Thursday, January 31, 2019

A little less ... horrible?

I posted this on r/widowers today.   I knew I had to get the bed cleared off so I could get the suitcases down.  That meant all the paperwork and lists I was ignoring in the cat bed got sorted.  Some got tossed or shredded, some filed, some addressed and taken care of.  I need to fax a death certificate to the DMV.  This makes me unreasonably sad, but not enough for me to lose it.  We shall see.

What witchcraft is this? I am not sure, but this day ... I am lonely, I've wept and teared up a number of times, I talked to his photo a few times, I miss him and am distraught. Nothing new, except this tiny lessening of ... anguish? A lifting of the edge of the blanket of horror? Feeling a little less gutted? I'd almost dare call it a return to ... something not a nightmare. Not happiness or optimism, but not so crushed. A fraction less broken. I haven't got a clue. It is Mom's birthday, she passed in 2005, so I've been thinking about her too. More sunshine and warmer temperatures? In the 50s, chilly, but not freezing. I got three of MyLarry's drawers emptied, but didn't wail over his shirts. Moped is more like it. Yesterday I got the suitcases down and sorted. I didn't lose it hard over his Santa Suit bag, which was a surprise, because Santa Rampage in Vegas is a cherished ritual for us. I got leaky, but it didn't knock me out. My bags are initially packed for the anniversary trip next week. There's a minefield; we had a lovely trip to Cancun in 2012 and I booked this trip last year. I'm anxious. I don't want to cry on the plane. But the dread is pretty well balanced with anticipation. Again, I'm surprised.
I met my future new kittens which are being fostered by my neighbor today. Came home and told the surrogate stuffed animal on his pillow all about the itty bitty house panther and the tiny tux. Maybe that's it. Kittens.
I do not trust this uptick in the slightest. And I'm still broken; I sat and watched hours of Third Rock from the Sun. And that's okay.

Tuesday, January 29, 2019

Jam and tears.

Well, I am doing mostly partly okay.  Mostly Partly was an in joke for Larry and I after watching an English dubbed Japanese weather report where the pretty young woman told us the peninsula was going to be "mostly partly cloudy" for the weekend.

Fire Tribe continues to go well, people are kind and caring.  I got cracked good on the top of the skull when a fire sword (unlit) flew out of 3's hand and the counter-weighted handle knob thunked me solidly as I was bending over.  Down I went.  Ouch. 

Made fudge.  Everyone in Tribe loved my fudge, it is spectacular.  I have a ton of fudge making supplies, as Larry had stocked up for the winter season during the summer sales.  I do not cry into the fudge, it isn't sanitary.

A sunny day means I went out and swept the leaves up off the patio.  They had been bugging me, and I know Larry would disapprove.  The garage and patio roofs are filled with mucky leaves, those need to come off.  They decompose and make shingle and tar paper destroying mud.

Painting a little.  That's good.  Need to vacuum.  Yuck.  I chip away at chores.  The need to keep up and win Larry's approval, or the memory of approval, keeping up my end of the partnership, has declined.  I still want a clean comfy home, and it is neither right now.

A group I am in has daily sharing posts, usually photo based.  Today was "what's in your fridge".  Someone spotted my jars and asked if that were homemade jam.  No, one is the old cranberry sauce I made which was in the freezer in the basement, and one the blueberry sauce I had just made.  Larry made jam, wonderful raspberry jam from the berries on our canes.  He didn't make any this year, of course, although we had stocked up on jars and pectin in the spring.  I make great sauces and chutneys, but have always failed at jam.  I suppose it is time to learn to make jam.  I will not cry into the jam either.  But I might weep a little over my breakfast toast next autumn.


Tuesday, January 22, 2019

The Endless Spin

Ah, birthdays.  I am now 62. Sixty fucking two.  I should not be alone at this point in my life.  But here I am, solo, solitary, just me.

