Two and A Half Men? Is this a healthy show?

I love Two and a Half Men – the old one with Charlie.  But sometimes I think that it’s not the healthiest show to watch.  I mean, Charlie with all those sexy skinny girls and older ones are generally not appealing to him.  Although the older ones, in fairness, that he did like were too smart for him.  So it’s a catch 22 when watching it.  But I can’t help but think about my sagging boobs (wait!! they were always saggy!!) and my extra weight around my belly and below my waist which they call love handles, but to me they are just four pounds of extra butter.  I know I can work it off, but there is no reason compelling enough for me to want to at this time.  Winter and cold early spring make me turn into a bear.  Hybernation.  I’m so looking forward to the sunshine and warm weather and being able to take my bicycle out.  49 1/2.  I remember at 42 dating guys younger – 36, 38 – and finding out that they wanted to be with me simply because back then they figured I’d end up with a good settlement from my divorce.  They made fund of my old body.  You think being young is tough.  Try aging.  But going out with older men is not any better unless you are 10 to 15 years younger then them, which means I’d have to date a 60 to 65 year old.  Maybe that’s not so bad in this day and age, but even to that, they are dating 30 year olds.  No winning.  Men have it made.  No matter what age, no matter what size, they get the younger women and leave us leather faced oldies to just sit and ponder about life while they woop it up with their younglings.  I’m not bitter, just sometimes disenfranchised with this whole thing about relationships.  Maybe why I like being alone, writing, and hanging out with Hampy and my animals.  Having said that, there still is an intimacy missing there.  Someone to hold, even if on occasion.  Someone to tell you they love you no matter what.  Someone who excites you and you them.  Maybe I’m too old for all that now, but I still want it.  Not looking anymore, but if I am made to have that, then God will provide.  Until then I remain The Girl In The Barn.

Warrior – Shared on Facebook Tonight. Ironic To My Previous Post

“When a warrior becomes aware of obstacles that must be removed from his\her path he\she will take swift action to clear the way. Once the negatiivity is removed there will be no welcome mat for return. A warriors lightl always outshines anothers darkness and all the smoke and mirror illusions of manipulation and deceit.” ~ Raindrops by Raine Vance (c)2012

Excerpt From An Email To A Sister

As for coats, yes please, dishes – bowls in particular, glasses? YES… 🙂  I am not proud, if it’s being given away, I will definitely look at it and be grateful for it. I am grateful for everything I get. For all the love I get. For the family I have. For all the beautiful memories. I have learned through these past two years to focus finally on the good that was, with my family, with my ex, with my children, and move forward carrying those beautiful memories. What happens next only God knows, but I’m happy for the most part. They say that a loss is like an amputation. You learn to live with it, but it will always be a missing part. It’s how you choose to live with it that counts. Losses have different degrees, but they all are some form of amputation. This I believe. And whether to give up or find a way to inspire with it are also choices we make.

This May Sound Religious, But It’s Not – It’s About Faith and Questions

I love Jesus.  I used to pray to him every night when I was a child.  Brought up Catholic, I had my Holy Bible (in French), my Rosary, my two candles on both sides of my kneeling area (never lit because I wasn’t allowed to deal with fire), and my book of prayers.  I said my “Je vous salut Marie, pleine de grace”, and my “Notre Père Qui Est Aux Cieux” with my rosary that was blessed by the Pope.  I wanted to be a nun.  I lived in this world until I was 11 years old and moved back to Canada from Turkey and met boys.  At this point my faith started waning.  Slowly but surely there were too many questions, too many unanswered questions, too much in the bible that weren’t answered in the Catholic Church that I wanted answers for.  Like, dreams.  I had dreams that were premonitions, but the Catholic Church said that was impossible.  Why not?  Did Mary and Joseph not see in their dreams the words God wanted to tell them when Angels came down to talk to them in their dreams?  Or what about Joseph?

I became disenfranchised.  I lost all that I had until I had my second child at 31.  Suddenly I realized all that I had asked for and prayed for in God’s name came to me.  Some important, some not.  But all of them were amazing gifts.  But I lost my relationship with Jesus.  God was always there, Jesus I couldn’t feel anymore.

Tonight I have an epiphany.  Jesus, unlike God, is a brother, son of God.  I know this sounds bizarre, but I have a wonderful earthly father who gives me glimpses of how God feels about me.  But I never had a brother.  I don’t know what that relationship is like.  I still don’t, even if I have two sons and one daughter.  I don’t understand the relationship between my sons and their sister because I have not been around them in their growing years.  I have only seen what their childhood was like.  Until they turned 13.  And those years, and what I do hear while I’m listening to them, they still distance their sister from their lives because she is not like them.  She is a female.  So I guess, no matter what I will not learn what it it is like to have a brother.

