...can one witness, within a thirty minute span, a live televised "strategy" for an invasion that began two years ago AND a live hand shakin' baby kissing walk through the building by a Senator wanna be and his entourage. You just never know what kind of comedy a day's gonna bring.

^j^

As you may (or may not) have noticed, my usual commenting self has been pretty quiet for the past week. That's because I had something to do BESIDES blog. *gasp*
Yes, I know you're shocked! My good friend came to visit from Houston and stayed for a week which we spent alternately laughing, snorting, cackling and visiting other old friends. A librarian by vocation, she is anything but shy and quiet. In fact, she makes me look like a wallflower in the socializing department. Coming from the city, she was absolutely in love with the peace and quiet around here. Also an animal person, she had a different pet to sleep with every night and snuggle on the couch with during the day. You know me and the menagerie ;)

One might think that I would take for granted the lovely place where I have spent so much time, but not so. Each and every day I wake up and marvel at the view, the quiet and the opportunities to enjoy nature. And I say "thanks" to the One who blessed me with it. I posted a little more truth tinged "fiction" over at my alter ego's site. She only comes out when the Spirit moves her, and sometimes it's intense.

As for the Christmas season, you MUST go visit Santa's blog . I went to visit a couple of times and I've already got a FREE massage lined up for Monday 'cuz I'm such a good nice sweet cute different kind of girl. I think Mrs. Claus must tell him to be extra kind to smartass gals who work hard and keep their sense of humor in spite of it all. Ya think?

Keep the faith. And believe ^j^

If you went to the SuperMegaStore anytime this weekend, all I can say is "bless your heart." I do believe if they were giving away those specials I'd have stayed home in my jammies. Instead, I was at work. Gotta make some money to buy your socks and underwear, you know.

Since it's almost Advent, several bloggers have taken on a Christmas theme. Michael at Ripple Me This is always up for game playing. His secret santa thing sounds like a lot of fun. I noticed all the participants so far have their own buttons. How cool is that! Muzikdude has officially claimed his blog as the "fruit cake of the blogosphere." I sure do enjoy visiting there and reading about the Bunnybashers and Duckslayers..and especially when his Mom gives him advice. Heck I even enjoy his spam. Maybe I should send him my picture to accompany the seasonal theme. Captain Picard has you-know-who in a red suit on the Holodeck 2 doing the Santa thing with all the kiddos.

Speaking of Santa...I'm about to start working on my list so I can mail it to the North Pole in time. I'm thinking I would adore a few of these things:

A massage with heavy emphasis on shoulders and neck. I wonder which elf would be the best at that?? Hmm.

Some new music. Sheesh. I hear Santana's got a new one and Garth's out of retirement. Thankyouverymuch Trisha ;)

Socks and underwear. See above.

A date for New Year's Eve OR a new 9V battery for the bullet.

My own camera so I don't have to keep stealing borrowing my poor Mom's.

An orbital sander. ( don't ask )

New collars for the dawgs.

Peace on earth.

In the words of my favorite artist Mary Engelbreit

One more day to go until I have two off. It ain't a weekend, but hey...it's all mine. I haven't been around to visit y'all lately. I know you forgive me. Here's some before and after the fire pictures.


Umm..yeah. I won't be lighting any damn thing for awhile. Smokey the Bear gave me a few demerits and threatened to tell Santa on me.

FTS (who had a mighty vivid mental pic of me whackin' at the flames)was going down memory lane on his blogging history today, remembering what got him started in this virtual community of ours. I started this blog in September of 2004 and spent a lot of months learning what was and wasn't my style in the reading and writing department. I ranted for a few weeks until I figured out nobody wanted to hear it, then I started reading what others had to say. One of the first of those was the lovely and talented new mother, Zoot whom I ran across at the Rocky Top Brigade just as I did Sugarfused . The brainchild of the RTB has quietly continued to blog in spite of being targeted for his political views.

From there I found lots of other friends outside of the great state of Tennessee, and for that I am thankful. It's a small world after all.

