Meeting a paladin

I suppose I should be grateful that my life is fairly without speed bumps these days, but it seems to reduce the amount of silliness I want to post here. Perhaps I need to rethink this. 

Something I just realized is that I have never mentioned the new, improved boyfriend here. Earlier this year, feeling unhappy about Reed's situation, I decided to grow a spine and look for someone who was unattached. After a few weeks of unhappy swiping on the Bumble app, someone caught my eye. 

Instead of telling the world exactly what sort of woman he wanted, or telling everyone how wonderful he was, he said that he thought that kindness was more important than intelligence. And he hadn't described himself as Christian conservative as 99% of local men on dating apps tend to do. 

I could see why his appeal could be limited. He didn't have children or want any, he didn't have a high-paying job, and he wasn't particularly educated. He was scruffy and badly-dressed. But he had a lot of lovely greying hair, wore glasses, had kept his shirt on, and was taller than I. So I swiped in his direction. 

It took a while for us to finally meet, as he lives some 45 miles south of me, and our first date was stymied by his testing positive for covid. But we finally met and he was wonderfully weird. He presented me with a compass as a gift and had put on a clean MTV t-shirt.

And here was the real shocker: I met him at his usual dive bar where there was a karaoke night going on, and others kept nagging him to sing. When he finally did, I realized he had a beautiful baritone voice. 

And he didn't even ask if he could kiss me until the second date, and when he did, he did what I had been waiting for: he held my face in his hands while he kissed me. And he was a wonderful kisser. 

Goodbye to limerence

I don't get on Facebook often, as it's just too much to plow through. But I still check in a couple of times a week, as some friends use it to chat with me.

A few weeks ago, I noticed that John Savelle* had sent me a message and I hadn't answered him. So I clicked on his Facebook page. And I found his obituary.

I stared at the page for a minute, then read through the last postings. His daughter had posted news of his death, which was only described as "sudden". She had set up a separate remembrance page, and posted details of an upcoming memorial service.

Although I had no idea how or when it would happen, I'd held on to an illogical belief that we would meet again one day. I even admit I half-expected him to rekindle things after his wife died. I had expected her to go before he did, as she was not only 11 years older than him, he had recently admitted he was her caregiver, not her husband. 

I didn't consider attending the funeral, or sending flowers, or anything along that line. It would have served no purpose, except for possibly upsetting a few people.

I had kept a small framed photo of John on my bookcase for years. Now it's gone. It hurt to see it.

* See The Usual Suspects. 

The year of the dragon (almost)

For reasons unknown, I have a hunch that 2024 will somewhat be a better year than the last. Perhaps it's waning inflation, or the fact that I finally paid off my truck and have an extra $300 each month. And I actually won a Performance Award at work last month, complete with $100 Target gift card.

The Year of the Dragon doesn't begin until February, but I tend to feel its importance as it was when I lived in Hong Kong. Those born in this year, aka Dragon babies, really do tend to be more successful.

I've finally made some genuine moves to tackle the loneliness I feel. I began to attend a meditation group that meets Thursday evenings, and am in the middle of signing up for volunteering at a local hospice. I still remember visiting my mother during the last months of her life, and noticing that more than a few others seemed to have no contact with relatives or anyone else. Dying lonely seems particularly sad to me.

I traveled to Texas last October and brought back a friend for Loretta. Otto and Loretta enjoyed playing (more like play-fighting) during my time in Texas in 2022-2023, and she actually seemed lonely after Buddy's death, although they were never friends. Buddy had only recentlly allowed her to sleep on my bed at the same time as himself. While it's generally worked out, I do get annoyed as Otto is always stealing Loretta's treats, and he likes to get into any kitchen cabinet if the door isn't completely shut. 

Here's an amusing video of the two of them alternately washing and biting each other. 

