Month: April 2011

I’ve never had much respect for men who are sexually attracted to small, dark women.

My daughter-in-law is of average size and she’s a pretty girl. I’m glad that my son was secure enough to marry her instead of some petite bimbo-ette.

When I was in high school, a male friend, reading a blurb about “Madama Butterfly”, stated how disgusted he was with a reference to “the submissive women of the East.” I’ve always admired that young man, whose insight into that twisted sexual dynamic was spot-on.

There is something unmanly and even sinister about seeing an average-sized or tall man with a tiny woman, especially a tiny dark woman. It’s like being forced to watch pederasty, incest, Third World child sex slavery, pornographic films of adults raping little screaming children.

Getting your rocks off because it’s fun to be able to lift a grown woman into the air makes me sick to my stomach.

Same reaction I have to men fornicating with animals.

I understand that men of small stature want women of similar size, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

For everyone else, though, being sexually attracted to tiny women is a major red flag. It tells me that man has something very seriously wrong with his head, that he’s struggling with his sexual identity.

Although it’s not up to me to make the call, I don’t think I’d feel comfortable leaving such a man alone with my grandkids.

It’s been foggy and windy all day. I did some more cleaning out of the front bushes, but the main yard work was to get rid of the truckload of forsythia clippings from yesterday.

Had a PT session with Andy, then dropped off some Senior Center rolls to the Cohens. Peter had two extractions today. Glad that’s over with, he was in a lot of pain.

Fluffles escaped this morning. While I was washing dishes, I saw a large, fluffy, pretty gray cat in the back yard. He came in right away, good cat. Have you ever seen a more innocent face?

Finally made bread pudding this afternoon from the leftovers in the frig. Used wheat bread, and it turned out pretty well, nice and mushy. Brought some over to John, who loves it. I hope it meets expectations!

Three falls this past winter, two on ice and one inside, but miraculously, I didn’t break anything.

It has left my right hip very sore, but thanks be to heaven, it isn’t fractured or dislocated.

Rather, per my PT, there’s inflammation, as in bursitis or tendonitis.

He’s set me up for 3 sessions a week to see if we can get the muscles in shape for the end of the month.

I like Ron very much, and I respect him for wanting to “do the right thing” by me and Peter.

We don’t have the spark, though, that he had with his most important priors.

It may be just too late for us: too many hurts and disappointments, but bottom line, it’s finally come out that Ron doesn’t find me attractive.

After explaining that his marriage to a blond-haired woman was just pay-back and his long-term affair with the overweight she-who-will-not-be-named was about money, we find that his real interest is in pretty, feminine, little-black-dress women.

He thinks that’s not my deal, and up to now, I’d say he was right. Maybe I haven’t had the courage to be that kind of person for fear of ridicule.

Ron’s blather about Jeanne, Melody and Susan, the three dark-haired petite women in his past, has thrown me for a loop up to now.

But I’m starting to develop a thicker skin. I realize that my head has been entirely in the wrong place about this.

Rather than thinking of my body as a faithful companion, I have ended up hating it. It’s not a correct or just way to think.

Ron’s regrettable superficiality is the problem, not my body.

Yesterday, my body endured a grueling session at Edgewater. The cuts in my hands were so numerous that I started bleeding last night when Ron and I were on the phone, and my back and legs were as stiff as a board.

This morning, though, my body has healed enough that I feel pretty good. I’m proud of my level of fitness.

Ron, though, focuses on the negatives. Even after months of conversations, he still doesn’t get it. His dodging of legitimate questions about what he finds attractive and feminine is irritating and insulting.

He said last night that he doesn’t want me to be a little black dress piece of eye candy that he can parade into the country club because that’s not him.

Thus, it appears that’s exactly what he does want, but until he gets back in shape himself, he’s chosen me because he thinks there won’t be competition for my attention. As evidently there was with Jeanne, Melody and Susan.

I’m just glad that this house has a second bedroom. The last thing in the world I want is to sleep with someone who prefers an Audrey Hepburn fantasy to a strong, brave, flesh and blood woman.

Did about 3 hours of work at Edgewater today.

Did a LOT of cleanup of the forsythia. You can now clearly see two rows of bushes. The deadwood and errant branches completely filled the truck. Can’t wait to see how it looks when it blooms.

Cleaned up the stump sawdust and put the clean portion under the swing set. Raked out as many pebbles as I could from the back lawn.

Put fertilizer on both the front and back lawns.

This morning, I pruned the 6 little hydrangeas in the back at Dixon and the big daisies from Mark’s old house.