Okay then. I went out to burn off the asparagus bed today, which seemed like an innocent easy fire. Except for all those dead dried up leaves everywhere including along the edge of the pasture. Which caught fire quicker than you can say "cheese sauce" over fresh asparagus. They were everywhere, combined with lotso pine needles and burning like crazy.

By the time I managed to rake little breaks in the dry stuff about a quarter of the pasture was burned off. I remember the old folks burning off their yards back in the day so that they'd grow all green and pretty the next year. Let's just say I expect that pasture to be brand spanking new for those lazy ass horses in the spring. I'm just sayin'.

*cough cough*

'Tis true...the bane and blessing of certain occupations is that there is no such thing as "closed for the holiday". Should you happen to have a fever or a myocardial infarction on turkey day, the Poopster will be right there to run your blood tests. So will the soldiers who are defending our country and the police and fire fighters who protect you and yours. If you are traveling, the transportation folks will be filling up your tank or punching your ticket. Save us all a piece of pie and give us an "amen y'all."

A friend and I went to the movie today to see this and I was floored. You should see it too. I promise you won't be sorry. I don't spend much money on luxuries things for myself, but by Friday I will have a copy of the soundtrack in my hot little hand.

I refuse to write my letter to Santa until I have properly given thanks for what I've been blessed with. After that, watch out elves.


*gobble gobble*

I have to be at work really early, like when most of you are still nestled in your beds slappin' at the snooze. The upside to that is my carpoolers on the John Boy and Billy Show who keep me snorting all the way there via radio. Based in North Carolina, this crew is insane and irreverant and I love every one of 'em and their multiple personalities. On any given day they might feature Rev and Goob or Murray the agent. "Axe Ike" is one of my favorite bits, along with the John Boy and Billy playhouse. Tater's giggle in the background is enough to make smile all by itself. The resident curmudgeon, Robert D. seems a bit of an ass, but they love him and Jackie. So do I.

As a fan of humor I'm always on the quest for a good laugh. The Comedy Channel is one of my regular hangouts along with Saturday Night Live and Letterman. The Simpsons and South Park. Nothing gives me the hives quicker than somebody who rants most of the time and whines whenever there's a break in conversation. Spare me the angst, y'all. I've got my own and I don't need yours too.

My serious side prevails on occasion, sometimes too often. I reckon that comes with the territory of being a girl. But hey...I'm past menopause and raring to snicker in the face of adversity. So let's ROFLMFAO. At least we ain't him.

I've been out on my hands and knees crawling through ditches and weeds to find pecans. There are more than I will ever be able to pick up, but I keep going anyway. As I was scouring the ground, I began to think. Because, after all, it is kind of a mindless activity where your mind can wander to other places while you work. My mind has been in Salem,Oregon all day since I read about Hoss losing his wife. Commenters have lined up all day long to share their condolences with a man who is a daily part of their lives. There are very few b**gs that I read every single day without fail, and his is one of them. Through all of the hard times of his wife's illness, he has never once done anything but keep putting the humor out there to keep us laughing and smiling to forget about our own troubles.

Which got me to wondering...about how we would know if something happened to each other. So many bloggers keep their places a secret due to work or family privacy issues. If something happened to you, is there someone who would know how to let the rest of us out here know? It's something to consider...a real life blogger buddy who would step in and post something for your online friends letting them know what was up if you're not able to. When I first started posting I jumped around like a cat on a hot tin roof looking all over the place for good reads to fill up a blogroll. After 14 months of non-stop reading and writing, I consider myself blessed with true friends all over the world. We are not just names on a list....we are a phenomenon that was born of the desire to stretch our boundaries and imaginations and touch the lives of others that we might have never known. The world gets smaller every day.

Some of you have asked about linking to the new place. I'm emotionally attached enough to this site that I will continue to post here daily with the fun lighthearted stuff. Over there will be a different me, one that I sometimes hesitate to show here for fear of sounding morose. Sounds like multiple personalities, huh;) Not really. Just different parts of Poopie waiting for the future to unfold.

Keep the faith. ^j^

According to Monty, the daily bitch this is drunken blogging night...unless she's found Prince Charming and run away to Neverland. While I was waiting for everybody else to show up for happy hour I've been painting . Yea, I know. I'll be sure to keep the day job.

