clickmom

avoiding

I'm pretty sure there is a story I wanted to share about walking sweet pea along with the dog who walks himself (irresponsible owners who live across the street from the woods and let the dog roam free) but I can't for the life of me recall what the story was.  Even though whatever it is I wanted to share just happened to me.

I really started going back to the woods, which feels freaking fantastic. I avoid my old walking buddies because they don't wear masks (one is a dental hygienist, so I feel like its just a matter of time before she gets hit with the virus) so I was actually happy to see the dog who walks himself. It's so much better for sweet pea to have someone to pal around with. They really do pay attention to what the other one is doing. Together they cornered a groundhog the other day and it was quite the ruckus when the dog who walks himself shook it to death. I knew it was finally dead when I couldn't hear the ground hog screaming over my unheeded commands to drop it. (In my defense, it's not my dog, sweet pea dropped a chipmunk once on command, and I was pretty much the one who taught the dog to sit) Thankfully once the ground hog stopped moving the dog who walks himself did put it down and walk away without tearing into it, so at least there was no blood involved. 

Now that I am parking on the street where the dog who walks himself lives, I enter the park/woods on the opposite side from where I typically enter. I am not far, from the outermost path around the grounds, which is where I like to go anyway because less people make the effort to go there, it's hilly, which means down and up and also you have to cross a small stream to get there and folks do not like their dogs getting wet. So, I've been heading straight towards the less populated area and on the fringe of the woods, across the stream, is a small little section of park that had a ton of beech trees. Beech trees are the smooth gray trees people favor for carving their names into. I noticed that the leaves of these trees were doing strange things.  They have dark stripes between the veins, are sometimes very thick and dark looking or curled up and browning. It's quite remarkable, how discomforting the woods feels over where the trees look strange. I asked a friend to check it out and she told me that there is some kind of unknown pathogen attacking beech trees and because the origin of the pathogen is unknown there isn't anything we know to do to help the trees. You guys, the trees have their own version of corona. I can not believe I left for a few months and came back to a tree plague.

Guess what I am going to try to photograph for the rest of the summer! Yup, the last breaths of the beech trees. I am pretty sad about this. I loved looking those trees, especially in the winter because they'd keep a lot of their leaves and the leaves would be a light tan color. They were so pretty. I wish I photographed them more. We might not have them around if this thing has its way with all of them. There is a chance that some trees will be immune to the pathogen, so that is what I am holding out hope for. 

In the mean while, we continue to hide, minus walking sweet pea, and I am so very conflicted about walking sweet pea. I mean, I don't wanna die yet so I don't wanna know how bad corona is. I feel no need to be a survivor, I'd rather be a dodger. I am very concerned about the long term effects of this virus, and want no part of it at all.  I am also so worried that Josh's school might try to do something on campus in the fall and that will not be acceptable to me. I already told him that there isn't a chance in hell it will be safe for students to return to campus in the fall and that I won't send him. Especially if there are life long consequences to having lived through this virus. No 19 year old deserves to have neurological damage or vascular problems for the rest of their lives when it could have been avoided in the first place. This is a no brainer. 

really really

That solstice experiment I did totally messed me up.  For days I walked around thinking how intense it was, I kept using the word grueling- both physically and psychologically.  I keep going back to the photos. I have to squint and stare and flip back and forth over and over again to spot the birds. Sometimes I am sure there are not birds, and then I will spot one in a the middle of what seems like a vacant sequence and I go back to discover there is a tiny little bird barely showing itself among the branches. I'm kind of amazed that I actually saw some of them to begin with. I am spending a ton of time imagining how I will package and show this  work. I am imagining a long large accordion book that would come with a smaller "key" book.  The "key" book would essentially be a miniature version of the larger book and on each page there would be a mark where the bird is. I am imagining a red circle. Also, If I can find someone (more knowledgeable than myself) to help me, I would like to note what type of bird it is because there is a nice variety up there visiting the tree. I might have to include a magnifying glass with my book.  It could be a ton of fun for the right audience but I do want this to be taken seriously as a work of art. I think that tomorrow I will spend more time trying to discover the birds on the frames where I haven't found them yet and then I will start creating the pages from which I will make the book.  I'm excited. I'm actually really really excited. 

