WHAT IS IMPORTANT ABOUT BELONGINGS?

PREFACE

The story of my life is that I have very few things that spark strong memory. I have lost so many "things" through my life from mostly moving. My collection of things gets smaller and smaller every time I move these days. 

STORY

At one time, I had ONLY what I was carrying on my back, in a backpack, with my sleeping bag lashed to it! (1980) I had left a box with my brother of just keepsakes and took off hitchhiking from the Eastern Shore of Maryland to Tampa, FL. I was 24. I don't even remember if I ever got that box back from Jimmy. I walked away from my first marriage, my first house, my first love (?). We had met when I was 13 and practically lived at the skating rink. He was a floor guard and 5 years older. When we got back together, after my mom died and I left my dad's house at 17, I was pregnant. I had turned 18, he lived with his mother, supporting her, and I moved in, much to her disapproval. I gave up that child for adoption and for a prospect of a better life. I worked to get a house built and to move out of his mother's house. I established my first household at 19, all on my own (with my new husband). A year and a half later, I left him, took half of everything and moved into a trailer. I wanted children, he never would.

I moved a few times before ending up in a mobile home. When things got real bad (no money, no heat @ Christmas), my boyfriend and I sold my pickup, bought "on the road" equipment from Army/Navy and headed to Tampa, Florida, to his sister's place. Only what we could carry on our backs and light weight was imperative. We didn't go for the sub-zero lining because it weighed too much! When we camped on the side of a mountain, in 29 degrees, in January, I re-thought that decision.

I collected many, many things after meeting and marrying George. His parents died within a year of moving and consolidating their North and South homes. We inherited two households! They were combined with the household I had set up in my deceased parents home, which had also absorbed my father's warehouse contents after he passed. I was living in a tri-level house, 4 BR, 2 1/2 baths, double garage with 4 complete households. There were aisles to get from the front door to the kitchen, MBR, and upstairs. The stuff was piled so high you couldn't see over it! It was like living in a furniture store! So I have lived in THAT, and I've had only what I could carry on my back. 

After many yard sales, and moving 4 times in 3 years, we settled in a townhouse (3BR/2.5B) and lived there for 19 years. Then I became a widow. My child grew up and moved out to start their own life. Then I moved into my sister's and had to whittle down my belongings (storing an eighth of what I had) and then moved a year later, into a 3BR/2B with a single garage. I got to empty my storage unit! I inherited the former resident's furniture, clothes, kitchen, and folded in my few belongings left. I made my home there for 5 years. Then I had to leave because the owner went into foreclosure, and again I had to consolidate, donate, and sell. I had two weeks to consolidate what I couldn't donate or sell. I once again used a storage unit for the antiques, important papers, my artwork, collectibles and as much as I could save and fit into that unit. It stayed there for 8 YEARS! I only visited it half a dozen times. I DIDN'T NEED THAT STUFF! I moved in with my sister again. I've lived in her converted garage since April 2014. I only emptied my storage unit in Feb 2022. I folded in what I could into my room, some in the shed, and some in the empty stall in the barn. 

CONCLUSION

I am trying to go through all of it, get rid of some by donating or trashing. It's very hard to let go of things you have lived with for 30 or 40 years. Things you have dusted and filled and emptied and moved so many times that they are integrated into your daily life. This last purge was VERY HARD for me because there was an traumatic incident that prevented me from getting all the things that I wanted to save. It was like a flood came and took them away. But belongings don't matter, as long as you have people (and cats) who love you.

TUESDAY, MEETING DAY

 PREFACE

My sister is in two groups which have meetings regularly. I don't join clubs or groups or associations. I'm not a joiner. I hate things done by committee. I had to be IN some groups due to my job as a teacher/instructor but I wouldn't have invited most of the members to my home, or been friends with them if I hadn't had to. It's not like I haven't tried some groups willingly.

STORY

Before I had my incident causing PTSD, depression and anxiety, I could minge with the best of them. I have always been "shy" but made myself overcome that so I didn't get pushed around. I stood up for myself. I gave class reports. I took public speaking which helped when I became a Boy Scout Leader, a Webelos Leader, and eventually, The Cub Scout Pack Leader. I got the BEST leadership training in the Boy Scouts. All this prepared me for being a college instructor/professor. I could stand up in front of 15-30 students and lecture. I could stand up in front of a whole gathering of professors at meetings. I still didn't like to but I COULD. 

Back to joining groups. I never liked not being the leader in groups. I also didn't like the responsibility of having to lead and make all the decisions in a group. I've been an artist all my life but I can't deal with artist groups. I think it's maybe because I think that most of the other artists are really full of themselves. And there are so many people out there that if given a little bit of power, they let it go to their heads and spoil everything for everyone else.

CONCLUSION

Now that I have anxiety about groups (along with PTSD), it will be a long time (if ever) before I will consider joining any group or club or guild. Although I am in a "guild" in my online game and I chat with people from all over the country and the world. I don't have to be in the same room with them though, and that makes all the difference. We cope how we cope.

MONDAY, WHAT DID I DO?

 PREFACE

One of the advantages to being retired is that no one expects anything of you. You don't have to set an alarm to get up. You don't have a job, coworkers, and a boss waiting for you to be a specific place, at a specific time. Retired means you've done your work (for the MAN) and you're done. It also means that if you aren't careful, you forget what day it is, or worse, what you did on any specific day!

STORY

It is actually Thursday morning, EARLY! 4:23 a.m. when I'm writing this post. I unceremoniously promised myself (in my  head) that I would try to post once a day for the entire month of April (2023). That lasted two days! Now I'm trying to think back to Monday and what the f*ck I did all day. I do remember getting Chick-fil-A salads for Toni and me for dinner (since they are cancelling my side salad that I get all the time on April 4th!). I got 4 side salads to last two nights, just in case I didn't get back before they were gone for good! This happens all the time to me.

I have had so many products that I LOVED cancelled on me through the years that I'm just shell-shocked about it. The BEST laundry detergent, YES, was pulled off shelves or sold out and not reordered until I could only get it at Albertson's (the last bastion for misfit products). This detergent could get stains out even if the clothes had been washed and dried! Put a little on, let sit, then wash & dry...stain(s) gone! Small Miracle shampoo & conditioner was THE BEST HAIR PRODUCTS...EVER! Maidenform underwire bras...the best! Off the market! Glamour Chantilly underwire bras...the best! Off the market! Avenue brand underwire bras...the best! Off the market! There are others that I can't think of at the moment, but each time it's been one product that I LOVE and fits my needs perfectly. WTF?

