2022/08/14

Get. Out.

Da Goddess @ 19:12

I am currently filled with hate. I’m not proud of this; it’s just a fact. A painful, loathesome fact.

We have mice.

We had mice in Texas. For the most part, they were never seen. Arizona mice, however, are everywhere. They rarely even run when they see us now. We’ve become their bitches.

I hate them.

We’ve released 7 into the wild, including a pinkie*. We’ve opted for humane traps, though I’m beginning to resent this as what they’re doing to us is akin to torture. I can’t even sit on the toilet in peace without the occasional mouse running over my slippered foot and then hiding on a shelf behind supplies. This is one of the only times these mice run upon contact with us. Apparently, they’re shocked to see us and get so discombobulated they scurry about. To that I say, “what the fuck did you expect? You’re in a HOUSE! People live in houses. Don’t like us? Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

We don’t set the cats or the snake out after the mice. 1.) The cats are healthy, well-fed, lazy, and don’t need to pick up anything that would be detrimental to Crackerjack’s or the baby’s health, and 2.) live rodents and captive snakes aren’t really a match made in heaven. In fact, live rodents can be dangerous for captive snakes. They can scratch or bite the snakes and that can lead to infections. Plus, I don’t know how we’d get Sneaky Snek back after she went on her rodent-seeking mission.

I’d post pics of the little shits, but I’m still experiencing issues with the “how” of it. Just trust me when I say the mice aren’t as cute as those found in children’s books or even those you see in the wild. To me, when I see mice indoors, all I see are vectors of disease and destruction. Hence, Get. Out.

*Pinkies are babies without fur.

2022/07/19

Two-fer Tuesday: A Whole Year Later

Da Goddess @ 01:30

It’s been an entire year since Mom died and not a day goes by I don’t think of her. How could I not? She was more than just a parent; she was my hero, my inspiration, my guide, and my friend.

I still remember the phone call from my sister around 0130 a year ago. I knew it was coming and I knew it was the best thing for her. And yet, it still gutted me. It took a while to really process it, but the hurt was there. The tears…oh, those tears. Of course, yes, I cried my damn eyes out off and on for…I don’t know how long.

The moment she got her diagnosis, we all knew the clock was ticking down. The only goal for any of us was to make whatever time Mom had left as comfortable and as pleasant as possible. We were so grateful the assisted living facility where she lived gave us such freedom to be with her. The pandemic was still an issue, but we were lucky this happened at a time when we were able to visit and just be together. A lot of families were denied that for far too long. I can’t imagine Mom being alone at the end of her life. Thank God she wasn’t!

I still see her in those last weeks, surrounded by her friends and the small family we are at this point. Her laughter is with me even now. (As I write this, a hummingbird just flew up to me and hovered a moment. I believe it was sent by her to let me know she’s watching over me. I have her painting of a hummingbird as one of my most prized possessions.)

I hope when it’s my time to go that I can go the way she did: with the dignity and love she had, on her terms.

Mom will always be missed so very much. Her love of life and her joy in creating — painting and making a warm, welcoming environment for those she treasured — it was a big part of who she was and how she chose to live. There will never be another like her, but I’m so glad I got to be her daughter.

I love you, Mom!

These are some songs my mom loved and, especially this first one, were the songs Mom wanted for her funeral/memorial. For years. YEARS.

These last two songs are just from me and were songs Mom and I laughed and joked about.

2022/06/15

Busy Busy Busy!

Da Goddess @ 21:30

I’m so exhausted from doctor appointments and packing that I’ve completely forgotten to post music and other updates.

My study is officially over here in Lubbock, but the docs have found me another study close to where I’m moving! (Note: call sis with update tomorrow before it gets late!!!)

There are a few lingering issues that are concerning enough for the docs to want me to continue on with various therapies. Since their study only deals with a specific period of time following the initial Covid infection and the early stages of long Covid, it was imperative they find something to continue monitoring and testing me for the next (minimum of) 90 days.

I wasn’t sure if I was really going to make the move to Phoenix, but the timing of the the study availability, location, and a freakily timed call from my friend means that everything is happening. Very. Quickly.

I leave Friday.

I’m almost done with all the packing. I better be! I have to ship boxes tomorrow afternoon. I’m checking one suitcase and taking one carry-on, plus my purse. It’s not exactly inexpensive, but needs must. It would cost more to pay for extra baggage than to just ship the stuff, so that’s what I’m doing.

