That Was the Week That Was Four

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It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.

Totally an up and down week. As the song by Joan Baez goes - Some days are diamonds, some days are rust. For reasons I cannot explain my ex's death August 22nd really hit me this week. It began with last Monday when a trip to Taos seemed to invoke his memory at every turn. The good news is I have not had to worry about dry eyes.

On the good news side I finished two paintings I had been struggling with, the sold one of them, got half of the do before the snow flies list done, finally confronted someone about a forgotten debt (they forgot - I hadn't), gotten back into exercising, picked more raspberries, developed an outlet for left over masks and costume items, received two more of the Connie Shelton Charlie Parker mystery series, and had two pet sitting gigs come up for extra income.

On the rust side of the equation beyond the leaky eyes I wasn't careful about my low blood sugar and had a major event. Coupled with the water in the ears since swimming laps I have felt like an alien life force.

Received a copy of a letter from the lawyers reminding the judge we are still all waiting on the verdict which had  time of July per court regulations, a promise of August due to moving of the court house, and did not show up in September. Maybe that is the connection to the bad week about Marc.

I met Marc before my mother died and when she did I felt like a total orphan. It doesn't matter what age you are when your last parent dies it can happen. And because of my mobile life style with the company I and Marc both worked for home base was always my parents house. So an orphan and homeless. Marc had just bought a home in New Mexico that we visited. And in a year we were married. I have often wondered just how much of our relationship had to do with that at drift feeling of that year.

I have my own home now but that is challenged by the lawsuit and divorce or no Marc was in so many way my anchor. I feel totally lost at sea now. It hits me in huge waves. I tell myself this will pass. It seems to pass for men faster than women. Of the two men I know widowed in the last year both are in relationship. Of the women I know in the same situation none are. In fact most seem to be saying never again.

I once promised to never say never because it always got me in trouble. And realizing my need to find some solid ground and how much trouble reaching for anchors (that are sinking) has gotten me into in the past I thought I would amend my never to IF. IF I found a man of certain criteria I might be willing to consider a date. The following is a short list of the non-bargaining points:

1. No heirs and at least worth $2 million
2. An Italian villa as well as a home near here
3. A Rubicon he leaves at the airport for when he flies his jet in.
4. Loves fur kids
5. Is sober and has been for at least two decades
6. Has a good sense of humor and a childish sense of fun
7. Enjoys food, art, and intellectual conversation
8. Likes to buy me things
9. Does not consider duct tape a permanent solution to a temporary problem

Any one that thinks they could meet these requirements is welcome to apply. Warning: The screening process can be extended and difficult.

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