Desi and I went for massages on Friday evening, 90 minute instead of 60.  The lavender sugar foot scrub was included as a gift.  Nice.  I finally got someone who would massage my scalp, ahhhh.  Saturday evening, Desi made a birthday dinner for me and Adam/Eve, a scrumptious white chicken chili.  We dropped by Ocean Mart and I got a couple of those super soft floofy buns for my treat.  Desi gave me a bag of Earl Grey Lavender Milk tea packets as my gift.  So nice for winter.   Still, both mornings were pretty awful.  I couldn't help thinking about all our winter trips for my birthday.  Hawaii, and last year we were in San Francisco.  Damn.  I loved traveling with Larry, we'd cuddle up on the plane, he'd make sure he carried my bags, and all the wonderful things we did together.  I am fortunate we had that time together, but I am crushed we will be missing out on so many years going forward. 

Sunday was Fire Tribe, Jason PinkHair drove me down.  Good to see everyone, but there's still a bit of weird awkwardness going on.  I will address the tribe next time, smooth things out.  This morning I  got two beach bags of Larry's t-shirts ready to go, so everyone who wants one can take one.  Tribe shirts, Burning Man shirts, Elememt 11 shirts, weird shirts, interesting shirts, tourist shirts.  Better then sending them off to the thrift shop.  I saved out the orange fire tribe shirt to take to the E-11 temple. 

Monday was a terrible snow day. I also had a Very Bad Day.  Far too much crying.  Missing him is painful, hard work.  Just horrible.  All I can do is hold on and ride it through. 

I finally got all the Christmas things put away, including the bins in the truncated downstairs hall, and the tree out in the shed.  I even got it up into the loft.  I took the two bins with the autumn silk flowers out to the shed too, they're very lightweight.  Also adulted with a couple financial phone calls. 

Someone took my trash cans to the curb.  The garbageman was putting the recycle bin back together, I guess one of the wheels fell off.  He gave me a card to call about the big green waste can, its handle is broken and it really is falling apart.  We'll see if I get a new one or not.

There is not a single day which goes by without tears at some point.  Argh.  

Wednesday, January 16, 2019

That went well

Sunday evening was the first fire tribe meeting of the season.  Larry's passing had a huge effect on the group, and we were sorely missed.  Everyone was gracious at the meeting, welcoming, although I could tell a few folks were tiptoeing around me.  I will address the group as soon as some of the new flash in the pans have departed.  I distributed a few tiny vials of Larry's ashes.  Found a penny.  Resolved my ride dilemna.

Spent the night at the DownLow.  Good to see people, but damn, I am fussy about where I roost.  No window coverings meant a lot of ambient light which means a restless night.  The FrontRunner ride home was pleasant.  I walked over to Pig and a Jelly Jar, had beignets and coffee.  Only customer, so lot of chatty chat with the servers.  One is a burner.

Still have not put away the Christmas decor.  Working on it.  Slowly.  So. Slowly.

Errands loom.  It is snowy and slick outside.  Yuck.  I may try for tomorrow for notarizing and faxing.  It is the last big adulting before I tackle Affidavit of Survivorship, a new will, and taxes.  Death and taxes, eh? 

I ordered little keepsake urns.  While I will scatter Larry's ashes, I do want to keep some.  Well, not scatter.  One packet will go to the E-11 temple, a larger portion to the Burning Man temple, and a small packet to be set to sail at sea.  It will be nice to have a little urn.  Lonny can have it if he likes after I die someday.   A set of four urns was the same prive as two, so there is one for me, one for Jeremy, one for Desi, and one for Nate.  Feels right.  I have to admit, handling cremains is weird as hell.  They are not all floof, they are crunchy and gritty, with obvious bits of bone.  So weird.


Saturday, January 12, 2019

The glimpses and glimmers

I've been taking down the Christmas decorations.  Such a slow process when my heart is not in it.  I keep taking detours, like binge watching 3rd Rock from the Sun. 

I decided that since my hall was not going to get new baseboards and a paint job anytime soon, that I may as well hang up my prints and art instead of having it languish under the work room table.  I have a lot more art than I have walls, but I am working on it.  It cheered me up a great deal to see the walls bursting with color, shape, and line.  After climbing up and down the step stool for a couple hours, because I had to swap pictures in the bedroom, front room, and bathroom to make this happen, I was physically sore and quite exhausted.  That means better sleep.

