Indiscriminate Water Usage and the FeeBay Quandary

Woke up wondering how much water gets wasted every day/week/month/year by people hoping to mask tinkling sounds.

Speaking of that giant swirling, flushing sound ... am leaning towards ProStores and a solid domain name as my potential solution to the merchant store problem. I saw on Google where they will do a "Google Base Store Connector" for some enterprises; I believe eBay ProStores is in that elite bunch. If you can't get found in a search, you aren't gonna sell anything.

Spent some time snooping around at online choices. I love Network Solutions for basic sites, but they're pricey and limited when it comes to merchant enterprises. Yahoo stores are still way clunky. I want hundreds of templates, if possible.

I was also torn between a clever name and a logical name. The logical name will be much easier to find in search engines, so I'm going that route.

I may buy the clever one too, just because it is both excellent and available:-)

Who knows, I may need it down the line.

I put my book on sale (on my site only) to reflect my extreme discontent with eBay auctions and stores. This ProStores thing ... yeah, color me conflicted. http://www.sickmick.com/

Lyme Disease, BFs, FeeBay and Other Annoyances

The temp is 50 degrees right now - 7:13 a.m., Cape Coral, the BF's house. I am in tee, sweats, a fleece robe left behind by a past guest and our big thick chair blanket. I'm lookin sorta Navajo.

This cold makes my Lyme Disease act up. Yesterday I woke up and gave it up. Worked from home, then drove in around 2.

Stopped at a light behind a New Hampshire vehicle. Their "Live Free or Die" motto was altered by an errant plate bolt that made the message look like "Olive Free or Die", which seemed more appropriate to Sicily.

I find my humor where I can.

Got in to work, my pulse racing and feeling like crap. But I love that job and those people, started obsessing some projects and my symptoms finally went away.

Around 4 my high-functioning-alcholic-previously-ex-boyfriend texted me asking if I wanted any wings from the biker bar. Always alarming, a text from the Dek at 4. Shrugged it off, had stuff to do.

Got home at 8 ... he wasn't there. I text him "you're with (insert name of asshole.)" He says yeah, will be home soon. I text, stay as long as you want, it doesn't matter. He writes back, "back soon - it does matter."

In five weeks he's going to be gone for 7 months. It had better matter. I'm feeling good about him, but then he doesn't show up. We're talking big time deal with the drunk night. I knew he was with the guy across the street who totally cheeses me off ... treats his Russian girlfriend like Michael Vick treated his dogs. My thoughts in regard to him are not consistent with my faith in Buddhism. So sometimes I backslide. Given the opportunity, I may tear his black heart out and shove it in his face.

Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....

10 pm I fall asleep in the chair. Still not there. 11 pm I take my sorry butt to bed with the girls and turn on Sex and the City. It's the one where Carrie dates the jazz guy and whatsherface decides to be lesbian for a while. That's not one of my favorite episodes. I fall asleep.

The BF starts clanging around midnight or one a.m. Remember I'm not feeling well.

He comes to bed around 2, laughing, turning on lights, playing with the dogs. I tell him I need my sleep. My joints are screaming from the Lyme and I don't want to take anything for it.

He goes out and I hear him snoring in the chair in front of the TV. He comes back to bed around 3 and snores there. Then around 6 he's blowing bar breath in my face. I put my hand up against his face so he can get a whiff himself. Then I give up/get up.

Broken dishes in the kitchen. Well, it's his house and his ugly garage sale dishes so I could care less. There is a 4 lb. pork shoulder roast in the microwave. I don't know how long that's been there. The fancy thingamajig remote I'm not allowed to touch is above the kitchen sink, far from it's place of use. And the TV won't turn on ... he effed it up somehow. He will not be pleased when he finally rises. He will have no one else to blame.

So I start the day off fairly cranky. I will have to remember this behavior when he goes back to Michigan in April. It will be good to be back in my pretty condo in Fort Myers.

Someone's supposed to interview me by phone about eBay today, did I join the boycott, etc. No, I saw it wasn't working, gave it every chance in hell, worked harder, worked smarter and felt like I was working for them. Got pissed and pulled my store.

