Don’t Mess With Me!

I love my animals. They remind me that unconditional love exists and that they love me for three reasons. I love them, I care for them and I feed and water them. So simple and they are so loyal. This is not simply with furries… this too with any tiny creature.

Fish are very much with personality too. I am sad to say Esmi passed away a week ago. This is my new baby Esmi II.  He filled the tank with life after Esmi passed. 

I felt horrible.  I think I overfed Esmi … tried too hard. He was 5 years old and I didn’t realize, albeit tough fish they are, they do age too. And as my daughter said… it was her fish dog I adopted.. “Mom, you know it is never healthy to over feed any creature”. True. Human or not.

Strangely enough I connected with the mother syndrome. My mother fed us out of love and I do same to all around me. Since now 6 years bulimic free I think I am realizing more and more a pattern. I eat healthy but still tend to want to feed myself sometimes and too others to show love and caring.

My daughter sent me a message. Sometimes just love without the excess food is all any creature or human needs.. and it’s healthier.

Love my daughter.. insightful…

The Dance

This song by Garth Brooks has to be the most wonderful song I ever heard.  Other than his Maria for Christmas time.  Those two songs bring a tear to my eye each time.  The latter I will blog about around Christmas because it’s too early for that right now.  So dancing being my theme tonight, I’ll focus on his song “The Dance”.  I’ve only loved twice in my life other than my children and my animals.

Now what is weird is the love for the two men in my life were the bulimic triggers in my life.  Not my children, or my animals.  Wait, a third.  Trying to prove myself to them in business.

Yes.  Trying to prove myself.  Maybe even to my parents.  I hated that feeling.  Any feeling I HATE triggered the feeling of wanting to eat and yes, throw up the feeling.

I only wanted  them to dance with me.

My father taught me how to dance.  Really dance.  The type of dance that says you trust.  You hold the hand of the man you love and you let him lead.  The one time you want him to lead.  NO not you.  HIM.  His fingers tell you when to spin, when to turn, when to pull close, when to pull away.  Magically his fingers tell you.

It’s almost like meeting toe to toe like in the movie The Story of Us.

I’m here and there in this blog, but three things I know if you love someone:
Actions mean more than words

Touching toes when you have had an argument means everything will be okay

Dancing holding hands and knowing what those fingers and hand gestures are saying means you know

When anyone one, even one falls to the wayside it means something is wrong.  It’s up to one or the other to say help.  But even to that it may never help the problem… but even so.. there is always the song … The Dance

Because… I wouldn’t have changed a thing and I’m glad I didn’t know how the chips would fall both times… “I could have missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the…. the dance”.

Because I wouldn’t have…. most likely… even given my heart out.

Not likely to again…. twice bitten now too shy.  But doesn’t mean I can’t love.  Just more so now my animals.  It’s safe now.
And my parents, sisters… safe zone.

But to my two loves, thanks for the memories.

And I still dance to a new tune 🙂

Two and A Half Men? Is this a healthy show?

I love Two and a Half Men – the old one with Charlie.  But sometimes I think that it’s not the healthiest show to watch.  I mean, Charlie with all those sexy skinny girls and older ones are generally not appealing to him.  Although the older ones, in fairness, that he did like were too smart for him.  So it’s a catch 22 when watching it.  But I can’t help but think about my sagging boobs (wait!! they were always saggy!!) and my extra weight around my belly and below my waist which they call love handles, but to me they are just four pounds of extra butter.  I know I can work it off, but there is no reason compelling enough for me to want to at this time.  Winter and cold early spring make me turn into a bear.  Hybernation.  I’m so looking forward to the sunshine and warm weather and being able to take my bicycle out.  49 1/2.  I remember at 42 dating guys younger – 36, 38 – and finding out that they wanted to be with me simply because back then they figured I’d end up with a good settlement from my divorce.  They made fund of my old body.  You think being young is tough.  Try aging.  But going out with older men is not any better unless you are 10 to 15 years younger then them, which means I’d have to date a 60 to 65 year old.  Maybe that’s not so bad in this day and age, but even to that, they are dating 30 year olds.  No winning.  Men have it made.  No matter what age, no matter what size, they get the younger women and leave us leather faced oldies to just sit and ponder about life while they woop it up with their younglings.  I’m not bitter, just sometimes disenfranchised with this whole thing about relationships.  Maybe why I like being alone, writing, and hanging out with Hampy and my animals.  Having said that, there still is an intimacy missing there.  Someone to hold, even if on occasion.  Someone to tell you they love you no matter what.  Someone who excites you and you them.  Maybe I’m too old for all that now, but I still want it.  Not looking anymore, but if I am made to have that, then God will provide.  Until then I remain The Girl In The Barn.

