Strange to think this is the best Thanksgiving I will have had so far-Paul and I are together and very happy-Fox is talking to me again-Mozart and Gonzo are still in the family. So many blessings, so many wonderful miracles to be thankful beyond the ability to articulate!

It started snowing yesterday, we have an inch or two on the ground with much more to come in the next days. Paul and I have the wood stove in the parlour cranking out the heat. LOL, he calls it a lounge, but it's not, trust me-it's not a room we hang out in, it's a room where we warm our backsides, peer out the front window , and then head back to the real lounge-Paul's study!

Paul's study, a corner of which I have glommed for my own until we can have the window in our spacious bedroom fitted with a new double glazed window. Paul's study, which doubles as the lounge, guest room, and for this winter owing to the window situation, our bedroom. Every night we pull the futon out and every morning we fold it back up.

We have a lovely routine. We wake by around 0600. I start the kettle, he lights the stove in the parlour. I make toast, tea, and coffee (for a Brit, he sure likes coffee. For a Yank, I sure like tea). We check the website he and a friend started here in the UK after LATOC went dark:



We read the news. We check our diaries-any appointments today? We decide if we need to go into town, decide which are pressing chores (food, laundry, firewood) and which are not (painting the kitchen, bathroom, parlour).

I'm sitting in my corner of the study, watching snow flurries and sipping orange-pekoe tea. I have pressing chores today, the first of which is to dig out the huge two person shopping carry-all, and go into town for the semi-annual toilet paper run. We'll bundle up thick-snow, after all is cold, and wet. We'll trudge merrily through the snow to the Lidl, where I hope to find sufficient quantities of toilet paper to get us through until at least May; we'll load said supply into the carry-all and trudge back through town to our house.

Where I'll put the kettle on, and Paul will restart the fire.

I need to get the kitchen curtains finished today, and maybe the bathroom curtains as well-shouldn't be too much of a chore to get the bathroom ones done, but the kitchen set is turning out to be quite the chore.

And sometime today I need to call my son, to wish him a Happy Thanksgiving, and call the sewing machine mechanic to schedule a drop-off of my latest charity shop find-a 1970 made in Scotland-all metal Singer Straight-Stitch 449!

We have a bunch of charity shops in our little town and the managers know us by name, especially at the British Red Cross shop where we have found the most amazing things with which to furnish our home on a strict budget.

The latest find cost us £20 ($31.55) which is an exceptional bargain-the sewing machine is one of the best and most simple of the 'vintage' Singer machines, and can be converted to a treadle machine at the wrap of a belt-should the grid go down I will be able to provide for us financially by taking in sewing.

Mr. Lindsay will go over it with a fine tooth comb, and I will do a lot of sewing on it! I do have another sewing machine here-also a vintage Singer, a 1978 Singer 513 Zig-Zag, also a charity shop find, and brought into perfect order by the aforementioned Mr. Lindsay. But something about this simple little 449 straight-stitch really appeals to me. It also came installed into a sewing cabinet-OMGsh, £20 for all that!!

NOTE: The difference between an antique Singer, and a vintage Singer is that an antique is one of those lovely black beauties made from 1848 until 1920. The vintage are the ones that came after that, and go through to 1980. After 1980, lol, they are just old, and you rarely see them as they went nearly all plastic gears by then, and cost more to repair than to replace. UGH-planned obsolescence.

We are simplifying our life, and it is a wonderful life. Thank-you, God.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Update on Mozart and Gonzo-they will more than likely be moving to Southeast Alabama this weekend or next to live with...

MY SON FOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sunday morning I woke up to find an email from my son's friends who have been keeping me updated on Fox these long and horrible years of our estrangement-Fox wanted them to give me his phone number so that I could call him if i wanted.

If I wanted!

It took me until last night to screw up the courage to ring, and I tried to time the call to coincide with his work schedule in hopes of reaching his voice mail. the friends suggested I take it very slow and carefully, so I was planning to leave a simple "Hi it's Mom, I love you, here's my email address" and then hang up quick.

