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The Should Be Four Lettered Word, Divorce

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      Some of you may have noticed that I haven't been around here much. As a Pundit, I hope to compose at least two pieces a week, but recently I was confronted with a challenge that has kept me quite busy, and until now, unable to write. I wanted to explain what it is I'm going through, as I'm sure a few of you have been here before.

      So, it was about three months ago that my husband and I bought a lovely house closer to his work, so his commute wouldn't have to be as long. I painted, patched, and otherwise worked on the old house, readying it for sale, and labored on the new house, in which I was trying to create a home -- that was until one night when my husband came home from work and announced that he wasn't sure if he wanted to be married any longer. In shock, I moved into the new house, having no idea if I would still be married thereafter.

      After a week, the second shoe dropped and it turned out he was seeing someone else, same old, tired story, different cast and characters -- mid-life crisis, married too young, who the hell knows. This announcement came two days shy of my 27th wedding anniversary-- not a real celebratory event it turns out. I was devastated and exhausted from the move. It took me days before I could eat or sleep.

      After the initial shock wore off, I decided that somehow I would not make this harder on my son than it needed to be. I vowed to not fight in front of him, upsetting his sense of security, nor would I allow myself to bad mouth his father. I prayed constantly to stay calm and to maintain this illusionary semblance of normal until my soon-to-be ex could move out and finally grant me some peace. We made the announcement to our son and slowly began to untangle 27 years of marriage and living together. Did I mention this was hard? Yep.

      Seven weeks have now passed, and after being a stay-at-home mom for several years, I am employed part time and interviewing for a secondary part time job at a nearby university. I am through most of the grief, with the help of many good friends and a sister who would not leave my side. I'm now moving forward in every way possible. My ex asked if I wanted to move into an apartment so I wouldn't have all of the housework and landscaping care, and I thought about it and answered, "No."

      I spent months working on this house, designing and organizing every facet of it, and I didn't want to now let it go. Besides that, I didn't want to move for the second time in two months. It's a beautiful home, and it's my home for now. I want to stay in it for the years at least until my son turns 18 (4 years from now). Then, who knows what I will do. It's kind of exciting to think of the possibilities.

      Today, I noticed the lawn was getting shaggy, and although I have never mowed and edged before, I did the work myself. I'm learning that I can do a lot myself. It's empowering and keeps me knowing that I will survive this -- not just survive, but thrive and grow.

      I wanted to include a photo of the front lawn for all of you to see that it's mowed, and I'm just fine, relaxing inside, sipping an iced tea in my home.


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      Pundit Post

      For All You Bikers Out There-you Are Never To Old To Ride.

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          PORT ANGELES, Wash. -- It was a long lifetime ago, and he drove an Indian motorcycle with his wife on the back and his two little girls in the sidecar. The girl on the right, the one with the curly hair, loved it. And she never, ever forgot it.At the ....
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          Pole Talk

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              We had gone on a Troop sized fishing trip to the San Juan Islands. One of the kids fathers had a place out there and had invited us up for the weekend. The good patrols were put up in an outbuilding workshop, we were to make out with our tents in the field. A long day of fishing out of a couple of 12 foot boats, with four to a boat had left us spry with energy. A patrol mate unplugged the fuel line and we watched as our Scoutmaster rowed nearly a half mile towards shore before realizing it and shooting us a death stare. That night fish eyes and guts were strewn silently around the outbuilding floor, the next morning screams of ick and every other word roared from inside. Apparently the my patrol mates didn't feel they had done enough, and tossed the fish teeth into the scrambled eggs of the other patrols. I wasn't a part of it, but guilt by association was all it took. I was a bad kid and I had to take the medicine too.

              I had caught the biggest fish, not the longest, but a large Rock Cod. The prize was a fishing pole and reel, and I worked at it, followed all the jigging instructions etc... When I got the pole and the other kid didn't and started to cry a bit, I felt truly bad for some reason. I kept the pole because everyone told me to, the reel has lost it's top, but the rod is still the same one some forty years later. It is hanging above another pole, one that is going to its proper home today. It is not at all pretty and I need to fix a few of the eyes, but it too has a special meaning. It is going to my nephew, my sister's son, it was given to me by his father and it belongs in his hands. A tiny piece of family history that needs to be told and passed along. His mother died nearly ten years ago, his father nearly nine years passed, something very hard for an eleven year old kid. We will talk about that time and the way that both of us didn't handle that time well at all. A nod to the fact that it doesn't matter your age, grief and loss will screw with the mightiest of us.