I've always thought it would be mighty cool to be a bartender. I mean, with my propensity to listen to people go *on and on and on* I'd be a shoe in for the job. Just think about the possibilities for psychotherapy in that profession! I can make change pretty well ( when on duty and not a customer ) and the cleavage might get me some good tips. HOWEVER....I'd have to draw the line on that Coyote Ugly dancing on the bar thing because I don't do spandex. Plus my joints are too stove up from arthritis to jump up there and look sexy during the jump. We all know the jump is everything.


Psst..c'mere. I have a new place I want you to visit sometime when the mood strikes. Usually I'm either ranting or actin' the fool around here, and there's a time and place for that. Like every day. Sometimes though, I want to be all serious like and spill my guts. Thanks to Clarence I have a place to do that now where I can play and explore. Sheesh..I might be a real writer there . Time will tell.

How's your momma'n'them? Don't you run around with my cousin-in-law's brother's wife? Thought so...buy you a beer?

*UPDATE* Legs shaved, hair and body clean. Boxers and t-shirt with a Michelob Ultra in hand, can. House is a wreck, dogs are asleep ( for now ).

I have never been one to dream big dreams. My goals have been mostly idealistic in nature, the kind where one sows a seed and, more often than not, never sees the fruit. Had I set my sights on making a million early in life I could have already been-there-done-that-gotta-coffee-mug. I'm just that stubborn. Perhaps part of my hesitance in setting goals stems from my dedication to diversity and inclusion. Fears of pigeon-holing myself as a drama diva or intellectual afraid of having fun have led me on a merry chase throughout my life to fully experience the moment, whether humorous or sad or just there. After all, most of life consists of the "just there" times. Becoming middle aged (when the heck did THAT happen) gives one the freedom from external expectations and mandatory role playing to become the one that Big Ernie intended you to be. That, my friends, is my goal.

I can see from where I sit that he has directed me and provided protection and comic relief during all the years leading up to my epiphany. The ability to see pain and suffering as necessary acts of the play is a gift not to be taken lightly. When you're in it...really in it....the drama seems all consuming and earth shattering. Later on clarity comes at the most unexpected moment and smacks you upside the head with a peace that surpasses all others. With apologies to Dr. Freud: It ain't all about your ego or anybody else's. It's about enjoying the journey and meeting others half-way.

There is an extremely fine line between diversity and inclusion versus entitlement. The same can be said about responsible parenting and dumping your control issues into your child's life or the lives of all the others who interact with you every day, be it in person or cyber-wise. At this point in time, it all makes me very weary and so I'm outta here to set some goals and pray for peace. And grace. And honesty. And discernment. And a place where there is less black and white and more gray.

I'll send you my forwarding address when I get there.

^j^

Here's a test of your weather IQ. What happens when a warm juicy southern air mass hits a fast moving cold front right around the Mississippi River? *hint* They don't kiss in delight at seeing each other. So, um..it wasn't a slow weather day across the central part of the nation as the unseasonably warm weather came to a screeching lightning hailing halt. Our local tornado sirens are in good working order and got plenty of use during the early afternoon as I made a dash from work to home in between storm #1 and storm #2. All's well that ends well though. As I type, I can still see the remnants of the most glorious sunset I have ever witnessed over the familiar treeline that surrounds the river.

Our top story today.....I am no longer the solitary employed resident of the Poopie compound. Let's hear it for BabyGirl and her return to the workforce!

* yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy*

Can I get an amen?

...is never done. Or so it seems. Yesterday I chopped down the asparagus bed which is what good asparagus farmers do. Whenever it dries out enough, there will be one helluva fire with all that nitrogen burning.

And then, of course, there is the daily search for pecans beneath my favorite trees. I've worked my butt off gettin' em ready for the harvest, so here's a word to poachers: If I catch you under MY trees, I'll shoot.you.dead. There's an interesting little weather pattern in progress that will probably help me make my pile. Either that or it will wash them all down the ditch. In that case, I'll be calling on you to buy my lunch. Be warned.
The peep show is over for now, and most of the trees are either nekkid or getting that way. Here's a picture of back in the day before the gray days of November hit.

