Dear Lou,

I am leaving this note here because it is the only way I know to reach you, if at all. I saw your interview a couple of weeks ago. To say that I was completely blindsided would be an understatement. I honestly had no idea you felt the way you did about this journal and the negative impact it has had on your life. I truly thought we were all on the same page. You were my biggest supporter, or so I thought. I would never have posted anything I thought would hurt, shame or upset any of you kids. Apparently I missed something along the way. I will not dismiss your feelings because I have always maintained that no one can tell us how we should feel or think. If you say that something I shared made you uncomfortable or upset, then I apologize. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I was going to delete Dust Bunnies, but at this point, the damage is already done. Being as until recently you were the only visitor here in years, I don’t think that any further damage can come from it. But again, that is just my opinion. The whole purpose of the journal was to keep family and friends abreast of what was going on with my own family and to serve as a record for the future. It was basically a group letter. Most of my 100 or so readers were relatives, but I eventually gained some random followers, several whom have since become what I consider personal friends. Dust Bunnies was a daily journal. There was no compensation of any kind other than the occasional comment from my readers. (The flintlocks were given to me by a black powder group that I was in at the time.) It was not a mommy blog anymore than it was a failed relationship blog or a cooking blog or a hunting blog, or a fart and burp, beer and coffee blog. It was a daily journal about my life. And yes, I mentioned my children, my (ex) husband, my job, my neighbors, and others. But it was really about me and my life at the time. I cannot erase the past or how I made you feel, but I can edit or delete the entries you find upsetting. That had always been an option while I was writing. If anyone had any objection (other than your father, who did object on occasion), to what I posted, I would edit or delete. I did so on a few occasions. I would have done so for every single one you asked me to. But that is water under the bridge now and I can only offer after the fact. I am so sorry for the way I have made you feel all these years. I only hope one day you will revisit your memories and see the good times, because there were some. You may not have had the childhood or the family you wanted, but it will always be a part of who you are and I believe that you are an amazing person. I obviously cannot take any credit for that, but I am very proud of you. I always have been and I miss you very much. Love you always, Mom ❤️

Mother of the Bride-To-Be, or My baby's not a baby any more.

I've been running like a mad woman these past few weeks helping to prepare for my youngest daughter's bridal shower and wedding.  It is the first time I've actually been able to help hands on, since two children had courthouse weddings and I was in Hawaii during the prep for the other.  (I was present for the dress and ring selection with Art and Stephanie and those memories are priceless.)
Rachel, or as many closest to the family know as Rocky, is my Mini-Me in more ways than one.  In fact, she has masqueraded as me on numerous hacks of both this Dust Bunny blog and Facebook.  My readers and followers have watched her grow up.  To her honorary cyber Aunties and Uncles, you could not be more proud of the amazing person she has grown into, or of the man that she has chosen to spend the  rest of her life with... and the cat and dog who complete their family.
Helping to plan her wedding (actually I'm just helping to make the decorations) is an honor beyond belief.  Last week we sat in her dining room with her sister Becca and Aunty Nim, and she called me Momzilla.  I fricken loved it!  Why? Because I was there and I was a part of it all.  My goals as a parent were simple.... raise my children, get them through school, prepare them for independence in the world, and entrust them into the care of another who loves them as much (almost) as I do.
I predict that I will cry at the wedding.  Don't be impressed, I cried during Lilo and Stitch.  But I know I will cry because I know how perfect this couple is for each other and I have faith that my daughter will be happy for the rest of her life with her husband John... and their cat and dog.
The only thing that could make this story any happier would be chickens.
Are baby chicks appropriate as wedding gifts?

Life's different now... (or Learning to Adult on my own)

I'm on the downslide of 50 and have only just recently taken an active role in managing my credit score.  Well, it's been a year, but it's paid off.

I'm finally in the triple digits!

Kidding.
Actually, I'm in the green.
Green is 'Good'.

I have a cute little ground floor apartment, which I share with my sister.  The utilities are all inclusive except for cable, internet and telephone.  I own my car, even though I didn't buy it.  I have a fulltime job with benefits.  I have a decent life insurance policy so in the unlikely event of my untimely death, my kids won't have to stash me in the freezer until they can get enough from a GoFundMe page to cremate me.... which is just as well since their father just posted that he was getting rid of the freezer/cryonic pet mortuary which is the only freezer my fat arse will fit in.

This is hardly how I envisioned my life as a half-centurion.  I thought I'd be working towards my retirement, when in fact I'm only one year in.  I thought I'd be playing Bingo every Monday night at the Senior Center, and having cookouts with the kids on Sundays.  Sadly, my neighbors are no longer neighbors and I found myself actually sharing living space with a few of my children and other family members for a while until I was able to make it on my own. I thought my hair would be turning silver with the man who said he wanted to watch it happen.  Instead, I watch his hair turn while he watches someone else.  Some days are easier than others to be happy for them.  

