An Unforseen Glitch

Tonight, I learned I cannot write sex scenes when Timber is in the room. Time to set up my office.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

No DesireTo Gloat

An interesting thing happened this past week. Out of the clear blue, Crow Mother got an email from the SGM. After checking with me, she wrote him back and they have been in that sporadic, tentative communication that we tend to go through with people we were once very close to and aren't any longer.

She and I wondered and speculated. He must be on deployment. There would be no way he would be contacting her if he were at home and Wifey would know. We knew he was miserable. gloatgloatgloat What would she tell him if/when he asks about me? What could she tell him if/when he asks about me? gloatgloatgloat

Sure enough, the email we were expecting arrived yesterday. He is "in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect (him) at all..."

Now, for those of you who don't know or who don't remember...my divorce from the SGM was not good. Very few divorces are. But we had been making it work, managing to stay friends. Until this woman came along. For a while, I tried to blame her entirely. Finally, though, I had to admit that he was an adult and capable of making decisions on his own. His choice to behave in these ways, agree to these demands and take these steps. She may have been the one to put the ideas in his head, she may have been the one pushing him to do them ~ he was the one who finally, at the end of the day, had to decide Yes, I will do this, say this, behave this way. And the choices he made were vile. One of the last things I ever said to him was "SGM, God help your soul" because what he was doing was so completely contrary to the man I thought I knew him to be.

He contributed to a schism in my biofamily that, well, created the necessity for the word biofamily. And while that relationship has healed, it can never be what it once was (and I'm not saying different=worse. Different=different. I'm also not going to elaborate hugely here because it's not the focus of this post so just trust and go with me. Thanks.) Crow Mother and my mom made choices around the divorce that have lingering effects to this day (different=different.) And then he made choices around his new relationship that made Crow and my mother's choices obsolete ~ and the three of us were left holding the remnants of a family, wondering what the hell had happened. And now, he was back.

Crow Mother and I waited for the email we knew would come. I'm in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect me at all... Crow wrote me and said "I have no desire to gloat (but I understand yours!!!!!) but no sympathy, either. He did, indeed, bring it on himself."

I read those words over and over and over again. I'm in a marriage that never should have happened to a person who doesn't respect me at all... I read those words and I looked down at my hands and there was my beautiful ring. I looked over and there was my beautiful man. I looked around and there was my beautiful life. And I realized ~ I have no desire to gloat, either. The SGM's unhappiness doesn't make me happy. Doesn't bring me pleasure. Like Crow Mother, I have no real sympathy. And yet...the gloating, superior, neener-neener-neerer feeling that I expected isn't there.

So I kiss on my dear Lithus. I joke with Timber and snuggle Lionel and write my three pages per day and plan to go visit the grandkid and light a fire to hold off the rainy day and and and...And when the SGM crosses my mind, I'll think it's a shame that he let his life become what it is. And then I'll go back to my life.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Writer's Block

I think those may be the two scariest words in any author's vocabulary. They are right up there with "stage fright" for performers and whatever the equivalent is for visual artists. It is my greatest relief to announce that mine is past.

Here's my secret ~ I hadn't written a word of fiction in about three months. For the 6 to 8 weeks prior to that, I had been struggling. My words were coming harder, more stilted, less regularly. And then they ... dried up.

The nonfiction was still flowing strongly. My latest book was completed and has been edited within an inch of its life and more times than I care to count in record time. Every single article I owed my little indie paper got written beautifully and well. And while I haven't necessarily been as prolific as I may have been in the past, Pobble Thoughts got regular updates. But my fiction? Gone. Novels? Nope. Short stories? Nothing. A clever email to a friend to make her smile? Not even that.

I won't say I've never been more frightened in my life. I have been. Bottom line is, this is only work. However, it is not an overstatement to say I have never been more frightened in my professional life. And this is coming from a woman who once had a knife pulled on her while she was working single coverage at a shelter.

