Category Archives: March 2013

Trust Betrayed

I had to wait and few days until I attempted to even try and put my thoughts on this subject into any kind of order.

A month ago, my puppy lost her innocence while at Doggy Daycare and had an ‘encounter’ with an intact male. Even though I was assured there wasn’t any intact males there, and I even sent her with protective pants in her little ‘School Bag’

My Vet who has been simply an incredible human being throughout this, told me regardless if she should be pregnant or not we needed to wait a month before she could be spayed.  The owner of the Doggy Daycare went with ‘Ooops’, not so much of an incredible human being.

careSo Friday rolls around and I drop my ball of fluffiness off for what we are all praying will be a straightforward spay. It never occurred to me that at the pre op appointment I would face the questions of what the Vet should do, should she indeed be pregnant?

I am still beyond pissed that the chance of her being pregnant had even arisen, I truly never stopped a second to consider the ‘What ifs?’
Every day there are thousands of puppies being thrown away, not to mention the bitches euthanized after their puppy bearing years are done. I am so conflicted but my pup isn’t even a year old. She has still a little growing to go, she hasn’t even lost her first tooth. If she were indeed pregnant the Vet couldn’t be 100% sure that she would be able to carry any pups without endangering their lives or hers. I hate that she and I are in this difficult situation through no fault of our own. I decided that I couldn’t take the chance of loosing her before her life had really started. She is my responsibility and I have to safeguard her, no matter what the cost.
I agreed with my vet that should she be pregnant she was still to go ahead with the Spay. I left my fur kid there and had everything crossed that she had dodged that bullet.

My sweet, furry monster was indeed pregnant with three puppies. During the op which had now escalated to be major surgery from routine due to the pregnancy her blood pressured dropped and she had to spend a couple extra hours hooked up with fluids. My heart is broken for so many different reasons. I have to give my little one meds for pain and meds to remove her milk production and help with the rush or hormones that she will have to endure with no longer being pregnant.
I realise that I’ve been thinking of these 3 week old embryos as fluffy little puppies that everyone sees in the adverts is frowned upon and that’s the age old debate, when is life, life?
I know it is the best decision for  my pup, but it is so hard not to anthropomorphise this situation.
Will she know?
Did she know?
Is she going to be the same dog afterwards?
A million questions are bombarding me. I try to fill my day with anything and everything until it’s time to collect her and bring her home.

spay+puppyMy little one is put into my arms and nothing else matters. She is very subdued, very quiet but considering the day she has had its only to be expected.  I bundle her into the car and try to make her as comfortable as possible with her blankets and we drive home.

What a night. I know she was getting miffed at me everytime I checked on her through the night. She gave me the equivalent of a puppy eye roll and ‘Mom, chill already’ look.
Hearing her snoring was I think the happiest sound I have heard in a very long time. She slept and I mulled over what had just happened. I think I had envisaged a painful death for the Doggy Daycare owner over a hundred ways before dawn broke. What would she have to say about the pups and now lack of them? My bill had trebled from what it should have been to allow for the additional surgery and meds, fluids etc she needed. I would give anything for any of my animals but shouldn’t this be a cost covered by the Doggy Daycare owner? Did I even want her money?

Facebook Messenger pings and it’s her asking how the patient is? So I share how she had been pregnant, had a major surgery and complications. Her response was one line. ‘I hope she feels better soon’
I shut off the computer and went to check on my snoring monster.  In a weekend my poor furball had major surgery, I plotted the demise of another human being and am not being forced into being the adult, because I have to have a so this is what happened and here’s the bill.

Right now I will nurse my ball of fur back to health. I don’t care about the money, I care about her and any other dog this could happen to. What if she had have been a $5000 Pedigree dog ?
She should have been safe, I can’t imagine if this tale were to get out that it would enhance her Business ratings.


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Filed under 2018, March 2013

How Does This Adulting Work?

From my time on this rotating planet I have never had anything close to a good relationship with my Father. As a child he was never interested in us, unless it was to berate, humiliate or treat in a thousand other miserable ways.
To be perfectly truthful I don’t actually have any pleasant memories of him, but I can immediately bring to mind a dozen painful memories. He was always so embarassed
that his oldest child was a poof, a fag, queer, but hey we all have our crosses to bear, right?

