Forty Years Later

A Pretty Nice Day

Katy and me throwing out reindeer food on C.Eve.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!

...although I imagine most people with more extended families aren't going to be reading blogs on Christmas Day. I'm waiting on the prime rib to cook and the potatoes to boil, etc. so it seemed like a very good idea to write a quick little post (if that is possible for me). 

It's been a lovely day: a reasonable wake-up time, great Santa bounty for Katy, good gifts for Max and me, Dean Martin crooning out Christmas songs all morning.  Max bought Dean last night.  All the Christmas music left with FH and his computer (we all use i-tunes and the computer rather than cd's though we listen to it through the big speakers). We've always listened to Christmas music by country singers, but it was clear this year that Max wanted to begin a new tradition and heck, I was up for it.  After several decades the same music had gotten a little stale and it was too FH.

I think Max has had a few sad and bittersweet moments.  On the one hand, as I've said before there is just NO anxiety, crankiness, and negativity in the house like when FH was here, but on the other hand, the family structure must seem to be missing one important person to him after all those years.  His dad hasn't called him or emailed him and it hurts even though he acts like it doesn't.  With the exception of contacting Katy occasionally, FH has pretty much emotionally deserted the family.  How does a man do that?  Especially when he has almost a whole entire life invested with that family.  I haven't spoken to him in over four months and it is the same for Max.  sigh   Well, that's negative stuff to think about right there and that just isn't how I'm feeling now.  

Last night was different but pleasant. After Katy went to bed wired and couldn't get to sleep for hours, and was crying because Santa won't come if I'm not asleep but I CAN'T GO TO SLEEP!!!  Max and I listened to music and burned CD's for each other so we could share and later I wrote some comments on blogs that I hadn't visited this week to say Merry Merry! But, around 12:15 pm (she's still not asleep) I received a wrong number call...three times.  On the third time I joked around with the woman calling.

Well, that set off an amazing and interestsing hour of conversation.  She was in northern Colorado visiting her kids.  She is 70 years old.  Janet was trying to call her boyfriend here in my town but she kept dialing my number instead, which by the way isn't even similar to his.  So we got to talking and of course we were talking men because that's what she had on her mind.  She said her psychologist out in Pennsylvania has told her she's obsessed with this guy who won't ask her to marry him, nor will he ask her to live with him after eight years of dating.  The doctor wants her to move on, but there she was furtively calling him at midnight and feeling guilty as hell. To me it seems that romance at 70  might should  be revered whatever its nature but as she talked more I realized that from her doctor's point of view it is a matter of self respect.  She said sex with this man is FABULOUS, hence some of the obsession.  (Isn't that wonderful though?  Fabulous sex at 70! It's something to look forward to, for sure.)  Anyway, after 1:20 when we decided to get off the phone, we exchanged only first names and phone numbers.  I would have done emails because I could tell she liked getting things off her chest with me, but she doesn't do email.  I said Well, it's after one, are you going to call John now? and she said she wasn't.  It's too late.  I think I was meant to call you instead so I would talk too long and not call him.  I'm leaving tomorrow.  I won't call now. We agreed it was all destiny and hung up.  It was just fascinating to me.

Well....gotta go make those decadent mashed potatoes...Linda's recipe of course.  She's got all the best recipes.

So, if anyone is reading this, Merry! 

 Can you believe it is finally over!

My Big Adventure

Squirt

I've been quite remiss in writing my blog!  That's not a good way to run a blog; all the blog advice you read tells you that.  I thought I'd better get to it, though, because I don't want anyone to think I haven't written because I'm blue.  I'm not blue.  Thank goodness!  And, I have to worry now about whether any of my beloved readers still remember me!  While I have been relatively busy, my not writing is mainly because my writing brain has been having a fallow period.  Too much Christmas spirit.

I have done a fun thing or two lately, though.  Remember when I wrote that I signed up on e-harmony, the dating web site?  Well, there was one awfully nice man whose emails stood out from the rest and eventually we began talking on the phone.  Gosh, I guess we talked almost every day for a month. Some of the conversations lasted two hours and more! That was such a revelation to me because I had no idea I could do that: talk on the phone for hours to a man.  I would have never believed I would have anything to say and I figured anxiety and shyness would sabotage my efforts.  I used to talk endlessly on the phone to clients when I worked, but when I quit, it seemed like I developed an aversion akin to a phone phobia...a mild one.  Not only that, but it was a man and I just couldn't imagine how that would be.  Well clearly it went well and I couldn't find a trace of anxiety and shyness anywhere after the first ten minutes.  What a delight to discover that! Who is this woman?

