The way of nature and the way of grace. You don't have to choose which one you'll follow.

When the Zoom call ended, I clapped and yelled "Woo hoo!" Not missing a beat I then raced into the living room and kissed the photograph of Piper on my living room wall as emotions swelled within me. I'd waited ten and a half months for this.

********

I almost didn't get divorced this week.

Less than 24 hours before our allotted hour in court, I received word that my wife was going to delay the final hearing unless she received information about some trusts of which I am a beneficiary. She had no right to any of the money in the trusts and had been aware of this for some time. This was ridiculous and extremely frustrating.

She claimed that she was unaware of one of the trusts despite the fact that I had listed it in a filing that was sent to her and her lawyer and filed with the court last autumn. That filing also answered another of her questions. Why was she doing this? Her excuse was for "full disclosure" but the only answer I could come up with was that this was her last hurrah, her final chance to harass me and spew her contempt.

I answered the questions as best I could that night and sat by my inbox the next morning like an expectant father. An email bearing bad news appeared saying that she had asked her lawyer to file whatever it is you'd file with the court to delay the hearing. My wife's lawyer was apologetic for and incredulous of her client's behavior.

I met my neighbor outside shortly after this and chatted with him briefly. I told him that my divorce was not going as well as hoped and he said he'd pray for me. He must have done so right away because an email came shortly thereafter in favor of the efficacy of intercessory prayer: my wife had finally agreed to hold the hearing today. It was close - maybe only an hour and a half before our scheduled time.

********

The hearing began a bit late as my wife had issues logging into the call. The court representative made sure that all of the needed paperwork had been filed. That being done, our lawyers then played 20 questions with each of us. When my wife answered her questions, the video switched to her face in full screen and I noticed how much she looked like her father. She had little, if any, make-up on which was a change from the past several months that we lived together when she would apply it very liberally. With closure now within our grasps, the haggling and bickering over, she looked pretty again to me. Pretty in a way she hadn't for a few years. It was very odd how my feelings had changed on such short order.

With the questions done, the court representative said that everything was in order and pronounced us ex-husband and ex-wife. Then we all left the call.

Despite my joy and relief, I couldn't help feel sad that this was all it took. A 15-minute Zoom call to end one of the most important relationships of my life. My marriage had been reduced to a mere contract, a contract with terms about money and nothing more. It felt anti-climactic and a bit demeaning. Shouldn't there be more of a to-do?

********

Piper should have been here for this, the finalization of my divorce. My plan had been to come home from court or log off the Zoom call, hold her in my arms, and then hug & kiss her excessively before looking into her lovely feline eyes and telling her that it was over, that we had survived my now ex-wife. Liberal application of treats would have followed and dinner for her that night would have been tuna AND salmon. Or perhaps something even more fancy. Gluttony would have been the order of the evening.

But she wasn't around for the big moment so kissing her picture would just have to do.

On the one hand I was happy that my wife had become my ex-wife and that the legal process of divorce had concluded but on the other I was sad. I was sad due to Piper's absence but also because I felt like I had two decades plus of memories that no longer served a purpose. That and I didn't want them anymore.

While there are definitely memories of my time with my ex-wife that I want to keep with me to my end, the ones of my wife, especially of the last three and a half years or so can go. We organize our lives in stories and years of those memories were for her and me to tell our story to each other as well as the people in our lives as we grew old. But our story had come to an end.

I've told the stories to my friends and family, they need not be told to a lawyer any longer - not that they ever did - they've just outlived their usefulness. But I am stuck with them.

********

I thought about my dearly departed cat as I stood outside waiting for my ride. It was so lovely out with the trees soaking up the life-giving rays of the sun while I missed Piper more than words can say.

Dinner was to be steak. Next week my new ladyfriend and I are going out to The Tornado Room for a fancy meal to celebrate my divorce - she promised to buy me a steak when it was finally over - and so this was merely a practice run.

I also had a fine lager beer and a salad dressed with Thousand Island, my brother's favorite. Both he and Piper may be gone but they've never left me.

After dinner my lady and I went to visit Piper.

The park was lovely and green, although it was yet to reach its peak verdant glory. We made our way to the arch where I had scattered Piper's ashes and I fell to my knees. I touched the ground and said hello to her.

"It's over, Pipey," I told her. "We survived {ex-wife's name}. I love you, Pipe. I miss you."

She should have been alive to witness this but at least I have a place to go to be with her in spirit.

********

The next day my ladyfriend and I went out for a traditional Wisconsin Friday fish fry along with the woman who had officiated my wedding ceremony. The place was hoppin' and the staff were earning their keep. It didn't take us long to find a booth and soon we were seated with our drinks waiting on the arrival of the fried ocean goodness.