CONCLUSION

WTF? It's the Damn Marketing People that change things just to change them. They fix things that don't need fixing so companies can charge more money. Dawn Dishwashing Detergent has been around for 40 years and is an excellent degreaser. They use it to clean wildlife when there's an oil spill! It's gentle. You don't need to use a lot to get the job done. It's cheap. So what to they do? They make it stronger at cutting grease...WHAT?? Now you only need half as much to do the same job (I cut it with water 50/50!) Not good enough for them, let's make it FOAM!! NO! How about turning the bottle upside-down?? NO!! It's not ketchup! It runs fairly quickly when you turn it upside-down. There is no need to change it's bottle, it's fragrance, it's form (foam!), or it's concentration. IT WORKS IN IT'S ORIGINAL FORMULA JUST FINE! If they would only stop changing things just to substantiate their jobs!! RANT OVER!

MAXIMUM DENSITY

 PREFACE

I am as heavy as I have ever been in my life. 250 lbs. It is insidious. The weight has crepted up and crepted up over the past 9 years until it has gotten intolerable. This is the line! No more! It stops HERE!

STORY 

In 2009, I weighed 180 lbs and was in fantastic shape. Yes, I could have lost another 20 lbs and been very close to perfect. But that 20 lbs didn't look like it was on me. I carried it very well. I was desirable at 51 yo. 

THAT was 70 lbs ago and it seems like unattainable at the moment. I'm 66, soon to be 67 in September and I look like my grandmother. She was short and chubby. My aunt, who lived with my grandparents and then with my mother and me after they passed, was very tall and chubby. Most of my relatives are chubby. That is why I'm not surprised that I look like a lot of them did while I was a child and growing up. My genetics say I should be zaftig, Rubenesque...plump. My ancestors come from Ireland, Scotland, and England. When I visited England in 2003, I saw many people who looked like my relatives! I'm HOME! I thought. I felt I fit in. 

I'm heavier now. I don't fit in to anything. Tipping the scales at 250 lbs pushes the structural strength of my bras and the comfort of wearing them. I wear maxi dresses around the house to hide the bulk of my body. It's lulled me into accepting the extra weight and the shifting of skin and fat. It lets me use the excuse (to myself) that I don't have to go out into the world, everything I need can be brought to me or picked up without "going into the store to get it." Since the pandemic made all of us more "hermits" than "gad about town social butterflies," I haven't recovered my desire to venture forth and explore. 

I have also not exercised regularly in quite a while. I get up from bed. Sit at my desk working on my laptop (or descending down the rabbit hole that is the Internet time suck!). Get up to make my smoothie (Breakfast & Lunch & supplements). Back on the computer. Get up to move to the TV room. Make dinner or order dinner & drive to pick it up. Play games on my Kindle while watching TV. Go to bed & play more games until the Kindle falls on my nose cuz I'm asleep somewhere around 3, 4, 5 am in the morning. Sleep until noon, 1, 2 pm and get up to do it all over again.  

CONCLUSION

My grandmother, Sadie Insley, (Gram or Grammy) was in better shape than I am now. She got up at 5 am (from years of living with a Merchant Marine & fisherman) and made coffee and started cooking. She cooked all day, off and on, when she wasn't washing clothes, hanging them to dry, tending the garden and harvesting, then entertaining the family that passed through her doors all day, every day. 

There's just me and my sister, and 3 cats and 2 horses that need tending. Toni hires a man to feed and clean stalls in the morning (early...earlier than she is willing to get up now that she's 75!). Feeding the cats in the morning and at night, 2 of the kittahs are still kittens so they eat whenever they are hungry and we can get them to eat something! It's not a whole lot to do. It's so hot that outside is taken at dusk and dawn, in small bites (for exercise). But I soon must take my losing weight seriously, lest I have some health problem that I can't "correct" and have to live with much less that I CAN do than I now just don't WANT to do. One step at a time!

I HATE SHOPPING! I NEED MORE BANANAS!

  PREFACE

Grocery shopping is the one shopping I hate most. But any shopping that entails me going to a place, parking, walking in, walking around until I find the thing(s) I want/need, taking them to the register, walking back to the car. Driving home. Then taking my purchases in the house and putting them away. WAY TOO MUCH WORK!

STORY

There are two kinds of people, hunters and gatherers. It is said (taught) that these life chores were divided between the men and women of the tribe in prehistoric times. Men hunted. Women gathered. Men brought home the meat, fowl, or fish. Women brought home the side dishes; fruits, nuts, vegetables, and grains(?). It is said that prehistoric people didn't eat grains until farming was introduced, and that was when ailments/illnesses began. I'm not here to debate that.

I would like to know definitively if ONLY men hunted. Were there women that didn't want to gather. They didn't want to forage around going through countless choices until they found just what they wanted (usually the first thing they looked at!). Women that saw what they wanted, chased it, killed it, and brought it home! They walked in the cave, threw it down in front of their man & grunted, "cook!" And of course, the man had been waiting there with the kids, cleaning the cave, and telling the stories of our people. (HA!) 

I have never understood the "shopping" ritual. When I went to the "Mall," I would park as close to the store I wanted something from, walk in, find it (kill it), buy it, go back to my car and drive home. I didn't roam around the store for hours, buying nothing. Going to another store and roaming around. Wandering the Mall in a zombie stupor, buying Fro-Yo, having my ears pierced, and then coming home with the ONE thing I wanted/needed!

CONCLUSION

When the Internet introduced "online shopping" I had found my Nirvana. You mean to say I can sit at home, look for what I want/need, order it, and it will come to my front door! This is heaven! 

Now I hunt online. No one can judge me. No one can tell me I should look around a while and see what I might want to buy that I didn't even know I wanted. The hunted items lay down in front of my door and wait for me to retrieve them. Life is good.

Time to order groceries! I need more bananas! Death to the Malls!

ESTRANGED

 PREFACE

I never thought I would ever be someone with which the word ESTRANGED would be associated. But since my child blocked me on Facebook and refuses to answer any of the messages I send to her phone, then SHE is estranged from me. My daughter is a trans woman since 2019.

STORY

On September 26th, 2021, my child posted to Facebook that I had broken her trust in commenting something that reminded her that I had not seen her in 3 years. The post wasn't even to her but in answer to a friend of mine of "Happy Birthday" (not really knowing whether it was to me or to Ilde, my daughter) who had commented that to Ilde's post. I had made the original post about Happy Daughter's Day to Ilde. Then my friend commented "HBD" and I commented back to her that it wasn't Ilde's birthday and that I missed her so much since I hadn't seen her in 3 years. This was all between me and my friend. Ilde flared up at me that that sort of comment was what she had specifically told me NOT to say. She then proceeded to rant on everything I had done wrong in her childhood and young adulthood (many recollections were just wrong!) and then she blocked me on Facebook! This was 2 days before my 65th birthday. It was a gut punch. Everybody that I showed or told about the rant was shocked. 

