Tag Archives: Aging

Excellent Article On “Why Didn’t You Just Leave?”

With all the publicity lately surrounding Ray Rice and Oscar Pistorius the topic of Domestic Violence has been brought to the forefront in the news; and the injustice we see happening when it comes to the abuser paying for his crimes of abuse. The obvious disregard for the rights of the victim is unbelievable and discouraging; it is almost enough to make a victim feel that there is no point in even trying to seek justice and she should quietly hide in a corner and pray he leaves her alone and doesn’t harm her any more.

To speak out can put the victim directly in harm’s way because the abuser never wants to be revealed for the person he really is, whether he is a football player or a mechanic at the local garage. There are two things a narcissist hates more than you, being opposed and being exposed.

But there is only one way to end domestic abuse and that is to keep speaking out, louder than ever, voices from all corners of the world united in a chorus of the truth exposing these toxic soul crushers for what they are; the more voices the louder it gets and sooner or later someone has to pay attention.

Society is starting to grumble, with Pistorius and Rice, people are realizing something is terribly wrong with our judicial system, that if a man that famous will do something like that then maybe there is more to this than just weak women who like to be slapped around.

Now, more than ever we have to ride the momentum and shout it out, October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month and I hope we all are out there raising awareness any way we can.

I know some women (and men) don’t feel comfortable speaking out, or maybe they are just too afraid of their ex; i don’t want anyone to do anything that might jeopardize their safety, but there are ways you can speak out anonymously, put posters up raising awareness, post anonymously on the internet and  if you are in an abusive relationship take the steps you can to get out before it is too late.

Please do not excuse the abuse any more, don’t make excuses for him, stop dreaming about the day he morphs back into the man you fell in love with, it isn’t going to happen. Be prepared, admit, if only to yourself; that you are in danger and take notes, tell someone you trust, start journaling, and building your evidence against him; at least if he kills you there is a chance he will pay for his crimes.

The following Huffington Post article is something we should all pass along to as many people as we can, it is sobering and needs to be heard by society worldwide. Please share these true stories of abuse and why these women didn’t “just Leave” here is the link

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/09/12/why-didnt-you-just-leave_n_5805134.html?ir=Crime

Sorry for the screw up on the original post. I don’t know what happened.

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Regret Is Best Served With Lots Of Ketchup

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Here I am, on the night of my 56th birthday and I feel like an old sage, (or at the least old and saggy) like I should have some profound words of wisdom to have reached this age, after all it is more than 1/2 a century. I am definitely way more than 1/2 way through my life.

From the amount of grey hair I have, I should be so damn smart that people are lined up at my door waiting for me to impart them the meaning of life.

I looked, there’s no one out there.

I guess word got out that for all my life experience I am better at telling you what NOT to do, instead of what to do.

When my son got married, he said to me in that sweet-naive-know-it-all kinda way 20 year old’s have, “I am not going to be like you mom, I am only getting married once.”

My reply had been, “Look, maybe you won’t come to me for advice on how to make a marriage last, but if you ever want to know what not to do, I’m your gal.”

Sometimes I think knowing what NOT to do is more

important than knowing what to do.

There you go, that’s it, after over 50 years that is the extent of my profound wisdom. Make sure you pin it to your Pinterest!

btw, my son is now divorced. Maybe he should have come and asked what not to do. I would have said,

“Don’t marry her, she’s not right for you.” But would he have listened?, not likely.

 

That’s the way life is, you have to make your own mistakes and hopewaiter

to God when you screw up and you are choking on your own words

there is someone there to say,

“For dessert we have humble pie, it goes down better with ice cream.”

 

Do You Have Hope For The Future

If there is one thing I have learned over the past few years it is this; that even when you seem to have reached the end, even when you think you can not go on another day, or all your hopes and dreams have been dashed, when you hurt so bad you don’t think you can stand the pain, because of some thing from the past (after all if it happened yesterday it is from the past); it is never over, not as long as you are breathing. Every morning that you open your eyes is another chance to rewrite your life.

I listen to CBC radio everyday, I like the interviews they do and it keep me in touch with the outside world. Today they were talking about aging and referred to the poem below. I Googled Robert Frost “Do you have hope for the future” and the poem at the bottom of this post is what came up. Not only did the poem strike a cord with me, but the stories that followed. We never know what the future is going to do to our past.

