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. 

Wishing and Hopeing

After spending a couple of weeks angry at myself for my juvenile thoughts and stupid actions regarding my "almost boyfriend" ;  I have decided to forgive myself and move on.  I have placed my cute little house on the market in the hope of finding something closer to civilization and a Super Target.  I moved here with so much hope that living here would be good for my marriage and my husband.  It would afford him an opportunity to make friends and play golf and in doing so "we" would be happier.  He's never lived here and I think with winter approaching, I can't either.   In attempting to move at one of the worst times in real estate history, I am holding fast to a verse from the Bible.  Its one I know but don't know its origin nor the circumstances of its promise, but I know it is intended for me.  "I will pitch my tent in land of hope".  And so I once again, break down my campsite and think " where is the land of hope?"   There is no Hope, Alabama, nor Hope, Georgia on the map so I guess hope is where you find it.   It can be anywhere you want it to be.  But who would have ever have thought Atlanta would be considered "the land of Hope" ?  Now I know I have gone truly mad.

Now Back to My Love Life

Ok, so I was a fool for love.  Not the first time nor the last.  I want to say right up front ; this was not one of those "he's just not that into you" stories.  He was really into me.  So how does it happen when a guy's so into you that you wake up one day to find, he's not?  Well, I have a theory on that.  If you have a younger sister or granddaughter who's just beginning her dating career, which is the only way to describe how my "dating" has gone for almost 45 years, send her this blog.  I am going to tell you some of the things I have learned about men and dating.
1.  If he says "I don't want to hurt you", he can and will and already knows it.  He may not have a plan but he knows what he is capable of doing to you. 
2.  If he calls you, kisses you, or says anything about the future within the first 24 hrs of meeting you, he probably will follow up at some point with "I don't want to hurt you".
3.  If he seems too good to be true, he is.  Don't be fooled by anything he says.  A man in heat is just like a dog in heat.  He not only will self destruct, but take you with him.  Many a male dog has died on the highway just trying to get to the female on the other side. And often he has drug her out there with him.  From the moment he sees you until 6 months later, believe nothing.
4.  If he says all the right things, its because he has said them so many times that they fall right out of his month.  He knows what you want to hear and he gives it to you.  I'm not saying he does this on purpose, I'm just saying he does this.
5.  If he says he's not a good guy, believe him.  He knows himself better than you do.  As women we try so hard to say "oh, no, you're wonderful".  He isn't.  He is not a good guy.  He will tell you who he is so listen to him.
So ignore all the love songs you have ever heard.  Listen closer to the breakup, broken up, pulling your heart out through the soles of your shoes songs.  Don't listen to or believe any song by Billy Holliday, Tammy Wynette or Patsy Kline.  Listen to Carrie Underwood.  Kill him before he kills you.  Like Beyonce says "Find the Good in Goodbye". These are the things I have learned the hard  way.  But will I do it again?  I hope so.

The Deer Debate Goes On

My neighborhood has once again sounded the battle cry to kill the deer before they eat the hydrangeas.  This time they will try to do it with bow and arrow.  It is difficult to believe that grown up people, people who appear sound and reasonable would decide that bow hunting through our neighborhood would be the best solution to a slight over population of deer. Especially bow hunting that is done without notifying residences in advance of the day, hour and location of the hunt. And with no understanding of pursuing a wounded deer onto some one's back yard where their grandchildren can view the second arrow hit its mark. Dogs and children wonder through our streets with abandonment along side the wild turkey, deer and bear.   My neighborhood is marketed as a "nature preserve".  It has been for 40 years.  It is stated plainly in many places and many ways, but more assuredly the fact that you see deer calmly grazing by the road is the most obvious indication that the deer who have been born here and lived here all their lives think they are being "preserved".  When the last so called cull was organized, many residents did all they could to deter the shooting of what many of us see as a natural resource.  A asset to our community.  A plus when you are trying to sell.  Many a person has purchased a house here because a beautiful buck walked through the yard of a potential residence and took a drink from the birdbath.  Everyone is amazed at the gentleness of these wild creatures.  True they may be a little too abundant but for the same amount of money we will spend in fighting this fight, hard feelings that will be brought on, property values that may decease (even further) due to all the negative publicity, we could plant the right kinds of vegetation to feed the deer.  And if we don't do that, its not like they are fenced in.  They actually could walk right out of my neighborhood and go raid some one's farm.  If they are still here, its because they are doing somewhat OK.  It seems so many people always believe just because God said we had dominion over all other creatures that necessarily means we will always know what is best for nature, let alone man. Many a home has burned to the ground under the guise of  a"control burn", many a future wrecked to save a salamander,  many a job lost because of a horned toad. We have completely wiped out one species in order to save another.  Man rarely knows what is best for nature and more rarely does he do it.  How in the world can a race of people who care more about fashion than famine, sports than spirit, movie stars than shooting stars and drama than deer be in charge of anything in this world?   Bow season has begun.  All I can say is DUCK!

