Not going to do it. Give Up.

It has occurred to me lately that I need to make a new list. (right? shocking.) But this list is in fact, something new, to me.

I need to make a list of things that I’m not going to do. And feel contentment seep in, with the release of the niggling feeling that I should be doing these things.

For instance

  • I am not going to minimalize. Really, I’m not going to have an empty countertop. I like the look of it, but I like to ‘use’ space, see my things, and have everything close at hand. My sink will not, in general, be empty, or shiny.
*in making the list, i’ve got to be careful not to close doors i want to keep open. I mean, I could say i’m not going to win the lottery, but hey, if i start buying tickets, i’ve got the same odds as anyone. So it does not go on the list.

2. I am not going to have more babies. (yeah, boy! that means something relatively new and fantastic in sex. so fantastic.) I can buy baby clothes without having my breasts leak. And, I can release the need to look like i’m 27, and I can welcome the belly that gave me the babies. (ok, well to be totally transparent, i’ve got too much welcoming going on, and need to take alittle better care of myself, food wise)

3. I’m never going to be a party girl. I’m never going to be in a large group of people who are all drunk, because I will always have the freedom to leave, and leave i will. I will never be a party girl. I will always leave early. I probably don’t want to come to your cookout, because I’m scared a little. (this one tears at me, still, sadly, but it is completely and utterly true. never.) I’m not going to be the jolly girl that everyone loves. few will get to know me, because I don’t talk about myself. (except here.)

4. I might not be married to someone for fifty years. I’m not sure this one really matters, but it is a growing acceptance. I’m not giving up on finding the someone, but marriage and longevity are less and less likely. I can be okay with that. There is much in my life. GOD, i am pretty damn sure I don’t want to get married again. Can you imagine that?

5. I am not going to homestead. I’m not going to survive on food that I have grown myself. I love that I canned tomatoes last year, but guess what? I never used them. I refuse to be making more waste for the world. I refuse. And God Knows how much I don’t want to preserve kale, or eat a thousand pounds of zucchini. If the zombie apocolypse comes, I have enough refried beans and chicken broth to last me a long long time. I will also eat my dog. But don’t tell him.

  • 6. I’m not going to be the ‘it girl’ for everyone. Some people will love my breasts but give a toss for me. Some people will think I’m aloof. (idiots) or maybe judgemental. (clearly not.) HA. But some people are just not going to get me and some people are not going to care one way or another.
  • 7. I’m not going to make flawless use of technology. I just don’t care enough. So its going to look like this, and my ocd friends, I’m sorry.
  • 8. I’m not going to stop making mistakes. I’ll never be perfect, flawless, or even ‘all-put-together’. So there. I give up.
*Another thing that is funny is that i find resistance in the oddest places. I am not going to do cartwheels? I don’t want to type that one, because maybe…. how odd, and somewhat ludicrous, but really. Also, Katherine Hepburn pants… why can’t I? notice and move on.

What can you give up on? This is my new ‘ultimate coaching’ stratagem… GIVE UP. GIVE UP.

🙂 love love,



woman wearing brown leather chunky heeled shoes
Frankly, I could swing these, in petite. Photo by Dellon Thomas on


Bullets clattering.

  1. My son turns 16 today, is already 16, in fact. What a joy that kid is. I admire the hell out of him and can’t wait to see what his life will hold. ( i mean, i can wait, i can wait, but it will be a joy, it will.)
  2. I’m supposed to be writing a shit ton today. I’m not. Its not quite ten and i’ve been eating a lot. Birthday boy isn’t here, I had my celebration for him last night. I feel unhinged. Do fathers feel this or is it the damn chromosome thing of female?
  3. I mowed the lawn this morning to try and beat the heat and discovered that barefoot is actually not safe and also, that random swerves and curvy paths are not as satisfying when you only mow for a half hour. i have a maze-like path i have to follow in order to get to the garden without walking in tall grass. This morning’s interpretive mowing was shortsighted.
  4. I just had the most fun ordering the summer reading books for the boys. Honestly, I’m going to read them all, including some re-reading. Slaughterhouse 5? BABY! And, i don’t think i’ve ever read Black Boy, by Wright, so I should. And I will. Best summer morning ever. (see #2)
  5. I’m also writing here, (#2 again) and I feel good about it, shimmering in my sweat as I am, I feel good about it. Having books coming in the mail is a pretty damn enticing thing. I have to finish the writing in order to make money to buy more books. Someone help me (besides the two people i have already enlisted to hold me accountable. Oh god.)
  6. I downloaded an app which will block my from social media when I ask it to. So helpful and I’m incredibly aware of my own self-disdain. “For chrissakes kate, just press ‘off’!” well, thank you very much, inner critic bitch.
  7. I don’t have any more bullets. I’m out. Hiding behind the suv in the shootout, no ammo. Either come and rescue or let it be quick. Maybe the work won’t see me if I crawl under the suv?
grassy meadow with flowers in nature
Not my lawn, but a happy one! Photo by Jill Burrow on


love love,



Birthday #47

Its great. I am always floating on my birthday, no matter what happens. I force my kids now, to make me a card. And its accompanied by a million groans and comments about lameness. and still i get a card so i feel the golden light in me flickering.

