Playing Possum

Ever since Emily went away, several animals have crept into my space.  First  Oye the one eared feral started coming by.  Oye and I have a perfect relationship.  I respect him, give him some of my space, and he expects nothing and gives nothing.  PUUUUURfect!  (Bad pun.)

Right now I don't have the will or capacity to love another animal.  Peripheral is good.  Surface is good.  I think it applies to other aspects of mi vida right now if I'm honest.  It feels like nothing could compare to that love.  Just owning that and living with it for a bit seems both authentic and safe.

One night in the little shack of a laundry room, I heard some creeping.  Figuring it was Oye, imagine my surprise when a juvenile possum crept past until he spied me standing there, thong skivvies (clean I might add) pressed against my mouth as I stifled a horrified scream.  He immediately froze.  I turned off the light, left the laundry and called my Daddy.

Daddy advised leaving the door open overnight and then closing it in the am to keep the little varmint away.  But I kept thinking about his little face and how he really wasn't bothering me.  He was just looking for a shelter. I decided I would allow him to share my space and let him come and go as he pleased.

I knew he was still around as I would occasionally hear him shuffling.  It made me smile to hear him waking up for his nocturnal travels.

Last week,  I bought some dollar store plastic zombies for a Christmas Prank at the office.  They needed to be soaked in water for a week to expand.  They also glow in the dark.

Sat am, I checked them, pleased to see they were almost ready to go.  I left them overnight and went out.  I went to retrieve them Sunday a.m.   The bucket was tipped over and all the zombies were gone.

I joked that the possum ate them.  It turns out, he did eat them!  I found a decapitated zombie and another glowing fella missing a leg.  I feel sooooo bad.  And that CAN'T be good for my little friend.

A call to Wildlife Rescue and a referral to the Possum Lady of El Cajon confirmed that IF my little friend is still alive after consuming 18 GMO glowing plastic toys, the only hope of helping him is to trap him and bring him in.

And casual as we keep it, I still want the best for him.  He kinda grew on me. Just a little.  Okay, I've been crying some.  Stupid animal.  Fuck!

So I'm on my way to borrow a trap and buy some cat food.

Here's hoping he'll grow and glow some more in this crazy life.

Woo Woo Whimsical Goes Shopping

Woo Woo Whimsical, you are banned from going shopping.  I will no longer allow your romantic, silly, sentimental little self to accompany me on Sunday.  As my Gemini twinsey, you are equally lethal to my wallet and my psyche.  I give in to your woo wooedness and end up with clothes I can't wear and the notion to wander through tall grass in bare feet, no undies and a flower in my hair.  And you know what?  That just leads to gnats up the nose and the chance for an errant twig scratching my ass.

In fact, Woo Woo causes a lot of trouble.  She needs to have Snarky, Sassypants Susie keep her in check AND kick her ass every time she gets the notion to sigh at some song, throw baby's breath flowers all over the bed and light candles under a full moon.

 The good news is that I have Halloween costumes for the next 10 years.

Shhhh.....no one will EVER know that I didn't buy these clothes for the purpose of using them as a costume.  Except for the 5 people who read this blog.  Make sure I have your addresses so I don't come trick or treating at your house.

Costume #1:  The fairy/butterfly.  Dyed in beautiful hues of iridescent blues and purples in the softest cotton, this dress also has a pointed hemline worthy of freaking fairy status.  Don't ask me why I thought this dress was so beautiful.  I don't KNOW what I was thinking.   Actually, I don't know what Woo Woo Whimsical was thinking.  Clearly, she was still high from sighting that unicorn in the parking lot at CVS Pharmacy and riding him to the clothes boutique.

Costume #2:  The Bride.

I sometimes don't even REMEMBER how these freaky deaky threads come into my possession.  Such was the case with the fairy number.  I SWEAR some cheeky wood nymphs placed it in my closet while I was sleeping.  That is not the case with this little $85 white wonder.  Made entirely of lovely, lovely creamy dreamy lace, Woo Woo fell in love the minute she spied it in some ridiculously expensive store in Solana Beach.  The fact that it has romantic little buttons running all the way down the back of the dress sealed the deal for Miss Whimsy.   Hey, hit me up if you wanna get married.

Costume #3:  The Majorette

Woo Woo was under the influence of a flirty little afternoon at a vintage store.   At the time,  Woo Woo had a little broken heart, and she spent an unexpected day with a friend.  He made her feel a little beautiful that day. And the light was just right, and we were being silly, and he insisted that this dress was sooo cool.  And it is! - when you time travel back to the early sixties and have a 300 person band backing you and your potentially dangerous steel rod with rubber knobs on both ends.  I said rod.  I said knobs.  That is all...  Still, sigh.