In the natural course of things like that, we decided to meet and see if the attraction would hold up off the phone. In person.   Geeze.  If I thought the phone was scary I was petrified about a face to face. But that's why I signed up on the darned site, so I just swallowed the fear. Thing is, he lives three hours away in a ski town in an area I've always loved.  My family used to go skiing there all the time.  So, since I seldom do anything half way, I decided that rather than planning an innocuous one hour meeting at a Starbucks somewhere between our towns, I would give myself a little Christmas gift and just go there and rent a tiny condo in the village. I've needed to have some alone time desperately.  I  haven't had any since FH left back in May.  I arranged something pleasant for Katy and just went for it.   I thought that if we continued to like each other, I'd have a nice escort for the weekend.  If not, well....it's a great place to just hang out and be alone too. 

I'm happy to report that it went very well.  When he came over the first time, he brought flowers, candy and the sweetest note.  Really!  He must have paid attention to my e-harmony profile where I wrote that I was hoping to find a romantic man. We had a ball.  We went to a movie ("Australia". It was wonderful.), dancing, driving, shopping, eating, talking, and threw in a little bit of kissing just for good measure.  And yes...that was also scary.  Imagine my not having kissed anyone for at least two years, and for the thirty-eight before that, it was just one man. And, after twenty years or so we didn't kiss that much anyway.  I wonder if that is the norm with long married people or if it was just us. Hmmm. Perhaps more kissing would have changed the course.  Well that's doubtful and anyway, I'm getting pretty happy with the course I'm on now.  I won't deny that I've felt a little starved in that area: hugs, kisses, and just simple affection. You know. The good stuff.  Thankfully I was able to maintain some composure and not come off like a needy little puppy, though I admit that at times throughout the last few years I have felt that way.

Oh, and he has a wonderful dog. Roxy. A big plus.

Like I said on this blog long ago, I'm not looking for a husband, a soul mate, or a live in boyfriend, although I suppose a soul mate would always be a good thing to find, though I can't say I believe in those anymore.  But an interesting man to go places with occasionally would be nice, and living three hours apart certainly supports the "occasionally" part.  My friend Paula says my plan won't fly because most men our age are looking for someone to take care of them and they aren't going to be game for having a date once every four or five weeks like I am envisioning. We'll see. 

I do know that I need more of an adult life.  I'm doing several things to try and create one.  I joined that health club and I'm going to volunteer there a few hours a week after the holidays just so I can be around more adults and meet some new people.  I'm going to go back to book club, or at least consider doing that.  I joined when I first moved here, but I just hated most of the books they chose.  My reading time is too treasured by me to read something I don't want to read. Lavonne says they are selecting much more interesting books now.  Frankly, I like entertaining books for my nightly reading in bed. I may just be an occasional visitor.  And I did the e-harmony thing, a very adult thing.

So, what's next? Another nice visit from him, this time here on my turf.  Katy and Max, my son, are going on their own little trip for a few days after Christmas and that is when he'll come.  I'm not up for family introductions just yet.  I don't want to introduce Katy to anyone unless I'm fairly confident he'll be in my life for a decent amount of time.  Not that I'm keeping the facts from her. I'm not. 

So....that's one thing I have been preoccupied with.  I was going to write about how I've begun snow shoeing on the mountain behind the house but I had more to say tonight than I expected so I'll tell you about that fun pastime later. 

It's a great holiday this year.  It really is. Max is here. The atmosphere is void of anxiety. We are going skiing twice while he's here...Katy for her first time, and me for the first time since the 80's.  The weather is gorgeous. We've got fabulous food to cook for Christmas day, and Santa has some fun surprises in store for Katy. 

Right now...life is good.

And, just in case I go fallow again, let me say right here and now...

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!  YOU'RE ALL GREAT!!!!!!!

Rite of Passage

Surely decorating the Christmas tree is an important milestone to get through the first Christmas after a divorce.  I got through that one last night.  I can't say it was jolly.

I wasn't even disappointed that I had to get such a little tree.  THE TREE has always been my thing.  I love decorating the tree.....I always go with the same approach: the collection of ornaments I've built over 40 years the majority of them representing a time, an event, a person in our lives(and a couple of really ugly balls I made in home ec when I was in junior high). I've always had a tree as big as the house would handle.  In this mountain home with the mountain lodge type architecture, the ceilings in the living room are way up there...and so has the tree been, 14 to 17 feet. Clearly, this year that kind of tree was out of the question for a barely five foot tall woman alone.  So I ordered a 6 foot tree, figuring I could handle it but when I picked it up it was a five and a half foot tree and I could carry it with one hand. Hmmmm. This is different.

Getting it set up was simple once I finally managed to saw off a little sliver at the bottom of the trunk so the trunk could absorb water.  That only took 45 minutes and a ton of yelling and banging about of that dull old saw.  Looking up at the tower of Christmas boxes that had to be loaded into the car, hauled up to the house, then later hauled back down to the barn was a bit daunting. Katy and I could just manage these impossibly big and unwieldy boxes by each taking a side and it was a struggle.  I decided to take just the ones that said "Main Ornaments". There were five of those.  Loading the boxes, I'm thinking, this is not the proper set up for a woman alone. 

