Garage Sale And Other Stuff

I am beginning to see the bottom of the pit in the shed. I never thought that would happen. I have gone through all the fleeces and figured out which ones are coming with me. I have dug down through all the crap in the shed that is mine to deal with and I am done... at least with the shed. Now I am in a heap of a mess in the house. There's bags of fleece every where and I haven't even cleaned out the bedroom or the bathroom yet. My bedroom I have been working on the majority of it in the last few weeks. But slowly I am beginning to see that I am getting through it all... still there are heaps of things in here that will have to go.And the pile to be moved keeps getting higher and higher and higher... and more expensive. It worries me. There is far too much to be moved back to Nfld. I wish I could off load some of the stuff especially the antiques because half of them I will not get used again. They end up getting stored. There are a few of the antiques that I use but honestly there are a lot that I will not be using. So basically I will paying to haul that stuff across Canada for no real reason other than to preserve feathers that easily ruffle.

Still the garage sale was good. We sold tons of stuff and the things that went fastest were the furniture items.  All that's left of that stuff are a few shelves and a bureau and an old desk... the rest is kitchen stuff which never sells and a games table, an electric organ, skis,  skates, books, and some tooly kind of gadgets. For all intents and purposes we have gotten rid of a lot of stuff. Still I really wish that we could have gotten rid of more. But then Sir Arsewipe will have to get rid of it and honestly I am thinking that that's his problem.

I made a good bit of money... almost enough for a utility trailer for when I get to Nova Scotia. And Why do I want to do this?? I am hoping that I can buy a utility trailer when I get to Nova Scotia since I will need to haul stuff with me as I refuse to buy a van (hate vans). Instead I will probably buy a little SUV that seats five and then the dogs will go in the back of my vehicle and our luggage will go into the utility trailer. Then when I get to Nfld I can use the utility trailer for hauling our camping gear, the canoe, and the kayak. I have decided that just because I don't have a man in my life doesn't mean that I have to give up my life. No way Jose! So I will for all intents and purposes be glad of the few dollars I am making from this sale, since it will mean the difference between camping and canoeing or not.

Michael continues to be hateful and hurtful but I suppose I cannot expect him to be something he is not. He tries to hide his hurtfulness but in the end he is. Both girls get hurt by him regularly since he is as unreliable with them as he was to me when we were married. (Yes I realize we are still married but I don't think of us as married in the same sense.) He also says things that show he is the most insensitive scumball that ever walked. Daughter #2 told me he said something pretty insensitive on Facebook that hurt her and she had a bit of a texting war with him afterwards. But although I was so torn up a few days ago about leaving this life which for so long I thought was so good and true and real, I am beginning to realize that no it is not... he is not a family man... he is a single man with his nether regions foremost in his mind.

So I have two days left in this house. Wow... I am floored by how quickly a few days pass and suddenly you are faced with getting out... fast. There is not a lot left to do... but there is a lot left to do... if you get my drift.

Today is overcast and there is a lot of stuff out on the deck that shouldn't be caught in rain but it will have to stay there until we are ready to get it out of there. I once again have friends coming to help me with this pile of crap that I am trying to offload. And offload it I will. So.. it is now 7:30 a.m. and I had a decent night of sleep though I once again woke at 4 a.m. But I think my body is starting to get used to this brutal schedule. As long as I get 5 or 6 hours of sleep I seem to be emotionally in control... I do however, enjoy telling Sir Arsewipe to screw off... (only sometimes I tend to use worse language). It is funny how our relationship just keeps going down hill. But then what else do you expect when your husband has been cheating on you for so long and so absolutely and he seems to think that it was alright... ok... normal... and that it was my fault. Weird! What an a-hole.

Anyway, before this goes any further into a name calling fest I will head off and get some work done.

Onward and upward.

