THIS MUST BE LOVE . . .but HOW? (aka WHEN DIFFERENCES ATTRACT)

I met him exactly ONE YEAR AGO today, and it was pretty much love at first sight.  Oh, it could have been the fact he was carrying a colorful bouquet of flowers and as he greeted me, he handed me a small box containing what he called a “friendship ring.” It was simulated emeralds, my birthstone.  It also could have been the convertible Mercedes that he had brought to take me out to see the sun rise on the Eastern Shore for the first time. It was still dark at 5am, and he wanted to take me to the best place to see the sun rise.  When he let me drive that cute little car home, I knew it was love. We had met on an online dating site, and we had talked every day for a week before meeting. He so mistrusts the Internet, that he didn’t think I was real.  He thought it was a scam.  His nephew and his nieces posted his profile online, and kept finding him women to meet, but he didn’t trust them. He was used to people who “just want me for my money.” But after a week of talking on the phone. . . sometimes for 4 to 6 hours at a time. . . we got to know each other pretty well.  So, by the time we met in person, we already knew we had a lot in common. . . even though we come from very different backgrounds.  Our first date was magical. Knowing I was still new to the East Coast, he had asked me what is one thing that I had thought of seeing, but had not yet seen.  I told him, “the sun rise.”  So that was our first date.  It was too foggy to really catch a decent view of the sun coming up, but I loved it. I thought the fog was beautiful.  That’s when he said he fell in love with me. He said I am never disappointed, always finding the silver lining in any cloud.

I am still amazed we get along so well. We’re polar opposites in many ways. In fact, he’s someone I would never have imagined myself with.  He’s a former professional motorcycle racer (dirt track and hill climb on mega big Harley’s).  He was sponsored by big names like Nike and Harley Davidson. They sent him all over the world to race, treating him like a king. During his off time, he hunted big game in far away places.  I cringed the first time I saw the mounted heads of deer, caribou, hog, and pheasants on his wall. His tough-talking persona (to everyone but me) shows he’s used to the rough and dirty world his profession inhabited.  He said he used to have a braided ponytail down to his butt, and he had to lace it up in leather and tuck it into his belt while he raced.  He spent his youth doing everything he could to get his adrenaline fix. . . like cliff-diving, bungy-jumping, or sky-diving. He has had so many near-death injuries on his motorcycles, that his friends call him immortal. 

He’s had his friends since he was a kid.  Most of them are lawyers, for some reason. Others own local bars, nightclubs, poolhalls, or pawn shops.  They’re all into buying and fixing up old cars, taking long motorcycle rides to Sturgis, SD or Key West, FL.  Three of his friends are his legal team, dealing with the doctors and the worker’s comp lawyers on a regular basis.  Their parents were his parents’ legal teams too.  He comes from old money here in Delaware.  He talks of growing up in several mansions that his mother owned, and how she would pull him out of school to fly to Europe or the Bahamas or somewhere exotic all the time as a kid.  His dad died when he was young, and he was very close to his mom before she died a few years ago. He lost his wife to cancer too, just over a year before I met him. They didn’t have children, but he had two boys with is first wife, whom he married very young.  His youngest son died in a tragic motorcycle accident at age 31. He says he’s lost too many loved ones, and I can certainly relate to that. . . even if I can’t relate to any of the rest of his life experiences. 

A month after that first meeting, he convinced me to move in with him. . . to save money.  He couldn’t believe how much rent I was paying for my tiny house in Easton.  It was almost twice what he pays on his mortgage, and his big house in the Delaware countryside felt empty since his wife died. He said my son could rent the downstairs bedroom . . . paying rent to him instead of me . . . and I could live rent free.  How could I say no? So. . . he took in me, my two huge dogs, and my adult son.  He is honestly the most generous man I’ve met in a long time.

He has very refined tastes, in that he buys only high quality items, whether toothpaste or cars. And he’s very good at finding things at bargain prices. He buys in bulk, so there’s always three or four . . . or more, of everything.  And he’s incredibly organized and very good at keeping things stocked and ready to use.  While he’s very economical about consumable products, his house is full of luxury items that I could never afford even one of. His wife was a collector of many expensive items like crystal, silver, china, handbags, shoes, and of course jewelry. His collections are guns, knives, walking sticks, and or course cars. He said his current collection of 6 cars is the smallest he’s ever had.  He has a couple of Cadillacs, a Mercedes, a Camero, a Ferrari, and a Suburban that we drive most of the time. He says he has always had 20 to 100 cars and 20 to 40 motorcycles, but he sold most of those off to fund two years of trying to keep his wife alive.  He flew her to Germany, Mexico, and Canada. . . but none of those treatments worked.  He was devastated when she died.  He said she had tried to set him up with another wife before she died, because she knew he “did not do well alone.”  But he said, “…not only could I not imagine life with another woman, none of them interested me.  I thought I’d die alone. . .until I met you.”

