Acrostic

Yesterday I wrote that I'd made up an acronym, but I had the wrong word. Although GLAD is an acronym, but not like USA. An anagram for divorce might be Cover ID, so to get into Singledom you have to have all the signed and sealed papers. Now an acrostic is when the first letter of a word represents something: GLAD = Giving, Loving, Acting on Intuition, Devotion. Now this pretty much covers what I'm after. Except I could also use Doing Art, Eating Well and Resting Well, which would be GLADDER—Nancy Pagh suggested this--which could be my word for the year. The dictionary describes it this way: feeling joy or pleasure; delighted; pleased: glad about the good news; glad that you are here. Which I like, so I could be glad to be here and feeling the joy while giving, loving, acting on my intuition, devotional practice, doing art, eating well, and resting well. This seems to be a good singledom decree. I'm on board with my Cover ID: Single

Well, I feel celebrated. Nancy Pagh, Brenda Miller, Katie Humes, Barb Crowley, and me, Nancy Canyon—yes this is my legal name now, all had great food and wine at the Hearth Fire last night. (The picture was taken at North Cascade Institute--That's me on the left, Katie above, Brenda on the right) Katie gave me a bag with singledom items including a three minute timer for pining over my lost marriage, a blue bird of happiness, and a post card of a mean looking owl to scare off everything bad. Brenda gave me chocolate. I gave myself a silver necklace, an open circle connected by a silver chain to a solid circle with the word PEACE stamped on it. One slips through the other to connect it around the neck. It is my singledom gift to myself. The circle representing wholeness.

Okay, did I tell you about AMAG, the ascended masters who said I'm here to learn about unconditional love. I knew this when I met B, only I was young then, so I only called it love. Now I know about conditional love, and it feels bad, let me tell you. They said I could continue to love unconditionally, since trying not to love is what hurts so badly. So here I am open hearted, loving him despite everything that has gone down. I told him that so many times as we came apart.

Okay, it is blowing like gangbusters out there, whistling around the condo. There will be no mulching and winterizing today—I'm such a baby. I'm doing my writing instead.

Gladder,

FLower

Tide Turning

Tomorrow is my first day of singledom--that is, it is the final day of the divorce. The light at the end of the tunnel. When you get divorced in Washington, there is a 90 day waiting period after one files. There are many things that can happen in 90 days. Some folks decide to stay married. Nothing happened for me, well one little thing that could have become a bigger thing--he didn't like the agreement--but that quickly went by the wayside. Why? Because a contested divorce is way more expensive than an non-contested divorce.

Now is a time for rest and recovery. And gardening. Bring in the cold sensitive plants. A lovely row of plants by a sunny window, what could be better. And be sure to mulch cold-sensitive plants that stay out doors. Roses for one, and the rhody plant. If you have root vegetables you want to winter over, cover the rows with leaves. If you are planting a cover crop, it would be a good time to do that.

Oh, and put in your garlic now. There are so many varieties. Try some new ones. I really love elephant garlic.

Well, wish me a good night sleep. It's hard to sleep during highly charged times--divorce being one of them. Now it should return to me.

Happy happy! Flower

Le Jardin

Happy in my skin—an old post title. This one, not so happy in my skin—and why would that be? I have everything I need. I am abundant and lucky, yet unhappy. Is it all in my head, this loneliness?

Le Jardin—garden of Eden. I was raised Christian, learning of the verdant garden where Adam and Eve first tasted that fruit of knowledge. Is it only our thinking minds that make us miserable? Now that I have decree, I feel more heartbroken than ever. I have grief and my many things: money, a home, but no person to share them with. What is the point? To me, this isn't a lush garden.

Yesterday I went to the garden to water. (We've had several hot days—the gelato store was hopping yesterday, let me tell you.) I hoed and watered and wished for my old life back, a life where I could be sitting on the beach, pondering the meaning of everything. Instead I was nursing a headache, watering in the baking sun, and trying to realize the meaning of being divorced, to not have someone to bicker with about the lack of understanding or the lack of love I'm receiving. Where does this garden of Eden begin? Inside I suppose.

Last night I watched a move, The Contest Winner. In this moving the husband, a raving alcoholic, kept running his family of ten children into the ground by drinking up the resources to purchase food and pay for a roof over their head. The wife kept winning jingle contests: prize money, & stuff. Up until the end the mother/wife kept smiling, for the most part anyway, smiling and loving everyone—including her drunken husband. Perhaps all happiness is is smiling despite of adversity.

Yesterday I set up my garden room. Today I'll fill the pot with soil and plant carrot seed. I'll let you know how well growing carrots in a pot works. Well, I think.

Happy gardening,
Flower