First, I am very end-game oriented. While I have a verbal agreement to publish the next two novels and have submitted proposals with a date, I have no signed contract. Where it stands right now is more along the lines of "Yeah, when you get it finished, let us know and we'll go from there." Well...guess what? Apparently, I don't work well with that kind of vague timeline. I thought that I did. I would've told you that I did. When I have deadlines, I work consistently and calmly toward them. I do not procrastinate. I do not wait until the last minute. I do not do better under stress (I don't do worse, mind you, I just don't do better, either). So...why would a deadline be important? I didn't think it was. It is. Who knew.

Second, the book that comes out in February didn't need editing. Oh, it needed punctuation and typo help. There were a couple sentences that got reworked. But it didn't need editing. As my editor put it, "I can make this book different; I can't make it better. Don't change anything." Which was amazingly, indescribably, earth-shatteringly, mind-blowingly flattering. Until now. Now, it's really tough to be the brand new author who is so good she can write a publishable first draft. I found myself agonizing over every phrase, every segue, every character choice. This is not conducive to getting words on paper or computer screen.

TTG, I have resolved both of these issues. I unofficially took on NaNoWriMo and the goal of 2000 words per day. That rate wouldn't have completed this novel (it's longer than NaNoWriMo suggests/requests/demands/challenges) but it gave me a deadline. Even if it was a self-imposed one, it was still external in a weird way that you either understand or you don't because I can't explain it. While I haven't met that 2000 words per day goal, I have written again. Almost every day. I have officially announced two, more realistic deadlines to my trade organization. This is scary ~ in that good way. So, deadlines handled. Lithus came up with the other solution: Pretend you're someone else. I thought about it. This other writer is still only on her second novel. Edits are desirable and anticipated and expected. Hell, to think this other person could write a novel without needing editing is foolish and unrealistic on anyone's part. And amazingly enough, this person doesn't have writer's block, either.

*whew*

So, as I continue NaNoWriMo, my posts may (or may not) be a little sporadic. Just know I'm here. I'm well. And I'm writing. :)

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Not Really Back But...

I'm still wicked busy so am not officially posting right now but I had to brag about a friend. Go check this out: http://neo-prodigy.livejournal.com/tag/stranger+than+fiction (no, it's not a live link goddammit. Cut and paste please. Stoopid computer...) And be sure to note the Kermit avatar 'cause that's so what I'm doing over this news!

Those are Pobble Thoughts (sorta). That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

The Thing to Remember

For those who supported Barack Obama and are now basking in the glow of his election, it would be easy to forget that there are people who have woken this morning angry, afraid and more ostracized than ever. For those who supported John McCain and are now dealing with his electorial loss, it would be easy to believe that the enemy won.

What I would ask us all to remember is that we all share a common goal. We all want the United States of America to be stronger, healthier, safer and more stable. We want this country to be everything it can be. Gloating will do us no good. Pouting will do us no good.

Yes, I speak from the winning side of the table. I have, however, more often than not, spoken from the other side of the table and have tried to always speak these same words, hold this same attitude. We are all Americans. No one is more real than anyone else. No one is more loyal or patriotic than anyone else. No one's feelings are any more ~ or less ~ valid than anyone else's. We do not have to agree. We do not have to like. We must find a way to come together now, as a country, as a people, and reach our common goal.

Personally, I think the men who can help us do this is won last night. You don't have to agree with me. If I am right, though, or if you are, these are the men we have. And we are what we have. Male-Female. Rich-Poor-and Everything In Between. Black-White-Asian-Latino-and Everything Else. Gay-Straight-Bi-Transgendered. Christian-non Christian. City Mice-Country Mice-Suburban Mice. Plumbers-CEOs. Wage Earners-Salaried. We are America. We are Americans. None of us is going anywhere. All of us have a right to be here. We must work and live and come together.

The word "hope" has been and continues to be bandied about. Here is my hope: that we can become a unified nation again. That we can disagree and agree and fight and argue and hug and respect and understand as a single people, a single nation. Maybe I hope too much. But I don't think so.

