THIS WEEK

This week I’ve been a good girl – I’ve hunkered down at home; doing things around the castle and castle grounds, but I’m thinking I may jump the threshold Sunday and go for a drive ;-).

Florida has opened up, and Pasco, WA has followed suit today. Hopefully, inslee will stop being a fascist dictator and lift the restrictions he illegally slapped down on Washingtonians. People are ready to go back to work, and the rest of us need to get on with our lives too: quarantine does not work, and the government hog-tying us and trapping us in our homes for years “to protect” us is insane. America was founded to get away from heavy-handed government power trips. It’s is waaay past time for The People to insist our States be opened up.

That said … here’s some of what I’ve been doing for the past 10 days:

Reading down the paper shown, and checking off things, I have showered – but will not be posting pics to that effect: NO ONE wants to see that!

I don’t do meds … but I do Vitamins – and had to laugh when an episode of ‘I Love Lucy’ popped into my thoughts. My vitamins don’t taste quite as icky, but some can be a test of tolerance:

I've added taking my temperature when I go out in public to my daily vitamin regime.

I have been keeping hydrated – I don’t want to end up in ER for any reason.

I’ve done SO much house cleaning during this stupid lockdown (I’m so fricking b.o.r.e.d.), that I am beginning to hate the smell of house cleaners – and the combined odors is not good for my asthma either …

Some of the seedlings I planted a few weeks ago have sprouted their secondary leaves, so I planted them outside in the garden boxes Bob built for me the 18 months he was living here, in the castle, with me:

Rutabaga; 12 ct

Dragon Radish; 3 ct

Cauliflower - left, 4 ct;  Choi’s - Center, 4 ct EA; Broccoli - Right, 4 ct

Clean regrowth & healthy blossoms. 2020

Diseased limbs cut off last Summer; severe pruning. 2019

I am always mindfully present; especially when it comes to music. Today was Steve Miller music day …

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Gkg3Ck37k0

And when working with my hands; knitting and crochet work is my ‘sensory’ therapy ;-)

Baby Sweater Jacket Fronts completed; 6 MO. Pattern will be posted when the Sweater Jacket is sewn together later this week.

I see birds outside my livingroom window lighting down on the Bird Feeder, and stuffing the Bird House with tiny twigs and dried grass bits for nest building:

Bird feeder Bob designed and built for me.

And my ‘spiritual practice’ is reading Bob’s Bible from cover to cover this year. It was to go to Azariah, but Stacey forbids him receiving it. She hates Christianity: she hates me because I am a Christian, and will not allow our grandson to have his grandfather’s Bible as a keepsake. That is sad. And I find people who claim to be tolerable of differences, to be very intolerable when it comes to Christianity.

I have my own Bible (several actually, though I prefer my KJV), but I will read Bob’s because it comforts me that it is his. And it is meant to be used …

I read it every morning before I get up out of bed. Sometimes I read it at night with the headlamp.

I reach out to other humans – I enjoy the new neighbors at the back end of our Lot, when we are outside at the same time: we practice ‘safe distancing’. They are quite a bit older than me, so I am careful to keep a comfortable distance between us when we chat over the fence.

I get my heart rate up by exercising … and dancing to the music I play throughout the days:

 

The 1 thing I am glad I do, is to call or text my granddaughters and friends every week during this lockdown to ask how they are doing – and to let them know I am thinking of them. That is important. Being trapped in the house can get depressing and people start feeling like no one cares about them. The onset of depression is another reason the governors need to open the states up and get people back to living a life of quality: for however long they have their lives. What good is it to “save” people’s lives if you destroy their minds?

The 1 thing I did this week, “just because”, was to paint the plant stand I bought when I was in Adna last week. It is a nice stand, but it was rusty and needed repainted.

So, I did that this afternoon …

Painted plant stand will be finished with a sealer.

I blended these two colors (whole bottles) ‘Mountain Blue’ & ‘Arbor Green’ to get the desired color tint I wanted.