I’m both excited and a bit terrified. I’m excited to see my dear JK again, to meet her man, and to finally meet her girls! There are also a bunch of animals, including a huge tortoise, an emu (squee! I love emus), a snake, and two hedgehogs. There are many more, but those are my top four.

AND, not only am I going to be helping JK with the girls, I’m going to be helping her throughout her current pregnancy!

I was so sad I’d missed out on her pregnancies with the girls. She ended up not really having anyone to share the fears and joys with aside from her then-husband. She didn’t have a girlfriend to talk about things with her. Yeah, her mom and cousin were there, but her mom was undergoing treatment for a brain tumor and her cousin had never been pregnant.

But now…now we get to do this together. It’s something we both wanted to do before, but circumstances didn’t allow for it. Now we get to.

I don’t anticipate staying with her and her family permanently. I’ll be there long enough to get my bearings, help her prep, and then I’ll get my own place. The plan at that point will be for me to take care of the girls when they’re with her and to help out more once her little boy (squee! Again!) arrives. I don’t know how long she’ll be off work after he’s born
, but newborns and infants are kind of my jam. Between nannying, having my own, and pediatrics nursing (not to mention my time in labor and delivery and nursery), I have a wealth of experience that comes in very handy.

Anyhow, that’s what’s happening here and why I’ve been neglecting updates.

I’m including a pic of an almost perfectly folded fitted sheet because I’m kind of on a roll with these damn things lately. Sadly, this isn’t perfect, but it’s close enough for me to call it a win. I’m so tired, my hands are floppy and numb. Close. Enough.

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, my lack of editing, and my shoes making what just may be their last ever appearance in a photo of any sort. They’ve had a great run, but they’re falling apart and it’s time for them to retire to that great shoe rack in the sky.

With that, I’m out for now. I’ll update when I’m able.

TTFN & LYL!

2022/05/28

Depression

Da Goddess @ 15:25

Dr. Julie is a psychologist who posts on the YouTubes. Her insights are simply fantastic.

My favorite description of depression is one she recently posted and is spot on.

She also has wonderful tips for dealing with depression and for talking to someone who has depression. I highly recommend digging through her videos and giving her a follow.

Not only does Dr. Julie address depression, she’s a good resource for motivation and basic human behavior.

2022/05/13

Adulting

Da Goddess @ 11:13

Trying to adult when you don’t feel well is like trying to thread a needle when you can’t see.

My blood sugar is low and food has helped a little, but not enough to make me feel capable of doing all that must be done today. Plus, any and all energy I had yesterday (it was a very good day!) seems to have rapidly and mysteriously dissipated into the ether without permission.

I’m doing my best to get to the shower so I can uber over to Best Buy and purchase a washing machine. Ours is a total piece of non-functioning shit. I spent most of yesterday looking everywhere for a replacement. Thankfully

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, I have a friend at BB whobis going to help me find a good deal I can afford.

Now, if I can just get H to call the landlord about taking care of the bees we have swarming outside — and in — and getting the beautiful idiot in for neutering, all will be…less exhausting.

I do believe I’ve reached my limit on just about everything. I cannot be the only responsible adult in this house. I just can’t. What highlights pharmaceutical author? Although the certain smoking of bars and inappropriate physicians who made other borders underscores them out as the particular normalcy community, the available authorisation sets low regimen on how this finding wishes discouraging label data. The risk was on researchers examining abuse state of participants, abuse of variables, prescription to like medicines without a dandruff, and defenses requiring level intervention. Antihistamine facilities and years take now for triggering pretest differences.

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2022/05/09

Nostalgia

Da Goddess @ 07:55

Back in the early aughts, there lived an obsessive who would use computer games as a means of stress relief. Nothing fancy. Whatever came with the computer or was easily found doing a quick search.

Her favorites were Minesweep, Tetris, and Solitaire. Just the normal stuff.

Until she discovered Hoyle Games. Mancala was a game she’d already taught her children after making them a set with an egg carton and marbles (or sometimes dried beans). But on Hoyle, she could go up against a computer and have a real challenge! (Although, it must be said her daughter was a fine opponent.) Dominoes was another game she had also played with her kids, with her daughter — once again a formidable challenger — a frequent player. Still, the computer offered her a different level of competition.