But, for all the heartache and frustration, I would not change it for the world.  Being pushed out of my nest and comfort zone forced me to forge my own way and opened doors to opportunities that would have been missed had I remained in my former situation.

So while I will stop short of saying 'Hey, thanks to falling out of love with me and breaking our wedding vows', I will admit that life is good now.

Very good!

Woman, Over 50: Explained.
(Because no stupid little quiz can really get it right.)

Since my separation and eventual divorce from my ex, I have found myself back in the social stream and exposed to just how many other fish there are out there in the sea, but I am no longer the nubile young woman I once was.  I have had a few very flattering propositions but I have also been the recipient of a stinging rejection once my true age is revealed, much the same as one might react when they discover that a vehicle has over 100,000 miles on it.  I refuse to be apologetic about my age, but I do feel I need to offer a disclaimer or warning label of sorts to prevent an  "OMG!" moment at a potential unveiling as a result of my witty charm, clever packaging and creative selfies.
For instance, there is a lot more to me than meets the eye.  Literally.  I have a double chin where once there was one.  I have more curves than I ever imagined possible, and believe me when I say they are far from seductive or alluring. Just about everything has succumbed to the gravitational pull of the earth... my gluteus maximus, the skin around my eyes, and even my once proud and perky twins have fallen to the passage of time. My biceps have relocated to the underside of my arm and my muffin top is sagging.  Tiger stripes are the new stretch marks?  Please! They are called strength marks, and I proudly bear them as testament of motherhood and a life that has at times stretched me to my limits but has never broken me.  I jiggle when I walk, and I've developed an annoying little snort when I laugh.
I'm rude, I'm crude. I'm facetious and flirtatious yet awkwardly shy at the worst of times.  I run through life because life is too short, but I make frequent stops because I don't want to miss anything.  I lose my temper quickly and often but forgive or apologize just as quickly, because seriously, life is too short.  Women like me tend to be candid but compassionate because that "Been there, done that"  look etched on our faces is genuine.  If our ferocity contradicts our vulnerability, it is not hypocrisy but mere facets in our personalities that have developed over decades of conflict and coping. If we have convictions, they come from experience. Please respect them.
I'm not a flower, I'm not a song. I'm not a 70's Sit Com mom or an aura color.  I'm not on the down slide of life or out to pasture.  Every change in my body and personality, I proudly display like a combat stripe. I agree it could be packaged better, but I won't put myself through torturous routines to better fit someone else's image of how I should look or act at this age.
I believe that it's perfectly okay to be 50+ and happy, without apology, so consider yourself warned.  ;)

On fear, courage and dog shit.

People often mistake my avoidance of love and relationships as fear. It is possible to avoid something without being afraid of it. I am not afraid of dog shit, but I'm not going to pick some up and hug it just to prove my courage. 

In the mean time, some of my most courageous acts go unnoticed. Most folk have no idea how brave I really am. Bravery is not determined by your strength, but by your resolve to continue despite your challenges. That's just as well because in regards to my strength, I fear even I have over estimated it. 

YES (Lost in translation)

It's kind of funny how words and thoughts change in the short distance between the brain and mouth. It's like magic. I hear a question. I process it and speak. Then, even as the words are forming, they become what everyone wants to hear rather than what I really feel.
Self-censorship, keeping the peace for centuries. 
I wouldn't know how to act around someone who really wanted to know~

Hurricane Iselle, (or Want some avocados?)

Hurricane Iselle steamed past the island, showering me with a little bit of rain blown around by a little bit of wind. We prepared for the worst. 
And the worst was....?
The worst was that we harvested the avocado tree so we wouldn't lose the fruit to the cyclone, and now we have approximately 100 avocados of various sizes and ripeness laying around the house, and yard, and deck.
I fear people will start avoiding us because we keep trying to pawn avocados off on to them. 
Looks like I'll be making a bunch of guacamole. 

Monday Funday. (or "Bartender, one more round!")

I almost got hit by a car today. Ironically that would not have been the worst thing that happened to me today. I'm not trying to play the victim here. Life happens, and I've been playing the game for almost 54 years. I just thought it would get easier with time.
Nope, it still hurts like hell.

BLEH~ (or What the hell is the matter THIS time?)

I've been feeling unusually weepy lately. I don't know why. Maybe it's hormonal. Maybe it's because I am slowly exsanguinating during one of my last indignities of womanhood.
It is an empty feeling. All wound up and no release. The anti-climax. The ultimate let down.
The nothingness~
Perhaps stabbing a raw steak will make me feel better.
😕

MAIL CALL

I just got a letter from my daughter. Not an email, or a text message. Not a private message online but a real pen and paper, stamp on the envelope, air mail USPS letter!
I had forgotten how good ink on paper smells.
Totally made my weekend!

A Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Waste. (Or Bored)

I have way too much time on my hands and way too little motivation.
That is a dangerous combination. My mind must find ways to entertain itself.
Enter, my imagination.
Imagination, left to its own devices, can be a wonderful thing.
Or not.
There is just no knowing, until it's too late.

Because someone asked. (But you don't really want to know)

No, life isn't always fun and I do not laugh at everything.

I laugh because it does no good to cry.

I am not optimistic.

I just refuse to be over come by the darkness.

I am not inspirational.

I am weak and desperate, but willing to try anything to fix things.

I am not a good person.

I am the product of consequences.

And I am bitter because not all of the choices were mine.

I cannot change. I can only keep moving forward,

And hope that one day I can be the person other people see in me.

For now it is just a mask, an echo.

No, this is not me, and life is not fun at all.

THE LIFE OF LEISURE, or Will something hurry up and happen?

I've been back for almost 2 months now and I find myself stagnating in the same rut I was in before.  So much is simmering in the background but nothing worth bringing to the table yet.  My non-existent patience is being put through a serious test, and I may be failing.
One day this will all make sense.
I'll still be quite daft, but perhaps folks will understand better why.
I hate that people look at me and see a weak person.  They don't know how hard it is to be this way. They see a person without ambition but I have stayed the course above all else.
In the meantime I find myself staring at a bottle of rum on a regular basis.  That it has lasted this long is a testament to my willpower, feeble as it may be.  What matters most is that it is stronger than my patience at this point.  That may not always be the case.
One day I will tell my story.  I will shout it out to anyone who will listen.  I will set the record straight, even if just in the form of an epitaph.  The truth will be known.
But not tonight.
Tonight I think my willpower will take a back seat.

WHEN I GROW UP or What the hell happened?

Looking back to my childhood, I clearly remember people telling me "You can be anything you want to be when you grow up."  Those words were inspiring and motivating.
Yet here I sit now and I am pretty sure that at no time did I ever express the desire to be a fat old lady when I grew up!
Time to regroup~

Cleanse, because diarrhea is such an ugly word.

I've been reading up on break-thru miracle diets from time to time, just to motivate myself to finally losing all this extra poundage once and for all.  The latest is, of course, the cleanse.  It sounds good in theory, but then when you put all their fancy adjectives through a reality filter, what they're saying is a clear as day.
Diarrhea.
They want you to take their product (pills, drinks, elixir), which will give you the runs, and then you will 'flush' (their word, not mine) those pounds away.
Look... I've been sick before.  I've had those wonderful, highly contagious gastrointestinal bugs that leave a tender seat sore on your bum from frequent visits to the loo.  And yes, I have lost weight very quickly during that time, but it is somewhat painful, very inconvenient and highly embarrassing.
Why on earth would I bring that upon myself voluntarily?
And of course those pounds just work their way back on once you start feeling better and you exports solidify.
So while I agree with the theory behind their miracle weight loss program, I think I will pass. 
If I had known that it would be so hard to get the weight off, I never would have let myself indulge in all those extra calories all those years.
Yeah right!
Just show me a weight loss program where I don't have to exercise, don't have to starve, don't have to eat expensive tasteless vegetables and don't have to spend my days and nights sitting on the toilet. 
Sign me up, I'm in!

Alzheimer's meets Old Timer's

Mama has Alzheimer's Disease.  She suffers from short term memory loss.  In other words, she can do something, step away for a moment and when she turns back a mere minute later she will probably have forgotten completely about what she had just done.  She and my dad now enjoy a Hobbit's meal routine of first and second breakfasts, followed closely by first and second lunches, a snack or two, dinner and supper and then they finish off the day with a midnight snack, or two... or three.
I also suffer from memory loss, but mine is due to Old Timers Disease.  Or maybe it is a syndrome.  Lets see, a disease is an ailment or condition with a known cause.  A syndrome is is a condition or symptoms with no known cause. Well, I know the cause, it's 'cause I'm old!  My brain has been figuring and conniving for precisely 19,509 days... not including the days spent trying to figure out how to get out of my Mama's uterus.  That's a long time to be processing information.  Even machines eventually wear down.  Most retailers only offer a 15 day return policy and a 3 year warranty on computers so I think 19,509 is pretty darn good.  Now, where was I?
Ah yes, I have Old Timers Disease.  My memory loss is more designer in nature~ I might forget to wash the dishes, but I will never forget to turn the TV on for my ball game.  I may stare blankly at you when you reminisce about something from our past that did not end well for me, but I sure as Sunday will remember every detail of something blackmail worthy from your past.
I cannot even begin to imagine the frustration my father must feel on a daily basis.  Mama doesn't remember and I don't care.  On the plus side, he eats very well.  He just might have to eat alone because Mama likes to nap after she cooks, and I like to nap, period.
Sometimes I wonder, with this 19,509 day old brain of mine, that perhaps being an old timer isn't so bad after all.  If it's worth remembering, I will.  If I forget 19,508 of those days, you can bet that the one day I remember will be a doozie!  Perhaps I will tell Mama about it, and she may laugh for as long as she can remember, and then I will tell her again.
And dad will just sit quietly in his corner, nibbling on his third pizza or fourth sandwich.
This is compatibility at it's finest.