It was very profound for me, I can relate so well. The  albatrosses I put on my son’s shoulders, one’s he never should have had to bear.

My son is moving back to BC and his friends took him out for a goodbye dinner on the weekend. This is the text message he sent me from the restaurant along with a picture of him with a man.  “this is Brian (not his real name) he has been my adoptive dad since I moved here, family dinners etc. he’s as amazing guy.” (funny how that happens where ever Kris goes, men step up and want to become his surrogate father)

My reply was, “That’s nice he’s there. He’s a brave man volunteering to be your dad. 🙂 Just kidding Hon.”

He said, “He is demanding I introduce you two lol”

Me “LOL why, to give me shit?”

Kris’s reply, “No, because I brag how amazing my mother is and he wants to meet that amazing lady” lol

Me, “Aaawwwwwwwww that’s so sweet. What a good kid you are.”

My point? It wasn’t that long ago I was so ashamed of myself and how I handled certain situations with JC and my boy and I was sure Kris would never forgive me and I had scarred him forever. For that matter I thought his father not being in his life when he was growing up was going to leave horrible scars. Yes he suffered from his father’s neglect, he suffered from my mistakes but life has a way of providing the means to heal, or God does. You never know what the future holds and it isn’t until you are in the future that the past makes sense and can take on a whole new meaning. What the future brings can turn a horrible event in your life into a blessed event. I know it to be true in so many areas of my life.

I struggle with believing that when I am going through whatever trauma but; God, the powers that be, karma, who ever is in control up, never let me down and they won’t let you down either.

You will survive and you will thrive, you just have to believe the future will heal the past.

Thanks, Robert Frost

by David Ray

WEDNESDAY, 31 JANUARY, 2007

Poem: “Thanks, Robert Frost” by David Ray, from Music of Time: Selected and New Poems. © The Backwaters Press. Reprinted with permission.
Thanks, Robert Frost

Do you have hope for the future?
someone asked Robert Frost, toward the end.
Yes, and even for the past, he replied,
that it will turn out to have been all right
for what it was, something we can accept,
mistakes made by the selves we had to be,
not able to be, perhaps, what we wished,
or what looking back half the time it seems
we could so easily have been, or ought…
The future, yes, and even for the past,
that it will become something we can bear.
And I too, and my children, so I hope,
will recall as not too heavy the tug
of those albatrosses I sadly placed
upon their tender necks. Hope for the past,
yes, old Frost, your words provide that courage,
and it brings strange peace that itself passes
into past, easier to bear because
you said it, rather casually, as snow
went on falling in Vermont years ago.

Literary and Historical Notes:

It’s the birthday of one of the most important folklorists in American history, Alan Lomax, (books by this author) born in Austin, Texas (1915). (Some sources give his birthday as January 15.) His father, John Lomax, was one of the first people ever to travel around the American South to write down the lyrics of folk songs sung by ordinary people in saloons and on back porches. It was John Lomax who discovered a folksong that became known as “Home on the Range.” By the time Alan Lomax was born, his father had taken a banking job to support the family. But he lost that job during the Great Depression, and in 1933, he applied for a grant to start collecting folk songs for the Library of Congress. Alan was 18 years old and the time, and he went along as an assistant.

They got in their beat-up old Ford with a tent and a 500-pound recording machine and went off to scour the prisons, plantations, and lumber camps, looking for songs. One of the stops they made on that first trip was Angola prison, and it was there that they first recorded a barrel-chested man with a beautiful deep voice, who went by the name of Leadbelly and introduced them to songs like “Goodnight Irene” and “Rock Island Line.”

Alan’s father would go on to become the first curator of the Archive of American Folk Song in the Library of Congress, but it was Alan would do most of the collecting. He traveled all over, recording everything from church singers to voodoo ceremonies. Unlike other musicologists, Lomax always tried to get the best recording equipment available. And even though he was recording on the fly in the field, he was careful about microphone placement and did everything he could to capture a high-quality sound.

He was one of the first people to record Woody Guthrie and helped get him a recording contract. In 1941, he went on a quest to try to find the legendary bluesman Robert Johnson, only to find that Johnson was already dead. But along the way, he made the first recording of a bluesman who called himself Muddy Waters. Waters later said that it was hearing the recording that Lomax had made that persuaded him to pursue a career in music.

Lomax also wrote numerous books about folk music and, in 1993, published a memoir of his early life called The Land Where the Blues Began.