This dress has great memories.  I give Woo Woo a pass on this one.    But I am afraid wearing it out could mean being conscripted into some over aged, wannabe baton girl group still intent on twirling their tassels while handling a big rod in public.  Plus it's made of wool and scratches my nipples. I guess I could learn to nonchalantly scratch my boobs while throwing the baton to impossible heights and waiting for gravity to return it.  Everyone will be watching the baton, and I might be able to scratch that itch in public.

Dress #4:  Satan has his way with Woo Woo.  Whaaaaaaat. The. HELL!?!

I have so may fashion disasters, I can't possibly show all of them.  I will list some of them for you.

Here in NO particular order of yeeeeeech:

1.  Polyester Carol Brady pants from the 70's.-  Blue, cream. elastic waist genuuuuuuine polyester guaranteed to explode if exposed to open flames.  (Also a product of vintage thrift store shopping with my fun friend).  He could have convinced me to wear two bicycle tires as a bikini on THAT day.) Sigh....he said my arse looked good in them.  Plus, I tried them on in the middle of the crowded racks, and he thought that was funny and awesome.
2.  Super expensive polka dot dress from the 50's with a cocker spaniel motif on the pocket.  I know.....WTH!!!!!!  No poodles.  I went for a mutant cocker spaniel.
3.  Black polyester matador pants.  Okay, Okay.  I was loving the cool embroidery up the sides.  Sue me!
4.  Vintage moss green velvet dress from the 20's.  Also very expensive. I loved this dress.  I loved it til I wore it to a Christmas party last weekend and discovered that the hem of the already very short dress tended to roll up like a cheap window roller blind when this wanna be Daisy would sit down.  I thought it was a little drafty each time I got up and that men were paying a lot of attention to me at the party.  I thought it was the new perfume I was wearing.  Nope!  'Nuff said.

I'm changing Woo Woo's name to Woo Woo Wardrobe Wrong.  I've stuffed her in the trunk, but she is pretty powerful.  Plus Priuzilla the Prius is a hatchback with a psuedo trunk of sorts.  One twist of the cheap plastic knobs and she would be free; free to commandeer my fashion sense and credit card.

Oh, Woo Woo.  What fashion disaster will you lead me to next?

Drifting.....

              "I used to be Snow White, but then I drifted."

                                                                        -Mae West

I KNOW.....  I promised snappy and happy.  I give myself a one blog moratorium.  Stupid milestones.  They can be fucking heavy.

It's a chick thing.  The birthday ball hit the same week as October 30th- a whole year since the official clock struck midnight.  A WHOLE year.  It means nothing and everything.  It's just the date of the last date.

The next day I played a Princess

Filled with joy

The clock stopped at midnight

I still had shoes on, so I did not know

Twice he came to me

Wishful strong dreams

I think that wasn't real

Maybe it was the mythical closure dragon

He bites

Realizing the forest I roamed

tumbles to desert and rock

to violent serene below

This place I know

Gathering my metaphorical tail and wits

And shells for my bits

The airwaves brought a song and rhyme

from past circles that lead to this season in time

Salty stinging ouch!

Well, maybe for a second

Okay, a day or two

Fuck!

An honest forever

Stupid Fairy Tales

Water is the place I choose

Will I be a siren to seduce

Or a mermaid who is free?

I'll mind my OWN sea

Swimming out and drifting

The curse is looking back

And seeing he's not there.

The happy ending

(Dang! I never got to finish that)

Is a heart that heals itself.

Labor

Reminded this week of 2007, and my work family flying me home for two weeks so I could take care of my sweet sister in law Jeannie.

Recovering from a stem cell transplant, she needed round the clock care.  She came into my life when I turned eleven and demonstrated to me that a woman can have strength, courage, intelligence and beauty.  She had a kick ass attitude about life.  It was Jeannie who INSISTED I get over my fear and drove me out to get my license after waiting two whole months after I turned sixteen.  So I treasured the chance to be with her and cheer her on.

Jeannie was pretty sick, and the anti-rejection drugs made her exhausted and unable to eat.  Yet, she NEEDED to eat, as she was painfully thin.  A visit to her physician ended with unofficial advice to get some weed.

