The calendar turned to December and I didn’t have the foreboding and anxiety about it as I did last year. December is on the list of hard months, but I don’t think the entire thing will be like that moving forward. Perhaps it will shake out to only be the tail end of it. This is, in the scheme of things, a good thing. I will absolutely take it.

Times have been busy. So maybe that helps.

I’ve been throwing myself into the new role at work while still doing my old role concurrently till January. Slamming out two CDs worth of music of my husband’s, writing regularly (and even including a writing contest in there because I’m a total masochist), holiday parties, Christmas tree (including purchasing, strapping to the roof with kayak straps, carrying inside/ set up, and decoration), outside Christmas light coordination (I paid a guy. Count it though, I had to schedule it and get the lights out), yard work, home repair and more Sisyphusian seeming painting, presents shopping for an upcoming birthday and Christmas both, etc, etc, etc. Sickness and losing my voice and billing issues with insurance and changing health insurances and a vacuum breaking… all the things. And the needs. Not sure which is worse- the things or needs.

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And the music project- that was a big lift, but my goodness I’m so thrilled to get it over the first milestone. And, horrifyingly, did you know that CDs are so vintage they are now back in fashion with today’s cool kids? So that project has involved compiling, remastering, sound cleanup, finding a company to work with on production and designing the covers with my artist/marketing/graphic designer friend. On the cover design I try to be easy going and then obsess over every tiny detail… so I’m sure that’s real fun for her. She’s a saint, that one and a really good fucking friend. There’s probably 2 more albums of music in all the songs I’ve now compiled… then I’ll put all the remaining bits and bobs together so the children can always have access to it. All of it digitized too and saved forever that way. My Love shall not perish from this earth, I tell you what. Not on my fucking watch.

It’ll go online only after it is copy-writed, though. That’s a requirement. Will anyone steal the funny song about our cat? Doubtful. But these songs were his and I’m making sure they stay that way. The funny part about that is that to copy-write it I have to transcribe them, which isn’t easy. The sound engineer in Morocco is writing sheet music out to each song, also the guitar tabs for them. And he’s great but I am also having to then pay someone else to double check it because I don’t read either. I am, rest assured, clearly seeing why all of this didn’t get done in the before time. It is okay though. I do it gladly and proudly.

And it isn’t as hard as it was, before. I’ve had a couple of nights of getting hit with some pretty horrible flashbacks as I’m trying to go to sleep. But mostly my dreams have been pleasant and of him and it is okay. I can listen to Lucas singing now without sobbing or getting misty eyed, even. I can smile at the memories the songs bring up- because they were good, you know? The past was so good with that one- and it makes me happy to remember it. My loss has pretty well and truly been integrated into my present, now. I am a walking temporal anomaly like that- past and present fused together in a way that I can survive and only occasionally wonder if it’s the healthiest way to go about it all, or not.

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People do keep making assumptions about me and where I’m at, though. I had a perfectly pleasant Thanksgiving with my brother, cousins, dad, friends, and aunt and uncle… and I was sitting there, a couple of times in the moment and going: Hey look at me! Laughing and with the lightness and the having a good time! And sure I didn’t drink anything and I did leave kinda early (after like 3 hours, I wasn’t in and out)- but I needed a nap and I hate watching football so that’s understandable, right? But the next day I got a long text from my aunt about how she could tell I was struggling and she knew how hard it all was on me. And I’d like to say I’m immune to being misunderstood or projected on, but this mental stability is all so tenuous that it knocked me for a loop. I asked my brother and my friend about it- and they both said I was fine and they’d both been proud to see how well I was doing, actually. It’s a hard thing, these days. Being misunderstood. I am trying to learn many lessons around it and grow some skin back over me as I do. I can toughen said skin up once it’s all grown back… one step at a time over here.

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And then there was another party- our neighborhood cookie party. Our neighbors are all great- many interesting characters (same group we do the neighborhood craft fair with). There are some younger folks but the girls and I do tend to be the youngest there. This is now 10 years of this party, and there is lots of sitting around a fire-pit and laughing and mingling… which the girls are always active participants in. And so last night (party was last night) when I went inside to grab a beer I had a newer neighbor grab my arm and tell me that my 9 year old had been telling her all about how awesome I used to be. And I had a real “no asterisk on it from grief” laugh and replied “I did used to be awesome! Still am today. But I used to be, too!” And she covered her face and went “Oh my god, that’s not what I meant!” And we laughed and another neighbor stuck her head around the corner and said my kid had just been telling her all about how I’d recently taken up knife throwing.

So you know. Get yourself some little hype men and watch the lore ripple through the neighborhood.

Anyway. It is good to be loved, have cool children who actually like you, and to have many, many friends. What can I say.

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In other, and admittedly less important seeming news, I finally (after 4 tries over the last year) figured out how to take off the head to the string trimmer, how to respool it, found out what size line to use, and then edged my entire yard. My brain just wasn’t working well enough yet to figure it out the previous 3 times I tried… but I did finally get it. This made me very, very annoyed and very, very proud of myself. Up until this point I’d either borrowed a trimmer or had a friendly neighbor or uncle offer to do it with their equipment. But 17 months in and here we are. Cross it off the list.

And also, Ryobi can be first against the wall when the revolution comes and then burn in the pits of hell for all eternity for naming this model “Easy Reel.” Backwards threaded screws, anyone? My god. My absolute god with this thing.

No wonder men have more heart attacks.

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And quasi-finally just a funny thing: last weekend I actually put on makeup and did my hair… and then took a midday nap- resulting in this glamour shot. I swear I was just documenting the cat as it thrills me every time he curls up like that.

That’s me suddenly wondering if sleeping in makeup is as bad as they say and if I shouldn’t make it a daily habit.

Then I woke up like this:

That’s me wondering how many times his dirty fucking foot has been in my mouth while I sleep over the last couple of years.

Oh well. What ya gonna do.

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And now- the regular grouping of memes for you, from the last week or so, because I must be off. Many miles to go before I sleep and all.

Till next time.