It’s the birthday of Norman Mailer, (books by this author) born in Long Branch, New Jersey (1923). His novel The Naked and the Dead (1948) became the definitive literary novel about World War II, and it made Norman Mailer famous at the age of 25. His next two novels flopped, and critics said that he had failed to live up to his promise as a writer. He was depressed by the bad reviews he had gotten, and he decided that he would take a break from trying to write the great American novel. Instead he wrote one of the most confessional books that had been published up to that time, Advertisements for Myself (1959), about his own ambitions and fears.

Mailer became a regular and controversial guest on late-night talk shows, trying to stir people up against conformity. He also helped invent a new style of journalism, in which the journalist himself was a character in his own stories. He used that style in his bookThe Armies of the Night (1968), which won the Pulitzer Prize for non-fiction.

Selfies

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Ok I give up; it has to be an age thing. Young people take pictures of themselves all the time and they look great. The pouty lips, big eyes that look like they just saw a ghost, no neck wrinkles, no grey hair, brilliant white teeth (when they aren’t pouting and they smile) I have been trying for months to get a decent picture of myself to put up as my gravatar and to submit with my article for the magazine.

I have given up.

I came to the shocking realization that maybe that is what I really look like?!? I am actually that old and not the angle of the camera or the lighting??!!.

While helping my brother move last weekend he handed me an envelop full of old photos. Some of me as far back as when I was two but several from my twenties and damn I wish I would have appreciated how pretty I was back then.

I never felt really attractive, I knew I couldn’t be that bad; the guys were certainly interested but I didn’t “feel” beautiful. I don’t think that is that unusual for young women. Young women are always comparing themselves to other women and are so critical of their own body.

My mom always complained that she needed to lose weight, that her ass was too big (all the women on her side of the family have that pear shaped figure) I have it too but I got the height of my dads side so I am a longer pear but still always had a thing about my weight. I knew I had a pretty face; I was always told I had a beautiful smile and was nicknamed “Smiley” by most of my customers, even got jobs because of my smile.
I still get attention but mostly because I’ve been told I have “a great ass”. Lol

A couple of years ago I was loading scrap and a young guy called to his buddy to come over. I was used to be teased by this guy and others in the same complex so knew something was up.

I kept loading, which required some bending over with my back to them. Then I hear, “See what did I tell ya? And ass of a 30 year old right?”

The other guy agreed. I stopped what I was doing and turned to give them shit (in a joking way because I wasn’t offended) then the guy says, “See??? From the front 50 from the back 30.”

Now I was 52 at the time so to be called 50 wasn’t that bad; but I would have preferred to look 30 all over or at the very least split the difference and be 40 all over.

I have found that the last two years have really aged me, a lot. And as much as I tell myself I have earned these wrinkles and I am still in good shape, I don’t like getting older.

In my mind I feel sexy and I remember a day when walking around naked in front of a man didn’t bother me in the least but not so comfortable about the thought of that now. Not that I am getting a whole lot of offers.

I think what gets me the most is the qualifying remark after someone says I am pretty….”for my age”.

I will keep trying to get a decent picture of myself; I never was photogenic. That’s it!! I’m not old looking, I’m just not photogenic!!
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There is life and light after the narcissist, I promise! Hugs Carrie

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You know its snowed in the middle of the night when you wake up and its very quiet outside. The snow muffles all the sounds.

They were saying it was going to really dump last night but I got home around midnight and nothing was falling yet. But there sure was a lot of the fluffy white stuff this morning.

I love snow; not -45 with the wind chill kind of snow but this kind of snow. The kind of snow that gives you a plausible reason to curl up on the couch for the day by the fireplace (even if its just an electric one). I like taking walks in this kind of snow, hearing the crunch as people walk by. Its supposed to be gone by Sunday but I’m enjoying it while I can.

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Looking up the weeping willow

Since I started painting I look at everything differently. Now when it snows I take note of how the trees look laden with snow, how the branches bend under the weight: even what the road looks like after the plow has been through.

You notice so much more once you have tried to paint a snow scene and all you end up with is a piece of white paper. Snow is white, our eyes see white and until you try to duplicate what you see unto a canvas you don’t realize how many different shades of white there are. I was quite happy for years, decades, thinking snow was white, until I tried to paint.