He answered the phone. He said "Hi Mom!" We talked. He got a lot of amusement from hearing his new stepfather is a fellow I met online, and was concerned that Paul might be an "Internet weirdo" OMGsh, he cares!!

He asked me to email him pictures, he said he would do the same, and asked if I had a web cam so we could vid chat. he said he's coming over this spring or summer and looks forward to seeing Paul and me.

And just before we rang off, he said, in a matter of fact and natural way, "I love you too, Mom!"

We've been crunching numbers, searching websites, making phone calls-I cannot, CANNOT, give up on Mozart and Gonzo!

It looks as though we may be able to work something out with a friendly vet in the States and get the cats over much sooner after all-never say never is a new phrase I'm taking as a mantra until the crates carrying my two precious furbabies comes through the door!

Poor Mozart and Gonzo, I hate that they'll have to take that long flight, but I hate even more that I dreamt of Mozart flinging himself back into the woods, and Gonzo sitting in the middle of the lane in front of The Tin Shack meowing...

I made the most difficult decision yet yesterday-I had to admit I will not be able to bring Mozart and Gonzo over to the UK, and I began the hunt for a new home for my two beloved cats.

Oh God, it is shredding me. I feel as though I betrayed a trust-they both found me, forced their way into my heart, and now, due to finances and most importantly, the length of time it will take to get them over and through all of the many hoops the UK requires to bring un-chipped animals over, I am having to give them up.

If a domestic animal is not chipped already, the UK requires it be chipped and rabies vax'd at the same time-the timing on Mozart and Gonzo's rabies shots are such that it will be a year before I can even ship them.

By the time I can bring them over they will have been in foster care for nearly a year and a half.

If I'd known that this was going to happen I would have chipped them, I didn't because of all of the horror stories about the chips causing cancer.

I came across with two small suitcases and a rolling laptop bag-I sold everything I owned (and won't be getting the payments from the person I owner-financed even started until May '11.

And now my beloved Mozart and Gonzo will not be joining me in the UK.

Not a good day for me, but especially not for them. I may not be blogging for a while, I feel so awful about losing those two dearest friends on top of losing my son (still no contact from Fox) that I am not really up to blathering on about my happy new life in Scotland.

Oh Mozart, oh my Mozart!

I cannot believe that it has been a month since I loaded two suitcases in the rental car and drove myself to the Atlanta airport, it feels as though I have always been here yet just arrived, too.

Of course I'd packed the night before, and knew the checked bag was going to be overweight just by hefting it. I went online (thank-you BlackBerry and AT&T, you got me through those last crazed American Dayz!) so when I found out how much the overweight charge was going to be (over $200) I stopped at Target on my way out and bought another bag-saved $100+ that way) and shifted the load.

I got to the airport and turned in the car, got on the airport train, and made my way to the boarding area. BTW, I cannot recommend online pre-boarding and baggage check-in highly enough-doing that made the entire 23 hour trip much easier!

Went through Security...again, online research made that ordeal somewhat less of one. I dutifully pulled my Zip-Lock 3-1-1 bag and laptop from my carry-on (OMGsh, the rolling laptop bag was a total lifesaver!), clutching my passport and boarding pass (with my other papers handy in the front flap of the laptop bag), I slipped off my shoes (another thank-you to online research, I chose to wear quickly removed shoes) and lined up with my fellow International passengers.

The line moved quickly. The agents were politely impatient with those of us travelling for the first time under the new laws after 9/11 and we inched along until it was my turn in the screening cage. I planted my feet on the marks, raised my arms as requested by the agent, and promptly set off a silent alarm.

"Single female of Middle-Eastern appearance with metal at the middle!" I heard the phrase repeated by several agents, and as I was directed to stand in a separate area from my fellow travellers I looked around for the interesting female...

