Profoundly Bothered

Spent months, hours getting ready to make this call to my webhosting service. Where oh where has my new secure certificate gone, and why hasn't it been installed to my site? Inquiring minds want to know. And how come nobody knows how to do it? And where is my refund for the past 4 months that it has been lost in space? The theoretical good news is: at least I'm not talking to India. The reality bad news: it's no 800-number to Arizona, where apparently they make extra points by taking extra long to solve your problem. Assuming they ever solve mine!

Obligatory "Easter post"

We were an island of focus on a day when all surrounding friends and neighbors did the family easter thing. There was lots of work to do, as the last weekend home for a few weeks, and when we did finally reclaim daughter and boyfriend, they had just returned from his family dinner and weren't very hungry for ours. Which was more like a Memorial Day cook-out anyway. But there were some good re-birth, resurrection themes happening behind the scenes. Including a good afternoon of errands with my daughter, where we reorganized about college, boyfriends, plans for next year.......... all from a good place of flow without the minefield of emotional charge. So, good family time, our tiny little family, on our terms. And on that note, on to the next few weeks of chaos. Company and class here this week, class in Michigan next week. See you in May!

The Real Crisis

The real crisis here is the conflict of plans for next year. Meaning: In The Fall. As in: I was already cruising out across the country at will, free to come and go for any length of time, under the assumption that my daughter would be safely esconced at college. In NYC or Philadelphia. Now, with this rude awakening that, gosh, maybe colleges actually have standards regarding your high school GPA, there is no NYC this fall. And the Phila option is similarly questionable. And where I once saw freedom, breathing room, clear space for me AND my husband........ now there is the threat of a whole year like last night - dark, harsh, poisonous moods replete with knee-jerk lying that's not even clever, just blatantly stupid. (ummm.... let's stop those midnight to 2am crank calls that she swears aren't happening by forwarding the house line into my cell phone and leaving the greeting at "Please Wait while your call is being transferred to.... the Police Dept" - YOU NEVER THINK you will be doing this when they're 18!!!!) It's time for US to move on and for HER to move on. What happens when she meets the world that makes bigger rules than I do, and she can't project her excuses on ME??? I long for the day when I can take that bulls-eye off.

ow ow ow

And for another round of a mother's deep unspeakable pain, here's this one: my daughter did not get into the college of her choice. And her second choice looks grim as well. Here we go on the "Plan b, or c" ride. Maybe this will actually give her a more realistic start, and set her more firmly on her path. What is also means is that I will not be set free in the same way come fall. She will most likely still be home. Is this why Bozeman is percolating so?

Invasion of the Trailer Trash

What happens when low-class renters somehow manage to move into an upper-middle-class, quiet, polite, "We do our wild partying behind CLOSED doors" neighborhood?

Well, it involves getting much friendlier to the police department than I ever imagined, as well as our Homeowners Association Board President.

So MAYBE there will be no more wild drinking, singing and swearing in the driveway (that closed door rule).

And MAYBE they will stop parking their hi-rise testosterone-charged pick-ups on the lawn (those other rules).

And MAYBE the scruffy kids will find somebody else's dirt to eat (you know it always tastes better from somebody else's lawn).

Where's the covenant enforcement nazis when you need them?

Makes the move to Montana tingle deliciously. Until I look up the real estate ads out there, and realize that all those property pictures look like every disaster-home-makeover show I've seen in the past 5 years. Is that what happens to your decorating taste when you move out there?

Quick, somebody find me a quiet place to hide.

Found It

I found our escape route, our far-away home just for the two of us, our creation space, our child-free haven. Someday we will move to Bozeman Montana. Just the two of us. Friends and work and mountains and SPACE are waiting for us. Imagine discovering the next place, while conscious and resonating to the vitality of it all. MH throbs with the idea; he considers it an erotic creation process. Since we won't have children of our own, we will have this consciously created life. I love it out there, and he loves it even more. And now I've named it out loud. Bring it on! Let's ride the big wave!