Standing at the Crossroads, Waiting for ~

For a long time now, I have felt as though I’ve been in limbo.

Imagine a crossroads, dusty and forlorn, on a lonely stretch of deserted gravel road. A middle-aged, redheaded woman sits on a stack of boxes, staring off into space, absently tucking flyaway hairs behind her ears, and sighing at nothing in particular. The sun sits midway through the afternoon sky, warming her back, and she stands, wanders up to the dented stop sign, looks left, looks right, turns back & sits down again.



For what, you might ask?

Oh, for the fulfilment of a promise, for the chance to change her circumstances, for the liberation of knowing that she’s successfully raised the last of her children to an independent, adult stage of life, & she can make decisions now, solely based on what’s best for her, and no one else. 

I love my children.  I love that I was given the opportunity to raise them, to love them, to nurture their growth into responsible, independent adults.

But, every large decision I’ve made in my life since March 13, 1991, has been influenced heavily by “what’s best for the child/children”, not just for me.  

And for the last few years, I’ve felt as though there was this staticky, dusty place in the back of my brain, where that woman sits at the crossroads, waiting for the next stage. Waiting for “what comes next”.

Men have come and gone from my life, for whatever reasons they felt were valid at the time. Only 1 said he was in it for the long haul; but even he has failed to actually appear in person to begin this life he says he longs for. All the rest, whether they originally said they were “there for me” or were just in it for the moment, or nostalgia, or just wanted the temporary convenience of another warm body nearby, ended up walking away. 

I’m tired of being a “temporary fix”. I’m weary down to my bones of waiting for this elusive “luv” to show up. I’m not content, anymore, to be someone’s “right now”.

I want more. I want to go, get out, move and shake and rattle some cages. I want something to change.

And I want to stop being that woman at the crossroads, waiting for…

1 more year… Then…watch me.

Watch me fuck shit up; shake a few trees to see the residents fly out, screeching about being dislodged from their comfortable perches; watch me change my little corner of the world as I rise up from that stack of boxes, kick them into the ditch, and pick a direction to 

Just. Start. Walking.

Then. Watch me. As I walk away, & start my own life. 

As difficult as it will be to start over at the middle age of 47 (as I will be this time next year), I will do it. 

Because I’m tired of limbo.

Tired of waiting for change to swoop me up & deliver me someplace else.

Tired of being left by the side of the road when I’m no longer “convenient”.

Fuck that. 

It’s my turn.

Sturgeon Moon

I’m waiting for that moon, tonight.

The full moon. The lunar eclipse riding in the Aquarius constellation. The autumn’s change moon that is supposed to shake things up, change my world, and rattle all the cages, freeing beasts and beauties alike.

I’m waiting for this fiery moon to rise.

Something has to change.

I’ve told friends that I’m tired of being single, that I’d like to have a “special someone” again. That I want a relationship with someone that I know is headed toward commitment, eventually.

That, someday, I want to get married again.

And they tell me to “be patient”, that love will find me when I least expect it.

But how does that happen when you don’t ever go out, meet new people, try new things & new places?

And no, I’m not going on the dating apps again. I’ve gotten into enough trouble for myself there.

But, you ask, to rely on the moon to change this…isn’t that stretching credulity a bit?

Not in my faith, it’s not.

Being Pagan, I look to the universe to hand me my cues, and yes, that means the moon’s cycles, the stars in the heavens, the ebb and flow of the seasons & the tides.  The energies that I receive from contact with nature help me in more ways than one, and often.  

Sometimes, I forget that.

So, tonight, I’m drawing in the moon, calling her light into myself, and bathing in the changes she is going to bring.

Because I am a child of that moon, those stars, this earth.  

And I will honor and remember…

And try to be patient.

The Ghost in the Machine…

*brought to you via today’s Daily Post Prompt*

My phone rings, and it is him.

The ghost in the machine.

His voice floats over the distance, telling me things I’ve longed to hear, waited years for, hoped incessantly to come true.

But words are wind.