And I get in several laughs a day watching old black-n-white movies on Youtube in between house cleaning, exercising, crafting, and gardening.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZGoCo9afSw

This is how I spend my time; my week days are pretty full days despite being trapped indoors.

But I am missing people – no so much interacting with people, as just having people in my day in some capacity.

My busy week days and lack of companionship in my immediate space are why I will be going for a loooong drive come Sunday ;-)

HE LIKED THAT

I'm struggling with today: LOTS of memories built around this date on the calendar; didn't matter what year. But April 19th, 1974, was the most important memory because that date was the beginning of our lives together. It was our first date night.

As I mentioned in earlier posts, my mother wasn’t happy with me that I was bucking her and going out with Bob against her concerns. My way of thinking was that she’d never been concerned before about anything I did – why was this date enough to set her teeth on edge? Well … because it would embarrass the family. And that was taboo. We were raised bohemian and could basically do anything; as long as it didn’t embarrass the family. Me, choosing to go out with a separated man – who may end up staying married in the end – would be an embarrassment to my mother.

And I didn’t care. My parents and siblings, with their own choices, had … and were … embarrassed/embarrassing me. And no one was worried about that.

So.

Bob would be coming: and I would go.

He called me around 6 PM telling me he’d be calling for me around 7 PM; and I said, “Just honk your horn and I run out to your truck.” I did not want a showdown on this particular night.

Bob showed up on the front porch, promptly at 7 PM. He refused to honk for me, and instead walked up the front porch steps and knocked – I answered the door – my mother gave him the evil eye … and I rushed Bob out to his truck.

He was reaching to open the passenger side door, when my hand got there first. On purpose. He went around to the driver’s side, got in and asked me what I’d like to do. I asked him, “Anything?” He grinned, and said, “Anything.” So, I said I had friends in Longview who were moving into their apartment, and I’d like to help them if I could. He said, “Okay.” I grinned wider, and said, “Good, because I didn’t dress fancy.” And off we drove.

Neither of us were dressed fancy, but I really hadn’t dressed in anything more than my patched ‘lucky’ blue jeans, and one of my stepfather’s polo shirts. For my first date with the man of my dreams! Bob was wearing jeans too, with an open-neck brown-print-on-cream shirt. Nothing fancy. We were both playing it cool: no pressure. He liked that.

I don’t know what Bob’s plans were for that first date – I never did ask, and he didn’t volunteer info – but, I’m pretty sure helping people move into their apartment was not in his thoughts. But, he gamely went along with it. By 9 PM, my friends and all their worldly possessions had been moved into their new home. Bob was comfortable with my friends – and they were comfortable with him. People always liked being around Bob: Bob was a people-piper; he just had a personality that put everyone at ease ;-)

We left the apartment and Bob suggested we go get a pizza. I agreed. Pizza was perfect! If there was any messiness or awkward eating moments, it wouldn’t matter. Eating pizza is messy, and can sometimes be awkward :-D

Bob took me to Pietro's Pizza by Industrial Way, where we bought a half pineapple & half pepperoni pizza and 2 Lowenbrau beers. Bruno (who later opened a pizza parlor under his own name and brand) was the beer tap fella: we all became fast friends, and remained fast friends through the years until he retired. Our kids and grandkids literally grew up together, we were in his pizza place so much.

But, today, 46 years ago, we were eating pizza at Pietro’s and getting to know more about each other. There was no awkwardness to get past – other than me being very independent and insisting I open my own doors and pay half of the meal tab. Bob was a gentleman and felt he should open my doors and pay for the evening out; I was a very liberated teen and explained that I did not want to be beholden to anyone for any reason: I would pay my share, and fend for myself. That way, as the evening progressed there would be no demands made and no faces slapped. Bob laughed, and understood my point of view and respected it. I was always straight-up, and straight-forward with Bob. From the get-go. He liked that.