The Perfect Day

The above painting is called the perfect day. I'm not sure what my perfect day would look like. Once I would have known. I would have said that it involved spending time with Teapot (currently known as Sir Arsewipe)... it would have involved drinking tea made in a teapot over an open fire in the bush... or maybe a paddle on the river.... But now that is certainly not what I would want as a perfect day.  What would be the point? We barely talk to each other anymore and generally when we do I am either pissing him off or he is pissing me off, so spending a day with him would be far from perfect. My perfect day would certainly involve relaxing, if I could just turn off my brain for a little while. I would love to have time for a sit in the sun on a beach. Maybe walking along the sand or through the rolling surf... maybe even making a sand castle. This is a part of my life that I have denied since meeting Sir Arsewipe.  He has never been one to encourage beachy activities and honestly we haven't had the time or the inclination, mostly due to the fact that we had other priorities. I think there is a me that has long been buried under responsibility and obligations. Since moving to this community, I have given up so much of my time to volunteer activities and while at first that was o.k. I am realizing how much of my life was taken away not only with my volunteer activities but also with Sir Arsewipe's activities too. I mean if you volunteer at the same things then it seems to be ok... but if you volunteer at different organizations then you don't see each other very often.

I have spent this last night reflecting on that.  Sir Arsewipe's interests have taken him far from me... while I used to think that this wee town was a good place to live, I am realizing that as the volunteer capital of the world, really it has taken away every opportunity we ever had at becoming closer. Sir Arsewipe and I have been traveling along different paths for a while. After we moved here he took up curling and while I like to watch curling sometimes, I really can't be bothered to curl. I took up the church and while I was very involved with that Sir Arsewipe resented pancake breakfasts and potluck dinners and all the time that it took each week for me to prep for services and write sermons. Sir Arsewipe got involved with the Rangers and Junior Rangers and while I tried the last for a while... quite honestly it bored me to tears. In addition, while I think it is an awesome program, I hate working with youth (unless they are my own youth... I quite enjoy that). I was heavily involved with the spinners and weavers and that bored Sir Arsewipe to tears. So really we have been moving in opposite directions for a while. Especially since he has gotten involved with..... oh yeah I can't mention that yet.  While he likes hunting I got turned off that when I went hunting a few years ago and missed my target slightly but winged a deer. If you wing a deer and don't get a direct hit it feels pretty awful. It left me reeling to see the hurt I caused that animal and know that I didn't kill it. For days I searched the forest looking for the body of that deer and never did find it. It truly turned me off from hunting... as a matter of a fact I haven't picked up a gun since. Also, I like to build things he hates it. He likes to go to bed at three a.m. and get up late in the morning... I like to go to bed at ten and get up at five... these don't make for a happy relationship. While I thought we were big enough to get around these problems and I thought we had gotten around them and respected each other's interests and habits, I realize now that they did nothing to add to our "love". (I'm not sure I would call it that since he seems to feel that he never loved me).  Our differences go on and on and on... that's not to say that we didn't have likes that were similar... if we hadn't I'm sure we would never have lasted as long as we have.  But our differences abound. For one thing, I am is a nurturer... Sir Arsewipe resoundingly is not... he tends to think of himself first... even with all his volunteer activities. He has never done a blessed thing with the financial end of our marriage other than bring home the paycheck and do the taxes at the end of the year.

With all of the time I have had this summer I have spent a great deal of time reflecting on the many differences between us and there are many. Sir Arsewipe sees himself as a martyr. when he does things he does them because he sees himself as a generous and giving guy and while that is the outward appearance I have realized that generosity is not the same as obligation. he also does these things because he feels he should. And that is not free giving. I mean he married me out of obligation because he felt he shouldn't tell me that he wasn't happy since I had broken up with a guy so that I could go out with him. (It's complicated.) When all he did in his misguided martyrdom was hurt and ruin my chances for a good life. I was devoted to him... but well I'm pretty sure he was not devoted to me.

Anyway enough about Sir Arswipe.  He takes up way too much of my time and thoughtful energy.

