Diary of a Mad Woman Gone Sane

Recently spring has been trying to happen, but winter hasn't wanted to leave. Everything is trying to bloom but winter arrives every evening. Some trees and plants survived the chill of winter while some didn't. This is the way of the presert. Lost a cat to a predator recently, and was sharply reminded that she takes what she wants. Her sister is going to have kittens soon, so life continues. The wind has been blowing like crazy, so I took the opportunity to clear some of my tumbleweeds away. All I had to do was rake them into the 80 mile per hour wind and they were gone. I'll have to do more, but I got rid of the huge ones. Unfortunately right now the wind makes it impossible to burn anything. My trash is piling up, and I'd prefer to burn the tumbleweeds. Mother Nature says no. The cacti are working on flowering and the roses are getting new leaves. My bamboo is beginning to sprout. Birds sing as they fly around the bus. New little butterflies are appearing

This is a couple days late, as it was written on Monday. Today marks a week away from the 6th anniversary of Joe's passing. This seems impossible. Joe's death feels like it was yesterday and forever ago, simultaneously. 6 years ago I was exhausted emotionally and physically. It was a Monday and the first day of spring. We used to drink beer on Mondays. I tried to have Mondays off, so we could have the day. I usually spent too much money, but those are the best days in my memory. We would talk about whatever. And laugh. Anyway on that Monday, I was up very early and I was salty. I began drinking at 8am. Our backyard was flowering and the sun was shining in on Joe's hospice bed. He spent the day staring out the window. I could feel his apprehension. He had to leave, because his body was failing but he didn't want to. I didn't want him to either. Even though I had told him that he could. My mother in law was there all day. After she left, I crawled up on the bed with h

Before Joe passed away, he lost his wedding ring, when we moved into the house. We'd always had matching rings, so I put mine away and bought new ones. They were a thick metal, steel maybe. They were inexpensive and sturdier than our gold rings. I began working in production. I lost my ring twice at work. Both times it was found, fortunately. It hurt my fingers as my peripheral neuropathy from my CMT (which will be covered later) was getting worse. I began to leave my ring in the car when I was at work and I'd put it back on when I got home. Everyone knew I had been married for many years. Sometimes I wouldn't put my ring back on, because it hurt. Joe began to suspect something. I'm sure my behavior was completely suspect, by this time, but I was distracting with work and beer and cannabis, not another man. I am not proud of my behavior, but my life as I knew it was rapidly approaching the end. I was trying to hold it all together as it was crashing down aro

The tattoo we both got the summer before Joe died  What I thought widow hood would look like and what it actually is are completely different. I never wanted to be a widow when I grew up, yet here I am. I thought I would be treated with kindness and respect. I thought people would check on me, feed my house, and ensure we were OK. Not to say that I don't have amazing people who have been there for me, because I absolutely do! And I am grateful for all of them! However the reality of being a widow has been an eye opener. I have lost contact with most of my dear husband's friends and family. I have been judged for the difficult decisions I made at the request of my best friend. Having a sick spouse you talk about death and how they want you to handle things. He had requested not to be resuscitated. He didn't want to be a vegetable. Even though I didn't want to, I let him go, the way he wanted. After 15 years I felt like a failure because he died. For all our y

            Flowers I got myself  As Valentines Day approaches, I am taken back in time. Joe showed me every single day that he loved me, and we all know that Valentines Day is the day when people who don't usually go out decide to fill the restaurants and theaters. In the service industry, it's known as the amateur hour. Joe and I would usually go out day drinking at local breweries and find a delicious meal on Valentines Day, if I got the day off, then we would go home and watch a movie. He was always good about making me feel special, especially on the important days. Our last Valentines Day was 2 years before he passed away. We had driven from Montana after attending my grandmother's funeral. We got into town late, and it began snowing. We forgot that it was Valentines Day. Every restaurant was fully booked, except for one. We were tired and hungry and we wanted to get home. I didn't feel like celebrating anything, and I didn't know that it would be