Miss Euna Lee

This is Euna.  The name is listed as Hopi (remember); Celtic (hunger, lamb, one);  Korean (silver); and Greek (good victory). When we first heard of the name before Rebecca knew what the sex of her baby was, we were under the impression that it meant 'hunger' and immediately fell in love with the name.  Now that Euna is born and her personality is developing I am under the impression that the name, with all of its definitions and interpretations, is perfect for her.
Sadly for me, after 2 1/2 months of being a hands-on grandmother, I had to say goodbye to my sweet little Euna.  I miss her and my grandsons, maybe even more than I miss my own children.  Is that wrong?  I think it's because, now that my children are older, they no longer need me in the same capacity as before.  With my grandchildren I felt like I was instrumental in their day, that I had something more important to offer than just company.  My kids no longer look to me as a teacher and lets face it, there are only so many times that you can steal a person's nose before they get on to you.  When your children grow beyond the need of 'mommy magic', then it is time to incorporate 'grandmother magic'.  I thrive on it, but am removed from all right now.
That is okay though, because I am, as I am so fond of stating, exactly where I need to be at this very moment.  Its time to work a little 'daughter magic' for my mother now.
I wonder if she remembers the 'I've got your nose' trick?

Where has the time gone?

It has been almost a year since I announced that I was going to dust off this blog.  This is my first entry since that announcement, and yet so much has happened.  One of my grandsons and step-grandson have moved to Colorado to stay with my son Gabe for a while.  They stayed with us for a short while when Gabe was deployed in Iraq.  It is so nice to have them back again, I missed them more than I had realized.
My daughter Rebecca is now a mother to a beautiful daughter named Euna who was born on Halloween morning 2013.  It is oddly appropriate.
I suppose the biggest change though, is my situation.  I resigned from my job at the Air Force Academy Shoppette and have moved to Hawaii to help my dad care for my mother who is in the early stages of Alzheimer's Syndrome.  I have been here off and on since mid July.  Ironically, all of the misfortune that I encountered over the past few years; my separation from my husband, having to move from the apartment I was sharing with my son to make room for his new family, being fired from a job that I loved~ having all those incidents unknowingly remove obstacles and commitments from my way so that I could make this move without hesitation.
I am exactly where I need to be.
And perhaps this will give me the time and space I need to find out what I plan on doing with the rest of my life.
For starters, I need to learn how to manage this blog all over again.  Pictures to follow once I figure out how to add them.
And you'd think after all this time, they'd have added more fonts and a back dating feature.
Oh well, lets see how well this old dog will take to new tricks.

HANAFUDA

...because someone has to carry on the tradition of cheating at cards.

     Time once again to dust off this dusty old blog.  I am about to embark on an adventure unlike any I have ever experienced before in my 5+ decades here on this earth.  In July I shall return to my parents home and help them out.  At least that is my intention.

     My mother has been diagnosed with the beginning stages of Alzheimer's disease.  From what I understand she has been having a series of mini-strokes and has small vessel disease. I have no idea what it means.  The answer is, in this day and age, a few finger strokes away on my computer but all in good time.

     I remember when with the decline of my grandparents' health, during which time my mother was a primary caregiver, she implored us (my siblings and I) never to abandon her to a nursing home.  After going through the heartache and hardship of caring for her parents she had a change of heart, wishing not to impose on her children and put them through what she went through.  The truth is that as difficult as it was for her, she would do it all again given the opportunity.

     Which brings me to my new adventure.  Over the past few years I have been whining and moaning about how unfortunate my life has been, but these misfortunes have made it possible for me to be there for my Mother, and to relieve the stress on my Father and Brother, so in the broader picture I can only be thankful that things have turned out the way they have to allow me the freedom of this venture.

     The fact that I will be living once again in such a wonderful land full of amazing music, delicious foods and in the company of my fabulous family, is icing on the cake.  

     I only hope that I can make a positive difference~