I got in some great bike riding this weekend. I rode on the Wabash in Iowa and stayed in a little farm house in the country. I got caught on the trail long after dark. This is not something I would plan, but it was unbelievably fun. There was a small slice of a moon through the tree branches. The temperature was dropping. The woodland critters were everywhere. I could hear them scurrying off the trail and into the brush on the side of the trail as I came upon them. The town lights were a welcome sight and so was the cheeseburger and fries that I inhaled at the diner on main street.

The farm house is not used very often. The land around it is rented out and the farm house owners live in Omaha. It is outside of a little town on a gravel road behind a stand of trees. It is as adorable as you can imagine. It has become a respite for me. My friend who owns the house recognized how restorative the place is for me. He gave me an open invitation and a key to use the farm anytime I needed it. "Wealth is access," he said. I took some time to enjoy the stars and then went to bed and slept the way I do when there is no man made sound or light. (Last time I was there I mentioned the yard light to my friend. He showed me how to turn it off so that I can have complete darkness. It's like a blanket.) I slept nearly twelve hours. That seems crazy, but then I think about my week and my wild bike ride, and it makes sense.

I went to a fun group bike ride with friends in midtown Omaha. I do love Omaha. It has a great personality. We rode as a group from the area known as Aksarben (Nebraska spelled backwards - haha!) through the big downtown park by the University and then to Dundee (cute, historic neighborhood) for beer and then to Benson (cute, historic neighborhood) to meet up at the bike shop that sponsored the ride for more (!) beer.  I won a gift certificate for my costume (really I think it was just their appreciation for me coming to Omaha for a bike ride).  It is fun to be part of a big group that literally stops traffic.  People looked a little dazed as we rode by dressed in tweed - the men wore ties, the women wore skirts and there were a couple of folks in knickers.  We rang bells and waved.  The folks in the pub we stopped at cheered when we walked in.  I felt buoyed by the energy from the ride and the group.

I had some deep disappointments last week. I am frustrated that I can be lonely despite being surrounded by people. When I am careening down the trail by myself and staying in the dark countryside I do not feel lonely. I think a big difference is choosing to be alone and wanting to have a partner and being alone.

When they were little I could dress them in matching outfits - sometimes with each other or with me.  If they were having a bad morning I would zip a screaming toddler into what I wanted them to wear and carry a very angry little person to the minivan.  I would shop for them and pick what I wanted them to wear.

Those days are over.  And it is one of those times where "interesting" can mean difficult, irritating and awesome. 

My daughter's favorite outfit these days usually consists of a giant women's blouse from the Goodwill (picture polyester with polka dots or floral in a size 2x that hangs on her body to her knees).  She pairs the giant blouse with a pair of tights or leggings and a belt.  Boots.  She looks awesome and unique.  It is not a look that many of us could pull off, but you know, you're only 15 once.

My son requested a tuxedo with a morning coat.  It's for his Halloween costume (he is dressing up like the 12th (11th?) Dr. Who), but he said that he would also wear it for chorus and band concerts.  I have no doubt that is true.  Last year he wore his pinstripe suit every other week or so.  He would find opportunities to wear his suit.  And the year before that it was a vest and bow tie.  The kid likes to look sharp.  So a tuxedo it is, kiddo.  We found a few online and I told him I would order one for him this weekend.  "With tails, mom, don't forget," he said as I dropped him off at school today.

Swimming has become very important to me. It is like yoga mixed with meditation. My arms and legs stretch in opposite directions.  My arms and legs move in their sockets.  It is a full stretch and aerobic activity without weight bearing down. It is quiet.  I am only aware of my own noises - blowing out air and the occasional splash from my feet.

As I swim my laps, my mind calms.  By the second lap I have usually fixated on a memory and I pick at the memory as the details come back. I add sounds and smells to visuals. So it is not surprising necessarily that my novel is developing in the pool. I got an idea for a story a week ago.  My two main characters talked to each other in my head while I swam this morning. I smiled listening to their voices and the other parts of their story began to develop in my mind.

I climbed out of the pool and sat in the locker room writing quick notes to myself while I dripped in my pile of towels. A quick shower and off to work. I will review my shorthand tonight and fill in my ideas. The outline! She swims!

There is no pressure for this holiday. It's a weird one. Not many people get it off. What are you supposed to do to celebrate it anyway?

I made breakfast for my family, packed them all a lunch, my son and I changed his bike inner tube, and they were off! They all have school/work.

I did some cleaning, walked the dog, took a long bike ride, and went grocery shopping. I mixed up some bread dough to rise. I had a nice caprese salad on the porch in perfect fall weather. I talked to my (retired) dad on the phone. I checked the bread dough and baked cookies. I have some household chores I want to get done and then I will make veal cutlets for dinner (I usually make meatballs and pasta for Columbus Day, but my family requested something different - no problem!) with a nice sweet potato and leek gratin (thank you, North American sweet potatoes for being discovered).

There is no shopping, decorating or expectation. This is my favorite holiday - my Christmas, I tried to explain to my dad.

Got several texts this morning from her dad. He's done, or rather, his wife is done and she needs to move out. His wife is threatening to leave, and as he put it, she helps pay the mortgage.

So where does she go? I have really enjoyed NOT having her at our house. It is SO much more peaceful. It's everything - the whole house is calmer. I have really recognized that I have some PTSD when it comes to her. I can't relax. I can't enjoy her. I am just waiting for the next thoughtless, harmful incident.

I buy low calorie ice cream snacks for myself. Right now in the refrigerator there are, no kidding, FOUR BOXES of various flavors of ice cream. And my diet ice cream treats. I don't have one every day. There was a bar in the freezer all weekend. And last night I went to go eat it. It was gone. In my head I thought, oh yeah, Anna was here. I have talked to her about this issue many times. Sometimes she actually argues with me and tells me that it's stupid to get so upset about ice cream. She does not get it. Why my ice cream? Is scooping ice cream really that big a deal?

You know, if it was just the ice cream I could deal with it. But the ice cream is symbolic of what it is like to live with her in total. She is totally oblivious that ANYone else exists or has needs or thoughts. She dominates conversations. She argues about my house rules. She takes things from every member of the family - coats, food, gum, pens - if it is out then it is fair game and she doesn't even get why that is a problem.

The upside of all of this is that I am relieved to know that her dad can't handle her either. I am not the common denominator here...