The next day, the doorbell rang, and I saw Frank Serpico outlined in a halo of winter light standing before me peering through the glass storm door.  Really not Al Pacino, but holy fuck he sure looked like him.  He held a small old fashioned cigar box.  I could only stare.

He cleared his throat and handed me the box.

"This is for Jeannie."

I continued to stare at him like a starstruck teenager.  Then I grabbed my purse sitting at the entry.

"Umm, oh.  That.  How much do I owe you?"

He smiled and waved me off.  Before I could protest, he waved goodbye and disappeared quickly.

Jeannie giggled like HELL when I chided her for not telling me the hottest man alive would be delivering her weed.  I would have at least put on some mascara.

"Who IS that guy?"

"Oh, he's my brother's friend.  He grows it."

The weed did the trick,  and Jeannie gained a little more weight and could tolerate eating more.  She wouldn't smoke inside, so we bundled her up in millions of layers and huddled on the icy patio like two teenagers getting high and ditching class.  We joked often about my crush on our "supplier."  Jeannie, being Jeannie, kept encouraging the flirtation.

Twice more, my Serpico came.  The last time I was ready, and thrust cash into his hand.  He immediately pushed it back and smiled the warmest smile.

"This is a labor of love."

Ahhhhh, MELT!   A million times I replay that scene in my mind and always my heart glows.  At the time, I was shy, insulated, unaware and fearful of living an authentic life and clearly unprepared for my Serpico encounters.

Things have changed.  Jeannie is gone from our world.  This week will be 5 years.   I am healthy, have much more confidence and really, I just can't be fearful.  In her honor, I will do TWO things.  I will register as a bone marrow donor AND while I'm here in Oklahoma this week, I WILL find my fine Serpico and come hell or high water, I'll repay his kindness in a labor of a different kind of love.

LAUGHING.......  Or at the VERY least, he'll get a big fatty from me in the form of a kiss and a hug.

Follow The Signs

I took a detour back to the road that started my new life.  I hadn't been there for awhile, and it felt great to be back.  Then, whoa! A sign appeared indicating the end of the road. It felt so sad to read it.   Hurtful even. This road held so much joy, and I loved the tall, dark haired wild wolf who lived there.  I just stood there lost in the woods for a couple of days.  It felt pretty dark......

And holy Fuck if the Universe didn't send me a huge torch to light the way in the form of an unexpected financial windfall.  Universe, you puckish, crazy cat.   Really?

And STILL I stood at the end of the road- a little overwhelmed and stuck.  I couldn't conceive getting up and leaving. Because walking away truly meant letting go of the old road and giving in to the finality. I didn't want to face the sign, even though the sign maker spelled everything out perfectly.
Damn scorpios ;)

So Universe fated me to see another sign created by an very fun artist I admire about accepting change.  It was like Universe jumping up and down shouting.  "Hey!!!  Hey, over here!  THIS is your road.  Get your ass over here!!!

So I started.  Actually, I jumped.  Let's just say there's gold in them thar hills.  And right now a WellsFargo Coach is on its way to San Francisco Caleefornia to pay off ye old homestead way early.  I know...WHAT THE EFF!  ( I like to imagine that Bart and Waco Kidd and all the good Johnsons in Rock Ridge are making sure the transaction is safe and goes well)

It is scary, but allows me to FINALLY have a permanent space in my beloved Normal Heights, a chance to travel and maybe the chance to welcome another dog into my heart.  I'm hoping this new horizon allows me to forgive, forget and thrive.

2015 held some challenges for sure.  It's time to allow my sassy, random, fun, dorky self to emerge.  Woo Woo Whimsical is banished to a closet with fairies to snort glitter, make flower necklaces and read bad romance novels.  It's time for some bad assery  attitude 'round these here parts.

Life has some pretty funny shit happen.  This is the last serious piece I will write.   I'll fill you in on some fun stuff that happened this year like the flasher with the Sweet Potato Penis, a client who thought peach yogurt was a cure for an ailing hooha, and the day I had to use my bra as a Kleenex.

Sign me up.

Say You'll Remember....

You know the experience of hearing a song for the first time that sends shivers down your spine and expresses the exact emotion you're feeling? We all have.  Borrowed my friend's car and her teenage daughter's CD was playing.  Meant for me to hear I guess.