Getting back to my perfect day.... My perfect day would be to spend it at the beach... not necessarily swimming (I'd swim if it weren't too cold)... just wading and walking and staring at the waves with a little bit of wool and maybe a spindle to make cotton yarn (you can't use wool at the beach that would be sacrilege) and I might bring along a good book... but something light like a mystery or a romance, you don't want a heavy book at the beach. I would like to have a picnic of plain chips and orange crush and some mini cucumbers with cheddar cheese and sliced turkey on the side with nanaimo bar for desert. I would sit there and stare at the waves or take the dogs walking along the shore dabbling my feet in the water and maybe throw sticks for the dogs to fetch and then do a little beach combing and check out the shells and hermit crabs in the tidal pools and maybe climb around some of the cliffs looking for sea urchins. Then as the hot summer sun was setting I would pack up my chair and towel and picnic stuff, my book and spindle and I would head back to my car as the sun sank beneath the horizon. I would head home to a nice supper and a warm shower to wash off all the sand and then I would get ready for bed with the windows open to the cool night breeze off the ocean.

Could there be any other better day? Maybe if I could share it with someone of like mind and we could walk back to the car holding hands after a very satisfying and relaxing day.

The Darkest Part Of Night Is Just Before The Dawn

Every day I look around me and I see a little more of my life packed away in boxes. Everyday I see a little more of Sir Arsewipe's life packed away in boxes. It gets harder and harder instead of easier and easier. We are down to the last four days in this house that I have shared with my husband and children. We bought it from a couple who got a divorce and the people who are buying it from us are getting it from a couple on the brink of divorce. I wonder if there is something significant in that.

It is the middle of the night and somewhere at the end of our property there is a coyote shrieking. I have wondered when their autumn carols would begin. I knew it couldn't be long. Somewhere around the end of August when their latest batch of pups have matured, they take them out of their dens and they do a nightly shriek fest and this goes on for usually and few months until the cold winter nights come.  Always when I hear them I think of my alpacas and the sheep that used to reside here and I would worry that some night the coyotes would get in their pens, but I will not have to worry about that any longer.

As we draw closer to the day when I will leave this house I am finding that I am feeling more and more fragile. I think that as long as I was living in this house I could fool myself into believing that things hadn't changed so much. But more and more I am finding that I cry in the night thinking about my life and how much I miss my husband and how much I want things to be the way they were when I thought he loved me and the girls. I miss the intimacy of sharing your life with a loved one. I miss having someone who cared about me. What I'm having trouble with is remembering that he has never loved me and he has never really cared if I am to believe what he has written. When I think about those harsh words, when I think about the love letters he has written to her, when I think about the awful things he has said about me and my mom and dad, then I just want to shrivel up inside and disappear. I can't tell you how mixed up, stupid, twisted you feel to love and hate a person at the same time. Sometimes I feel like I am going to explode with all this jumble of feelings and I just want to feel nothing for a little while... nothing.... not a darn blessed thing. Pure oblivion would be such a relief right now, and the sad thing is... no one can take this away from me and help me. Only me, only I can fix this...

I think that leaving this town and I think that leaving him behind will be a good thing. I found that distance when he was in Vernon helped a lot. Perhaps that kind of distance will help me some again. And I wonder how long it will be before I am able to get through a day when I don't cry... when this broken heart of mine will mend some.... if it will ever mend.... and I beg God to help mend it. But somehow I doubt it. That man has broken me... has broken me. I am realizing that the reprieve of the last month was only surface deep and that this hurt reaches down into the very pit of me where people can't see it. I get up each day and plaster a smile on my face and when people ask me how I am doing I say, "I am doing ok... I have had bad times but I am starting to feel better about it all." It is not true I think... I feel like my life is an out of control roller coaster careening down a track and I don't know when or where it is going to stop and Sir Arsewipe is the engine dragging us all after him. I am trying to let go of that engine but for some reason the coupling won't let go... malfunction.  That's me one great big flipping malfunction. And still that smile is plastered on my face when all the while inside I am hollow. That heart of mine that shattered outside the kitchen door and spread across the deck and ground, is now a million pieces covered in sawdust and soon will be swept over the end of the deck to be rained on and snowed on and walked on... I feel like I have one of those plastic hearts inside of me that is meant to keep my body functioning until a heart transplant can be found. But what is the likelihood of that. Anyone got an extra heart?