As some of you may know, it's winter in the presert. Which means dog rug time. Dogs in every space on the floor, right by the wood burning stove. Yes, dogs have been stepped on and getting anywhere is impossible in the dark. I have become a dog rug ninja. I've had up to 8 dogs in the dog rug. Winter time means almost every dog in at night. Single digits outside versus a nice toasty fire. Out of the wind. Stoking the fire in the middle of the dog rug is challenging and usually dogs must be moved temporarily. It's like dog twister, walking in the dog rug, in order to avoid stepping on any dog bodies. This is one of the few times that they all get along, because they could be kicked out. Everyone snores loudly when I'm not wading through the dog rug. I love that sound! Snoring dogs. Many don't know what it took to get here. They just know this place and nothing else. Here is their home. They protect it fiercely. And now they dream. A happy sight, the dog ru

I was raised, like many of you, with the notion that someday someone would rescue me and we would live happily ever after. I thought I had to be part of a couple. I watched my parents, and others, make unwise decisions just to be with someone. From the time I was 17 I was in a relationship. I thought I had to endure bullshit to stay in a lot of the relationships. I got to have a little bit of a fairy tale when I met Joe, but it wasn't always easy and sometimes we just didn't give up. I'm sure we both wanted to, at times. After he died, the scariest notion was to be alone forever. I quickly sought out another relationship. I was in no condition to do so, and he was unable to be Joe, but I tried to make it work anyway. That relationship just about destroyed me, however it brought me to the presert. Then I found myself alone out here. After 46 years of life, I realized that I didn't know who I was without a man. And I hated myself for being human. I had made so

The picture Joe took of me in 2017 when he helped me buy a car In 2017, just a couple months before Joe died, he cosigned a beautiful vehicle for me. Neither of us had great credit, but he could always help me get a car. Even though he had no income except for social security. Even if he had no job and I had 2 or more. Anyway, he always wanted everything for us. He was rapidly declining and legally his signature wouldn't have held up in court. I'm not completely sure he knew what he was doing, other than trying to take care of his family. His dementia had taken him mostly away, but he knew that he loved me and our son, and maybe he knew that this would be the last thing he could do for us. Since Christmas things had been unraveling quickly. I think he knew that he had to leave, but he wasn't ready, and he knew that we weren't going to be alright. Joe wanted to belong somewhere and now he did and he wasn't allowed to stay. We were approved for a newish ca

My mom recently sent me this picture of me from about 45 years ago. She found it in my grandma's prayer book. (She was a Catholic) It made me think back to this little girl. She was small and thin. She didn't smile often, because of silver caps on her teeth, thus the tightly pursed lips. Thankfully they were on her baby teeth. She was serious and contemplative, but could be silly and playful. She had a dry sense of humor. She loved who she loved, and protected those people fiercely. She was the youngest at this time. She adored her dad, her mom, her maternal grandparents and her brother. Her parents were separated by the time she was 3. She left her home when she was about 4. She was angry and scared, but she was excellent at hiding her feelings. She felt ugly and self conscious. She hated what she saw in the mirror, especially her hair. She was awkward and clumsy. She was already a badass, though, she didn't know that yet. She was intelligent and sharp witted.

Funny how we start a fairy tale with once upon a time. This is not a fairy tale, but I definitely got to have my knight in shining armor. He never saw himself that way, and he might not have known that he saved me, but he did. He didn't see his incredible magic,  and I didn't always appreciate it, but it was always there. I can't tell you when I stopped believing, but it was early in my life. My life seemed to be challenging from the beginning, but I am strong. Ridiculously strong. I don't know where that comes from either, yet I have it. I identify with ants. It seems that I can endure the inconceivable and stand again, seemingly unscathed. Of course, I have incurred permanent reminders of the harshness of life and people, but I have somehow managed to thrive, like a flower growing through concrete. I count myself fortunate to have survived, and for my mighty spirit. I come from a very long line of badasses.  When I met Joe, I had given up on ever having happily ever a