Eight years ago, my Mom passed unexpectedly, and his world shattered around him. He hid in his bedroom when he was upset, tearful or just felt any other emotion other than anger. My siblings and I sorted the funeral, meeting people. We sorted her clothes into trash bags to take to the charity shop, he never even looked at any of them. Her jewellery and anything else she valued he told us to divide. He never even looked at anything, not jewellery, not picture not a damn thing.

Bizarrely for the next year I would be there every night to make his dinner when he came home. I always remembered older family members saying how hard it is to come home to an empty house or one without lights on. houseTime marches on and everyone muddles their way through. This was all new territory to us. So now eight years on we all muddle through. We can stand the occasional meals together and I have been assigned a new role of his medical / emotional needs. So if he’s feeling lonely I am meant to use a crystal ball and figure it out and then of course work out how to fix it. When he spends money on gifts that no one really knows what to do with or that aren’t of any use, I have to make it better, or tell them the response he’s looking for, kinda messed up eh?

Recently I got a new puppy. I am single, answer to no one but me so saying yes to a puppy was the new challenge I needed, I had just put to sleep one of my older dogs leaving me with a single dog, who I knew would not settledog being an only dog. It all seemed to happen at the right time for all the right reasons.
My Father is absolutely terrified of dogs, whether they’re 2 lbs or 100 lbs. Remember this little factoid.

Well this new puppy is 10 months old. Chews anything she decides might taste interesting. Loves to run at faster than a speeding bullet all while looking like she came out of the movie Gremlins. Lets just say, the mixture of breeds she is, has left her with a face only a Mother could love. She has established herself at Doggy Daycare and albeit she weighs 5 pound wet, she runs the pack. She is a pain in the butt for my older dog, but she also cuddles up to her. She is hell on 4 paws, she frustrates me, makes me laugh and loves me with her crooked grin. Why am I telling you about this whirling dervish? I tell you because my Father adores the ground her paws walk on. Ironic eh?

He could care less than I own an amazing, cute, talented older gal, who loves cuddles, loves chicken and adores the days the puppy is at Doggy daycare!
I hate he makes a difference. I know they aren’t kids, I understand that all to well but they are as important to me as kids, and I love them BOTH. I chose them for as long as they are on this earth alive they are mine.

Tonight, my Dear old Daddy wanted to watch a parade, but instead of just saying that. He decided that WE should watch the parade together as well as taking the puppy. After all it would be the best opportunity for her to experience it. I’ll pause here to allow the look of disbelief to leave your face.
Suddenly my mind is spinning………… DO I allow him to dictate?
What if the puppy freaks out from the noise or people?
What if my Father loses his temper at the puppy?
Setting aside the feeling of dread in my stomach at the idea of my Father being in my home or ‘safe space’

I knew I had no option but to let him plod along, thinking he was being the bigger man spending time with his gay Daughter, all for the good of this puppy. The entire time I felt as if I was riding a bull through a field of explosives. The puppy survived, the fistful of treats I had helped ease that process. It was all over in less than a hour, but sitting here now I feel as if I have ran a marathon. My dogs are both asleep and chasing rabbits in their field of dreams. I am sitting here 5am wondering what the hell just happened?
Did I take the path of least resistance? Or did I fold like a cheap poker hand?
I’m wondering if I react to this man as the scared child I once was or as the mature adult who knows he’s an old, lonely man who in some way is trying to be a better man?

The wounded part of my soul tells me to reinforce the walls. Not to see the glimmer of good or hope. The adult part of me, the Youth Leader part of me tells me to see what happens. Just see where it goes. Worse case scenario he’ll screw up, best case scenario he’ll surprise me and everyone else.
It’s now 5.16am and I don’t know the answer, perhaps I will never know the right path. I know as hard as it is not to collapse into quivering heap of jelly around him, I know the scars I carry from this man will keep my therapist in a job for life.

