Piano Mover Needed

I have this piano, see, and it needs to be moved from Kingston to Bellingham. It is the last detail of my divorce, which is final today. I can't believe how long it has taken. If you think it is a quick process, think again. Well, maybe it isn't too bad if you have an annulment or if you've been married a short time and have not assets together or children, and not many memories. Memories are big things to haul around, as are pianos. If you know a piano mover, send them my way.

So this morning I was thinking of a acronym that would remind me of my focus these new days of single life. It is GLAD--which means Giving, Loving, Acting on my heart's desires, and Devotion. These are the things that will change my life--gosh, in a bad marriage, one just contracts, hurts, becomes bitter and withholding. Bad news. Now, things feel open, I have all possibility available to me. And rest, which isn't in the acronym, but can be one of my heart's desires, is very much needed.

Okay, today, blustery, the leaves are blowing around. If I were you, I'd stay in. Make tea, read a good gardening book. I like the ones on gardening ideas, I'm always ready for more ideas. Or how about read about new plants you'd like to try. Surf the web for gardening sites. Have some down time. Watch a movie. Meditate.

Okay, grandbaby is coming.
Love you all to pieces, Flower

The Letter

At last I got the letter saying my garden is too weedy and to clean it up. So I will, I have it scheduled for Friday. I used to worry that I wasn't doing a good enough job, but now I know I'm not. It's the divorce, see--what can I say. I have too many things on my plate, quit claims, new insurance, grief. Getting divorced is practically a full time job. So, I'll weed with Brenda Friday. Asking for help is hard, but single women must.

And now, we had a frosty night. Perhaps not immediately, but around, and even skiffs of snow. Winter coming already. That is too much to take. Okay then, if you want to kill a large area of grass or weeds, cover it with a tarp. It takes a few days, but it will work fine. Also, turn over the grass, the it will compost right there. Grass has very deep roots, so it will come up again, that is it's nature. But persevere.

Okay, I'm on a schedule, so gotta run. More later.
Flower

Cheating

I downloaded the book from Oprah's website about Why Men Cheat, although I haven't read it yet. Has anyone else? I heard there was fallout from the show, the jest of it all being that men don't get enough attention to at home, and then they cheat. The women in the audience said they didn't always get sex either, and they didn't cheat. Well, some women do cheat--but generally speaking, they didn't. My husband was getting what he wanted but he just wanted something different. He felt we were in a rut.

I'm very comfortable with the same, with variation within the same, but I derive comfort from knowing what to expect, from having routine, from waking up next to the same person year after year. Unfortunately the last part of my marriage became a roommate situation, and then under the guise of a marriage sabbatical, separation. Now divorce. Everyday there are periods of time when my heart hurts like it's been tromped on by a herd of buffalo. It is unfathomable to me that the heart can hurt this badly. After all, it is just emotion creating this pain. Does emotion come from muscle, the brain, the emotional body—whatever it is, it is potent.

I learned in a class explaining emotional well-being and difficult emotions, that there is more information going from the heart to the brain than from the brain to the heart. This is an important fact that little of us know. As my husband and came closer to the end, the more he accelerated leaving behind his hunt by finding a new honey. And the more I tried to hold onto him, the more he shut me out. I realize he was dealing with his pain in his own way—finding a new honey was a solution, as valid as any, I guess. I feel sorry for her, however, because he couldn't possibly be finished with the grief--at least from my point of view that would be true.

Well, this isn't supposed to be about me, it is supposed to be about the garden. The garden—ah blighted tomatoes. Yes, it is rainging. I just don't have the stamina right now to go at it, build little tomato houses, keep things going well in to the winter. But I may have a burst of energy soon, who knows. I may get to that kale planted instead of pining away, my heart mending bit by bit. I have a meeting this morning, so have to get going. More later about the saga of the divorcee.

Flowering Flower

PS At the Unitarian service this morning the minister spoke about the healing properties of music. This I have forgotten, so a solution, a medicine for the ailing heart. I will take it for however long it takes. That and my hands digging in soil.

Mt. Lake

On Orcas Island there is a mountain that overlooks the sound and the other San Juan Islands. I haven't been to the top of the mountian in over 20 years. I believe the last time I was there I was with my ex. Now I'm contemplating driving up there and leaving something behind, a act of completion of my marriage. I honeymoon was on this island. I have no idea what the symbol would be--something representing the marriage, the growth, the pain, the learning.

Now I'm in town at the Sunflower Cafe eating crab cakes. I'm contemplating gardens, since there is such a pretty one outside this cafe. Mine isn't doing well; it needs kind tending as I do. The garden here in Eastsound has no sunflowers, however, it does have lovely yellow roses. A rose is a symbol for love. I could take a rose up to the mountain top.

I find it interesting how things come around. How dates jive, how coincidences seem to say, this is a correct move. In divorce, there is a lot of hurt. I was hoping the divorce wouldn't be so painful, that there could be a concern for each other even in the unraveling of the institution. That hasn't happened. There has been more pain caused by ongoing attacks--all because of grave hurt, I'm imagining.