Doesn't look much like you can use this for love.

Again tonight I woke in the wee small hours... half past two my eyes popped open and I tossed and turned for an hour before I finally got up. I wonder how long a person can function on two or three hours of sleep each night. I am so tired and want so much to lay down this heavy burden I am carrying. But instead I will go downstairs and work... there are several boxes that need repacking because they are far too heavy to be healthy to pick up.

I've always heard that the darkest part of night is just before the dawn. I don't know about that but it feels pretty dark right about now. Certainly to God there will be some light soon?

Shore Birds... Or Sure Birds.

I don't know if I'm a Shore Bird... but I'm certainly a sure bird.

Each day passes in a flurry of activity now. Yesterday was spent moving all my junk from the log house to my mother's and father's house and moving the furniture that they want sold, back out to mine. As of Monday there will be a grand and glorious sale here at Nicholsville West. And hopefully next week if all goes well then I can get the movers to come and take our stuff away from the house in town. Either way, everything has to be out of this house by Thursday. Then I will spend Friday morning here cleaning the toilets, counters, showers, shelves and pantries and last but not least, I will mop my way out the door. Then I will drive to mom's and dad's and that will be that. Ten years of our marriage will be done and over with. I will be sad but no doubt Sir Arsewipe will be over the moon. It will be done, finito for the log house. From that point forward the girls and I will be living at my parents house until we leave. I wish I could have gotten the train tickets earlier but that wasn't to be. The earliest date I could get them, when I booked, was leaving on the night of the 10th. And so our last week here will be a flurry of getting mom's and dad's place cleared out and packing and buying suitcases (more on that in a minute) and saying goodbyes to friends and special places. Somewhere in there I have to get Narmie back to the vet so that I can get his booster shot and I have to go to FSJ looking for a kennel big enough for Jiggs and I have to buy luggage.

The train is beginning to be a priority for us. We have a friend driving us to Edmonton, that is... Mom, Dad, and me, while Sir Arsewipe will be taking the girls and the dogs and our luggage with him in his truck. It is getting down to the wire.

Yesterday while at mom's and dad's house we were discussing luggage. The train will allow us five pieces of luggage each. We are allowed a small piece of carry on luggage which will hold our clothing and towel, shampoo, and toothbrush etc... and anything that we want to do while on the train. We are also allowed 4 pieces of luggage to check into the cargo bay. They must not exceed 48 inches in all directions combined. So that means that the length, width, and heighth must add up to no more than 48 inches. These are not big bags. That means that I have to be very particular in what I choose to bring with me. I have to pick a suitcase that can take my wheel. I have to choose a suitcase that can carry my rigid heddle loom. Then I have to fit the majority of my clothing into the rest of my luggage.  So luggage has become the next big issue. I have to buy some because right now we have huge duffle bags that Sir Arsewipe and Daughter #1 used for JCR events, certainly not useable for a train. Today I finished packing the deck stuff and I decided to take the chimes... I figured Sir Arsewipe might get a set at his next wedding... heck if I'm in the right frame of mind I might buy them and give them to him as a wedding gift.... but if I do I'll be sure to buy the most jangling horrible set I can find.

(At one point in his discussions with his girlfriend they talk about their next wedding... you can hear it weighted with anticipation and hope,... she say, "I'm wearing white at my next wedding." He says, you look really hot in black. What did you wear at your first?" She says, I wore my friend's dress. White. I can't wear black at my wedding... " He says,  "In Korea white is a funeral colour..." She says, "I'm not in Korea... I doubt if I'll get married ever again anyway." Then it gets disgusting after that.)

Anyway, today I have to take a few more loads of stuff to mom's and dad's place before Sir Arsewipe shows up and wants the truck. He moves his stuff to his new digs tomorrow and I expect that I won't have the truck again for a few days. So I had better be off... there's furniture awaiting to be taken to my parents place. In the meantime, the girls and I are now getting closer to what's represented in the below photo... and we are all looking forward to it.