To quote from one of my favorites: These men, no matter how much we may disagree with them, they are not ribbon clerks to be ordered about - they are proud, accomplished men, the cream of their colonies. And whether you like them or not, they and the people they represent will be part of this new nation that YOU hope to create. Now, either learn how to live with them, or pack up and go home! In any case, stop acting like a Boston fishwife.

Take a few days. Bask in the glow. Wallow in the anger. But then... well, then it's time we all stopped acting like Boston fishwives. And that's the thing to remember.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Speechless...

...And thankful.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you your country back.

Happy Thoughts

Those of you who have been long-time readers may (or may not) remember several years ago, I fell up the stairs at the Divine M's house and broke one of the little bones in my left foot. My doctor told me to wrap it, ice it and stay off of it for 3-5 days. The FE brought over dinner and wine one night and, amazingly enough, my foot didn't hurt much. She also coined the phrase One Footed Pobble Hop for the dance I do when I'm excited. It has since become simply the Pobble Hop but it is still her creation.

I am now 3000 miles away from the FE. Luckily, I live in the same house with Lithus. Because I have, once again, broken one of the little bones in the top of my foot. This time, it's the right foot rather than the left and I didn't fall up stairs (I whacked it on a poorly placed rack at a department store, in case you're wondering) but the result and cure are the same. Wrap, ice, off it.

Which has given me a lot of time to think, as I am only in day two of my three day cure, and I have been thinking about things that make me happy.

* Playing Clue with my family. It's my favorite board game. I own it ~ a Christmas present the last year my dad was alive. But it's in storage in Worcester and, given the fact that it was a gift when it was a gift, I haven't played it in a while. Lithus bought it for me the other day and he, Timber and I played several rounds. You know what? It's still a great game.

* Writing. As I've mentioned here, I've been blocked. I've been really, really blocked. It's probably been 6-8 weeks since I've written anything fictional and another 4 before that since I've written anything good. But the Universe gives us what we need and, apparently, I needed a broken foot. Because I have been writing today. Incredibly, incredibly productive. I am superstitious enough that I won't proclaim my block gone. It's been one day after nearly 3 months. And I wrote today. Which is a huge something.

* The Orleans Candle Company. They are down in Portland, which is further than I would like it to be but not nearly as far as Salem, MA. And they sell supplies the way I am used to stores selling supplies.

* French manicure forms. These are little strips that you can use to give yourself a French manicure and have them have clean lines and look nice.

* Halloween/Samhain. While there were too many people to honor this year, that's the way it happens sometimes. But it was good to release the crap that I let go of and plant the seeds I planted. It's working already. And we got trick-or-treaters. Not many but enough. My favorite was a teenager dressed as a stock broker. He had a suit with the tie loosened and jacket askew, he'd done makeup to give himself heavy 5 o'clock shadow and had a bottle in a brown paper sack tucked in his pocket. We carved pumpkins into Jack o'lanterns, which I love. Timber and Lithus used patterns for the first time. I used a pattern and free-formed one (yes, I got two because mine were little.) I have never seen white pumpkins before but got one this year and carved ghosts into it. Oh yeah ~ happiness.

* NaNoMo. Which stands for National Novel Month, in case you don't know. The goal is to write a 50,000 word novel in the month of November. I have never participated before. I'm not officially participating this month. And, I'm unofficially borrowing it in hopes that it helps break the block. So far, it's working. I also love the knowledge that other authors are out there, working, creating, churning away. The world needs books and stories. It's nice to know they're coming along.

* My new jacket. It's actually a top, not a jacket. So it's a jacket but it's not outerwear. Yes, that's probably the better way of describing it. It's fitted burgundy velvet with lace around the sleeves and collar and corset lacing up the back. And it's bee-yoo-tee-ful.

* My shoes from the Lovely Cats. These were my birthday present from her this year. Actually, she got me a Target gift card. But still. They're from her.

So yes, lots of happiness these days. And lots of gratitude for the happiness.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

With Thanks To Mike C...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Scrabble, Anyone?

The true question of the Universe isn't "why are we here?" or "is there a God" or "what is the meaning of life?" The true question of the Universe is "Just how much of a goob is the Boston Pobble?" This question, ladies and gentlemen, dear readers, has been answered.