Here at the Orcas Writer's Festival, Sam Green, the Washington Poet Laurate read a love poem for his wife. I've heard it before and hope that some day I will be loved and love like that. So my wish is for great love to be had by everyone, and the hope that all will experience it once in a lifetime.

Flower

Fall Cleaning

It is raining. It rained all night. There is something very pleasant about the sound of rain. It's sooths me in some ways, in other ways, when the fall rains start in the PNW, it usually means the end of summer. Yesterday at the farmer's market, there was an abundance of great tomatoes, many varieties. A delicious fresh smell in the air—tomatoes, berries, flowers. As I perused the tables of zucchini and greens and peppers, the sky grew very dark a nervous flickered through the venders. Finally rain broke loose and everyone scrambled. It was fun and wet. I had an umbrella with me, as I could see the handwriting...

This is a time of abundance, and at the same time, it is a time of returning to nothingness. I'm trying meditation with a mindfulness group—my intro being last night. I think it might help me get through the end piece of this divorce. My friend was asking me what the etymology of divorce is. This is what I found on Online Etymology Dictionary : 1377, from O.Fr. divorce, from L. divortium "separation, dissolution of marriage," from divertere "to separate, leave one's husband, turn aside" (see divert).

Turn aside, to divert. I think I was writing in my journal about water being blocked from a neighbor's property—it was in a movie. He was being forced off his land. That's the feeling I've been left with, although I think I'd say the love has been diverted—surely there will be another recipient for his love and my house, which I'll finish cleaning out next week. All is well that ends well, the saying goes. I'm trying to have resolution here, but he thinks I'm trying to keep him from being happy. That's interesting, because I think resolution will make us far happier in the long run.

What to do with the garden tools. I could bring them to the shed at the community garden. Mark them, so later I'll have them if I move into a little house. Or I could just buy new ones. There is nothing like a fresh rake.
Cheers,
Flower

Two Weddings and a Divorce

Is this some sort of joke, to watch my sister lovingly attend to the wedding flowers for the bride and groom to be married in Duncan Gardens? And then end delivering the flowers with her, seeing the bride and groom's "first look" and being moved to tears. And now, back home in B'ham and doing my friend's hair for her wedding this afternoon. And to put the chocolate icing on the cake, my divorce was filed in the courts on the day before the anniversary of my marriage. Well, perhaps it is all a joke. Perhaps that's what life is, one big joke that we take personally, react to in ways that aren't healthful, get bent out of shape about, as my dad always says. Ahhhh, carry on with a loving heart.

It is hot today in Bellingham--so hot people are complaining. Do you remember all the complaining the other way--when it was too cold, when the garden was sitting there shivering? Well, I suppose when I see my garden today, it will be a garden of Eden. Maybe there will be a miniture bride and groom winding there way through the towering pigweed. Maybe I'll have some zucchini to eat and a ripe tomatoe. Maybe I can thin the beets because they will be three inches tall.

Later: My garden is very weedy--and I do have zucchini and a couple of ripe tomatoes. The beans are still scrawny--probably will give up on them. But I'm getting a bit to eat: spinach and broccoli raab. Tomatoes and zucchini, not bad for such poor soil. I'll amend this fall--promise.

The picture is of the formal gardens where the Spokane wedding was held. Many people marry there by the fountain in Ducan Gardens. My friend got married at the Roeder House here in Bellingham. It was a lovely wedding and who could have asked for better weather? Nice.

I believe in marriage. I believe in love--I'm on a mission now to find my own. That was my turn around. Instead of pineing away for something that didn't happen, just make a goal to have the thing I want--a loving partner. One who likes to weed--ha!

Later,

Flower (aka Fancy)

Back to Beets

If you have a slug of beets, why not can them or just mix cooked beets with sugar and vinegar and viola, you'll have a pretty tasty condiment for your salads. I used to can beets with sweet brine in a water bath; pickled beets they were called. We loved to eat the bright red slices plain or with salads. Here is a simple recipe from The Vegetarian Lunchbasket to try called Vinegared Beets": 3 cups diced cooked beets, 1 cup reserved beet cooking liquid, 1/4 cup cider vinegar. In a bowl, combine all ingredients. Marinate overnight.

Ugh! Marinate, marry-inate--yes I signed. Then I didn't sleep all night, feeling that great pressure on the chest that I can only liken to the ball and chain dropping to the ribcage after having returned the key to hubby. Sheez! But like everyone says, grief will have its way with you and then it will suddenly come to an end. And they say, take good care of yourself--so this morning I ate a chocolate doughnut and a cup of Starbucks coffee. That's caring, right? Well, probably there could have been better choices--but in a crisis, food does become a comfort.

You can also make a "Three-to-Five Bean Salad with a mix of honey, tamari, veg. oil, red wine vinegar and chickpeas, green beans from the garden, lima beans (also from the garden, and perhaps kidney and wax beans. A man gave me a sack of homegrown pinto beans when I lived in Yakima. They were the best beans I'd ever eaten. Maybe because he'd grown them, they hadn't dried as long as the beans we get in the store. They had more flavor than usual.

My bean plants have yellow leaves. Again I'm blaming the soil, but also, could have something to do with erratic watering. Sigh! Told you I'm a bad gardener.

Cheers!