Sweet Home Alabama

Last night I learned that my ex husband who is estranged, and strange in many a way, has married his Russian Mail Order Bride; who has not yet seen 30.  He, I remind you, is 66 and has three stints in place.  At first, I must admit I was shocked yet somehow all the hoop-la and insanity once again validated my belief that everyone from Alabama is a character.  We are different beyond understanding and yet so totally real that sometimes it is almost scary for me.   I don't just say this from reading To Kill A Mockingbird or Sweet Home Alabama.  I am related, by marriage, you know to Harper Lee and Truman Compote.  I can trace my ancestors to the Lee's of Virginia and the slaughter in Chattanooga. My great grandfather cut off the limbs of Confederate troops and lost his way home in North Carolina.   I am of Scottish descendants who came to Alabama in a covered wagon.  I don't base this proposition or wildness/weirdness.  Its not based on Hank Williams songs or Crazy in Alabama movies or books.  I base this on the fact that I don't know anyone who was born in Alabama, grew up there,  who celebrated the South and the Confederacy who is not a nut .  It is not based on the fact that everyone I know back home still has something with a Confederate Flag somewhere, hidden or not.  I say this because all those same crazy ass people back there in Alabama, love their home.  They love the stupidity, the bullheadedness, the complete utter disregard for reality or even the fact that they live in a double wide.  They love Alabama/Auburn Football.  They love the Bear and Shug.   They love mosquitoes and palmettos bushes.   They love the South.  They drink sweet tea and Coke even if they are diabetic.  They love Sweet Home Alabama.  Yesterday in the mist of my come-apart a woman from Ohio walked into the little  store where I work in the North Georgia Mountains and said, "My gosh, you still have Confederate Flags on stuff".  I smiled at her in her complete utter ignorance and said "Yes, we do.  We still hope to God that we win".   She did not buy anything.  I did not care.  For I made a decision that I am going home.

Becoming a Grand-something

Since Christmas, I have applied myself to discovering a new way of dealing with my life.  For years I have read all the self help books, studied the Bible and never missed Oprah ( until she decided to support Obama).  Still I have found myself, divorced, again, and living in the foothills of Appalachia were ignorance and dental hygienic run rampant.  In January as part of my New Year's Resolution, I resigned from an in-effective volunteer job and began to read everything I could find on changing my life, broadening my horizons and selling my house.  I have downloaded every self-help book, re-framed from dating (on-line) and prayed.  During that time, my strong, resilient big brother has died and I have found another "non committing man".  You ask, "How in the name of God do you meet a man and not date?". My reply is that it is easy.  I have made a life of it.  Almost by chance I heard a sermon from "Joel Osteen, TV Let Me Tell You How To Live" and read "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People" all within 7 days of each other.  Neither one could have moved me, but together they shattered my resistance and got my attention; coupled with the passing of my brother and my 6lst birthday.  I am not about to tell you how to change, live or even stay alive but I am going to explore the possibilities that have opened to me and I am going to share them with you.  My brother is the best example of becoming all new that I have ever seen.  He became the man he wanted to be for his children, in becoming a saint to his grandchildren.  They called him "Grandbuddy" because that is what he became to them.   A wonderful friend, a great supporter and an inspiration to all those precious grandchildren and great-grandchildren who came to know him  My brother, Buddy, was not a sweetheart, not a pushover, not a man who made great promises or flattered you. But, he became a new creature in God to his grandchildren.  If all I ever am in this world is a good grandparent, can you even image the difference I will make in the world.  Thank you, Buddy, for helping to point me in the right direction. And please, help me find a good man!

Another Winter of Discontent

The winter I have been dreading for six months has come to my neighborhood.  We had our second snow yesterday.  It was heavy enough to mar my vision but luckily didn't stick.  The mountain tops though are white and shiny in the sunlight this morning.  Cars at the post office have snow and ice on the windshields.  I will work today and tomorrow and celebrate the New Year sitting at a table of women; once again vowing to meet a man I admire before Christmas.  Trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.  Or more importantly what the rest of my life will do to me.  My ex is engaged to the Russian. Only I would be succeeded by a Russian Mail Order Bride.  Despite my commitment to working out with weights; having seen her on Facebook,  I think she could take me.  And my ex also.  That's four women (serious relationships, but all of his are!) at four addresses in less than four years.  That sounds like a line in a bad made for TV movie but once again it is just the truth of my life.  No, the truth of his life.  Happy New Year to all of you and may God continue to bless us.

