Today and then Tomorrow.

My best friend arrives tomorrow.

Haven’t seen her in eight years. She flew here when my dad had his heart attack and helped us with the decision to let him go. She’s a nurse and just the whole world for me as best friends go. I met her when we worked in the same store in Key West. She was my boss. She was the first person I knew in her thirties who still seemed cool. (oh boy, i was young.) She still seems cool and its been twenty something years.

and she knows everything i’m about to type because i’ve already told her.

-i’m scared she’s going to not like me. (ten minutes after i set out for the airport, this will go away.)

-i’m scared I’ll forget to feed her again and she will think i mean something by it. (past event. i am soooo clueless sometimes. oh my god.) in truth, i don’t think that will ever happen again because it was so scarring.

-our plans include lots of tv, a beach, plenty of boxes or bags of candy, some alcohol, maybe a pack of cigarettes and i might make her visit a mansion in newport, and maybe have dinner out somewhere.

-and thats it, i mean, really, thats the whole and all of what i can think about right now. dither tither to and fro and all that mumble jumble.

-also, did i mention that the kids are away for the first four days of her visit?

heh heh heh. hopefully we will not end up on a police blotter.


kiss kiss, mwah.


photo of girl carrying her sister
Here we are as children, when we didn’t know each other and were slightly more Asian. . . I’m the one in red, but the color suits her better than me. Photo by Migs Reyes on

Sweeping Realizations

I’m serious.

The realizations have been sweeping over me like a summer thunderstorm.

  1. Most men out there don’t deserve me. Couldn’t handle me. And that is the truth. I’m a genuine, bonified friend, and I focus on other people most of the time. And I don’t know what people are looking for, except not that, from me. I love hard and deeply and fast, and then need to be reassured that it is reciprocated. If I can’t find myself reassured, I will make up stories to tell myself I’ve made a mistake again, and should withdraw. That’s my story, that’s my pattern.
  2. We had a good shot at recognizing the power of the little people in this pandemic. There was a long, hot moment where we all recognized that it was the grocery store workers and the delivery drivers that were keeping us afloat. The small businesses that completely upended their way of doing things to satisfy the new status quo. They saved us, kept us going. (not amazon itself, but the truck drivers. see the difference?)
  3. If i had all the money in the world I would not spend millions on a amusement park ride to the edge of the atmosphere. I guess I’m just built that way. Its not glorious, but it is true.
  4. I don’t care about a lot of this mask bullshit. I’m fine with having my kids wear them. I’ll wear them. Whatever. Call me a sheep or an educated person, whatever. I just don’t care that much. If i am misguided? I don’t fucking care. The merest hint that it might help someone else? Yeah, I’m going to wear a fucking mask. Sometimes I wear one just to keep my 8 year old company. Yeah, you heard me.
  5. I’m not very financially sound. I feel this. Yet i have all this money coming in that I am given by the court system. So I can not complain, but I really feel the insecurity of it, still depending on someone else. It is not aligned with who I am. Yes, I am working on it, but I am not working on it to my satisfaction, so there is that.
  6. I’m never going to try eggplant. I told someone at my farmstand job that i just needed to grow up and try to cook it to my satisfaction. I realized this week that I was lying. I hate eggplant. I see no reason to change my mind about this. I can eat carrots, and zucchini all the livelong day, and be completely fine. Fuck growing up and eating eggplant. WHY? WHY?
  7. I do love doing what I want, not looking like everyone else and not giving a flying fuck. except when I hate it, and wish for all the opposite thing fruitlessly. Its amazing how sharp a swing it is. At least now I’m only dealing with perimenopause and not puberty. (can you feel the sweaty sarcasm dripping there? Let it be known, I am dropping all sorts of shit as soon as I hit 60. I swear it. As long as I don’t need to medicate to deal with the consequences of my actions, I am done. And i’m smoking again when I hit 70. that too. fuck it. )

So thats my story. I am still procrastinating. I had a whole day this week when it was intensely hot and I just lay on my sofa (after doing yard stuff and roof stuff) and moaned. I swear to god. I didn’t even open the project, even once. I am totally screwed. utterly.)


8. I’m an optimist. Despite all of it, I still think its going to turn out allright. I can get it done. I will find or bump into someone who does deserve me and I will recognize it and not freak out.

love you guys,

really do.

  • me.


An ass-kicking

Family style, work.

My mom had been telling me that my uncle wanted to teach my boys how to paint, for a couple of months if not since the last time I saw him, pre-covid. This is my dad’s brother, the skinniest man alive.

So, I knew, when he came to visit my mom, that he would probably spend a morning here. He is 78 years old and a powerhouse of work ethic. He lives in Florida now so mostly its a twice a year proposition.

He called me last weekend to make sure I knew what supplies to get, which made me realize the error of my ways.

My kid owed me money for utlizing paypal without asking (big fucking no on that.) So my uncle had a chance to teach him how to scrape down stair risers, let them dry and then prep them for painting, and then paint them.

Which he did.

Oh, and then they hauled. And they powerwashed.

My uncle also uncovered the patio pavers, which were covered almost entirely by grass and the dirt and friends that grass brings.