Once you learn there are shades of blue, grey, crisp white and soft white you never view it the same. Its the same with flowers or trees, to get depth you need shades of colour. To be real it must have shades of colour.

A narcissist is like that. They appear to be like everyone else. They appear to have emotions and seem to care and love but there is no depth to them. They aren’t real, or the image they project is not real. When they are in a relationship and the depth of their personality is tested it becomes apparent they have no depth of character. They are one colour, no shading, a blob of colour on a piece of paper.

Once you get to know them and realize they are a sham; even if you stay you can never view them the same. After you have been with a narcissist you can never view people the same. You get accustomed to looking for sharing, depth of character and can readily pick out the people who are a facade and those who are real.

It amazes me now how I got so sucked in by JC but I had never had to deal with a narcissist before. I had gone decades quite happily assuming all people were basically alike. We tend to think other people think like us, have feelings like us, that they hurt, love, feel guilt, remorse and if they get angry they have a good reason. So we don’t challenge what we see, we are happy in our ignorance.

But our innocence was taken away by the narcissist and now we have to face the facts and it can be an ugly truth, or it can be a rebirth and something positive. It took me a long time and I can’t honestly say I never think of JC and feel regret, or wish he had been different but I don’t allow myself to dwell on it. I have come away from it all with a greater appreciation for the good people in the world.

It is hard to describe, but once you have been away from the narcissist’s influence long enough you develop an appreciation for the beauty around and in you. I have never been more content with who I am than since the narcissist. He almost broke me, I don’t think I could have gotten much lower than I was, I can’t imagine it. I still have the same flaws in my character that I always had but I don’t stifle myself any more, I don’t second guess myself or doubt myself any more.

One thing that being with JC made me do was to look deep within, I took his criticism to heart and I forced myself to look at myself and my motives.

This is what I came up with; my motives are pure, they were when I was with him, I loved him, I am a good person and I never purposely set out to hurt anyone in my life. I may say something silly sometimes, I may ramble on at times, I speak my truth always and some people don’t like that kind of honesty.

For example while working with my son there were times I know I embarrassed him with my openness about living in poverty. He even said one night in front of everyone “Why do you have to bring up the past, I am trying to put my past behind me.” I wasn’t talking about him per say but to some degree my past is his past and I respect that. But he hadn’t been in on the conversation I was having either and just walked up at the point where I was sharing something from the past. It really wasn’t the topic of conversation. I walked away and went to my room. I was upset at first but then realized he didn’t know what we were talking about and he has a right to be upset but I have a right to speak about my life also. A couple of days later we were walking along and I said something about some times shocking people with my bluntness and he stopped and put his arm around my shoulder and said, “You have earned the right to say anything you damn well please.” and he is right I have, as long as I do it responsibly.

I am not a blob of colour or a sheet of white paper and neither are you, we have depth and shading, and character and we are all very special. Not everyone is going to love us but that’s ok as long as we live in honesty we don’t need everyone to love us. I don’t care what JC thinks of me any more because I know who I am and it feels great.

span class=”post_sig”>There is life and light after the narcissist, I promise! Hugs Carrie

take timeI went looking through old posts last night in hopes of finding something that might help some of the people going through the process of letting go of the N, and staying no contact. I reposted one titled Thank You, from Feb 2012; it was written after JC had popped back into my life after several months of no contact, professed his love and begged forgiveness only for me to go into his Facebook and discover he had gotten engaged 8 days earlier. I was devastated and as you can tell confused, angry, hurt and spinning my wheels.

I read it last night and cried remembering how broken I felt, so utterly helpless, alone and without hope. I cried for the woman who was writing that post, I felt so sorry for her, but I don’t know her, not any more. It is a strange feeling, I can relate so well to her, but I don’t recognize her, I want to comfort her and tell her things will get better. At that time I had no one, truly no one except a handful of people who followed my blog and for whatever reason choose to take me under their wing and urge me to carry on, they gave solid advice lovingly and every day they were there again.  My mother wasn’t around, I had no friends, ( I didn’t feel I had friends I could talk to who would understand,) I guess it was easier to bare my soul to strangers, I could be honest with my feelings with JC’s sister because she had seen what I had gone through near the end but I didn’t feel anyone else would understand and I was ashamed of myself, I didn’t know who this broken person was and didn’t know how to relate to the outside world, I felt disconnected from the rest of the world because my life was so not the life of anyone I had ever known.