Today I worked out an artist statement and chose 10 images from my ongoing quarantine series to enter into a contest. (Or, rather, a few contests this month, possibly more next month.) I am excited to get my work out there. I have another project I am pondering. This one would involve me hanging out the car window taking photos as Josh drives me around. Technically it might be my best bet at ever even attempting this project which I have been tossing around in my imagination for years. I need a driver to accomplish it. I think I'll talk to Josh about starting it next week. Hahaha  Because he is pretty much captive here and he can't hide from me! I'm really really excited. 

longest day

So, I had this brilliant idea that for the summer solstice I would sit in my own backyard in one spot with my camera on a tripod aimed at one dead (and therefore leafless- or at least sparsely leafed) tree and photograph every bird which landed on it from dawn to dusk. So, I just went with that. I did consider sitting somewhere where I could get a decent view of more than one tree and figured out a spot where I could potentially gaze upon 4 different of the dead/dead-ish trees (yes, I know I might want to get a tree guy in here to do some limb removal) but then I realized that I couldn't actually see all 3 or four at the same time and that I would surely miss out on some good action of some trees while watching other trees. In the end I chose a single tree to watch.  

The truth is that I mostly go outside with sweet pea when I think there will be plenty of birds flying around (early AM and early evening)  so I didn't really know which tree was most visited to photograph I couldn't possibly watch all three (or four) at the same time, so I never will know, now, will I? I mean, I suppose I could put 4 separate motion activated cameras outside for multiple days and scientifically get a handle which dead branches are more alluring to the birds, but this is about art not science, so I chose the tree that isn't 100% dead and still has strange Dr. Suess like clumps of leaves dotting it because it's the prettiest.  Think about the trees from The Lorax and then imagine the mostly dead tree I photographed looking like a field of scattered truffle trees. Lots of trunks with little lollipop balls of leaves on top.

What I hoped for: not that hot or sunny with occasional puffy clouds floating by for a nice variety of changing backgrounds behind the tree. What I got: Searing 100% sunshine and blustery winds, especially high in the trees and some light filmy clouds moving through, so at least that part happened. I knew I would probably want to sit under an umbrella for part of the day, and I did but what I didn't know was that rain umbrellas don't really block the sun. It's ok because even though I was pretty pink that night, it turned to tan right away. I did have to ask Josh to bring a sheet that I could throw over my lap and feet because the tops of my feet were sizzling. They too were pink that night but quickly got over it. 

I knew it would be a long day but I didn't realize how psychologically grueling it would be to stay (I can't claim I sat the whole time, I got restless and marched and danced in place behind the camera with the remote trigger in my hand- eyes glued on the spot)  Folks, I did that for 15 hours and it was so traumatic, trying, HARD that I needed a day to recover! I can't even imagine solitary confinement. I knew from the get go how many hours I would have to sit there, so it was really hard when I was only 3 or 4 or 6 hours in. It felt better once I was counting down 4,3,2,1, and then of course minutes.

I felt so profoundly alone out there, even though sweet pea stayed with me nearly the entire time. She pressed herself again or right underneath my chair to be in the shade from the umbrella too. I had to ask the husband or Josh to being her inside to cool down a couple of times when I thought she was panting too hard. I reflexively wanted to pick up my phone about a thousand times, but then I had to remind myself to keep my eyes on the tree. Not everyone understood when I told them I couldn't text for the day. I got a lot of texts which the phone read aloud to me and I answered with dictation that I did not double check. I should probably see what weird texts I actually sent. I did have a nice chat with quite a few friends and that really helped to pass the time and soothe the isolation. I can totally talk and focus my sights on a distant tree top at the same time.

I almost immediately regretted framing the tree as tight as I did because many birds were flying right out of what I could see through the view finder. But once I started the process I couldn't stop and change the view. I had the camera on a tripod because I wanted to look at the same spot all day long. And you know what? In the end I have hundreds (over 400) of photos, so it was probably for the best. I didn't realize how tiny some of the birds are. And even the blue jays, which aren't tiny look pretty tiny on my images, which will need to be LARGE in a gallery show. I managed to get some hawk flying behind the tree, and even a super sexy black vulture slow flying right across the front of the tree. That was a fun one. It came towards the end of the day and totally lifted my spirits to hold on until sunset. Another of my favorite photos happened in the early morning when a little misty filmy cloud was in front of the tree, so there is a 3 shot sequence that has that smokey thing happening. That bird is a speck! I am actually quite impressed with myself that I saw so many tiny birds. I am in awe of my own ability to hyper focus.