I have been messaging Ilde at the beginning of every month since without response. I want her to know that whatever is between us, I still love her. I try to act like none of this happened and send her news of what is happening in my life and her family's lives. She had already cut her cousin & his family out of her life, along with saying to me that I caused my late husband's family to ignore or reject her. Which is very confusing because they rejected me after my husband died in 2002 and have only peripherally responded to some of my posts on FB. I didn't do anything to deserve that treatment except not being a Pinsker by blood. Ilde is!  

CONCLUSION

I'm still so confused as to what happened. And not having an opportunity to talk it out has made it ten times worse. Christmas 2018, my son, Ian, came to visit from Wisconsin to south Florida (which is where he was born) and there was no indication that he had a conflict of identity. Within the next year, he came out as nonbinary. They/them were accepted by me as my child, that I loved more than life. Then they came out as trans woman, on Facebook, without a word to me or family. Okay. If that's what and who you are, I love you. Then she changed her name legally to Ilde Senesence. Okay. 

So after 34 years as Ian Pinsker, my son, she is now Ilde, as woman. You would think she would give me a little time to adjust. A little time to talk about what had transpired, now & in her life growing up. I had NO CLUE as to any of this as a possibility. There were no indications that he, Ian, had any gender identity confusion. This was literally "out of the blue" for me. I just wish Ilde would forgive me for my ignorance of any sign I missed along the way. So I have apologized for not being perfect, for not seeing things (that she could have told me about at any time, but didn't). I did the best I could. As all parents will say about how their adult children turned out. 

EXISTENCE VS. LIVING

PREFACE

Existence: the fact or state of living or having objective reality. A being of entity.

Living: the pursuit of a lifestyle of the specified type.

STORY

You can exist from day to day. Satisfying the elements of daily life that continues existence. A human being on life support with minimal brain activity or in a coma, exists. But is that living? If a person is aware of their surroundings, receives the minimum to survive, but does not move forward in the pursuit of improving or changing their life, is that living?

These questions can be asked about every existing human being. Those in a war zone just trying to survive today. Those houseless on the street. Those in assisted-living facilities, prisons, loveless marriages, single people with no family or friends, etc.... We are born into existence alone. We die alone. In between, we live our lives either by choice or by chance. So much effects how our lives unfold but we, for the most part, decide to continue existing.

What happens when a person loses the will to survive? No matter how many loved ones they are surrounded by, they just don't have the passion for anything. Nothing to look forward to each day. Looking for joy and not finding it. Existing, but not living.

CONCLUSION

I have cared for others in my life to the exclusion of self-consideration. Worked hard to improve myself through education to find my place in the world. I found joy through teaching. I found joy with a soulmate (for 20 years). I brought a child into the world and dedicated myself to raising that child to be a loving, caring, giving, independent, and productive human being. (I got something wrong there. How or what did I do to be pushed away and abandoned? It's soul crushing.) 

So I exist now, one day to the next. I am alive but not really living. Not pursuing any improvement. Not practicing anything that brings me joy. 

I had not seen Dr. J for almost 2 years when I discovered she is on my present health insurance. I've seen her once now. I think maybe I need to make an appt with her, my therapist, today. Peace & Joy. 

I GIVE UP DATING!

 PREFACE

I give up dating! I give up all my online dating activity. Tinder. Geek2Geek, OKCupid, Plenty of Fish, eHarmony, SugarDaddy (LOL!), and all the others that I tried and didn't try. I got four good male friends but no long lasting romantic relationship from 18 years of trying.

STORY

After reading more than 100,000 dating profiles (not exaggerating) and dating less than 3 dozen guys, either I'm way too picky or there just isn't anyone out there for me. In the beginning, there was YahooPersonals! It was early online dating and I was missing my late husband for a list of reasons, most urgent, companionship. I had not been separated from my husband for more than 6 days total in 20 years! Those 6 days was when I took my child to look at a college in upper MA in March during spring break. Before that, the record had been 2 days when George went to SXSW convention. We were inseparable and did very well with so much contact. I even worked for him as his Adm. Asst. when he was DM for United Artists (South Florida). I was strong where he was weak, he was strong where I was weak. We liked that same things and enjoyed each other's humor. Perfect Match!

CONCLUSION

There is NO ONE out there that can come close to the match we had. I've tried. I tried looking for someone just like him. No. Compromise on a few of the likes and dislikes. No. Look for an opposite. No. No. No. I can pretty much tell the scammers from the legit profiles, even though there are so few legit ones. I can tell the shallow, narcissistic ones from the real, human beings. 

I'm done. You would think that I could have found one or two that I could settle for, but NO. No one. Nada. I haven't had sex (with anyone else in the room) for 8 YEARS! My sex toys are wearing out. Time to restock!

HAPPY FUCKING 65TH BIRTHDAY TO ME! (PART 2)

 PREFACE

After the encounter documented in Part 1, I sent the following messages. I didn't take the time to stew over what Ilde had said or think about how I should answer. I just replied from the heart. I was wounded. I had to address the accusations that my child believed to be true, but were not. I was confused as to why she would attack me. Say things that were not true.

STORY

After I spoke with my very close friend, Perry (transgender male), I was a little more enlightened as to what might have happened in Ilde's life to cause this breakdown of communication.

To Ilde on FB messenger, 2021/09/26:

[I have to say that you blindsided me. I'm sorry for being so unaware of what you were going thru but you never talked to me about any of it. Any time I would bring up sex while you were growing up, you would shut me down. How was I to know? Did you ever talk to Heather (half sister) about it? Was I suppose to read your mind? You gave no outward clues to any struggle with your identity. I don't give a shit about whether or not you are publicly "airing dirty laundry" but I do care about you talking to me. About understanding what you are going thru & what I can do to help make our relationship better. I am devastated to the core that I got so many things wrong, that caused you so much pain while you were growing up. But I do have to say that the Pinsker-side of the family not communicating with you (& with me) is not my fault. They abandoned me almost immediately after your dad died.

Now I have to absorb what you wrote, & cry. I love you. I'm sorry.

I also want you to know that of anybody in your life, I am one of the people you could have talked to about this. I love you no matter what. There isn't anything that you could do, or say, or be, that would make me stop loving you, or make me love you less. You are my child. My blood. My heart. I am only still alive because I couldn't leave you alone on this earth. The thought of you is what keeps me alive.

"I lost 20 years to a trauma my family doesn't even know happened."

It is not my fault that you didn't tell me. 20 years ago, you were 16 and your father and I would have listened.

"I built a mask of masculinity because as a child you told a doctor I didn't measure up to the ideal of maleness you thought I should, and wanted him to give me medicine to "fix" me."