I've been looking for another online store because I do have a nice inventory of vintage costume jewelry. Found one I liked and it was part and parcel of the eBay cartel. ProStores I thought it was.

eBay feels like a hero that has fallen, a friend who took care of me while I was sick but stabbed me in the back a few years later. I spent a lot of time writing my book and I paid much tribute to eBay. (It's "Sick Mick's Guide to Selling Antiques & Collectibles" - available at Amazon or on my own cheesy book site, http://www.sickmick.com/. What I wrote about using online auctions should hold true for any solid merchant service.)

I've been thinking about what to say when I get interviewed. Mostly I don't think ANYONE realizes how much people who are chronically ill depended on eBay for funds in a country that doesn't take care of those who really need it.

So now they don't even have eBay. That upsets me greatly.

Dropped my book off at a local consignment shop I like a lot. The owner seemed delighted. We cut a deal where I'll take my share in trade. She has good stuff.

She's "More Taste than Money" in Fort Myers.

Dreams ... I do dreamwork. I have a recurring dream that I have fallen into a canal. The first time I was terrified, felt like I was dropped from a helicopter ... the water was clear and warm but I was scared to death. There was another, I can't remember. And there was the one this morning ... somehow I was in the canal swimming. There was green foliage at the surface, so I dove underwater where it was clear and beautiful! It was euphoric. I rose to get a breath of air and saw a woman terrified to bein the water. Her mouth was open in horror. And I kept telling her "it's ok, you're ok, dive - it's beautiful."

Not sure what it meant. I think it represented the difference between those who fear death and those who have strong faith in "the other side."

Or maybe it was a reminder from my guides not to take anything at face value.

Pretty Little Kojo and the eBay Boycott

Was watching Kojo on "E" last night, picking his best and worst dressed from the Oscars. Looks like he had some work done - skin looks great, hair is gorgeous.

He sort of looks like a fresh young Hillary Clinton.


Got an email about an eBay Boycott.

I am already long gone my friends. I used to sell vintage jewelry like this brooch ... I had a nice online store.

I am a member of their Voices committee. Until they see this, probably. I went to HQ, I drank the Kool-Aid . I totally believed in the selflessness of the organization. In person they seemed like especially GOOD people. They had heart.

I had been sick a long time and buying/selling antiques on eBay was the only "life" I had. When I was finally diagnosed with Lyme Disease and started on the right treatments, I started writing a book about my experiences - "Sick Mick's Guide to Selling Antiques & Collectibles" - available on Amazon, etc.

eBay has a starring role. They were my salvation during the worst of my illness, living life out of a LaZ-Boy and limping out to the mailbox to send/receive.While writing the book I remember thinking "they may change - at least this will be the fundamentals of any online auction."

I was not prepared for what happened in the past year. I finally lost my hope for continued success on eBay when I started making VERY little profit beyond their fees. I felt like I was working for THEM. I closed my online store last summer. I probably had hundreds of hours of work in it, from photos to listing descriptions.

I am tempted to yank the book as well. Except that I'm hoping some other online enterprise will rise to the task of being what eBay was and should have continued to be.

The principles of selling online will always be the same; the big change is in choosing an online organization that will protect it's members, go easy on the fees and fully deliver on promises.

Stinginess, the South Beach Diet and Aging in General

People who are cheap used to annoy the crap out of me.

If they were my folks age, I shrugged it off to "depression mentality". Now I have it.

Nothing like losing everything you owned to illness, job loss and a f'd up economy to set you on a different path. Yeah, RECESSION. To call it something else is like calling a full combover a receding hairline. Speaking of which...

I used to spend about $150 per month on hair and nails. We're talking trim, color and two manicures a month. Now I cut and color my own hair. A friend taught me the easy way to layer long hair recently - comb it, hold the ends out as far out as you can (over the forehead area) and cut in a straight vertical line. DAMN, wish I had known THAT years ago. If I screw up - well, that's why God made ponytails. It'll grow.

And nails? I haven't had a manicure in years. My nails are short, with no polish. They look like hard-working hands. Sturdy. Capable. I'm kinda proud of 'em.

My hair care is now scissors and $12/month - or whatever the going price of a L'Oreal frosting kit happens to be. Make that $6/month because I only use half.