I feel like I want to do a limited version of that experiment again, not on the longest day of the year. I want to know if there would have been more birds up there if it had not been so windy that day. I think so, because I notice that there aren't too many birds to see on any windy day and that tree is one of the higher trees, so it was probably worse conditions.

I am happy about the variety of birds that did stop by and have a rest on the tree. The first bird I captured was a woodpecker, a flicker, and I saw that bird a lot on the spring when it was mating and insanely chasing around the female flicker, so I felt like a visit from my pal, Flick, was a great omen with which to start the day.

Anyways, I'm still a bit shocked at how draining the experience was. I can't wait to talk about it with the woman who is helping me out with things. She is a great person to bounce things off of.

all the photos

I took sweet pea back to the woods today. 

I was so worried that I'd have to walk with my usual friends. I know they're not being my level of careful. But I did text one, then I saw another leaving as I pulled in who told me that three were still walking. SO I texted them and said I was going in the opposite direction. Then, this dog we know who lives on the dead end street beside the park's secret entrance found me and sweet pea and joined us and it was the perfect thing because I knew that sweet pea needed some dog company and this was the kind of dog she could partner up with for chasing squirrels and other dog things. Also, I love this dog, so I am totally honored when he chooses to walk with me.

Anyways, we walked for an hour and a half and I am super tired from the walking. It's a really good great fantastic, I walked a lot today tired and I was in a such a better mood for having gone back to the woods. I need to make it part of my routine again.

Tomorrow I am going to sit outside the entire day from sun up to sun down and photograph one dead tree every time a bird lands on it or flies behind it. I might even take photos when a plane flies by or an interesting cloud passes over. I'll take all the photos, then I'll decide what to do with them.

 

pile on

Some days I am just completely beat.  Totally defeated and can barely muster enough energy to get off the chair. Today is one of those days. All day I sit around and wonder if I actually slept last night. I think I slept last night, I felt like I had slept when I rolled out of bed this morning but today I have nothing to give. I needed a nap. It's pretty literal, I feel like thinking is a herculean effort. I still want to be an ostrich and stick my head in the sand until this is over. I wonder if it could be stress related. I definitely listen to too much news and none of it is uplifting these days. Even happy stories make me sad because they're always pre-plague. Or young kids contributing in some way that shouldn't have to be done by young kids. I can't take the people rushing out to restaurants or whatever they think they have absolutely got to do. Fools. Stupid ignorant dangerous fools. You really see who is selfish during this. One of my walking friends told me yesterday that she doesn't wear a mask even if she walks with a friend. Buh-bye idiot!! I wish I lived in New Zealand where they've brought the disease under control. I wonder if they'll let me come in if I agree to a quarantine first. I'd literally go with the shirt on back at this point if some safe place would have me. I just want to wake up and hear that both the press. and v press. were killed in some tragic accident. (I'm leaving the autocorrected title mistakes to avoid random google searches, sorry, I see them there)  I'd for sure have a good day after that bit of news. Maybe it's all just stress related. My allergies are through the roof this year so that doesn't help either. 

I have started stretching before bed and I think it is making a huge difference in my back pain. So, there's some good news. Maybe I will even look up some legitimate stretches instead of, or in a addition to, the ones I've made up for myself.  Though mine do really target the pieces of me I feel need the stretch the most. 

As if life wasn't too much of an effort right now, I just found out my website host is closing down. I'm so bummed. Now I have to start all over. 

playing with fire

Ive been in this strange head space lately. Maybe its because we've been in lockdown mode for so long I have begun counting it by the moth instead of week. (3 months plus) Maybe because I've dulled down to this crazy nothing place. I don't even long to walk through the woods any more. Two friends did call me today during their solitary walks through the woods. I had a nice chat with one and then during the second chat my friend screamed twice and disconnected. I had no idea what happened. I thought maybe she fell down, or off this rock bridge into the water, but she called back and told me how a dog walker's dog attacked her dog. Totally bummed me out. I want to return to a safe place, not a place where sweet pea is in danger! 

 

I've been working with a photographer who helps other photographers with their online presence (website, CV), portfolio and then with entering contests, applying for grants residencies, etc... Obviously, I will not be applying for any residencies any time soon! But she has given me some fantastic ideas about how to brush up the things I've already got and also some great guidance on an artist statement for the work I've been making during this pandemic. My birds! My branches! I want to go full steam ahead with her, but boy oh boy, am I avian to really push myself int hat department. I have no get up and no, no spunk. Part of me is wondering if maybe I did end up with the plague at some point and feeling this way is a by product of that because I don't feel like myself at all.  Then I remind myself that I haven't lived through a plague before, so I have no idea how I'd feel when living through one. 

