So Long, Joe...

          Mendocino, California~2009

(Yours truly with Joe, Barb, and their sweet grandchildren.)

Saddened to learn that my blog pal Joe Spado has shuffled off this mortal coil... That seems impossible, since he was a strong and courageous survivor for most of his 64 years..

His heart was permanently damaged from exposure to agent orange when he was a very young man, serving in Vietnam.  He spoke out for veteran's rights for the rest of his life and was against the Bush wars and what they're doing to yet another generation of soldiers.

He lived life in ways most of us never do.  

Crossed the United States countless times by motorcycle.  Cycling was his passion, and it saddened him to stop riding recently.  But he took things in stride, always sharing his love and light with those he came in contact with.  And he knew a LOT of people!

In 2009, he took his wife, daughter, and grandchildren on a cross country road trip.  He wanted to share some of what he had seen with the young ones, especially.  They had an amazing journey and on their way up the North Coast, they stopped to say hello.  We walked to the little park at the Mendocino Recreation Center and hung out while the kids played.  Then they hit the road again for Humboldt.

I had previously visited with Joe in 2007.  He passed through Mendo on his way to San Francisco.  He was meeting his wife there and they were driving back to the Midwest together. Theirs was one of those unions you hear of, but rarely witness. Together since 1971-through changes many marriages could never have endured. Like losing a child, for instance. Life partners in every sense.

He made fine traditional dream catchers in his retirement--like none I've ever seen.  He sent me one about six years ago and recently repaired it. He also made beautiful snowshoes. 

Joe was a true Renaissance man, and a kind human. So long, Spadoman.  (His blog, Round Circle can be found in my blog list, over there on the right.)

So Long, Social Media!

Today, we will drive to Honoka'a to shop and run errands.  While there, I will bring my laptop into the library. (The library in our town  is closed for re-roofing until sometime in August.)  My purpose will be to delete my Twitter account.  This was to occur sooner, but Twitter doesn't allow you to delete accounts via cell phone. The nerve.

I started that account in June of 2008. Which means we had just moved from our cozy shack in Mendocino to a larger place in Fort Bragg.  My youngest child was struggling emotionally and wreaking havoc most every day.  Many, many mornings, I cried on the way to work.  My father was a couple months away from his extreme descent, health-wise.  My love's father was still among the living, holding his own here in Hawaii.  This after feeling unwell for many months, which is why my love spent a month there in 2007, caring for him.  I worked for the school district in Mendocino, at an Internet service provider which they owned and operated... Where I worked for the best boss I have ever had, to this day.  The job itself was tolerable, though it never offered more than 25 hours per week... But the boss knew how to manage people with respect and efficiency.  It took a lifetime of employment to have that sort of positive work environment.

Anyway, by the next year, some things began to change drastically.  My father's health started declining rapidly.  My partner's father died suddenly one night in November.  That changed our perceived life path drastically, and here we are.

Regarding Twitter and Facebook, My outlook and views are now very different.  I do not require the same level of hand holding and encouragement I used to crave from Internet "friends."  Also, no longer do I believe that posting and retweeting items I find important will change anyone's mindset, much less the world.  These last five or so years have solidified that belief.  I find myself getting frustrated with humanity and the lack thereof far too much.  Since blowing up my Facebook page in January, I've had no desire to reanimate there.  I know it will be the same with Twitter, because it's become more tedious than fun.  

My ongoing quest is to be here.  Not hiding out in the internet ether. Every Twitter session equals weeds that aren't pulled, plants that aren't planted, and life not being truly lived.  I get far too drawn into it--and that is an unhealthy thing.  As for my blog, it stays.  It's been around for more than 8 years, and unlike the other platforms, it's personal.  I am not concerned by who reads or comments here.  It's for me, and perhaps for my offspring to peruse one day when I am gone.  My life and views have changed a great deal here on the blog as well, but this is more of a journal.   And I need to write.

UPDATE:  Account Deactivated!

Now and Zen

Blogging feels different now. One reason could be that I started into it almost 8 years ago. Shit happens in 8 years.

Back then, I lived in a tiny homesteader's cabin surrounded by a ring of redwoods and Monterey pines in Mendocino. It was a funky little place, but the setting was serene and lovely. We made it our own and called it the cozy shack. Hence the name.