I swear, those cows don't know how good they've got it.

I bet y'all forgot that today is a holiday . I did too 'til I saw it somewhere on the net. According to Mr. Capp's legend, it's the day when girls are expected to get bold and go after the guy they want. Now, I don't know about the rest of you gals, but I've tried that before and it never seems to work out. Men drone on about how they have to do all the work and the courtin', but isn't that what it's all about for them? I mean..you know. The conqueror and all that stuff. I've played it both ways in my lifetime and truth be told I much prefer to be the sought afteree. Sorry online dating services. I will NOT pay for the privilege of chatting with man.

There have been blog crushes that I just knew were the love of my life, but alas. There's always a catch. Like location. Or age. Or marital status. Or inability to laugh and have fun. Sooner or later, the true blog personality comes out and BOOM..the love affair is over. Or maybe not ;)

This Sadie Hawkins Day, I do hereby drag by the hair of the head these men that make my life a bit more fun and meaningful each and every day: ( in no particular order ;)

Hoss : I know there's a long line of adoring fans from here to Salem,Oregon but this guy takes the time to visit me every single day and loves me no matter what I rant about. Plus there's that wicked sense of humor.

Riverman : I seriously lurve reading about the travels of this guy and his passion for nature and the Mississipi River. He uses his knowledge to pay it forward with kids and paints a mean picture.

FTS : He's a writer with purpose and a dream that nothing will stop, not even Samantha and all the other estrogen based life forms. *gotcha*

Alan : This newspaperman, retired from the USAF, has a rabid love of nature and the truth. He and his wife Monica live in Pennsylvania where they have fought a lot of battles with her health and keep on keepin' on.

Lightning Bugs's Butt : He's insane and a genius with his humor. I like that in a man.

Michael : Formerly the "Bloggin' Idiot", he now believes in himself and casts ripples all about the blogosphere like the angel that he is.

the blogger formerly known as SKB , Fletch and Count Zubrovka . What can I say...I'm a sucker for pretty pictures.

Paul : He adores his "first wife" and writes like there's no tomorrow about all that is good and true. I've heard his spaghetti is real good, especially on cold days.

Joe Cool and Steel Cowboy : Both of these guys are tightly hitched to girlfriends that they adore and make no bones about it. I also love THAT in a man.


Here's a big old *smoooooooooch* to all my mens. Thanks for being there. Love ya...mean it. ^j^

Today was mulch day for the leaves *achOOOO*...dust to dust and all that. If my second hand John Deere rider dies tomorrow, I've gotten my money's worth out of it over the past few years. Surely sugar daddy will spring for a new one when the time comes.

It's been damn near impossible to take a bad picture lately..I mean GAH. I feel like Fletch or something with all the photo ops of the season. An angel named Clarence visited me today and gave the gift of an opportunity to try out something different that's all me. I'll keep you posted on the progress. It may take me a while to get there, but I'll be setting up shop in a new location.
Ivy was scared of my doggie in yesterday's pic, so I thought I'd give her the "before" shot in explanation of why Faith was snarling. Big sisters can only take so much before they snap.

Y'all keep the faith. ^j^

...or are there other folks out there who have dogs who roll in the leaves and mud and hop up on the bed and lay all over it and then you have to climb under the next layer of covers to get out of the leaves and your kids eat all your food and don't work and you love them anyway and you believe in miracles and love and hope and faith and truth and honesty and you work your ass off and never get anywhere but you enjoy the journey and say what you think and feel and it all comes out real honest and sincere like and ugly and beautiful and then you keep moving because that's what believers do even when it all seems hopeless.

Props to Jennifer for the inspiration to run on..

When I was a kid and a Girl Scout, we lined up on East Court Street in our uniforms to march in the Veteran's Day parade. I didn't have a clue what it was all about then, except for an escape from school for a day. Some leader or another would line us all up and march us down the street towards court square where "important people" talked about life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

My daddy was a supply man in the USAF, stationed in Shreveport Louisiana and the Azore Islands during the early fifties. I remember poring over his keepsake book when I was a child, trying to decipher the language of Portugal. He was a farmer by then, a graduate of the University of Tennessee with a degree in agricultural science and busy delivering calves in his "spare" time.