The woman had joined my ex-wife and me nearly 11 years ago. It was her hug, kiss, and words of encouragement just a week or so after I was served papers that let me know I was wanted, that life would get better. Her kindness gave me hope and set me on a better path.

None of us were angry at my ex-wife despite the ways she had exited all our lives. A little sadness, perhaps, but, in the main, we were celebrating new lives, new possibilities. I found that, with my marriage truly over and with the work I did in the woods a couple weeks ago to free myself of anger, I wished peace and happiness for my ex-wife. As our marriage spiraled downwards to divorce, I extended a lot of grace to her and I found that I was still willing to do so.

My friend was happy for me and it seemed a fitting bookend for the person who had created my union with my ex-wife to raise a toast to its end.

Afterglow 53

A few? several? months ago I heard? read? something by Louise Perry about a newer holiday. Or she was inveighing against newer holidays generally. Her gripe was that celebrations/commemorations of a more recent vintage have shallow roots, they don't have years of tradition behind them to bolster their potency by imbuing them with meanings honed through the ages and handed down to us moderns. It seemed a very silly complaint to lodge. I mean, traditions have to start somewhere; they weren't floating around in the ether waiting on human beings to grasp them; they were purposely created by people at some point to speak to the times in which they arose.

It seemed to be a case of chronological snobbery where new traditions were assumed to be inferior because...well, because. She didn't really offer an explanation and I felt her performance in the piece or podcast or whatever it was to be weak sauce in contrast to her usual thoughtful commentary. I think this was around the time she had converted to Christianity and so she was likely speaking with the zeal of the convert. New holidays, especially those that aren't Christian in nature, don't deserve our attention - their meanings and practices be damned. Age and Jebus are all the count. If her attitude had been more widespread back in the day, her beloved Christian holidays would never have gained traction. Imagine a 4th century Louise Perry arguing against this new-fangled Christmas holiday and instead lecturing people on the great virtues of Saturnalia.

This came to mind last Friday while I was driving north as it was Beltane. 1 May. While I'd rather have been standing around a bonfire marking the Wheel of the Year rather than sitting behind the Wheel of the Mazda, I at least had the consolation of meeting an old friend at the end of my journey. While I am unsure how Beltane celebrations today compare with those of ancient Celts, it really doesn't matter. The important thing is to enjoy all the flora you can as buds become leaves and the great outdoors simply becomes ever more verdant; to enjoy the warmer weather and prepare for planting as the last freeze date nears; and, if possible, linger near a fire. For me Beltane is the fulfillment of the promise of the vernal equinox. And a good excuse to send my friend in Milwaukee a card with a bunch of cats dancing around a bonfire.

In addition to defending Kwanzaa from Christianity, I listened to some podcasts (I'm looking at you here, Danièle Cybulskie) and thought about my divorce. My feelings on the end of my marriage were largely those of anger and I wanted to change that. But contemplating my divorce encompasses a lot more than just the process of ending marital bonds or doing the same old forensics on the decline of my marriage. Now questions like "How shall I prepare to grow old now that I am unmarried?" rear their heads.

I will be better prepared to tackle those types of questions at some point after my divorce is finalized.

It was late evening when I got to Osseo and I checked into my hotel first thing. It had apparently changed hands since I was last there and the new owners had done some remodeling. Some new paint, a completely reorganized lobby, and fancy new door locks with attendant card readers. The woman behind the counter showed me to my room - such service! - and demonstrated the use of the room cards as well as sensors for exterior doors that merely require the wave of a hand to unlock.

I asked her about all the changes and remarked that, despite them, the place still had that 1960's vibe, especially the ribbed concrete(?) walls. I also thought, but didn't say aloud, that it had retained the feel of a motel where guests are not allowed to have guests in their rooms, if you take my meaning.

She replied, "Yeah, it's not too different from when I spent my second wedding night here back in 1993."

Her remark seemed odd to me at first - who would honeymoon in Osseo? - but my mind was quickly gripped by the Baader-Meinhof effect which dictates that, once you are in throes of divorce, it seems like most people have been through it too or are, at least, having marital problems and seem to be heading towards separation. See! Even the hotel clerk has been divorced. No one stays together anymore.

Eventually I made it to my room where I was able to relax for a short time before my friend Jason texted to say he was on his way to Burly-N-Bucks. Sadly the Northwoods Brewpub, our usual meeting spot, was no more. While I grant you that their beer quality was inconsistent, I still have great affection for their Rowdy Rye, a mighty fine rye ale.