Bittersweet reunion with someone I love so much recently.  It was so wonderful to see my friend and hug him and catch up and just soak it all in after months of no contact.   I treasured the time so much and felt blessed to see my dark handsome wolf again.  The 4 years I have known him have flown by.  And I was happy and sad at the same time.  I knew he was leaving my little space. I felt it.  On to a different sphere of influence and fame and fortune,  I am so happy for him.  He's worked hard for these moments. Life is about changes - even if we don't want the change.  Accepting the change is hard.  Loving it is impossible.

The past four years?  Giggling over Cosmopolitan sex tips,  the long journey to being there, strings and a slide enchanting me on a surprise July night, overcoming fear, learning, flower petal faux pas, stupid disco candles, a path of lights to my door, FogHorn LegHorn impressions., and many sweet memories. I'm going to miss those intense, dark eyes that hide the sweetest soul.  Not going to pretend that part isn't breaking my heart a little.

I'm letting Taylor take it from here.  Yes, THAT Taylor.  Because she nailed it.  Exactly!  For  this is what my heart would say.......

A Problem Like Maria

I never take terminating someone's employment lightly.  In fact, truth be told I hold the cards for way too long, trying every which way to make it work, ignoring the inevitable, tempting fate.  But the crap part of my job occasionally involves making the painful decision to make changes.  I fall apart after I do it - even if the person turns out to be the biggest piece of shit and totally deserves it. 

And so it was with "Ellen."  I inherited her when we bought the building.  From the very beginning, I remember my first question to the VP when we toured the building for the first time was, "And we're NOT keeping Ellen, right?"  But Ellen remained. 

Ellen was..... well, she was odd.  And not in a good way.  I usually dig people who are unusual or quirky.  In fact, I seek them out. I like people who are unique!  Well into her late forties, she had a petulant, childlike personality.  She was fey.  Sometimes it appeared she was stuck in the preteen years.   She would do and say the most outrageous things- especially during meetings.  My seven other managers would just look at her in exasperation.  I, ever the patient one, would answer her silly question and direct her focus back to the matter at hand.  They would look at me and roll their eyes.

I stuck with Ellen for a long, long time.  I even grew to understand her ways and usually worked around her quirks and learned how to adapt.  It did cause a lot of extra effort on my part, but I felt sorry for her and wanted to make it work.  Finally, Ellen wore me down.  She was becoming a liability to herself and others.  She would leave her office for hours and go shopping at the thrift store.  Hey, I love to go vintage myself, and if she would've bought some great clothes, maybe I would have forgiven her, but Ellen would buy these huge print caftans and try to wear them to work.  (Keep in mind that our dress code is pretty strict and consists of tailored clothing and separates).  The hours she spent away from her job left her office and team in chaos.  The final straw?  She ran out of gas with a bus full of seniors!  She explained to me that she neglected to fill up the bus and was on her way to the gas station and thought she could make it.

With a heavy heart, I had to do it.  I took the VP with me on this one.  After letting her go, we patiently waited for her to pack up the GAZILLION nicknacks, geegaws, craft projects, doodads, etc she had stuffed in every available drawer and cabinet.  This was taking quite a long time and grew to be increasingly uncomfortable.  It was clear to me that I had to do something.  If we had allowed let her continue, we would have been there for hours.

 "Ummm, Ellen, I gently said.  " I tell you what.  I'm going to go ahead and have all the rest boxed up and it will be waiting here for you.  I PROMISE nothing will happen to any of your personal items.  You can come in anytime and pick them up, or I can ship them to you."

Ellen turned and grew quite animated.  She did a little dance, threw her hands in the air and circled twice.  "THIS reminds me of the part in" Sound of Music" where the Baroness offers to help Maria pack.  Only she's not REALLY wanting to help Maria out of kindness.  She just wants her out of the way so that she can have Captain Von Trapp for herself." 

I was stunned!  She DID NOT JUST PULL OUT THE SOUND OF MUSIC CARD!  Seriously?  What do you say to that?   "Ellen, I will make sure you get your things, but it is time for you to go ahead and take the things you do have."

House looked at me in utter confusion.  I looked at him and said, "I do believe I have been compared to the evil Baroness from the Sound of Music" 

He still looked  confused. "What?"

"Oh come on!  Haven't you seen The Sound of Music?  You know, Maria and the children and the freaking lonely goat herder?  The Baroness fears that the Captain is falling for Maria, so she conspires to send poor Maria back to the nunnery!  Ellen has cast herself as poor Maria and I am the evil Baroness!"

"Ummmm, no, I have never seen that movie."  House, who is the epitome of uber cool, non emotional, manly men, looked utterly confused at my tirade.  "I think I should have listened to you from the start."

