tHe haPPy grOUch

tHe haPPy grOUch

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Let's get up to speed...

Wow. A year to date since I've written in this blog. I've been limiting my blogging to facebook. Although I admit, I haven't written much there either.
But since I've now payed for a domain name, I suppose I'd better bring you up to speed...

The following is one long blog; journal entries ("facebook notes") that have been written this past year in order to get up to date.
Get comfy, happy reading...


May 19, 2012

I really haven’t written anything since February? Wow, I’m slacking. Really though, anything noteworthy has already been written in status updates. This is basically just a longer form of status update.
And of course, therapy.
So, let the session begin.

I’m all moved into this beautiful house. Sharla’s house.
It’s funny, I’ve always had house envy with this place, ever since it was built 8 years ago. And now I live here.
Now I just have to figure out a way to consider it my house, and not my sister’s house. Perhaps time will solve that.

Then there’s that other house. The house that I’m barely holding onto. Actually, I’m holding onto it emotionally. Financially? Ha. That’s a whole different story.
I shame myself for being hasty. For having unrealistic expectations that Fitz Lane would sell quickly. And even more unrealistic expectations that we could keep up financially with both houses. The mortgage company is breathing down my neck. I wish I hadn’t asked my parents to co-sign. But I did. And they are loving and generous, and so they did. And now their credit is paying for it. If it weren’t for that, I probably would have let the bank have the house, maybe long ago.

I thought that when the move was over, things would normalize. And maybe that’s true. But I guess the move isn’t really over. There are still miscellaneous things (in fact, quite a lot) at the old place. In just the house alone. Box springs, desks, toys, clothes… stuff. And lots of it.
And in the garage, there’s a veritable toy/furniture/scrap/junk graveyard.
It’s really the most overwhelming thing. I have no idea what to do with it all. Many things are from the old farm. Much of it far too heavy to move again (an 800 pound piano, and a 500 pound old farm tool sharpening wheel, for instance). And I thought it would be a good idea to have all those things from the farm, for some reason. ‘For some reason”… I know for what reason… Because at that point, I thought I’d never sell. I thought I’d stay on the Lane forever.
My, how things change.

It’s so overwhelming, thinking about the Lane. The finances. The emotional ties. The junk, the cleaning, the upkeep… And so instead, I find things to do to keep my mind occupied. Refinishing furniture. Yard saling. Mixing new oil concoctions. Turning my black soap bars into liquid…
All fun, yet very counterproductive.
All they do is please me for a short time. Take my mind off things. And then the things are still there. And they still need taking care of, worrying over, stressing about.
The things don’t go away.

I hate that house that. I hate many of the memories that were made there. I hate that it is this all-consuming financial thing that’s hanging over the heads of my parents. I hate that it and the garage are still full of crap that I have no friggin idea what to do with.
And I miss that house. I miss the “prestige” of being a “home-owner”. I miss my cave. I miss watching the kids ride bikes on the long paved road. I miss the apple trees, the lilac trees. I miss the 2 acre lawn that I complained about mowing.
I miss the Lane.
And I have to get over it.
My, how things change.

Maybe I should consider renting it out.

It’s probably PMS. Or maybe I just need more coffee.
.

.Friday, July 06, 2012

Three months in between blogs… Since I only usually write when I’ve got something to complain about, that must mean that things are looking up.

And today, I actually can’t complain. Well, I could, but I won’t. Ok, I lied. I’ll complain for just a minute.. But then I’ll cite the reasons why I shouldn’t. How’s that?

I often feel like a failure. I am turning 39 in a couple weeks. And so far in life, I haven’t much to show for it.
No college degree, no high-wage employment. No nice car. No 401k or retirement plan. No nuclear family. No husband; just a slew of ex’s.

I owned a house. I did accomplish that much. But here’s an admission; I’m deeding it back to the mortgage company.
And that only adds to the sense of failure.
I thought the house would sell quickly. I thought we could afford two (hefty) house payments until it did. I was wrong. But at least I was hopeful.
When Sharla told me she was going to rent her house, I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get it. She certainly couldn’t afford to hold onto it and continue making three house payments while she waited for me to sell my place and take over one. And that is completely understandable.
Rock and a hard place. So- take Sharla’s house, put mine on the market, and hope for the best.
Well, “the best” never came, and there mine sits.

Fortunately though, at least my emotional ties to it have dissipated. For a while I thought of renting it out. And not for financial reasons, but just so I could “hold onto it”. After a frank conversation with a wise real estate agent/financial advisor, I recognized that it would not be a smart monetary move. The market rate for rent would still not cover the mortgage payment, and then I would have to consider immediate (and constant) repairs and maintenance. Once figured, the initial and yearly overhead was staggering. And so, no renting it. Wait for a buyer. And the buyer never came.
And so, instead of paying and paying and fighting to catch up and trying to afford everything else, the decision came to deed it back.
Now I only have to work towards acceptance.

Now. Onto the part about why I shouldn’t complain…

I do SO LOVE my new house (Ha! I said mine, not my sister’s!!).. Even though I have failed in home-ownership, I am in a house that I have only dreamed of living in. My neighbors are a bit sketchy though.. (Just kidding Mom!)..

I have a fantastic man in my life. Not only does he love me and the children beyond measure, he takes care of us. And by that I don’t only mean financially. There are all kinds of little things too… buying me flowers, going grocery shopping, cooking dinners, cleaning (yes ladies, he gets groceries, cooks AND cleans), nightly foot rubs.. I wish I had a better recollection of things, because the list goes on and on… His patience, generosity, understanding, and kindness are immeasurable. And for him, I am fortunate. Maybe I should buck up and marry him.