Watched the awards last night, of course. I used to compare myself with some of those babes. I used to be a babe. I'm not now. More a decent-looking older broad. I'm OK with that.

I applaud Mirren and Julie Christie. This morning on the news the wardrobe nazis were taking shots at their long sleeves. "Women of a certain age" they called them. "Covering their upper arms" they said.

Bite me I thought. I have a wingspan too.

Meredith Viera (SP?) said something to the effect of "I could never dream of wearing what they wore so I'm keeping my mouth shut." (I love her, she's so refreshingly REAL.)

I'm proud of being older and wiser and wouldn't trade it for anything - including a smooth face and trim body.

I am worried about my weight - more for health reasons now than appearance. I've gone on the South Beach Diet. This is day 8 and the jeans are baggin' already. It's not an easy diet, and it's not cheap. But I consider the cost of good groceries the price of health.

I had more energy and more hours of energy between work and bedtime by day three. It was amazing. I was going to bed at 8:00 at night! Well, falling asleep in the chair and getting up around 10 just to go to bed. I was pathetic.

Last night I made it 'til 11.

Like my BFF Patte (a former RN married to an MD) said this weekend while I took her on a tour of my favorite places around Fort Myers Beach -

"Age isn't a state of mind; it's a state of health."

The Pursuit of Happiness

I remember a long time ago ... I was very unhappy with my second husband. (Don't judge me - I have been a serial marrier:-)

And I went to see a shrink and he asked me "what makes you happy?" I couldn't think of ANYTHING. Fortunately, I had some wisdom at that time. I didn't blame my lack of happiness (there is a difference, I think, between unhappiness and lack of it) on my now ex. But the situation did become unbearable over time.

Fast forward 16 years.

In Buddhism we seek inner peace, not happiness. Happiness is fleeting, it always has the seed of discontent.

Yesterday was a stellar example of the principle. It was an incredible day here in SW Florida. The BF wanted to take the boat out and try our hand at fishing. Joking that we wouldn't know what we caught if we caught it, I rushed out and bought a license. I hoped he would forsake the beer cooler since it wasn't even noon yet; but I was naive.

He barked at me that I had taken too long getting my license. I left him last winter because the emotional abuse was overwhelming ... but now, with my own condo, my own car and my own job - he is not the main course in this meal of life. He is only dessert when I choose to hang out.

I considered telling him to go alone but he caught himself. When you know what they're doing, when you learn about the abusive relationship, the awareness makes it all a little less painful. Knowledge is power. (Read "The Emotionally Abusive Relationship" if you're in a relationship like this. It talks about the dynamic that brings people like us together ... we are moths to a flame drawn to others with flawed childhoods.)

Back to the day. In our two most recent boating escapades he damaged the boat. One day we will not be so lucky. You would think with the time consuming and sometimes expensive repairs he has had to make in the past month or two, he would realize maybe the problem is more him than the boat.

So I am very careful about going out with him.

Yesterday was incredibly beautiful. He had an idea about where to go in the Caloosahatchee River (which feeds out into the Gulf of Mexico) and we anchored across from the Yacht Club in Cape Coral. The tide was coming in and boats were passing. The sun was warm and I put my feet out over the back where they would be splashed; and enjoyed myself.

We started catching Sea Trout. They were beautiful, I was not prepared for that - the colors, the eyes. The BF told me to feel one and it was like satin, you could feel no scales. He said they have natural "bling" and we laughed. We released them - I think there were 12 in all. There was something big down there - several of our lures were chopped right off. They're heavy duty plastic. He said "whatever that was, we wouldn't have wanted it in the boat anyway."

We listened to CCR, Hendrix and Queen. It was idyllic. The BF was going easy with the beers, drinking very slowly. And I remember thinking "I'm happy" ... but feeling anxious about it. And I remembered the Buddhist concept of happiness having the potential for discontent.

So I just tried to shove the discontent out of my mind. When the fish stopped biting, we trolled into the Bimini Basin and I caught one more trout.

It was fun. But I was getting overheated and sunburned - I wanted to go home. The BF trolled us back to the house. That's around the time I realized that even with a minimum of beer, he was drunk.