I worked full-time as a receptionist and administrative assistant at Thanksgiving Coffee Company. Older daughter was just finishing her freshman year at Sonoma State. Younger daughter was in middle school. My son had been living and working in Santa Cruz, but came to stay with us for a few months that summer, pulling espresso shots at the local bakery. The man was head bottler at North Coast Brewing Company back then, home of Rasputin and Red Seal ales. We worked hard to keep our little family going. We were blue collar workers with decent vocabularies.


I sometimes wrote about crazy stuff. It was an intense time and there was plenty of intensity at home then, too. My seemingly-angelic youngest child became an adolescent and did some serious boundary-pushing, which coincided perfectly with that magical time we call menopause. I lucked into a much improved job with the school district. Which was good, since it had been a very long 5 years with the coffee people. The man stopped bottling beer and began making gorgeous handmade doors at Mendocino Doors. Older daughter decided she would not return to college after her second year. Younger daughter was floundering at high school. Neither of which we could have predicted. So much for predictions/expectations.

The man's father died rather suddenly in 2009. And less than a year later, we were pursuing this place. It has now been 2 years since we left the mainland.

We make less money, but have far more satisfaction in our life here than we have known in our 50-plus years. The kids are resilient and self-sufficient, despite the fact that they live where life is ridiculously overpriced. When they grow weary of struggling in Babylon, we'll be here. Plenty of room for expansion on this property.

I'm not writing as much as I'd like, but will persevere. I feel braver about sharing the stories and observations I once considered cringe-worthy. There is something freeing about losing one's second parent, when it comes to the telling of tales.

Some of my recent posts may come off as melancholy or too personal. Not trying to bum anyone out, nor do I seek sympathy or commiseration. Just attempting to shed light on some of my dark corners.


I have noticed, this time around, that blogging is still prone to the same sort of thing that plagues Facebook and the Internet in general. Herd mentality and all of that rot. I admit to appreciating interaction here, but am not courting followers as I did when as a newbie.. Expectation and attachment are a couple of things I am forever working on.

Things have quieted down in blog land over the last 8 years. Many former readers have moved along. A few from the early days are still around. And some readers are actual friends I know and in some cases love. I find that comforting, in a world where cyber friends often outnumber the flesh and blood variety. I've always been tactile.

I do enjoy visiting blogs, but will admit that I don't always comment if it is too much work signing in, using Captcha, etc. Especially on this damn cell phone. I do understand why bloggers use these safeguards. Just keepin' it real.

Sunday Market

The weather was splendid, we talked to lots of great people... I even met a fellow blogger! Hattie brought her husband and friends by, and she is even MORE delightful in "meatspace." Today was a very good day indeed!

On Returning

to blogging...

This time, I will write whatever the hell I want. For no one in particular... Just to set some thoughts free. Last time, the blogosphere became just another sort of clique.

So much of my life has been social. I liked it that way. In fact, there is an old family tale about my early interest in people. We had a wonderful babysitter named Colantha. She looked after my brother and me when I was 3-4 years old, while my dad was getting his master's degree and my mother was working. One day, when it was our nap time, a friend of Colantha's came by for a cup of coffee. I apparently heard the chatter of the two women, and snuck into the hallway to listen-in. Before long, I was caught snooping. Colantha scolded me, saying: "Anne, what are you doing? This is none of your business! I replied: "People ARE my business!!" And that pretty much describes me for about the next 40 years. I thrived on knowing lots of people, which kept me happily distracted. My old pal Jim even referred to me as the social director, and called it my "real job."

Somewhere over the course of the last ten years, that changed drastically. Blame it on menopause, my eye-opening job at Thanksgiving Coffee, or the disappointment in one too many long-term friendships. The fact is, I now thrive in solitude and adore the beautiful silence of our Hawaiian hideaway. Sometimes days go by, and I see no one but my beloved. There was a time when that scenario was my worst nightmare. No more. It's beneficial for introspection, writing, and just being.

Especially these days, when I am trying to come to terms with the death of my complicated, beautiful father, and the various intricacies of my grown children's lives.

I can't let myself get pulled into popularity contests anymore. I admit that this is no easy task for someone like me, who has spent far too much of her life worrying over what people might think. After all, life is so fleeting, so ultimately insignificant in the great scheme of it all.