Nfld.... Here I Go

I have exactly one week left in my little log home. When I think about that I want to freak out completely. I am beginning to get panicky about all that is left to do... meanwhile I am trying to scrounge up enough money to move our stuff to Nfld... That financial hit that I took earlier in the week is really causing problems. Then on top of it all Sir Arsewipe decided that he was going to look into buying out my half of the house that mom and dad live in. Off he went to the bank yesterday to look at how the financing was going to go. So when he got back I asked him how it went and he talks to me like I am the bitch supreme. I am so sick of this. I asked to speak with him in the upstairs so that the Daughters wouldn't hear what we had to say and after I explained to him that we were trying to run two houses on one income and that he was throwing me and the girls to the dogs I asked him if he realized exactly what he was doing... no remorse whatsoever in that face and then stupid here asked him how he was able to live with himself... off went the fireworks!! Suffice it to say that the feelings right now are as overwhelming as they can possible be.... and not in a good sense. I know he hates my guts and I am as close to hating that f--ker too. (Sorry in-laws.)  I really don't know how he can live with himself. He just doesn't give two figs as long as he has got the chit. I was reading through his disgusting love letters and found where he was talking about going camping and how they were best friends and everything was going to be fine and that was back while I was at the Blueberry. He left my girls at home sleeping in bed and took off early one morning while I was away so that he could make breakfast for her and be together while they ate. That b--ch has him so wrapped around her finger that he doesn't even care about the girls. The Daughters are not stupid... they don't talk about it much but they know that he is blowing them off. Why is he doing this?  I just can't figure out how a person can blow off the people who love him the most. Just like that we are no longer important to him. I have been wishing really horrible things and so I went to the shed for an hour to do some physical labour in order to work off some of my anger... but it didn't help.

So I will focus on something else instead. Here are some pics of my house... the one that I am now officially buying. I finally feel like I can post some pics...

My Square box house!

The view from my deck. Gotta love that!

My nearest neighbour...

The back and the entryway to the house with the deck on the far side.

Foyer

 

Living room through the french doors.

Living room from the other direction.

Dining room

Obviously this is the kitchen.

Upstairs landing...

Master Bedroom

Second Bedroom

Third Bedroom

So that's it folks... this will be my new house if all things go right.....

I need to get away from here in the worst kind of a way. So I can't think of a better home to have in a better place.

Fabio... Huh???

A few days ago I blogged about drowning in pet issues and what to do with them. A good friend left a comment... (see two days ago if you want to see it). She said that she would send Fabio to save me...

You have to understand before I go any further that pop culture is kind of Huh??? to me. That is because I don't watch TV as a rule and so I have become a pop culture nerd. So when my friend left the comment about Fabio I wasn't really sure what the heck she was talking about.  Tonight I sat down here at this computer and I really needed a pick-me-up since once again Sir Arsewipe is rearing his ugly head (which is most of the time these days) and I ended up in a snot fest at my mother's and father's place as I tried to get under control the emotional roller coaster that he puts me on daily now. Suffice it to say we had another fight because we tried to talk about something other than the girls. Once again I was told that I am trying to get my own way and that I am jumping to conclusions with no basis. Nice! I kicked him out of my room which is where we were talking. He is now gone to his trailer via bicycle and probably is getting his ruffed feathers smoothed by his one and only since I think I saw her car headed that way as I came home from the parents house. Lovely.

Anyway... I digress... where were we... oh yeah. Fabio. When I read her comment I thought, what the heck is a Fabio. But I never really had time to look at it longer than that... tonight when I got back I turned on the computer to check my email and since my email is a Gmail email I decided to have a look at the stat counter on my blog. So I went in and noticed that there was someone checking out the comment that my friend left. So I went in and I remembered that I had been going to Google Fabio.

Shizam!!!! Boy am I glad I checked out Fabio...

Hoooottttttttttie!!!!

