Just when I think I can glide along with one job for a while, I’m offered another part-time job; and I know I can’t afford to turn it down, so here I go, again!   I’m grateful for the extra work, but tired after a summer of  being crunched for time as I try to keep up at both work places.  I’m also resentful that it’s necessitated because the Ex is constantly behind on reimbursing me for his Health Insurance payments that are deducted from my pay, especially since he makes THREE TIMES as much as I do!  But, this is all part of the slug’s charming personality these days, and it makes me wonder: ‘what happened to the man I married?’

The first few years we were together, he was the perfect mate; patient, considerate, loving…. even if he was a slob and prone to ‘accidentally’ breaking and losing my things.  (Some of my most cherished china pieces and irreplaceable family items were smashed and goodness knows how many of my tools have just disappeared.)  But, after that, it’s been a gradual decline into Hell, and keep in mind, that as he’s a Canadian here on my sponsorship as his spouse; the United States requires an immigrant marriage to last for two years before they remove the temporary status off his Green Card.  After two years, he can apply for a Permanent Resident Card, which he did.  Hmmm!  Coincidence?   Since then, he’s become a vulgar, cheap, obnoxious tyrant with frequent temper tantrums and rages.  I foolishly made excuses for him; that it was because of stress due to our financial troubles, but wasn’t I under the same stress?  After all, he arrived in this Country in a 1986 pick-up truck and $800 cash; it was my life savings and house that were going down the tubes when the economy crashed, so in theory, it should have been worse for me.   I also find it ironic that after all we survived together, he waits until he has a really good job and some security before ditching our marriage.  *sigh*  I may never know what demons drive him, but it does seem as that it shouldn’t be possible for one person to change so completely.  To go from being polite, articulate and happy to a rude, angry idiot.  Other people have said the same thing;  never mind the discovery that he’s bi-sexual; they’re all as surprised as I am by his choices and by the utterly stupid things that have come out of his mouth!  It’s as though he ate some of that  bad Canadian beef and ended up with mad-cow disease and it’s now running rampant, eating his brain!  But seriously, I’m guessing that it has more to do with drugs and alcohol.  All  the more reason to look forward to a more pleasant future and to stop looking back.

My new part-time job is just temporary, but I’m planning on doubling the size of my beloved vegetable garden, and working some Farmer’s Markets next year.  My garden produced so much that even though I ate two meals a day out of it all season and froze and canned quite a bit, I still ended up giving a lot away.  A few people mentioned that I should sell the excess at Farmer’s Markets, but with two jobs, I just didn’t have time.  So, next year, I’m going to specialize in Heirloom varieties and set up my booth; maybe add a few extra’s like cloth shopping bags and T-shirts with my logo on them.  My youngest daughter was head pastry chef at a local bakery for many years and I asked her if she’d like to share a table with me; she’s a talented baker and could make some extra money for her family, too.  She’s considering it; as the sole support of her family (her ex is also delinquent on his child support payments) she’s been working two and sometimes three jobs and can use all the income she can get.  Anyway, that’s the plan.  If all works out well, I’m hoping that I can just get by with my  job as a writer (it’s been my life-long aspiration to make a living as a wordsmith) and make enough extra at the Farmer’s Markets to tide me over through-out the year.

In the meantime, life stumbles along.  I’m still trying to get my fisherman friend out of my heart and hoping I’m succeeding at it, because I won’t be able to give it away to someone else as long as he has possession of it.  After so many years of knowing one another I know he truly cares but I also know that he’s not in love and there’s no point in hanging onto any hopes that some day he will be.

So, I’m gradually ironing out all the creases in my life; tackling one thing at a time and I’m basically happy.  Fall is beginning to come on in earnest and I revel in it, as it is my favorite time of year.  On sunny days the sky is deep blue and the air smells so sweet as the wild grapes ripen on the vine.  The leaves are turning and soon I expect to see flocks of birds pass overhead as they make their way south.  Some stop at the little pond behind the house for a drink and a rest, but most move past with the wind whispering as it rushes by their wings; the geese honking noisily as if they are cheering each other on, on the long and relentless flight to their destination.  They, too, are looking ahead.  I may have lost a husband and a marriage, but at least I’ve found myself and my dreams, again.

2 Gallon Basket of Brandywine Tomatoes.

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