My experience with my ex husband, who I tried to make not just my husband but my best friend, ended up business partners, an affair, and ended.  My second longest relationship ended up with an affair as well, albeit we remain best friends.  But neither could give me honesty, loyalty, friendship and love unconditionally.  Or maybe one has.  Maybe one has come above the call of duty when it came to me looking at him when my guard is down he brings it up as a brother, a friend, a loyal person who is there.  Or is it because my guard is down and he knows my vulnerabilities?  And it makes him feel sorry for me?  Or is it because he feels he owes me when his guard was down and I took care of him in his vulnerabilities?  I chose to because I wanted to and I did care for him unconditionally.  Not something you can teach anyone.  But unlike my earthly father, this man still lies too, although I’m trying to teach him that I know when he lies and to stop.  He’s learning.  Slow process, too afraid to hurt, but lies found out are more hurtful than truth.

Jesus was an honest “man”, son of God, loved all unconditionally.  I suppose my sons love their sister the same way.  She’s lucky to have brothers but she moved away from faith and love of God, yet she has a key I will never have.  My earthly father gave me to key to God.  All I would love is even a surrogate brother to give me the key to Jesus.  One that loves me unconditionally, doesn’t lie to me, is honest, true and a best friend.

Wait.  I do have one.  How dare I forget?  Only thing is he doesn’t believe.  But he is all that I described.  Honest, true, best friend and doesn’t lie to me.  He is like my big brother.  He loves me unconditionally and believes in me and understands me no matter what.

This is a lesson.  when you really search for that person, look no further then the person you hear from most every day, who wonders where you are if you haven’t written something in a day on a blog, or an email.  A person who’s heart is, even if he doesn’t know it, a reflection of my faith that a brother does exist in my life.  Big brother, wise, true, kind, and sometimes stubborn and too smart.  LOL.

I wrote this tonight because I knew the ending to this story.  But I wanted to make sure there was an intro to it all.

To my earthly father, my earthly big brother who I love both dearly.  Thank you for making me know what truth, love, faith and hope are about.  With love being the most important of all.

Thank You God For My Pillows, My Blankets and a Roof Over My Head

I wrote to living a simple life.  To me it’s meaningful.  To others it’s perceived as something other.  My faith has kept me going, and as the movie “Courageous” notes – without my belief in God I would have been spinning like a wheel… or something like that.  I know the movie is “man”, “father”, “husband” based, but it’s a beautiful story of letting your family down and how you come out of it.  I was asked to move back home to be closer to my children.  I suppose they didn’t understand that visiting their mother would not mean a big house, or lots of money.  But I am who I am who I am.  And Yahweh means just that “I am who I am who I am”.  And Yahweh means God.  I have a great earthly father who taught me acceptance, forgiveness, love and hope.  He still gets angry at me sometimes when he feels I’m not being my best, and I understand that.  But he loves me no matter what.  I would too my children.  He loves all four of his daughters no matter what.  I’m sure at times he wonders, but he doesn’t judge.  At least as little as he can.  Sometimes maybe feels like a failure with watching me, one of the University grads without a house I own, a job I would love to have, my children around me.  But he’s always there for me.  Always has been.  He doesn’t judge me like my mother does.  She grew up in a hard time, and tough upbringing, and I was blessed to have had a loving family, no matter what the errors they have made.  I remember now the good.  The good with my parents and sisters, the good with my children before then passed 13, (albeit don’t know much about their years thereafter), but out of all this I do know, less is more.  I can just go whenever I want, wherever I want, and I will always bring the love I have for my family and my children with me.  That will never leave my heart.

I fell off the “wagon” for the month of February every now and again, trying to adjust to yet another move.  But now back on track and I don’t even understand why I fell off in the first place?  Maybe it was the absence of my children or my fear of my mother seeing where I lived, or my sister seeing where I lived (second eldest who took me in when I had nothing), but somehow I realized, my independence, my time with me, was important.  And I found a place affordable to let me continue that part of my journey in life.  To me, I AM courageous.  I chose to test those who love me to accept me for who I am and what period of my life I am going through and to have patience.  Some do, some don’t.  That is their choice.  Mine is to make sure I can find myself, my mental health, my purpose in life.  My children are well provided for, my parents are well, and well provided for, my sisters are well and well provided for.  If I leave this place tomorrow because God wants to take me, I am at peace.  If I have to leave at the drop of the dime because our Saviour has returned, I have nothing to lose, but only everything to gain.

Material possessions are but possessions that you will never go with you when you die.  That men think, or some women, that “He who dies with the most toys wins”? I believe, he or she who dies with loving the littlest you can live on and still be happy lives.  Lives this life on earth well, and will be grateful for heaven when the time comes.