We got into the house and he started slamming things, repeating himself every two minutes and talking loudly over the movie I wanted to watch. He wanted me to go get burgers. I had been drinking beer too - I said no. I said I would get us pizza if he wanted.

Nothing I said was right, no suggestion to his liking. So I finally ordered from Sal's online. It cost $35 I really didn't want to spend. I am so careful with money these days.

He ate, sobering some, but taking great care to complain every five minutes. He looked across at me and accused me of not "reading" (he reads two books a week - fiction). I said I do read, only it's the real stuff - NONfiction.

In his brain I had somehow slipped off into the "inadequate" zone. Is there anything more exhilarating than slamming the person who puts up with you? I work 45 hours a week while he relaxes all winter.

Drunks should have some little "crown" that appears so the world can acknowledge their brilliance and absolute control. I asked him if he realized he was being a bitch and he glared. When he started snoring, I went to bed.

I dreamed I was in my Grandma's blue living room again. I keep having that dream since she passed. I think she's pulling me in there with her. She loved that house. I grew up there. Also yesterday one of the dogs' squeeze toys made a very subtle moan. I always like it when Gram visits. I guess she follows me, even at the BF's place.

When I awakened, I pulled Bodhi (the little black and white Shih Tzu in my photos) up on me before getting out of bed and gave her many scratches about the head and chin. Then I realized that the rare times when happiness DOES appear without the seed of discontent it is in the presence of animals. A dog on the lap, curled asleep ... a cat's gentle pur. They are the only source of unconditional love; and so deserving of it themselves.

Interactions with humans take so much work.

Anyway. The BF wants to go to Picnic Island today. I have no idea what mood he's going to be in when he gets up. Picnic has disaster written all over it. Other friends are going to Sanibel today by boat and the husband loves to drink with the BF. That's who he should go with.

I'd prefer to hang out with my dogs and get shit done. That's what will give me peace.

Have a taste of "hope" this Valentine's Day

When I saw this for the first time yesterday, I got choked up. I guess I forgot what "hope" for this country FELT like.

"Yes we can" - re Obama - by Will.i.am of the Black Eyed Peas

http://google.blognewschannel.com/archives/2008/02/04/youtube-hit-barack-obama-yes-we-can-music-video/

Please pass it on.

Ben Stein about Valentine's Day on "Sunday Morning"

We know him as the voice of reason.

This morning he talked about his wife carrying their old dalmatian downstairs so she could go outside and do her business. The dog was sick. He said the dog peed all over his wife mid-way, but she really didn't miss a beat. She took the dog outside. Came back in, carried the dog back upstairs, changed into clean clothes and laid down by the ailing dog.

The dalmatian died the next day.

He said they have something like six cats and three dogs. His wife has no sense of smell ... he figures it has something to do with her trusting nature. He said he loves her.

"We're not young any more." He said one Valentine's Day one of them will be alone. He can't imagine the pain of it. He talked about how his father suffered after the death of his mother ... photos of his dad were in the background. The loss was palpable.

He asks us to remember people who have lost their partners this Valentine's Day.

It brought me to tears. It has been a long time since I saw anything on TV that was so open and honest.

The Boozer and the Buddhist

Cape Coral, 9 a.m. It's a little cool ... pulled some shorts under my t-shirt and had a glass of fresh orange juice out by the canal. Princess my Lhasa/? joined me. The water is clear today, out to about 8 feet. No big fishies, only a few minnows.

It's overcast. Very peaceful, only the sound of distant Harleys.

The BF is up, in his robe, attempting to be as charming as is humanly possible with a raging hangover. He even made the coffee.

I texted him from work yesterday at 4. He was at the bar with the neighbor already ... he has been trying to drink far less since we got back together. Operative word being "was". Friday night is my big night after a tough week. Most weekdays I'm asleep by 8 or 9. He's only in town til spring. We only have so much time.

He called at 8 from the Monkey Bar saying I should come out and meet up with the others. He was already slurring. Let them babysit, I stayed home and watched the rest of Season 1 of the Tudors on demand. I was tempted to go back to my place in Fort Myers, back where it's peaceful and I know what to expect.

But he has all the channels.