I NEVER said such a thing to your pediatrician. HE said that you were in the (bottom) 10 percentile of "normal" growth. I asked ONE TIME if HGH would bring you up to average height & weight. I was concerned for your health. You were an underweight baby and in the lowest 10% for growth. I was a new mother being told by the doctor that this was of concern. I never thought you didn't measure up, in any way.

I can't write any more now. But you have remembered some of these things incorrectly. And you took my comment about how long it's been to be that I expect you to come here. I don't, eventho I didn't know any of these reasons that you don't come here. I am perfectly happy to come there to see you. And I hope to do that soon, if you still want to see me. I don't expect you to let me stay there if it's inconvenient. I'll get a B&B. I just don't have the money until I sell the Toyota. I didn't expect to make you feel guilty because I miss you.]

She didn't even want to talk it over in Direct Messages. What I posted on her post/rant was this:

"You are remembering things wrong. I thought you knew me better than this."

Then she posted this:

"It's upsetting that your takeaway from me writing 949 words about things I know you don't know about me, is that *I* don't know *you* better. Upsetting, but not surprising.

This post was about me. I could have made it about you. About the ticket I bought to watch you walk across the stage with your Masters. [There was no Master's degree ceremony, and if there had been, there would not be a ticket you have to buy. I received an AA degree & a BFA degree. Neither required a ticket to be bought!] About the month I lived in Sebastian. [Not sure what this is about.] About the inheritance & the trip to England. [Not sure what this is about, either.] About when you and I first moved into Aunt Toni's. I didn't. [And you had an encounter with James that caused you to move out the same night. I walked out the same night in solidarity and spent the next 10 weeks in our townhouse with no electricity!]

I could have said nothing, like I have over and over again. I could have blocked you, like I did with Lisa and James. I chose to believe there was a chance you would see the volume of what's here, the severity, and choose compassion.

You were the one who taught me that you need to love your family, you don't need to like them."

This is when Ilde blocked me from her Facebook page and FB messenger.

CONCLUSION

I obviously didn't know her at all. And why should I? She never shared her struggles. She never asked for help to understand what was happening. She refused to participate in discussions that might have given her openings to ask questions. 

After going through all of it with Perry, he said that what might have happened is that Ilde is around younger, newly transitioned people (her support group & possibly roommates) who are filling her head with their traumas and she is adopting them as her own. [I have seen it before with my stepdaughter. She transferred all the bad things her biological mother did to her (abuse) to me, like I had done them all to her. I didn't get her until she was 10 yo and ruined.] 

I have no excuse with my own child. I thought I did the best I could. I thought I taught her that I was here for her. That she could talk to me about ANYTHING! And then George died. I was traumatized and in shock and didn't pay enough attention, I guess. I should have not allowed the first partner to stay at our house (Jesse, a 16 yo with an abusive father). I should have taken more control of Ilde's life and education, instead of allowing her to quit and take the GED. I should have concentrated more on getting her into BCC. I was a wreck and just trying to provide for her and make her life happy. What all parents try to do.

My sister said that when she asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I said, "Not to have another one." What do you do when the one person on Earth that you live for, cuts you out of their life? 

HAPPY FUCKING 65TH BIRTHDAY TO ME! (PART 1)

 PREFACE

BIG 65TH BIRTHDAY! Not a happy one. Two days before, my transgender daughter cut me out of her life. I was devastated. Caught totally by surprise (not anything new as my child has kept me in the dark about so many things she was going through). You think you know what's going on in your children's life(lives), but you don't. I have only had three years to adjust to these major changes in her life. She was my son for 33 years and gave me NO clue(s) as to there being an identity crisis.

STORY

This is what my daughter, Ilde, posted for all to see on Facebook: (2021/09/26)

"Yesterday was Daughter day. I let down my guard. My mother posted something for the first time that made me feel so validated I cried happy tears.

CW: trauma [<-- have no idea what this means]

Then in back to back comments, she did the one thing I've specifically told her makes me feel so guilty I avoid interacting with her. 

[I am not responsible for another's guilt. I have never been one to purposefully make someone feel guilty. Not my style. I responded with a comment to another comment that was in error, wishing Ilde a happy birthday. I commented that, "My birthday is in 2 days. My birthday wish would be to be with my daughter. I hadn't seen Ilde since 2018 and I missed her very much." THAT is what made her feel guilty! I never meant that Ilde HAD to be responsible for visiting!]

I haven't been to Florida since December 2018. It's for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that going back is emotionally draining. I've lost a lot of friends down there in the last few years. The first time I went back after I "came out" - that is, decided not to filter my posts - I was cornered, asked why I didn't talk to my family about it, and asked if I could be misgendered by them still. Here's the answer I wanted to give at the time. 

[I would love to know who said this. And I didn't know it was so emotionally draining. I would have been just as happy to go see her in Wisconsin!]

I didn't tell you I was queer for the same reason you asked me why I didn't tell you I was queer. I didn't tell you for the same reason you asked if I could still be your son, your nephew, or any number of other masc-identified terms. My queerness is about me. My gender journey is hard enough managing my own emotions, going through most of it with a partner, and then a spouse, who told me she wouldn't love me if I was a woman. Who cheated on me. Who told me the day I got the courage to say hey, I spent the last 6 months putting myself in a place where I can help you address the cracks in our relationship, that she didn't want to, and left that very night. Having 3 different people in the following year show me they didn't see me as queer, or nonbinary, in different, intimate, and hurtful ways. So no, I didn't talk to you about it. I listened to how you talked about the trans woman you wouldn't date, how you reassured me that you never felt like "anything" other than "what" you were. I heard you when you talked about Tootsie, and Eddie Izzard, and Mrs Doubtfire in my youth. I internalized the words "learned helplessness" to the point that I've pushed myself to burnout over and over and over again. I built a mask of masculinity because as a *child* you told a doctor I didn't measure up to the ideal of maleness you thought I should, and wanted him to give me medicine to "fix" me. I heard you tell me and anyone who would listen how smart I was and able I was and beam with pride because obviously I didn't have ADD like those other kids, that throwaway diagnosis. All the while you sat in those IEP conferences, with the same problems every year about focus, homework, staying on task. You fought for me so hard to make sure my letter grade measured up, but didn't pay attention to the fact that I was desperately lonely, didn't socialize with kids my age outside of school, and was chronically traumatized by the bullying I suffered at the hands of my peers. That you were so avoidant of the topic of sex that both times I was assaulted, I dissociated the memories rather than come to you for help. 

[None of this is true, except for not coming to me for help or to talk about sex in any form. Every time I broached the subject, my child shut me down and refused to talk about it. Never told me about being assaulted. Never told me about bullying. And was never IN an IEP meeting with me, except maybe at the magnet school at 15 yo when I was trying to find the best solution to furthering her education.]

