Lack is a word that ‘new agey’ people throw around a lot.  ‘new agey’ people is a term I throw around a fair amount and i completely recognize its stupidity, in the face of the tremendous variety of people out there.  mostly what i mean is people who are interested in more non-traditional ways of thinking about the body and the psyche.

my mother thinks the tarot is most likely evil.  She is NOT new agey.   Can you identify the definition in that negative?

anyhow. Lack.

If you focus on what you don’t have.. or spend your fears on what you might lose.. or do all the work you do to KEEP lack away… its a part of your life… and investigating it is worth a damn. or a dollar.

when i feel myself filling with resentment, i tend to spend.  i do. i spend money, i spend time… i throw it around like budgets and constraints are a fantasy… like dwarves… or magic swords… fun in books but not ‘real’ to me.

this time around?  i found the greatest abundance in giving away.  i gave money to two fundraisers for families in need.  i found it thrilling to think i could give and it would help relieve at least one stress in their lives as they move through trama. these were small amounts, but i could swing it, and there was legit NEED. 

i signed up for an infusion of essential oils from my friend gina garris… she’s magic. and i spent money! and i felt instantly that i was already wealthier… weird but true.  they haven’t arrived yet but even the thinking was an enriching experience. . .

when you are required to think about what you really need, and you include all the different parts of you: the mom of an overly emotional kid, the sexual creature, the artist, the dreamer, the worrier… all those parts need to be honored and cared for… and then you feel that someone is going to do that?  (gina’s oils are… and I am… ME..)  Its pretty kickass.

it feels fertile. rich loam, vibrant soil.  you get me?

its february.  normally we’d be holding onto our sanity about spring… but this year the weather has significantly altered and it seems like spring could be any minute now.  usually at this time we are clinging to faith.  faith that beneath the soil is percolation, potential, growth… that while all is frozen, the green and the lush are lying in wait for us…

well, its a thing for me anyways.  (laughing)  It really is. I hope you have that too. that faith.  it feels pretty damn luxurious in the face of what we might think we lack.  faith beneath the slush and the chill.


Oxalis... the growth beneath the freeze... UnwifedMotherExpletive


another thing i did was move heaven and high water. (what? what does that mean? ) it supposed to be hell? … to spend time with real live people this weekend, which meant asking my mom to babysit on a weekend i ‘had the kids’… i’ve never, ever done that before, in all these almost 3-4 years of separation. they’ve never had a babysitter when they’ve been with me, and i’ve never gone out without them. and i did. and it was worth it.

and let me just tell you, there were a lot of people involved… 2 sports games and a surprise third. and three different sets of people helped manage the driving so i could go away and have a cup of tea in a mug that i drank while warm. with real. live.people. living. not online.

have i ever told you all how hermit-like i am? hm.

but it was another way to SPEND in order to nourish. and i’m all in . its not all money, but it is all enriching, and i’m all for it right now.


School ‘vacation’. Dickish.

so the kids went with their dad for a four day skiing trip. its school break. they left school a day and a half early, i think to accomodate the friend they were going with who is from another state and parochial school. anyhow. whoosh. what an adventure, so thrilling… all 3 now proficient and unafraid of skiis, hills and lifts.

for those of you, like me, who did not grow up near mountains, skiing isn’t a way of life. its a gargantuanly expensive up and down repetition that has a whole lot of class issues tied up in it.  Never you fear, this is a white girl who is noticing stratifications in white society.  I’m not sure theres any other color on the mountains, really.  tell me if i’m wrong.

christmas cold height high
Photo by PhotoMIX Ltd. on

i’m glad my kids got the opportunity. I’m confused about money and can’t tell which are my deep-seated issues from childhood, which are my issues from money and divorce and which are just white girl who doesn’t-get-to-go issues.

all very white. and all very dickish.  maybe on my part, maybe on the part of skiiers.  i can’t tell.

it IS fun, i know it. and i went once maybe when i was a kid with my dad, and once or twice with my kids when they were fewer… its fun, i get it. exhilarating.  if i lived closer, it might be a thing i do.   but probably not.


they arrive home and within a half hour i literally have an 11 year old in tears because i am not taking him to a hotel overnight.  and because vacation is so boring, and i am a liar.  30 minutes after a four day skiing trip.



let them eat the dustbunnies i say. welcome to the home of boring rules and being bored and staying home and making beds and closing chickencoops and having a bedtime and no screens before school and all that joy.  its fun for me too.  believe it.

and when you are old, you will remember skiing and you will remember laughing with your mom and her face when you told her you almost gave up but didn’t and then there was all that dancing in the kitchen and the laughing and the music and the yelling and the hugging.  all of it.  you will remember all of it.  and it won’t feel boring.

i promise.


Ads on the blog. . .