"You think????  I rolled my evil Baroness eyes and grabbed his arm.  " Fine!  I am channeling my inner Baroness right this instant and demanding a really fine lunch.  Where are you taking me?"

AS we left I couldn't help feeling  bad for "Maria."  I made House go ahead of me to bring the car around, and as I locked the office, I couldn't help but sadly hum.  "So long, farewell, Aufweidersane, adieu......"

And later that year for Christmas,  House received a little DVD wrapped up in brown paper and tied up with string.  The tag read "To House from the Baroness."    He won't admit he watched it, but I KNOW he did..

3:33 a.m.

3:33
Was it the angel in him or the devil in me?
Halfway to hell or halfway to heaven
Slide past the den
 roll a lucky seven ( a.m. alarm )

Halfway to triple six
pain and pleasure s(he) inflicts
desire and fire
lips and hips
dark to light
her demons, his angels collide.

Halfway to longing for six
the dark and the light
Ask the cards to predict
Both the devil, the angel and six.

Yes......

The Importance of saying yes.....

To possibility
To a new friend you swear you've known all along.
To Pokez Mexican Food-and drinking a coke with SUGAR.
To the next loft that opens up

The significance of shouting yes....

To spur of the moment wild hair trips
To something completely crazy
To that grin you should resist. 

To making HIM grin that you finally said yes.

The necessity of braving yes....

To getting out of bed
To letting go of fear
To finishing that overwhelming project
To the doubting voice inside

The power of sighing yes

To a part of the heart that mourns and misses a treasured dog and a measured man
To mending the hole with joy and jazz and risk and sass.
To knowing no exists.

My Spirit Animals....

My animals.......

It's been a long while since my wise and woolly Spirit Wolf went away, but my girl's loss is fresh.  I eschew taking meds for little bumps in the road of life.   Lucky that one of the most beautiful lessons my Spirit Wolf taught me is the importance of giving voice to painful things as a way of healing.  Ignoring them makes them more powerful

My Spirit Wolf gave me courage to confront, speak out loud and take control.  I miss him as much now as the day he went away, but am so grateful that he came along.

It's been two weeks now and well, I still feel the loss.   It comes at weird times, this sorrow. She was my beautiful girl.  I keep looking for her or imagine I hear her little click click nails on the wood floor.  I miss the little contented sigh she made as she went to sleep each night right next to me.

I met the very kind soul who helped me let Emily go in a field of flowers after taking my beauty dog for one last morning walk and then a nap under our cherished Treesa Tree.  We ate eggs and bacon and pancakes and hash browns.  No commas here.   And signifies how awesome each item was.

Emily was tired, and as Cynthia did the necessary things to make Emily comfortable, I lay down   next to her, letting my tears fall into her soft fur and put my head on her heart.  I felt the last beat of her heart as her light left this world to go shine in the next.

At that moment, I silently asked Emily in my heart  to come back after crossing and let me know she was okay.

Later in the afternoon, I grew frantic when I looked for Emily's collar.  When I adopted her, the foster gave Emily a beautiful purple collar.  She had it her whole life.  As Cynthia prepared to take Emily to be cremated, I slipped her collar off as I wanted to keep it as a precious reminder of her beautiful soul.

I placed a call to ask Cynthia  to look for it and raced back to the meadow of flowers.  I retraced the area and could not find it.  As I sat in the car with tears streaming down my face, Cynthia called to say she did not find the collar.  I was completely devastated and angry at myself for losing such a precious thing.

Earlier, my sister called and reminded me that my mom was the one who talked me into getting Emily.  Earlier that year, I put down my beloved 17 year old dalmatian and prior to that, my beloved Mr. Tweeligers, the brown and white springer.  I truly did not want another dog.  I just didn't want the ache of losing another one.  I was dogless for the first time in my,life.

My mom called me and told me I needed another dog to love and that it was high time I accepted their loss and give another dog a home.  I casually looked at the ESRA sight and fell in love with my perfect Emily.

"Emily is with Mom now.  She'll look after her 'til you see her again."

I started to drive off, resigned to the fact that the collar was gone forever, but my sister's words came back to me.  I put the car in park, ran back to the area again and searched.  After 5 minutes, I started to retreat when I spied a bit of purple in a pile of dirt.  It WAS my girl's collar!  I took it and held it to my heart and cried tears of relief, thankfulness, sadness and awe.