Tonight I will cuddle both my babies, and dream of a less complicated tomorrow. With less questions and more clarity. The sun is rising from his stupor and I hope I can find a little peace to find mine

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Filed under March 2013

Decisions, Decisions, & More Decisions

Sooooo, it’s been quite the while since I have posted. In this time I have discovered

  • Good fences, make good neighbours
  • Vacuuming stairs is exhausting and redundant with 4 hairy beasts in the house
  • People are more interested in deciphering my past, than meeting me in the present.
  • The goat that currently resides at the bottom of my garden, is a great listener, when her ears are scratched, or if I have stale bread to feed her (She’s not mine)
  • I shouldn’t do my grocery shopping online last thing at night when I’m tired, or I could end up with 27 packets of crackers and 32 kitchen rolls (I kid you not!)
  • The elderly neighbour who has complained about barking, hates everything, everyone and everything. Truly sad existence
  • Teenagers eat copious amounts of cookies while hanging out at your house, they also expect the supplies to be replenished to enable this cycle to continue unimpeded.
  • I LOVE the peace and quiet of NOT hearing a TV. My TV is now my computer monitor and the envy of most of my visitors.
  • Most important of all, that I’m doing ok.

They saying moving house is one of the most stressful things you can do, and they sure weren’t lying. The amount of crap I had packed in boxes that I have no need for, no use for was truly overwhelming. I believe I meet the criteria for pat rat, possibly heading towards an intervention as a hoarder.

Most of my tasks have been taken care off, unpacking clothes, ordering new appliances etc I just have to finish emptying boxes and wait impatiently for the arrival of my recliner. This recliner is my on indulgence. Not a car, not jewellery, not clothes, but an electric Lazy Boy recliner. Any visitors to my home will understand this is my throne from where I will rule my modest kingdom, I don’t anticipate sharing this chair, as with great power, comes great responsibility. *Pauses for dramatic music crescendo*

I’ve become quite the house ‘butch’ cleaning, washing, dusting etc all done to a schedule that I don’t like to have interrupted. My family are still somewhat shell shocked to see that I have coped, kept house, fed myself and my hairy beasts and not managed to burn the house down or poison my dogs or the goat! This pisses me off as well as pleases me. On low days I wonder if they thought I lived under a bridge with the Trolls? and on good days I am happy to endure their friendly banter.

So far so good eh? For the most part 99% of the time it is. I’ve been here almost 3 months, and I’m starting to exchange friendly conversations with the neighbours, I’m the cool one that always has ice lollies or randomly finds a football that I can’t use when their Grand kids call to visit with them. You’re sensing a ‘but’, yup it’s coming…….sighs. My ex every 2-3 weeks will send a random text asking to visit the dogs. She is pleasant, respectful and I have no issue with her seeing them, I have only one stipulation. Dum Dum Dummmmm that she will never set foot in my home. Initially I thought this was selfish but I have come to realise this is what I need to take care of me. My new place is mine and the hairy monsters and anyone invited into my home is welcomed and valued and someone I want to spend time with. Unfortunately she no longer is any of these things. So I take the hairy beasts to my Dads enclosed garden and she gets to visit with them. I have never once to date, refused to let her see them or not worked it around her schedule. The view I took was, ‘what if it were me?’ and I wasn’t going to bed with them them curled around me or, a wet nose nudging my hand to hurry up and get outta bed suddenly stopped, how would I feel? Answer:DEVASTATED
Seems simple so far, yeah I agree, but now we are coming into Fall. The weather is changing, very soon having a visit outside will be impossible due to weather and I won’t move on her being in my home. So what do I do?

I have friends telling me to just tell her to go to Hell and stop her seeing them. I have other friends telling me that she never bothered with them when she seem them everyday so it’ll be no big loos to her……. I could go on and on sharing folks views, truth is I didn’t dwell on it too much. I thought she would get bored or distracted with seeing them and to an extent she has, the time periods between her visits are getting longer and longer. She has made some noises abut when she gets settled in her new place, having them overnight (Yeah, NO). Then BOOM, I get a text, see her name and assume its another visit with the dogs, OH NO, not this time. This time its a cryptic ‘I’ve left an envelope for you at your Dads. Of course I had to go see what it contained and lo and behold it’s money, which is half the current book price of the car we had, half the price of the last repair I paid for and £50 which she had itemised to help with dog food and licenses. All very civilised right? Wrong, also enclosed was a little hand written note telling me that I obviously don’t care about her feelings and that’s only to be expected but it really upsets her seeing and leaving the dogs, and that she doesn’t want to cause them or her unnecessary upset. She goes on to thank me for letting her see the dogs. I am standing looking at this white, lines piece of paper, reading and rereading it. I must have read that note a hundred different ways. Different inflections in my tone, breaking down the sentence structure. I stuffed it back in the envelope with the money determined to tell her to shove the whole lot where the sun doesn’t shine. It wasn’t my finest hour.