Erm, finally figured out I was the interesting female when I was surrounded by several agents who briskly waved several wands at my middle, and I said to the one agent who dared to make eye-contact with me that I had a row of three metal waistband hooks holding up my linen slacks. For a nano-second I thought about lifting my blouse hem to show her but decided against it, probably a wise decision.

I passed muster and was permitted to move along to an area where I could retrieve my passport, boarding pass, laptop, and 3-1-1 bag, LOL, all the while thinking, Wow, Middle-Eastern appearance? Must be a slow Security day!

My flight was called, I boarded, and as we circled the Atlanta Metro area, I looked down at where I'd spent the last five years and yes, cried a little.

Not that I was nostalgic about leaving Atlanta, although the people of the area were actually rather wonderful to me, but because I knew this was Step One in my leaving the US for a completely different life...

Chicago was pretty neat. I had to ride a train to my terminal, wend my way through several sets of connecting hallways, plus find something to eat and a place to smoke a couple of cigarettes before getting on plane for Sweden. I managed all of that, finding myself listening to the sounds of Chicago-O'Hare Airport from the baggage area outdoor (but of course) smoking area.

My last experience on American soil. I called S_D of course first thing after the plane landed in Chicago, even before I found the smoking area, but standing outside listening to the taxi drivers bantering, the radios blaring, and the gossiping Airport Authority employees on break, was curiously nostalgic and I found myself thinking that it was somehow perfect that the last American place I was at, was Chicago.

People say that New York City is THE American City, but NYC is so cosmopolitan it could be any big cosmopolitan European city.

Chicago IS America in a way that I am unfortunately unable to articulate, I'm sure far better wordsmiths have found a way.

And then, off to Stockholm.

Because I'd done all of that online research prior to the trip, I knew that to avoid jet-lag I should stay up the entire 24 hour period before the embarkation. Which I did, so falling asleep on the long flight across the Atlantic was far easier than many people would believe.

However, first we had a drink and snacks, and enjoyed watching the CCTV that treated us first to the scenes of the baggage being loaded, the take-off, the flight...Yes, movies were available, but I chose to tune my personal screen (built into the seatbacks, amazing things those) to the CCTV.

I was able to choose from several exterior camera views of the flight. Um, I do not recommend the run-way shots if you are at all nervous on take-offs and landings. Also, once you get over the Atlantic, if flying at night there just isn't a lot to see. Our afternoon flight path took us over land until Nova Scotia, we then jumped across to Greenland, from there to New Zealand...but by then I was fast asleep and missed nearly all of the amazing view.

However, before I could become SOUND asleep, the lovely flight attendant forced me to accept a dinner tray (when you fly Economy, you have little choice in the dinner tray menu) of herring so strongly fragrant I thought I was going to need the airsick bag.

OMG, OMG, OMG! What had I got myself into??!! Hadn't S_D asked me how I liked my herring? OH NOES, would I ever taste BEEF again?!

In Stockholm I found the smoking kiosk (OK, I like the Swedes, very nice people, but oh wow, those smoking kiosks are really awful despite the ventilations) after buying a pack of Swedish Marlboros, then found my gate and planted myself.

I sat there listening to the comforting and familiar Scottish voices, I sat there watching the comforting and familiar Scottish, Welsh, and English faces.

I found myself thinking I'd found myself in a most peculiar position-The American Going Home To The Land Of Her Parents-in America I'd been told all too often that I had a faint British accent (acquired thanks to my dad's habit of employing 'folks from home' and his insistence that his children grow up speaking properly) yet through-out my trip I'd been told I had the most charming American accent...suddenly the woman with the famous Nerves Of Steel was becoming more nervous at the total insanity of just what the hell I was doing.

The trip across the North Sea Did. Not. Help. So bloody turbulent I thought the flight attendant was going to throw-up, or cry, or scream. Sleeping was at best more of a doze and an uncomfortable one at that.

And finally we descended too fast (oh, my poor ears) and then we were making our way through Customs.

