Let’s see – Judge ordered (and we agreed so as not to yell and scream for 45 minutes) that Jeff and Nate will see the same counselor, separately, and that she will determine when they should have counseling together, and then advise the Court regarding overnight visits.
Nate is unhappy about having another counselor as he likes going to the Domestic Violence center. He’s still going to go to the Center, but just deal with different issues. We’ll know more after his first appointment with his new counselor.
When Nate and I came home last night with one of Nate’s buddies, I saw a man walking down the street toward my house. He moved over behind my neighbor’s van as though to get out of our way, but when I pulled in at my house, he turned around and started walking in the direction that he had just came from. And it was raining.
I wonder if he really thinks I’m that stupid that I don’t know its him. Moron. I guess he figured I had caught him driving around the neighborhood and now he would try a different approach.
Anyway, Nate is doing well so far with school. He’s putting a lot of effort into it, doing his homework, and he and I have the agreement that I won’t question every tiny paper in his backpack as long as his grades are good and he’s turning his work in. He’s still irritating me with getting to school on time… he likes walking in when the bell rings, which annoys me. However, he knows if he causes himself to be tardy then he loses his electronic privileges for the evening.
He seems so relaxed, happy, and so much more mature. He still has a lot of anger and hurt over his father, but I’m hopeful that counseling will continue to whittle that away and give him the tools he needs to deal with it appropriately.
We are fostering Nate’s sister’s cat, Moose. She and her mother are getting ready to move out of their current living arrangement into a place of their own. Her Mom’s boyfriend (soon to be ex), has nixed the cat living there until they can leave. So, Moose lives with me for now. He and Chico are about the same size and they play like demons. Its hilarious.
I told my mom about Moose and she said, “Well, if she doesn’t come back and get him then I’m coming down there and personally taking him to the animal shelter! You have too many pets as it is now!”
Ya’ll, my mother has serious issues. It may have gone unnoticed to her, but it isn’t lost on me that I’ll be 39 years old this year, I pay my own mortgage, and my own utilities, I pay for everything! I’ve lived on my own for 14 years and wow, I’m raising a child too. Amazing that I’ve made it this far without her controlling my every move. She’s messed up in the head.
Wilbur is a big ball of fuzz and he’s not going anywhere either. No, my mother doesn’t know about him. I’m afraid she’ll attempt a catnapping. Bizarre.
I saw AZ the other day. It was … okay. I saw him while Nate and I were out to eat. His wife, mother, and another mutual friend were with him. I’m still hurt but its fading. Seriously… I really know why he married her. She has no confidence whatsoever, and Clint and Stacy would have had a field day with her whole look that day. And he’s so self-absorbed and insecure… her letting him have the continous spotlight is perfect.
He made the comment that Nate’s hair was long… and he was so tall. Yep, that happens when they grow up. He stood there for a while until I remembered to stand up and give him a oh-yeah-guess-I should-hug-you hug. Used to be I would have jumped up and given him a real hug, but… just didn’t really feel the need. It was painful just exchanging pleasantries with him. Painful in that I didn’t really want to. I was being polite.
I described her to my counselor as a mouse, with sound effects and visuals. I cracked her up so bad she didn’t even have a chance to tell me, “No, no, not nice, examine your feelings, Grasshopper.” I said, “Well, being married to him hasn’t done her any favors.” And while I know that he and I were totally incompatible in so many ways, it still hurts, and I’m angry, and she makes me roll my eyes.
And, it pisses me off that he acts like things haven’t changed since he got married. And, naturally, he buries his head in the sand instead of addressing it. That’s his way of not dealing with it. I’m going to deal with it. He doesn’t have to participate in it, he doesn’t have to make any peace with me or it, but I do, and I will.
Ugh, that whole situation just irritates me. And, my mother irritates me. Really.
I have lost about three pounds and two inches from my waist since starting my new diet and exercise regime. I’m three inches from goal and I don’t really have a weight goal, just an inches goal for my waist and just to be healthier.
That’s about it. Have a great day.
Many of you have wondered about the adorable Wilbur. Does he really have horse teeth? Does he really resemble a pink pig with an arachnid girlfriend? Actually, he looks more like a baby Ewok.
Stunning, isn’t it?
I named him Wilbur because its just a ridiculous name and… well… he’s fat as a pig. Here he is with Chico.