Every time we gather as a family for a holiday, he prays for those in the service who are far away from their families on the special day. We all hold hands now, knowing that sacrifice for one's country is always noble but not always necessary. Once, as a Sunday school teacher in my Vietnam era class, he asked the question "Why?" Why did you all raise such hell about that war? Was it not essential to our freedom as Americans?

I don't have an answer to that question. I know that the casualties were astronomical in more ways than one, and that nothing much was accomplished by our occupation there. It wasn't Normandy or Iwo Jimo or anything close. But there were heroes as there always are. Their names are carved on a wall that serves as a reminder to Americans that war is hell.

I salute you, Daddy. ^j^

There is something in the change of the seasons that comforts my soul. Perhaps it is the fact that just when one is weary to the bone of heat or cold or damp or dust, another season replaces the one that has become an unwelcome guest. I suppose that growing up on a farm has given reinforcement to my tendency to see the cycle of growth and death, dormancy and rebirth as natural and normal. In Tennessee seasonal changes are usuually abrupt as they blend, one into the other, for days on end before finally becoming a force to be reckoned with. There's a joke that has traveled by e-mail for years about the weather in Tennessee..."if you don't like it, wait 'til tomorrow and it will be different." "If you turn on the heat AND the air conditioning both in one day's time, you're in Tennessee." I have memories of April snowfalls and floods along with freezing cold Memorial Days and a 4th of July that required a jacket around the bonfire. Just when you think you've got Mother Nature pigeonholed, there 'ya go.

I went for a sunset four-wheeler ride yesterday evening, following the leaf strewn path that parallels the river bed. When the engine was cut for the dogs to take a swim, I heard the cicada. Just one..not the chorus that I became accustomed to in July and August. Its' song was short, as if it knew that it was a special treat to be hanging around in November for one last aria. As I type, there is a non-event of a cold front easing through the southeast as it storms through the midwest and northeast. I reckon tornado alley will get a break this time around.

As for me, I'm just waitin' for that first good freeze so the pecans will fall. The guys at Pennington's were kind to me and gave me 40 cents a pound for the first fallen with the black spots from the bugs. The Stuarts are going for eighty cents...but I'll keep those. After all, Santa Claus is coming to town ;)

too tired to see straight, much less type *stop* life's a bitch and then you have to work with one *stop* or two or five *stop* send multiple orgasms beer sugar daddy friend with four-wheeler to enjoy the colors *stop* hug optional but much appreciated *stop*

Please notice the well groomed appearance underneath the paper shell pecan trees. Also note that this old middle aged gal hauled a push mower and rake in the trunk of the car to do the deed on the ankle high grass. Preparing for pecan season is a great weight loss program with all the mowing and bending and stooping and such.

Leave it to a guy to come up with an ingenious easy way to do things. My friend Timmy at work suggested today that I use a shop-vac to suck them up to save on my poor old back. His eyes were literally ON FIRE, like "Tim the tool man" as we brainstormed this idea. The hitch was power for the shop-vac, but then we conjured up a portable generator to power it and WOOT! Plan B involved lots of plastic sheeting placed under the trees at just the right time. When it ain't raining. And the wind won't blow it away, and there's somebody up there shakin' em to high heaven.
Actually, with eye candy like this and temps in the 70's, I don't even mind the perpetual motion. Check back with me when it's blowing from the north and 25 degrees. I imagine I'll be over it by then.

Y'all keep the faith. ^j^

(Not very) shamelessly swiped from The MasterMind who stole it from Ruth .

ENFP - The Champion You scored 72% I to E, 31% N to S, 28% F to T, and 73% J to P!