Where I was grilled by a Border Agent intent on reminding me that I must leave Britain in accordance with my trip plans, and wanting to know just how I'd met S_D (she was singularly unimpressed when I told her we'd met online in a current events forum, and was further unimpressed by my answer to her "You didn't come to Britain to fall in love did you?" was "Well, it would be kinda nice" followed my a big cheeky gap-toothed grin...), she seemed to feel better when I told her the amount of funds I had to spend as An American On Holiday In Great Britain.

But finally I was granted a six-months visitor visa, and was dragging my two rolling suitcases and little rolling laptop bag through the gates to S_D.

I was intent on getting outside-that Border Agent scared the pure hell out of me and I was therefore totally afraid to greet S_D warmly. I tried to signal with my eyes that I felt we were being watched by every Border Agent in the Edinburgh Airport, and begged to get outside...not the best face-to-face beginning, I think.

But we've managed, lol. I think he's going to keep me. It seems I passed a serious test last night at a small dinner party with a couple he's been friends with for years.

I'm keeping track of the goings on in the US, and frankly don't want to have to go back to await a fiancee visa-things are becoming worse there by the day. Of course, as I've been saying for years, this whole collapse thing is global-things in Scotland are difficult as well as in the US. But where I was in the US is not a place I want to be ever again-going to sleep every night with S_D is a tremendous comfort I cannot ever again do without.

Waking up with him every morning is indescribably comforting in these uncertain times, having someone to talk to and with is just the most amazing thing!!

Now to get Mozart and Gonzo across-Gracie has found a furever home with her carer, but my little feline furballs should be here by Christmas.

I miss my son and grandson, but I did from Atlanta, what's four thousand miles when you are estranged anyway?

First, news from the new homefront-things continue to go well with us.

We are having a wonderful time adjusting to living with someone else after so many years as singles-it is somewhat amazing to me the things that don't bother me, lol! The towels on the floor, the uncapped toothpaste, the incredibly messy kitchen after he cooks, and of course his personal laundry strewn from front to back doors.

All the things men do that used to drive newly wedded women insane-the tools in the living room, the hunt for the house keys...WHO THE HELL CARES, AND WHY IN THE HELL WAS ALL THAT SUCH A BIG DEAL IN THE LAST MARRIAGE?! (Well, it just was-I sure do not want the ex back, shudder the thought, I'll happily pick-up after Slow_Dazzle:)

I keep saying this in private email to a friend back in the States-I am incredibly happy at last. So naturally I have some things to think about, especially this morning.

The UK is five hours ahead of the US time zone I once called home (North-West Georgia), but it is the same morning there as I am typing this blog entry-it is the morning of the ninth anniversary of 9/11. Oh God.

I woke up that morning feeling surrounded by a palpable hatred of the US, seriously felt as though an entity was standing at the foot of my bed pouring out hate towards me personally but as I pondered the peculiar feeling I realised the hatred was really directed toward the US. I got out of bed, pulled on a dressing gown and went downstairs to start water for chocolate (never have learned the tea or coffee habit, I've always started my day with a cup of hot chocolate).

That hideous morning I never made it to the kitchen.

I came down the stairs into the living room and turned on the tv; as I walked toward the little galley kitchen I turned to look at the screen and saw the first tower falling, a huge red LIVE blazoned across the CNN feed. I fell to my knees knowing TSHadJustHTF.

I tried reaching my son, then working as a clerk at the local BooksAMillion, the phones didn't answer. I tried reaching several people that awful morning, but one person I didn't think to call was my cousin John, by then already dead along with his co-passengers on Flt 11...

The phone did ring-but it had rung while I was still upstairs and the phone switched off, and my friend Joey's last message went to voice mail.

The man with pancreatic cancer, whom I'd gallows humour joked to that he would be hit by a bus before he died of the cancer. He was in the South Tower (he'd told me the day before he had an appointment the next morning with his lawyer to finish the last details on his will), making his way down the stairs with his lawyer, calling to ask me to make sure that his will was carried out.