It would appear that Wilbur is half Chico’s body size and you would be right. Something is just wrong with the fact that my 2 1/2 week old kitten is half the size of my 5 1/2 month old dog.
Wilbur is still smaller than me.
Went to see a local production of “Rent” this afternoon. Rosie has one of the lead roles (he’s Mark) and we’re all ganging up and going to see him in spurts. It was excellent. With the talent we have around here, you don’t need to go to New York, plus you get to go backstage and hang with the actors and their families.
That’s Rosie’s sister with us. She rocks.
Oh yes, and there’s my new bling-bling.
This is the new necklace I made. I bought a book by Laura McCabe and took some projects she had and used it to make myself something. The stone is a vintage copper Swarovski triangle. I did have it in a ring, but it was crude so I popped it out and decided to make something to match the outfit I had on today.
I’m supposed to write AZ a letter and let him know how I feel. Funny, after all of those years of writing to him, I can’t find a thing to say other than, “YOU’RE A MORON!” I think my counselor wants something a bit more than just, “You’re a moron!”
Listening to “Rent” really helped give me a better perspective on things and I really just need to get a better attitude and look at the bright side, while dealing with the dark side. And give AZ a piece of my mind.
Can’t really say there’s nothing new going on. Just nothing earth-shattering which is good.
The second of Luna’s babies died, so that leaves The One. She and Nate are locked in battle as to where The One Baby is going to reside. Nate has set up what he calls, “The Lunar Pod,” which is an old round litter box that I bought after the fire. He lined it with old towels and puts the The One Baby in there. Luna will come in, nurse the baby, then leave.
Then, around midnight every night, Luna decides the Lunar Pod is not the place for them and attempts to move The One Baby back inside the couch. Normally, this ends with The One Baby being dumped beside of the couch, crying, then being rescued by either myself or Nate. Never a dull moment.
Lex came over last night. I’m happy to report, he reminded me how good sex can be. Nate, in all of his gigglyness, asked what Lex and I were going to “talk” about. Yes, he used quotation marks. Although, at the time, he didn’t know it was Lex that was coming over.
And then, this morning, Nate reported “wet spots” in his underwear that had nothing to do with nocturnal wetness but may have something more to do with noctural emissions. Given the fact I’m fairly certain he had every indication that I was going to get laid last night, right down to clean sheets and an earlier bedtime, perhaps his mind, whether conscious or subconsciously, was thinking about sex, and well, holy shit.
I mean, COME ON! Oh, that was just a bad choice of words.
Shit! Talk about uncharted waters. And that blasted ankle biter of mine, although sequestered under Nate’s blankets, heard unfamiliar footsteps in my house and started barking, which woke Nate up, but I’m fairly certain he was sound asleep again within a few minutes because he didn’t use quotation marks this morning and didn’t make any ribald comments.
Okay, he did use quotation marks, once to describe “friend” and once when he asked if we had a good “talk.” Had my son been 18 instead of 13 I would have embarrassed him by answering, “Why yes, son, we did have a wonderful talk and had you been awake I’m sure you would have known exactly how wonderful that talk was, since I was fairly certain that I was going to wake you, our yappy ankle biter, and the neighbors when one of the most powerful and fulfilling orgasms of my life ripped through my body like a bolt of lightning. It is very difficult to keep that quiet.”
My life is so normal. We’re facing the normal facets of growing up, yet, I feel like its so abnormal. Abnormal for us. Normal in the course of life, normal in the course of growing up, but uncharted waters. I’m not drowing yet but I’m definitely sinking.
I just downloaded 32 songs by Foreigner.
Nothing new to see here.
The announcement was made yesterday that an unnamed individual had been discharged from employment at the restaurant due to sexual harassment. No one seemed surprised and no one asked who it was because… we all knew who it was because you can’t keep anything quiet in food service.
Obviously this was going on even while he and I were dating. Dipwad.
I was talking to one our teengaged hostesses yesterday about movies and such. It was painfully slow at the restaurant last night so we were making small talk and I told her that I had taken a Facebook quiz about which crazy writer I was. The writer was Cormack McCarthy. I had no clue who the man is. But, I now know all things about Cormack McCarthy. He wrote “No Country for Old Men.” One of his other books, “The Road” has been made into a movie and is being released later this year.