The other day I found myself making a mental list of all our differences, of which there are many.  He loves the beach.  I love lakes in the mountains. His TV only shows cop shows, car shows, or old-time movies or TV shows like Andy Griffin or Gunsmoke. I watch period-piece series like Poldark, Outlander, and Downton Abby. We compromise by watching HGTV and DIY together. He says he hates people, crowds, and cities. I love festivals, strolling historic downtowns, and meeting new people. But he has allowed me to drag him along with me, and he secretly loves it. There’s a billion more ways we’re different. But we make it work by learning to value those differences and to compromise.  His love language is “gift giving,” so we buy each other things we might not like, but know the receiver will like them. My love language is “quality time together,” so we go out on dates at least twice a week. He lets me pick out the activity, as he always thinks he’ll hate anything where people are. . .yet he always tells me it was the best date so far. We’ve gone to a few festivals and lots of really good concerts. We’re together 24/7. . .just hanging out and making each other laugh.  We have traveled to Key West, FL twice, and back to my home in Washington twice. . .The last trip was 3 weeks in a car together. . . .and we returned tired of the road, but not of each other.  He likes to act like he’s a curmudgeon (even though he’s more of a teddy bear) so I call him Grumpy McGrumperson, and he calls me Baby Dumplings.  I know. . . it’s sickly sweet.   He taught me how to drink Cognac, play slot machines and win the big bucks.  I’ve taught him to tolerate texting and email.  He’s promised to teach me to play pool, once my broken wrist healed, but he never did.  He says he hates pool halls and biker bars.  I’m teaching him how to use his smart phone and stream movies or local news channels on his TV.  He actually cut the TV cable ties, once I showed him how we could still get local news and any TV show or movie ever made.  He laughs at me for not knowing who Jake the Snake and Ric Flair are, and I laugh at him for not knowing who Ken Burns and Rick Steves are.   We’re both teaching each other all kinds of things.

No, he’s not someone I would have expected to fall for.  Yet I have.  He treats me like a queen. He makes me feel cherished.  He jumps up to wait on me, if I only look like I want something.  He buys me chocolates, jewelry and expensive trinkets all the time. If he knows I’m going out alone, he goes out ahead of me to warm up my car and make sure the windshield is clean.  He’s an Energizer Bunny. . .always doing something like mowing the grass, vacuuming the floors, doing laundry, grilling chicken (20 pounds at a time), or repairing one of our cars (on the lift in his own auto shop garage).  He says anytime he needs something done, he learns how to do it himself, so there’s nothing he can’t do.  He leaves very little for me to do around the house, and that’s how he likes it.  He gave me part of his basement to turn into my art studio. He gave me his garage to store and work on painting the many pieces of furniture that he no longer wants and the ones we keep buying at flea markets. He gave me his dining room to turn into my “glitter room,” where I’ve been making artsy tumblers, wine glasses, beer steins, and signs for my daughter’s wedding. He gave me the upstairs guest room to use as my home office, dressing room, and Bella’s bedroom. He gave me the unfinished room over the garage to store my hanging off-season clothes and my growing collection of luggage.  He even offered to share his huge shop with me, so I can park both my cars out of the weather.  But I have promised myself I would leave him at least one place on the property that is his and his alone. It is tempting though.  The shop has 4 empty garage bays.  The others are filled with his car collection and a lift for fixing them.  He gave my son Byron the downstairs guest room. He put huge doggie doors in two doors and built a huge ramp when Bella got a CCL tear.  Now that it looks like Denali might have one too, he’s talking about buying all kinds of aids to help them get around and be comfortable.  I’ve never met anyone who spoils me and my dogs so.

Last October I took a two-week trip back to Washington, where I am still trying to sell my home.  I was surprised by how much I missed him. . . and he was blown over by how much he missed me.  He said he “was a mess” without me.  I couldn’t stay away the whole two weeks.  I flew home a week early.  He said as much as he hates flying now (his nerve damage pain flairs up with pressure changes) he would go with me, next time I have to go somewhere. And he did, in January, when we flew to Oregon and Washington.  And 5 months later he went back with me again . . .this time by car.  We had so much fun, we are now thinking about buying a big motorhome to travel the US in . . . with the dogs, as that’s the only thing we missed while we were gone.