"Something's happened here, a couple of planes have hit the complex. I'm going down the stairs but it doesn't look too good, the smell of gas is really strong...Make sure the off-campus back-up went through, OK, make sure those scholarships happen."

They never made it out. The off-campus back-up did go through, though, and there are several young men and women who've had a chance at an education thanks to Joey. An orphan, a businessman, he tried to leave his small fortune to do some good, providing an education to other orphans seemed a really good idea to Joey.

Oh God, how I miss him! I think he would have liked Slow_Dazzle.

Times like these, I feel as though I bailed on the US. I swore to defend and protect the Constitution, and I've gone four thousand miles from that promise.

Dazz is off on a business consult so I stayed in and am going to be getting some things done around the house...first thing is minding the fire.

We tested the newly installed wood stove day before yesterday-utterly lovely and heats far better than the old central gas system. We were very comfortable yesterday and last night, waking to a lovely chill-less house this morning! As the day is forecast to be as chilly as yesterday, I volunteered to give up the outing for the chore of keeping the home fire burning.

Besides, the poor man hasn't been off on his motorbike since I arrived nearly two weeks ago and I could see the longing in his face, lol! Ooooo, he looks soooooooooo sexy in his leathers, too!

So, the sweaters are in the wash, the 'investment cooking' of a lovely large casserole is split into portions and put into the fridge, and I'm keeping the fire going. Hmmm, let's see, what else...

I want to organize his cupboard, cut out some patterns because frankly I'm running out of clothing, and I want to start a crochet scarf for me-OMGsh Scotland is already experiencing a frost!! I also want to clean the cooker-the Scottish way to say stove-bloody hell bachelors can be blind!

Also hoping to run the vacuum, but I am not sure about the mechanism, I'll have to study it, Scottish vacuums look like American wet-dry vacs but I'm reasonably sure there does indeed exist a difference.

To Zippy, Sadie, and the rest of the crew, not sure when Mozart, Gonzo, and Gracie will be able to join us. I have to have my spousal visa and it is looking as though the process may take longer than expected to include the very real possibility that I may have to return to America for a few months-OH NOES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Other than that, settling in nicely. It is very strange to be doing so, what is the matter with me that I'm not suffering more homesickness? I do miss Mozart and his fur-sibs, I woke up missing my Ginger Boy terribly this morning.

Something interesting, the church here rings the bells on the hour. WOW, now that is nice!!

We have the plumber in-he will be removing all of the gas lines so that we can begin using the new wood stove for heating. GOOD-I'm bloody freezing and it's only the end of August. We've fired up the portable gas heater the last few nights to take the chill off, and it helps, but we'll need the heat on full time soon, and it will be a great help to have the gas lines gone. The cost of gas just keeps rising...

S_D hired a car for my first week here so that we could go around to the places he most wanted me to see, and it's been a lovely week. We turned the car in yesterday and rode the bus home from the town he hired the car in, and that was fun too! The buses are clean, convenient, and damned handy!

While we had the car we went around to several of the MUST-SEE sites, Montrose, Castle Dunnattor (where he called me a few months back and told he he finally had to admit he was falling in love with me), Elgin, the Highlands, and we paid our respects at his mother's grave.

In Dundee we visited the McManus Museum where we were privileged to view a Titian masterpiece, and hundreds of other magnificent pieces of the collections there. Scotland is an unsung art treasure trove, I've seen more great works in the short week that I've been in the country than I ever saw in The States. I only exagerate a little, truly.

We are now living the life we will be living for what I pray are years to come-we walk to the shops, all close by, and if we need to go into a larger town for supplies or entertainment, the best bigger town is a short bus ride away, at a reasonable price.

Life here is better for me given my preferences for something simpler-I don't miss owning a car, I don't miss the mega shopping centers I knew in the States, and I fer damn sure don't miss the NOISE! I don't miss the vandalism, the litter (OMGsh the Scots are clean people!), and I haven't heard one scrap of rap music since I've been here.