I was 7 years younger than Bob: I was 17 – he was 24. I really didn’t know much about him. At all. I did not know his family background; I did not know his High School “star’ status. I think he liked that. I was out with him because he interested me – I wasn’t fawning all over him because of who his family was; or because he’d been a bigwig in his high school days. If I fawned over him (and I did), it was because he had piqued my interest when we were thrown together by fate at his house, a few weeks earlier … and because he had caught my eye and stole my heart 7 years earlier; and I never got over that. He liked that. 

Our 1^st Date. April 19^th, 1974.

What I liked was that I never had to question Bob’s interest in me. Ever. There was never any doubt at all about his intentions – he liked me. A lot. From the first meeting; and he went out of his way to get that message across to me.

But I was cautious.

He was still legally married.

And Gloria was cunning; she didn’t want him … but she didn’t want anyone else to have him either.

Bob was a good-looking man.

Bob. 1974.

He was well-built and handsome of face. He was kind, generous, gentle, and attentive. I couldn’t understand why she jumped the fence. But, even at 17, I understood that there are things that happen behind closed doors that only the 2 people involved know about. And that is what was causing the breakdown. It was none of my business. I didn’t ask – he didn’t volunteer: it was their business. And it was being taken care of.

But, marriage and divorce being a complicated matter – especially with a child involved, I was no fool. Gloria could come back and restake her claim. That was a very real possibility.

I was stepping out cautiously.

When we got back to Cathlamet from Longview, the night was still young: midnight seemed a long way off. I threw caution to the wind and we made love that night. Our first date night. And I didn’t feel any guilt at all. It was MY decision: there was no putting out because Bob had put up. I had early on drawn a line in the sand and Bob had respected that line. Now, I was stepping over the line; of my own free will. I didn't know if I'd ever see him again - I wasn't passing up this chance to be with him. Completely: no demands put on him for declarations he wasn't ready to give. No recriminations. Just tonight. It was my choice and he would be absolved of any fault if things went south. He liked that.

I loved Bob. And Bob was ready to be loved. He was the oldest of 6 kids – and he’d been legally bound for 6 years … but before I came into his life, he’d never been fully loved. He’d never had anybody’s attention focused solely on him. I gave him all my attention – without putting demands of ownership on him. He liked that.

From the moment our eyes met over his driver license, in the Spring of 1974 – until the time we said our final goodbyes in December of 2018, looking into each other’s eyes … my attention had been focused on him. He liked that.

Bob was not a vain man, but he did like that I loved him deeply and that I put him above anyone and everything else: except Elohei, of course. I tried valiantly not to cry those final hours; but sometimes I couldn’t stop the tears. And always, there was that smile beaming across his face when he looked into my eyes and tried to instill strength in me during those trying times. And I would look into his eyes, and touch his face, and remember that first date. The conversations we had that first night … and all the nights that followed for 44 years together. Remember how we walked, hand in hand; happy to be together, even after 44 years together. I couldn’t stop the tears. I wanted to be brave – I was brave. But my heart was already missing him, and was longing for the happiness we shared: all the moments he took my breath away.

It’s now 15 months/5 days/8 hours & 25 minutes since I last held Bob’s hand and we looked into each other’s eyes. If it were not raining, would I have escaped to enjoy a long drive in the countryside, instead of feeling my nose burn with the onset of tears to come? I don’t know. Would I be inviting friends over for Supper if there were not a lock-down in place? I don’t know.

What I do know, is that April 19^th has arrived … and Bob will never arrive again.

Today, I wanted to remember this First Date date, with a pizza salute to the man of my dreams and the love of my life. But because it is such an emotional day for me, I didn't want to drive into town and risk breaking down in public during pickup: so I put feelers out. I posted this post on FB's Takeout Food - Central Cowlitz County: {{Pizza places that will deliver to Heron Pointe in Longview? Bruno's won't deliver "that far out" ... it's only 10 minutes, for Pete's sake! The girl on the phone said "our insurance won't let us deliver that far out." Today is a special day for this widow. I'd really like a Pepperoni Pizza. My husband loved pizza.}}

And a kind woman and her husband answered ... AND DELIVERED TO MY DOOR :-D They refused to be repaid the money the pizza cost, or gas costs for running it out to me. THEY WILL BE BLESSED.