Now, if all that’s not love, I don’t know what is.  I no longer question how this could be.  I just thank the stars it is what it is. I was not looking to live with a man again. . . ever.  I loved my husband, even after his strokes when his health started to decline and ended with me being his caregiver.  I didn’t ask to become a widow, but I was ready to a life alone and stay free to do whatever I wanted.  I just hadn’t expected to find someone I wanted to live with 24/7. But I really liked this guy, and since I had retired too early get pull my retirement income or my own Social Security, I really needed to accept his offer.  And I’m glad I did.  I fall in love with him more and more every day. 

Everyone keeps asking me if we will get married.  We’ve discussed it, but we agreed to wait until we’ve been together two years before we seriously consider it.  It may make sense, once we’re a little older, and needing to have some legal connection and security in our old age, I guess.

How time flies when you're having fun.

I can't believe it's been more than a year since my last blog. So much has happened.  I had two major surgeries, which took care of my estrogen imbalance and removed any chance of ovarian cancer.  I moved from Maryland to Delaware.  I quit my part-time/remote job.  The VA finally approved my Widow Survivor's claim (DIC). I used some of the back pay to buy me two new cars; a van for my dogs and a sporty Mercedes Benz for me. I want to Key West, Florida twice, and back to the Pacific Northwest 3 times.  In January I started living the Keto diet, and I have lost 45 pounds so far. My daughter got married in Oregon,  so we all flew back there for a week. She is having a bigger ceremony in Baltimore in September.  I am hoping to lose a few more pounds before then. The best part of the last year was meeting and falling in love with the man I call my "last great love." Online I call him "MUM" for My Unexpected Match...because he's so different from anyone I ever dated or was attracted to. Totally never expected to fall in love with someone like him. Everyone keeps asking me what he's like, given he's a mystery to all my friends.  Only my immediate family know him well enough to know what a great man he is. So I have promised to post a blog that tries to convey what he is to me. We're coming up to the one year anniversary of the day we met....July 13th. So I'll post about him then. Stay tuned.

Mid-life Crisis, Estrogen Imbalances,        

and On-line Dating

“Midlife crisis” is a term first coined by someone named Elliott Jaques. He was referring to a critical phase in human development during the forties to early sixties, based on the character of change points, or periods of transition. The period is said to vary among individuals and between men and women. For years, middle-age meltdown has been viewed as an exclusively male phenomenon, involving sports cars, affairs and ill-advised fashion choices – but the reality is not that limited to men.

I think. . . no, I know. . . I am in the middle of my own midlife crisis now. Actually, I don’t think of it as a crisis, but a mid-life quest for identity.  And since I don’t think I’ll live to be 120, I’m not really the middle of my life at age 62. . . but I’ll stick with that “mid-life” misnomer.

I suspect that for most of us women, a mid-life crisis isn't just about recovering lost youth. . . although that’s a part of it, for sure.  It's about discovering the application of our greatness. The problem is that no one has defined what "greatness" looks like, so the quest has no specific destination.  Having the goal of "being great" is as hard to define as it is to achieve. There is always "the next great thing" to master, which may leave women feeling incomplete. On top of that, there are issues of broken plans about the future. . .the kind that come with the loss of the person who was supposed to share that future. . . and transitioning to a new life alone. . . and I think ALL of this is the complex foundation for a woman’s mid-life crisis.

Personally, I have additional issues feeding my own mid-life crisis. I have a new health issue, a thickening endometrium (uterus lining) due to excessive estrogen. The resulting hormonal imbalance seems to be leading the charge in my own personal “quest for identity.”  Along with that, is the fear related to the potential for uterine cancer that comes with this condition. Fear, anxiety, anger, sweatiness, insomnia, and mild mania are said to be symptoms experienced by women in mid-life crisis.  When I read that online, I knew for sure.  Yep. . . that explains what’s happening to me.  But as with everything in my life, it’s the complexities of my unique situation that keep it from perfectly fitting any official definition.   

I retired in April, and moved 3,000 miles away from my familiar environment and my friends. Feeling the need to make new friends, and maybe a new life companion too, I decided to join the world of online dating. Talk about having to figure out who you are. . . while selling yourself to strange men online. . . that whole “quest for identity” part of the crisis is front and center.

Thoughout my 30’s, 40’s and 50’s I was focused on three things; raising my children, advancing in my career as a leader, giving back to my community.   And I excelled in those areas. I was not interested in becoming more attractive to men or in paying attention to my own sensuality.  But now, at age 62, those had to become my new goals.  I knew men would find me kind, caring, intelligent, and witty. But would they find me alluring?  