a true friend is a horse

a true friend is a horse.

A true friend is defined by loyalty and honesty.  A horse, a dog, a human who does not betray you, chooses to love you no matter who you are, no matter how upset you get, how much you talk, how much you cry, how much you laugh, how much you dance all by yourself.  Animals in general don’t judge you.  They love you unconditionally unlike most humans.  Humans quite often expect things of you.. . how you dress, how you talk, how you present yourself… It’s not about you with humans for the most part… IT IS ABOUT YOU with animals ALWAYS.  And you show them love and they give it back…. unconditionally… no expectations… this picture, this story, brought these thought to my mind… and tonight… I’m with that lady who understands… and has even accepted me … for the most part… me… unconditionally…. … … this… a picture that speaks a thousand words…………………

Dr. Phil, No one ever tells you what happens after Cinderella or Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty end up getting married!!

I watched your show today about a physically abused woman.  What about psychological abuse even if it’s perceived as self-imposed because you are so innocent that you don’t understand that this is, what you allowed to happen?  Or did we?  Yes, men are abused also, but seriously, women are the greater of the two.

I played my flute tonight for the first time in six years.  When I was married I wasn’t allowed because it was too loud.  I was too fat, too skinny, not right hair colour.  I was bulimic because I couldn’t be perfect to the one man that was suppose to take me “Somewhere Over The Rainbow”, my favourite song to play on my flute, to listen to, and my favorite movie – The Wizard of Oz. 

What I remember was how beautiful colour was on a television when I was but little and my grandfather had one of the first colour TVs.  What I didn’t understand was the message.  The wizard was a fake.  As an adult it’s easy to understand now that that movie meant “you have to believe in yourself”, but back then it wasn’t like that.  Think about it.  I grew up with Walt.  Princesses and Princes that saved them.  I did believe.  But all in fairy tales.  Then reality sets in.

After the first sad ending relationship, another came along.  Not much better.  Othello Syndrome.  It was as if I stopped believing that I was good enough or too good.  Then I fell in love with my pets who love me unconditionally.  And then my bulimia stopped.  And tonight I picked up my flute.  My dogs loved it.  They loved me playing my favorite song – Somewhere Over The Rainbow.  I remembered how to play it.  And it wasn’t too loud for them.  And they lay down and watched me play.  They didn’t care if I was fat, ugly, grey hair, or thin, blond, and fit.  They DIDN’T care about that.  They cared that I had just, even sick, ran around with them outside and came in and played music for them.  Even the cats came out.  It was a Cinderella, and Snow White story, with no prince.  It was their life before a prince. 

No one ever tells you what happens after Cinderella or Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty end up getting married.  But my life is better in the “BEFORE” now, then the “not so happily ever after” that in my life did not exist with a man.  Except I have three beautiful children, so no regrets.

Why, may I ask, all these “princesses” loved animals and animals them back, and we who are like those princesses, never hear how they made out after they left those loyal beautiful creatures for a man?  Other than Princess Dianna.

I have to go.  My beautiful four legged friends are waiting for more music. 🙂