Katy and I named the tree Squirt.  It's cute. Though it was weird being able to stand flat footed and put the white dove of peace, on the tip top of the tree. 

But opening those boxes of 40 years of ornaments was like letting the wicked Genie out of her lamp.  I  wanted to find my very favorites since the tree was so small. I had collected these Christopher Radko hand blown glass, old world ornaments for many, many years. But as I looked for them, I realized how few were left after last year....

Last year, the tree was huge.  FH put the lights on but after that it was clear he had disengaged wishing to be anywhere but there.  But I put on the Christmas music and Katy and I decorated that big tree.  As soon as  he could escape, he headed for bed, but I was troubled that the tree seemed to move around too much at the slightest touch.  I would place an ornament upon it with the greatest of care and it would sway.  I knew that wasn't the norm. Anxiety gnawed at me, but I continued.  As he headed to bed, I asked him to check it. I know it's listing! Something's not right. He refused to walk across the room and look at it.  I did the best I could. It's fine.  I begged.  Please! I'm worried.  But he just went on up to bed.  So with the most delicate touch I finished up and Katy went to bed. 

I sat in my chair, all the lights off except for the tree and my reading lamp and read awhile bathed in the glow from the hundreds of lights on the most glorious tree ever. Shortly, I sensed a movement from the corner of my eye, and turning my head, I watched in horror as that enormous tree tipped, and moving as if in slow motion, crashed to the floor.  The sound was deafening.  I have never before and never afterward heard a sound like that, the sound of dozens and dozens of beloved Christmas ornaments shattering into a million fragments.  I screamed as if I had witnessed a murder, and indeed, I felt I had.  Katy rushed out from her room and screamed in shock. We began to weep.  Naturally, the crash awakened FH. He raced down the stairs, looked wide eyed at the carnage and he also wept.  As he rushed to see what could be saved, he cut his bare feet in a dozen places. My.  I'll stop there.  It didn't get any better.  It was awful.

Eventually he went back to bed, and I stayed up sitting in my chair hollow hearted, the broken tree still stretching across the room amidst gleaming shards of hand blown glass. That night I knew my marriage would not survive.  And besides, who wants a marriage that merely "survives".  "Survive" is the most beautiful word in the world if you are talking about cancer or a life threatening illness, but a marriage?  I wanted something more than just survival.  The tree became a giant metaphor of my marriage.  The fragments of shattered ornaments, reflecting forty years of memories shattered now as well, because even sweet memories can't remain intact in the harsh light of deception and loss of love.

The sad memories of that dreadful night a year ago threatened to engulf me for the entire time of decorating Squirt.  I could only go on, because well....if you have a kid, at Christmas the show must go on. And Katy seemed ok, only occasionally murmuring about a special loss she felt, or caressing an ornament she loves and remarking that I'm so glad my horse didn't break.

I stayed up late and finished. And today I hauled those boxes back down to the barn.  Now I'm sitting here at my desk, writing this and admiring our little tree.  I feel like I've made it through some rite of passage for divorced people and let me tell you, I'm glad it's done.  I don't know what I'll do next year.  Perhaps I'll gently pack away family memory ornaments for Katy to have on her own tree someday and then I may keep my very favorites, the ones that don't represent a loss or make me sad and then....I'll just go shopping for some new ones.  I do love to shop.

Rocky Mountain Christmas

The only darned photo I took that is recognizable!

Our town has one big day/night that kicks off Christmas. Many organizations and all the stores put a lot of effort into that day and if the locals were lacking in Christmas spirit before, the Big Night turns them around for sure. Only a real bah humbug! Scrooge kind of person could resist the magic of our town, sparkling with lighted trees and buildings on a dark Christmas season night. That night was last night.

  I haven't missed one of these Christmas events since I've lived here. This was my fifth one. There is a craft show, festival of trees, a big dance, chili suppers and home made cookies and cider at every corner and in every store. The culminating event of the evening is the Christmas parade. Some years are so frigidly, miserably cold, lots of people watch the parade from their cars. But I don't care if a gale force wind was blowing a blizzard right down the middle of Main street, I wouldn't watch the parade from a car! This year, however the temperature was a balmy 35 degrees and the good weather brought out a much larger crowd for the Christmas parade than in past years.

 Crowding into both sides of the street making just enough room for the parade to pass, onlookers of this small town parade are active participants.  We reverently place our hands on our hearts when the mounted color guard passes carrying the American and Colorado flags, Christmas lights adorning their beautiful horses, because our patriotism rises at the sight and we all feel just lucky as heck to be exactly where we are at that moment.