I arrived to find my friend conspicuously absent so I ordered a beer and waited. It wasn't long before he stepped in the door and the bartender greeted him by name. Apparently the kid played baseball and Jason was his coach at one time. My hug did not adequately express how good it was to finally see my old friend. Heading north to visit him followed by some hiking had been an annual vacation for me for a few years but I failed to make the trip last year. My life was occupied with a failing marriage, being served divorce papers, moving into an apartment, depression, and a desire to keep a day or two of vacation time in reserve for potential court appearances. It's not that any single one of these things kept me from making the trip but rather, in concert, they threw me into a mode of "I'll sneak the trip later in the year." and I could just never seem to sneak it in.

We caught up on one another's lives. His family was well and his daughter is to marry next year. Being in our 50s, we talked about health issues. An old classmate or two came into the conversation including one whose name we couldn't recall. I just remembered that he was always dressed to the nines and was gay. Jason and I both could picture a face but his name remained on the tips of our tongues. We also tossed around ideas for an off-anniversary class reunion. It was a mixed bag of topics. Oh, and baseball. Baseball is life for Jason.

About an hour in it occurred to me that one reason I enjoy his company so much is that he is genuine and doesn't hide behind a facade of irony and sarcasm. Not that he isn't ironic and sarcastic at times but he hasn't adopted these attitudes as a lifestyle unto themselves. In addition he hasn't become a grumpy old man. Not yet, anyway. He isn't angry and cynical like some of the people I know in my age cohort (I am thinking of my wife here, especially.); instead he is good-natured and gladsome. It must be all the clean country livin'.

Having him return to my life after an absence of decades has been wonderful.

At some point a hard day of coaching baseball caught up to Jason and getting up at 4, working, and then driving caught up with me. Before we parted he gave me some fine reading material.

For my part, I made sure he went home with the bag of treats from Fortune Favors that I had brought. I am responsible for his addiction to their candied pecans and I am unrepentant.

I slept well and was up at my usual time which was before I could get a good cup of coffee in town. The brown water from the coffeemaker in my room managed to stave off my cravings just long enough while I did some writing before I showered. A bit after 7 I was off. First stop: The Nickel Barn.

The Nickel Barn wasn't far away from the motel and I could taste the coffee goodness as I made the short drive just to the other side of the interstate. Stepping out of my car I was greeted by an orange cat.

Seeing him or her approach put a big smile on my face. What a great way to begin my day - with pets. I wandered inside where I got a large coffee and a couple souvenirs. Their shelves were a bit on the bare side but I suppose this wasn't surprising considering that it was not yet tourist season. Come Memorial Day weekend, they'll no doubt be fully stocked with bourbon barrel aged maple syrup, chocolates with animal scat names, et al for the visiting hordes from Chicago.

I wandered through the antiques outside the barn for probably the first time.

While there I was joined once more by the curious orange cat who was out to get more pets.

Alas, the time came for me to hit the road and bid a fond farewell to the feline.

I decided that I'd catch Highway 53 just west of Osseo and take it all the way up to New Auburn. Before becoming an expressway through Eau Claire, 53 is a lovely drive through the country at 55, though I prefer to driver more slowly and take in the scenery. For some reason I especially enjoy the stretch from Foster to Brackett as it engenders feelings of nostalgia within me despite the fact that I have no particular memories of that stretch of highway from when I lived in the area. There's just something about it that brings my high school days back with some force.

It is certainly pretty. On one side there are gorgeous rolling hills while trees hug the other. People's homes are tucked into clearings in the woods and an occasional abandoned farm house zips by in a blur as you drive along. This section encapsulates the variety of inhabitants and highlights the beauty of the area as well. Perhaps part of the reason it resonates with me so is because it's close to where I lived yet I don't really have any memories of it. And so it hasn't changed in my mind and thusly gives no hint of all the years that have passed. When I drive down Highway 93 I notice the changes that have occurred over the past 35+ years. But 53 seems almost frozen in time and in my mind it looks essentially like it did in 1988.

I drove through the Eau Claire area and ere long I was truly up north.

Friendship, fourfold

After work yesterday I went to visit Piper for it was her birthday.

It was a tad chilly and drizzle hung in the air but I don't think she minded in her new spectral form. I enjoyed being in her presence once again. I miss her dearly.

Despite the grey skies and the somber, reflective mood I was in yesterday, I had cause for celebration. A friend invited me to meet him at the Villa Tap for lunch. When I got there, I didn't see him at the bar but heard my name being called nonetheless. I scanned the room but couldn't see the source of the call until some arms moved. A former co-worker was at the bar but her head was in front of the window across from the entry so her face had been obscured in darkness.

It was good to see her as it had been several years. Also at the bar was another former co-worker. A mini-reunion! We chatted for a bit before my friend who had invited me showed up. We found seats at the corner of the bar and caught up on things. Ere long, another friend of ours and fellow Zupan walked in and joined us. I hadn't seen him in many years and I discovered that he is my neighbor.

