Long December

Goodbye 2025. Hello 2026.

This past year has been full of surprises. One of my partners had cancer. It sucked. Diagnosed in April and after surgery and chemo, declared cancer free earlier this month. I never got out of the country this year as planned, nor did I travel much farther than the Berkshires to visit my other partner from time to time in her travel job. I had a pinched nerve in my neck that took weeks of chiropractic care to correct, enjoyed a cardiac ablation to cure my SVT (spoiler, it kind of worked…) and missed seeing Counting Crows this year for the first time since 2016. We lost a cat in January, had another run-in with mental health issues and drug abuse, resulting in not one but TWO stolen cars on two different occasions, and generally had a shit time. I missed a lot of motorcycle weather for various reasons, so it wasn’t a record year for riding, although I will admit that the Mohawk Trail in Western Mass is a great ride. You should try it if you bike.

Things are ending on an upside, though. Like I said, we’re cancer-free. The travel job is ending this week, and I’ve made a new friend who offers me a world of things to learn about that I never needed to understand before. I went 48 weeks straight on my weekly photo challenge before having such a busy Sunday that I missed the fucking thing in week 49.  I’ll start again next year, I guess. Also, we got two new kittens that have become the heart of the house (see Cats in the Library for a take on that) I watched Ted Lasso – all three seasons of it- because my partner with cancer asked. It was enjoyable, but that’s about as much TV as I want to watch for a while, thanks.

But I’ve started to want to write again. That’s a very good thing. I’ve also taken up shooting pool again, so let’s add that to the long list of things I spend time on (and photography, and ax throwing, and bowling, and soon go-carting, too!) I’ve got some biggish ideas in my head that might end up here if I can make them work out.  I signed up for a half marathon, too. In May. I Guess I should start training seriously for THAT soon. I keep myself busy these days, and I keep trying to be a better human being every goddamned day.  It’s hard. You all know.

This post seems like a stream of consciousness and that’s okay – at least I’m writing (on a Cherry mechanical keyboard, no less… what a pleasure THAT is) and writing is good. My muse has been chirping to me in the dark places that are no longer occupied by monsters, which is also a good thing. Let’s all raise a glass to therapy, right?

I guess that’s enough catching up for now. I expect to write a holiday story one of these days, but not today.

At least not right now.

 

It’s been a year, and as our friend Adam Duritz reminds us:

“…It's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last…”

I am hoping for 2026 to be far better than this one.

Cats in the Library

The house was quiet and mostly dark. Rain pattered against the windows and the kittens sat watching the raindrops glide down the window.  They glistened like stars as in the reflected light, moving either slowly or quickly as their size and weight dictated. The kittens pawed at the window, hoping against futility that one would end up in their belly. Alas, not.

 

I typed. The soft clacking of the keyboard my companion in the silence while the house was still and the sun warmed up the eastern sky. I typed, trying to express my thoughts in a coherent way. Trying to squeeze the juice from the somewhat dried lemon I called my creative mind. My other companion sat by me on the next chair, nearly invisible and waiting patiently while words flowed onto the screen. She watched in silence, a larger-than-life character who kept this library guarded in its early days. A Rubenesque companion to teacups, books, and warm laps. She let her eyes wander over the words, my face, the kittens, and the ever-expanding shelves of books.

“So, what do you think?” I asked her quietly. “Making any sense?”

She blinked, looked away, then replied “My bowl is empty, you know.”

“Yes, I know, but you really don’t have a bowl here anymore. But thank you for staying”

“Someone has to watch out for all of you.” She mumbled as she turned in the chair.

I felt her nestle down and get comfortable. The kittens became distracted and left the window. On the way past, the girl, much smaller than her brother, paused just for a second and looked at the two of us. She blinked slowly at my companion and moved past, leaving just the two of us in the library.  I pushed back from the table and picked up the ghostly cat from the chair. She glared at me in false indignance but settled lovingly into my arms. I leaned over and sipped my tea then carried her around the shelves.

“See what we did while you were gone? It’s grown, hasn’t it?” I whispered to her, kissing her ear and making her make the face at me.

“I have.  Not a place to sit anymore – at least not with the books. I liked it airier, if you get me. It is easier to get in there and listen to the whispering books.” Her eyes moved from my face to the books and back again.

“I don’t think we thought about that. Good idea, but the kittens aren’t you. They’re clumsy and full of themselves. It is one of their charms.  You were always so careful and respectful.  These two are so funny. They have too big feet and too long legs for their bodies. You? We never worried about knocking anything over. Them? Not so much.” I paused, “We miss you.” I felt my eyes get wet. I blinked the tear away and smiled at the cat in my arms.  

She blinked and started to purr a little.

“I know. I’ve kept them away from those glass things, so they don’t knock them over, but they are busy little kittens. I show them how to do things, but kids these days…” She smiled a little and looked up at me. I appreciated the joke and held her a little closer. “So, what are you writing, Big Person?” she asked quietly.