Very recently, unfortunately, we lost a member of the dog pack. Zoey Bear, who I just wrote about and who just turned 2, passed away. Quite unexpectedly, she got into mouse poison and was gone in 3 days. We are all heartbroken. She was born at my house, along with her brothers and sisters. 8 in total. I immediately fell in love with her. She was my smallest dog with the biggest heart. She was my cuddle bug. She loved attention. To me, she was a sweetheart. She was a bully to any dog smaller than herself. She let Luna and Roxy, her sister from a previous litter, pick on her. Her tail was like a propeller. She was a happy girl.  Life feels different for all of us. Like something is missing. It seems as though the dogs are looking for her. I did something I've never done before. I buried her myself. It was so difficult. It made it so final, but I can visit her everyday. I cry. I tell her that I miss her. I don't have any idea what happens when we die, but I know that she had an aw

Move on, they say. Go live your life. Get a man. Let go. I have no idea what any of this means. The old me didn't do feelings, except for the few people who got to see inside me. I cannot fill the void in my soul with things or people. My only option is to heal. To grow around the gaping hole, maybe shrinking it slightly, but never making it not be there. I am building a new life and a new me. I have no other choice. Moving on, no. Moving forward, yes. The loss of him ripped my life apart. Removed the very foundation on which I'd built my existence. Suddenly I had no purpose. I'm so grateful that many of you don't understand, but please know that you don't understand. Don't provide advice, as you don't know. I have always been strong and faked it until I made it at times, but I don't have to keep a stiff upper lip anymore. It is time for the truth. No more need to pretend that everything is alright. I didn't have any idea what would happen next. His

pictured is my leg brace, known as an AFO, to support my ankles and legs In 2012, I broke 3 bones in my foot, 3 toes, and ruptured my Achilles. I had twisted my foot walking and all of me came down on my foot. I got to ride in an ambulance for the first time ever. My foot was numb and I turned down the offers of pain medication. Shortly after, I had my foot repaired. The toes they couldn't fix. And we were unaware of the ruptured Achilles. I didn't walk for 5 months, even after months of physical therapy. I was unable to put my right foot down. Due to my lack of judgment I rushed to return to work. I had begun to experience burning in my foot early after breaking it. The doctor had no idea what was going on. He tested me for diabetes. I healed up the best I could, working full time and being a mom and wife/caretaker. In 2013, I had my Achilles repaired. Shortly after, I was diagnosed with Charcot Marie Tooth, CMT. This was the cause of the burning in my foot. I was

With the holidays approaching, and recent changes I've decided to make to this holiday season, I felt that I should share it with all of you. First, I will share with you that I have always hated the holidays. Growing up there was tension and fighting usually, and everyone trying to pretend that our house was filled with love. Of course, unfortunately, that wasn't the reality. My favorite childhood memories took place at my grandparents house, however that usually meant that I had to get on an airplane. Also, not one of my favorites. I met Joe and he loved the holidays, and he would try to guess what his presents were, even before our son was born. He would cook elaborate meals and I would bake while Christmas music or movies played in the living room. We would generally spend more money than we should have, and everyone in the house would feel spoiled. Joe loved making the holidays as special as possible, and I would do my best to be happy. Which was nearly impossible, but I d

Roxy, in the middle, with her sons Roxy is my third eldest dog. She was born at my buddy's house, who also lives off grid. She shares a mom with Zoey,  but they look nothing like each other. She was born a runt, but no one informed her of that. She ran the litter. She is my second smallest dog, but she plays with the big dogs like she's one of them. Roxy is one of the strangest dogs I've ever owned. She slept in the bus until about 4 months old and she has been an outside dog ever since. Self-appointed guard dog weighing in at around 55 pounds. I call her my supermodel dog. She is slender and tall. Various shades of brown with white spotted feet and a white belly. It took her a while to let me pet her and now she greets me at the door. She is a travel size animal, but she doesn't want to go anywhere. Her eyes are yellow and her tail spins like a propeller when she wags it. She has endured every type of weather out here. She is an intelligent dog, but she is