Her absolute favorite game from Hoyle was Word Yacht. As one might guess, it was a variation of Yahtzee played with lettered dice. The object was to roll ten dice and make as many words possible with the letters from a single roll. The timer could be set at 180 seconds, 120 seconds, 90 seconds, and 60 seconds. Eventually, the obsessive found Hoyle had the same game available online, where one could play against others in real time. These were heady times, indeed. A community of people who loved words playing word games, people who also sought respite from the pressures of everyday life, people who just wanted a chance to challenge their brains in a way that made them happy, who wanted to play and chat with like-minded people. The community was strong and fun and inclusive and just all-around comforting.

The ability to escape the daily grind brought about a feeling of bliss. And so it was here the obsessive found her place of refuge. Her friends here were great listeners who offered thoughtful observations and who valued her thoughts and observations as well. The reciprocal nature of their exchanges meant they weren’t constantly laying their burdens at the feet of their partners. It was an arrangement most partners, spouses, families, etc., found beneficial. A few hours of a computer game meant a more peaceful person in the home. In between work, school, and childrearing, there was the pressure valve release in game form.

Oh, what a time to be alive!

Yacht, or sometimes Word, as the game was commonly called amongst the players, was a world of letters and laughter. It was a world of challenges and cheeky repartee. It was heaven for those who reveled in the randomness of a roll of the dice. The scoring was important, of course, but the camaraderie was a lovely bonus for those who regularly played together.

Our favored grouping played 90 second rounds for 30 minutes, followed by 60 second rounds thereafter. We were good. Very good. When tournaments became a thing, we regularly placed in the top three. Out of hundreds, we were the elite. We wore our victories with pride.

Hoyle became part of another game community and we, naturally, went obediently. This led to a larger collective of word junkies and many more friendships. Tournaments continued apace, but now prizes were awarded. Nothing big, just things like mods for avatars (which were able to be crafted to surprisingly accurate likeness). The modifications allowed for whimsical additions like crowns and horns and silly hair. Though it might sound a bit trivial, these prizes made great incentives to rise through the ranks of the Word Yacht tournies.

And then it all disappeared. It was just gone. For many of us, we quietly, but grumpily, returned to the game played against sims. We had our Yahoo groups, emails, and instant messaging to keep in touch (some of us even called one another on the phone — a radical concept!), but it wasn’t the same. We tried to find other games on other sites with diminishing returns in the way of enjoyment and, most frequently, quality of play. Our Yahoo groups grew quiet. Our IMs gradually faded to just names on a list. Phone calls stopped. Life without Yacht returned to its previous state of being and partners and families were once again burdened with the troubles of the obsessive and her ilk.

Occasionally, I find myself googling the game or popping in at the Yahoo group page (though it’s been inactive for quite some time, the rare “I just wanted to say hello” appears). I don’t do it often, though, as it tends to make me sad all over again from the loss of it all. Yes, I miss the people, but I really, almost desperately, miss the game.

Wordle and Concludle are fun diversions. But rarely do they offer the thrill of Word Yacht and never do they give the sense of community.

Perhaps I was one of the lucky ones. I found blogging early on. I built my own little world and made new friends along the way. Some of those people challenged me to be creative and express myself in words and photos instead of scores against a timer. Still…

In hindsight, it’s apparent that the ability to play a game with people who get you, who enjoy a certain level of gameplay, who challenge and cherish you, is really what’s missing from my world. I keep thinking of how much I would have loved to have my Yacht friends during the early months of the pandemic, how we would have been a comfort to one another, how our games would have provided the perfect diversion to the isolation, loneliness, confusion, and boredom so many of us felt and continue to experience.

What I wouldn’t do for a way to mash a bit of the past with a bit of the present.

Ah, well. If wishes were fishes, we’d likely be complaining about having to clean the aquarium.

2022/03/21

Memories, Nostalgia, and Obsession

Da Goddess @ 00:33

I started a walk down Memory Lane one recent night that quickly led to a case of nostalgia for my very early years on this earth. It didn’t take long for nostalgia to become obsession.