While Reed and I finally went to his new hunt club, hunted, and actually shot a deer (he did, not me), it's also become a source of unhappiness for me. I feel that my ability to visit the hunt club was badly mis-represented. He recently admitted that the hunting license he had purchased for. me "didn't go through", so I have no license, and there are other reasons why I may or may not accompany him in the future. This made me feel as if he were so enthusiastic about my joining him, that he didn't check into the various rules. And I don't think he realized how much I was looking forward to this. I had been busily shopping for hunting kit and even considering a new .243 Winchester rifle, as he considers my borrowed 30.06 Gamemaster to be a "bazooka". (He's actually correct - a 30.06 round brings a deer down quickly but tends to destroy a lot of edible venison at the same time.)

I did bring up my concerns to him last night. While he asked me to wait until he had everything sorted out, I'm still not happy about the situation. Combined with the fact that he will spend most of February skiing in Montana, I'm beginning to think if I should let him go and find someone who has more time to spend with me. But this would be so difficult. I love him very much. But that doesn't mean it's all going to work out in the long run; it rarely does. 

the joys of autumn

I awoke this morning to a strange whistling sound. When I got up to investigate, it turned out that the heating system in my apartment had switched on during the night, and the bathroom radiator was the noisy culprit. I shut it off and the whistling stopped, but it was still delightfully warm when taking my morning shower. Everyone I know was well-done with summer. I have repeatedly felt thankful I am not in Texas.

Since last posting, the main bad news is that I lost my Buddy cat. It was the classic decline seen when cats go into renal failure; even though I was giving him sub-cutaneous fluids twice weekly to keep his kidneys going, his appetite gradually failed. The last week of his life, I realized an odd smell and took him to the vet, who found a large and horrid lesion in his mouth. She administered antibiotics and sent him home with high-calorie canned food, which he gobbled up that night. But the next morning I found that he had vomited it all up, and was hiding in a closet. When cats hide, they know they're dying and feel vulnerable, so I decided on the gentle death for him. All that was left was to watch him starve.

The remaining cat, Loretta, had a strange change in personality after Buddy was gone. She has transformed into a demanding lap cat who sleeps next to me at night and wakes me by chewing on my fingers. This is the same cat who hid behind the television during the first months at my old apartment. 

I am still seeing Reed, who has joined a new hunt club (aka deer lease) nearer us both. He has even purchased a deer stand that holds two people, not just one. My joke is that if this isn't true love, I don't know what is. The down side is that we haven't seen as much as each other as usual. His September week in Chattanooga was cancelled due to lack of testing materials, and last week he arrived Sunday, only to be felled by what was eventually diagnosed as food poisoning. The situation lasted all week because the food item that was making him ill was something he'd prepped to bring. He would be ill one afternoon/evening, wake up feeling better, but then after he ate the offending item he'd be ill again. It took him several days to figure this out. I was suspecting norovirus after his mid-week relapse, which is contagious for days or even weeks, so we only had one day/evening together. Sigh.

I'm liking it a lot here in Chattanooga. My only deficit: I am really bad at meeting new people. So I have joined a local book club and am searching some "meetup" sites for more opportunities. I need to make an effort.

Melina is back, and as badly-behaved as ever.

I would like to offer my apologies to my faithful readers, and offer a general catch-up:

• The full time job I began in December 2021 is still going on. I like it very much. 
• I returned to Texas for a few months to save on rent and assist Ian* with repairs to the rental property, but am back in Chattanooga in a new, larger flat.
• I am still seeing Reed*. My eight months in Texas were rough on him. I did visit him for a week in February. I still remember how he looked when I arrived and he half-walked, half-ran to me. I saw something in his eyes that I still cherish: passion, want, need, and love.
• After almost a decade, Cincinnati* surprised me by visiting me at my new flat earlier this month, before a local cycling event. It was platonic yet quite pleasant. He did eventually admit he did not feel the spark he'd hoped to feel, but I had done quite a bit to prevent this as it didn't seem to be the best way to re-unite.
• I still have Buddy the cat although he is elderly and in renal failure. I cook him chicken to encourage him to eat, although he is thin and sad-looking. He has a friend, a small orange female named Loretta. My cousin found her last year near a Loretta Lynn restaurant in central Tennessee.
• The only downer is that I stress-ate myself into being around 18 pounds heavier during my time in Texas, but since I'm not stressed here in Chattanooga, it should come off fairly quickly.

More soon, I promise.

 * See The Usual Suspects - also updated today.