Its the Autumn Of My Years and The Nuts Are Falling

For almost 3 years I have wanted to talk openly, face to face with my ex-husband.  If someone asked me why, I would tell them I needed closure. I wanted to say things to his face I have never had an opportunity to say.   Today I was talking very lightly with someone and they asked that if he called me tomorrow and wanted me to meet him half-way, to talk, face to face, would  I want to drive for two hours to do it.  I said "No, I don't have time to waste or money for gas".  That was the first time I have ever said that and felt that way.  In 3 years.  I have  realized after being on Zoosk for a month(which feels like 3 years), Match for 6 months, and The Road to Insanity for 3 years, that if you are a man (or woman?) and alone at 60-65 because you wanted a divorce;  there is something wrong with you.  I understand the death of a spouse, I have suffered that terrible loss.  But to decide at this point in life to divorce; well, you have to be nuts.  OK,  you could have one divorce,  maybe two. Some reasonable excuse like she joined the circus or the mafia.  But if you've had 3 or 4, even 5, you are crazy and some kind of nut.  I admit to two, but both were because my husband was sleeping with someone else, openly.  That may indicate that there is something wrong with me, but its not an inability to commit.  Men who are divorced repeatedly into their mature years, are nuts. That's my final word on that. Now I need to check my Zoosk email.

DeJa Vue All Over Again

Once again we read a story about a man who has ruined his life and embarrassed himself and his family by inappropriate sexual conduct.  Its not a new story, in fact, its as old as man himself and yet, kings are brought down by it, presidents embarrassed and everyday men, captured and destroyed by  its appeal.  I usually find that the Internet and Viagra are part of the culprits but to be honest men have always been pigs and women have always  been willing to feed at the trough. The thing I find so amazing is that men don't learn and stop doing this to themselves.  When they are in a position of power and when they know that should they get caught it will effect their lives and their billfolds so substantially; they blindly proceed full steam ahead.  Its almost like they retreat to the teenager who felt that they were so invincible that they could defy death and sometimes gravity only to realize at the last moment they were headed over a cliff.  We seem to be just like the poor dumb creatures who don't recognize the baited field, the danger of a fast moving car, the threat of a tiger slowly moving through tall grass in Africa.  We are just poor dumb creatures also.  Then the women end the affair and  write the book that tells the story and end up making the dough and getting the recognition they wanted in the first place. DeJa Vue.

I Paint Like I Date, Nuff Said

Once again I sit here and wonder what in the world to write about.  I could continue with my exciting dating life.  You know that would be a lie.  I will tell you though that I am continuing to hold fast and true to my promise to have a date for New Year's Eve even if it is with another nut.  So I am still on Zoosk and all I can say is "Great Zoosk, who in the world are these people?" This week I want to tell you about something good in my life instead.   My artwork.  I am not an artist.  Artist have talent and training and most importantly, better paint and brushes than I have. But what I lack in all the above I have made up for in having nerve.  I will try anything.  I  paint on everything, anything.  Windows, old tin, aluminum siding, pots, pans, hub caps, everything. My vivid imagination and complete lack of discretion has made me a natural when it comes to finding something silly and fun to paint and not being the least bit embarrassed that someone will pay for it.  After all I have actually paid to meet someone on-line.  Even dumber I have paid to have my house cleaned when others are paying me to clean their houses.  So to sell my artwork to unsuspecting art lovers in Jasper,  doesn't bother me at all.  I am including a couple of my newest pieces so that you see I really am telling the truth.  Not even stretching it this time.  I feel like Bob in "What About Bob?" strapped to a mask and heading out to sea, yelling at the top of his lungs, "I'm sailing, I'm a sailor". Only I am yelling to all of you "I paint, I am a painter".   And I have paint on my garage floor, hair, my chairs, bottom of my feet ( I should wear shoes), door nobs and a lot of my clothes to prove it.

I've Been Zoosked

A good friend of mine has suggested that I give Internet dating another chance.  At this point I am not willing to spend any more money meeting Mr. Wrong, so I am trying one of the "supposedly" free services.  After several minutes of Searching last night I closed down the site and went to watch a movie.  This morning though I was richly rewarded with lots of emails and contacts.   So far I have been winked at and flirted with by a slew of eligible men.  I have been contacted by a very large black man who's first claim to fame was that he is the father of eight "who's don't currently live with him".  That was hard to resist.  Then I got doubled winked at by a man from Atlanta who I think I have seen on America's Most Wanted.  He forgot how to spell Atlanta.  Next a double wink, wink and a flirt by a man who's handle is SANTASOON.  Of course, he was wearing a red shirt and had a long white flowing beard and beautifully matching hair.  And who would be surprised to know that he lives in Jasper, Georgia.  You know, you almost couldn't make this stuff up.  I can't wait to see who contacts me next.  Probably Drew Peterson stating that he has been very misunderstood and unloved by the women in his life.