              On the top of that wall rack, I have hanging above a closet, is a smoothed out branch of some kind of fir. It has a splintered out tip and a few notches around the top portion. The very top is shiny with oil from the palms of my hands, and it has seen hundreds of miles of trails. The hiking mates that it shared the trail with all gone to their maker too, the stamp of time on a life that is ever thinning the dearest of friends. It is just a stick, it is nothing at all special, and yet it is everything special. I had used that stick to get to those good times and conversations, those drunken campfires and pot fueled fun. The agony and remorse as the hike back brought us back to the reality that we were not supermen, we could and did mess up, usually painfully. The look on my wife's face when my legs looked like I had pissed off a very large clowder of cats. That stick is nothing special, and yet it stays on the wall, talking to me in more ways than anyone would ever know.

              As I remember all of their voices, I remember too that we didn't always see eye to eye. There were disagreements on everything from politics and religions, to basic everyday things, like arguing that a bright light in the sky was either Mars, or Betelgeuse? I loved every single one of them and yet that didn't mean I had to like them all of the time. We had a connection to each others humanity, a sovereignty of condition that transcended our differences. We knew we were all flawed in our own ways and that was even a bonding point, but that didn't stop us from enjoying life. That would be the worst offense to our childhood credo of being bigger than the things that challenged us. That commitment to the humanity inside each of us held close til it's dying day. That sovereignty of the human condition that wipes out the partisan lines, and the differences of skin, or religion, or sex. That obliterates the divisive messaging, and bonds us to something bigger than our political futility. Life.

              Happy Sunday

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              The Trudge

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                  This is one of those blog posts turned poignant, a look at how a word guy's day gets all turned around.

                  To walk with purpose, not always with alacrity, not always with the weight of the world, just walking.

                  When I was hiking years ago with my friends, it was all about point a. to point b.. The trail ahead of me my focused task on so many occasions that I often ignored my surroundings. Yes, a part of that was my ill health and fear of a pending cardiac arrest or stroke; Another part being the various states of mind I held. Those hikes were all about the alcohol and marijuana, and how comfy you could get without killing yourself with weight, there was a liquid to solid ratio we had to individually keep. So as for all of the memories of those hikes, there is plenty of things forgotten or missed along the way too.

                  The last few weeks has been a trudge, just a baseline, get me through the day trudge. Not a depressive state, or a relaxing one, not one filled with manic behaviors or mood swings. I have observed my thinking going stray into old malaize and corrected it accordingly. I have noticed also my lack of tolerance and my ego plays, and have practiced well what I know to change the character defects from being front and center. It is almost like a scene from the Six Million Dollar Man, where everything is moving in freeze frame slow motion; The work is paying off in ways that are as filled with grace as they are lessons. The difference between today and those hikes I had in my past, is today I would more likely be able to tell you how many Dragonflies we saw on the trip and my face would be color filled from keeping my head up and aware.

                  Maybe it is just a comfort and place of security when you know that you have done all that you can, and the best that you can do it? I could lay all of my good fortune and kind dogma upon a single program or belief, but I would be ill advised to do so. This is the grace of being meek in my thinking, ignorance is bliss does not have to have negative connotations if you know how to use it properly. Little did I know I had a test coming up so soon.

                  I began to write this piece on a Saturday morning, by the end of that morning I would learn that my wife's old friend had decided to take his own life the night before. It is an irony of life, and not a painless one at that. Those same delusions of comfort and finalization had taken ahold of me at times very roughly. I had spoken with this friend, I knew the struggles of addiction, and depression he was going through. In the end though he didn't reach out, he didn't call my wife for a caring shoulder, a knowing friendship that can heal.

                  The gratitude grows with every passing day, and passing friend that just couldn't find their way through the rest of their lives. I thought back to my sister, and friends that had shortened their days here to show some of us that there is another way to do this thing, there is another life out there waiting, if we were willing. I am worried today about a test in Math class, because I have decided to go forward. I have worked for the change and I have also accepted much, mostly just the honest truth that I have much to learn and do still. It was very easy for me to believe my life was at an ending just a few years ago. I had no idea how true that was, because that life did end in theory, it changed into something more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. I cannot and do not have the right or ability to get anyone else to this place unless they ask, are willing to listen to themselves. Because the change came not only from the work that it takes to change things, it came mostly from the ability to listen to myself and change those thoughts and actions from the inside out.

