Having written so much about the struggle to find a job, I wanted to let you all know its finally happened. I’m scheduling the pre-employment formalities and should have a start date soon. I’m trying not to get too excited, too soon, but it sure beats being miserable.

Thank you all for your support and good wishes.

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Stepping In It, the Country Way

I sit here in the little farmhouse amidst the renovations in the living room already finished. Beside my chair is the door that hides the furnace with it’s molding like the door, freshly painted glossy beige now topped with greasy smudges.  Between the door’s molding and the small table that holds my iMac, a space approximately eight inches, sticks a tiny bug, one wing still attached. I squashed it last week. It has yet to fly or disappear. It remains not far from the smudges waiting for me to care.

This here is my resting place and my place of business away from the destruction, now reconstruction going on in the kitchen, its entry some twelve feet away. So here the smudges stay with the no longer flying bug beside them, and beside my refuge out into the world. They are an example of my efforts: those spinning wheels that struggle to move along.

We’re working on the kitchen putting up a ceiling and some new walls now that all of the plumbing and electric work is finally finished. We had to stop when the water did, that is the hot water to the shower, an unrelated issues, nonetheless one of those one step forward two steps back. Once fixed or should I say replaced with new fixtures we were back from the bathroom into the kitchen, that is until the septic started backing up in the yard.

So, I called the septic company and scheduled a pumping, I spent the afternoon digging to clear the cover, had it pumped, another unrelated issue, and then we got back to the kitchen. It was just another one of those ‘trying to take a step forward and ended up stepping in shit,’ pun intended.

Well, anyway, we’re supposed to be moving into Fred’s house, so, I’m getting this one ready to go on the market. You see he was good enough to buy a new dishwasher months ago first thing to be replaced in his house for me, but we’re not there and after waiting, and waiting, now eight years with dish pan hands, I had enough so, this week I bought a dishwasher for my little farmhouse.

I thought he’d be happy that I finally listened to him. For years he’s been saying I should buy a dishwasher. You see, I didn’t realize that would mean, now on our way out replacing the drain under the sink and wiring another electric line into the kitchen. It took a couple of days but we got it all worked out. Now, all I need to do is push a button. I no longer have to get angry at the fairy in the morning for not coming to wash those damn dishes in the night.

With there never being a dishwasher in old Janie’s farmhouse, she was just pleased to not have to go outside, simple woman, God bless her, we had to cut into the cabinets to slide in the dishwasher and cut holes for the lines, cover that darn mouse-hole with a piece of wood, no more draft, I know better that to say, “No more mice.” So, a few more days went by…

If you’re wondering about the garden… it was a spectacular crop now ended. I had some seedlings to plant but the heat got the best of me and I got discouraged. I have little left out there besides the weeds, some more carrots if I can find them, cilantro and basil planted on the edges and cucumbers that seem to be bigger than I’d ever seen, I turned into some lazy picker. But, as I planned I fed many families with my early crop and we have potatoes left for some while yet.

Its funny how when I write about the farm or this old house I become a different person, not the girl from Long Island, not the woman that earned those degree’s, sometimes I wonder who it is that I am, as time goes by, so far away.

Maybe tomorrow, I’ll clean those smudges and that bug stuck upon my wall. Maybe tomorrow I’ll get that job and say, “How did all that time go by?” and know it had, if only by all of those wrinkles in the mirror. But tonight Fred’s trying to find why the water in the bathroom sink is now only a mere dribble.

Whose to say what tomorrow will bring?

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Truckin’ On

I’d like to report that there has been wonderful things going on that has kept me from writing or that the hope I cling to has returned but neither are the case. I have been applying for some interesting positions but like so many others I most likely will not hear a response or there is that slight chance my whole world will change and my worries will vanish.

I don’t know what to make of these tears. I’m either afraid to examine how I feel about the unknown or I realize its not worth the effort spending time with fears that will pass if I ignore them. I know all I need to do is walk through this dark valley, I’ve been here before and I will emerge again in a brighter place, as I have before. I guess I still have some hope left but I’m scraping the bottom.

I’ve reached my final tier of unemployment benefits that have been shortened by several weeks due to some sign of recovery although it is not a recovery that I can see or understand. I’ll believe it when I see a paycheck. In the meantime, I’ll keep truckin’ on.

Looking for brighter days…

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Life’s Maze

Since arriving home from Florida my days have been busy catching up in the garden trashing expired crops, harvesting new crops, and doing lots of weeding.