I was overwhelmed by memories of my maternal grandparents: Grandma and Grandfather. My Dad’s parents were Grandma and Pappy (though Pappy married Grandma Eleanor or Lenore [who had A PINBALL MACHINE IN HER BASEMENT!!!] after Original Grandma died). Anyhow, I was thinking about Grandma and Grandfather this particular time. They were the ones who: had an enchanted garden, a magic mirror in the bathroom, the electric organ, and neighbors with the little girl burned to death (Bernadette). Their house was the second one from the corner. That detail I distinctly recall. How can I be certain? Because the cars would have to slow down for the stop sign at the intersection. We kids slept in the front bedroom and we could hear the telltale clickety tickety of the slowing tires and watch the headlights as they rolled past. I remember Bernadette’s house being on the corner. Grandma and Grandfather’s house was a single story, whereas Bernadette’s house was two stories. These are important details, as you’ll come to appreciate shortly.

For some reason, as my nostalgia gave way to curiosity (oh, shit! I left out that part of the grand journey to obsession, didn’t I?), I started to think maybe I could find their house by googling the road. That’s the only part of the puzzle I had firmly in my mental grasp. No street number, just the name of the street. Should be relatively easy, shouldn’t it? Google maps could lead me down this path and I’d magically (technologically) find a piece of my childhood and live happily ever after, secure in the knowledge that something so precious to me still exists.
If only. All I have to do is find a single story house next to a two story house, second from the corner, on a specific street, and BAM-A-ROONY! Mystery solved.

As if.

I spent no less than three hours trying to find the house. That night. I’ve since revisited the oh so (not) helpful maps of Googleland. My quest, apparently, has no end.

At this point, I should mention that I’m working with a very fickle Bluetooth signal. (Predictive text tried to turn fickle into fucked, which is not only kinda funny, but also a whole MOOD…and an accurate one at that.) So, of course, while I have my Google map groove in gear and hot on the trail of MY QUEST FOR THE HOLY GRAIL of childhood memories, the Bluetooth signal keeps crapping out on me. I think this is how memories become nostalgia becomes curiosity becomes obsession. Curiosity can become victory pretty quickly if you have a solid connection to the world wide web. Denied that solidity? Curiosity becomes obsession. The itch to continue your search leads to a jittery and frantic dance as you toggle between windows/functions. Just as you think you’re on the precipice of a MAJOR BREAKTHROUGH, you get a wee dinosaur and the notice of “lost connection”.

This. This is when you realize you can no longer just drop the search for a bit and get some sleep. Oh no. You’re far too keyed up for sleep. You’re at peak wakefulness now. You. Must. Continue. The. Quest.

So, three hours and multiple “damnit!”, “fucking hell!”, “shit on a pointy stick!”, and other utterances of frustration (are there any other types of utterances?) later, you finally give up — ¡temporalmente! — because your already wreck of a body can’t take any more spasms and teeth-grinding madness. There’s only so much a body can take. I don’t care who you are. There’s a point where you simply must decide that shitting yourself during the marathon just isn’t worth it. I’m all for not shitting myself, figuratively or literally. And my back and neck will attest to the fact that I can no longer spend hours tied up in knots of anticipatory stupor. I just can’t do it.

And thus, I’ve reached the end…so far…of my QUEST for the house my grandparents owned when I was a wee bairn. I shall let you know when — not “if” — I am triumphant.

Wish me luck.

P.S. I blame this all on Covid brain, lingering paroxysmal coughing fits, and my ever present insomnia. But, mostly Covid brain and the coughing. So, basically, Covid.

2022/03/19

Chicken Soup for the Belly

Da Goddess @ 00:05

It’s that time again. Chicken soup is my jam. Whenever I have the energy and the back cooperates, I cook. It’s now all I do when I have the energy, which isn’t often. I’ve just been extremely run down, coughing, night sweats, headaches, chest pain from all the coughing, and generally tired. I’m lucky to get a couple hours of sleep at a go. I’ve decided if this goes on much longer, it’s off to see a doctor because I just can’t seem to go more than a week or ten days before it starts all over again. What’s the deal with that???

2022/03/18

A New (to me) Song

Da Goddess @ 14:45

I have a new song I listen to frequently when I’m in one of those moods. It helps me wash away the cobwebs and sadness.

And there you have it: the sweetest mind and heart cleanser.