What a treat! I went there expecting to see 1 friend and ended up seeing 4 people I know, most of whom I hadn't seen in ages. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be dropping in at the Villa more often.

Song of the day:

Out on the town

On Friday night I met a friend at Genna's Cocktail Lounge, the venue being her choice. I could not recall the last time I was there. Walking inside memories of going there to see The Vibro Champs play upstairs back in the mid-90s rushed back.

It felt a bit odd to be surrounded by all the young folk who were my stepsons' ages and younger. Since the temperature outside was well above freezing, many women had their lithe, youthful bodies on display as they were clad in short shorts, mini skirts, crop tops - that kind of clothing. And the young men were jockeying for their favors.

At some point all of the other older folks had left leaving me and my companion to represent the over 30 (i.e. - 50) crowd. Ere long Boyce Johnson, drummer extraordinaire, came in and sat at the bar so we had some grey company for a spell.

My companion and I had a wonderful time. We talked about cats and music and friendship and divorce. She has given me some good advice in dealing with the end of my marriage, discussed her divorce openly, and been very supportive of me these past few months.

A Jethro Tull song came to mind.

Sit down as strangers will, let the stress unload.
Talk in confidential terms, share a dark unspoken fear.  

We made the clasp as I received one of the biggest hugs ever from her that night as she gave me her condolences for Piper's death. 

This was the first time I'd spent 3+ hours at a downtown bar in a very long time. I drove her home and hauled one of Piper's cat trees up to her place where two felines awaited. At first they eyed up this new structure from afar before cautiously approaching it. After some intense sniffing, they began applying their own scents to it.

I am glad it'll get some use instead of sitting around my apartment gathering dust and standing as a monument to loss. When I get a new cat, she'll get a new tree.

Divorce brings on many unexpected things.

Gifted

I was recently given this fine, capacious D&D themed mug by a friend of mine. I have yet to use it but suspect it will be overflowing with tasty beer ere long.

Why yes there is a 20-sided die embedded in it. 

Giving thanks

I am trying to inveigle my youngest stepson into making the rounds with me instead of staying at home - alone, presumably - but he's an obdurate %#@#*. Still, I love him anyway.

This Thanksgiving I feel genuinely thankful for the first time in a while. Or maybe it's more of an elevated level of appreciation.

Whatever the case, there are two people that have been so helpful and so kind to me these past several months, they've gone out of their ways and have been there for me in ways they probably don't even know. These people are helping me steer a new course in life and I am incredibly grateful.

While I cannot give their names or show you their faces, I can do so for the third (non-human) person in this trio of gratitude. This is, of course, Piper.

She cuddles with me when I go to sleep and gently taps me on the face in the morning signaling it's time for the human to prepare breakfast. Her presence brings me comfort and joy, keeps the loneliness at bay. She broke her fast on turkey this morning which surprised me as I wasn't convinced she'd go for it instead of the tuna.

Thanks to these people and others still, mirth is primary in my life instead of apprehension, anxiety, and sadness. Things truly do get better.

Civil Shrifting in the Cream City

Francis Bacon wrote:

A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and discharge of the fulness and swellings of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause and induce. We know diseases of stoppings and suffocations are the most dangerous in the body; and it is not much otherwise in the mind; you may take sarza to open the liver, steel to open the spleen, flower of sulphur for the lungs, castareum for the brain; but no receipt openeth the heart but a true friend, to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and whatsoever lieth upon the heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift or confession.  

His words came to mind last weekend as I prepared to visit friends in Milwaukee. I wasn't going to have a lot of time there but I was determined to make the most of what I was allotted and that would include not only me imparting griefs, joys, etc. but also my friends doing the same. While I'd hoped to be able to see everyone I knew in the Cream City, a couple had to bow out due to a funeral out of town. Still, two thirds ain't bad.

It was a lovely, sunny Saturday afternoon when I got into Bay View. Traffic hadn't been bad and I made it to the home of a couple friends in good time. I found that they were waiting for me on their porch. One I've known since high school and her husband since they've been married. It had been a while since we'd seen one another so the hugs were generous and most welcome. They were experiencing their own trials and tribulations so we could commiserate.

After presenting them with their gifts - food from Madison, I was presented with a loaf of sourdough bread in embryo. It was rising. Leaving the dough to its own devices, we headed out to Seven Bridges Trail. It was a perfect afternoon for a walk.

While there were still some leaves hanging on until the bitter (cold) end, I suspect we had missed peak color by a couple weeks. That is, I had missed it. My friends had been here to witness Nature in its resplendent glory.