47. I have a friend who says that typically 47 is a crisis year for women. a real mid-point. (she is also 47) I say, I’m pretty strong right now, though tired, I’ll deal with whatever comes.

And. I’ve filled this past week with friends, one way or another. A super long phone call with the bestie, who will visit in august for the first time in many years. All the stories and reality tv of our dreams. or naps. but together!!

I saw a friend for burgers mid-week who was so very happy to see me.

My mom and sister took me out to a stunningly placed restaurant in my very own town. Fish tacos for the win.

I had a friend I haven’t seen for over two years come down and spend hours with me just watching a movie and talking. Alien. I had never seen it so had to do a little pacing and out-loud talking to the screen and the clear idiots on it. (I am definitely not a quiet thriller-watcher) I just watched the trailer again in order to link it up there, and couldn’t handle the ominous buildup feeling. Good lord. But its funny, so damn funny, to be so thrilled. And friends that love you are a bonified treasure.

Friends that love you are a bonified treasure.


So I feel that, a lot, this birthday week. Love. and some hope trickles in. It makes such an enormous difference.

I don’t think I was entirely aware how much I was lacking it, hope. I can be very bogged down in the practical, believe it or not. 🙂

The sands are always shifting, right? And sometimes, they’ll bring you right to the oasis. Sometimes. They can. And why not?

Maybe I should get me some lottery tickets. (my almost 16 year old starts driver’s ed this week. Might need the boost.)


Love love, and hope.


My mom and sister both have one of these. Now it’s my turn. That’s a lucky stone right there- the stripe, the striation. That’s me…. Lucky.


8000 words

Summer has blown my brain up. It was faster than I expected, this falling to pieces bit. I feel pretty flustered by the demands and the comparisons between the funhouse and the momhouse. I suppose I should just give in and do what they want, or suddenly be the person who makes plans. (not my forte)

I’m a go-along girl, always have been.

I used to judge myself for it. But I don’t anymore. And, when i need to, i can kind of make a plan. kind of. Trying to entertain myself when the kids are gone is pretty damn tough. No one to go-along with? Its been a pretty tough learning curve, and I am really not close to done.

Thankfully my eldest teen makes his own plans. So there is that. One taken care of. The other two ? They are learning.

god. I hate summer. (i mean, no i don’t.) It challenges me all day, every day, and I think I use fall and winter to rest, and recuperate.

But yesterday, my friends, with the fires lit under my ass by some friends, and the kids away with funparent, I wrote 8000 words.

8000 words. It feels like the beginning of a tidal wave, somehow. It is definitely a personal record, and was definitely necessary if I’m to have any hope of finishing my current job on time.

8000. What a fantastic number.

Don’t you want to dance around in it? Shimmy in your silver dress?

I do. I really do.

(too bad I need another few days of that kind of victory to be all done. I asked for the month of july off, with no work from this particular client. Went over like a bag of bricks. So, I have to get this done and well, and soon. And shockingly, the days are full of things, and lulls and more things, and I find it hard to sit and type, and dream and write. Shocking. BUT! I am hopeful now, because I am well underway. So hopeful. )

Its amazing to me how hung over I feel this morning. I sat down to get another few pages in, and my brain was disconnected from the process. I’m literally in another, liminal, space, half in my own katebowie mind, and half in a world of bartenders and fae spirits. Yes, that’s what this one was/is about.

So dang, my friends. 8000 words.

and tomorrow is my birthday. Shamalamadingdong.

how i keep track. It helps me to see, and begin to pick out patterns. Boy, my mornings can be busy. WTF, indeed. 🙂 Kind of like the notes I made when I was keeping track of contractions. Yeah.

love love,



so. summer. its here. (sustain)

Its tuesday, it is technically the fourth and a half day of summer. (not counting the weekend when they are at their dads, if so, that would be two more days, because facts matter. actual facts, i mean.) I have had children tell me they hate summer salads. I have had children crying because they can’t do something every day. Teenagers have cried on the inside at my absolute bitchery. what happens on the outside is sullen, and often involves speed-dialing their dad to complain. this makes me feel SOOOOO good.

Also? this is the second day of non-beachy weather and so, kindof home-bound. I have had talks about how we can’t get ice cream every day and if we’re going to buy the ‘pitch back’ and the ‘gymnastics bar’, then we are going to have to figure out how to like summer salads, because take out is for special events, not EVERY GODDAMN DAY. I have had talks, to deaf ears (not my own) about how to fill time when bored. Today I will take a phone away, for the charges I found when I woke up this morning. It will be banner. BANNER.

GUys. This is tuesday, of the first full week.

(and i have 30,000 words to write in the next ten days.)

(i’m getting up very early. werk.)

I’m fine! I really am! I’m going to be fine! I’ve done this before. I’m totally chill. I don’t mind driving them around, I don’t. I could do with a little less complaining for their charmed lives, but I’m fine. we’re good. Next year, everyone is getting a damn job. Less time means less complaining, right?

Not my bunnies. But just like ’em..Photo by Pixabay on

I’m still poet-ing with my old friend and I just love it. There is a piece of me that is so damn happy to still be alive, alive enough to be poet-ing.

the latest thing I wrote in that exchange? This:

-am watching a baby bunny outside,

clover and green are what sustain.

and me too, these small things sustain.

Sweet, right? So tiny. but so lovely.

sustain, baby.

love love,