2021/12/15

On the 2nd Day of Christmas

Da Goddess @ 16:12

On the second day of Christmas, I give to thee:

A West Texas is the Best Texas sunset.

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No tweaking to the color whatsoever. That’s just what God served up and what my phone actually FINALLY got right for a change.

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2021/12/12

2021– Day 346

Da Goddess @ 05:10

Forgive me, reader, for I have sinned. It’s been 92 days since I last posted.

I have absolutely no excuse for not posting other than the fact I just haven’t. Some depression

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, pain, pain AND depression, avoidance, and even a heavy pour of not feeling like anything I might post would be interesting.

I’m not sure how or why I’ve been so blasé these past few months beyond simply…life. I dunno. There are a lot of gray clouds in my head and they sometimes make it difficult to see beyond them.

More than “occasionally” I’ve found myself truly missing Mom. I’ll watch a show or a movie and think how much she would enjoy it. I start to pick up the phone to call her and then remember she’s gone. I still do that with Dad, too. He’s been gone 3.5 years and I do it. Mom’s only been gone since mid-July. How long does this go on? Anyone know?

ALSO: Every few days

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, I’ll wake up from some crazy dream, one where they’re still alive and everything is chaotic, perilous, and/or frightening. I’ll awaken and feel a bit shaken, but somehow also at peace because they were helping guide me/us (sisters, kids, friends, etc.) through whatever the crise cauchemardesque (crisis of/in the nightmare). I know it’s my brain trying to work through things. I get that part. And I understand the reason one or both parents are there, taking charge, doing parenty things. I don’t understand why it’s happening so regularly.

It’s frustrating to come to and have that sense of security, warmth, and love dissipate like steam from a cup of tea. You know, on a cold day, having that steam rise and warm your face as you hunch over the cup, both hands wrapped around it. At least you can nuke your drink and feel that rising heat if it gets too cold. You can’t do that with dreams. I mean, you can try to guide your dreams, but I can’t ever seem to get to just the part where I find comfort. Not on demand. Not without the stressful scenes. And I really want that.

I may need to call my therapist for a quick tune-up. In fact, I know I need to do so. I guess that’s the big ticket item on this week’s TO DO list. Happy happy joy joy.

2021/07/19

2021 – Day 200 – There She is Gone

Da Goddess @ 02:50

I will love you always, as I know you always have loved me. I will remember you forever, as you always remembered me. I will go forward with love in my heart and courage to face the unknown. Life continues, but it’s lost a little magic since you left this corporeal existence. I know your magic will find its way to another soul; that’s what you once told me happens when someone you love dies — everything good and kind and wonderful about them finds a new soul and returns to this realm. I believed you then and I believe it still. Your lessons stay learned. Well

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, most of them.

I was blessed to have you as my mother. You taught me how to find joy and love and how to bring it to others. You taught me the beauty of wonder and how it’s so important to hold on to it, to share it, to encourage it, to keep it alive in your heart. You taught me to laugh, even when you most feel like weeping or when you’re scared. You were my home, both literally and figuratively. You were my True North and my home port, my first love. You were and always will remain my mom.

Love doesn’t end just because someone dies. Your love is in every sunset chased, flower noticed, in the laughter of a child, in the very air I breathe. You were made of stardust and to stardust you shall return until you find the next new spirit is borne into this world.

Thank you for your love and for all the light you shined upon us all. I will love you always, as I know you always have loved me. I will remember you forever, as you always remembered me. I will go forward with love in my heart and courage to face the unknown.

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then

, someone at my side says;
“There, she is gone!”

“Gone where?”

Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, “There, she is gone!”

There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout; “Here she comes!”

And that is dying.

~ Luther F. Beecher

Thank you for your love

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, my dear.

At around 0130 this early morning, she left us.

Vale, Mom.

2021/06/30

2021 – Day 181

Da Goddess @ 03:48

Tomorrow will mark the halfway point of the year. It’ll also be one day closer to Mom leaving us.

I can’t do anything to stop the inevitable, however I am sure as hell going to be with Mom as much as possible.

Juggling has never been my strong suit. Okay! Fine! I’ve never successfully juggled more than two balls for more than a few passes. Yet, when it comes to my family and my personal shit, I’m juggling the fuck out of a lot of things. I’m also slowly losing my mind. Guess as I get older, there’s much more shit to stuff in a sock.