And now, if I break down and cry; no one by Yeshua - and Bob - will see me.

And they both understand.

Always ~ OX

BEAUTIFUL BLUE-SKY DAY

Today was a beautiful blue-sky day …

… so, I decided to start prepping the castle’s garden space.

The humidity was high, but I did not have to use my inhaler – thank the Lord. Birds were singing, lawn mowers were buzzing over lawns, neighbors were chatting back and forth across lots … life seemed almost normal.

As I pulled my garden tools out of the shed, and started turning the soil over in my garden boxes, I was missing my man. Big time. I am still not used to having him gone from my life. Bob should be here, smiling and watching me enjoy his designs, specifically crafted for me to enjoy.

Maybe Bob was present and I just didn’t know it. I believe Scripture tells me that Bob can still see me – it’s not the same of course because I am not aware of his presence now; but I do believe he sees me. All around me, life was unfolding. Everything seemed almost normal.

I had turned over 4 boxes before coming to the leeks bed:

The violas have re-seeded prolifically all over the lot, so I yanked them out of the garden boxes, and didn’t bother to transplant them. Some of the over-wintered leeks were beefing up pretty nice – but some had struggled among the viola patches, so I lifted those and transplanted them among the larger ones. The bed looked pretty tidy, and the struggling transplants should take, and shoot up healthily …

 A little further down the line, I was able to glean a nice bit of over-wintered ‘Mascara’ lettuce and a few over-wintered scallions: I hustled those gleanings inside to keep fresh in a cup of water until I was finished prepping the garden boxes. I was a little breathless from the high humidity, strenuous labor, and dust floating in the air … but I wasn’t concerned enough to use the inhaler. I wasn’t feeling the onset of asthma. I am determined to live my life uninterrupted by asthma concerns. The steroids in the inhaler can cause cataracts – I need my eyesight. And my asthma is controllable with little reliance on the inhaler.

Coming to the last garden box, I saw that the over-wintered parsnips were ready to be harvested; so, I pulled those, and took them inside too. I like the scent of parsnips – clean and crisp like a breath of Spring air. I think I’ll make a batch of parsnip soup with these roots:

Parsnips, Lettuce, Scallions, & Miner's Lettuce

As I turned over the soil in each box, I covered them with plastic netting to keep neighborhood cats out of the soil – and to keep birds from stealing seed once I start seeding my garden area; I couldn’t seed today – and I didn’t weed the Lot either: I’ll do those things another day. My main concern today was prepping the garden area …

All garden boxes are now ready to receive transplants.

Yesterday, I pulled my geraniums from under the front porch; watering them and setting them in place again, on the front steps and along the porch railing; there is new growth on some … but some don’t look so good – seeing that I may lose a few, I was glad I kept the Fall pruning’s and rooted them in the house over-winter: ALL of these geraniums are well over 2 decades old, and many of them have special memories connected to the receiving of them. I hope they ALL rebound, but if some don’t, I have the rooted transplants from the mother plants, and I bought a few more at the Adna Floral Market when I was there Wednesday afternoon. I love geraniums, and can always find room for new ones ;-)

New geraniums bought April 15^th, 2020

Geranium cuttings trimmed & repotted - September 12th, 2019. Some of the mother plants are 25- & 20-years old.

The garden area prepped and netted, I put my gardening tools in the shed, ate Supper, dropped off into a 2 hour catnap … and started painting one of the plant stands after I returned from the ‘Land of Wynken-Blynken-and Nod’ ;-)

I wanted a color to match the terra cotta bird bath I always set on it, in my garden area. But I didn’t have any ready paint colors that would give me the desired effect, so I blended 2 paints on a sturdy paper plate to make the color I wanted … and I applied the paint with a sponge wedge (I quartered a round bath sea sponge), and touched up a few spots with a tiny paint brush:

Blended entire contents of both 'Sweet Potato' & 'Chestnut' paints to make a terra cotta tint.