He came in about 11:30 so hammered he could hardly walk. He said they "abandoned" him in the middle of Cape Coral. His back is bad, he was truly having trouble walking. He was also having trouble talking, repeating himself every two minutes. I have to stay up when he's like that or I'm afraid he'll sit on one of the dogs. Sounds funny. It's so NOT. He gets scary drunk. At one point I couldn't find him in the house and he was standing outside in the darkness, looking dangerous, like he was plotting something. His temper shifts on a dime when he's like that.

He came in and said "they" (the neighbors ... the emotionally abusive alcoholic guy with the beautiful submissive Russian girlfriend) want to go out on the water so she can use her new kayak. He said "they'll take their boat and we'll take ours and we'll take the kayaks to Picnic Island."

We've gone out on the boat exactly twice since we got back together around Christmas. The first time we went to Pincher's on the river in North Fort Myers - actually had a ball, one of those rare instances where I let loose with the margaritas. We left after sunset, were headed out on the river and hit a channel mark post HARD. Enough to do pretty significant damage to the boat.

Of course he didn't see how bad it was until morning.

The next time we went to Fort Myers Beach by boat to meet up with above-referenced Emotionally Abusive Alcoholic and Submissive Russian who is living in hell. When you're not a boozer, events like that are as boring as reading a phone book. The sun was starting to set. It takes 45 minutes to get home from that part of Estero to Cape Coral and it was getting cold. The BF was drunk. I said "we need to leave." I said it three times before I grabbed my stuff, held it over my head and waded out. He finally came.

Waves started to increase in size a bit. He was hammered. His biker buddy Dennis was with us. I like Dennis. He tells stuff like it is. Dennis was drunk too. It's an awful feeling to be at the mercy of drunks. We were in the wake of a big boat and a large wave rolled in at us - we hit it hard, knocking me AND my seat towards the BF as he drove. The force of the impact ripped the bolted seat right off the floor. Dennis caught me and the chair before we could injure the BF.

The BF said "wo - where'd THAT come from?" Well if you weren't so drunk you would have SEEN it.

Then it got dark and he couldn't find our canal. We were dragging bottom. There are rocks there and I always worry about what PREDATORS are in there. Christmas lights had already been taken down and a lot of houses were dark. We find our canal based on the features of the various houses. The spirits (some people call them angels ... I call loved ones who have passed spirits) must have been with me in the darkness.

He was drunk, confused and a little afraid of ruining the boat. For once he listened to me and I (we) got us back.

I expected a giant bruise and hip pain the next day ... but it wasn't bad.

When the BF inspected the damage ... which is becoming a morning-after tradition ... he said "Dennis broke the seat." So I straightened him out on that and he didn't appreciate it. (I thought "Just because you have a blackout doesn't mean life didn't go on with your worst persona behind the wheel.")

I say it like it is now, then I walk away and let him stew on it. I don't waste my breath while he's drunk. I've learned that much.

So we are two for two in having trouble with the boating. I told him before I broke up last time I was never going out on the boat with him again, he turns into ... God, I can't even describe the transformation. It's dangerous. Not him so much as the way he drives the boat. He used to be a master, now he can't be trusted. I told a friend "if I die in an accident, it will be on the water."

So this morning I woke up with two dreams.

In one were were at some party town on the water. And the next thing I know, people are swimming IN the water, playing games as darkness sets. And I am (it's a dream, remember) in bed 30 ' below and I see a 20' shark swimming at them. And I'm wondering why I'm not floating upwards and thinking I should probably try to get UNDER the bed before the shark sees me.

I'd say based on that dream it's not a good idea to go out with them to Picnic Island today. I have insisted I will not go if the beer goes, but the beer is always first when it comes to boating.

My other dream was cool. I was reading John Edwards book on communing with the dead yesterday and he talked about his aunt sending him signs as she was dying ... first she's at the airport, then she's boarding the plane, then ...

I dreamed I was on a plane with the BF and a woman who looked just like my Gram walked down the aisle. I poked him and said "LOOK!" He said "what?" I said "that woman looks just like my Gram!!" The woman was very calm. She looked at me and smiled. (My Gram died of dementia, she was anything but calm. Other dreams since her death have explained much ... we can finally communicate again.)

