The Best Moments sometimes came too late.

I love my mother, heart and soul.

She was an alcoholic who left recovery after ten years of sobriety to return home and do it on her own. That was the biggest mistake she ever made in my opinion.She never took another drink, but I wouldn’t call what she lived, sobriety. 

Mom suffered from severe depression on and off for most of her life. This blog post is not intended to tarnish her memory. Nor is it intended to trash AA, it’s a wonderful program. Mom was an amazing women. A force to behold most days.

She is my beloved. The bravest women I know.  

I will always be thankful for her.

I spent three months with her before she passed and  as crazy hard as those days were, I am eternally grateful for that time.

Nothing was left unsaid.

Our last words to each other were “I love you.” and “I love you too.”

I have peace knowing that my mother loved me and knowing that she knew she was forgiven by me and that I loved her as well. Not many people have that. What a gift.

Mom was laid to rest on August 22, 2015 after a long 15 year battle with COPD and severe depression and anxiety.

May she finally be at peace.

I grieved for three years as she died piece by piece. And I grieve now, not so much always for what we had, but for what we missed.

When she was happy she was a screaming riot, full of life and humor. Manic almost in her pursuit of joy, gardening and art. She would work around the clock creating beauty. I loved those moments as a child, even if I couldn’t keep up. Those were the best moments really. Baking cookies in the middle of the night. Painting ornaments. Creating jelly. Mom on a manic was fun, if not exhausting.

In those moments she was wildly creative and wildly beautiful. 

But when she wasn’t happy, she was a force to be reckoned with, a storm with no warning and no chance of surviving. She was brutal, cutting, and fierce to anyone and every one.

She was, in those moments, my greatest source of pain. 

There was a lot of anger in her depression and those closest to her were her best targets; a sister, a daughter, a niece, a nephew, a friend, it really didn’t matter. She became cold, uncaring almost. Her body would clench up and her eyes would fill with tears as she spoke of those who had inflicted wounds in her life.

Were they real or perceived?

I’ll never know.

It was too much to bear really.

For me anyway.

The suicide attempts or threats.

The lies.

The threats of abandonment.

The manipulation.

The tears.

The anger.

There were countless times I’d speak to her on the phone or visit during one of her “moods” and I’d wind up in the hospital or back in therapy sifting for the truth.

One time, my doctor told me to either have her committed or walk away to save my own life.

I was willing to do neither and chose rather to weather the storm, come what may and find a way to love her in a way that she could recognize. I eventually did towards the end and I have no regrets.

Someone in AA told her that she could not take meds and be “sober.” They said Bipolar disorder was a “lie and an excuse.”

What a load of BS. AA itself does not have opinions on outside issues, but people do and she listened to the wrong ones.

That little pill would have changed both of our worlds for the better, but she wouldn’t take it because AA told her not to.

So who do I be mad at?

A 12 step program that saved my life and sanity through Alanon? That’s not fair.

Should I be mad at her? After all it was her choice not to take meds.


The doctors who didn’t tell her the truth?

No one I guess.

I can’t afford it.

If I spend my days finding someone to be mad at, I’ll never heal.

I’ll spend my life like she did.

A victim.




Keeping score.

She’s at peace now.

It’s time for me to be the same.

Breathe Darlin’. It’s going to be okay. And if it’s not okay – hold my hand. Let’s walk this together. 

Let There Be Cowgirls

THIS is my idea of a good time.

I broke my right leg two years ago this week just walking on a beach. I required two surgeries to straighten my tibia and was laid up for over 16 months. Even after that, doc said no riding for a year. Well guess what — the year is up! I’m clear to ride again. Hang on y’all. It’s going to be fun!

And to be clear, no that is not me in the video. I just like the video. And the song.

Some days I wish for good aim

I do try to be honest with you guys. As much as I’d like to say I have I have it all together, I don’t always. Yesterday was such a day. Yesterday, I wanted to yell and scream and throw things. I didn’t. But I wanted to.

And yet I know, His mercies are new each morning. Praying for a better today.

Have you ever had one of those days when you wished “good aim” was a fruit of the spirit?

fruit of the spirit - aim

I have levels of crazy you haven’t even met yet.

she is crazy

Have you ever seen a Southern Woman throw a wall-eyed hissy with a red rubber tail? Someone is fixin to.