Originally I thought “The Road” was one of his older books but it was published in 2006. McCarthy said he wrote it for his youngest son, who is currently 8 years old. Viggo Mortensen plays the lead role in the upcoming film, which drew a blank stare from my hostess.
I asked if she had seen Lord of the Rings. No. A History of Violence? No. Eastern Promises? No. Shocking, just shocking. She’s only seen two of the six Star Wars movies. Sheltered. Harry Potter? Nope. Jeeeez. At least she knows what “Twilight” is.
The Chico Mocoso –
He’s laying in the stuffing of my c0ouch cushions while I was washing the covers.
Oh, that reminds me, I need to make something for family meal this evening. Gah. I guess I’ll make squash casserole.
Didn’t hear from my brother for Nate’s birthday. Not even a phone call. That makes me a little pissy. Actually, it makes me a lot pissy. If I don’t get a card in the mail, or visit, or send something via my mother, I at least call my nephews and niece on their birthday and give them a little something when I see them. I’m boycotting my brother and his wife. I’m not asking for money or even a card, but a little recognition would be nice. Assholes.
My dad and I were discussing Federal Firefighters while I was there over the weekend. They work for the Forest Service and I guess are often moved around from post to post, or where they are needed to fight fires. Makes sense. My dad said, “That must be some good money.” My mom said, “Oh I bet you would have liked that, being away from your family all of the time and not having to deal with any of us.” Issues, mother?
I said, “Well, take your family with you.” My mom said, “What? And move around all the time?” I said, “Military families do it, all the time. Your sister did it for years.” Then she said that it was only every five years that they moved etc. etc.
I had happened across a $2 bill while at King’s Island and talked a lady out of it. My dad collects them. I also happened across one of the new Lincoln pennies so I took those for his Father’s Day gift. He said, “Oh, I have a ton of these, you know I collect them.” Why yes, Father, that must be why I thought of you when I saw it. He then told me a lady in the area had taken $158 worth of $2 bills to the bank and the ladies at the bank called him to come and get them.
Hmmmm… I only brought you one but I thought of you.
I finally went and took a nap. Avoidant behavior? Why yes, thanks for noticing.
Is it September yet?
I really didn’t have a better title, so that’s it.
I got some meds yesterday. My beloved Wellbutrin, how I have missed thee. Since its very difficult for me to talk about certain things these days without bawling, I was happy that my counselors could get me into see a doctor. She was a bit odd and at times I felt like I was a science experiment gone horribly wrong, but otherwise, it was okay.
The meds are expensive, so I may switch from the extended release to the ones you have to remember to take twice a day. They are much cheaper.
I got Jeff’s answer to my petition. He hired a lawyer, so I had to get a lawyer. The answer was actually exactly what I expected, but nicer. Beth had asked about Father’s Day. Let’s just say, Jeff won’t be getting a card this year, although I offered to buy one.
Chico is rotten and just like a baby. You know how babies throw their rattles in the floor and then you pick it up for them. Yeah, Chico does the same thing with his squeaky bear. Although, unlike a baby, Chico is fully able to get off my lap, get the bear, and get back up, he just won’t because he’s spoiled.
Remember last year Nate, Cam, Danlel and myself went to Hiddenite, NC to dig in the emerald mine? Well, Nate and I are going again tomorrow, just the two of us. I’m trying to decide whether to leave butt-ass early and come home early, or leave later and come home later.
I like the idea of getting there early, but four a.m. just hurts my feelings. I’m sure four a.m. would hurt Nate’s feelings as well, but, he’s not driving so he can sleep all he wants on the four hour trip there. I’m pretty excited to just be getting the hell out of here and spending the day digging in the dirt and the creek with my youngin’.
I got some of that Purex 3-in-1 detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets. I’m trying it out right now. I’ll let you know how it works.
I guess I should go out and muck out the car a bit. I believe, although I’m not certain, that our treasures from our last trip to Hiddenite are still under the front seat. That just sort of became their “place.” I’m taking something better than a plastic bag this time. I just finished some butter, so I’m going to use the butter tub. Hopefully it will be full of VALUABLE gems this time around. Regardless, we’ll have fun.
So, have a great evening and a great Thursday. (We’re off from counseling this week.)
Are when Nate and I see our respective counselors. I like both of our counselors. They’ve given me a lot of insight and hope into our situation but that doesn’t mean its fun getting there. It never is.
