Dateline: Oct. 26, 2020; Lady Proverbs, somewhere on the Oregon Coast
Yeah, 2020 sucks, blah, blah. My summary: Dad cancer, Dad died, COVID birthed, lived with 90 year-old Mom 4 months (sorry long-suffering husband-o-mine), retired at 61 ’cause I was simply done with it all, moved to coast, planned new pre-fab house, dementia grabbed Mom in a tsunami and Mom Jeckle and Mom Hyde roared in, worked with sibs on her memory care, everyone hurts from it, us and Mom. Third fucking strike for 2020.
So, yeah, being in Oregon and all, self-medication is legal, low cost and boy do edibles come in handy when Mom-stress, politics-stress, and retirement bullshit stress reaches the brain, the heart and the bowels. Don’t those clouds look pretty?
Not sure if this blog will amount to much, but I do think women of my era can get lost in the shuffle of the more “interesting” age categories. I was fucking exciting too, you know, when I was young and living in Africa and doing shit that was so dangerous it scares me now almost 40 years later. And I was cute too, that was kinda fun, although I didn’t appreciate it until I look at the old photos and wonder, what the fuck happened? Guess it’s just the march of time, right.
But then I don’t really care that much. No face lifts for this Oregon gal. Like it or lump it, this is my visage, people.
This should be fun. Hope I keep up with my blog and I’m not a scattered and inattentive Gemini running along the beach and combing for pretty shells instead of working on my novel or writing this blog. Yeah, I do that living at the beach shit too. That’s cool.
As the Mercedes pulled over to pick us up, the boyfriend and I looked at each other with hope. Until the car sputtered to a halt. The white man rolled the window down and I bent to talk to him. Yes, he was headed to Francistown! Then the ‘but’ came. “I have to stop at […]
Mother of Miss Teen Pantyhose was quite the conversationalist as we hit the road on the four hour journey to Francistown, sometimes called the Northern Capital of Botswana. She told my boyfriend to sit in the front, still considering herself to be young and extremely attractive, able to flirt and be flirted with. And while […]
A True Story of My Sometimes Wayward Days in Botswana “My daughter was Miss Teen Pantyhose of South Africa, you know.” I knew it was critical to our plans for a ride back north to respond exactly right to this statement of obvious pride in her daughter’s accomplishment. It did beg the question, though, whether […]
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