I did the math, I’ve been gone 152 days out of a possible 275 so far this year.That is almost 22 weeks away from my family. 21.7 weeks to be exact. Seven of those days were for fun. I spent my friend’s 50th birthday with them. The rest of those days weren’t even close.

In that time:

  • My mother died.
  • I missed my 25th wedding anniversary and my 50th birthday.
  • The airplane I was on caught on fire and had to make an emergency landing in the middle of a runway.
  • The apartment I was renting had bed bugs – I’m violently allergic to those by the way and the pain inflicted was incredible. I had to go to a small town ER where they were so freaked out that they tested me for everything from HIV to Ebola.  I have scars on my arms and legs people. SCARS!
  • The night gal at the new hotel had pet rats that stayed on her shoulders while she worked – RATS people, think about that for a minute, will you?
  • After dealing with bed bugs and rats, I not so wisely decided I was better off sleeping in my dead mother’s home while I organized her estate.  I do not recommend that. For one thing, that’s just heartbreaking really and for another it’s creepy sleeping there alone, especially if oh I don’t know – her radio suddenly turns on in the middle of the night when you are there.

I left. Locked the doors and flew home.

The house can wait.

Why am I about to unload crazy? I gave a guy $3,000 to clean up my trees while I was gone. He did half the job and won’t come back. Oh he says he will, but he never does — really? While it is true, thatI know better – half up front, half when he’s done,  I was in a crisis and had to be in NY to take care of Mom while she died so I trusted him on good faith. And I came home to learn, NOPE he didn’t do it. Even after my husband hounded him.

My best pecan trees are dead now.

That good faith is gone. Not a good choice for that man.

Make Your Own Sunshine


“Rather than trying to steal someone else’s sunshine, we should go and find our own.” 

I’ve seen this cartoon make it’s rounds on Facebook more than once. I love it.

I don’t believe in looking for happiness in someone else’s family. It isn’t there. If they’ll cheat with you, they will cheat on you 9 times out of 10. I’m sure someone out there can tell me they are the exception – that’s great. Me? I could never trust anyone who cheated.

I have a lot of male friends whom I trust and adore. And yes, I’m the kind of woman who will fly off the porch to hug a man I care about and think nothing of it. The men that have that level of spontaneity with me have earned that trust, are tried and true, and are friends with both my husband and myself.

What I am not, is the kind of woman who will allow a married man to tell me that I am “the only one he can talk to, the only one he can trust. He needs me.” That happened to me years ago — he was my boss’s boss and it took me a long time to get over the absolute betrayal I felt.

It took me even longer than that to get over the need that people believe it really happened. He’s kind of a high profile, everyone loves him, he’s just misunderstood, kind of guy. I think he’s a jerk. Today, I’m comfortable with the fact that I did almost everything right (I still think I should have dropped him where he stood, but you know.) I told on him and I walked away permanently and that is all that matters.

His actions, choices and lies cost me a career I thought I really wanted. It made me weird and very distrusting of men for a long time. I put new men in my life after that through all kinds of hoops and tricks. I wish I could take all of that back, but healing is a process I needed to go through.

Today I have a wonderful career that I am thrilled with, and I once again allow men to get close without having to dodge daggers along the way.

If you are a man who happened to meet me during my dagger years, I am so sorry. If you are still speaking to me – or reading my blog, thank you for your patience and grace.

Having said that I am also not above ending friendships with the opposite sex if I feel the friendship has become a threat to either of our marriages. It’s just how I roll. It’s how I was raised.

I will also end friendships with women whom I feel are becoming a threat to my marriage as well. Not that my husband would look – but the fact that they try so hard anyway gets them a one way ticket out of my life.


That has more to do with my self-worth than it does any kind of insecurity. I place deep value in my female friendships. Mutual respect, love and trust are vital.

Mutual respect, love and trust are vital in marriage as well. 

I love and trust my husband.

He loves and trusts me.

I am blessed.

There is no room in our lives for anyone who would look to steal our sunshine.

I’ve seen too many friends look for happiness elsewhere. Married or single. The damage done to their families and friendships is astronomical and it’s painful watching them walk out the consequences of their choices.

Known to say the first thing that comes to my mind and sometimes that get's me in trouble. I once told the King of Sweden that he was shorter than I thought he'd be.

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