Blown away in a breath, dispersed into the ether from whence they came, worth no more than the air it took to speak them.

Promises broken, dreams scattered like Legos on the floor, causing pain when encountered, alone and stumbling through the dark.

Some days, I wish I could exorcise this spirit, banish him from my life, so I could move forward & seek love elsewhere…

Other days, I cling to the time spent, holding tightly to the feelings engendered by this disembodied voice, this dislocated ghost who dwells inside my phone, my computer, my head.

How do you dislodge such a deeply entrenched resident?


I’ve reopened the wound more than once, staunched the bleeding, laid fire to the injury, in the hopes of sealing the breach, but it does no good.

Time heals all wounds, they say…

But how much time am I supposed to grant this spirit, this ghost, before I cry “ENOUGH!!” ?

3 years…

And counting…

Up and At ‘Em…

So, I got up and got busy.

This morning started very slowly, and I wasn’t feeling my best, so I decided to put in some extra effort on myself, first, to make me feel better.

Makeup, hair, & a nice shirt with jeans made me feel more like doing, so, I got busy.

Vacuuming, mopping, dusting, dishes, & moving some furniture later, and I’m doing better.  

Maybe it was the mindless housekeeping, maybe it was forcing myself to focus on each task as I went about them, and not being able to linger on the million things that’ve been swirling through my brain…I’m not sure.  

It helped.

So, tomorrow, I’ll be doing more of the similar. Laundry, kitchen cleaning, & a short trip to the office for some handywork. 

And this evening?

Crafting….and an adult beverage. 

I might end up with some funky looking crafts, but hey! It’s all art, right?

Up and at ’em, Chickie.

*update* I have also now roasted a turkey breast & made chocolate chip cookie dough, which is currently chilling in the fridge, so I can bake them tomorrow.  I’d better sleep like a rock, tonight.


For the last couple of nights I’ve been spending the major portion of my time just sitting. 

Thinking about everything & nothing, it’s been chaotic & silent inside my brain, both at the same time.

Rather like having the TV set on a static-only channel, white noise the constant companion, I haven’t been able to focus long enough to actually accomplish anything of note.  I have crafts that sit on my shelf, mocking me, telling me silently that, if I don’t get busy soon, I’ll be letting myself, as well as others, down. My house quietly collects all the dog and cat hair in corners, dust bunnies turning into rabid, mini badgers just waiting to grow up into Tazzy-devils.  I have 4 days of my dishes in the sink, waiting for me, only to be passed over as I can’t seem to motivate myself to take care of them.

I know I need to just push myself.  I know this.


Yesterday was chaotic & emotionally difficult.

Hell, that’s an understatement.

Yesterday evening was an emotional train wreck.

And all it took was a phone call to derail my brain & heart.

Some of the biggest decisions I’d made lately, fell apart in one conversation. And I’m still trying to process it all.

Only, it seems my thoughts have gotten stuck in zombieland, and one of the undead is gnawing on my brain, while another has gone after my heart…

A Work in Progress

I’ve been a work in progress since the day I was born, always reaching, striving, seeking. Sometimes I reach my goals, sometimes I have to reset the bar, due to (A) having unrealistic goals to start with; and (B) outside factors that affect my ability to get there.

One of my goals since my divorce has been to lose weight.  It’s been an ongoing struggle.  I was miserable during the last few years of my marriage, & my body showed it. But I’m working on that.

Now, this next part…isn’t so easy to post.  It makes me feel very vulnerable. But…that’s what this blog is for – to share the parts of my life that I’m not always comfortable sharing…so, here goes.

This was me in 2009. The pink lashes went along with the pink shirt for something we were doing at work regarding breast cancer awareness.  The pink just makes the picture one I like even less, as I’m so not a pink person.

Ugh. I hate that picture of me, but I keep it to remind & motivate me to never let myself get that unhealthy again. Physically or emotionally.

And… Here I am today.

I’d cut the head right off the picture if I could, bad hair…

But there’s progress. 

And that’s the important part.