Emily was so perfect in every way.  I loved her petite frame, her show dog beauty and her funny personality.  She will be the last dog I own.  Our bond was so strong.  I cannot even fathom loving another dog as much as I loved her.   But I KNOW she is still with me.

Call me whimsical and foolish, but I know in my heart my girl came back to encourage me to look again and to let me know she was fine and being cared for in another light.  She is my Spirit Animal now.

Stop Counting

"April 30th will be exactly six months.  I thought things would feel better."

 I kept looking back at the calendar. And then looking forward to a precise half year later..

 'That date was the last time."
             

                OR 

 "By this date, I will feel THIS way."

As if my heart would magically be healed by simply marking time.

"Anyone or anything worth loving is worth grieving," he said.

"Stop Counting."

Ever quick to make a joke when things are uncomfortable, I shot a quick response back.

"And start mounting."

We laughed.  Serious discussion averted.

Stop Counting

You can't tell your heart what to feel.
Time isn't precise when it heals.
The calendar merely counts off days
Your heart beats to a different phase
If you keep counting what happened, you'll miss what could happen.

Start Mounting

A defense
An offense
A tire(d) of thinking too much about......
A horse with no name
The stairs
A fabulous piece of art

Count the ways you can mount the rest of your days.

 And ride that bitch in an ocean swell, over a  jump on a fine white horse, in a 77 Ford truck down some bad ass trail.

Owl Be Watching You

So this week, two human encounters with wildlife ended in complete "What THE FUCK!" consternation and dismay.

Zoe lives at one of my buildings.  She's rude, so it doesn't exactly surprise me that she was the culprit in the swallow incident.  My team leader called me to say that Zoe took it upon herself to pry the window screen off the THIRD floor hallway window, take a broom and sweep away a swallow's nest -complete with eggs- crashing to the concrete below.

It seems that Zoe took a nasty dislike to the bird poop she encountered every day as she exited.  Hey, Zoester Monster, how about asking us to clean it, ignore it,walk around it, take a different exit, or clean it yourself and realize in a few short weeks the swallows would move on?

Second incident:  A mama owl had her babies on the balcony of one of the apartments. SO COOL!  Imagine having a private nature show and watching adorable owl babies grow and fledge on your very own private patio!  Who wouldn't love it?

Answer:  This particular resident.  Reason?  "I don't like the way they look at me."

Excuse me?  I get that it probably gets messy and the owl version of a Happy Meal means the toy animal is also the meal, but seriously?  They actually wanted us to get rid of them in any way possible.  So we had to remove an owl and her babies from their known territory or worse, kill them?


Every day is Earth Day.  In spite of our encroachment, creatures adapt and attempt to recreate a niche in whatever way possible as we tear through their original homes in the wild.  Isn't that what we humans do?  We get displaced physically, mentally,  or spiritually (sometimes all at the same time) and we attempt to recreate a niche.   We learn to fly again.  So we should have gratitude and honor wild creatures that wander back to the space we occupy.

And thank you to Bird Rescue of South Bay for the owl intervention.

 Zoe got a letter warning her that swallows in California are protected and those who cannot overlook bird poop and feel it necessary to harm them face a fine of $500- $3,000.  She also gets the stink eye from the animal lovers at the building.

And Zoe?  May the bluebird of happiness visit your balcony every day.  And deposit love bombs that find their way to you heart.  Or your eye.

Running Free In Her Dreams

Twice in the past week or so, Emily has been dreaming with her little paws twitching as she runs in her doggy REM.  She is deaf now, so her vocalizations ceased during the last few months.

So sweet to hear her little puppy yips and barks while she gambols along in her dreams.  She woke me this week while I cuddled her in my arms.  And I am so grateful for these bittersweet gifts.  I smiled and cried at the same time.

So much love this girl has been........

She's A Keeper

"She's Weird."

"She's very talkative."

"She was late twice."

"She's too friendly with the residents."

"She is scattered."

And so it went....   We had a temp come to work at my two senior communities.   My usually affable, yet very rule bound and serious Assistant, complained repeatedly.  Sam went on and on.

Crazy busy with a new property,  I did not have a chance to meet "Grossy Josie" (his term), but I kept  hearing about her from his point of view.  While the Property Manager vacationed, the criticism mounted.

In the meantime, I hired a very professional woman with experience to permanently fill the position.  She had " the look."  She wore conservative clothes, came beautifully packaged with a perfect coiffure and had real estate experience.   Greta was hired to fill the role.