Someone asked me recently what off grid means. If you know already feel free to skip this post. Or feel free to read it. I'm sure the person who asked me is not the only person who doesn't know what it means. I have 3000 watts of solar power. This might sound like a lot of power, but it's really not. I don't run most of the things that are found in a house. I have to shut off things I'm not using. The only thing that is always on is my small fridge. I limit my TV time and don't have it on for noise. I listen to music on my phone, most of the time. I have to take care of my own trash disposal. I have to take care of my own bathroom disposal. That's a gross job, and my least favorite. I can't get an ambulance to come out here, because of the roads. When it rains, I wait to leave my house until it dries up a bit. I live on an unmaintained dirt road that turns into quicksand when it gets wet. People get stuck out here quite often. I don't yet have runnin

Now is the time of year when you wear shorts during the day and can't stop sweating,, then think about starting a fire at night. Fall is here, but she is only making an appearance at night. Summer still owns the daytime. Personally I'm looking forward to cooler weather. It's been a long hot dry summer, until the monsoons arrived. This year we had a legit monsoon season. Flash floods, lightning and thunder. Lots of rainbows this monsoon. It's been too long since we've had so much rain. I'm always grateful for the free water from the sky. This year is the first time I've had a green yard. Mostly weeds, but green nonetheless. I have little trees sprinkled around the property. I will be getting everything ready for the impending winter. This is the season where the men are separated from the boys. Winter can be difficult out here in the presert. Most people that come out here don't stay through the winter, or the summer, for that matter. This is my 5th winte

First of all, I apologize for being so sporadic in posting. I'm preparing for winter. I have learned not to get caught with my pants down when it comes to winter. It's October 3rd, 2020. My good friend and his very pregnant dog, Red, are staying at my house. Something I never expected to do again was to have puppies. I had golden retriever puppies when I was in the military as a 20something. Wasn't interested in doing it again. Red produces 8 beautiful large puppies on this day, under a camper I had. My friend crawled under the camper, retrieved all 8 puppies, and handed them to me. We took them into the camper and Red finally followed, grudgingly. It was getting chilly at night but they weren't ready for the school bus yet. She was a great mother but she had to be able to get out. If it was warm enough I could leave the door open. At night I'd leave the door cracked so Red could go on a walkabout. I got to pick a puppy from the litter. I chose Zoey. She

I suppose I should better describe the monsoon season for those of you who might not live somewhere that has monsoons. This year was a proper monsoon season, unlike any I've experienced lately. I've lived in Arizona about 3 decades, off and on. I keep trying to leave, and just keep coming back. Anyway, back to the monsoons. Everyday for 2 months I get notified that there's a flash flood in my area. One of two things will occur; no rain except for all around me on not at all, or the floodgates of hell will unleash its wrath from above. The sky suddenly becomes dark and the air becomes humid and thick. The air becomes heavy prior to the storm. Almost as if Earth's gravity has changed. It's recommended that all travel is limited. In my younger years, I'd be willing to drive when there's a flash flood warning. However, today I do my very best not to. I try to wait until the road is drier, if possible. This year roads became flooded in minutes. Rain f

Many years ago, my dear husband mentioned wanting to move off grid after our son was done with high school, following some travel around the United States, at least. I couldn't see myself living off grid and figured this was probably some delusional thought on his part. I am not an outdoor type of person. I don't hate the outdoors, but it's just not part of my personality. I don't hunt, fish, camp. I do love hiking and nature, but I'm barely qualified for the off grid life. I've had to learn on the fly, ask for advice and help, figure out things I had zero experience with, and googled a great many topics. I've learned that my brain works in a different way than what is required for this life. I've learned about wood burning stoves and wood. I've learned about propane, about solar, about snakes, about bugs, about things I never wanted to know about. I have  backup food, propane, wood, and water. I don't run out of anything. Always have