If I had known it was a dream, I would have known it was her hanging out, saying hi. That's always such a comfort. She doesn't move pictures or shake the bed at the BF's house:-)

I want to make a comment about alcoholism. I've been to Alanon meetings, I dislike that they assess blame to the partner. I have nothing to do with the BF's alcoholism. I don't need to feel emotionally abused, seek refuge in Alanon and have them pack the bags for a guilt trip based on my "enabling." Bite me - I do not enable. I endure the situation until I can't endure no more.

Alanon is a good wake up call. Go to see how people live when they love alcoholics. At one such meeting an alcoholic who had been told to attend a meeting put her hand on my shoulder and said "Know that Alcholics are usually attracted people who are kind and caring."

If you go, please remember that the concept of "codependence" has been considered dangerous and destructive by some therapists. (See "The Emotionally Abusive Relationship" ... can't remember the author's name.)

Overall I prefer the Buddhist approach of seeing the situation clearly for what it is and having arranged my life so that I can leave when his problem gets unbearable. One day I may never come back. Maybe one of us will die or meet someone else.

It would be so much better to be in a relationship where I didn't need an escape route, but this is the hand life has dealt me. As long as the companionship and laughs exceed the stress and tears, I'll hang around.

Boomers and Bankruptcy

Yesterday it occurred to me that my generation has seen it all. Sure, there are some who have managed to live in a vacuum, but most of us have been there, done - or watched that.

There was a radio commercial on the other morning. I write radio commercials now, so I pay extra close attention. It was for a jewelry shop. And they said "If you give her a pearl necklace, maybe she'll give you one."

I was absolutely HORKED that a jewelry store would sink THAT low to get attention. I wonder if the twenty somethings find it shocking or even interesting; to me, it was cheap and ... wow, yeah, maybe a little offensive. I'm a Grandma - but I'm not the traditional Gram. I've dated everything from wise guys to Greek Orthodox priests. I hang out in biker bars because I can't handle pretense or BULLSHI*.

My mind is so open it's nearly impossible to offend or shock me.

But this commercial did. I guess if it were for an adult toy store, it wouldn't bug me; but I expect better of the folks who sell gold and diamonds.

I guess that's what led me to thinking that our generation is the only one that has seen it all. (Our parents' generation had more grace, integrity and class.)

Good luck trying to shock us. Like the interview Diane Sawyer conducted with Grace Slick some years back. Grace said being who she is made it nearly impossible for her daughter to shock her. But she did - by being mega-straight and buttoned up:-)

It was a hilalrious interview. Diane Sawyer asked "what's the strangest thing about being 60" and Grace said "nobody wants to *uck me any more." I was about on the floor.

Which brings me to age and appearances.

I'm organizer of a few meetup groups and I'll call this one member Karen. We did not hit it off. We sort of gave each other a once over and could sense some tension. Two strong, opinionated females.

She's a beautiful blonde - tall, mid-30s, smart, married - an attorney. I was impressed. She was everything I wasn't. At that time I had just landed here after losing everything to my long battle with Lyme Disease. I was alone, older, unemployed and afraid - living on Bran Chex and apples - selling websites to survive.

I think my bankruptcy was finalized around the time we met. I was ashamed, embarrassed ... but yeah, relieved.

This was a writers meetup and our personal lives come out in the writings. A new member came in and made a comment about "people who file for bankruptcy are losers who bring it on themselves" - and Karen went nuclear. Not immediately, but in our next meeting. She wrote a piece that tore the woman apart limb by limb.

Turns out Karen had just set off in the bankruptcy boat. Her causes were optimism and business deals ... and it was much worse than I thought. We compared notes on selling our jewelry. I told her about taking my prize diamond and putting it on my little granddaughters finger (thinking "too bad about your luck") before shipping it off to an ecstatic eBay buyer.

But I have come out the other side. I am finally at the point where I can take advantage of the lease option offered by my landlord and lock in a land contract. I asked Karen if she would be my attorney, maybe we could trade. I'd do a website for her. And I apologized for being that broke. And she understood because she is just as broke.

She said I give her hope that she can come out the other side.