So for the next few days and nights, this damn piece of paper wove itself into my thoughts. I swung between pissed to apathy and everything in between.
So I don’t care about her feelings? I have done nothing but accomodate her visiting them, I am polite when she is there but I don’t want to talk about anything other than the weather. I chose to not hear about what she’s doing and I make a point of not sharing anything personal with her. While it might seem a little tense, it’s civil and at least the dogs get to explore the garden without their leashes. If I didn’t care about her feelings, I wouldn’t let her see the dogs. I would have started proceedings to sue her for half the debt she has left me with. I don’t have any interest in what she’s doing, where or with whom. We are no longer together and our relationship didn’t have any offspring of the human variety, so I don’t need to see her and I don’t need to let her see the dogs. Honestly right now if I could chose to never run into her again or have to take the dogs to ‘visit’ I’d be ok with that. I honestly thought I would find a void without her in my life, the truth is I haven’t. This sounds harsh but it is the truth. Am I being a bitch, honestly I think everyone will have varying views on this subject.

So what’s next? What do I do with the money? I wish I had an all knowing, all wise guru to give me the answer. Alas they seem to be in short supply. Should I just give her back the £50 she allocated for the dogs?, that way she can’t say she maintains them and has a ‘obligation’ or ‘right’ to see them. I know this would hurt her and no doubt she and her circle of friends would read into this, I wouldn’t do it simply to hurt her, I just need her to know that I am responsible now for these hairy brutes, and that her token £50 is not anything I want or need. As for the rest of it I run between giving it all back to her, or spending it on something ridiculous. Maybe I should donate it to an animal shelter. I just don’t want that envelope with money in my house or anywhere near me. It’s been almost 3 weeks since she’s texted and I know she will be in contact in the near future. So the clock is ticking on any decision I make. Do I use a magic 8 Ball?, try and find a crystal ball? or a helpful Gypsy?

Decisions, decisions. The last thing I have discovered? It sucks to be an adult!.
For now I enjoy the little things, and I wait for the next adult decision. There isn’t a manual or self help guide for this, what I do know is that life is far to short and wonderful to waste worrying about the impending doom of a text message or hastily scribbled note.

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Filed under March 2013

Adulting Sucks A$$

It’s 2.43am in the morning of Thursday 15th April 2016. I believe now that I am on the home strait of finally seeing the end goal of having somewhere new to live and to start the next chapter of my life.

The house has been sold, so I’m in the process of decluttering. I have been RUTHLESS!! which anyone who knows me, will understand how this is the exact opposite of how I am. I have found clearing ‘rubbish’ or deciding if I need to keep a box of VHS tapes or the floppy discs that I stumbled across very freeing.

Normally I detest change, avoid throwing things away, just in case in the pending Zombie apocalypse I might need that half used glue stick or the Gameboy SP. I think in some ways it has been as if I am clearing history, letting go off the acquired junk. Then I realised it wasn’t erasing history but ensuring that the path ahead is free from any clutter of the past relationship. Clutter….some memories or just possessions that we had gathered up together, possessions now we are apart either seemed laced with infectious irony or just meaningless material items that I no longer gain pleasure from.

I’ve watched my ex through this time sorting pictures and letters etc. she seems to have slowed down in her urgency to for a complete finality to us or defined end.




I’m throwing things away under the reasoning of
Have I looked for it?
Will I need to use it in the next two weeks?
Is it irreplaceable?
If the answers to these three questions were NO, then I happily tossed it out. I didn’t worry that someone else might need it, or in six months I might suddenly wake in a panic wondering where my roller skates from 1986 where????
(Side note. I would kill myself if I were to even contemplate skating let alone find a way to magically shrink my feet back to the size they were!)

Strangely I am looking forward to the challenges of creating my new home, colours, decorating, heck even housework knowing it’s my mess, my house, and taking care of it I am running scenarios in my head, which are no longer scary but actually optimistic and maybe evcen filled with a little hope.