Fragile

Sometimes I feel like the most unbreakable piece of granite. At other times, I feel like something you would find in a jewelry store... something very precious that is easily broken.... a crystal butterfly that could smash into a million tiny pieces at a moments notice. At those moments I know that it is time to put my head down and get some rest. These sleepless nights that I have been experiencing, I know are due to the fact that I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. There are many things that have to be dealt with in my life at the moment. I am selling my house and trying to sell (or at least rent) my parents house. I am buying a house in Nfld sight unseen. I am trying to buy a car, and in the midst of all of this, I am trying to go through a divorce. Any one or two of these things would be enough to shatter a normal person. But all five at the same time while trying to keep a relatively normal lifestyle for the daughters and help my parents maintain some equilibrium, is starting to take its toll.  At times I feel the rush of tears at the back of my eyes and it comes at the oddest moments. I might be putting a load of washing in the washer or I might be ordering a cup of coffee from a waitress... and suddenly there is a familiar pinprick at the back of my eyes and I have to force myself to think of the beach in Nfld... or I have to think of Daughter #1's facebook profile picture in order to hold the tears at bay. When they are pushed back, then I can go on.

Each night now I try to be in bed by about 9:30 p.m. so that I can catch a few extra minutes of exhausted sleep since my inner clock seems to have decided that I am not going to sleep past 3 a.m.  regardless of what time I go to sleep.  Sleep is a precious commodity since it is the only thing standing between me and complete collapse. I am tired. Tired to my bones. Tired to the synapses that continue to go on in my brain regardless of me wanting them to stop for just a few precious moments. From three in the morning till around 6 a.m. I lie awake ruminating on all the events of the previous day, or shredding apart my feelings for Sir Arsewipe.

Yesterday was once again a day of revelations about him and my life with him. We left here yesterday morning and headed down to DC to meet with the notary there who is handling our side of the sale of our house. Yes the legal forms are all signed and so I expect that on the 31st everything will go through as planned and I will vacate this home of mine that I for so many years said, "it would take a bomb to get me to move out." Well the bomb came in the form of Sir Arsewipe. I sat in the office of  the notary and waited for the ending of a way of life and then when it was all over I walked out of that office into the harsh northern sunlight a walked across the street to the truck as my husband walked a mare few feet away from me. Not a word passed between us as we got into the truck and in the back of my mind I wondered how in the world he could face himself each morning in the mirror knowing that he had ripped apart his family and told the person that loved him the most that she was not good enough. I wondered how he could look at the Daughters knowing that he had ripped their world open and screwed us all over. This house which he so greatly resents, this house which I have tried so hard to make a home, was the biggest and best thing between us and financial disaster. It was our biggest investment and the thing which would give us the biggest return on our money and we had just signed it away without a backward look.  I just couldn't fathom how easily it had all happened.

We had spent the two hours going to DC barely exchanging a word. I had nothing to say to him and so I tried to catch a few winks of sleep which I think I did but you know how car sleep is.... sometimes it is not very deep and you know everything that is going on really anyway. After DC it was the same thing... and though I didn't sleep there was barely a word between us as the trees and scenery passed by outside. It kept going through my mind... how can you look yourself in the mirror each morning.... how can you live with yourself. Knowing that didn't change the fact that I knew the worst of the day was yet to come.

I had him drop me off at the Arts Post in FSJ so that I could meet with my spinners and weavers friends and go for lunch with them. I don't know what he did... but my friends took me out for lunch where we chatted and gabbed and I got to see some of the ladies who I haven't seen in a long time... one who has been fighting cancer for many months and is looking so good (I'm happy to say) and I was so glad to see her. But all the while that I was being enfolded into the arms of my friends I held in the back of my mind this little part of me which was thinking about a face in a mirror and the white mustache and the balding head and the hollow eyes. I was thinking of Sir Arsewipe looking at himself in the mirror and I wondered what he saw.

After lunch was over I headed to the Fairways Divorce offices and got there a few minutes after 1 p.m. which is when our meeting was supposed to be held. I walked into a board room where he was sitting and once again looked at that face and all I saw was the mask.   I know that somewhere deep down there has to be some feeling but I am no longer privy to what he thinks or does and so his face remains impenetrable.