                  That is why at times like this it is an overt act of forgiveness I have to offer not only others, but myself as well. This life is filled with grace and compassion beyond belief to many, it is filled with a gratitude that brings me to my knees when even thought about lightly. I cannot give it out as a gift, I cannot save others from their own thinking, that is not my place. I can be an example of the fact, the honest fact that life can change, it will get better, and taking one's life is not a solution, it is just the first car in a multi car collision of effects, leaving nothing, a black hole that cannot tell you their pain, or torment any longer. That is the sadness, knowing it will change, and seeing it never have the chance to. There is no fairness doctrine to this thing called life, there is no lasting defense against the march of time and the constants of change. Society cannot live in a snapshot, and neither should people or their lives be made into one. Forgiveness.

                  The trudge of this journey continues, it is filled with blessings and falls. I would not turn that light out now, I know that there is always a better day ahead. I hold that hope for all of those near and dear to me as well. I care too much to allow those black holes to be held silent, I feel too much responsibility of kind, to pay back to the world what was freely given me. It is part of the gratitude I hold so very close to all that I meet in my life and the journeys and lessons I attain from each and every one of them. To those that remain, I will still commence to give, and all are welcome to trudge with me along this journey called life.

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                  Paw Paw Don’t Let Donald Trump Take Me

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                      My heart hurts because my four-year-old granddaughter told me she don’t want Donald Trump to come to Ohio. I asked her why? She said, “He takes children from their mothers and don’t give them back.”

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                      Pundit Post

                      Moving Right Along--

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                          Moving right along--

                          On Houston Street, a young priest saw a large sign over a hardware store: PINCUS AND O'TOOLE, and went in, to be greeted by man with a beard and yarmulke.

                          The priest smiled, "I just wanted to come in and tell you how wonderful it is to see that your people and mine have become such good friends - even partners. That's a surprise!"

                          "I've got a bigger surprise," sighed the old man. "I'm O'Toole."

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                          With Heart In Hand.

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                              I am an Old Canadian Biker (among other things)
                              With Heart in Hand.

                              I placed the following comment on a web sight that calls it’s self Christian.
                              It is a publication that spends the bulk of it’s time attacking the LGBT community.
                              I am so sick of these one trick pony preachers!
                              --
                              1 Corinthians chapter 6: 1-11 is all about Christians settling their Lawsuits among Believers.
                              First verse: 1 Dare any of you, having a matter against another, go to law before the unjust, and not before the saints (christians) ?

                              This is used to beat up upon the LGBT Community.
                              1 Corinthians 6: 9- (kjv)
                              Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God?
                              Be not deceived:

                              01- fornicators,
                              02- idolaters, nor
                              03- adulterers, nor
                              04- effeminate, nor
                              05- abusers of themselves with mankind, (vs. 10)
                              06- Nor thieves, nor
                              07- covetous, nor
                              08- drunkards, nor
                              09- revilers, nor
                              10- extortioners,
                              --
                              shall inherit the kingdom of God. (vs.11)
                              And such were some of you:
                              >>> "BUT" <<<

                              ye are
                              WASHED, but ye are
                              SANCTIFIED, but ye are
                              JUSTIFIED ,in the name of the Lord Jesus, and
                              by the Spirit of our God.

                              03.4- percent of American adults identify themselves as being LGBT.
                              96.6- percent of American adults identify themselves as being straight.
                              Dear Christian Brother praise the Lord for your relentless Preaching against the 03.4 % of America .
                              Can’t you hear the 96.6 % of straight America shouting
                              Hallelujah (Hebrew: הללויה , Hallalu-yah) from that Church self-righteous Amen Pew.
                              Preacher , Bless your heart for your service in the Lord’s work.
                              Now Sir will you permit me as aka “Disgraced Deacon Daly” to crawl out of the Baptism Tank where I have been hiding with the Church mouse and let me borrow your pulpit.
                              I will cut lose with The sword of the LORD, and of Gideon on the other 96.6% of America and the 9 out of 10 sins you missed.
                              My first sermon will be about the first sin on the list,
                              # 01- fornicators,
                              I will shake your stained glass windows.
                              Allow me to separate the wheat from the chaff.
                              The 96.6 % will Repent in tears in sack cloth and ashes or march out of your congregation and web sight in unrighteous indignation.
                              What say you Preacher ?
                              Want me to preach / comment on the #1 on the list?
                              Preacher! “Let me help you with that”.
                              Do any of you fornicators, have anything to say?
                              Ty.
                              Disgraced Deacon Daly / HarleyBoy

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                              My Boy Sprocket Is Now Working For Trump.

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                                  TRUMP CALLS CANADIANS --- "SHOE SMUGGLERS"


                                  When you see our flag.
                                  Remember our hero, Sprocket the English Bulldog Daly.
                                  Smugglers are afraid, they know Sprocket and Trump are onto them.
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