I did accomplish a couple of great kiddos too.
I know I’m biased… But my daughter is really the epitome of a “good teenager”. Yes, they do exist. No drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no “tasteless” wardrobe (you've all seen those teenage girls.. ugh), years of academic honor roll, good driver, fun and friendly and outgoing, responsible, goal oriented… (Hopefully she won’t read this and use it against me)…
And Dawson, even as challenging as an adolescent boy can be.. is a compassionate and caring young man, sensitive, honest, sweet, charming..
So, for them, I am fortunate.

I’ve got a pretty cool family too. My parents might make crazy neighbors, but they’re pretty ok as far as parents go… Not just good parents though, good people… They would literally give their last dime to someone who needs it, even if they need it just as much. I see Mom doing it every week at church. And Dad, who is old and broken, who would work for nothing if it meant he’d help out a friend.. I have a good friend in my sister. Always have. And a bunch of Aunts and cousins that are irreplaceable too.  This summer has already started off with a few impromptu family gatherings that have made me even more grateful for that core and extended family.

I’ve got a few good friends. Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating. I probably only have a couple. But the two or three that I do have, I wouldn’t trade for a thousand more.

And you know what else? We all still have our health and our lives.
I personally know two men who are battling cancer. One, not much older than me, with a wonderful wife and kids. And he is riddled with it.
Another, my parent’s age. Otherwise healthy. Just found out he has lung cancer and was given 6-12 months to live.
And another local young man, who is in the hospital fighting for his life, with a severely traumatic head injury.

And for them, I am grateful for me and mine.

Wow, I never have so much good to say. Maybe I’m having a stroke or something. Can someone please call 911 for me?



Tuesday, September 11, 2012


Wow. In a few days, I’ll be Mrs. Jakacky (yes, I’m keeping my name, for personal reasons).
I’ll be getting married on the beach where Troy’s mom’s ashes are scattered. I can’t imagine a better or more proper place. A quaint and private ceremony with the family.
Then we’ll be going out to celebrate with friends that night.
Sunday morning we will leave for CT in our rented Audi Q5, staying at the beautiful Bellissimo Grande, hitting up Mohegan, Foxwoods, and Mystic Village…

Wait… I’m getting MARRIED??? AGAIN????

Why yes, I am. And oddly, I couldn’t be happier about it.
Third time’s a charm, right?

I swore after my first divorce, I’d never do it again. And then I did (and WOW what a crazy ride THAT was!).. And then, after that lunatic, I swore off marriage again. And then I got engaged to another shmuck. That ended, and I swore (once again) to never do it again. For sure, for good, period, end of story.
So much for that.

And why bother to get married, anyway? I mean, Troy and I both wear rings, we live and behave as if we’re married, and I’m even keeping my maiden name… So again, why bother?
Well, I don’t know. It is just a piece of paper, right? Just some symbol or stigma that someone decided was the “right thing” for two people to do. Well, I guess it just does feel like the “right thing” to do... It just feels… right..

I can’t explain it, so I’ll just use Troy’s latest status update…
(For those of you who aren’t friends with Troy, or just didn’t happen to see it)…

So, I get to marry the woman I love with all my heart (all 26 percent functioning, swollen heart) on Saturday. The thought of this fills me with overwhelming joy and excitement. This day seemed like it would never come and now it has arrived. Things haven't always been easy, we've fought-we've made up, we've not liked each other very much-we've found that appreciation again, we've broken up-we've gotten back together again. A lot of this has been played out in public, on this site in fact. But, looking back and (more so) definitely looking forward, the one constant was and always will be the love that we share. Even when we took a short 'hiatus', neither of us could ever deny that we still loved one another. When Crista and I first started dating we hit it off right away. It was like a wildfire out of control. It was incredible. Almost scary. Oh, and we actually met online. So, no surprise that so much of our relationship has played out here. Anyway, we were only dating for a few weeks when I had to face the worst tragedy of my life-my mother suddenly dying from a stroke. My mother and I were extremely close and without Crista, I'm not sure how I would have managed. She was perfect. There when I needed her, giving me space when I didn't. She was amazing. I knew she was special right then. And, she's had a lot to deal with since then. Surprisingly, I'm not all peaches and rose petals. Between heart problems, surgeries, rehab, clots, etc, etc. We've had 2 years of ups and downs and continuous tweaks and adjustments to our relationship, attitudes, and expectations and are at a place where I am truly happy. Crista is the love of my life. She is beautiful, smart, fun, witty, a great mom (to all the kids-Logan, Dawson, and Kayli), loyal, sexy, appreciative, and loving. I will be extremely proud to call her my wife once Saturday finally comes. I love you, madly Crista. Sun and Moon.



And so, THAT my friends, is why I’m marrying him.


Saturday, September 15, 2012

I’m going out of my comfort zone for a moment, so be forewarned; the following note may contain explicit mushiness and should have an “R” rating for Ridiculously sappy…

Today I marry my best friend…

A man who’s been constantly and unequivocally loyal, patient, kind, nurturing, supportive and loving.
He is funny and charming, and brings out the “silly” in me, even though I’ve always been content being stoic.
He accepts me and all of my moods and idiosyncrasies, and cherishes me with the same love and kindness, regardless.
He is witty and smart, with the perfect blend of brawn and tenderness (I’ve always said I wanted a tough guy who reads Dickens).
He is a friend, confidant, and father to my children.
He has cared for us when I was in financial turmoil, and more importantly, when I was emotionally lost and empty.
A good and decent man, who upholds my expectations of honesty and integrity, with life values equivalent to mine.
A generous and selfless man who puts all of us first in his thoughts and actions, every single day.

A man who I will be honored and humbled to call my husband.

I love you Troy Varnum, with every ounce of my being. Sun and moon, forever.

Now let’s PARTY!!!!!!!!!!