During our negotiations, I stupidly agreed to a couple of things that means the bulk of the debt is being paid out of my portion of the assets. But I will address that in our next meeting because the bulk of the negotiations is yet to come. I had to cash in one of our RRSPs after the negotiations for the afternoon were over. That was ok since it means that there will be one less debt since we will use the money from the RRSP to get rid of a jointly held credit card. That is how it goes... Divorce does not mean that you split everything 50/50 it is a back and forth so that our individual net worths come out in pretty good shape. But then no one ever wins in a divorce. Dividing everything and deciding who gets what is a horrible job and as is the case no one ever wins except the lawyers.

We came home in the truck and I have discovered that the only thing that we are able to talk about any more are the girls. They are our common ground now... We can speak about them without it deteriorating into a bitch/butch fest. About halfway home I felt a serious case of fidgets coming on and so I asked if he would pull over and let me do some driving. He was ok with that and so we switched places. It felt good to be behind the wheel and I felt a surge of independence that I haven't felt since before we were married. It felt good and I felt the corners of my mouth starting to relax and just slightly go up.

With this little tiny bit of positivity in me, I felt that I had an opportunity to talk to him a little bit about something that I can't mention here yet, but it needed to be talked about since it was giving Daughter #1 some sleepless nights. So I broached the topic cautiously. There was a few moments of discussion before I backed off and felt I had dealt with it at least some. After I got home I sat down for a few minutes and realized that Sir Arsewipe was out on the deck with Daughter #1 now discussing what we had only moments before talked about in the truck... it was ok because they needed to get it sorted. Afterwards he was leaving and Daughter #1 came in with tears in her eyes and I wasn't really surprised about that since it was a fairly touchy topic. I asked her if she was alright and gave her a big hug and that's when it all came pouring out. She really doesn't believe a word he says. I wish I could talk about it more but I can't... but suffice it to say that it was based on that discussion of what he had said to her that I realized why Sir Arsewipe can look at himself in the mirror each day. It was in that moment that I realized that the man that I married is a Peter Pan...

You see my very great understanding came when I realized that he doesn't think that he has done anything wrong.  He thinks that he is completely in the right.  He sees his relationship with the other woman as just friends.  He sees himself as embarking on a way of getting rid of an overbearing and controlling woman (me).  He sees me as the fault for all of our problems and he sees our house as not the investment into our future that I understood it to be but as a noose around his neck. That is when it hit me that he is 49 years of age going on 20 years of age. That jackass got to the age of twenty and never moved beyond. When he looks in the mirror he sees someone shackled to responsibility and when he is finished dumping me and the girls and my parents he will be free of that responsibility... he will be free to pursue his own interests again.

So you see I have lain awake tonight a mulled it all over in my head and I am tired of being mother to this man child. I am tired of my responsibility for him. He was supposed to be my partner but instead I became the Wendy to his PeterPan.  It is one more responsibility that I do not need. It is one more burden that is make me quake under the weight of it. It is one of the things that is makig me so very tired, and fragile.

But when I look into the mirror what do I see? I see a woman who is tired and alone in this world with nowhere to turn and nowhere to rest. I just keep plodding along in the hopes that at some point I will be able to shed a little of this burden that I am under.  And the first step will be to see if I can get our stuff moved, because that is one of the dastardly things that I have had to pony up on in our negotiations. Debts paid means that I have less to money to get us home... basically to get me through this divorce I have had to give up the amount of money that I would have used for the movers... and so I am left scrabbling and trying to find a way to move our stuff across Canada.... unless I sell Mom's and Dad's place.

It is 5:41 a.m. and I have been awake since 3 a.m.  I am tired and so I am going back to bed to try and get a couple of more hours of sleep before the sun comes up. (It's raining out and so I expect that the sun might not be out today.) I will call Narmie up on the bed in the hopes that he will cuddle up to my back as he sometimes does and I will drift off into a peaceful and deep sleep that I so greatly need to keep my equilibrium.... and if not... then the next couple of hours will be devoted to a little of this....