And when the search and rescue team passes in force, lights shining on their helmets, we lean toward them, saying things like Thanks guys!  and We sure appreciate your work! because these are the men and women who will save our lives if we ever get lost in these wild mountains.

Dozens of soccer kids (Katy included) walked jauntily in the parade this year, each little head sprouting reindeer antlers outlined in red blinking lights, their voices raised in laughter and singing. 

Plenty of friendly dogs were walking their owners, dogs prancing and barking happily, pulling towards the crowd for pets and admiration. One thing I've realized since living here is that dogs love parades.  A big flat bed trailer was loaded with hay, and riding on it, as calmly as if they were in their home pastures, two of the tiniest miniature horses I've ever seen, their owners sitting beside them stroking their tiny necks.

Then various little floats, often being not much more than gaily lit pick-up trucks, some full of carolers. And finally, several impressive contributions from our wonderful and exuberant volunteer fire department, including of course, Santa on one firetruck. It was the largest and best Christmas parade ever.

When the crowd reluctantly broke up, most people were hoarse from yelling Merry Christmas! a hundred times, and my eyes were misty as always.  Our parades do it to me every time.  My throat tightens, my eyes fill with barely contained tears, and I feel so very happy knowing that what ever happens to me in the future...where ever I go and whatever I do, I was once able to live in this small town where the people are opened and giving, and though there are hundreds here who are moving in from other areas of the country, each and every one of them wants to retain the best of the American spirit in this little American town in the Rocky Mountains.

I am feeling very blessed this year!

Pizza Recipe Correction!

My good friend Linda, whose cousin Vinnie gave her the Winter Pizza recipe called and said, Hey, girlfriend, I read your blog and you left out the mozzarella!

Yikes! Well, I left it out because I didn't know it was in there.  Linda had mixed up the gorgonzola with the mozzarella before she came over. My ears must have been plugged when she talked about the cheese. So, here's the correction:  add a bunch of mozzarella with the big quantity of gorgonzola and you'll have it right!

My Way

The cerulean Colorado sky today.

It's lovely to get home.  Even this small thing,  coming home and getting home,  is so different in this new single life I have.

Max's flight out of Denver did not leave until seven Saturday night so we didn't have to drop him off till six.  That would never have happened with FH (former husband) in the picture.  No. Either Max would have been told to get a very early flight, and we all would have left Fort Collins at the crack of dawn to get him to the airport; or he would have been dropped off at the airport ten hours early.  On the day of departure from anywhere, FH adopted a no nonsense, no fun approach to the day.

 My "single" Saturday, on the other hand, was quite leisurely.  Mid morning my sister and I drove to this mountain trail and hiked it, following up the rather strenuous walk with a double, wet, vanilla cap at Starbucks. Back at my sister's we all lounged around talking, and finally Max, Katy and I moseyed out to the car.  But we still weren't finished having a nice day.  Nope. We stopped and had a relaxing lunch before leaving town. It was just so darned pleasant and  completely opposite to travel-home days in the past.  This was my agenda. 

A light, wet, snow was spitting from the sky as I left the airport making the freeway slippery and the glare from the headlights on the wet pavement more irritating than usual.  Within a half hour my eyes burned, and I knew I'd better have a stout shot of caffeine. But no old gas station cup of coffee for me.  Oh no.  I would have another of those vanilla caps.  Yikes! Two in one day. But who's counting?  I mentally studied the location of the freeway exits in relation to the Starbucks in Colorado Springs and made a plan.  Once off the exit, I decided to pop into the grocery store for a roasted chicken and salad ingredients (the best food for restoring ones waistline after the big feast). Right there next door to the grocery was this little wine shop where I remembered buying a wine I love on sale (7 Deadly Zins).  Heck. I'd just run in there and see if it was still on sale.  It was.  Finally, I rounded the Starbucks building, bought the cappuccino and a chocolate for Katy, drove back onto the freeway, and headed into the mountains and home. I might add that the radio was playing continuously and of course it was my favorite stations I listened to.

It was all that spur-of-the-minute activity that was a novelty for me.
A  pure...unadulterated....novelty. 

You don't realize how much you compromise within a marriage. Sometimes the compromise is quite disproportionate to the disadvantage of one of the partners, the one who would rather just go along with whatever it is rather than argue. As everyone does in life, you pick your fights. But at some point some people, like me, look at their lives and realize they aren't fighting for anything anymore. Not even a nice lunch on the way home from a vacation. That's how you lose the joy. Resignation is a killer.

Once home, I unpacked the car because it was about 29 degrees and I couldn't let makeup or food freeze overnight.  After that I was so wired from the vanilla caps I poured a glass of the new, excellent wine and went to the den with a roasted chicken and baby lettuce sandwich and watched "The Jane Austen Book Club" for the third time. I crawled into bed around one.  

Such a nice day.

And as I suspected it would be, a nice holiday too.