As we walked along, I got caught up on the vexations which plague them and I, in turn, told them of my divorce and my progress in creating a new life for myself. Many griefs, joys, fears, and hopes were exchanged. And then my friend told me that my wife had visited them back in August, a month or so after our divorce began. It did not go particularly well and I felt badly for them; I felt responsible despite not being so, not even knowing of the social call. Oh well. Hopefully there will not be a repeat.

The trail was gorgeous. My friends said that it had been sparsely populated on their last visit but this day it had people everywhere. It lies on the shores of Lake Michigan and had a rather nice beach which I bet is well used during the summer months. 

As we walked along the shoreline, my friend noted that we weren't too far from where the body of Sade Robinson had been found. The 19 year-old had been murdered by a sick fucker named Maxwell Anderson who also dismembered her body.

Despite the horrific tale, it was a relaxing walk and we got caught up on one another's lives. Ever since my divorce began I've been wanting to draw my friends close, to be deeply present and deeply in their presence, and to savor their company like a fine wine. This was a very nice start to the weekend.

The walk also had the effect of giving us all a thirst and so it was off to the newly-reopened St. Francis Brewery.

The brewery closed back in 2019 but had been resurrected this spring - how fitting. I adored their Lust, a Weissbier, back in 2015 and wondered if it was still available. 

I began with a Krug of their Festbier which was very tasty with a toothsome maltiness and just enough hops for balance. While supping and snacking our conversation on the trail continued on barstools. I gave them an idea of the location of my new abode and the details surrounding my hasty exit from the marital residence. In turn, I heard more about their situation and how difficult waiting for resolution was on them.

My second brew was their Hefeweizen, Held Up Hefe. It too was very tasty but had a lighter mouthfeel than Lust. New owners, new recipe, I suspect.

Evening had arrived and we set out to find dinner. We settled on the Vanguard Bar which had vegetarian options aplenty for my friends as well as carnivorous ones for me. On the way there, a couple other friends of mine texted saying that they had returned from the funeral early and were available to get together. Wunderbar! I replied that we were going to eat and that I'd let them know when we were done.

Stepping into the bar we found the place to be packed. We had a 20-minute or so wait for a table. The TV screens had Pink Floyd live from Saint Tropez in 1970 playing but it was Whitney Houston that emanated from the speakers.

I had a bratwurst with onion, sport peppers, and spicy kraut. My friends ordered fries, fried tofu with a ginger-garlic glaze, and a salad of some kind. Everything was delicious but the fried tofu was perhaps the star of the meal with its glazed umami overload.

And the beer was cheap. $6 for a pint of Spotted Cow. Other beers were equally affordable.

With dinner done, I text my friends that we were on our way to the Blackbird Bar which is the tavern of choice of basically everyone I know in Milwaukee. As with the Vanguard, the place was packed. The crowd here was younger, though, and I spied a couple women whose breasts threatened to spill out of their tops. The game was afoot!

We found a few seats at the end of the bar and continued chatting. After a short while, my other friends showed up. We'd not seen one another since May and so their hugs were most welcome. It was simply wonderful to be with all these friends whom I don't get to see often. Even more special than normal. I felt so comfortable and wanted. A couple of them had met before but that was back in 1991 during our college years at a Halloween party that lives on in infamy. They reacquainted themselves with ease.

All too soon our ages showed and we headed out for the comfort of a couch. I was staying at my friends' place and took up position on the love seat while they the couch. We listened to music, supped beers, and chatted away about everything. A wonderful time. They introduced me to the music of Ngozi Family, a Zambian band from the 1970s.

The next morning one of my friends was out the door early to teach her yoga class. For my part, I was to meet up with some other friends to hang out in a sauna before enjoying the cool waters of Lake Michigan at Hot Spell Sauna.

Before then, I hung out with my friends' cats. 

My other friend woke up and we hung out for a short while before I was picked up. I hadn't seen this friend or her husband in a while so I found myself full of joy at being in the company of the remaining folks I know in Milwaukee. My friend has been enjoying the sauna for a while and I couldn't turn down her invitation to join her even if it was only just above the freezing mark outside.

The morning was sunny and clear, if cold, as we pulled into McKinley Marina which the sauna called home. My friend's husband had never been there and I took comfort in not being the only person for whom this was the first time.

A couple portable saunas were set up on the lakeshore next to the boat launch. The idea was that you would spend some time in the heat and then zip down the ramp and into into the lake.

We went into the sauna and I think we all started sweating immediately in the 200+ degree heat. But it felt good. The occasional dose of water on the coals got my nose burning even more as the steam entered my nostrils.