He and my mom restored part of my garden to beauty, pruning a rose bush back into a non-dangerous specimen and giving me a chance to see my daylilies again. By doing so, they uncovered the peeling of the paint on the breakfast nook that my uncle had seen at his last visit. it had bothered him. this would be at Thanksgiving, of pre-covid, so… November 2019. I’m going to type it out, yes, the peeling paint on my window sills bothered my uncle twenty one months ago.

So, the whole point of this post is here. Make a list. Cross things off. Its the best thing in the whole world. (for your nieces.) A long list, a 21 month list.

Honestly, my mom and uncle kicked my ass. They worked like beasts and my kids and I ran around following orders and pulling away tarps full of yard debris. A deck was powerwashed by me, in the fervor of ‘oh my god, work!’ … I made lunch once, drove to pick up lunch once, went to work once… It was two long half days and I’m really truly giddy with some of the things they did.

Its kind of amazing to realize how much things weigh on you, that aren’t even making your lists. It can feel pretty insurmountable here, this house, this yard. It really can.

That said, I’m going to go paint another stair riser, because I wrote a bunch this morning, and I really want to paint more.

A list!

but first, some more painting.


Monday again. Queen of Procrastination here.

This has been a very weird summer for weather here. So much moisture. Either humidity to knock you down or just plain rain. The gardens are lush, but much of my tomato world is not ripening, because SUN, mr. golden sun, hasn’t been shining down on me.

If you know that song and it is stuck on a loop in your brain right now? I’m sorry and welcome to my world.

I’ve got a big writing project and I’m spending a lot of time avoiding it. This is not good. Seriously. Yesterday I watched a bunch of tv, used the weedwhacker in between bouts of fixing the damn string on the weedwhacker and bought a damn wheelbarrow, which I have been needing for a damn long time. I have big plans for it. But working in the rain kind of sucks. and dudes, i am supposed to be writing. My brain is a damn wild horse and I’d rather just watch it run than get the damn thing corralled.


I finished a book this week too. The Memento, by Christy Ann Conlin. Really liked it. Makes me think of Grey Gardens a lot, but with kids, and Canada, and a little bit of supernatural thrown in. Well-written and thought-filled.

I’m also reading Slaughterhouse Five again. I’ve got a kid who has my delicious ability to procrastinate and we’re both flying high with not doing the right things in the right order. So, I’m reading it and he’s sleeping, and I’m not working. Win.

Because clearly, I have time. (WTF?)

Lousy pictures taken with a laptop. but cheez. I don’t really care, and I do, all at once. Sigh.

I’m off to find something to do besides write, I guess.

I predict, I mean. I’ve got ten days left to get the majority of this thing done, and I’ve got ten percent of it done. TEN.

in ten days my beloved friend that i haven’t seen in 8 years will arrive and i’m so happy i want to lie down like a whale on a beach and die. (or be saved, i think thats way better than the other.) Someone roll me into the shallows please, with twinkies, and some ringdings please. Maybe pizza and a beer?

Ah shit. Someone motivate me. Please?



My moods are so erratic lately. I’m fine, I am, and when my moods shift, I’m able to watch them while experiencing them. its a little surreal, actually.

I dropped my kid off to camp and haven’t heard from him in five days. This is as it should be, but my god. Its phantom pain, I know, the missing limb calling to me from his barefooted happy place.

my sixteen year old applied for his permit to drive. it was blocked because my license was expired and the birth certificate was not original. So, as far as he is concerned, it was all me. Believe me, I feel the guilt.

I did a great job in a weekend of driving, seeing places that were stunning in their beauty and their role in my past, and driving to greataunts and uncles and cousins and then some more driving. I only made one kid nauseous, once.

I did yoga this morning and for the first time ever, was probably the youngest there. there was a great deal of focus on ‘i am.’ and i’m into that, and lost about it sometimes. it still kicked my ass and is making me a little grumpy.

And my mood on this rainy day makes me want to go into a dark cool cave and sit with my nose to the stone, shutting it all down somehow. I’m feeling overstimulated.

I had my tarot read for me when I got back from my trip, and her first question was, ‘are you very tired?’ and i laughed and laughed until it went crazy sideways. a doozy. I really liked her ways, I know her in person happily but i do, i do, i recommend her highly to anyone who feels like a virtual reading, you can do google meet so you can see her face, or you can do it over the phone. your call, lovelies. You can find her at and on instagram at @paper.birchtarot Have at it. What I find, is that what comes up in cards and in questions, is what i’m already thinking of. Its not magic, (unless you want it to be) … its just reminders, and reminders are necessary. Like, bat-to-the-head necessary.

like, kate, take care of yourself. just baby steps. and remember you’re a goddamn joy bubble. anyone who doesn’t like it can take a flying leap. (um, joanna didn’t say that. but i did.)


love you. i figure this once a week thing might stay through til the kids go back to school. just the way it is.

love you, love you.


nature people woman sun
Tarot decks are all different. This one is animals, the one Joanna used had people… Its all just reminders, dudes. Take it how you want to… Photo by RODNAE Productions on