I'm older now than you were when I was born. I've spent nearly half my life away from my family. As an adult - as a 36 year old queer woman, I am done pretending my life, my childhood, was well adjusted and perfect. I lost 20 years to a trauma my family doesn't even know happened. I never had a chance to have a body that truly reflects who I am, how I see myself. Even if I'd had the words, there's no would where you would have entertained putting me on puberty blockers, not in the 1990s. 20 years later you made my coming out about you, prepubescant Ilde never had a chance. I've spent the last 5 years unraveling trauma I'll be working on for the rest of my life.

[How am I suppose to help with a trauma I didn't know about? She never even realized that we had a very diverse set of friends and acquaintances; gay, lesbian, transgender...IN THE 1990s!]

To be perfectly clear, though, this post isn't about you. This post is about me. Regardless of the fact that you're the reason Neal and the rest of Dad's side of the family doesn't talk to me. Regardless of the fact that I haven't spoken to James and Lisa in years. Regardless of the fact that I can't think about flying back to Florida - the place I used to reflexively call "home" [at least, used to call home without it making me sad] - without getting weighted down by guilt, having to make the awful choice of whether to open myself up to spending a massive amount of emotional energy on handling then recovering from guilt and abuse over how long it's been since I've been back, or hiding the fact I'm there at all.

[I'm not the reason the Pinsker side doesn't talk to her. THEY don't talk to ME either! They cut me off as soon as the Irving/Mae Pinsker estate was divided up, maybe even before. This happened to Aunt Irene too! She was married to Irving's brother, Al, and when he died, they stopped all communication with her. "She wasn't blood."]

This post is about me. Before you give me crap about airing my dirty laundry or whatever other WASPy socially acceptable phrase people use for shaming others who own the trauma they face, know that I've had to build my life, climb out of debt, start and end two marriages, raise and lose a child, rebuild an entire identity, build a nearly two decade long career, and buy a house all on my own.

[Yes it is all about you. It sounds like you've had coaching on "how this is suppose to go" from younger, newly transgender people with whom you identify. They have had all this trauma, so you must have had it too. They have had all this rejection from their families, so you must have had it too. There are things you "remember" that DID NOT HAPPEN. And you cannot blame me for NOT being a mind reader, for things YOU did not tell me, share with me, come to me for help. I always thought you felt like you could talk to me. I was wrong.]

If this post upsets you, allow me to suggest you Google DBT distress tolerance skills and employ them - TIP, REST, or soothing your five senses are likely the most effective. I cannot carry the emotional water of managing your reactions, of being enmeshed with you, of treating your emotions like my own. The whiplash yesterday was just a bridge too far."

[I have been using distress tolerance skills my whole life. Those coping skills were natural for me. I didn't have any psychologist to tell me about them because I was raised to "walk it off" and get on with it. It was not accepted that mental health was a right.]

CONCLUSION

I lost my mother at 15, and then lost my father at 24.  I lost my teen years because I had to grow up way too fast. Gave up a child at 18. Was deceived by my first husband before he started mentally abusing me. Left him to hitchhike 1100 miles with a hitman, to settle on the other side of Florida, separated from my family and missing saying goodbye to my dying father. I met the love of my life in George, made a life with him for 20 years, only to lose him, as I watched him die in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do to save him. 19 years later and I can't even type those words without crying and it all coming back like it happened today. I have PTSD because of it. 

I also have Ilde because of George. We/I raised an incredible child, with intelligence, ethics, and a huge heart. Too big sometimes as she wants to take on all the woes of everyone they care about. Too trusting in loving a partner she can't see them for their genuine self. Too secretive for some reason I can't fathom. If anyone could understand about incidents in her life, I can. She ran away from me, when she should have been running towards me. 

ONLINE DATING SCAM (PART 2)

 PREFACE

This unfolded like several other online dating contact scams. The men establish regular contact and language that advances intimacy. They reveal personal tragedies of losing a beloved wife, having to care for the motherless child (usually female), and traveling for business a lot. They have some kind of weird career. An engineer on oil rigs in the Black Sea. A geologist working in Iraq. And now a cyber security and military equipment exporter/supplier.

STORY

Chapter Two: Daily texts

He texted me in the morning to wake me up with sweet sentiments and encouragement. He texted me several times throughout the day ending up with a late night "good night, my queen" to segway into the next morning. They learn that constant contact keeps the "fish on the hook" and makes the connection be on a deeper level. "The better to reel you in, my dear." Klump professed his "love" for me WAY, WAY too soon. I kept him at "arms length" with vague feelings for him. I never said I loved him or even that I trusted him (in so many words) but gave him just enough to move forward.

Then came the "trip out of town" and he was heading to Mexico for a big deal that would make him enough money to retire. BTW, he listed himself as living in Miami. So flying to Mexico did not sound too suspicious. We kept in touch daily while he was in Mexico. I pushed a little bit on the "when are you coming home" question after he'd been there for two weeks. He said he'd be flying out within a few days.

Chapter three: THE BIG SCAM

He texted that he had finished his business but there was a problem with him getting paid. Then there was a problem with him getting out of the country. The Mexican police had confiscated his "check" and wouldn't let him leave unless he paid them (which all his money was in the "check"). They were arresting him and putting him in jail. Really?! And they let you keep your phone?! And why would a legit company cut you a check for 10s of thousands of dollars? Why not just transfer the money EFT? Why couldn't he cash the check and wire the money to himself? I had so many questions and he had excuses but not answers. Then the request that I send him money. I told him I could not do that. He said that he would be put in a Mexican jail (wasn't he already in one?!) and that his business manager couldn't do anything for him. That his bank couldn't do anything for him. Right.

So I texted him that I had an FBI neighbor/friend across the street that would make inquiries about his situation if he gave me the details. He said please don't involve the FBI. That's when he fessed up and said that his business transaction wasn't exactly legit. HE WAS SELLING GUNS AND AMUNITION IN MEXICO!! A gun runner! WOW. What a tale we weave.... I said that I couldn't do anything for him. That he needed to lose my information and not contact me anymore. He begged me to help him. I said no. I blocked his texts and had no more contact with him.

CONCLUSION

At least this time I didn't fall for ANY of his BS. The nagging inconsistency in the back of my mind persisted. "You've seen this before." I HAVE seen this before. I've seen it way too many times. I am an incurable optimist but this is leading to the cure!

The first time I was taken in by an online dating scammer, was about a year after my husband died and I had been online for about 6 months just trying to find companionship. I was missing male companionship. I "met" a guy online that strung me along for SIX weeks who worked on "an oil rig in the Black Sea." He sent me pictures of the rig! Pictures of the rig in a massive storm. He had a daughter in Miami that was living with his mother while he was out of the country working. He actually sent me a cashier's check because he couldn't get back without me buying him an airline ticket home! And I deposited it & waited for it to clear (totally bogus check that the BANK accepted & then it totally screwed up my bank account!).