I will tell you one thing thought, I really need to get the ball rolling on a pot card because I did some stretches while under the influence the other night and Oh My, it was the best most effective stretching I have ever experienced in my entire life. I feel like if I could do that regularly it would be life changing. Totally life changing.

If I had a crystal ball and knew that this nightmare of an administration would be over in January, along with a newly elected blue senate, I feel like my entire world would be more optimistic. But not knowing (people are crazy) is awful. I really want to lay down my map on this situation. I'd like to know two things, I'd like to know that and to be honest, I'd just like to know how long the husband has left not he earth. I mean, three years ago a hospital doctor told me that with the right medications he would have a year, possibly 2, so obviously that guy was wrong. I just want to be able to make a master plan and I do not want to start my life over with him in tow, that would be too hard and too complicated and to be honest, I'd like to go where I want to go without any regard for anyone but myself. I mean, it's been 55 years, and not a single person has ever made a decision where my needs came into play, and to be honest, I can count the times I have put my own foot down on one hand and still have spare fingers.

The first time was temporarily dropping out of school (I needed to have my first mid life crisis at the tender age of 18). The second time was going against my parent's desires and declaring myself a photography major. I'm not sure there are any more times. How pathetic. 

When I used to spend money on psychics one used to get off on telling me about my past lives. I was a young boy who got his arm caught trying to race under the gate to the castle as it lowered. That injury would kill me. I was a painter in an Italian town that started with a V and was on the water but not Venice. I was a real ladies man and never settled down but was taken care of by some kind women in the town. I was a misunderstood deaf native american girl living on my property in utopia. A child I played with drowned and that child came back as Evan. I was a farmer's wife living in total isolation with my husband and a bunch of kids and very happy and fulfilled and satisfied. None of these lives sound all that great to me. I'd rather be a raucous whore with a great body who danced every day, screwed someone new every day and died singing on the bar.  Or a revolutionary fighting for a cause. I dunno, anything not dull. So, I'd like to turn this existence around and create a new path where I find success doing the one thing I always wanted to do. That's why tomorrow when I wake up I am going to make a huge effort to change around all of the things that the woman I have hired asked me to change. She's on fire and I need some of that.

 

i can't

I find myself doing this "remember when" thing in my head a lot. I ask myself Remember when you could just walk with your friends? Remember when other people didn't scare me? Remember when I wasn't scared to breath in public? Remember when I could hug people? High five them? Touch their arm? Pat their backs?  This pandemic is really depressing me. 

I find myself thinking a lot about how safe and protected I would feel in utopia. It just makes me want to cry. But I know I would be spending my days wandering the woods up there , all safely alone, because I hardly never saw anyone (aside from that mofo with the attack akita) and I wonder a lot about the state park I had discovered the last summer. I feel like I hadn't finished exploring it. But now It's so far away. Just a memory. And it all makes me so sad, because this is the time I was going to really be there, settling in, combining my summer life with my every other month of their life. I want that future back. I really do. I'm so sad.

This morning the husband was surprisingly up about 5 hours earlier than usual, and sitting in his spot in his chair watching television when I came downstairs to go out to the backyard with sweet pea. I went outside with sweet pea and then sat down in front of the morning news with him when a story came on about summer vacations and how people are staying pretty local and renting lake houses and I looked at him and asked him not to make me listen to a story about lake houses (he holds the remote). He looked at me as if we had never had a lake house that had to be sold because he spent over 3 times the amount of money we agreed to spend on renovating it. He acted like I was having a tantrum when I literally just asked him to change the channel. I think that swallowing my hatred for him, for his disease, for his mental illness, for whatever it is that has given him ZERO empathy and ZERO guilt and ZERO ability to show respect, gratitude, support, kindness, or any other personality trait that would be nice to live with is really taking it's toll on me. I would love to express my hatred for him but if I were to do that honestly, and truly, I think it would be like breaking hoover dam and I can't even imagine that if I ever started to express this feeling that it just wouldn't explode out of me like a to burning volcano and then never stop. Ever. I am so filled with anger, resentment, and sadness that if I even opened a little pin prick of it all I feel as if it would never stop spewing out of me.

