Recovery

I was watching the news. They played a sound bite from a graduation speech Oprah had recently given. She said something along the lines of if you need to ask everyone else's opinion about what you should do, it isn't time to make a decision. If that is the case, spend time determining what is right for you first. These are words for the young twenty-somethings, but in many ways they are a reminder for the late 40-somethings too. Quiet is good.

A lot of my reflecting lately is where do we go from here? "We" is everything ranging from my family, to business, employment and finances. The last few years took everything, leaving me emotionally drained. I am realizing how drained I was by how not drained I feel now. This is progress!

We are starting over. Rebuilding our lives. It is humbling. But it takes quiet. This last year has been more about my personal emotional recovery and less about reflecting on what happens next. It has only been very recently where I was at a point where I am ready to move forward--though I still don't know what that looks like. The fog is still there, but the sun has come out.

We are almost done.

Just a Happy Post

Bliz and I are currently discussing the coconut trade in Madagascar. It is a text conversation. There is no real reason for this. And to explain the back story would take up more room in cyber space than necessary. But it makes me smile.

One of the happiest elements of my accidental business is talking to Bliz more often than not. Bliz friendships are rare but awesome. Everyone should have one.

It's All Good

As part of our closing of our accidental business there have been some unintended consequences. Yesterday we had our car repossessed. It isn't the end of the world. We knew it was happening. In fact, the tow truck driver told me he wished most people in my situation would be so nice. He even let me keep it long enough so I could drive across town to my nephew's birthday on Wednesday. We have alternative vehicles so we aren't having to resort Uuber.

The world is changing. That's just the way it is. I am ready to be done. Very soon.

Random Memories of Another One Gone

We bought this house at the time Marty's little sister was dying and my own mother was close to death. It is an odd way to remember a house, but sometimes memories are connected in odd ways.

Mr. Wonderful Tenant lived here. He owns a CPA firm in that town, but his life was in transition. If I could have cloned one tenant in the last 14 years, it would have been him. Even when he moved out, he still paid the rent until I found another tenant--but that isn't why I would have cloned him.

Ms. Shirley lived here too. If you want to know how, as Ms. Shirley told me, ALL, African Americans think about Rich White Landlords, go talk to her. She will give you an earful how evil I am just because of my skin color. Good riddance to her. The house was too good for someone with such an ugly disposition.

One time, an Oscar-nominated, and Grammy-winning song writer lived there, because his wife had a better divorce lawyer than he did. He is the one who once told me you see the same people on the way down that you saw on the way up.

Mr. 114 lived next door with his immaculate lawn until his life situation changed. Mrs. 114 and their two beautiful girls are still next door.

We lost this house a few weeks ago to the bank. I haven't checked to see what it went for. I could ask Kirby, but like all people who don't want to be part of a sinking ship, he has distanced himself from me. I am ok with that. I still like Kirby quite a bit. Don't judge him, please. People are human after all. Perhaps I will cross paths with him again. I hope so.

This is the house that Flunky and I had fought over the security deposit recently.The result was me ending up with the money that was owed and removing the Flunky-cancer from my life. Property management chemo.

One time, when it was empty, I camped here when I came to Birmingham. Mr. and Mrs. 114 loaned me pans and a sleeping bag. I was awoken in the middle of the night by the smoke alarm telling me the battery was near death. That wouldn't have been an issue except that some genius put the smoke alarm on the 20+ foot high vaulted ceiling. I solved this issue, by buying two more smoke detectors and putting them lower, and just letting the battery die on the unreachable one. It probably still has a spent battery.

This was one of my favorite homes. If I could have kept it I would have. It was easy to rent, and I got top-dollar. I like the neighborhood and the neighbors. The floor plan was a little quirky, but not in a bad way. Most homes don't have a catwalk under the 20+ foot high vaulted ceiling leading from one end of the upstairs to the other. However, loosing this one is also part of our closing the accidental business. It is my true hope there will be some family who will love this house and living there will bring them lots of happy random memories.