It has been 18 years since then. I have had countless attempts since then to scam me through my heart. The scams have evolved but are recognizable if you know what to look for. Too many "red flags" to go into on this post but look for it in the future. Stay safe out there and if it seems to good to be true...it's not true!

ONLINE DATING 2021: THE LAST SCAM

PREFACE

I QUIT!

Okay. Here's the story of the last month. In "chapters" because it's a long story. It is a cautionary tale for single women everywhere. Pay Attention!

I have been using online dating services since 2003. Yes, the beginning of the whole thing. I was a new widow then. I had been out of the "dating" scene for 20 years. A lot changes in two decades, but not as much as those particular decades. 1982-2002 saw many leaps in technology, communications, internet access, social media, and innovative scam artists.

STORY

Chapter One: First Contact

We connected through Tinder. He was a widow. I was a widow. He was originally from South Africa. A white South African who immigrated to California in 2009, where he met his wife. She died 3 years later of cancer, leaving him with a two year old daughter. His daughter died of colon cancer in December 2020. He blames the doctors and their preoccupation with the pandemic for not giving her the "best" treatment and allowing her to die.

He is an independent contractor in cyber-security and military grade security equipment. His name. Klump Williams. He was going by William on the Tinder sight but once we moved over to texting on the phone, he revealed his true name and said I could call him either. I said I preferred his real name and called him Klump. We "met" on May 5th, 2021. He sent VERY long-winded texts, very unlike typical men. He made enough English grammar/spelling mistakes for it to be his second language. He sent pictures of his 2 dogs and 3 cats, relaxing with him on the couch. Also many more endearing poses supposedly sent in "real time." He was quite handsome.

He then started texting me several times a day, every day. He professed his "love" for me. And asked that I trust him, "why can't I trust him?", and saying I was the first woman he'd contacted. Klump hadn't dated in 9 years?! *suspicious*

CONCLUSION

This is what they do. They say all the right things. Agree to text to get to know you. Don't push an in-person meeting. Post appealing pictures that cater to info on your profile. I really thought this one might be a REAL person. A man I could like. A man I could become friends with and possibly more. But as the following chapters will reveal, that was not the case. Even in the first texts, on Tinder, I had that nagging inconsistency in the back of my mind. "You've seen this before." To be continued....

SPRING FORWARD 2013

 

PREFACE

This is a "memory" post from Facebook that came up today. I figured I'd publish it here and now, just to keep it alive in my blog, if not in my mind.

STORY

MARCH 10, 2013:

I am immobile on the couch, with my computer next to me, listening to Spotify radio based on 80s music (Don Henley specifically), my marigolds sitting outside in the dark waiting for me to come out and "finish already!"...my stomach growling, and I really need to go to bed early tonight to take my car in to be worked on at 8AM! I love that the time has sprung forward but I wish I hadn't stayed out partying until 2AM and witnessed the change! (No, I really don't...I had a good time!)

I'm not complaining, just wondering what to do next. I guess I'll put away my gardening stuff for tomorrow...eat something relatively healthy...NOT watch "Rock of Ages" tonight...play a little Gardens of Time...go to bed & set my alarm. I really hate waking up by an alarm (so unnatural).

CONCLUSION

I remember what it was like to live alone. To have a house to myself. To be accountable to no one. I'm not sure if I was teaching at this time in the year of 2013. My last classes were taught in August of 2013. So spring semester might have been over, but probably not, since we usually ended classes at the end of April, beginning of May (then graduation at the end of May). I really miss teaching.

THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE COVID-19 TUNNEL: WEEK 52!

  PREFACE

Today I received my first shot of Moderna vaccine! It was uneventful and so far, I'm not experiencing any effects. Not even a sore arm. In 28 days, I receive my second shot and will be vaccinated against contracting COVID-19. 

STORY

There hasn't been enough time passed to be sure for how long the vaccination will protect. But at this time, it is recommended that we all get vaccinated yearly, just like the regular flu vaccine. I have never been one to get the flu vaccine due to the mutations yearly and the vaccine not protecting from the new strains. Since the pandemic, I've had time to rethink that opinion. I think once I'm clear of the timeframe, I'll get the flu vaccine and the pneumonia vaccine (good for 10 years!).

My being overweight got me the shot when being under 65 did not. I'm 64 and 5 months! I do have asthmatic bronchitis. I do have high blood pressure (if they bothered to take my BP with an automatic cuff), eventho I don't take meds for it. I control it with celery juice (when I think of juicing). My blood pressure is notable due to being 100 lbs overweight! Normally, when I'm within a normal weight range, it's so low they have to take it twice to make sure I'm alive! My blood sugar also runs low (with a father and paternal grandmother who both had Type 2 diabetes). I am usually in good health. I take many homeopathic vitamins and supplements to stay that way. I regularly take sodium bicarbonate (baking soda) which lowers my body's acidity. Turmeric every day to help thin my blood (no blood clots or strokes).

CONCLUSION

I try to do all I can to stay healthy, except exercise. I have been WAY TOO sedentary. I just brought my Gazelle (exercise equipment) down from my storage unit. I haven't cleared a spot in my room for it yet so I can use it, but it's a start. I'm closer to adding more movement to my daily life. Let's hope I can maintain the momentum. There is a light at the end of this long, dark COVID-19 tunnel for me. I have been housebound for longer than most. Only going out to pickup takeout or groceries (already shopped and bagged for me at WalMart or Publix). The shot was only the second time I've been in Publix in the past 11 months! I stopped doing my vendor work (mystery shopping) last June. I will be delighted to be able to go out again, even if it will be with a mask for as long as necessary!

COVID-19 WEEK 18: LET'S EXPLODE THINGS! 4 HORSES DEAD!

PREFACE
Ah yes, the Fourth of July. Celebrating our country's birthday...during a pandemic. All public gatherings cancelled, meaning all the big fireworks displays are cancelled. Meaning what are the people going to do to show their patriotism and salute America's birthday and independence from a ruling country that didn't represent our needs and wants??? Let's blow stuff up!

STORY
The Fourth of July has always been a terrible night for my sister. I've been living with her for 6 years now and even when I was living elsewhere, I would come and keep her company. She has horses. Horses tend to panic or are very stressed by the loud booming and exploding of fireworks. We live in a livestock area. An area that was founded on horse ownership and 1-acre minimum homesteading. As the 'city' encroached on the wide-open land, and the 'city dwellers' moved out of the city and into our spaces, they brought what they were running away from. They think that now that they have all this land, they can do whatever they want. But we have laws out here too. Dogs have to be on leashes. You can't plant things in the swale (the area from the road to where the sidewalk would be if there was one...also called easement). There are established trails for horses, pedestrians, and bicycles. ATVs, Gator carts, and golf carts are not allowed on these trails. Nor are they street legal. But that doesn't stop 'them' from using the trails illegally!

