July 2, 2010


Farm, mid coastal California, 2010.

Yesterday and Today

Himself: Made a bunch of phone calls and will start job hunting again Tuesday.

Herself: Swam, reformatted yesterdays entry to take to read, did books at Discovery Shop, groceries, fixed dinner with G, visited with friends, walked the La Mesa Car Show, home.

Gratitude: I’ll find some today.

It’s hard to have ones hopes dashed. Even if you are the naysayer, it’s still hard. I woke up in the night crying. I’m depressed for the Geezer this morning. I care.

Sometimes all we have is hope. Sometimes the loss of hope, even momentarily, makes starting over hard. Sometimes you feel doubly old when hope vanishes. That’s when the routine carries you through….carries me through. The mundane is comforting at times like this.

Drink more water, make your calls, take your vitamin pills, walk, swim, keep on moving, read more, go to meetings, don’t stop caring, put one foot in front of the other, and don’t stop loving. I can’t isolate….tho I’d like to. Ah, reality.

Hope will creep back in. Just watch. We are such a resilient people, but I worry that our time is running out.


  1. 'Sometimes you feel doubly old when hope vanishes. That’s when the routine carries you through….carries me through. The mundane is comforting at times like this.'

    This is so true Maggie. It is always routine which carries me through the bad times. Hang on in there and hope will return. One step at a time - cliches no doubt but they are true. Hugs.

  2. My friend used to call these times OG (opportunities for growth.) My other friend invented the ackronym: FOG - you can supply the words. My thoughts are with you both.

  3. Woke up this morning thinking of you and Geezer. The good is coming, Maggie...a door will open -- so in the meantime do what needs to be done -- there IS joy in small things: your caring for one another, a beautiful sky, good friends (and new ones, too).

  4. Allow yourself some time to hurt and grieve, but not too much time.

  5. You honesty is so lovely. We have all been there but some of us much more than others. I feel helpless for you and I am sure you feel helpless for the geezer. What we wait for now is time to heal and time to gather energy for the next hill.

  6. I'm so sorry, Maggie. I just know that eventually something else will turn up, but it's painful when you're in the moment. We send you lots of aloha from Hawaii.

  7. This is my first chance to catch up with you. I'm sitting alone in a hotel room with free wi-fi. I was so hoping to read good news; the geezer had a job. I'm so sorry, I wish I could do something for you.
    Hugs, Ruthe

  8. Dear G,

    I wish I owned a business where you live.

    I would love to have you represent my company.

    With any luck better days are coming for us all.

  9. We've been there, too, lately. It is the company's great loss. It doesn't make sense that the wait was so long for nothing.
    Thoughts coming your way.

  10. With your heart so sad and heavy, routine is like waves on a rock, smoothing the edges, taking off the weight one grain at a time. Carry yourself tall. Carry your heat carefully. As we all have learnt in life, something good will happen. G. will find a job. Thinking of both of you.

  11. Gosh Mage! You sure have a lot of online friends. All I can add is "me too."


What a delight to get a note from you. Thanks for leaving one.


Peter in front of a wall sculpture. We were invited up to Peter Knego’s home to see the latest installation.   Abstract flat ...