The butcher, baker, and a few very nice small groceries round out our food needs; the past few days we've finished furnishing the house for far under £300 thanks to all of the really nice secondhand shops, and that just amazes the hell out of me-we found such lovely furnishings for the house (a suite for the lounge, a room better known in the States as a living room) dining table and chairs, and a gorgeous chest of drawers for me.

We live just down the lane from a beautiful park, and less than a half mile from the loch where we pick blackberries for a snack as we walk around it for exercise. We'll go back in a week or so with bags to pick enough berries to put up for winter treats. I want to find the raspberries S_D thinks grow nearby, too-I've become hooked on the little red darlings!

The house is shaping up, LOL, S_D is SUCH a bachelor he had no clue the taps in the bathroom need replacing! We are having new carpeting put in the lounge-hopefully before the suite is delivered Wed week, and after the paint is finished.

The garden is going to be a fun project, we have room for veggies, a fantastic place for the compost heaps, and I even have a space for the rose garden and a small sitting-entertainment area. I've managed to convince (wasn't hard) S_D that we can set up a lovely hobo style campfire too-won't that be lovely for having friends over?

I've met some of his friends, all very nice people, too, and they seem to like me-WOW!! It's rather nice to be going about town and catch people looking at us and smiling. This morning we cleared out the garage to make room for stacked wood and as his neighbours passed they would look in and smile. He is well loved, and I think everyone is happy S_D has finally found a woman who suits him.

Weel, that's about it for an update. Things are going along well here I think. Thank-you to Sybernetics for leaving such lovely comments-don't be shy any one else who stops by, Anon's are welcome to leave a message:)

I began my new life 18th August 2010, flying for nearly 24 hours across an ocean and a sea to join my incredibly wonderful Scotsman.

I flew from Atlanta to Chicago to Stockholm and finally, across the North Sea, to Edinburgh, where I went through a grilling from the Border Agency officer, a lovely young woman who looked me in the eye and said "You haven't come to fall in love have you?"

Well, not exactly-I was already in love, or so I thought...HOLY MOLY, I fall in love, more in love, with this man every day! He is beyond belief, I am happy-he is happy. Life is good.

And yeah, I know what day it is...525 years, and I'm here in Scotland-quiet, gentle Annie who always froze because Scotland was so cold, yet here she is, warm, safe, LOVED-RESPECTED. New York can keep the Psalter, and Elizabeth can keep my former husband. This is the last time I will recognize that or any other day of the last five thousand years I used hoping the day would finally come that he realised the truth, the day he would really see ME and not a dowry, lands, titles, gains, alliances, empires...Ciao baby, ciao. Quiet and gentle Annie died a LONG time ago, Ginnie too, died, and the men who died with you that June day, too...Done, my old dear, DONE

A new adventure begins...and it is beginning very, very well. I do the Very-Very Happy Dance finally partnered-very finely.

TO MY SON:

I'm off. Freyson has my information, I've listed him (and Mary) to be contacted in case of, well, you know.

Do you remember Hurricane Ivan? How the tornadoes were all around me at the office and your dog and I took refuge in the bathtub? And how I texted you thinking I was about to die, and I wanted the last words you read/heard from me were that I loved you and 'Bas, and to be a good father?

'K, right then.

You already know what I have to say-six years haven't diminished my love for you and 'Bas, nor dulled my hopes that you will indeed be a good father.

One thing I did leave out during the 'cane, though, and I need to tell you this before I get on the plane that will be taking me thousands of miles from you...

I'm sorry I disappointed you as a parent. I'm praying for you, that you never endure that same disappointment from your son. But I'm asking you to remember that you can only do the best that you can do based on what you know at the time, and the sort of people you have around you giving you advice at the time. And then all you can do is hope that your child will one day understand that about you, and give you a chance.

In short, you are the sum of all your parts. Don't be too hard on yourself, and if 'Bas ever tries to tell you what a cock-up you've been as a dad, man-up, take it, and try to get him to talk to you-erm, he may not be willing in the time you hope he will.