By now I know you’re thinking so, you sound happy, things are progressing when’s the BUT coming?
The BUT, has the form of my furry family. I am owned and loved my five furry little gremlins, who make sure I don’t oversleep when they need out to bark at any pending danger, such as next doors cat washing herself. They make sure I know it’s time to eat, and in case I might forget they have an established ritual of jumping on my head, or barking at me to ensure I’m not asleep and that I know if they are not fed in the next thirty seconds they will pass away from starvation!
They are my comfort when it’s a bad pain day, my entertainment when a butterfly dive bombs them, and my fiercest , most loyal defenders, who create a fur wall between me and any impending threats. If you pass their sniffing test you might be allowed into the house, as for sitting too close to me, well that’s another story. They do however take their lead from me, they understand when I tell them someone’s ok, or a friend and safe to come into our domain. They also know when I use the ‘Mom’ voice that it’s time to listen.

They are tiny in stature, but in their minds they are mighty, ferocious beasts. They are my pride and absolute joy. Two of my little dudes are qualified and working therapy dogs. I cannot find the words to express how this proud this makes me, that these little guys trust me enough to share their amazing talents with other people. We work primarily with special needs kids, of all ages. The kids are stunned to see a dog arrive for class, they clamber for their turn to stroke or talk with the dog/dogs. Listening to a child with an incredibly debilitating speech impediment, read fluently to this furry little dude, who cocked his head to listen, who watched him intently but always without judgement. My little guy didn’t realise they were reading about ‘The Cat In The Hat’, he just believed they were telling him what an awesome little furry guy he was. My lil men, take their job seriously and happily accept having their nose cleaned by a helpful child when they sneeze, or wearing boxers on a visit because one of the kids was having issues wearing boxers and not his pull up nappy.westie My lil men listened to stories told in an indecipherable way to us silly adults, but in a way that made total sense to that little girl. I watched my little men, lean into the child,  as they showed them the pictures in their books. I watched as they could walk into a classroom and know instinctively which child needed them that day, whether it was a belly rub, or a lick to their hands just to let them know, it was go to be ok. I could type pages and pages retelling the funny stories and incredible miracles that I was privileged enough to witness.
In a radio interview, when I was asked to describe it, I told them ‘It’s just like watching real Harry Potter magic’ I just hold the leash, they do all the work.

My ex has decided that she wants to contribute to their food, vet bills etc In theory sounds great. In practice I believe it will toxic. Paying towards their various needs will allow her an excuse to come ‘visit’ them, spend time with them. She knows I won’t let them out of my sight so that would involve her knowing where I live and having a reason to call.
She couldn’t be bothered with them when she lived here, I truly don’t believe it will serve any good purpose to accept her money. I would prefer she didn’t help with their costs and just left them and I to get on with our journey.

Selfish? HELL Yeah!!! I don’t want the complication, the toxicity, the drama. I know in her own way she is fond of them. With her working full time she at least was sensible enough to agree they should be with me, as I’m home and have more time for them. Will I agree that she can come see them, in theory, probably. I truly believe that the notion or novelty of her seeing them will wear off and eventually fizzle out. The question is whether or not I can suck up my misgivings and fears to allow her to get bored with her ‘dog visits’ ?
It sucks being an adult! I hate that I am feeling bad for her in case she is missing the dogs, and I know I would be devastated if I had been kept from them. It would have been so much easier if I could just be a bitch and tell hadulter NO………..

I honestly don’t know what the outcome will be. Some days I can see clearly what I should do and other days I cannot see my hand in front of my face. I think it will be one of those decisions that I can’t make until its the only decision left to make.
Again being an adult is truly CRAP!

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Filed under March 2013

These Are A Few Of My Favourite Things..

Funny I couldn’t even type that title without singing it. I have found myself enjoying alot of ‘firsts’

For the first time in almost 27 years I now have a car that’s mine, I don’t have to schedule when I need it, I don’t have to explain where I am going or with whom. I am not complaining in any way, I still have to pinch myself every time I open the door and see it in my driveway. I wonder if I’m reluctant to enjoy it because I’m waiting for the universal ‘HAHAHA ONLY JOKING!!’, and for it all to come crumbling down. Ever the pessimist!!

Finding things where I know I left or put them is so pleasing. I realise that might sound trite or petty, but the amount of ‘missing’ items I have now discovered inside a plastic bag, which has been tied and stored inside 3 or 4 more plastic bags!!!