I woke up to this email from the Lovely Cats:

this word was in a puzzle i just did.

be honest, have you ever seen it before?

axolotl


Ooooo! No, I hadn't! How exciting...

Aren't you excited? I knew you were. Because, as I said to Lithus, "I was so excited, not only did I have to look it up but I had to post on it!" And if I'm that excited, I know you are, too. (And in case you're wondering, no, I'm not joking. I'm this excited. It's a new word! It's a new thing to learn! Yeah ~ pretty damn gooby...and pretty damn excited, too. I'm okay with this.)

So! Here you go:

The axolotl (aːʃoːloːtɬ), Ambystoma mexicanum, is the best-known of the Mexican neotenic mole salamanders belonging to the Tiger Salamander complex. Larvae of this species fail to undergo metamorphosis, so the adults remain aquatic and gilled. The species originates from the lake underlying Mexico City and are also called ajolote (which is also the common name for Mexican Mole Lizards).^{[citation needed]} Axolotls are used extensively in scientific research due to their ability to regenerate most body parts, ease of breeding, and large embryos. They are commonly kept as pets in the United States, Great Britain (under the spelling axlotl), Australia, Japan (sold under the name wooper rooper Ūpā Rūpā) and other countries.

Axolotls should not be confused with waterdogs, the larval stage of the closely related Tiger Salamanders (Ambystoma tigrinum and Ambystoma mavortium), which is widespread in much of North America which also occasionally become neotenic, nor with mudpuppies (Necturus spp.), fully-aquatic salamanders which are unrelated to the axolotl but which bear a superficial resemblance. (source, wikipedia)

Cute little bugger, isn't he?

And now I know what to do with that X and those Ls.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Getting A Few Things Straight

1. If you do something that angers me, it is not appropriate for you to then get angry at me when I actually *gasp* get angry at what you have done. And yes, the reverse is true as well. I piss you off, I need to just let you be pissed and not get defensive and angry. No double standard. I can even understand completely where you're coming from ~ and it still might make me angry. Understanding and anger are not mutually exclusive things. Get over it.

2. I could give a shit about how much money has been spent on Sarah Palin's wardrobe*. The Republicans were in a no-win situation there. They spend a lot of money on her clothing and they get called out for it. They don't and people point to her packaging as further proof she's just a hick. Seriously, can we talk about issues and not about clothing? Please.

3. You do not get to claim that you handle all the details of a child's life...if you don't even bother to get him his flu shot or call the school when he is sick to ensure his absence is excused and frequently refuse to handle things hoping to screw over the other parent. If you are so willing to try to screw over the other parent that you are willing to let others be the ones who see him dressed to the nines for the first time in his life and then can't even tell him he looks good because the other parent is the one who helped make it happen ~ hell, you can't even claim to love the kid the most, let alone claim to be the one who handles it all.

4. The man who was on the right side of the helicopter when it went down, who is still in physical therapy from his injuries, who may never work in his chosen field again, deserves to be one of the men not caught up in layoffs. If you've only been with the company a few months and did get caught in the layoffs, shut the fuck up. I don't care that you can still fly. He's still not the one who should've been laid off.

5. Just because a neighborhood isn't occupied by mostly white folks doesn't make it a bad neighborhood. Are there bad neighborhoods? Oh. Hell. Yes. Can you tell if it's a bad neighborhood by driving through it? Probably. Can you tell by looking at the color of the residents' skin? Nope.

6. A blog is a good place to vent. Keeps the real life drama down. Now ~ let's go cope appropriately, shall we? And thanks.

* On a more amusing note ~ I read an article that had the headline: How To Shop Like Sarah Palin. The hook was: It's not easy to spend $150,000 on clothing. We know. We tried. Listen, if you can't spend $150,000 on clothing then they sent out the wrong journalist. Especially at places like Neiman's and Saks, let alone Talbots and Macys. You're an amatuer and I should have been given the assignment.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Locked Out

BOO on blogger who locked me out of my own blog for a few days. And apologies to anyone who tried to comment and couldn't because blogger had locked you out of my blog, too. And thanks to those who wrote when they couldn't comment. YAY on you. BOO on blogger.