It isn't only because he ruined utopia for me and then took it away, it's also because he doesn't respect me (or any person, really) or have any gratitude for anything. Not even for me taking care of him. He never once thanked me for saving his life all of those times I forced him to go to the ER and the doctors said It's a good thing you came when you did, if you had waited any longer.... But now I feel stupid for even saving his life all of those times. Maybe he just doesn't want to live anymore. Though he did tell me yesterday that he had woken up in the middle of the night with low blood sugar and had come to the kitchen and eaten some pretzels (like almost a whole bag) to get it back up. I told him that was precisely why I got him an apple watch- so he could call me in an event like that. He said he didn't need me. I am just waiting for the day he can't get up when he takes too much insulin. I am quite sure I should maybe take over that responsibility but its the one medicine he wants to be in charge of. And you can't argue with someone who had lost all of his critical thinking skills. You just can't. 

fake it

Earlier this week I had my first only plague related dream.  In my dream I had two social things to do with Josh, two kid activities, and Josh was only maybe 9 years old. He was as tall as my breasts. In the dream I suddenly realized that he might have a fever, and struggled with acknowledging the fever or not. If I acknowledged the fever I would be morally required to take him home and quarantine him. If I made it through the activities (which seemed to important to his happiness) I could pretend that I discovered the fever afterwards, or even that it hadn't emerged until afterwards, potentially putting other people in danger but giving my own kid what he needed. I couldn't decide which call to make.

I also knew that if I cared for Josh I was putting myself in harms way, but decided to sacrifice my own health for child Josh because even though I wanted to live I didn't actually care if I died, only that I got him through this crisis. 

So, I am thinking that child Josh probably represents something other than actual Josh and I am wondering if he represents, possibly, me at that age. I dunno? I feel like part of my insane stuffing my face with food is somehow connected to my completely insanely dysfunctional childhood and either every emotional backing I never got and my attempts at self soothing. I think the big question for myself is why at the even thought of experiencing any  emotion, weak or strong, good or bad, I need to cram some unhealthy food into my face to try to feel better. Well, it does work, I mean, who hasn't numbed out after a pig out? But in the long run it causes more pain (shame for being huge), more worry (health), and poor health (which in turn causes more worry) So, Since I am no longer a child, I would like to officially think and behave like an true well adjusted adult and only eat the foods that truly nourish me instead of the foods which just drug me out.

But as this relates to the dream.... if child Josh is actually me, and I am struggling to decide if I should give myself the true happiness I need while sacrificing others or do the morally/ethically right thing and protect others but disappoint myself. I know I think in a very black and white way, just about all of the time, but I don't know how to get to that place where people believe that taking care of themselves makes them better able to take care of everyone else too. I am completely clueless as to how to change my way of thinking.

Just saying.

 I need a shrink.

I saw some full length photos of myself. It wasn't pretty. Neither were the photos.

I said SURE! to a young person who requested to that weird thing where they show up at your house and take your photo outside and at a safe distance for a charity. She took some majorly shitty photos and I am infinitely disappointed. Even if I weighed a healthy weight the photos would have still been sub par. And this chick just got a degree in photography!  I was shocked at her awful images and at how THICK every part of me currently is. My belly is a gigantic beach ball. I'm going to use her shitty photos as my before photo.

Time to pretend like I believe I have to put myself first in order to be a better person to the rest of the world. Fake it till you make it, right?

feeling kinda desperate

It has never before felt this strange for a new month to begin. It's June, I've been in hiding for 11 weeks and 3 days so far. And so far so good. Not sick. My homemade face shield must be helping. I really really want to walk sweet pea. It's the one thing I want back in my life more than anything.

I also want the Y. But I am going to cancel that membership. There isn't a chance that going to the Y will be safe for a ling long time. I'm really numb over that. In a life where every time I am coasting a big gigantic frigging hurricane comes along to just blow me over and whip me right off my feet. I was 4 weeks into becoming who I was before, a certified gym rat, I felt so good it felt so right. It felt like I was ready to rejoin the ranks and live again. 

Oh dang. Thats my problem. I'm not living. I'm waiting. Always waiting.

Waiting for the kids to grow up. Waiting for the ax to fall on the husband. Waiting for the plague to be over. Waiting for something to change so I can focus on me and me alone. It's not right. 
I find myself looking at the heavens and asking when its gonna be my turn. I find myself hearing people tell me how I need to shove my own feelings away because someone else has a need greater than mine. No man. I'm done with that. It needs to be me time. Seriously. I have to stop caring about how I am perceived , how it looks, doing the right thing (Oh lord, I say that one like a broken record) and start being about me. I do. I have to claw my way onto my own priority list. 