Sitting in the steamy heat, the three of us chatted about life - divorce and kids, for example - for a spell and then it was time to get into the water. We wandered around the fence and made our way down the boat ramp. The second my feet hit the water a shiver went up my legs and I could feel, as George Costanza said, shrinkage. It was freezing!

We waded in deeper. It didn't take long for my legs to go numb. No fancy neoprene accoutrements here; just a swimming trunks and Crocs. I was able to make it in about navel high before retreating. Once out of the water, I felt very good despite the sub 40 degree temps and a moderate wind as I didn't feel the wind's chill; rather it was a revivifying briskness. 

This hot and cold pattern was repeated throughout our 75 minute session. It was absolutely exhilarating!

Afterwards I was invited back to my friend's place for breakfast and more banter. I got to see her kids who had grown quite a bit since I'd last seen them. In addition, I was treated to some highly tasty Anodyne coffee from Sprocket Cafe. And I met their über-friendly hound, Izzy. Look at dem ears! 

All too soon it was time to go and I got dropped off at my other friends' place where I found them relaxing on the couch with the Packers game on the TV. I headed home after the game had finished and we had chatted away even more.

I made it home with a lovely loaf of sourdough in tow.

But also a couple paintings done by my friend that he generously gave to me to decorate the walls of my new place.

What a glorious weekend! I got to see, hug, and chat with every one of my friends in Milwaukee (they are all denizens of Bay View, curiously enough). It was great to be in their company when talking instead of having conversations mediated by a phone. Their hugs were wonderful and just being with them was so invigorating, so needed. In addition to discharging the swellings of the heart, simply being in their presence put me at ease and made my cares seem far away. I am very lucky to have them in my life.

People are the mainspring

While I still have a lot of work to do on my new abode, it has a comfortable feel to it. I have neither a bed frame nor a television, but my kitchen is outfitted well and it is so courtesy of various people. One friend gave me plates, bowls, and various other kitchenware; the flatware belonged to one of my grandmothers; I drink coffee from a cat mug given to me by a different friend; Piper is enjoying spending time in the living room on a couch given to me by yet another friend; my kitchen table has the housewarming gift from my youngest stepson on it.

And there's more to come. For instance, I have a print that belonged to my stepmother ready to find a home on a wall. Plus, after I repaint a night stand that I got at a thrift store, I am going to put the pitcher and wash basin that belonged to my grandmother whose flatware I use onto the shelf at the bottom.

I find comfort in having a place furnished with these gifts, these inherited items as they make me think of where they came from. Drinking coffee from my cat mug generates warm feelings for the friend who gave it to me and makes me thankful for her generosity; sitting at the table upon which my stepson's gift sits reminds me of how kind and creative he is; when I eat with my grandmother's flatware, the few memories I have of her come flooding back and I find a degree of reassurance in family.

 

(Piper relaxing on a couch given to me by a friend and next to a quilt made by another friend's mother which has gone unused until now.)

These things remind me of all the wonderful people in my life several of which have shown such great kindness these past few months. It is humbling to be in their inner circles of sympathies and the recipient of their generosity, not just of things but of their time, their ears, and their hugs. The associations of these things with people who are important to me serve as a reminder that I am not alone, that I am part of something larger that provides succor in my time of need and joy at all times.

********

Last night I dined at a friend's house on tasty pot roast. It is nice having him just a couple blocks away now. As I was leaving to head over to his place, I noticed smoke emanating from the backyard and went to investigate with curiosity piqued. Peeking around the corner, I found that my downstairs neighbor was out back sitting before a portable fire pit and staring pensively at the flames which cast a deep orange glow onto her face.

I had run into her last month when I brought the first load of my belongings over. A Latina who appeared to be in the latter half of her 30s, I was delighted to discover that my neighbor was very friendly. She helped me lug a dresser up the stairs and even offered to enlist her sons for further help, should I need it. Since that initial meeting, I hadn't run into her outside of a brief encounter early one morning when she was taking her dog for a walk. However, I have encountered her cooking, albeit from a distance, when the back door to her apartment was open one day and the wonderful aroma of whatever she was making wafted out.

When we met last month I told her it was to be just me and my cat and last night she asked how I was settling in as well as how my cat was adjusting to her new home. I told her of the paucity of furniture in my apartment which led to me revealing that my divorce was in media res. She offered that, while she has never been divorced, a relationship of 20 years had ended, fairly recently I gathered, so we have that in common. I asked about her children and learned that she had 3 and their ages which ran from 11 to 21. The youngest is becoming more independent or headstrong, depending on your viewpoint. In turn, I told her that I have two stepsons.

She said that she enjoyed the simple pleasure of fire and that she hoped to have the flames roaring again soon. A woman after my own heart.