The mayor of our big/little town lost her horse a few years back due to a heart attack during 4th/July fireworks. She has worked hard to minimize who can shoot them off. But this year, due to COVID-19 and cancellations of firework displays, everybody thought they could have their own display! Even the GOVERNOR waived the ban on fireworks for Florida! The signs posted this year were watered down in language so that nobody paid attention to them. NO FIREWORKS WITHIN 1000 FEET OF LIVESTOCK! The fireworks started even before dark (8:30 pm) and didn't stop until 1 AM! Two of our horses were frantic during the booming and crashing and popping. Neighbors shot off illegal fireworks, the kind that go high in the air...we call mortars...and explode with a loud BOOM! All we could do was watch as the two horses ran around the ring, bucking, snorting, and in general distress.  Not to mention the stress it puts on countless dogs, traumatized cats, and PTSD Veterans. 4 horses in our neighborhood died on the night of the 4th of July.

Poor Danny Boy was exhausted by 1 am and he laid down in the ring. My sister checked on him throughout the night to make sure he was still alive. The third horse is over 30 years old and didn't seem to react to it all, but she's always been very steady about it. Maybe she just can't hear it as well. Danny Boy is very young, 13 or so. His heart could have burst from all the stress. This is only the second 4th/July he's gone through down here. He's from Ohio country living. Last year was his first year, but with all the effort of our Mayor, the fireworks were very mild and didn't stress him out. But last year, the people had central places to gather and watch them. They didn't feel it necessary to blow stuff up in their yards.

CONCLUSION
Everyone has rights. The rights of Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness. You have the right to swing your arms if you want to, but when your arm comes in contact with the next person's nose...that's where your rights end. Other people have the right to their rights. Everyone needs to respect the rights of others, even when you have to modify your perception of your rights. We do not live in closed boxes. Or defined spaces. You can draw a property line in the sand, but that does not stop air, wind, smells, voices, or freedom. We ALL need to be better neighbors. Better neighbors in our communities, in our cities, counties, states, and in the World. Everyone is connected, despite lines drawn in the sand. Love One Another.

COVID-19: WK 17 - PERSONAL MAINTENANCE

PREFACE
During this pandemic, you might find yourself slipping on your personal maintenance. I've noticed a lot of the men growing beards and their hair. While salons and barbershops are closed or have been closed for many months, this is just an excuse to NOT shave or cut your hair. Also, it's a great thing that ZOOM does NOT have SMELL-A-VISION...LOL! I know for a fact that those attending meetings by ZOOM are NOT wearing (outside the house, dress or casual) pants, if pants at all.

STORY
I'm not one to shower every day in "normal" circumstances. I don't do manual labor or sweat if I can help it, so going 2, or even 3 days, without bathing is not apparent to others around me. But with the stay-in-place routine, my showering has taken on a new challenge for me. If I get up late in the afternoon/early evening, I may not have an opportunity to shower. I make my smoothie, then start preparing dinner. I sit down with my sister and eat and watch TV. I may not get up again until it's time for bed (not counting bathroom breaks). It may be a week before I realize that my hair is in dire need of washing! I put it in a ponytail on top of my head and that buys me another day or two if I HAVE to go out for takeout. I don't like to go out in public without clean hair/body. Since there is no one coming into our home, it doesn't matter much, but going out is another thing entirely.

It is also a problem with online dating during the COVID-19 global pandemic. If you happen to contact a suitable match, you can't let them see you when you haven't bathed or kept up. Thick, unruly eyebrows. No makeup. Unwashed hair. Eww. So you have to stall until you find out if it's worth it to "doll up" for this contact or if this is just another miss in your search. Now that everyone has accepted that video conferencing or virtual dating is something to do...do we have to work harder to be presentable?! LOL

CONCLUSION
That would be a good reason to keep up on your personal maintenance if online dating during a pandemic was viable. I had yet to see that online dating was viable pre-COVID, much less now, when everyone is quarantined or staying-in-place. No one is venturing out, except those with no concept of mortality or social conscientiousness. I guess I'll go cut my talons (toenails) and put the top coat on my fingernails, brush my soft, clean hair, and then snuggle into my cozy bed to try to sleep, perhaps to dream.... More than likely, not sleep until the sun comes up, and then sleep through the 106 degree high for July 1st, 2020. Take care of yourselves! Be safe. Wear a face mask in public. Practice social distancing inside public places. Don't go out if you don't need to, especially if your immune system is compromised or you have medical issues. Stay alive and we will all get thru this. Love to All! 

COVID-19 STAY-IN-PLACE: WEEK 16?!

PREFACE
Here we all are. People going stir crazy, protesting wearing masks in public places, protesting civil rights (George Floyd murder, police brutality, murder by police of black people, Black Lives Matter...), people calling for de-funding the police (diverting funds to other community services that have been slashed and now the police have to do them), and a spike in COVID-19 cases since "phase 1" re-opening of the states.

STORY
WTF?! Each new day brings unimagined horror. Our leadership is "off the grid" insane.

Gassing citizen's exercising their right to assemble, so #45 can stroll across to the damaged church he never attends and hold up a BIBLE?! The police that stood by and were yelled at and spit on by white "I've got the right not to wear a mask," GUN TOTING!, protesters...stood fast in front of the state capital! didn't fire teargas (pepper bombs...whatever), didn't fire rubber bullets into the crowd. A crowd that was an untrained militia carrying assault rifles to the capital. Nothing?

But peaceful, non-combative protesters, mostly of color, marching to protest the way police treats POC! are gassed by police, and shot at with rubber bullets, arrested, beaten, along with REPORTERS! with no regard for public safety. I understand that police have the responsibility to maintain order...but a PEACEFUL protest doesn't require teargas! or tasers! or urban assault vehicles!

And now, to address the "phase 1" re-opening!! TOO SOON! Everybody said TOO SOON! But the orange toddler claims the economy is more important than the lives of the elderly. What's 200,000 dead compared to a profit margin?! If you order everyone to re-open, then everyone has to go back to work...no more UE benefits to pay out (that is if you GOT benefits at all! Florida is not on the ball when it comes to Unemployment benefits.). People started going out to clubs, bars, and bar/restaurants WITHOUT MASKS! and then some with masks. Code enforcement closed them down. Daily infection rates went up to ALL NEW HIGHS, breaking records each consecutive day! There was NEVER A FLATTENED CURVE!