Except I can't go out or I might die.

Fuck.

 

 

crazy, right?

I'm trying to figure out how I can take sweet pea to the dog park and be safe. The problem is that I don't trust people have been as cautious as I have been and I really do not want to know if I would survive this pandemic. I want to emerge from this insanity as one of the few who never got infected. You know? One of my park friends has been asking, and I think I might meet him tomorrow. Sweet pea really needs to go back to her old stomping grounds. She just seems so sad lately. I mean, I am guessing I do too, so maybe it's just a reflection of how miserable I am trying not to be, but in the end, I can't wait forever to start hiking- we both really need some outdoors time. I am actually quite afraid that I've gone so soft from all this couch time that I will be in bad shape. I joked about needing physical therapy when this is over, but it was only half joking. 

I am thinking that if my walking partner and I stick to the trails that are least travelled we won't bump into too many other people. I have to think long hard about the risk of going versus the risk of sitting on my rear end for more time. My heart is pounding just thinking about leaving the house. My doctor thinks I should take some anti anxiety medication. I feel like that's a rabbit hole I don't want to go down, like ever, but somehow especially not in a crisis. I am so medicine adverse. One upside to conquering my fear of the outside world would be having more subject matter to photograph. I'd really like to photograph something other than the bird I can't hardly see anymore due to leaves filling out on all the trees. 

Also, it disgusts me to admit this , but one of the boys I was not fond of from my grad school days posted an interview he did with someone who asked him how he knew he was done with a series and he said when he started to take the same photos again and again and I think I might be there. Even though, I think there is something to say about the process of seeing and being present with the repetitive photos, I am pretty much at that point. And that point frustrates me. 

I hear there is a big market for foot porn and I would be completely good with secretly photographing people's feet for foot porn. It's a weird wild world out there and I am ready to capitalize on it. I should probably do some other research and see what other kind of photo smut is profitable. I am open for anything that doesn't involve me taking off my own clothes or violating another person in that way. (Foot photos are not a violation! Don't even think like that!!) 

OK. So, Now I have a completely unrelated confession to make. It's one of my stepford friend's birthday coming up and the other friends want to make a big deal out of it because it's her 60th. I am so bummed it is killing me not to be the biggest buzz kill ever. I want to scream Do you have any idea how miserable I am!?!?!? DO you have any idea what a victory it is for me to even get out of bed every day!?!?!?!  They bounced around the idea of a social distanced party in her yard. What??? They've decided on a formal dress zoom call. I'm supposed to have cocktails and party food on my own end for myself. What??  I'm not freaking getting dressed up. They're lucky if I put a bra on!! And then on top of everything, they decided to get her a tree or something and want us each to pitch in $50. What?!?!?!  My husband hasn't had a fucking job in almost 5 years! Every pair of pants I own is threadbare on the inner thighs.

Also, not to be a big cry baby or anything, but these women have hurt my feelings consistently for the longest time. No one worries about my birthday- I share it with another friend and her son tragically died the day before our shared birthday so I GET THAT but they could reach out to me privately.  They don't. And also, they have made exactly ONE effort to meet me half way since I moved to new town and that was almost 9 years ago. One time in 9 years they came half way to me. Every other time I've seen them I've gone back to stepford. I am not feeling any love from them. But they are all so caught up in their own lives no one would even imagine I'm sitting here feeling as bad I do. Mostly because no one freaking asks me. They get together without inviting me. I hear about it afterwards. Now, chances are excellent I wouldn't be able to show up, but an invitation would be nice. I don't get one. I don't expect them to work around my schedule or anything ridiculous like that, I would just like someone to pick up the phone and say "Hey, are you free a week from Tuesday? We want to do something."  That would literally be enough. I'd say NO but at least I'd get the invitation. I get bubkas. Story of my life, right?  They seem to have no memory that for the first 5 years I was the glue that held this group together. The husbands thought of me as the ring leader.  But, do I say anything? Of course not. I rant into the void, to a blog that no one reads. Maybe one day, long after I've gone someone will mine through this and ask "Did you read the story about that woman's blog? She blogged for 20/25/30 years even though no one ever read it. Her kids discovered it after she died when they were going through her credit card charges because she paid for it all those years. Crazy, right?" Yeah, crazy.