Where to begin. Again.
Something might have me writing again, or so it feels at the moment, and I’ll get to that eventually. But first: how about a quick summary of what my life has been since :::checking last regular posting::: November 2012? Six years. Seems like forever! Seems like a day.
2013. This was a difficult year. Work was unsteady due to several grants ending. I had to piece together full time employment from several different sources, some less fulfilling than others, but all were similar coordinating and program management sorts of tasks that have been my calling since 2000. Ten years into our mortgage and some mounting debt started to get uncomfortable; we needed to get out of a bad line of credit that we never should have taken in the first place. The good news was that our house appraised for a bit more than we purchased it, and our refi with the credit union went smoothly and we’ve been in good shape ever since. (Fuck you Countrywide. Fuck you Wells Fargo. Fuck you Bank of America.) Whew. In April we lost Gomez – the Epitome of Uncomplicated Good, and the softest softy that ever lived – and then, in October, Ashleycrumb – our fierce blind princess – both from sudden and aggressive cancers. My grief is complicated to this day. I miss them constantly. Over the summer I had sprained my ankle again, badly. Actually I sprained both at the same time: first I lurched one way, then the other, then back again, and then I was lying in the yard, my gardening implements flung away, Weezie gazing down at me from the window. “Help. Weeze, go get help.” Eventually Lolly heard my moaning and came to rescue me. So, a tough year, but there were good things too. I kept up with the knitting for a while. I did some water aerobics at the local pool with my dear Uncouth Heathen. In September, Lolly and I were legally married. We had some witnesses and an officiant, and some prepared foods brought in from Whole Foods, and voila! Married. Then in November, for my birthday, I was walking home from the bus stop in the evening and Lolly approached me with a cocktail. I had called her earlier in the day and was surprised to find her out and about in the world (all the way in SHORELINE!). She wouldn’t tell me why. The reason was in the B’Room, still in his kitty-carryall, mewing up a storm. I had seen his picture before, but Franklin was so much more adorable in person. He clambered out of the carrier, onto my boobshelf, and he’s been there ever since. You see, Little, after losing his two best Canadians, was quite sad. Lolly thought he needed a new kitten. I didn’t put up too much of a fight.
2014. Franklin grew. I kept working. Lolly kept working. I played “DISQUIET” on Words-With-Friends and scored 269 points. My mother came for her annual visit in June; we stayed local. In July – I’m sure you’ve anticipated this already – I sprained my ankle. Frankly, I don’t even remember how I did it this time, but the proof is in my photo library: an ugly, purple, swollen ankle, from several angles. I had a bangin’ vegetable garden that year, and we got a new furnace.
2015. I tore the drop ceiling out of our living room, plastered over the holes I made (badly), and painted it. Willie, our new handyman, dug up the backyard and put down a pretty patio. I started a new project at work and hired two of the most lovely young people ever, who I still see regularly and keep me optimistic for the future. No small feat, as you can well imagine. I made gluten-free croissants for Lolly. It took days. We had some visitors and some dinner guests. My garden banged out a bitchin’ crop of hot peppers. Fall came and I wallpapered the living room. Everyone got older.
2016. My sister left Moscow and moved to Seattle in the beginning of the year; she stayed with us for a few weeks before finding her own place on Capitol Hill around the corner from the building Lolly and I moved into in the summer of 2000. I had a lot of physical therapy. My mother came out for her annual visit in the summer and we played tourist again: up the Columbia Tower, around the renewed Museum of History and Industry, and out to the Cascade Mountains. Lolly discovered flowers, and the joy of growing them in our yard. I survived the primary presidential campaign season by binge watching Lost Girl and rediscovering the joy of LEGO. I did not survive the election. Lolly did. Probably because a week later she brought another kitten home for Little. Her name is Harriet. She is a Ragdoll. She is Very Plushy.
2017. The only thing I finished knitting was a pink pussy hat. Due to a fucked up foot (are you surprised?) I wasn’t able to join in the Women’s March in January, but I felt every heartbeat around the world that day. I wept. And maybe started breathing again. I kept working. Lolly kept working. All five of our cats kept living. In May we started redoing the kitchen with Willie the Handyman and his crew: floor, counter, dishwasher, sink, tiles, furniture, and painting the walls and cabinets. I am still not completely finished. In August, I stared directly into the eclipse. I went to BrickCon, just as an observer. I dressed Weezie in a Wonder Woman costume. Harriet grew.
2018. In spite of the state of the world today, and that it’s been an exceptionally hard year for Lolly, we are hanging in there. I’m going to try to NaBloPoMo this year. In order to hit all my entries, I will surely have to fill in the details on some of these events, as best I can recall, anyway. Wish me luck!
