Last Post

Today is the fifth anniversary of the death of my beloved dog Pony. Fitting enough time to say goodbye to blogging. Since this is the first post in three years, this shouldn't be a surprise.

Since Pony died:

* my Dad died six months later

* Hugo died at age 11 at what was thought to be a particularly aggressive form of cancer

* the rest of the goldfish died, the oldest being at least 13

* my Mom has had countless strokes, needed to go in a nursing home for 7 months ... which cost about all of her life savings

* she came back home, bedridden, and I care for her and my two pit bull mixes 

 * tried to commit suicide after Hugo died and Mom went into the home, failed, so I adopted a pit bull mix that was to be euthanized that day

* eleven months later, adopted another pit bull mix that was to be euthanized that day

* had to quit writing

* was appalled at Peter Gabriel's pathetic excuse of an album <i>I/O</i>

* am now mostly listening to Tom Waits, David Bowie, John Prine, and Leonard Cohen.

I'm 54, just waiting to die, but keeping myself distracted from the pain. I know that someone from the Peter Gabriel fan community has tried to contact me. I'd rather be left alone with my dogs, my books, and my Breyer model horses. I stopped all social media except YouTube and Goodreads. 

Goodbye, Blogger.

I'm Writing Again

Just a quick note for any prospective clients out there that I am writing web content again. Still depressed, but writing again.

Whee.

My 15th Anniversary of Returning to America

15 years ago today, my 13 month old dog Pony and I made two long train trips, a taxi ride and a trans-Atlantic flight from the UK to the country of my birth, USA. My Mom and Dad, divorced but together that day, picked us up. Pony and I had been homeless together and Mom consented to take us in after someone burned our bender down. A bender is a makeshift living space made from bending young tree trunks to make a frame where you can toss blankets and tarps over. We had been living in a two-person tent for over a month.

15 years later and there's only Mom and me left. I also have a one-year old goldfish and one other dog, Hugo (now 10) and that's it. I've lost my job, my Mom lost her ability to walk and I've lost any reason to write anymore. This photo was from around 15 years ago, clipped from The Bath Chronicle, which is why it's a bit wrinkly.

It's Been One Year Since My Dog Pony Died and I Don't Know What To Do

 Pony was the dog of a lifetime. When she died I cried out, "How will I live the rest of my life without her?" After all we'd been through for 15 years -- being beat up by the same guy, fire, flood, homelessness, international travel -- and even though I have my 10 year old dog Hugo, I am alone. This photo was taken when Pony was young and healthy.

My Dad Died and I Don't Know What to Do

Things have never been so bad with me. I stopped writing because I am so overwhelmed by panic and sorrow. As the title suggests, my Dad died of a suspected heart attack on March 30. He was found by a concerned neighbor. He lived alone in the Poconos. I tried calling him that Sunday (I usually call him on Sundays) and he didn't pick up. No big deal. He's done that before. I called back on Monday the 30th at 7:30 pm and still he didn't pick up. At 8:30 I got a call back -- from the county coroner.

And it's been all downhill ever since. I live 150 miles from his place. He had about 12 cats. two friends from him from church are taking care of the cats but they will not move them out of the trailer. I have no idea what's going to happen to the cats and I am so far away I cannot do anything about it.

My only sibling, my brother Matt, lives in Canada. He wants the trailer, Dad's life insurance, the SUV and the bank account. We've already paid a month's sewage bill on the place, where nobdy lives but the cats and two helpers who check in on them daily. I have no idea what will happen if the electricity bills aren't paid. I'm told the pipes in the mobile home will explode for some reason.

According to relatives, Dad did not leave a will. Which means everything has to go through probate, which means someone has to go to the courthouse in the county where Dad died.

Why can't I do it? First off, I'm not a good driver. Putting me behind the wheel of my SUV on the highways and traveling lost in the Poconos is not in the public's best interest.

But mainly I can't do anything because of my Mom. She's severely crippled, canot walk (cannot even lurch into a wheelchair) and going downhill. She doesn;t have the coronavirus, but does have many health problems like Diabetes Type II and spinal stenosis. I just lost my Dad (and seven months ago, my beloved dog Pony) and now I'm worried I'm going to lose my Mom.

So there's Dad's things and family obligation to do soething about them on one hand and on the other hand I have to take care of Mom. Taking care of Mom is my priority. I have to let all that stuff go (even the photos, even Dad's handicrafts, even a painting by my Uncle Jack) and stick to taking care of Mom in this time of CORVID-19.

Life has suddenly become a very fragile and terrifying thing.

How I Got Back to Writing Again

It's Thanksgiving here and I finally have the time and (more importantly) the energy to post on this sadly neglected blog. As the title suggests, I've been writing again here and there as my time, my health and my Mom's lack of health permit.

So, how did I manage it? Simple. I spent all my money. I drained my bank account and had some fun doing it, too. I spent most of it on books and Breyer model horses. I used to be a major collector of model horses when I was a kid (and I was a kid until I was 30.) I know Breyers are the gateway drug to hard drug equivelent of model horses like Peter Stones, resins and (gasp) porcelains, but I have been able to keep it at just Breyers.

I had hoped to add a photo of my collection but I cannot get the damn digital camera or the smartphone with the camera to work. I know there is a camera on this laptop but i cannot get a decent picture with it.

I did, however, manage a photo of me with Hugo, my sole remaining dog.

Pony Died Today

Pony went downhill suddenly and died quietly at home in the living room surrounded by her human family and my other (now only) dog Hugo.

Pony was born on 13 August 2004 in a council flat in Trowbridge, England. I was given her when she was 7 weeks old. We were both beat up by the same guy. He burned my home down just before Pony's first birthday. We fled together for my Mom's home in Clifton Heights, PA, where she spent the rest of her life. She was 15.

I know I'm supposed to write a proper eulogy but I can't. I have no idea how I'm going to face the rest of my life without her.