Morning comes, alarm beeping, needles piercing my scalp.


I shut the alarm off, even the act of reaching over my head causing the world to tilt, nausea rocking through me, and I grimace. 

I lay there for a few minutes, taking slow, shallow breaths, hoping the vertigo would subside… knowing it would instantly return as soon as I try to sit up… but my body tells me it has to reach the bathroom soon.

In a minute, I tell it silently.  Just give me a minute.  And I roll gingerly onto my side to prepare myself.

Finally, I catch my courage in a breath, slowly pushing myself to a seated position, head hanging.  The dizziness swirls, gorge rises as the thunderous pain in my head pounds. In time with my own heartbeat, it pulses- an evil clock tick-tock, tick…breathe…

My dog, Rosie, hops up from the floor and follows my swaying progress from bedroom to bathroom, nails clicking, sounding to me like a thousand soldiers marching in time behind me.

But I make it to the bathroom without falling down, and do what nature demands.

Wash my hands in cold water, slide their cool wetness over the back of my neck. Temporary relief, at best, it does not last.  But I can stand now, and I shuffle, zombie-style, down the hall to let Rosie outside.

Oh, God. Opening the back door…morning sunlight sears my retinas, the pain now a fiery thing that eats at me.  But Rosie is now out, & I can close the door again, blessed darkness a balm as I force myself back to the kitchen, and the medication.

Strong pills & cool water slide down my throat, a promise of relief and sleep ahead, but not instant.  And I have one more responsibility before I can collapse.

My phone lies on my mattress. I press the buttons to call in to work, wincing when one of my coworkers answers – it’s too loud TOOLOUD. But I pull it away from my head only a little so she can hear me ask for the supervisor.

My tongue feels swollen, thick & stumbling over the simple words.  My voice, hoarse & crackling.

“I’m sorry, I won’t make it in today. I have a migraine.”

Finishing the call, I lay the phone back down, rearranging myself on the bed, looking for the coolest spot in the sheets.  Knowing relief is waiting 15 more minutes down the line when the drugs kick in…and I will sleep.

And knowing, that the only ones out there who understand the difference between headache & migraine are the ones who’ve been on this same hell’s journey, the gruesome ticking bomb of a clock pounding in their head, the invasion of overstimulation…sight, sound, smell, taste…all overwhelming, all too much, until you have to seek oblivion just for a moment’s rest.

The absence of pain is the miracle we await.

And, as the wave of narcotics rolls over me, I take my first deep breath of the day…roll over, and fade into the cool darkness behind my eyelids.


Tuesdays are for Nonsense and Musings



I want someone who will introduce me to his friends with a silly grin on his face.

Someone who, when I’m in a bad mood, knows to just let me be mad…and then when to coax me out of it with a smile, a kiss & a hug.

Someone who will let me take care of him when he’s not feeling well, instead of being a big, tough bastard who needs no one.

Someone not afraid of the commitment I need in my life. I need that, and haven’t had it for a very long time… including when I was married.  He was committed to remaining married, but he had no desire to commit to loving me, or even liking me, very much.  I need to know that the man in my life wants ME, with all that entails.

I’ve been talking to/involved with someone long distance for almost 2 years now, and I’m hoping that he’ll be able to come here soon. (It’s a long way from there to here, but we’re working on it)

He wants the whole shebang. Family, home, love, a life together, forever and ever, amen. 

And I sit here, just hoping… crossing fingers/eyes/toes… because I’ve had it all fall apart too many times, leaving me alone.


And now, for the Nonsense:

I gave Schnicklefritz, the Toddler Tornado,  a haircut last night. Buzzed on the sides and back, and just long enough on top to give him a “faux hawk”. I would post a pic, but I was not allowed to paparazzi him. Some days he loves the camera, other days…not so much.

EldestDaughter & Schnicklefritz are going to see family in Iowa this weekend, and OnlySon is headed to his father’s after school lets out for the summer tomorrow… contemplating a weekend alone, you say?

Enter tragic drama with YoungerDaughter! Roommate troubles are bringing her home for some “Mommy and Sympathy” time. A little late-night binge tv, some desperately unhealthy snacks, & some thrift shopping is what’s on the menu… along with some house cleaning.


Gramma, I love you! And the dirt pile in Great-Grandma’s yard. Hugs??


My dad stripped this of many years’ worth of paint, & I wood – filled some nail holes, sanded the top, & sprayed 3 coats of semi-gloss polyurethane on. New brushed nickel drawer pulls & nailed the lock covers back on.

I like it just how it is, stripped of artifice, with the evidence of the past still marking it, ever so slightly, but shielded from the elements, put back together, & made useful again.

Hmm, maybe some Musings among the Nonsense.


Project in Progress

There are a lot of things going on at my house simultaneously, these days.

EldestDaughter is packing, in preparation to move into her own place. Hopefully soon. She’s just waiting on the housing lady to contact her.

Dear Goddess, let it be soon – we’re both getting tired of living with each other.

I’m packing up YoungerDaughter’s room. Moving her stuff into storage, considering she hasn’t lived here all year, & has no plans of ever moving back in. She has been in an apartment with some friends all year, is staying there through the summer for summer school, & has 1 year left of college.

Highly unlikely she’ll ever sleep in the room next to mine again. Why is her stuff still here?