I told her we're the leading edge of the people who have fallen. As we get back on our feet, there are opportunities to take the burdens off others. This condo is a financial dead weight on my landlord and he made me a deal I would be nuts to refuse. We both believe God brought us together - I was desperate for a place to live and he was desperate for a tenant who would actually pay as promised.

Sure, the condo may blow away in the next hurricane; but the whole thing is little more than I'd be paying for rent. And I love it. It has a wonderful vibe.

Having been one of the first to "go down" in this economy, all I can say is that others are falling like dominoes and opportunities to land on your feet - or even better off than you were in the first place DO exist.

My condo is not my beautiful riverfront Victorian in Michigan; but it costs far less and is smack dab in the middle of a tropical paradise. It's within 5 miles of two of the best beaches in Florida.

My new job pays less than half of what I made at the time my illness struck, but I am now basically without debt. Math-wise, I'm better off where I am today.

I love the people I work with and never dreamed I would have such an exciting job ... at this age. At any age. This week I got an office - walls, a door and everything. I haven't had better than a cubicle in 15 years.

I asked what color I could paint it and the boss said "anything you want." (It will look like an opium den by the time I'd done:-)

I am truly blessed. I appreciate everything and everyone in my life.

Some mornings I get down on hands and knees with my forehead on the floor and thank God.

I'm sure Karen's experience will be very much the same.

I receive my first guests!!

My son Shawn, DIL and granddaughters came down for the first time last weekend. I hadn't seen them since that traumatic day in May '07 when I pulled away alone in a 17' Uhaul. They thought I was going to my new job. They didn't realize I'd just received a call from my prospective employer that the job opportunity had dissolved. I will not name the company as they continue to struggle to survive - while I have managed to land the job of my dreams.

Another case of thanking God for prayers unanswered. There were months of incredible struggle, but in hindsight, it was worth it.

Anyway, I was back with family under HAPPY circumstances!!!

When they landed I took them to the condo to unload (and get familiar with the environs) - then to Parrot Key to hear the Yard Dogs play Florida swamp music:-) - the girls were mesmerized and dinner was excellent.

The next morning we hit Sanibel and Captiva. Shawn has always spoiled the girls, thinking they need Disneyworld or some big theme park to be happy. All that changed when 2 year old Ella sat in the sand with her bucket and pail - JOYOUSLY playing as children have for centuries. It's an image that will live forever in our memories.

We drove along Fort Myers Beach the second day and had dinner at the Holiday Inn with the Pinchers Restaurant in Estero. I told Shawn I moved here for Pinchers' buffalo shrimp. It is HEAVEN. That might have been our best time. It's a long way from the tiki bar to the water and the sand is soft as baby powder. Emma raced; Ella took our pinkies and giggled as we swung her with every third step.

Shawn and I drank on my lanai after everyone else was tucked in bed upstairs. It was pretty cool outside. I wrapped up like a Navajo and we caught up by the light of many candles.

Monday we fished off the BF's dock in Cape Coral and spent time at the beach & pier at the Yacht Club. I dropped them off at the airport around 7 and I think they were far less tired than they would have been under other circumstances.

The next time they come, they will know what their (my) Florida home looks and feels like; they will have favorite places in mind and things will be more relaxed. They're already looking at flights so they can come back.

He's calling more now that he's been down for a visit. ?? I have always encouraged him to take his family north (Michigan's UP) to see my folks cuz Grandpa is getting up in years. That was especially part of the plan those three years when I was so sick. I wasn't much to visit - just depressing to be around.

Over the past five years I think I accidentally put myself at the bottom of his list.

I'm exhausted from the visit - the preparation and the tour guiding. I bought a king-sized bed for the master bedroom, which meant transforming my giant closet with unpacked boxes into an inviting place to sleep. I also have an antique bed in there - smaller than a twin - but the girls didn't sleep on it; the suitcases did.

This weekend I'm back to resting and healing from the workweek. The Lyme Disease still kicks in when temps dip, but up north I would be nearly crippled from it.

I'm getting my fishing license today and the BF is taking me out on the boat. We swear we will catch something eventually.

Of course, we will have no clue what it is.

And tonight we're going to bike night. His house is in Cape Coral, so we'll walk. I want to charge the batteries for my camera. Last time he said he saw a woman in a thong and leather chaps.

She was in her 70s.