Wanting to Go Home, When You Are Already There

My recent romance blunder has left me in somewhat reflective mood.  When I wasn't crying, feeling old and miserable and sorry for myself,  I have thought so much about leaving here.  I always promised myself after my last divorce that I would live in the present not looking to the future and wondering.  Not looking to the past and hitting myself over the head with former wedding china, old love letters and an empty bank account.  For some reason though during the last year or so I have only looked forward or back.  Few moments spent in the here, few feelings of the now. I think the isolation I felt has been of my own making.  I have not been as close to those I love here ( or even other places) as I could have been.  Instead I have pulled back from them.  Looking at them as I have the mountains. Loving them but not touching them or allowing them to touch me.  I have worked, worked, worked out and worried. The mountains of Jasper are dark blue and green and they welcome you with a quietness that is found so rarely in our world. On the dam at the lake, you see the colors of the hills, the shadows of the clouds reflected and you feel the breeze brushing your hair and passing softly on your cheek.   You can sit and swing and never hear another sound except the wind and the birds.  You can walk the trails and see the deer. Rather than run, they stand at attention and salute you and watch you pass, with no fear of you as in other places. You can see the bear, the turkey.  As much at home with you as you want to become with them.  The small cub above watched me with a calm composure because she found me in her home, my yard. You can not help but see in this beautiful place all the promises of happiness, something that I have so easily ignored. Finding instead, that you can long for something else, when really all around you is everything you need.  Maybe that was the lesson I learned.  To value what I have, when I have it, for however long I have it. What I have is now.  I am going to do a better job of holding it in my arms.

Definately Not Sweet

When I met my "almost" boyfriend, I held up my 10 fingers and counted out to this dear person, that all I would ask of a man now was to be sweet, sweet, sweet,sweet,sweet,sweet,sweet, sweet, sweet to me, and sex.  Now I find that even that is too much for me to expect from the men in my life.  I made the fatal mistake of having difficulty with his having a date with his ex girlfriend whom he described as a cold, skank.   He decided to go with the skank.  And so in a moment of madness, I banished him forever from my kingdom.  As he loaded the floating igloo cooler (I bought second hand in a thrift store) and the inflatable life raft we called the love boat into the back seat of his Toyota, he vowed that "this was not over, we are not done" but  "I am taking the yacht".  Today though, when I returned from the Auburn football game to my lonely, quiet house , I discovered he also took the cheap plastic, disposable toothbrush he kept in guest bathroom.  Obviously, we are done.  I sit in my bedroom and look at all I have left of this would be romance; some dead dried wildflowers, a broken plastic ring and half a pack of left over Hubba Bubba chewing gum we used the last day we were together for a bubble blowing contest, that he won. I wonder if maybe the lesson here is that if you don't ask for anything, that's exactly what you get.  Or maybe its something else completely.  I shake my head when the reality of my decision sets in and I wonder how I will stand the loneliness of a 4th winter in what to me feels like these desolate, North Georgia mountains.   A small voice inside me whispers "like you always do", with humor.  I am not naive enough to think that setting this terrible loss to laughter, as a musician sets the lyrics to the melody, will in any way lessen the truth of my pain nor slow the flow of my tears.  Even now a small drop appears on the Hubba Bubba and I admit that all I got from "getting back in the saddle again" was saddle sores and a broken heart.

If It Feels Good, Blog It

Much to my own amazement, I am back.  To be honest, I left my blog for a while because I was so overwhelmed with a possible boyfriend that I thought I would say something rude, crude or simply so inappropriate that I didn't trust myself.  I came up with one liners and jokes that could have been used on Saturday Night,  but not intended for my readers who are more a Sunday Morning Group. The 49 year old attorney I kissed on the 4th turned out to be a good guy.  No, he has been really great to me.  He has given me back a part of me that had been slowly torn apart and stuffed so far down that I wasn't sure it was still in me.  It is.  I am a loving and willing person who not only can give affection, but I can receive it, and cherish it.  This "almost" to be boyfriend is not only a darling stud muffin but (fundamental, dear Christian friends, and my children, cover your eyes) has presented me with an opportunity to be completely swept away in whoopee passion. Who would have imaged at 60 you could have "Tim the Tool Man" bring over his toolbox and fix everything in you and your house?   I am definitely accepting that this is not a love, marriage and a baby carriage relationship ; but only I would have a man tell me he wanted to be honest with me and would give me 50/50  odds of returning to his former girlfriend or mention that he feels the thing that will end our "relationship" is my age.  That's hard to take in glaring daylight of a sunny afternoon, but right after a horse and pony show;  it makes you want to dig in with the spurs.  I don't know what will happen next but I do think it is time to return to my small simple life and blog about it.  After weeks of singing "Back in the Saddle Again"  I may be returning to my ole' time favorites "When Will I be Loved" and "Momma Told Me Not to Go".