I’m working on multiple furniture restoration projects at the moment. *shrug* Why take them on? I need the dresser, and the other 2 projects – a nightstand & a re-covered seat for a vanity table… well, they’re spare time fun.

I’m still working on bonsai trees, and have other art projects I’m going to be experiment  with. 

I made my mom a swing for her fairy garden out of some woodbine (vine-like trellis herpes- it won’t go away, no matter what I do)


*shrug* spare time sitting on my front step. 

And about those trees… here’s some of the latest:


Mother’s Day present for my Mom.


Mother’s Day present for a coworker’s mom.

And here are a couple of the latest to go up in my shop on Etsy – Just How I’m Wired




As you can see, I’m branching out into applying the trees to stones.

So, between one thing and my mother, I’m a little busy.

And yet, I still have time to obsess about shit I can’t change, control, or affect.

Insomnia can suck it.

I’M the project in process.


Shaky Days

I’ve been avoiding posting, for a while. These last couple weeks have been anxiety-ridden, and I simply haven’t felt much like writing about it.  My medication has been pretty much all that’s held me from vibrating to pieces.

The days have been shaky & full of equal parts joyous anticipation – and wary dread.

The nights have been riddled with insomnia & over analyzation.

The tension hasn’t ended; in fact, it’s still growing,  because the time is drawing near for E to arrive.

And I’m not completely sure how I am going to handle it.

What if he’s disappointed? What if, after all this time… it’s not everything he wanted? What if I’m not everything he’s built me up to be?

What if I fall off the pedestal he’s put me on?

Please…Goddess…let him love me for who I really am.

2 years of talking.
Please don’t let this be in vain.

Don’t break my heart -again.


It Takes Stones

The ride started on Saturday. A day of fun for most, but a day full of pain & stress for me, ending with my eldest taking me to the emergency room once again that night.

The diagnosis I expected.

Laparoscopic Cholecystectomy was what the Doctor ordered.

Gall bladder removal.

Sunday, I did nothing but wait. The surgeon came around about 10 am, & told me they would schedule my surgery – but didn’t give me a “when”. So, I sat and waited all through Sunday, never getting an answer whether I’d actually be going in that day. They didn’t even allow me to have my anti-anxiety meds, which made the whole waiting process that much more delightful. And with strong pain meds being administered about every 2 hours, I was in and out of consciousness sporadically, sleep came in short bursts, only to be interrupted by beeping machines & busy nurses.

Monday morning, I lost it. Broke down in tears when the surgeon finally made his rounds, & told me that they’d “try to fit me in” that day. I told him that I am a single mom, my kids need me, I hadn’t been allowed my anti-anxiety meds, so my anxiety was through the roof, and no one would tell me when I was going to be getting out of there. 

Believe me, I thought about just pulling the IV (which blew out my vein, then the nurses blew out 2 more looking for another good spot) and skipping out without the surgery. I came damned close more than once, but after talking to E, who calmed me down considerably, I stuck it out.



Both arms look like I got caned.

Monday  afternoon, I was finally taken into surgery, & they had a robot do the surgery. I guess there might be something redeeming in AI after all, because the job was neatly done.

Four neat stab wounds to the abdomen later, I was sent home Tuesday, my mom drove me to get my pain meds & some snacks for the invalid, as well as the kids.

Mom and Dad had both come up to see me on Monday, bringing flowers, and my dad even bought me a book on Nicola Tesla, who is one of my heroes. I have yet to read the book, however, because Dad took it home – he wanted to read it too! 

So, now I sit at home, waiting for the incisions to heal, waiting for the pain to subside so I can cough without wanting to hold myself together, and waiting to feel good enough so I can go back to work.  The surgeon wanted me to take 2 weeks off, but that isn’t possible, so we compromised on me taking 1 week, and seeing how I can get through at the office, maybe half days for a little while.

Right now, pretty much everything from my sternum to my belly button hurts. But, it’ll heal. And I’ll get on with my life.

It just takes stones.

What the Letters Taught Me

B – taught me that I was strong enough to walk away when it became obvious that love was dead, & I was no longer a partner, but a “comfortable convenience”. I learned that I could turn my life inside out, upside down, & sometimes – that’s what it takes to get back on track.

A- taught me that I am still fun to hang out with. That, after years of being passed over, I was still desirable. Still able to laugh & be silly, and that smart & sexy are still part of my repertoire.  But, I also learned that when the future shows you no change coming, no forward motion, you need to step off the path & wander your own way for a while.

J- – broke my last “give a fuck”. It was a pivotal point in my life. And I learned that I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life, but, if I end up that way… I can survive. I will never let another human being destroy me that way. Ever.

F- taught me – that sometimes… Love isn’t enough to fix someone else’s issue. And I learned that it doesn’t matter how I feel about someone if they won’t let me get close enough to prove it. Dragons are feral, wild & skittish creatures who will walk their own path, no matter what, or who, gets hurt & left behind.

And – E- well… E has so far taught me the meaning of patience in the face of insurmountable troubles. I’ve learned that I am more willing to wait than I ever thought I could be capable of.  I’ve learned that I can still have faith, still have the ability to BELIEVE in something that others just can’t, or refuse, to see. 

And yet… There are nights when I sit here, alone in the dark… And I… I am still alone. My “give a fuck” is still broken. I still doubt my own worth, sometimes.

Because the biggest thing I’ve learned over the last 5 years?

They always leave.