Nate is very open to counseling but the things they have coaxed out of him so far are disheartening. Disheartening for a parent who cannot see into the mind of their 12 year old and find all of the feelings they have stuffed down inside of it and the realization that we have so far to go.
Having been through counseling before, and being in counseling now, I know how much it hurts to dig shit up, to face it, and to deal with it appropriately. My heart aches for my son.
Nate and I both learned, over a period of time, not to express any emotion in front of Jeff. To do so, opened us both up to ridicule. Nate maintains that facade and he maintains that facade emotionally as well. He doesn’t talk about his father but I know he’s still there, in the back of his mind.
While Nate can maintain that facade while he is awake, he cannot when he sleeps. Although his father’s name was not mentioned, I could tell the counseling started roiling the bottom of Nate’s pond. It wasn’t unusual for Nate to talk in his sleep and wet the bed after an episode with his father.
Thursday night, after he went to bed, right about the time he hit REM, I could hear him start chattering. I’ve heard him say “no” and “quit” and “stop” but for the most part, its mumbling. I had a very hard time getting to sleep myself, as my mind just refuses to shut up, hence the doctor’s appointment on the 16th. Somewhere around 3 a.m. I was jolted awake by Nate yelling and as the fog in my mind cleared, I heard him mumbling again.
A short time later, Chico woke me with his whine/bark asking to be let into my bed. As I reached over the side of my bed, I heard Nate say, “Don’t pick him up, ” from the bathroom across from my bedroom. I did anyway and Nate asked where some clean underwear were and I heard him rummaging around in the dark, then he entered my room, I thought to retrieve Chico, but he laid down at the foot of my bed and went to sleep.
I had a dream later that morning about Jeff calling. I heard his ringtone and actually answered the phone. The conversation was benign, almost surreal. I don’t remember much of it, but remembered thinking in the dream that he didn’t ask about Nate. Not surprising, the interpretation for talking on a phone in a dream is that you need to confront issues you are trying to avoid, and to speak to someone you know, means that you need to confront that person.
I figured that out as soon as I woke up. Didn’t really need an interpretation.
I talked to my counselor about the other events in my life, separate from Jeff, that I’ve had to deal with, especially in the last two and a half years, starting with Kevin’s suicide in November of 2006, AZ’s engagement in December and, of course, the housefire. She asked, “How did you put one foot in front of the other?”
I answered, “Nate… and… that’s just how I am.” At least, that’s what I choked out between sobs.
She gave me, ha ha, writing assignments to be completed as we move through the process. She said, of course, that blogging and journaling is an excellent way to express my feelings. I had read on one of the news services that therapists were assigning patients to start blogs. Oh boy, I can’t wait! (Laugh, that was supposed to be funny.)
That reminds me of David Bowie (Jareth) from the movie, Labyrinth. If you haven’t seen it, he would say something mean around the little trolls and then he would say, “Well, laugh.” Then they would all laugh with him.
Nate’s grades, really not a laughing matter. He’ll either fail the 7th grade, or he may have to attend summer school. I’m prepared for either. His counselor has some theories about his poor school performance and what we can do about that. When I picked him up from school on Thursday, they were in the middle of their awards assembly.
When he came out I lightly asked him if he had gotten an award for the most days spent in lunch detention. He smiled and then I said I was sorry and he said, “No, that was actually pretty funny, M.” He said a little later, “I would like to get an award.” We talked about goals and that this year is over and there isn’t anything he can do about it now, so, he needs to look towards next year and about what he can do to achieve his goal of getting an award, for something, and not the most days spent in lunch detention.
I mentioned, as I have before, The Golden Horseshoe Test, which is given each year to WV 8th grade students to test their knowledge of WV History and I told him that he would be reading “Rocket Boys/October Sky” in conjunction with WV Studies. I told him I make sure we made it down to the October Sky Festival and help him study for the test.
Then I said, let’s just get through the next couple of days…
The weather is also no laughing matter. Its 58 degrees outside and I have my furnace on. ITS JUNE 6TH FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!! Oh, its Troy’s birthday. Happy Birthday Troy!!! Its also Chris Robertson’s birthday (from Black Stone Cherry). Happy Birthday Chris!!!
I’m not working today, but I’m still working. I’m catering a tea party for 10 five year olds and their mothers. Yes, I know, its five year olds, ten of them, and their mothers, but I need the money and its only three hours… I look to the fact that I found a BEAUTIFUL dress at a local department store that fits not only waist but my bosoms as well. This, this an anamoly and I have to capitalize on that.