Doing what I need to and want to, without having to think about anything but getting back to walk the dogs or let them out for a toilet break is truly the strangest and most freeing feeling.
I have decided to celebrate the little things. Enjoying having a little Scooby doo on top of my rear view mirror, pleases me. scoobyHaving an R2-D2 vanilla air freshener , pleases me, while smelling great!

Remembering the handbrake is on the dashboard and not on the floor, makes me grin each time I get it right. Admittedly each time I reach to the floor it makes me laugh, so it’s a win, win. I think now I delight in little things, which before I either didn’t notice or or found redundant. I create vinyl graphics for friends, either for their cars or to put on shirts etc.
Having the opportunity to now design something for my jeep, or  just for the spare tyre on the back pleases me and I’ve found a little intimidating, cuz my friends are asking what I’m gonna create for it, or are offering various suggestions. It’s so much easier to create for friends than make a decision for what I would like. It’s a great quandary to have, and most likely when you next check back I will still be procrastinating about what I want to see on it, if anything.

For tonight, I am enjoying a few of my favourite things, spending time with my dogs, indulging my Youtube viewing addiction, while munching chips dipped in ketchup (Seriously try it!)

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Filed under March 2013

Mourning For ‘The What Ifs’

For almost 6 months now I have been single and have experienced everything from guilt, emotional pain, remorse, despair but yet I have slowly come to the realization that the overwhelming emotion I have been battling in my dreams, the strange ache in the pit of my stomach is not for the loss of a 26 year relationship, or a woman I once loved, but it is grief.

Grief and mourning for the children I will never get to hold, the little hands that wont reach up around my neck when they’re tired or afraid. Lately my sleep has been interspersed with mini movie reels of what I have always secretly yearned for but chose to not pursue for a myriad of reasons, not least that my ex didn’t want children, and in fact didn’t even like to be around little people.

It was not a decision I came to lightly. When we met I was 16 and never thought that I would be loved by anyone, never thought a same sex relationship would be tolerated in the tiny country village in which I live.
In my mind I always pictured an old fashioned brass weighing scale, where on one side there were kids, marriage, family life etc and on the other a same sex relationship with someone I loved, who loved me. Depending on my mood, the scales balance would shift daily.

It never occurred to me that I could have both, or that 10, 20 years later I could still have had both. The first few years of our relationship were spent hiding, trying to be safe and keep each other safe. Knowing that we had huge targets on our back, but it was the 2 of us against the world. We would be the ones to make it and show them all.

I’ve worked with and volunteered with children for as long as I can remember. A room full of little people at a Birthday party I delighted in. Folks telling me that I should be a Teacher or work with special needs kids as I seemed to have a talent or knack for it, while pleasing to hear, simply hurt. Each time it was mentioned I wanted to explain why these little kids were my pure joy, but I doubt anyone would have taken me seriously. I will never forget reading about Hans Christen Anderson, this amazing storyteller found his audience with children, quite by accident. He discovered they listened to him without judgement or mockery when he told his magical tales, and to them it didn’t matter that he suffering from a debilitating stammer. I can still recall the book in my hands, how the ink smelled, the picture of him sitting at a fountain with a gaggle of eager little people hanging on his every word, my tears fell silently onto the beautiful illustration, because in that instant it was as if they were writing about me.

It wasn’t because I had a talent with children, it was that they had patience for me. One goofy adult who would play their games, listen to their stories, answer their questions and never seen a frown or judgement when I stuttered or stumbled over a word or got too excited and couldn’t string 2 words together.

I used to daydream of a ‘normal’ life, the kind you would see in a 1950’s ad for the perfect home, white picket fence, you get the picture. Alas the reality was just the opposite, we had to live a life that was simply fraught with anxiety, stress and secrecy. Only now it has occurred to me that for almost all of our relationship the only safe place was inside our home, behind locked doors. The result of which was we were either so exhausted from the pretence that when we got home we collapsed and dozed in front of the tv or did ‘our’ own things or we forgot that it was safe to be close with each other, affectionate with each other.

Tonight I watched by new Great Niece coo and blow bubbles as my Sister held her. I adore this child, and love seeing her change daily and watch my Niece become the most amazing Mother, but it also causes me a little hurt, or pang of the ‘what ifs’.