While I was away I continued my job search and like years past the week of the fourth of July was uneventful for work prospects. Yet I’ve search and searched since my return just in case something on one of my many job sites had gotten past me or has been posted since my return and I am left with nothing worthy of action on my part. The same jobs I’ve already applied for, the ones I don’t qualify for, and the part-time positions are all that remain.

I think about going for my master’s degree, not that the bachelor’s degree did me any good. I shopped today looking at suits and thought ‘maybe wearing one of those would get me a job.’ I didn’t buy into that although I might-should I get an interview in NYC, otherwise up here in the ‘country’ I find myself most times considered over dressed.

I often find myself running around in circles getting dizzy in the repetitiveness searching for a way to escape the maze while one day ends and another begins with no more than another sunset followed some hours later by another sunrise and I continue to search for life’s meaning and my place in it without answers, without a sense of purpose and yet another day ends and another begins and all that is left is worry about the many tomorrows that will follow.


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Ding and Helen Turn Paparazzi

The girls were having fun. Let’s just say us women hovering around fifty at the beach with our men got caught up in giggles, playing like school girls. They say laughters addicting and although we could have stopped our nonscence at anytime we let it continue for hours.

It all began when Ding spotted this Latin Lover sporting his fitted swim trunks coming out the ocean throwing back his dangling locks, bringing him to all of our attention.

Fred was quick to name him Fabio and it stuck although when he gathered a group of flabby male adolescence and began instructing a warm-up routine followed by the group jogging down the beach, he was then named Fancy Man. Although we pondered his sexual orientation and what might go on down in the secluded area of the beach one must applaud his efforts in fighting childhood obesity as the Fancy Man and his crew left our sight.

This was the perfect opportunity for Ding to head off shell collecting with camera and Chris as decoy.

There was a time when we were younger when spotting a man in a speedo the words “nasty” and “dirty” would have entered our conversation but not today. As some, people watch in airports and shopping malls conjure up stories in their minds of the life of strangers, today as a group Fabio the Fancy Man led many different lives worth our debate: artist, dishwasher, and landscaper to name a few. We also wondered if the abundantly shaped woman with the group in her oh, too small bikini was his wife.

“Here he comes.” Helen announced camera ready when Fabio with one mere jogger behind came into sight. But wait there was one more in some distance behind catching up. It was Ding running up behind them. We lost all composure.

Then with the Latin Lover Fancy Man resting peaceful a mere blanket away it was time for Ding and Helen under pretense of photoing our group captured many shots of Fabio to the point of rediculous.

Images were taken from various cameras and phones. This one captured by Helen sent to me via Facebook: Fabio sprawled out beside us.

Sometime later, Chris returned toting their bag of shells mumbling disgrutals of Ding having run off leaving him behind as she followed the trails of Fabio the Fancy Man, Ding’s Latin Lover.


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Beach Days

It looks like another beautiful day for the beach, clear blue sky and plenty of heat. I take the cloudy beach days just as well. I’ve also been known to remain on the Florida beaches in the rain. As a visitor to the Treasure Coast I find “Everyday is a beach day.” Okay, I place the exception on torrential down pours, lightning storms and God forbid hurricanes none of which are in the forecast.

Of our beach friends: Helen and Randy and Chris and Sue, Fred and I always are first to arrive and the last to leave although we are not sun worshippers quite the contrary as fair-skinned as we are we hide beneath the umbrella and I’m slathered in sunscreen only to emerge for my trips into the ocean for a swim and relief from the heat and in doing so I have quite the tan going on. Fred likes to get his color all in one day: starting with an unprotected burn he claims will turn into a great tan as a result like me he then has to hide from the sun.

I guess Sue and Chris arriving later in the day have the right idea but for me I want the whole day by the shore. Helen and Randy are sun worshipers Randy with his tropical oils and Helen with her mild SPF’s are both golden-brown and the only ones of our group who look like they really belong having mastered both the sun and the beach.

We are all New Yorker’s. Sue and Chris now permanent Floridian residence. Helen and Randy residence of both states. And Fred and I waiting and hoping to eventually be able to call the Treasure Coast home sometime down the road. We belong here close by the water. For the time being will just enjoy our trips and dream of our future.

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Traveling Through the Night

As one might guess a 1200 mile road trip with Fred would leave a story to tell.  Remembering our last trip to Florida and all of the needless hours we sat in traffic through the state of Virginia, Fred suggested we … Continue reading

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