So is my life today.
Chico is a little eliminator. He’s eliminated the need for me to clean up cat barf. In that regard, I should have named him Hoover. He’s also eliminated the need for me to seek and destroy hairballs. He is a hairball lover and had I known my cats’ regurgitated food/hair snakes would supply him with hours of chewing enjoyment I may well have saved a shit-ton of money buying him real toys.
He also chews on my old toothbrush, thus saving me the need to brush his teeth for him. It also precipitated the need for me to buy a new toothbrush as the toothbrush wasn’t really old, it just happened that after I had finished brushing my teeth one morning, and before putting said toothbrush back in the cabinet, one of the cats jumped up on the counter, and knocked the toothbrush to the floor where the little big-eared crumbcatcher was waiting.
Nate likes for me to bring Chico to school to pick him up. He rushes up, throws his 30 lb. bookbag at me, grabs the dog and says, “Ohhhhh, come on my little chick magnet.” He learned this behavior from his father.
We have decided that Chico’s ears are an indicator of : How rotten he is being (both ears totally erect), sad (both ears down), stable (one ear up/one ear down), and the weather: hot (both ears up), cold (both ears down), comfortable (one up/one down). Right now he is laying on a pile of laundry, chewing on his toothbrush, with both ears up. It is very comfortable in the house right now so this proves the little shit knows that was my toothbrush and he shouldn’t be chewing on it.
Tango was just trying to be sociable and Macy layed her ears back and growled at him. He thought he would try playing with Chico, but Chico is chewing on his toothbrush, which precipitated another round of growls from the laundry pile. Tango wandered off into the living room, which I find hilarious considering he is twice the size of Chico.
Perhaps this is because I have witnessed Chico racing after Tango with tufts of black cat hair in his mouth. The only cat Chico has a healthy fear of is Macy, because Macy will kick his ass. Chico will race up to the other cats and grab a hold of the skin at their neck and start tugging. Not Macy. He only has the nerve to nip at her ass and then skirts away with his tail between his legs when she turns and glares at him with the, “Oh no you didn’t,” look. If she could swivel her head, she would.
Nate likes to irritate Chico while he’s trying to nap. Chico, being a puppy, will play full force and then suddenly, “Um, I need a nap, so I gotta find a lap. *Snore*” Like, right now. Literally, he was chewing on his toothbrush, then came over, barked, I picked him up, he layed down, and *snore*. Now, if I go to pick him up, he’ll growl at me. Not a menacing I’m-going-to-eat-you-alive growl, but a quit-fucking-with-me-can’t-you-see-I’m-trying-to-sleep growl.
Nate has learned he doesn’t even have to pick him up or try to pick him up, all he has to do is touch him. So, he does. *Touch* *growl* *giggle* *touch* *growl* *giggle* *touch* *growl* *giggle* *touchgrowlgiggle* *touchgrowlgiggle*
NATE! STOP MESSING WITH THE DOG!!
Awwww! Its fun!
You’ll make him mean! Leave him alone!
*touch* *growl* *giggle*
I’ve taken to calling Chico – Chico Mocoso. “Mocoso” supposedly being the Spanish word for “brat.” It probably means “twat” or “douchebag” so I don’t say it out loud in front of my Mexican neighbors.
One would think I’d have the sense to use German words, since I do speak fluent German and he is half German, it would make more sense to call him a Schlingle, which I know means “brat” in German. At least, that’s what my host father told me. Then again, its colloquial and could also mean “douchebag.” Although I don’t see my host mother putting up with my host father calling me a douchebag for 20 years.
And let’s face it, Chico looks Mexican. Although he has several personality traits of the dachsund, namely his digging, burrowing, and attacking anything resembling a badger (the cats), in his features he definitely takes after the chihuahua side of the family. I mean, if he had taken after the dachsund side of the family I would have named him Hans and I would feel comfortable speaking German to him. I do call him Momma’s Bubba’s Little Badger Dog, and that will have to suffice.
In other news, I saw Lex yesterday. He texted me when I got off from work and I visited with him on the patio at Booksamillion before picking Nate up from his field trip. He looks good, good enough to eat. I’ll get to that. I got some good hugs and stole a sweet kiss. He’s preparing for the LSAT, so I sat down and took part of the test, which I got 100% on. Maybe I’ll study for and take the LSAT, just to see how I do. Anyway, Lex is trying to finish up his Masters in History while studying for the LSAT, working, and chasing me around.