I always have time to chat with a pretty lady and it was certainly time well spent last night. While I approached her not wanting to be an intruder, I soon felt welcome, that her questions were genuine. I think I have a good neighbor.

Bowling with Jesus

The Christ was at our table for the WORT Bowl-a-thon a couple weekends ago.

I met a friend there and, since we were a team of 2, we got paired up with another couple fellows in the same boat. It had been a long time since I'd been bowling despite meaning to roll a couple lines for the past few years as an excuse to get out of the house.

Immediately I was presented with a few Escanaba Specials.

We were each given a clutch of raffle tickets and so, after putting my bowling shoes on and grabbing a ball that was a bit too light but had the needed space between the finger holes, I wandered down the hall to where the raffle prizes were on display.

While in line waiting for my chance to peruse the prizes, I heard a woman say "Skippy!" It was ***** and she walked over and gave me a great big hug. I hadn't seen her in a few months so it was nice to do so once again. We chatted briefly and she returned to her lane while I looked over the goodies that I just knew in my bones I was going to win. Most of them were concert tickets for shows on dates when I was unavailable and so I stuck with the couple shows I could actually attend.

With about 10 minutes to go before the bowl-a-thon was set to start, we all threw some practice balls. Mine were horrible. Lots of gutters. I just couldn't keep my arm straight. I figured that, as things went along, I'd get warmed up and roll better with the help of Jesus.

It was great fun despite my poor bowling. While my swing did get straighter after a couple frames and I think I broke the 100 mark all three games - not by a whole lot, however - I was a bit disappointed. No worries though as the two fellows we bowled with were very friendly and I had not seen my friend **** in a couple months so it was great to catch up.

Between games I ran into ***** and we chatted for a few minutes. She remarked that she had felt my wife and I would be together forever. So did I, at one time. I gave her some details from my perspective and told her that I had moved out of the marital residence and was starting my life over. ***** kindly noted that I had lost weight and looked "hot". Ha! What a lovely thing to say! She also gave me a big hug that seemed to last and last like the Energizer bunny. It was wonderful!

We also chatted about cats as ***** owns one of Piper's brothers so we had a brief cat catch up before it was again time to bowl. 

With our three games down, we were given bonus raffle tickets and I went to disperse them after I dropped off my shoes. As I strode out of the room I heard a woman call "Skippy!" again from the pit of the lanes in front of me. It took me a couple seconds to recognize her but it was *******, a friend of my wife's that I knew a little. She had been bowling with *****.

The reason that I didn't immediately recognize her was that she had lost a lot of weight due, I would shortly find out, to a battle with cancer. I hadn't seen her in years and so we caught up. She told me of her struggles with cancer but also that she had become a grandmother. *******  told me that she had tried to get a hold of my Frau via text but had been unsuccessful and so had tried another means. I wished her well in her quest and told her all I could about why she hasn't heard back which was next to nothing. In turn, I told her about my divorce and the various changes that it has spawned, both good and bad.

It was lovely to see both ***** and *******. On the way out ***** got my number and shot me a brief text. I replied saying that it was great to see her and ******* and thanked her for her ginormous hug and kind words. She replied by saying that ******* had remarked to her that it was great to see me and that they wanted to take me out one of these days. What an unexpected delight!

Hopefully ******* can get a hold of my Frau and they can relight their friendship. We can all use as many friends as we can get.

Cats and for those times when square ice cubes just don't cut it

A friend gave me this housewarming gift.

It should say "HOME IS WHERE PIPEY IS" but it's still lovely.

Another friend likes to indulge my gaming dorkness and gifted me this fancy ice cube mold that makes rather large d20 drink cooling icosahedron. That smoked rum I bought in Birmingham is gone so it'll likely be rye next time. 

Compline, 28 October 2025

I've got some Pearl Jam up loud in my headphones and I am petting Piper in between texts to an old friend who knows more about baseball than perhaps is safe. Things just feel good. I was clapping along to the final verse which is some of the most beautiful music ever devised by mankind.

Stoplight plays its part
So, I would say you've got a part
What's your part? Who you are
You are who, who you are

My boss caught me swaying and boppin' to this song in my chair this afternoon. At least she didn't witness me playing air bass. There were ups and downs this day but overall it was good. The past couple days were really wonderful, very fulfilling, and humbling. I met up with a few people I hadn't seen in ages on Sunday and now I've got two lovely ladies looking to take me out plus a gentleman who wants to go out for a beer and discuss music.

Yesterday I had dinner with my father-in-law and was treated to some heartfelt conversation that was also greatly informative.

Lots of thoughts, lots of pieces to fit together.