It took time to finish the project, but the acrylic paint dried pretty fast, and I’m happy with the outcome :-D

All I need to do now is spray it with a clear paint sealer so the rains don’t wash the water-based paint away.

I'm liking it!

Close match. And my hands are so red (you can see it in the picture) - they burn too, from all the hand washing and use of sanitizer: I'm going to STOP doing both 24/7. My hand skin is literally cracking & bleeding. I can't have this much chemicals on my skin every day.

All it needs now is a sealer.

Tomorrow – maybe – I’ll paint the other plant stand ;-)

WHEN ~ April 15th, 1974

46 years ago, when Bob & I first met face to face, it was on Main Street in Catlamet. I was passing by Kerstetter’s Grocery Store, and a mutual friend saw me, and was quickly hustling Bob out of the Arcade – directly across from Kerstetter’s – and running him across the street to introduce us to each other, saying to each of us, “You should get to know each other – you’ll like each other.”

I wasn’t interested. I was already dating someone else. I gave Bob a cursory glance; and moved on. Out of sight: out of mind. I can’t speak for Bob, but that’s how it was for me.

The next time Bob & I met face to face, it was at his house. In Cathlamet. It was a fluke meeting … and we were both caught off guard. I was at a house party (in Bob’s house, where Doug rented a room) with Doug – my steady fella since the 6^th Grade. We had an understanding, if not an official engagement. Everyone KNEW we were going to make it final one day. Bob had been visiting his son in Portland, OR (he and Gloria had been separated since November 1973); he walked through the door, I carded him, we laughed: it was love in the making. We started talking and spent the remainder of the evening together, comfortably learning more about each other until my midnight curfew. Bob walked me home, and kissed me tenderly.

Bob was always gentle with me.

I told him I didn’t date married men. I didn’t want to hear from him again as long as he was legally married. He knew I meant it.

I walked into my parent’s house and put that night out of my mind. I was 17, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew that married people talked about divorce – and sometimes it happened, but most often it didn’t. Bob was 24 and had a 4 year old son. Married people usually tried to work things out when a child was involved. Bob was legally married even though his wife was openly living with another man since their November 1973 separation.

I loved Bob – I had loved him when I first saw his face in 1967 … 7 years earlier when I was a love-struck 10 year old, pathetically waiting for him to walk past me at the corner of the school building: he never even noticed me. He noticed me at his house, though, in 1974. I loved Bob: I had always loved Bob, and I knew then that I would always love Bob. BUT, I was not interested in becoming a corner to a love triangle.

I put Bob out of my thoughts: out of sight, and out of mind.

Married people talked about divorce.

I wasn’t going to get caught up in that.

When I heard from Bob again, it was tonight – 46 years ago. A Monday. He called my parent’s house around suppertime, after he got home from work. I don’t know how he got my phone number, but I thankful he did :-D

But, I have to admit, when I picked up the receiver and heard his voice, I did not know who was calling. Even when he said his name … I didn’t know (out of sight; out of mind); until he said, “Gloria filed divorce papers April 1^st; I’d really like to see you Friday night if you’d like to do something together.” THEN I KNEW!

And ((((YES!)))) I would like very much to see him Friday night :-D

Bob was the love of my life.

A face without a Name.

 

Now the face had a name.

And the face with a name wanted to spend time with me.

I was on Cloud 9 :-D

But I was also stepping out cautiously.

Married people talked about divorce: sometimes it happened, but most often they made up and stayed married.

Bob had told me that though he’d been married for 6 years, he and Gloria had only really been {married-married} for a ‘maybe a year’: she was always leaving him and running home to her mother. They had gotten married very young: Bob was 19 and Gloria was 16. They were basically children playing house, and Gloria got bored with being a housewife quite a lot - they both hurt each other; spiteful things people do when they are miserable. There was a lot of hurt with plenty of blame going both ways. This separation though, she was openly living with Dale – her soon to be 2^nd husband. And she had filed the papers.

I was stepping out Friday night cautiously.

Hoping my comfortable Cloud 9 didn’t dissipate.

I was 17.

Bob was 24.