I finally met Josie on Greta's first day.  Definitely not your average little bear, but I liked her sweet spirit, her can do attitude and the unquestionable keen intelligence emanating from her gaze.

I decided to keep Josie for a few days while he trained Greta since my Property Manager still had a few days of vacation left, much to Sam's chagrin.  He practically danced a jig when Josie took a long lunch and didn't exactly return on time.

"Pleeeeeeze I'd rather work by myself than have her around."

I finally gave in and called to cancel with the temp agency.  Perhaps Josie was just too out there.  Plus, I was just way too busy to fight the battle.  I tend to look for agendas and give new people the benefit of the doubt before I pull the trigger.  From experience, I know that brand new employees can be exposed to unfair pack mentality and tribalism from long term employees.

Monday, perfectly perfunctory Greta walked off the job when she encountered Flo with advancing Alzheimer's, Alveah the angry resident and Dale our resident schizophrenic.

Upon her return, I met with sweet Jane, the Property Manager.

"Well, she's eccentric for sure.  And I need to counsel her on keeping a professional distance from the residents and on timely arrival, BUT do you know what she did last week?  We had a swarm of bees and the residents were FREAKING out.  I told them the bees would go away in a day or two, but they were frantic with worry and insisted the bees be exterminated.

"And Josie?  Well, she came after hours that evening dressed in her beekeeper's suit and collected them to come and live on her land in Vista."

So, Josie, welcome back!  I hope you work out.  I learned a lesson this week in taking time, even when I am extremely busy, to listen to my heart and go with my instinct.

"Your Conscience Will Speak To Her Soul."

Knowing when to let go of my Emily girl has been a roller coaster of emotion.

I called the vet and chose to meet her at a beautiful spot surrounded by wild flowers and nature this Sunday.

Only I couldn't do it.  Emsy rebounded a little this week and got all excited for steak in her food.

Sigh.....  So I called it off.  It's such an emotional and final decision.  Hard to know if I'm second guessing or giving her more quality time.

Cynthia the vet told me the following:

"You will know when it is time.  It will be in her eyes.  Your conscience will speak with her soul."

I pray that she is right.  And selfishly, that I have a little more time.

Moon In A Different Light

I love celestial events.
I cherish nature's light show in the comets.
I've taken meteor showers in the cold desert at 3 a.m.
The Sisters of the Seven Stars are my companions

And most of the time, my little shadow has taken in these heavenly sights along with her mama.
Trips to the back country in cold winter months, cuddles in blankets while we awaited arrival.
She loved these trips.

My favorite is the moon.

His light means so much.
I looked to the moon in complete love once.
I still smile when he follows me in my 4 a.m. drive to work.

His yellow glow in Autumn enthralls.
His crescent is most magnificent.
I take solace in him right now because he is a constant.

And this morning, the sun, and the earth and our beloved Mr Moon gave us a spectacular show.
And I am most grateful for such a beautiful gift......

My girl is old and fragile.   She's tired.  So this week, after spoiling her with yummy dog meals of hamburgers and all things forbidden, we will enjoy hours cuddled beneath the waning full moon and cherish the light and our time together.  It will be a little more dear to me this time.

She is a most beautiful lunar companion.  I could not have asked for more.

Mr G.

Mr G----

You are special.

http://www.fanforlife.org

You came as the dreaded outsider into a small little circle of people and made us explore a bigger world.

You took a group of stubborn, high octane personalities and melded us into a team.

You didn't accept excuses and taught us to work smarter, not harder.

You taught me to focus, accepted my goofy free spirit and helped me be a better Regional.

You taught me to delegate and to hold my people accountable.

Maybe a few times, especially at first, I got pretty sassy with you.  You never held a grudge.

The things you did to champion our teams were AMAZING!

You instituted so many great programs and tools for us to help our teams grow.

You taught me to take care of the people on my team by working hard and getting them the things they need to be successful.

On personal time:

"Time off is important.  Family is important.  If you have the time, TAKE it!"

On Giving Direction:

"Okay, this is what you need to work on.  That's it!  That's all you need to say.  Now, if it happens again, that's a DIFFERENT conversation."

The Tim G Way:

Get the Point Across, straight between the eyes, no sugar coating.

Kind, strong willed and full of character.

Laughing is good.

Mistakes are a learning opportunity!

Share knowledge.

Your Character:

A kidney transplant a few years ago and then you were right back with us, ready to grow.
(http://www.fanforlife.org)

Your Christmas gift to us was an in kind gift to a worthy charity in our name.