“I’m writing a little story for her birthday.  I really haven’t written much, and this seemed like a good thing to get out”

“Huh. Didn’t you tell her happy birthday already?”

“I did”

“Didn’t you tell her you loved her?”

“I did. You sure are full of questions, aren’t you?”

“So why the story?”

“It’s what I do, isn’t it?”

“I thought you took pictures. I see them around…”

“I do that too, silly.” I kissed her head between her ears, and she shook it off.

She looked at me and I smiled back. I walked all around the library with her and showed her all my favorite books that we added since she left. Giving me the usual cat indifference, I could still feel her purring against me, so I knew she approved.

“So many stories here now. I think I will make a little room from time to time and listen to some books.  They always want to tell their stories; but you must listen. Humans don’t listen enough.”

I nodded in understanding. The kittens flashed by the door of the library, then returned to watch me. Sitting patiently, they blinked and groomed. “I think the little masters want to be fed” I said to my furry black companion.

“They do, Bring me to her. I want to lie with her on her birthday.”

I got a little teary and kissed her again.

Ever so quietly, I made my way to the bedroom and pushed the door open a little more, careful not to wake her. My companion looked up at me and blinked slowly, rubbed her face on my hand then my chin, and began to rise. I tipped her towards the bed, and she landed, maybe a little more softly than she intended.  I watched her make her way around the sleeper’s feet and legs, then up along her body to her beautiful little face. She tipped her head down and licked her ever so lightly.  Again, looking back at me a moment, she moved to her usual spot, draped over blanketed legs and curled up. The sleeper moaned a little, made a sweet noise and sighed in comfort and love.   I turned away, closing the door behind me. As I left, my companion said “Wait”

I stopped and waited.

“I never left you. Either of you.”

I teared up yet again.

“I feel you every day. Thank you for being with us” I whispered very softy.

“Go feed the kids, They’re great. I’ll take care of them too.”

And with that, she put her head down and curled her luxurious tail around herself and went to sleep. I closed the door and tended the little masters. Fed and content they returned to their window to continue catching raindrops, although a little more slowly. I typed, working through the words. Alone with the kittens this time.

 

 Surrounded by stories waiting to be told and so very, very in love.

 

<3

Happy Birthday

2025

 

Writing Again. Again.

     It’s been a a long, long time since I’ve written. A long time. Years, even. But here i am again, thinking about what i should write about. I’ve got a single installment of “Dream of the Raven’s Gate” to wrap up and post and finally complete that damned thing.  We’re coming into the holiday season so i could write another Halloween story, or another installment of Black Friday, or hell maybe even an Angus tale. 

But I’ll start with this. 

Fucking Feelings

It’s been so long that i can’t even remember the last time i gave anyone an update about my life. But in these days post-social media nonsense, i feel like nobody actually needs an update on my life. It’s my life. It’s a little complicated, a little easy, and always very deep in emotion. But sometimes things come up  that are worth sharing, and this one feels like it might be that. You be the judge. 

I’m am so tired of talking about my feelings. So tired. Every time I dig down to be able to express what it is I want to express, I discover yet another goddamned stone I didn’t intend to turn over. But there it is, lying in the sun in its shallow grave, belly up and exposed. Thus it needs to be picked up and turned over and over. And over. 

And over. 

A typical conversation about my feelings goes like this:

“I feel this way. I think it’s because ‘Reason x’ and I’m doing these things to work on that”

Pause. 

“Actually, ‘Reason y’ seems to be contributing to the way I’m feeling, not just ‘x’. I’m not sure how to deal with ’y’ just yet so I’ll put a pin in that and think about it until I’m ready to feel it. Then i will and we can talk some more”

A few minutes later…

“As i think about it…”

And this is how it goes.  Eventually I’ll get to the story from my childhood about something that didn’t SEEM traumatizing until viewed through the lens of time and experience. And then I realize exactly how traumatizing my childhood was. And then I realize how traumatizing all my previous relationships were. And THEN I realize how poorly I recovered from all this. Somewhere in the middle, I spiral down into realizing how poorly I responded to all these issues in the past: Setting boundaries, protecting myself with anger and rage and hate, and bottling up the emotions so i could examine them later. You know…intellectually.  And as you know, thinking is as long way from feeling those emotions. 

So i keep my emotions buried and deep. I put them in little isolationist jail cells, and i call them my monsters. And then I learn to believe that they are important to who I am as a person. 

But who the fuck keeps betrayal and hurt and disappointment close to their heart just to not  forget what it feels like?  Fucking broken me, that’s who. And I’m tired of it. So I’m trying to let all that shit go.  Can you guess the spoiler here? 

It. Is. SO.  Fucking. Hard. 

But with people in my life who understand, and hopefully some therapy with a human therapist, I’m going to get through all this shit.

It’s time to grow out of these childish fantasies of tapping that hurt to protect myself in the future. It’s a lie I’ve told myself for decades. 

And I’m tired