I have always seemed to live in places where there is cattle. Maybe, because they're everywhere. I have been to farms and enjoyed mostly the baby animals. Who doesn't love babies? I have never lived with them nearby. I'm a city kid who knows people with farm animals. I live on open ranch land, so I usually have cows wondering around my place. They've not gotten close until recently. One day I went outside and noticed cows in my yard. I had no idea what to do. I know how destructive they can be. I made noise and yelled at them to leave. They didn't budge. Among the cows were 2 large bulls. One of them began chomping on a black cherry tree that I'd just planted. I banged on a trash can lid I have. The cows and calves started to move on, but the bulls stayed. One of the bulls was right by my fence, stepping on everything and driving the dogs insane. I finally called the rancher and asked him to come get the bulls out of my yard. Within a half hour, some

Luna Jade is my next oldest after Kiwi. I was selling out on the Navajo Nation for the first time. A girl walked by with a tiny puppy,  so I asked her where she got it. The girl directed me to a girl in the bed of a truck with a singular black puppy. I told her I'd take the puppy. Then the girl who had the other puppy came back and said she wanted the puppy I was holding, until she found out she was a female. I preferred a female dog. At this point, I only had Kiwi. She was tiny, 2 or 3 weeks old. I was told that she was a black lab/pitbull. I got her milk and canned puppy food. She fit in my hands. Her eyes were still blue. She slept with me. I'd set her next to Kiwi and Kiwi would move away from her. Emo cat was bigger than her and they'd both sleep under the wood burning stove. It was still chilly in April. Luna was born sometime in March, so I made her birthday March 20th which was a full moon. She loves the full moon. In fact, she usually stays outside all

The eldest of my pack is Kiwi. She is my ride or die. She's 9 years old. I've been hers and her mine since she was 6 weeks old. She bit my nose the day I got her. I knew that she was going to be my dog. She chose me. The people who gave her to me called her sassy, which is still appropriate to this day. She is my first sassy dog. The one who started it all. Probably the reason why my dogs are all a bit sassy. Upon coming into our lives, she decided that she was to be our guardian. She is named Kiwi because she has fur the color of a kiwi fruit and she had green eyes. She is an Australian Shepherd and Blue Heeler. She is one of the smartest dogs I've ever met. She smiles. She is very protective and has endured many difficult times. Living with Joe and watching him go was hard for her. She became hypervigilant over me and my son. For many years, she was afraid. She didn't sleep soundly for years. Today she is the grand dame. Grandma Kiwi. She is surrounded by

Since it is monsoon season here in the presert, I had a full blown storm last night. Complete with wind, rain, thunder and lightning. That being said, today I play my favorite game, pick up my belongings that are now spread all over the place. The wind likes to play too, so she will fling light objects out of my grasp or throw sand in my eyes. She is a mischievous resident of the presert. I count this as my exercise for the day. I've been out here for quite some time, so I don't have to chase down as many things as I did in the beginning of my adventure here. I still have to play. Things that haven't moved in months are suddenly rolled across the ground or thrust into the air only to land somewhere in the distance. This used to take me an hour or two. A couple miles of walking. Today I got in about 20 minutes and not much walking. I guess it's a good time to pull my weeds, maybe. And with 7 dogs, I definitely see sweeping in my near future. I'm happy to play this ga

22 years ago today I married the father of my child, my best friend, my partner in crime, my love. We promised forever, through everything. We were going to grow old together. Sitting on a porch swing, watching grandchildren play. Heads full of gray hair and faces wrinkled with many years of laughter and tears. However that wasn't the reality. The last anniversary we shared was our 16th. He was gone only months before our 17th anniversary. We shared 20 years together. We endured much sickness due to Joe's multiple sclerosis. We had many wonderful times and many horrible times. Somehow we made it work through all of it. Today I have gotten through 6 wedding anniversaries without him. I miss him greatly on this day. We were supposed to have forever. I am so grateful for the time I got, but I wanted more. I wanted forever. Today is a tough day, but I'm going to get through it. Much love, Ceeeej 