Planning for the Cancun trip has begin in earnest.  My feelings are a weird mixture of excited anticipation and nostalgic tears.  Honey is going with me, and is very excited.  She has never been to Mexico.  So far I have booked a half day trip to Tulum, and a pirate ship booze cruise.  Chichen Itza must wait until we get there to book a tour.  This should be fun, even if I will be sad and tearful at some point each day.  I am even taking the teddy bears with me.  Mr. Whiskers the Monkey visited all the sites with Larry and I, so he will most assuredly go too.  I will bring a photo of Larry to sit next to the bed too.





Tuesday, January 8, 2019

Still winter

I can't find the ice melt or the salt.  Damn, Larry.  Where is it?

Snow and ice and freezing temps outside.  I go out and shove the snow around, but I can only do so much.  There is only so much to do.  Dallas came by and helped a little, cleared the low patio gutter, pinned up the fence lattice.  He took the snowblower, which will be payment for yardwork.  It is a really nice one which used to belong to my dad.  Larry had to fix it when we got it, Marvin had wedged a rock in the auger and broke it.  It is too big for me to handle, and without a sidewalk, I have little use for it. Dallas can use it to earn money.  It works for all of us this way.

I am much more up and down now.  My highs are higher, I want to get on with life.  Not find a new partner, but to make art, get the house squared away, go out and about.  But then someone who has just learned of Larry's passing gets in touch, and I crash back to the horrible first days.  Or I realize that he is truly gone, and I just lose it because I miss him so much.  There is no equilibrium. 

Old projects include Graidawg's leather tool roll, the faux fur coat, mending and hemming and patches.  So much sewing.  Newer items are fix the leaf sucker bag.  Get all the Christmas stuff put away.  Decide if I will make pillows from Larry's t-shirts or buy a naked boyfriend pillow and dress it it up.  I want to get my pictures back up as the hall is now never going to be remodeled and repainted.

I've done a little sorting.  A very little, but bit by bit helps.

Most of the tos I bought for myself have arrived.  A Loki, a Deadpool dressed as Bob Ross, a little Sir Thomas Sharpe, the Sister Margaret sign.  I do love my little toys.

And my snow boots leak.  That's no good.



Thursday, January 3, 2019

Cosmetic sunshine

The sun has been bright the last two days, and this helps me a great deal.  However, it is "cosmetic sunshine", the temperatures are still in the 20s and everything is so frozen. 

I went into the backyard and tried to reassemble the makeshift rain barrel cover for the larger one behind the house.  I might try to sew together all those old truck curtains rather than buying a whole new cover.  The big smoker covers run $30 or more.  We'll see.  right now they're encrusted with ice. 

I picked up a lot of down twigs, and was surprised to see the squirrel was out and about.  I took down the little feeder some time ago; so I half filled it and hung it up.  He picks through the sunflower seeds to get to the peanuts, but the magpies eat the seeds which fall.  I can't find the suet blocks, not sure if we actually have any. 

There are drifts of leaves on the patio and against the steps, and under the trailer ramp.  I know Larry would hate that. I may go back out this afternoon and see if I can get some of them into the trash can.  The yard tub I would normally use is all full of twigs for the firepit.  I can't run a fire because the air quality is moderate, and it will get bad fast.  No open fires.

And I need to fill the coffee canister with ice melt. 

It all makes me teary eyed.  These are Larry chores which he loved doing.  Me?  Not so much. 

I haven't have my light box on, because it is at the art table.  I haven't been making art, so I'm short on light.  Going outside helped, but I really need an hour or two in front of my artificial sunlight on the darker days.  And I need to take my multi-vitamin for the Bs.  Without Bs, I get sad.  Sadder?

My attention this morning was taken up with Larry's genealogy.  Very German, of course, but also English, Irish, and some Scots.  Tales of boys kidnapped by Indians, indentured servants, German soldiers who deserted, and what looks to be old family colonialists.  Interesting. 

My DNA results tell me I am both a Viking and a Wild-Eyed Scot.  Whoot.  Still, I'm mostly English and Welch, and a bit German, and a teensy bit Finnish.