As part of cleaning out his storage units in preparation for the move, Ron has tossed what sounds like hundreds of cassette tapes that he made from LPs.

I can’t imagine the hours that he spent on this through the years.

That got me to thinking how I’ve spent my time.

I’ve been in the mode of considering time a commodity for quite a while. As such, I’ve tried not to waste it.

Like everyone else, I have spent lot of time on survival-related things, like work, commuting, studying to get my degree and to keep up my skills, cooking, washing clothes, housecleaning, sleeping.

Some time had to do directly with Peter: driving him to activities, school functions and meetings, doctor visits, clothes shopping.

Some of it was fun, like going to movies and concerts, vacations, sight-seeing, visiting friends.

More recently, a solid chunk of my time has gone to maintaining the properties on Dixon and Edgewater: painting, minor carpentry but most particularly, yardwork and putting in and tending to lawns and gardens.

I give Peter full credit for becoming the person he is. We raise ourselves as much as if not more than our parents did and my assistance in that area has been average.

I made sure that he had opportunities, like attending Manter Hall and owning a computer, but his successes are entirely his own.

Even excluding the important business of helping another human being reach self-sufficiency and except for the fact that Ron is more traveled, I still feel that my time was better spent.

For one thing, except for work, where it’s inevitable, I didn’t waste long periods of time with self-centered assholes, into which category fall just about all of his priors.

I bought and sold property. I haven’t done as well as many, but at least I have an asset in the house on Edgewater, and it’s not financially underwater.

I’ve spent time taking care of pets.

I have a few friends. Not many, but they are the kind of people with whom one can be no-holds-barred honest, and that’s worth a great deal to me. It makes me happy to do things for and with them.

I’ve had a handful of peak experiences: the Newport Jazz Festival, vacationing on Vancouver Island and at a ski resort in Durango, Colorado, and living in Seal Beach and Laguna Beach, California.

I’ve spent a fair amount of time with the grands, for which I’m very grateful. I’ve had a chance to talk with them, play with them and watch them as they grow and change.

Mostly, though, my time has been best spent on the gardens. That’s something I can definitely point to over the last 10 years that has made a difference, not only to me but to the people around the properties.

Jen’s babies were born early this morning, Mac Stewart and Devyn Skye.

I pruned the three hydrangeas in the front. It struck me as pretty stupid that I cleaned up someone else’s yesterday but hadn’t done ours.

It was a nasty job because I’ve not done a real clean-up in a while, if ever. There was a bushel or more of dead wood and leaves. I also pruned any winter-kill on the ends of the branches and horizontal strays.

It was a great day to be outside – shirtsleeves weather. Good workout, too.

My friends Candy and John will be moving in less than two weeks. I don’t think anyone is real happy about it.

Besides missing them terribly, it dawned on me that I’ll also miss her family, to whom I’ve become very friendly: her two sisters, her brother-in-law, her children and grandchildren. I used to enjoy seeing them relaxing on her deck, and I’d come over to say hello, hospitality always being extended.

Candy’s been distributing gifts throughout the neighborhood, things she doesn’t want to move or store: semi-full bottles of liquor, a case of beer, and for Ron and me because we’re not drinkers, two lamps, lobster pot buoys, a bureau and a couple of swivel chairs.

She said last night that it’s rare to find a neighborhood where you could drop in to someone’s house in your pajamas, day or night. I think it’s just hitting her what she’ll miss when she’s no longer here, but we’re going to miss her even more. She’s been the ‘glue’ that’s held a lot of us together, if only for the once-a-year St. Patrick’s Day parties.

I’m just really sorry that she felt it necessary to leave.

Pace is stepping up a little now.

Spent most of the morning working with Jim Robertson at Highfield. Pruned 6 hydrangeas which had been planted 3 years ago but haven’t been touched since. Jim did 6 as well and edged along the beds. He’s a terrific work mate.

Wandered inside to see the quilt exhibit: magnificent. Ron would like to make a quilt with some of his tee shirts.

At the transfer station, picked up a nice discarded tub with handles, perfect for the potato garden. Disinfected it and planted six potato pieces, which have been hardening for a day in the kitchen window sill.

It appears that the transfer station is on the migratory path for some very friendly flamingos!

Also planted the tomato and petunia seeds in the cold frame.

On the way back from Highfield, I “discovered” Service Road in Falmouth, which has some beautiful properties.

Had a good PT session with Andy Enea. He’s set me up for 3 sessions a week between now and the trip, to try to get my legs conditioned.

Fluffles got his first application of Advantage for the year.