Reading that post has made me even more determined to continue with this blog and be there for others going through a similar hell.  I think I tend to over empathize with people who come in here because I assume everyone is feeling as devastated as I was and that is not the case, some are worse off than I was and many are able to move on quite quickly. We all deal with things differently and don’t take this the wrong way please, but I am here to give encouragement and support to the people who are really struggling and are feeling truly lost and broken. I want to be the shoulder to cry on and the voice of reason and empathy.

Some times, especially in the Support Forum I notice some “man bashing” and the women are moving on, dating etc and that is all good and well and I am happy to see anyone move on and find happiness. I do believe dating too soon can be a big mistake because I feel to fully heal you have to take time, do some soul-searching and work on your self-esteem and boundaries.

There are many sites on the net for man bashing and I don’t want this site to join the ranks, I want to keep it as a safe haven for people who are really hurting and seeking encouragement. I don’t know if I am going to offend people by saying this but I have had it mentioned that some people coming in here feel uncomfortable and that they can’t speak openly on the Forum because they are not to the point of dating. I have had men complain that the women are “man bashing” and they feel uncomfortable. The last thing I want is for anyone to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome.

I LOVE men, I DO NOT believe all men are a certain way and I hope that I don’t spend the rest of my life single and celibate 🙂 but I don’t need a man to feel complete or to be happy. Right now I don’t feel I want the added responsibility of a relationship, I don’t feel like sharing, as much as I get lonely sometimes and wish I had a body to snuggle at night; I don’t want just any body. I don’t want to have to answer to anyone or have to consider anyone else’s feelings right now, I don’t want to compromise on anything right now, I don’t want to have to cook dinner or do someone’s laundry or clean a toilet that wasn’t dirtied by me only. I am feeling selfish right now so I know now is not the time to be dating because the few times I wish I had a man in my life are far outweighed by the times I am so damn glad I don’t have a man in my life.

Maybe it is my age, I know when I was in my 20’s and 30’s (I was with JC through my 40’s) having a man in my life was very important. I don’t know if it was being with JC that changed that for me or just getting older, wiser and more confident. Would it have happened if I had not been with JC? who knows. I only know now that as much as I wasted years trying to please JC, someone incapable of love or happiness; I have wasted a good part of my adult life worrying about getting a man, having a man in my life, being pretty enough, intelligent enough, successful enough, sexy enough, skinny enough, and never felt I was enough. I haven’t always dated N’s, in fact I think I had a few pursue me and I dumped them immediately. I have never wanted a love-sick puppy and that is how narcissists come across at first, if a guy came on too strong I pushed him away. I actually chose to love JC, I chose to let a man sweep me off my feet and told myself to not be so independent. I have casually dated since JC, the first man I dated was an N I think, I got the feeling right away but I also was not as healed as I am not and find that I am more in control of my emotions as time goes on. If I recognize someone as being an N I just stay clear, whereas a year ago it was harder to trust my instincts; just another reason I don’t advocate dating too soon.

Personally I feel that for a person coming out of a long-term narcissistic relationship it is pure luck if they don’t get involved with another narcissist. I don’t want to always be saying that to people and bursting their bubbles and excitement about dating but I can’t advocate dating too soon and I don’t want people coming into the site to feel they should be ready to date after a month (or even weeks).

I really urge people who are struggling with an issue, whether it is guilt, no contact, gas lighting, whatever issue is foremost for you, to use the search feature and look it up. There are many articles covering every issue there is about narcissists and the effect they have on people and how to best handle it. I simply can’t keep covering the same topics over and over, I don’t have the time or the desire and the information is already there. I am there with a sympathetic ear and shoulder to cry on but please take some initiative for your own healing and research it yourself, read my posts and the comments, there are some amazing stories buried in the archives of this blog plus other blogs covering the subject of domestic abuse. (I give links to various sites I have found helpful) I encourage everyone to become proactive about their recovery and to respect that we all heal at a our own pace, all of us are in a state of heightened emotions and may be sensitive and be kind with each other.

The one thing that I know is an absolute necessity is NO CONTACT, if you read my older posts you will see I struggled as much as anyone here with no contact but I learned the hard way that it is the only way to start healing and as long as you have any contact at all you are not healing. So when people come in and say they don’t know why they aren’t healing a year after breaking up with the N I automatically know they are still in contact. Your healing begins when you sever all ties to the narcissist, to think you can stay friends, have casual sex or “teach him a lesson” you are only kidding yourself.