In February 2021, I had taken a trip to Colorado. I had a neighbor taking care of my 4 dogs. I arrived home in early March, and discovered an inquisitive fuzzy golden colored puppy, about 3 months old. I called my neighbor and asked him about the dog. He said that she just showed up one day. She was friendly and curious. Apparently the girls had allowed her to stay. They were fence free back then, because they didn't go far. I noticed her collar was tight, so I removed it. Thankfully I have tiny fingers. I noticed her belly had several cuts, and she was very skinny. She had a wildness to her and she liked everyone. She instantly won my heart and I named her Lucky. Less than a month later, Roxy had 2 little boys. On April Fool's. I named them Dude and Little Brother. I decided to keep them both, and suddenly I had 7 dogs. Roxy was a fantastic mother, but very soon she was over them and I moved them into the bus. She is an outside dog, by her choice, but she would pee

A young child disappears around 5pm on  Monday June 24, 1946, days before her 3rd birthday. She lives near the Flynn ditch in Missoula, Montana. She was born in Hawaii, where her father was stationed and her mother was born and raised. A beautiful blonde child with curls and an angelic face. Her father, along with the sheriff and the police, search tirelessly for days. While her mother waited at home. Praying that her child and her husband would return safely. The police didn't think that she had been kidnapped, but they didn't rule it out. They received some anonymous tips regarding a vehicle at a nearby service station that had been seen around the same time as the child's disappearance. On Sunday July 7th, 1946, a man that worked on the ditch found her. What a horrible day that day must have been for her parents, even worse than the days leading up to her being found. She had been missing for nearly 2 weeks. Her father, my grandfather, and her mother, my gran

In 2018 I was diagnosed with complex PTSD. I had no idea what that meant and I didn't understand how it happened. I wasn't in combat, so how could I have PTSD and what did the complex part mean. I had developed complex PTSD from a lifetime of trauma. My entire life was a reaction, because of the traumas. I was unaware that I had been drug around my life by PTSD. I didn't know what to do next. I had just lost my husband. Suddenly I couldn't "manage" my PTSD any longer. I was unable to be in crowds without a panic attack. I was overrun with anxiety. I felt out of control and broken. I'd been so high functioning for so long and now I could barely leave my house. I'm not the type of person who seeks help, especially from head shrinkers, psychologists. I had no other choice. This was too big for me. I couldn't do it alone. I believed that I was irreparable and that the traumas were my fault. I felt like I would be forever damaged. Add on to the PTSD, co

A few days ago, a friend of mine said that inside of the house is a woman's domain and the outside is a man's. And then, another friend said that there's man jobs and woman jobs at their house. This got me thinking. When Joe was alive there wasn't things he did and things I did, exclusively. He took care of our son. He did laundry. He cooked. He cleaned. We were a team, a partnership. Of course, strength wise, there's things I just can't do. However, living in the presert, there are a lot of things I have to do. I don't get to say I won't do it because it's a man's job. I've been told that I'm supposed to be barefoot and pregnant, raising babies and taking care of my husband. Fortunately for my family, I was more than willing to be the breadwinner, when Joe became unable to work. I worked hard to make sure my family had food, shelter, clothing, video games, etc. I am a decent cook, but Joe loved to cook and he was exceptional at it. Every

It's finally spring in the presert! You know how I know? The weather isn't really a good indicator, because it's still chilly especially at night. And the wind is blowing most of the time. Everything is turning green underneath the yellow. The pronghorn antelope are back, some with new babies. There are more birds out and about. We have ravens all year, so it's good to see something else. Once again the bugs are slowly becoming greater in numbers. Little baby bunnies can be seen. Wildflowers are beginning to pop up and my trees are starting to get leaves. The rancher has calves among his herd. It's still too cold in the school bus to start seeds, so I wait patiently. I've learned the mistake of starting seeds too early and losing everything. This is what I call fake spring. Colorado has it too, and so does Montana. It bridges the gap between winter and summer. It might rain or snow or hail, you never know. It's in the 70s and 80s during the day,