I just want you to know that I am 90 cents closer to financial independence because of the ads here on the blog.  I am so happy that I am bespoiling the words and colorscheme with the design and flash of an advertisement meant to manipulate you into feeling you need something.  you probably don’t need anything. really. you are a whole.

i need spatulas. seriously. both were broken in an attempt to ‘not’ call AAA because of keys locked in a car.  wasn’t even my car, but it was my driveway.

how much you want to bet that kitchenware starts to show up the ads?  really?  let me know if it does…

the ninety cents comes from people clicking on the ads.  evidently i don’t get paid for my space until the amount reaches 100 dollahs.  So, looks like I am going to keep my day job a little bit longer.

also, want to let you know that this week is kids vacation week, so i might not be here much, unless its a wild array of cuss words designed to throw the ad people into conniption.

its snowing here, just a teeny tiny bit, and i want it to be so SO much more.  I want to run the woodfire, and have the kids home, and make hot chocolate, and i haven’t had the opportunity all winter because fuck, global warming has melted the freaking ice caps and the weather is unstable.

i can’t believe we are actually living in it.

so, in summation

  • click on an ad but assess if you are needing or wanting or being manipulated.
  • Writers need spatulas.

spatulas, spatulas, spatulas…

shallow focus photography of assorted kitchen tool
Photo by on


Christmas, and the wind howls…

so, there are these things.

  1. everyone should get divorced. everyone. because during the time that the former-spouse has the kids, you do not. so what i get is three full days before christmas in which i actually roll around in christmas spirit.  i might bake cookies, i might wrap something. I danced in the kitchen. i reveled. in the spirit of sparkle and gifting of greens, and all of it. i even went out to a store on christmas eve, to buy myself a present.  god bless marshall’s. i don’t think i’ve ever been into a store on christmas eve and i was there really early, and i was so happy to see that the employees were mostly giddy and laughing, and not beleagured.
  2. don’t get divorced because i say so.  really.
  3. but maybe you could shake things up and send them to your folks before the holiday, to give yourself your own merry. if you have folks, if you like merry.
  4. i just came downstairs after a long bath, ready to order pizza for dinner because i’ve been ill, and i’m ready for bed.  Its 1:23 in the afternoon.   this was both, a funny moment and a sad one.  the kids have been on screens for the entire day, and made their own lunches while i pointed weakly from the chair. barely.
  5. my mom dropped off gatorades because the 6 year old and i were not keeping down any water and i was concerned about other things… 6 year old has now fully recovered and even ate chicken nuggets.  that is frankly disgusting and i’m aware of the possibility of demonic possession.
  6. i am not recovered. but i’m typing, i’m looking out the window.  i’m so glad Christmas is over.  Its just too much for my kids.  Its all meerrrgh.  too many inflated expectations and disappointed faces. its insane.


do you like it? Christmas, I mean. If you do christmas? (though i’ve heard hannukah has its own challenges… and lasts 8 freaking days….) i like it, but only for my rolling around in glitter experience, not as an experience i have with kids. 1227181017a I’m not sure its good for them, and I’m sort of tired of doing it to them.

i’m not sure the ‘spirit of Christmas’ means someone should be distraught because they are just overstimulated.

there’s something of a feeling of being trapped by the expectations, as a parent… and i’d like to figure something out to change it up a bit, maybe give them a few more options as they move out into the world.

hm. we’ll see. i’ve got a little time.



Holiday, handwriting…

Today one of my jobs is paying me to do all the company holiday cards.  they are red and green and lovely, but with lots of gold and seasonally Northern Hemisphere holiday animals, think otters, polar bears, orca, swan.  they are really lovely, really. and i’m getting my groove on in penmanship. all i’m doing is addressing and signing, really, and its still so lovely.  my kids haven’t been taught cursive writing in school and its a sadness for me, though they are learning signatures from their dad and I , they’ll never know the great satisfaction of a loop. One of the names I just had to write was Mazzella. Now, thats a name to bring fantastic satisfaction to a hand-writer.  OOh, man, double z’s and double l’s?

1211181035i love the back and forth, the curve and return of an ‘c’, the curve and return… ah, metaphors, you never fail me.


we have heat today, all the kids are in school, at least, at this moment.  I’m finally able to look at some of the work I should have been doing during plumbing issues and pinkeye. there’s a healthy amount.

and in the background, i am trying to figure out larger meanings… i look chill but the number of health/stress connections is sad… and… the number of large ticket items that i’ve bumped into around my car and the house and such are pretty substantial.  what does it mean? what do I THINK it means? Am I believing I need to sell this house? that THAT is the practical step forward? And then I look around and fall in love again… Am I grounding down to settle in for a winter with a house that is all fixed up and safe for me and my kids?  AM i learning that money is just something I need to stop thinking about, because things are managed somehow?  (i live in a fairly frugal way, most of the time, so thats my baseline) but with family and a single credit card and alimony and child support and a wee bit of job money, i have swung this season of giant expense, and christmas is not even here yet, but i have decided already that whatever i have at this point right now, is what will be.  thats it. no more.

thats cool, thats right. the kids have more than enough. no one will be crying on christmas. and if they do, that is not a problem of mine.

and what about love? Am i finding that I am ready to begin looking for something more than sex? Don’t fucking tell anybody, but its a glimmer right now. just a fleck of light really.

I was just glancingly invited to my kids birthday party last weekend.  i had asked, but gotten no response.  my unbelievably crafty birthday boy begged me by phone to come, in front of his dad.  his dad was essentially forced into a ‘if you love me, mom has to come’ situation.   I was able to swoop into the place, see the set up, get the big hugs and the laughs and swoop out all with my emotions completely intact.

seriously, it was no big thing.

i can’t even believe it was me that typed that.  So much has changed with time. SO much.

swoop. and loop.


arms raised to the magnificence.