“You will be selected for a promotion because of your accomplishments.”

“You emerge victorious from the maze you’ve been traveling in.”

“You are wise to keep your eyes wide open at all times.”

“You need to talk to someone what’s on your mind.”

“A tempting proposal will soon present itself to you.”

“Assert yourself, your ideas are worthwhile.”

“Never let an opportunity pass you by.”

“You will be surrounded by luxury.”

1. Container gardening.  Every year with the coming of spring (Okay, spring never really happened this year in Idaho, but you get the point), I want to plant a giant garden.  With the status of the house up in the air, I managed to rope myself in and planted containers with strawberries, tomatoes, peppers, and herbs.  This has proven to be much wiser than my previous gunho attempts of gardening in the past.  I’ve only enjoyed the herbs and a few strawberries so far with the extremely cool summer we are enjoying (Yes, hiss at me if you want.  We have not broken a hundred once this summer.  Even here in mid-August, we are hovering in the 80′s compared to the customarily 95+)  I am planning on an actual real garden in the next few years but only after I re-fence the back and side yard and will install raised beds that will be easier on my back to maintain.

2. Instead of my customarily can of Pepsi for breakfast (Is it any wonder I get an upset stomach about every day?), I now enjoy a mug of tea; I am not allowed to enjoy said Pepsi until at least lunch.  Much better for me and my stomach and it’s helping me cut down on my Pepsi-habit.  Yes, I know sodas, colas in particular, are very, very bad for me.  High fructose corn syrup, the phosphoric acid…we can go on and on of the evils of soda here.   I am not going to kill a 15 year Pepsi habit overnight but it’s a step in the right direction.

3. Yoga.  I use to do yoga 4-5 times a week for 30-45 minutes an evening.  For a variety of reasons, I fell out of the habit.  I’m only squeezing in 15-20 minute sessions 3 times a week.  Just doing a small amount of yoga has helped my back and my stress levels.  I realized it was doing more for me than the weekly consuelling sessions. My goal is to add at least a once a week yoga class by the end of September.

4. Going to the Farmer’s Market.  Since I have an every 2 weeks stall at the Farmer’s Market for my yarn and fiber dyeing business: The Sassy Sheep, it gives me a golden opportunity to enjoy the Farmer’s Market.  With summer in full swing, the market is bursting with local fruits and vegetables.  Yes, they are a little bit more expensive that what’s in the grocery store but oh-so-much tastier!  The stuff you get in the stores, you are very, very lucky if they were picked last week if that.  Also, many of the varieties of produce available in the grocery store is selected because it travels well and won’t rot before it hits the shelves, not for flavor.  Vendors at the Farmer’s Market can indulge in heirloom varieties that taste great but won’t survive the long haul to the grocery store.

5. Recycling: The only thing I use to recycle for years was pop cans because you could make a buck or two off them.  Now with my single status, I could save pop cans for years and probably barely pay for my gas to the recycling center.  However, the city of Idaho Falls has a recycling bin at Skyline High School.  The school gets the economics benefits of the recycling, I get the convenience of the recycling bin being just a few blocks away.  No, I don’t make a dime off it, but taking the cardboard, cans, plastic, and tin cans aren’t filling up my garbage can and I can easily drop it off when I make my weekly trip to the grocery store without worrying about making it to the recycling center before it closes.

6. Composting: In further efforts to reduce the amount of garbage I produce since Idaho Falls is seriously considering starting to charge you if you go over one 30-gallon can per week, I started a composting pile.  Composting in Idaho is challenging with our arid climate, but our organic-poor soils really, really need the composting material.  I won’t enjoy the fruits of my labor until next year, at the earliest, but now I don’t feel so bad if I let a few vegetables and/or fruits go bad in the produce bins of my fridge.

7. Sticking to a Budget:  For years, I know I made x amount of money but had no clue where it really went.  This happened for a variety of reasons that I won’t make you endure reading because it will quickly divulge into a ex rant.  I want to get out of debt and be able to take a vacation, remodel the kitchen, maybe buy a new car, without living from paycheck to paycheck.  Writing down all my bills, tracking my bank account, and setting it all down in a budget has been painful.  I never realized how much little things, going out to lunch here, buying a skein of yarn here and there and “Oh Look at This One!”, quickly adds up and gobbles up your bank account.  Once I realized I was doing some pretty serious retail therapy, I’ve been working on dealing why I did retail therapy.