Out East, a breviary

Some scenes from my trip to Boston. Well, the Boston area as I was only in Boston proper when I was at the airport. Rather my trip was spent in Concord, Framingham, Haverhill, Somerville, Groveland, Methuen, and Beverly.

I landed at Logan and got a car. Then it was off to Concord for a pilgrimage to Walden Pond.

Massachusetts had a lot more color than we do here and it was gorgeous. But more importantly, it was absolutely sublime. My heart was beating out of control as I crossed the road and entered Walden Pond State Reservation. I went down to the main beach and hit the Pond Trail which runs along the shore, 1.7 miles, if I recall correctly. My excitement could barely be contained at walking where Henry David Thoreau's footfalls landed and I became consumed with awe.

My nose was enraptured by the smell of pine as I ambled down the trail. It smelled wonderful! I felt like a little kid and ran my hands through the evergreen needles on the boughs I was walked past. Looking up into the trees and then over at the pond, sniffing the pine, feeling the sun upon my skin - it was the blooming and buzzing awe at the majesty of Nature. 

At one point I realized that I had missed the site of Thoreau's cabin and so, after I finished the loop, I started it again. The caretakers of Walden aren't exactly enamored of signs so it took a little wayfinding along with some wrong turns before I found it.

I took in views that Thoreau did, I walked the earth he walked. Glorious!

A reproduction of his cabin has been erected by the visitors center along with a statue of the man.

Just perfect. I love this statue because it captures one of Walden's main themes: how to live one's life?

What a tremendous, soul shaking experience. I shall never forget it.

I wasn't through with Concord and returned the next day to investigate Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. 

It features Authors Ridge where the graves of Thoreau, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Louisa May Alcott, and Ralph Waldo Emerson lie. It took me a while but I finally found it.

Thoreau ran the family pencil business, you see, in addition to being a writer.

I was also in the area to visit an old friend and his family. He and I went out sightseeing one day and I caught St. Joseph catching some rays one evening at St. Basil's Seminary.

We also went out to sample some seafood which I had neglected to do last year in Boston. 

Why yes The Simpsons did come to mind.

My friend and his Frau got their daughter a kitten. She was adorable with the cutest ear tufts. 

My trip was timed purrfectly for another reason: HONK!. HONK! is an activist street band festival and my friend was formerly in such a band, Chicago's Environmental Encroachment. We spent several hours at the festival on Saturday.

Madison's own Forward Marching Band represented the Dairyland. 

I kinda sorta vaguely know one of the members. When I said hello between songs I was most unexpectedly given a big hug which meant more to me than I think this person knew. (Hugs mean so much to me right now so thanks!) I was representing Wisconsin with my Ski-Hi Fruit Farm t-shirt and 2 of the band members knew someone who worked there and so I got a nod of approval from Anna Purnell during a song and the other woman came over to me afterwards and asked to take a photo of me with her so that she could send it to her friend who worked there.

HONK! was marvelous and I "danced" the whole time. It felt great to move my body.

Afterwards my friend and I had dinner. I ate a Korean Hot Cheetos corn dog so you don't have to.

With our bellies full, it was off to The Cabot to see Steve Hackett. It was a special night as I had gotten my friend into Genesis back in the sixth grade when I handed him my copy of A Trick of the Tail and said knowingly, "Listen to this..." He'd never seen Hackett live which only added to the magic of the night.

It was a fantastic show. "Shadow of the Hierophant" was fantastic as usual and the extra soloing at the end of "Supper's Ready" was again transcendent. Plus The Lamb material was simply spectacular. And I love love love "Circo Inferno", one of Hackett's newest pieces.

Besides all of this fun & excitement, it was sheer joy spending time with my friend and his family. His daughter has grown into a precocious nine and a half year old and I am slowly getting to know his wife. We all watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail and played Cards Against Humanity, Family Edition. And his wife cooked a tasty Lebanese dinner.

My friend and I also found time for some heart to heart conversation where we discussed our marriages and our lives.

The trip was only a few days long but it was packed with activities and music, with shared meals and communion. It was an intense long weekend and I am still processing it all. So many thoughts fill my mind about what I experienced and heard.

In Walden Thoreau asked how one should live one's life and I find myself asking that question frequently lately as I move into another chapter, as I start mine over in certain ways. What do I want my life to be like once my divorce is over? Is how I feel now going to continue when I am a bachelor once again?

I am preparing to move out of our marital residence and will soon be living alone for the first time in my life. Well, living without another human as I will have Piper. That I shall feel lonely is certain and I need to figure out how to confront the loneliness, to keep it at bay. Perhaps to use it for my own ends?

Having said all this, I do feel that I have been living more deliberately since my divorce began and I take solace that this can provide a foundation for building a new life, for figuring out how to live.