Patient with us while we we grudgingly accepted your guidance.

Lunch with you was an hour of soaking in a lifetime of knowledge.

You were there for each one of us when we had something going on in our family life.

Today, you announced to our teams that you were retiring.  We've known it for a few weeks.  And one by one, with no prompting from us, our teams rose and gave you a 5 minute standing O.

Because, Mr. G, YOU are special.

See What I Sea

Lover of Leaving......

Lover of Leaving
The one guarantee was
Leaving
I won't stay behind
Running the other way
As fast as I can
Why does your ghost insist on coming along?

Detachment

Universe, I see your message.

What is it you're trying to tell?
(Am I high from the plastic mat smell?)

This word kept coming up all week:

On the Yoga mat with so many plastic fumes, I ended up making it an outdoor rug,

(Deepak, Are you AWARE that caustic yoga mats spewing room clearing off-gas NOT from any human ass are sold in your name?)

In a movie (Wild)

In writing. (forms at work, a book I'm reading)

Okay, Universe.  Fuck, I'll listen.  Wait, you want me to acknowledge how this word applies right now.  It means so many things.  You just want me to go ahead and say it out loud.

Detachment~ Good/bad/indifferent.

Indifferent-  detached, easily dispatched with no feeling.

Ouch, that hurt(s).
Almost as much as smelling the freaking yoga mat

Ah, hell.  If ya can't joke at a time like this, then you might as well join a monetary monastery that charges you scads of money for a week of silence and a slice of moldy bread once a day.

Bad- Eeeeek!  I am NOT loving the detachment from, well, EVERYTHING.  It does; however, give me so much empathy for people who go through this organically.  Mine is situational.  I know that. Time is supposed to make this feeling, or lack thereof, evaporate like horse pee on a trail in 90 degree heat.  TallyHO, let's go.  But I will forever be grateful and hopeful for continued love, education, healing and understanding of all who go through this.

Good- Okay, Deepak with the smelly mat.  Detachment means letting go.  Ironically,  I have to let go of the one person who helped me let go of some really big things.  (WHY do I suddenly hear the sound of thousands of little girls singing in a slightly off key chorus?). I think ya may need to hit Disney and Elsa up for stealing your gig.  But it's not your gig.  Probably not your mat either.

Deepak, Disney and doormat formerly known as StankRug are only acknowledging truth that has existed since time began.  It's the hardest lesson we will ever learn and experience.    We let go of thousands of things in our lives.  Some are more painful and difficult than others...

Detachment, you are scary.  I am fearful of this journey.  But I acknowledged you today.  That is the first step.

I smell ya, Universe.

A Love Letter, Acceptance, Surrender and Wetsuits

2015 is upon us.  So many changes already.  I'll be honest.  This year starts with a huge challenge of accepting loss. Even I am amazed at the depth of emotion this causes..  Man, I LOVED hard.  And was lucky to do so. It was once in a lifetime and so life changing. It's hard to lose your hero.

Thank you, my friend.  You listened without judgement and helped me face some really difficult things.  Romantic love is easy to lose. Profound friend love is a different story altogether.  I will miss, adore and love you always. You were a wonderful light.

You were an unexpected, random, impossible, improbable surprise.  The Gypsy was right.   I had to go there.

I am hopeful time passes quickly on the swim back to happy- go- lucky, carefree and spirited.  I want to write funny things again.  I want to make people laugh.  It's good for the soul to create mirth.  It feels like home.

They say to keep busy.  I hope to finish my script, FINALLY make the move I need to make and buy a house.  I plan to take a surf trip to Costa Rica, visit Cuba and get up to Monterrey Bay and visit Cannery Row.  I love John Steinbeck.  I've never been up that far. This seems like a good time to go.

Work is about to get crazy busy with two huge challenges involving a luxury building built in a challenging area and a building that needs to be turned around.  So busy, busy, busy is the key here, I guess.  It's the quiet moments that are hard.  That's when I start thinking and missing.

When you walked away.  I was so scared to surrender to the wave.  I still am!  It's pretty daunting, this wave.  I'm afraid of the tumbling, twisting wave of grief I'm going through.  But acceptance is part of this process.  Plus I fear I have reached my snot and tissue quota for the next 5 years.  So I better start swimming :)

Surrender.....

Well, surrender wearing a bitchin' wetsuit.  No reason NOT to be fashion forward.  Yee to the FUCKING haw for that, my love!  You made that happen.  That alone was worth the price of admission. I thank you for this every day.  Forever........