Your type is known as the Champion type, which is part of the larger group called idealists. Nothing occurs that does not have some deep and ethical significance in your eyes. You see life as an exciting drama. You are very charismatic, yet tend to be too harsh on yourself for not being as genuine as you think you should be. 3% of the population shares your type. As a romantic partner, you need to talk about what is going on in your life. You are a strong supporter for your partner's efforts to grow and change and be happy. You need to feel that same support from your partner. Expressive, optimistic, and curious, you are eager to enjoy new experiences with your partner, whom you wish to be your confidant and soul mate, as well as play mate. You are uncomfortable sharing negative emotion, though, and tend to withdraw from confrontation and process your feelings privately. You feel most loved when your partner appreciates your creativity, accepts your uniqueness, and sees you as the compassionate person you are. You need to hear your partner tell you how much you mean to them and would love if they did thoughtful spontaneous things to demonstrate it. Your group summary: idealists (NF) Your type summary: ENFP

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 76% on I to E You scored higher than 39% on N to S You scored higher than 24% on F to T You scored higher than 73% on J to P

Link: The LONG Scientific Personality Test written by unpretentious2 on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

I took it one step further and took the test about what kind of person I am most suited to be with. The supervisor??????????????????????

ESTJ-The Supervisor You scored 75 I versus E, 80 N versus S, 60 F versus T, and 60 J versus P!

Your ideal partner is known as the supervisor. As a romantic partner, this type communicates very clearly their strong opinions so their partners always know where they stand. They are dependable, responsible, and rock solid. They can be rather infexible about giving up any control and insist on keeping a schedule, although they have great energy and enthusiasm for planned adventures. They have difficulty seeing other's points of view and their biggest downfall in a relationship is dismissing their partner's feelings as illogical. They feel most appreciated for being trustworthy, efficient, and productive. They wish to be thanked tangibly for the ways they keep your lives on track. The group summary: Guardians (SJ) The Type Summary: ESTJ

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 51% on I versus E You scored higher than 91% on N versus S You scored higher than 56% on F versus T You scored higher than 40% on J versus P

Link: The Best Personality Type for You Test written by unpretentious2 on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

I think not ;) Stay tuned for Poopie's score on the "Are You Normal" test. *snort* That should be a thrill a minute.

Me and BabyGirl had a bonding sort of day..the kind where you just hang out and do whatever. First we slept late, then we went to the K&N drive-in for lunch. That was one of her first jobs, as a carhop where the speakers don't work too well and they don't take checks. The owner parks his truck out front with a giant fiberglass rootbeer mug in the back to advertise to passers-by on the busy highway. Truth is, nobody would ever stop there unless they knew first hand how good the burgers are. Faith went along for the ride because she travels well and we fed her the bread leftover from around the outside of the burgers. She doesn't like fries, even with ketchup.So anyways, we're chattin' about where we're gonna go next and Faith is snoozing in the back seat between the bags of pecans. BabyGirl drops a bombshell on me like I ain't never heard. When she and her boyfriend go to Sonic, Faith gets her very own cheeseburger. Not the leftovers, mind you. A whole burger...with cheese. If I know her choco lab self, I'd say she takes mayo only. Woof!We moseyed on down the road a bit to the Farmer's Co-op in Halls and bought some ear mite medicine for the cats and a Mossy Oak cap for Faith's daddy who feeds her cheeseburgers. And a pineapple scented candle just for us girls. Then we streaked each others' hair with one of those home style kits and went out separate ways. Sorry FTS . When I can't afford salon color, I do my own thing. Which is most of the time ;) If you wouldn't charge me mileage, I'd hire you for a housecall.

It might have been easier all the way around if I'd written a novel. Ya think?

Okay, I lied. Well, actually it wasn't a LIE it was just me holdin' up my hand for something that I knew my heart wasn't into right now. Yep...I'm a day one NaNoWrimo dropout. I'll win the prize for the lowest word count! 812 ( minus 30% as inflated by Hoss's buddy's WORD program ;) Did I mention that I have no discipline? And a 5 year old computer on dial-up? And a house that looks like Nate needs to come charging in and remodel? I thought I had. At least I know my limits. Getting older does that to a gal.

Instead, I shall bore you to tears with my daily ramblings here at the Poopie place. In between safaris for Prince Charming and trips to Lowe's for more grout and picking up pecans. Here's the Reader's Digest version of my day in the guise of Thursday Thirteen:

Thirteen Things about Poopie

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!



1. I'm wearing shorts. In November. Tell me global warming ain't real.

2. Today was my day off because I'll be at the hospital saving your life this weekend. If you want to tip me for not hurting when I put the needle in, feel free. I could use the $$ and I won't tell a soul.