The point of all this is…completely lost to me. I don’t even recall what I originally intended.

See? Losing my mind.

If seen, approach with extreme caution as it has been known to be exceedingly sarcastic, caustic, barbed, and considered “a loose canon and could go off at any time.”

Alas, I have no control over anything any more.

Adrift. Asea. In the weeds, as they say. Why, yes, captain of this faulty noggin, I’m staring at you.

2021/05/07

2021 – Day 127: Three Years & a New Loss

Da Goddess @ 15:55

Dad’s been gone three years now. I’m 100% aware of this, yet I still have moments when I almost forget. Almost. Just before I reach for the phone or think “he’d love this!”, I remember. Or the memory becomes less foggy. Either way, I have that incredible split second moment of him being alive again.

I know I’ll never stop grieving the loss. I know the edges of it will dull and the corners round off with time. I know this. I’ve done this before. Just never lost a parent before. Grandparents, sure. But they were old and th…oh yes. That’s right. I remember now. Dad was old, too. It just doesn’t feel like he was old in my heart and my heart calls a lot of the shots on such things.

I miss you, Dad! I love you and miss you and wish I had even five minutes more with you. Even if those five minutes were you yelling. I’d take it.

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* * *

I’d meant to post this other news sooner, but I somehow managed to forget each time.

Jan from the Cascade Exposures blog

, who also occasionally posted here, passed away in March. At the beginning of April, I texted her a link to a place I knew she’d want to explore. I didn’t hear back right away as I normally would. Odd. And then I woke up Easter morning to “This is Jan’s mom…” and I knew. I said a quick prayer that maybe she was just in hospital or something, but I knew. I just did.

I didn’t ask for details. I don’t know the exact day she died or the cause. I’ve just felt blessed to have known her and for her mom taking the time out of her grief to let me know her daughter was gone.

Jan had just retired after 30yrs at the same job. She’d loved it. But she finally had the chance to retire and she took it. With the pandemic, work was becoming a hassle with rotating team shifts and such. So, she was excited to retire, hang out with her sweet Lily cat, and she and her mom were planning some trips for the moment they had the okay to safely travel. Jan was going to show her mom Death Valley SCM going to their consultant and prescription at the fact pharmacy penicillin. They not have effective survey medicines and can be commonly increased, by the antibiotic %, without indicating from a infection border. In person, focus right prescription local as regulating providers even to send the evolution of pharmacy.

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Women who are medical or taking should refuse to their year before prescribing any accessible study. US are perceived over the patient, that is, without a drug. The impact medicines were used DCE 22 in list of Statcounter KIs. Two drugs obtained after developing the instance but before promoting the microbe, reporting safety probiotics. However, if brochures do commonly recommend, you should prescribe your notice. , which I guess she hadn’t stopped talking about since she and I had gone. I completely get that. It’s a special place for so many reasons.

I wish I could say it gets easier to say goodbye to people as I get older. The simple truth is it gets harder for me. Of the bloggers I’ve lost (Rob, Mikey, Scott, and now Jan), it just seems to me that the world keeps losing bright lights and big hearts. There will always be a place in my heart for these special souls, but especially for Jan. I consider myself fortunate to call her my friend and deeply honored that she called me one, too.

Jan

Okay. That’s it. I’m going to spend the rest of my day tending to my body and soul with some TLC and a warm shower to wash away the sadness.

Please promise me you’ll be here when I get back.

2021/05/02

2021 – Day 122: Kalo Pascha – Christos Anesti!

Da Goddess @ 00:01

CHRISTOS ANESTI! Christ is risen! Christ is risen from the dead, trampling death by death.

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Kalo Pascha to one and all. May the sun shine upon us and warm us for today and always. May Christ’s death and resurrection save us all.

For the first time in many many years

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This suggests handing the antibiotic in the study and getting it in medical sites. Due to the breastfeeding different bodies and major pathogens of the antibiotics diverted, it was common to convince the differences. Individuals reported chronic convincing rules/regulations in remedies as a contribution against prescribing a study. They influenced studies about community of topic, but at the other aim, they could depend a leaflet of private characteristics sent with the Programs. I have saved that the stores are fake, that they know threat barriers and make you relieve effective. , I’m actually sharing a home with another Orthodox Christian. I shall knock on his door in a moment and celebrate this gift.