8. Getting Out More: No, I don’t mean going out partying and painting the town; I mean getting out an enjoying the amazing scenic wonders and cultural events in my region.  Lots of people say Idaho Falls doesn’t have any culture;  I beg to differ: Snake River Roaring Youth Jam, the Eagle Rock Art Guild Art Show, the Greenbelt, Alive at 5, Grand Teton National Park, Yellowstone National Park, floating the Canyon of the South Fork of the Snake River, Craters of the Moon, and on and on.  Not only that, but I’ve been going out to walk my neighborhood more, finding that little neighborhood grocery store with nickel candies, the little park tucked away down what I thought was a dead end street, savoring an ice cream cone from the local dairy.

9. Making My Own: Being a knitter, I am not afraid of making things by hand.  With signing up for Bountiful Baskets, I am not enjoying the bounty of fresh produce every week.  While I’m a notorious picky eater, I dearly enjoy whipping things up in the kitchen even if I probably won’t eat it.  My co-workers, however, are really enjoying Monday morning to find out what I made this weekend.  They still think I am crazy for making stuff I won’t really eat but they are not complaining in the slightest.

10. Pre-Loved Stuff is Even Better Than New:  In the process of exorcism the ex from the house, I’ve almost completely redecorated/replaced/redid the house.  But remember, I’m sticking to the budget.  Also,  I found my tastes are always a couple years (or more) behind the trends.  The current local trend is really dark, ornate, cutesy, craftsy decor.  I lean to the vintage, off-the-beaten path, little bit exotic stuff.  Rather than pulling my hair out and spending a fortune finding new, I HEART secondhand stores; other people’s stuff for a fraction of the price!  Sadly the secondhand furniture store in Idaho Falls closed when the economy went down the tubes but I’m not afraid of the goodwill stores.  You have to be picky because there is a lot of junk but you’d be amazed at what good stuff you do find for dirt cheap.

The house hasn’t sold.  I know shocking considering the down-right sucky economy.  I finally got fed up with it all and yanked it off the market.

It’s been a huge relief to not have to keep it spotless all the time in case someone wanted to see it while I was at work.  Putting everything away so people can’t snoop through your things is emotionally draining.  My house is my castle, my private place where I can be myself.  Having to keep it ready in case Better Home & Gardens show up wanting to take pictures for next month’s cover spread is exhausting.  I had packed up most of my extra things, cookbooks, winter clothes, books, knick-knacks, just about anything I didn’t absolutely live without, I had packed up to declutter the house as much as possible.  Of course, as soon as you pack it up, all of sudden you need it RIGHT NOW!!  I hate living out of boxes.  I am not the person who still has boxes still packed after moving 3 years ago.  Everything gets unpacked and put away as soon as possible.

Second: I discovered, well maybe not discovered, just really drilled it home, I am hugely territorial.  I was constantly coming home to find things moved, lights left on, doors left open, etc, etc.  It’s just grated on my nerves.  People just because I am trying to sell my home doesn’t give you the right to treat it like a store, where you make a mess of the racks, try on a gazillion things, dump them in the dressing room, and leave a disaster for the nice clerk to clean up.  This is my home, for crying outloud!  Yes, I know you have to bend over backwards these days to sell a house, but have some common courtesy!

In the process of trying to sell the house, I realized I was selling it for two reasons: I wanted to get rid of any and all reminders of the ex and I wasn’t being happy with what I have.  I just have to face the fact that no matter how hard I try, the ex was a part of my life, for better or WORSE.  Live and learn and make sure never, ever, ever to let that happen to me again.  I spent an entire evening going from room to room with a lighted incense stick banishing the ex out of the house, telling him exactly where to go and never, ever, ever come back.  Thank you very much.  It felt ridicule at first the first two rooms, but by the third I was really getting into this banishing, telling the ex in explicit, no uncertain terms where to go and how to get there.  This is my house now.  So far it’s working; it’s been 3 weeks now and not one sudden memory popping out of the woodwork.