I know that I could foster, volunteer in any number of ways, but for now I think I need to spend a little time working through this new found emotion that has manifested itself in dreams etc.

While I make peace with the choices I made, the decisions I felt were the correct ones at the time, I get to watch this new human being, grow, change and become everything she can be. My new start, new place to live will also be blessed with a ring side seat of being involved in this little ladies life and getting to watch her blossom.
I’ll also be able to tell her stories of her Mom growing up, how alike they are, and how at one of the lowest points in my life she taught me to revel in the little things. To enjoy the smiles, to blow bubbles and to sing silly songs because it makes us both happy.

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Filed under March 2013

Being Gay And Guilty Of Stereotyping

I had the pleasure of attending my friends Wedding Blessing. They were celebrating 33 wonderful years together and decided to renew their vows. I can honesty say I have never experienced anything quite like it nor do I think I ever will again.

wedding handsThe Service the was mostly organised by the Wife of the couple, her Husband was happy to be a statue and stand where he was bid. He would have stood there naked if it would have pleased his lovely wife.

There I am sitting in the pew, waiting for it all to begin and I noticed the Minister. He was an older Gentleman, small in stature but he had the most compelling voice. He introduced himself and welcomed my friRoman-Collarend and I to the Church. Turns out he is the reigning World Champion in Flower Arranging. Mac, as he introduced himself to us, never mentioned this, in fact had it not been mentioned in the Thank you speech, none of us would have been any the wiser.

As the Service continued, I should have been focussed on my friends but I couldn’t take my eyes of Mac. There was something just so familiar about him, I suspect he just had the gift of making everyone feel like a friend. At the end of the service my friend arrived over to us with Mac and another guy on her arm. The other guy, was the opposite of Mac, over 6ft tall, manicured nails, designer glasses, couture suit, aftershave that wafted around us, making me want to enquire its make. I shook hands with Mac again, adorned in his Ministerial Robes and turned to shake the hand of this handsome stranger and to my utter shock and disbelief as I’m shaking his hand, he’s introduced as Macs Husband.

As the reception continued, I found myself musing, if I had some internal notion that Ministers should be celibate, or must be straight. Maybe it was the fact I had looked at Mac, this small, elderly man and decided he had to have a typical Ministers wife at home, who would make sure his attire was neat and tidy and he had his glasses with him. Why shouldn’t he have a husband?
Why couldn’t or shouldn’t a Minster be gay?
Should the Flower arranging title have been a stereotypical clue?

As I started to munch through a ham sandwich, I wondered if there were other preconceived notions I had or held about other folks?
I like to think I am open and accepting of anyone, no matter race, creed, size or shape, but today I had written this enigmatic older Gentleman off as a retired Minster who must have a home maker wife. His Husband came over and sat at the table my friend and I were at.
What an interesting man. He talked with passion on many different topics. He made me laugh when he talked about Mac forgetting where he had left his reading glasses, only to discover they were on top of his head.

The tone of his voice, softened as he playfully teased Mac and you could easily hear that it was in jest and he was indeed proud of his Husbands many different achievements, his World Champion Status, his standing in the Church. They way they smiled at each other, the twinkle in each others eyes made me yearn for something similar.

For the first time since the end of my current relationship, when asked if I was with someone, I confirmed my single status. The words sounded so strange coming out of my mouth, but after they were said I actually felt more at ease. We spent the rest of the afternoon critiquing Celebrity outfits and decided we obviously had much better taste than they!

Two days have past and I still find myself reflecting to Mac and his delightful Husband. The incorrect assumptions I had made, the look of surprise I tried to hide when we were introduced.
How can I be outraged and pissed off when someone makes an incorrect assumption about me when I am just as guilty as they are?

My hope is that this chance encounter with a delightful new couple will teach me a valuable lesson. You truly cannot judge someone, based on a two second glance. I would have missed out on a delightful afternoon in their company.

So what did I learn?

Never judge a Minister by his job,
never assume you will suddenly have these gay spidey sense that will tingle and alert you to every other LGBT person in a 1 mile vicinity to me.

Oh yes, I almost forgot. I can say I am recently single without bursting into flames and complimenting a gay man on his aftershave ensures you a BFF for life.


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Filed under March 2013