So what has been happening while I've been locked out? Let's just sum it up some...

* Timber has gotten involved in his high school theatre and was the house manager for his first show this past weekend. On the one hand, I love this. I did theatre for so very long and it was such an incredibly large part of my life, who I was and who I've become as an adult. On the other hand...I remember high school theatre. I remember the cast parties. I remember the "adult supervised" parties. Mostly, I remember what high school girls think about the cute boys in their high school theatre. And I'm not so sure I love it quite so much. Suddenly, I find myself having to ask the question ~ do I tell him why teenagers like to play sardines and hopscotch and that they are Very Different games than they were when he last played them in elementary school gym class? I decided that, yes, I would give him the heads up so it didn't take him by surprise but that oh hell no I am not going to tell him how to play them differently. It's one thing to tell him they *can* be played differently. It's another to spell out the rules of the game.

* Sometimes, I miss my life in Massachusetts so badly it hurts. I wouldn't give up Lithus and Timber just for New England. And, sometimes, the fact that I had to choose is almost too painful to bear. Yeah...I've had a couple of those days here recently.

* The leaves in our neighborhood have changed. Overnight, they went from green to yellows and oranges and some reds. Magnificent. Really. It's nice to be somewhere where there is an Autumn.

* It's official ~ I've hit writer's block. That kind of writer's block where I am convinced I will never write another word and cannot understand how I managed to get two novels written in the first place. It's been coming on long enough now that I know it's official. I know in my logical, reasonable mind it will pass and yet...Lord, but I hate this kind of writer's block.

* Lithus hasn't changed since proposing. Neither have I. I think we are both secretly grateful. I know I am.

* I am really, Really (REALLY) over eating yogurt. Really.

And that's pretty much it after the last few days. It's nice to be back, even if my comments have to do the pop-put thingy now. What's up with you?

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Beating My Head Against the Wall

For the last hour, I have been filling out my ballot. Yes, the last hour. See, I admit I haven't done my research this year. I have researched the president and vice president and my state governor races but that's it. So, when earlier this week, I received a booklet in the mail outlining all the candidates and races, I kept it for this very reason. As I got to each vote, I read the statements around each initiative, each candidate, each platform. Twice, I flipped a coin. Otherwise, I read and thought carefully before filling in the square. Even the times I flipped a coin, I did so after reading and thinking carefully.

Across the table from me, sat Timber. Just a moment ago, right before I was finished, he looked over and said "You know, this took mom and me like twenty seconds. She was all like 'that person's a girl; let's vote for her' and 'I'm just voting democrat all the way down' or I would say 'that person's got a cool name, vote for them' and she would."

Seriously, I don't even know where to start.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Holy Shit, People!

I'm engaged. Yep. You read that correctly. Engaged. As in "getting married." As in "you, forever." As in "that thing I swore I would never do and, quite frankly, never want again." As in "Holy shit, people!"

Wednesday night, Lithus went out for a pack of smokes. He came back with an engagement ring. I was at my desk, finishing up some work and he asked if he could talk to me about a few things. I said sure, saved everything and spun around. He talked some and then next thing I knew, he was down on one knee, asking me to be his wife, asking to be my husband.

Holy shit, people!

And yes. I said yes.

• The ring is white gold with garnets.

• We haven't set a date yet but we're thinking probably this coming February or putting it off until next Autumn because there is no reason to even pretend we can get married during fire season.

• It will be an uber-small wedding. A lot of good friends aren't invited. In fact, we're not really having a wedding at all. We're getting married and we're telling a small group of people where and when and saying "If you want to be there, great. If we're too far away or too expensive or it doesn't work with your schedule, we understand. Otherwise, stick around because there will probably be cake." And that's about it.

• Hopefully, it will be as close to simply wandering down to the court house and meeting with a Justice of the Peace as it can be without actually wandering down to the court house and meeting with a Justice of the Peace.