I used to love flying. Privately, and commercially. That ended on 11th September, 2001. I miss stick time, but ya know, before Grandpa Gunn died I told him I was going to go back and try to get my adult license. He warned me off it, saying the corridor I'd be doing most of my flying in was going to become too dangerous. Turns out he was right.

And now I'm on my way to Scotland. Funny how things work out, right Son?

Any road, I love you, I'm sorry for the things I've done, I forgive you for the things you've done, and I hope that one day I speak to you again, in peace.

You'd really like the man I'm going to marry. He is the epitome of "...a guid clean Scot" your Granddad Gunn was always on about. Who'da thunk it?!

As for Pop, swear to God Son, I know I have his blessing. I would have liked to have yours-I would have liked you to have been at the wedding, done the hand-over. I'll miss you.

And..."I'll Love You Forever", "My Beautiful Boy", in my heart "You Are So Beautiful", and always will be, because "Hope Floats".

LOL, Your Bri, she got every one of those, and I think you should know that for all her faults (ahem, like you're faultless?), the first book she bought your son was "I'll Love You Forever", and she tried to learn both songs I used as lullabies, but truthfully, holy moly, she never could get the hang on John and Yoko's ode to their son...she did a little better with the Cocker tune, though:)

Fox, do not let 'Bas grow up without music, please. PLEASE!! He should have enough in him of me that he should be able to sing and play violin (at least until he ruins his hands the way I did)-please encourage him.

Ta my son, I'm away.

God willing, this is my last blog entry from American soil. I am moving to Scotland where I will be married to the most amazing man on Michaelmas. We will live in his house, in his little farm town on the northeastern coast near Arbroath.

My hands are shaking-what a surprise!

I met him through my peak oil forum. Love in the 21st century, after I'd resigned myself to a loveless life (read meaningless, empty, devoid...). He is a retired conservation officer-buildings and infrastructure, who better to fall in love with slowly over two years than a man who styles himself Slow_Dazzle, and posted these amazing buildings, intriguing links, and tantalizing tidbits about himself?

He overdosed on Doom at one point, and dropped off the board-I missed him dreadfully and longed for his return without wanting to understand that I'd fallen in love...another member started a 'Where's S_D' thread and I jumped on immediately-"I love S_D!" Horrified at the bold statement, I hoped no-one noticed my vehemence! I went on to remind everyone that he'd gone to paint his house-surely I wasn't the only one who remembered his statement the day he terminated his account and went off to paint his house...

He tells me that he decided to return when he saw my post.

I still wanted to avoid the awareness that I was already in too deep-when he began 'private messaging' through the forum, I tried so hard to be ultra cool without even knowing I was doing so. But...yet...deeper down the rabbit hole I flung myself until one morning I woke up and realized I was reaching for the BlackBerry before anything else, to see if he'd emailed during the night-by that point we'd exchanged private email address' and were burning up the inboxes.

Until one day he rang, and we spoke, and I fell completely, and so did he, and now I will leave The Tin Shack, the USA, and every thing/place/person I've known for the last 53+ years to undertake what is to me the most amazing adventure I have ever had in the whole of my five thousand years.

Poor, poor Slow_Dazzle! Sometimes I think he knows very well what he is getting himself into, and other times I am absolutely positive the only clue he has is that a woman who loves him utterly is tossing away a lifetime to travel thousands of miles to be his wife.

Perhaps one day I will tell him who and what I am-will he believe me? Doubtless, once he has met me, been around me for a briefish time. But...

Will I learn, will I know who he is? That is my question-who is this man who has healed my shattered soul, restored my spirit, made me whole again? Who is he? Can I have found somehow another like myself?! He hints, innocently, at years as long or perhaps longer than mine!