3. Me and the dogs slept late today, and then took a nap, all in the same bed. The cats sleep on my feet. It's a zoo around here.

4. Miss Rhonda did me a nice haircut this afternoon, and turned me on to a new leave-in conditioner that smells tropical. Economy size, no less. I love that woman.

5. I'm re-reading "In Memory of Junior" by Clyde Edgerton, and I love it better every time I read it. The man is a master with his characters.

6. Daddy just brought me some more fescue sacks to put all those pecans in. I still don't have any firm orders. What y'all waiting on??

7. BabyGirl and her Memaw are about to embark on an adventure of the cookbook kind. Mom's cookbook is famous and has been out of print for years. No time like the present, I say. Y'all GO girls!

8. Dr. House is so obnoxious and so eccentric that I want to slap him and lay one on him all at the same time.

9. There ain't enough colors in a crayola box to scribble what it looks like here. Peak. Gorgeous. Still warm...unseasonably so.

10. I've had several job offers lately for equal or less money. Heh. It'll take a lot to get this old gal to leave paradise. But she CAN be had.

11. My mom will celebrate her 74th birthday on the twentieth of this month. I'm several inches taller than her now...go figure. I've never been taller than anybody except the circus midgets.

12. I smoke. Deal with it.

13. Phoenix had a thingy where we put our baby pictures out there for everybody to laugh at. I'm a sucker for stuff like that.

Actually, this is more like a dollar's worth, but I'll give you change if you ask for it. Mona had a recent post about the therapeutic value of writing letters to those who are no longer a part of our lives, as a tool to grieve the loss of the relationship. We usually think of loss in terms of death, but it can be just as much of a loss to lose a friendship or a home or a workplace or a friend. I'm the world's WORST/BEST about writing a letter when I can't face my feelings head on and navigate through them. Mona maintains that this is a healthy way to be, and I agree.

Many times, the end of a marriage is like a gas fire for the first months or years as the exes become accustomed to a new way of being with each other and their children and friends. I've read enough horror stories on blogs about who's taking out their anger on who to know that the evil green monster of hatred and jealousy is alive and well. My ex-husband came from quite a dysfunctional family. He was raised by a grandmother and alcoholic step-grandfather thinking that his "Sis" was his sister when,in fact,she was his birth mother. She became pregnant at the age of 16 by a step-brother in the same household and the lie was quickly established. Around the age of 13, he was told the truth after he found his birth certificate. His "grandparents" received a SS check for his care, and they had a son of their own. My ex...let's call him J, is a typical ACOA with his control issues way out of control by the time I met him. Passive aggressive behavior is how he dealt with me and his BabyGirl. The way we got together is irrelevant, but the ending of it was my decision. I spent over twenty years trying to love someone who didn't know the true meaning of the word, and I finally got tired and gave up. My sincere hope was that he would find some kind of peace, whether with someone else or just on his own. That's sure as hell what I was looking for.

He is now sitting in the county jail serving a 30 day term for worthless checks. He is homeless. I have held my daughter's hand and wiped away her tears during the months that she has watched him destroy his body and his mind, first with methamphetamines and then with crack in the company of users who prey on "nice" folks with addictions. She has struggled, as I have, to let go of him as we watch him slowly kill himself. And we wonder why and how someone can get to the point where they don't care about anything but the next buzz. I felt a little bit guilty for awhile, but not much. Each person on this earth is ultimately responsible for their own actions, and for the consequences of those actions. Entitlement doesn't have a place in my vocabulary.

For those of you who are jealously watching every move made by your ex and snarking at their happiness, consider this scenario. All you wanted was a new life with a chance for peace and happiness for you and your child(ren). What you got,instead, was the next act of a real live human tragedy over which you have no control. Something evil is the director of this play. And all you want is for the curtain to close and it all be over.

Actually, I'm okay and so is BabyGirl. We still cry at the sadness of what we know is such a waste of a kind soul that won't ask for or accept help because of pride. But that soul is in our past now. And this is my letter to that soul. Keep the faith, J. I've moved on, and I hope that you will too.

^j^