I'm still a little in shock. It came out of the clear blue. There have been no conversations. No hints. No wandering through jewelry stores, exchanging meaningful looks and smiles. Nothing. But I'm happy. Happier than I have been in my adult life. Because bottom line is, after all the love and the in love and the schmoopiness, we just really, really like each other. Add the love and the in love and the schmoopiness...how could I have said no?



Holy shit, people!

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Borrowing

I am so not above borrowing. Not at all. A friend of mine is Jewish and she has loaned me her new year. In return, mind you, I have loaned her my Pagan one. We figure, we'll take all the fresh starts we can get.

Today, I am borrowing Lithus' Thanksgiving. Because if I can use all the fresh starts, then an extra day to remind myself to give thanks ~ yeah, I can probably use that one as well.



It's particularly special because Lithus is actually home today. He wasn't supposed to be. It's just worked out that way. What makes that especially nice is he is so rarely home for any holiday, but especially not his. His American-based company runs 365 days a year so little things like American holidays can't mean much ~ let alone things like Canadian ones. Also, this is the first time he's been with a partner who respected his holidays as much as she respects her own.

Now, the house is filled with the smell of roasting turkey, dressing and potatoes. Before too much longer, we will add the aroma of homemade pumpkin pie to it.

It's a quiet, gentle day ~ every much like the November Thanksgivings to which I am accustomed ~ and we are being quiet and gentle with each other. And giving many, many thanks.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, but especially to my Canadian readers. May you know your blessings when you can and feel their presence even when they aren't so obvious.

Those are thankful Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee and pumpkin pie.

SO Aesthetically Pleasing

I received this email from Nemeria in my inbox today:

My cousin is one of Cosmo's 2008 Hot Bachelors and he's in the running to be THE 2008 Hot Bachelor. His name is Andy DiGidio and he's from North Dakota. To vote you have to go to www.cosmopolitan.com Any chance you would be willing to advertise this on your blog? I know you have quite the readership. But again, I'm perfectly okay with you saying no.


Let's think this one through...

1. My oldest and one of my dearest friends in the whole world 2. sends me a link full of beautiful men 3. asking me to go look at them 4. while telling me she is actually related to one of them, 5. asking me to look hard enough to vote for him (because while I will be voting for him, I should really, really at least try to pretend to be unbiased and check them all out, right?) 6. AND complimenting my blog and 7. my blog readers.

Nope. No way I can deny this one (even if she is okay with me saying no; I'm not and it's my blog so there!)

So, go. Enjoy. Check out all the very pretty boys. And then vote for Andy DiGidio, the North Dakota bachelor. 'Cause ooooo...he is pretty. :)

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Birthday Post Take 2

The rest of my birthday was truly amazing. My guys went above and beyond for me. Check it out...

I went for a nap after we picked Timber up from school. Came down to decorations:





(and please note, they gave my dad his own party hat!)

Which, of course, means Lionel had one as well. Especially since he had given me a card...




I also woke up to fresh, still warm, homemade from scratch, pumpkin pie spice scones and tea "to tide us over until dinner"
Ooooh! I do love Lithus!

Of course, there was cake. Yellow cake with chocolate icing. And yes, I made it myself although Lithus was more than willing to do so (the man made homemade from scratch pumpkin pie spice scones; I think he could've handled a box cake ~ but it's kind of a tradition that I make my cake, so he let me.)



Although the gifts were all incredible, this one really touched my heart (as you can see from my reaction):




As I told Lithus and Timber last night, there is nowhere else I would rather have been last night then right here, at home, with them, to celebrate my birthday. Life is good, friends.

Those are grateful Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Birthday Post Take 1

Since I plan on having at least one more. That's the joy of being grown; you get to have as many birthday posts as you want.

Thirty-nine isn't sucking so far.

The day started with breakfast in bed and the birthday song. I managed to wake up just enough to register what was going on before cursing at Lithus for being so freakin' loud when I was still sleeping. And I wish I could post a picture but that would've required far more awake-ness than I was up to pre-coffee. However, breakfast was my favorite wheat toast, Irish cheese and fresh strawberries, along with the above big ol' mug of coffee, accompanied by new fuzzy pink slippers (I had walked the bottoms out of my old ones, literally), a card from Lionel, a card from Lithus and a small gift. Oh, and flowers by my bed. Again, this isn't sucking.