I think, its going to be a great summer.
Object… My fridge.
And you thought I was going to say my blog. No where near it folks, no where near it! I chucked 99% of the crap out of my fridge and started over again. Nate left the milk out overnight a week ago when making his favorite late night snack of cereal. He left the jelly out a few nights later after making his other favorite late night snack… peanut butter and jelly.
Other than some pinto beans and cornbread, the rest was pretty old. Plus, given that I have a ginormous oppossum living in the dense jungle of railroad brush in front of my house, I only put out food garbage the night before trash runs in the lock-top trash contrainers, in the hopes that Ginormo and I don’t have an early morning run-in over stray food left on my porch. He may be so ugly he’s cute, but that still means he’s ugly.
Chico reminded me it was time for his second worming by puking food and worms all over my leg on the way home from taking Nate to school the other day. Okay, maybe I waited a bit too long on the second worming. I almost puked myself as he REINGESTED said food and worms. BLECH! BLECH! BLECH!
Needless to say, Chico met our vet the same day. He weighs… 2 lbs. 10 oz. and he was such a good puppy about getting his shots. He’s a little spoiled.
I’m thinking of taking Nate and going to King’s Island this weekend. I’m due a really good paycheck.
I’m also thinking of taking voice lessons this summer from a lady who used to hostess for us. She is our former bartender’s girlfriend and they stopped by the restaurant the other night and I mentioned singing to her and she said she was giving lessons. I’ve always wanted to and I need something for me.
I also went to my first counseling session on Tuesday. I’ll be taking Nate to his first on Thursday.
I started cutting the grass on Sunday, I finally finished it today. Now the part that I cut Sunday needs cut again.
I haven’t been reading any blogs. I hope you’re all okay. We’re doing fine.
Just wanted to let the world know that when I got home from work today, I found that both of Chico’s ears are now standing up!!!! Before, he had one up and one down. It was funny to manipulate the floppy ear to get it stand up and then he would move and it would fall and Nate and I would say, “Awwwwww.”
Nate told me yesterday, “I think its getting ready to stand up, Mom. I think its ready.” I was transfering clothes from the washer to the dryer and Chico was playing around my feet. I looked down and thought it looked like they were both up, so I picked him up and whoop! There’s the ear!
I’m sorry I don’t have pictures, but I keep forgetting to get more batteries for my camera.
*Sniff* He looks so much older. He also looks striking in his new camoflauge collar, because, as you know, he’s Momma’s Bubba’s Little Badger Dog.
As a side note… if you receive really oustanding service and the food is awesome, and you gush to your server about it, please, let that show in the tip. While I appreciate “The food and service were excellent,” a “Good job” and then tipping 10% doesn’t pay my bills. Its like going in for a yearly performance evaluation, getting excellent marks, and then not getting a raise.
Also, if you decide to drive up on a stop sign, pause, drive through, and then almost get broadsided by my car, don’t give ME a look! Especially since you can’t flip me off because you’re too busy yakking on your cellphone to even stop at a stop sign and look in the other three directions! I will have both hands free to flip you off and loudly honk my horn… for a block and a half. I will then play, “I Hate My Life,” by Theory of a Deadman in your honor.
“I hate all of the people/who can’t drive their cars/bitch you better get outta the way/before I start falling apart.”
Time for bed!
Oh wait, that’s not a rabbit.
This is a rabbit! Whooo-eeee, look at that Hoss.
Ha! This time I remembered. Its Beltane (May Day) so get out there and enjoy some sunshine and fresh air, if you have any. Its raining here so dancing around the bonfire nekkid will have to wait. Traditionally, this is the time to light two fires and drive your herds between the two for purfication and protection. However, not having much of a herd, unless you count cats as a herd, I tend to celebrate Beltane in the Germanic way, with a Maypole, fertility rituals, and a long walk in the forest.
Sadly, I have no Maypole, do not wish to be fertile, except in a monetary sense, and walking in my yard in the rain will have to suffice for a walk in the forest. I do have to make a casserole today so lighting the oven will have to substitute for a bonfire.
Hope you have a prosperous month and a beautiful day!