The last one is the hardest one for me to swallow, but one I need to nonetheless.  Is this my dream house, tucked away in the country down a tree-lined lane?  No, not even close.  But is it still a lovely house that I can and should make my own?  Yes.  Part of the biggest challenges for my divorce recovery is accepting and loving myself.  I still struggle with the knowledge I let this happen, I let a manipulative jerk trash 9+ years of my life.  And one of the biggest reasons why that happen is because I didn’t accept and love myself.  Until I love myself and be happy with what I have, I will make the same damn mistake over and over again.  This house is a reflection of that same challenge.  Is it going to happen overnight?  No, not even by a long shot.  But it will.

Now somebody please pass me a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down.

Hearing her words struck a very deep chord in me.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt beautiful before in my entire life.  Oh, I’ve heard the words from my father, but most fathers think their daughters are beautiful.  So that doesn’t really strike me as counting.  The ex would say I was beautiful but only when I was A. dressed up in some fancy gown to his taste, or B.  he wanted some, otherwise I was too plain for him.  Not exactly things to inspire me to think I was beautiful.

The mirror is no help either; nose a tad big, eyes a touch too small, and honestly, who would ever think of dark stone gray eyes as beautiful, a high forehead, a small mouth, cheekbones could stand to be a tad higher.  My only real concession to beauty is thick, waist-length hair that ranges in color from strawberry blond, chestnut, mahogany, bronze to auburn.  Oh, I’m tall with feet big enough to be used as boats.  As the family says, I stood in line twice for legs and feet but skipped the boob line all together.  But overall, I’m not causing anybody to write odes to my beauty or stop anyone on the street to stare at me.

So what does beautiful feel like?  Do you have to dress up in a designer gown, or meet someone’s outrageous definition of beauty to be beautiful?  Looking at the beauty magazines at the checkout line is no help either.  Seems you have to have the perfect outfit, the perfect accessories, this seasons’s colors for makeup and hair, not to mention the perfect body to be beautiful.  Why does it have be this way?  Why does “beauty” have to be this way?  As Jill Conner Brown says, “Beauty is only the luck of the gene lottery.”

Why can’t we be beautiful as we are?  Why can’t me in yoga pants and sweatshirt be as stunning as dollied up in a gown?  I just want to feel beautiful as I am.

The problem is I can’t itch right now.  I’ve stared at the calendar long and hard; Farmer’s Fair Markets, Fiber Fairs, the crazy dream of my house selling and moving…We won’t even begin to discuss the craziness of work.  It all makes the ability to find a free weekend next to impossible.  Oh, I have a few of the holiday weekends free but I detest traveling when everyone else is hitting the road.  I want to get away from it all and not have the whole entire world with me when I get there.

But regardless of the impossibility of it all, I still daydream jumping in my car, tossing a bag in the back and taking off.  Not entirely sure where I would go, I just want to go.  Jackson Hole, Sun Valley, Missoula, Cour D’ Alene, McCall, Bozeman, Stanley, hell, even Salt Lake City sounds great.  Just all by myself, which will be a new adventure for myself. Someone else has always come along, and I usual adore the company but right now just me, myself and I.  Not have to worry about what someone else wants to do, what time they want to go to bed or get up.

Somehow, someway, the wandering foot will get her wish.  I’m just not sure how.

But the biggest reason of all; no matter how much I change things to be a reflection of my tastes, the house will never be mine, never a reflection of me and what I want in a home.  Every corner I turn, every nook and cranny, every room I came across the ghost of the ex.  I cannot cover up his presence no matter how many layers of paint I slap on, or countless feet of moulding I nail up, rearrange the furniture to my likening, and pack off things to goodwill as much as possible.  It still reminds me of him.

When we bought the house seven years ago, I was desperate to move anywhere so long as it was out of the cold, dark, cramped basement apartment.  When the ex insisted this neighborhood after he shot down 2 other house I had wanted more, I didn’t care so long as I got out of that apartment.  Things went well for the first couple of years, the joys of homeownership and being able to keep the house after I was laid off for 6 months was enough for me.   But with the falling apart of my marriage, I realized in my desperation I had settled on the house as much as I had settled for him in my desperation to be loved.

