kvetching up

Entry 1 "Part of surviving smear campaigns, part of it is knowing what it looks like. .  . The narcissistic person will have no problems telling bold-faced lies about you. It's like a gaslight. . . but you will be gaslighted by a massive group of people who will come up to you and say, "Whoa, he told me what you did, that wasn't cool."                                                  - Dr. Ramani Ursuvala Last week I had to get on Jenny's mac to find an old tax return to submit for the request for Abby's FAFSA. I knew that screen captures with relevant passwords from Jenny's phone were on the laptop. I just had to read through the jpgs to find them. I need to spend a day with the laptop and  remove all the material on there not related to Jenny's affair and the programmatic disinformation she spread to people about me. This will...

Entry 1  5:50 a.m.   A movable crop. When a dog looks you in the eye and punches you with her paw, well, it's just the best. Sunday mornings are my favorite time. I get nostalgic. Today I am remembering driving around in the ridiculous convertible Camaro in California last Spring with the girls, going to In-and-Out burger, driving with Abby to Balboa Park and down to the Drive-In 10 minutes from the border with Mexico. Abby had a good time, in spite of being stuck with her dad, and I certainly made memories to last through my last days, or dementia, whichever comes first. I am intending to do some yard work this morning. Last night Abby and I schlepped the bucket with the mammoth sunflowers in it over to the fence. This allows the giant flowers a place to lean. The planter, a large red bucket, can't hold the top heavy plants without listing, nor without falling over in a brisk wind. The stakes I planted in the dirt when the sunflowers were half this size have been outgrown, an...

Entry 1 Saturday morning it is. Abby and I have two more Saturdays, this one included, before Holyoke. I am blue this early morning, for a bevy of reasons,  none controlling. The soft trumpet on Brubeck's Take Five sounds melancholy, but I'm sure my ears are just distorted by my mood. Flu shots today, clothes shopping for Abby. I may go to Dick's Sporting Goods and get the spin bike that Amazon was supposed to deliver on Thursday, but balked. I'm going to go buy some small concrete bricks to border a portion of the yard where berry plants have been planted. Other things are on the too list and I hope to tackle them all. When I grew up in our 800 square foot home, most of the time I lived in the bedroom above the garage, which was tiny, had a closet with  painted plywood walls, Parquet floors and wolf spiders. Abby has an 1100 square foot apartment, with a bath, bedroom, living room with a built-in surround sound system and video projector, a kitchen with a full-sized re...