WOW… in the time I was writing this my son dropped by unexpectedly.  He told me he had to talk to me about my text message about how I was sorry how he was embarrassed about me.  He said he never said that.  That he simply held his arms out and said his parents were two extremes.  He said he loved me and would never say that.  I believed him.  Why?  Because it was incredibly unbelievable that my eldest son who always kept in touch with me would say anything like that about me.  But I was wrong.  I believed the rumours.  I failed him by believing he would betray me.  But then again once betrayed, twice and trice betrayed makes you think.  Can this be?  But he did right.  He came face to face to tell me he did NOT say anything like that.  But we found out the culprit who put all that in my mother’s head.  The other sister who betrays.  No wonder she couldn’t look at me in the eyes last time I saw her a couple of days ago.  Guilt holds the fear of looking someone in the eyes.  Or hugging like one should.  I know she’s not happy.  So I will forgive her for trying to put a separation between my loving eldest son and me.  The one who is probably the only of my children who truly understands me.  Let him be protected from her as she helps her son with his sport because my son is in it too and gets so excited about coaching it.  Let her not ever allow herself to put another possible wedge between us.  She failed this time.  I warned him.  Maybe God will have him listen to my words.  It’s in His hands now.  But I know my son will listen.  He knows I mean no harm, no anger, no revenge.  Just want peace.  And never want him to be hurt by the games my family plays on each other.

To my mother who said “you never spend enough time with us”… to her I say “now I know why.  You just like to try to break everything in my life that matters to me”.  But to her “I don’t know why you do it.  And tonight you were wrong.  My son proved it.  He proved YOU wrong.”

Thank you sweet son.  I do love you.  Always have, always will and you are extremely special.  Always knew it, always will.

Thank you friend – Here’s to Living in A Barn From the Homeless Guy With New Boots!!

There are few people in this life I truly trust and feel they are loyal friends, who are there with compassion, but also there to tell you just as it is, no matter how it may hurt, but usually right and makes you think.  A friendship that you know will last until the last breath you take.

I watched Courageous today and it speaks to forgiveness.  Something wonderful happened after that.  My “sister” came by unexpectedly.  The one that betrayed me.  But it wasn’t about any of the past,  it was about today and the future and I realized then and there I really have forgiven her.  It was an amazing feeling.  It was too when she walked into my little cubby hole and said it had character.  I think so, even if my parents are embarrassed, as too are my children, for living here.  I am personally grateful.  My ex is looking at a $2 million home.  I have no envy.  I wouldn’t want to live in that type of luxury.  I like my simple life.  I am and will be a redneck until I die.  I smile, I’m feeling happier than I have in years and adjusting to this lifestyle with embrace.  That my mother in particular may feel the horrors of one of her educated daughters living in a place so simple, that is their choice.  Mine is to like it here, with my animals, the solitude, quiet, and peace.

Your Children Are Treating You Like You Treated Us – Mother to Daughter

It’s always nice when you call you parents to ask them a question that was about good times and nostalgia and end up getting the “talk”.  My son went to see my parents today.  I haven’t seen him in a couple of months.  He told my mother that he hates that I live in a “dump” while his father is looking at a $2 million home.  Personally I don’t care and I don’t think my place is a dump.  Small?  Yes, but I remember the fun times I had in my little fort when I was a kid in the crawl space.  No one knew about it for quite some time and I enjoyed going there to sit and listen to music.  My little sister ended up being invited, but she also ratted me out, and when mom found out she asked if I was hiding boys down there.  LOL.  Ya right.  I was 13 years old and really how was I going to sneak them by the most intuitive person I have ever known in my life?

So this little cubby place I live in suits me fine.  It’s a roof over my head, affordable, pet friendly, keeps me busy, nice sunny kitchen, warm cuddly bed and silence.  Silence and away from the world I choose to be away from.  Judgement, hatred, crime, anger.  Here it’s fun, happiness, quiet and I bake, cook and clean for me.  I miss my children, but if they feel I’m an embarrassment to them, then so be it.  They need not come by to see me, visit me.  I’m just their mother.  I’m just the one that was there for their first 13 years trying to teach them the value of life, not money.  The sun is shining, I have a smile on my face and animals that love me no matter what.  I’m happy.  My mental state is getting better and this is what I need right now.  Yes.  I use I alot, and me alot, because for years it was always about them.  Husband, children, friends, family.  Always about them, not me.  So it’s me time now.  I have the right and the choice.  Mental health.  It’s what I need and what I am getting.  Here.  Alone, but not lonely.  Me, myself and I.  I have learned to love myself, not always defend myself, but I know that I am there for me until I die.  Just me.  No one else.  And so, to ME my best friend, I say, who cares what anyone else thinks.  If “we” are happy, that’s all that matters in life.

Maybe I’m living my character “Hampy”‘s life.  You can find the book on  It’s about me.  Look up Hampy.  He’s a cute distorted guy with a hump on his back.  But he left the world to hide away and it made him happy.  So hump and happy made for Hampy.  He’s so much of me.  And to this I end this blog.

Life As A Hermit Part Deux

Well, it comes to pass that my dear friend that didn’t want me to show my face to Mr. Sunshine came around and apologized.  He said he was sorry for his silliness and that he had no right to push me back into the cuby hole I live in.  He said he didn’t want to fight anymore, or be controlling.  I looked at him with wide eyes and my jaw dropped.  Could this be the same person I knew for all these years that refused to apologize?  I’ll take it.  Went for a drive, helped a poor man with a stuck vehicle and enjoyed the day.  I suppose sometimes not saying anything and just leaving things be is better than trying to fight a fight that would just end up wrong.  My silence was more telling than my words would have been.  I’m free.  I’m happy.  I’m me.