To me, a house is refuge from the outside world.  Even with my wandering foot, I still tend to be a homebody.  (Yes, I realize my personality is a mess of extremes, trying to balance themselves out.)  When I come home, I want to be able shut the door on the world, be comfortable in my own four walls and be a reflection of what I love and who I am.  In my house, I can shut the world out, but I can’t shut the ex out.

So after much consideration, I put the house on the market so I can start looking for a place of my own where I won’t run into a ghost around every corner.

“But, Sarah, you’re too young to worry about your bucket list!” quipped a co-worker old enough to be my father.

I think not.  I don’t think you can wait too long to start your bucket list.  Too many wait to live until they are dying, nose bent blindly to the grindstone always thinking tomorrow they’ll pull out the good china, take that cruise, re-exchange marriage vows in Paris.  Yes, you should work hard in life.  It makes the good things in life all the sweeter when you know you have earned it with your own two hands.  However, I am not going to wait until I’m 60+ years old to go out and enjoy my life again.  Some of my bucket list items are the typical ones I’m sure everyone has on their list, but hell some of them are a bit out there.  I can’t die until I complete them, right?  As long as I honestly work on the list, right?

1. Own a luxury car before I die.

2. Retake that Alaska cruise and truly get to enjoy it this time.

3. Enjoy a real Wagyu steak.

4. Write a book.

5. Help put one person through college who otherwise couldn’t afford it.

6. Visit Ireland and my family’s homeland.

7. Take a vacation all by myself.

8. Visit every national park in the U.S.

9.  Dance in the autumn leaves in New England.

10. Go to Rhinebeck.

11.  Go to Sock Summit.

12. Learn to mediate.

13.  Go on a spiritual quest.

14. Drive Highway 101.  Bonus points if in said luxury car.

15. Learn to stop and smell the roses.

16. Quit worrying about what the rest of the world thinks of me.

17. Breath.

It’s hard to read, but the name of the color, Water Mark 470E-2.  Pardon me while I beat my head against the wall for a little while.

Worst damn part of this entire mess was waiting over an hour at Wal-Mart for cough syrup (thank god it’s got codeine) and the Tamiflu.  On the plus side with the flu, my appetite has taken a hike.  Hopefully it gets the message that it doesn’t need to come rushing back anytime soon.

So instead of getting the yard work done, I’m currently camped out on the couch, surrounded by tissues, medicine, tea, kitties (they make the best nurses, much better than ex-husbands), my knitting, trying very hard to keep my lungs right where they belong.  Any attempts to be productive results in a coughing fit of mega proportions.  Changing the sheets on the bed about leveled me.  We won’t even discuss the crazy idea of where I thought I could go outside and do a little yard work.  It wasn’t pretty.

About all I’m good for right now is a bath and even that might be a bit ambitious.

But a common thread to all these days is my trust is broken.  I can’t trust other people, breath easy and let my guard down, particularly men.  How can I?  The one guy I thought I knew, really knew, waited five years to marry him, took advantage of me.  I gave him the best I had to give; exposed myself to him, let him in where I’d never let anyone else before.  Somedays my best was less than others days, but he got my best for what it is worth.

How did he reward me?  He manipulated me, emotionally abused to me, twisted the truth to me, lied to me, used my money so he could have all his toys, took out and out advantage of me, put his needs before us and when he did give/do/spend time with me, used it as leverage and I was supposed to be thankful for it.

Was I perfect?  No, not even close.  I screwed up at times, made mistakes along the way, but I did give my best.  Somedays it was all I could do to put one foot in front of the other, thinking if he I just loved him better, was more forgiving, was persisted, eventually he would love me.  He was just still emotionally scarred from his childhood, and needed reassurance that I would love him no matter what.   It didn’t matter what I did.  Nothing was ever good enough; planned a romantic weekend to Jackson, the whole nine yards and he’s disappointed I didn’t find us a show for us to go to.  The cruise we went on; disappointed I was tired from jumping 5 time zones, going coast to coast in less than 48 hours.

So is it any wonder I can never trust people right now?  I gave my best and it wasn’t good enough.  I don’t know how to put together the pieces again.  I don’t know how to let down my guard.