CONCLUSION
I had been working again after not working for two months. I do vendor work, going into stores (which are not as crowded as they were pre-COVID) and wearing my mask, washing my hands after each location. I visited (34) 7-Elevens over three weeks, with one week break before the last week. I cancelled the last 6 locations because of the spike in cases. It doesn't look like I will be getting back to work before the end of the year or longer. It doesn't look like the leadership, nor the citizens, are exercising good judgement or good sense. I think I'll wait for a TRULY FLATTENED CURVE before I venture out to work among the masses again.

I really don't know what to expect from day to day. It's exhausting. I'm depressed most of the time. I'm not sleeping right. It's a million degrees outside in the daytime, so...no going out anyway. Things are shutting down again, so...no going out. I need to work on stuff here, at home. My garden. Fitting in some exercise. Reading! Yeah, right. There is no "getting back to normal" ever again. There is only THE NEW NORMAL. What is happening now. What will be "normal" going forward. What will keep us safe, healthy, and alive. FUCK THE TRUMP VIRUS! We will survive! And come November, send in the military and ESCORT HIM OUT OF THE WHITE HOUSE! Better days are coming!

COVID-19 LOCKDOWN - WEEK 6

PREFACE
Six weeks into "stay in place" and I haven't lost my mind. I started limiting my travels outside on March 5th. I'm still here. I'm still healthy. I'm a homebody. That's what they call someone that doesn't go out much. Someone who stays home and lives their life in a smaller world than most people. It's not a choice I made but a choice I fell into after experiencing one last trauma that broke me. PTSD. Depression. Anxiety. Being single, female, older, and vulnerable...prevented me venturing out to nightclubs, dating events, even movies...until I just went out to do the few jobs I contract to perform, and occasional "drive to nowhere" to relieve stress. I saw it coming...just wish our country's leadership had seen it coming.

STORY
Now, the coronavirus pandemic! After an extended time, our governor finally ordered a lockdown of the state of Florida on April 1st, 2020. After thousands and tens of thousands of spring breakers played on the beaches for weeks after the first confirmed cases, oblivious to the damage (contagion) that they were spreading. They believed they were immune to a DEADLY VIRUS. Youth. Hubris. False concept of immortality. We may never know the extent of the deaths that delay caused.
The lockdown didn't change my life very much.

I wipe down the groceries that are delivered to my door (instead of picking up the grocery order from Walmart, shopped by someone else___I HATE GROCERY SHOPPING!). Making the switch over to grocery delivery was seamless, until everyone else started doing it too. Now instead of next day or the day after, it's a 4-5 day wait. Still, you just have to plan it out and be a little organized. Publix still has same day or next day delivery...they're more expensive but they have a few things that I buy that no one else has, anywhere!

Any packages or mail gets quarantined for several days or wiped down with Clorox. All surfaces in the house are wiped down with bleach every 2-3 days. There are only me and my sister living in the house and no one else has come into the house in over a month. We wash our hands a lot anyway, so that's no different. Not much has changed.

CONCLUSION
I know lots of people are out there going bonkers. Too much togetherness with family. Too much being alone for others. I'm fine with being alone with myself, my thoughts, playing video games, writing, painting, crocheting...lots to occupy my mind.

Also I'm lucky to live with my sister, whom I get along with famously. She's my best friend. I'm lucky that her house is on an acre of land. We have 2 cats for mental comfort. 3 horses to occupy my sister when she gets stressed. There are many that are not so lucky. I wish I could help them all. Comfort them all. I do wish you all peace and good health. I pray for the end of this pandemic. A treatment. A cure. A vaccine. Better days are coming!

FIRST DAY OF SUMMER

PREFACE
Summer in south Florida is like living 8" from the sun. Daytime temperatures can 'feel like' 100+ degrees. Sure everybody loves to invade us when it starts to get cold up north. But when they leave, the REAL FLORIDIANS come out to play (or rather, stay in the AC and find other things to do...lol).

STORY
Just like when the snow falls and the wind blows a gale, and the temperatures drop to the teens or single digits, the northern dwellers stay inside, under blankets, drinking hot chocolate, and inching the thermostat up a degree or two. They hibernate. Not much you can do outside without chancing frostbite, so catching up on movies or series's missed is the activity of the night.

Those that work and have to brave the weather during the weekdays, forge ahead, dreaming of the Florida vacation in the spring (February or March) when the ground is still frozen up north. Florida is having it's most enjoyable weather. It's winter from the middle of January to the middle of March, and there are about two weeks of winter for us. One or two days at a time, the temperature will dip down below 60 degrees. It's glorious! We have to put on sweaters and jackets, to the sheer amusement of the snowbirds.

CONCLUSION
Every location has it's good and bad to recommend living there. The good you enjoy and the bad you'll put up with. It has to balance out for you to stay. I've been here for more than 50 years. I wasn't born here but moved here when I was 2. I've left for 5 years or so at a time, but have always come back. "Once you get the sand between your toes, you never leave (for good)." With the sea level rising, that may be the only reason that I leave Florida...for higher ground. We are at (or some places below) sea level here! Time to head north! 😊

4 DAYS 'TIL SUMMER!

PREFACE
Summer in south Florida started in March! Truth be told, we've had a few days this spring that were quite nice. Below 70 degrees even. But when you're 8 inches from the sun, SUMMER is half the year.

STORY
Having lived most of my life in south Florida, I'm not surprised that it is over 80 degrees on April 2nd. But when it gets to be June, it's over 90 degrees every day! And that is just the thermometer reading, not factoring in the humidity over 80% most days and lack of cloud cover (read as "sun beating down relentlessly"). I remember half a dozen days in the summer being over 100! when I was a kid. I remember downtown flooding "because it's near impossible to drain sea level" and more than 2 days of straight rain causes flooding. There's no place for water to go 'down' when you're at sea level!

What is surprising to me is to look at the rest of the country and their weather. My son lives in Madison, WI and today it was 74 degrees there. My nephew lives in San Francisco, CA and it was  70. There are other places to live besides here! The only problem is that THEY have their extremes too. Where I can't live is a place where it gets colder than freezing (32 degrees F), or I can't see the sky most of the year (gray, cloud covered, low hanging sky is SO DEPRESSING!), nor a place that has lots of tornadoes. I need to be close to water (even if it's not the ocean, which is preferred). Now that the sea level is rising, HERE is not a good place to live.

CONCLUSION
We've been looking at Georgia and South Carolina for places to live. It's hard for my sister because she's got so much history here (50 years in the same house, this year). She has connections to the community. (And she HATES change.) I'm not so rooted.

I have lived with my sister for the past 5 years. I know that due to my income and PTSD, that I'm not likely to move out and get my own place. Where ever she decides will be a good place for her, will be fine with me. I can eBay from anywhere. I'm retired, so no job to sever myself from. My friends have moved away or I moved away from them. Most of my friends are now online, more than in person. I can live anywhere. I would just like to live somewhere that it doesn't feel like I just walked into HELL's front door when I walk out my front door!