You may fall off the wagon and break no contact and that is normal, eventually you will accept that every time you have contact you are set back and get sick of beating your head against a brick wall. I will keep chanting No Contact until it sinks in (with love and empathy of course).

I haven’t been around as much because I am working full-time now and commuting an hour each way so my blogging time has been seriously cut, I also want to start working on a book and do painting for the Christmas craft fair. I am around, read the comments daily and try to reply to comments directed to me personally but I may not comment as much as I used to.

I think what is happening in my life is; I have healed and life is providing opportunities to move on and I feel ready, strong enough, intelligent enough, sexy enough, pretty enough, and confident enough to move forward. Almost 3 years post JC, I have gone from a broken woman who tried to kill herself because she had nothing to live for to the me I want to be with dreams, hopes and looking forward to seeing what lies ahead.

Love and hugs to you all.

Heaven on Earth

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth.
One is nearer to God in a garden
Than any place else on earth.

Dorothy Francis Gurney

The above is an exert from a poem by Dorothy Francis Gurney; I used to have a wooden plaque hanging in my garden with that verse on it.

Through the worst times of my life I have found comfort in my garden. When JC and I were at the resort I spent hours tending my garden, crying, praying for answers, praying for strength, praying for my son and my brother, praying to be given one more chance to save my boy, praying for serenity, and sometimes cursing God for giving me too much to handle.

I always came away from my garden feeling calmer, stronger; it was my refuge. It has been for most of my life. When I lived at the lake before I even met JC I would be out there with a flashlight and a glass of wine tending my garden. It seemed the harder the time I was going through the more beautiful my gardens were. Every year I dug up more sod for more flowers. The little English lady that lived across the street and could barely walk made her way across the road slowly with her walker and came up to where I was pulling weeds and she said, ” I want to thank you for your lovely gardens. I look out my window and your gardens take me back to my childhood and the lovely English gardens. You have a loving touch; I’ve watched you. I just wanted you to know you have given this old lady much pleasure with your gardens.” and she shuffled back to her house. I’ll never forget it and of course I cried.

When we were at the resort I couldn’t afford plants but all the neighbour brought over plants and bulbs as they thinned out their gardens, one brought over a filing box with tons of different seeds for me to pick from. It was a tough year emotionally, like I said, I did alot of praying. It was the most beautiful garden I’ve ever had.

Gardening is so community minded, it brings people together, gives them something to talk about. A person can be talking by and feel free to say, “Your garden is lovely”. Or gardeners are always so willing to share plants, advice, and ask questions. Somehow a garden removes fences, class distinction, age, and even gender, gardeners are all on the same team.

I missed my gardens this year, I planted gardens last year and got compliments but I didn’t take the time to enjoy them because I was on borrowed time there and was trying to work as much as possible. This year I did plant some, but lack of water took its toll.

I pray that someday I have a tiny place, nothing fancy, I’m easy to please. 400 sq ft would do me just fine, with a fireplace (there is nothing like coming home from a long walk on a brisk fall day and the house is toasty warm from a crackling fire) There are few things more rewarding than getting up in the morning to a cold house and finding a few red embers still in the wood stove because all that’s necessary is to pull ghetto damper and throw on a few dry pieces of wood and in minutes the house is warm again.
I want a kitchen big enough that I can cook a pot of soup or chilli or maybe a pot roast and have a few friends over to share my fire and a bottle of wine.  lots of windows to let the sun shine in and hang crystals in. And a covered porch to hang wind chimes and a wooden rocking chair so I can sit out there even when it rains. One wall of book shelves for all those books I keep moving with me and some day want to read, but they look good until then. 🙂 I love books.

A place I can paint. A freezer I can fill with baking at Christmas and maybe even some cabbage rolls and tourtierre. A bath tub I can fill with bubble bath and keep adding hot water to until I am pink and wrinkly.

And a tiny yard trimmed with gardens.

And never have to move; just grow old there, Grandma’s house. Where my son and grand daughter can come to visit and know there are cookies in the cookie jar and my son will go to the freezer and grab some frozen cookies and I can give him shit for eating them before Christmas.

That is what I pray for. Not much, nothing fancy; not a knight in shining armor to save me, no trips around the world. Just a little bit of heaven on earth. The sun for pardon, the bbirds song for mirth.

What for you pray for?