When I came downstairs, my desk was covered in more presents and cards. Those I will save for this evening, with cake and ice cream.

And although there have been several phone calls regarding Financial Words in between breakfast in bed and now, my co-author finally said "We'll do the rest of this tomorrow. It's your birthday. Go be happy. We'll get this done." So...I am. :)

Happy Birthday to me...

May everybody have a great day, as well!

Those are Birthday Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

A Birthday Hat

Tomorrow is my birthday. I don't know exactly what the guys have planned but I know they are out this afternoon and I'm not allowed with them. And I know that dinner is Lithus' homemade meatball subs, au gratin potatoes, Caesar salad, yellow cake with chocolate frosting and Baskin Robbins chocolate chip ice cream. Timber is thrilled.

I did, however, request a slightly more adult day/evening/dinner/something with Lithus. Yesterday, he delivered. In spades.

We went to the shore (or, as it is known out here, I'm learning, the coast).

We took our time driving. We talked and laughed and walked. We bought me a hat and wandered the shops. We were silly and happy. We laughed at the seagulls (they're brown out here! Who knew????) and stood arm in arm, snuggled up, watching the sunset over the water. Then went for seafood for dinner and ~ excitement of excitement! ~ they had homemade pumpkin pie. My first of the season.


I am happy. I am content without being complacent. I am in love and I am loved. It's not a sucky way to start a new year.


Happy birthday to me ~ just a little early.



Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Autumness

It's a word now, dammit! :)

Anyone who's read Pobble Thoughts for very long knows I am far more out with my religion here than I am in real life. However, I've taken a brave step and have actually set up a permanent altar. For the first time, it felt like the right thing to do. Lithus has been encouraging me to do so since I moved in with him and, technically, at the old place, there was a space for it. It just didn't feel like a good space for it. Here, though, there's space. And it feels like good space. So...we'll see.

This is a lovely time of year for me. I love the Harvest and Halloween decorations. Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday, followed by Halloween. There is something welcoming and warm about the oranges and pumpkins and apples and browns and reds when you walk into just about any store. Even when the temperatures are warm as they are now ~ hell, it's warmer now than it was in August ~ there is still something about the season.

Crow Mother called me today. Last year, we were together at Samhain. We are both crazy about Autumn. Our respective partners have always been very understanding about this and humored us lovingly and without patronizing us. However, to actually be together, with the other person who gets it last year was wonderful. We went a little pumpkin crazy, had some amazing jack o' lanterns, homemade pies, decorations...you get the idea. Earlier this week, I had teared up telling Lithus about it. Today, she called for the same reason. Thanksgiving can't come soon enough.

Last year, the one negative was the fact that it was impossible to find black taper candles. Appsrus sent me a dozen. I have horded them for the last year, being very careful to use them well. This year, black candles are readily available. And it's a good thing too because I am almost out of my Appsrus candles. So we're stocking up.

I'm actually living with someone who likes the same kind of decor as I (finally!) so we're actually stocking up on a lot more than just black candles. "Halloween" decorations that will find permanent homes in our home. Gorgeous black candlesticks, really cool placemats and raven glassware. Plus, my black feather wreath from my first Samhain single is getting hung in the living room where everybody can enjoy it.

Autumn is always good. This Autumn...well, this is how it's supposed to feel.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Poppy

About 11:30 Wednesday night, Lithus' phone rang. By 12:56 Thursday morning, he was a grandfather. And a proud one at that! We are tired and happy and thrilled beyond words. I mean, dude, a grandfather! A Poppy!



Note ~ While you have heard about Timber, you have yet to hear about his daughter (who needs a moniker now) because she is older and off living her own life, doing her own thing, being an adult. It is however, the daughter, not the 14 year old Timber, who has made him Poppy. Just to be clear.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and a cigar!