I have loved before. I have lost love I thought was a once-only, a tragic loss that shredded me so completely I was willing to live in a Tin Shack clinging precariously to the side of a North Georgia mountain. Five thousand years I waited for that one to trust me, to believe in me, yet he did one time only then never again. I believed with my entire being that one was my One, did I not hear the voice of God on it?

Yet...he betrayed me. He used me for chi, and left me hanging on a cliff clinging to a tree root that over the shortest time gave sickeningly until I was a broken heap over the rocks below. How does a person get over that final betrayal? The answer I thought was that a person does not ever get over, or past, or through; one only gets through each day to face yet another dismal eking out of merest survival.

Yet the heart heals. Amazingly. The heart heals. The process began I now think, thousands of years ago-with each realization that my One didn't, yet again, trust me, respect me, I was wounded, yet began the healing process, until finally my heart and soul was able to accept that God's Hope floats.

At one point I think Slow_Dazzle was shocked that HE was falling in love...he tried to break it off, and I hurled insults, abuse, anger, hurt-I went too far, and we didn't speak for days. He reached for me, though, and I flung myself into his arms-I will stay there now.

He has had cancer-twice. I'm not stupid and I know the chances of losing him too soon are higher than for most. I plead with God, DO NOT TAKE HIM AWAY! How much time is enough, how long does it want before it's OK to take him?

Over my lifetimes I have been married many times, usually to the same men, over and again. But never to this man, this wonder of a man, who makes me truly say "Forever, oh God, please give us Forever!"

I am in the middle of preparing to leave; making arrangements for the dog and two cats, packing what little I want to take to Scotland, arranging to meet my son's friend to leave the gun and a letter for the child of my soul, my Fox, the son who's estrangement from sent me away from Southeast AL to find solitude and anonymity in North GA. I contacted the friend, who contacted Fox, who is disinterested. My heart breaks while it simultaneously is soothed and healed by the man I wish could have been Fox's father.

Slow_Dazzle is not perfect, which of course makes him so, I laugh mentally as I count his 'faults'. He boxed as a young man, he rides screaming fast motorbikes (at our age, although at any age screaming motorbikes combined with my soon-to-be-husband and/or my beloved son fill my whole being with terror-two Mother's Day nights ago my son was t-boned by an idiot in a car and terribly injured. Naturally he refused to see me. Naturally.

S_D has had 'ink' removed, he sports one tatoo now and murmered something about having it removed as well.

He also has several degrees from UK universities-his intelligence is breathtaking!

Pop would have loved him. Fox? Yes, Fox will too. I pray with a fervour matched only by the fervour with which I pray that S_D and I have at least fifty years of this life together, that Fox will open his heart and finally know a real father, as I will finally know a real husband.

God is good. The Enemy slams shut a door, and God opens an entire world:)

Just a quick update:

Horrid Christmas, lonely.

New Years a bit better, a forum friend gave me a small (ha!) dog she'd rescued from the road in front of her home about two hours north of me. The dog is doing quite well, a runt Boxer/Lab mix. Mozart and Gonzo are adjusted well too, although Gonzo takes a bit too much delight in pretending to be frightened-I think she is trying to get Gracie (the dog) into trouble. Now I scold Gonzo, and the game has lost it's appeal, lol!

I worked for the Census Bureau from just before Christmas to the last week of Feb, nice while it lasted.

My son turned 28 day before yesterday-I've not seen him since Easter 2006. It hurts too much to think about. I emailed his friend but haven't heard anything back, I heard from the friend just before Thanksgiving that Fox is OK, guess I'll have to go with that. Son, if you ever read this, I love you, and I wish you were here. I've left a light on...

Hopefully my next update will be to tell any one who might be watching the blog that I've found a real job-one that doesn't shred the soul, and returns something positive to the world.

Till then, if you're looking for me you can find me at the Lifeaftertheoilcrash.net Doomer Forum. We are on the accelerated downhill slide now folks. The economy is in irreparable tatters, and the ship is sinking. Every day brings a news item regarding the latest outrage or impending climate doom.

We ARE so monumentally screwed!