Thirty-five years ago I met my husband via online dating . . . about a decade before such a thing existed.  We put our ads in a “Men/Women Wanted” section of a local newspaper. Or in my case, the “San Diego Singles” magazine.  I was allowed ONE photo and about 200 characters to sell myself, while competing with hundreds of other women. . . whose ads I could see.  I had such a fun time dating, back then.  I posted a cute photo, a creative and witty bio. . . and I went on lots of dates.  I had absolutely no doubt in my ability to attract or seduce a man back then.  I knew I was hot, if not beautiful. And I was just intelligent enough to engage in witty banter and flirting. I was dating a different guy every night, following all the “blind dating rules” to ensure I was safe.

Doing all that in the computer age totally changes the game.  We live in the age of professional profile writers, selfies and tools that allow us to project whatever image we want. And if you want, you can text with each potential date . . . even sexting is possible. . . and get to know him in that way, without ever meeting him face to face.

My first month dating on-line would have probably not been the roller coaster ride it’s been, were It not for the raging hormones and misguided focus on what I believed to be my weakness. . . my sexuality.  I was as emotional as a teenager.

I had several second and third dates, so I got to know three or four of the men quite well.  Not in THAT way, though.  Several factors kept me from going there. First was my fear of being seen as “too easy.”  The second was the fact this damn endometrium disorder gave me constant vaginal bleeding.  So, after several dinner and concert dates, I spent hours on the phone, talking to these men.  I was flirting like crazy. I’d flirt across the dinner table, with just the right amount of physical contact. It was fun. . .until it got crazy.

One of my new “boyfriends” was really moving fast.  He was talking about us moving in together and becoming part of each others’ families, before he’d even met me in person. And after he finally did meet me, he was even more exited.  I got so caught up in all the hormonal excitement, that I didn’t even think logically about what was happening. Before I knew it, I was buying into the fantasy too.…never even taking time to assess how I felt about this guy being “the one.” I was only thinking about how much he wanted me, and how good that felt. Oh, I thought I knew him better than anyone (and vice versa), given we’d spent 2 weeks talking on the phone every minute we could.  We told each other things we’d never shared about our former marriages. We cried, we laughed, and I trusted him to never hurt me.

But alas, we didn’t really know each other.  He thought his family would welcome me and trust his ability to fall in love in just two weeks.  Of course, they didn’t. How could they? And their reaction caused him to be very confused.  He didn’t know what to think or do.  So he did what made sense and felt safe.  He dropped me like a hot potato. He didn’t even tell me either.  I only knew he hadn’t called me in 6 hours, which was completely unusual.   And when I tried to reach him another 6 hours later, he said he was dealing with a certain medical emergency.…one I was very familiar with, having seen my husband combat it . . . so I was worried about him. Did he have anyone to care for him? What could I do? I didn’t even know where he lived, exactly.  For the next 12 hours, I was crying like an emotional teenage, thanks to my fluctuating hormones. I was so worried that I was going to lose another man, like I had lost my husband.  I decided to leave him alone, to let him rest and heal.  I considered the stress of our “relationship” might have caused this emergency, and I didn’t want to make him worse. But then, when I did finally try to check in with him. . . he didn’t answer.  Something about it felt so wrong.  It didn’t take me long to realize this was his way of breaking up.  My fears were confirmed when I realized he had blocked me as his Facebook friend. Talk about a kick in the stomach.  I was crushed.

This was the beginning of my mid-life-crisis “breakdown.”  After spending a day crying and listening to sad tunes, I decided I had to get myself out of the house and distracted.  When one of my other new “boyfriends” called, we talked on the phone for 24 hours.  I told him all about the other guy, and how I was feeling.  He already knew about the estrogen imbalance, and he wanted to help. So he agreed to keep me distracted and NOT allow any sexy flirting to happen.  It was almost impossible, but we did it.  In fact, he did a great job of showing genuine concern for me. He was a true gentleman.

As I talked to him, my phone was buzzing with other personal business and men asking for dates.  Soon, I found myself multi-tasking at the speed of lightening.  I was holding three or four conversations via texting and phone . . . and even one in person at the same time.  The ability to manage it all was exciting. At first, I hadn’t even noticed that my behavior was becoming more and more manic. My brain was racing a mile a minute, so that’s how I was talking now.  The phone conversation with the “boyfriend” had become very one-sided, with him just affirming my wild rants about whatever it was I was blabbering about. This was all happening away from home, as I had gotten caught in a downpour while walking the dogs and talking on the phone.  I was waiting out the rain in a covered outdoor café.  When the rain stopped, I walked the dogs home.  By the time I got home, I was really tired, so I ended the phone call and took a nap. 

As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered if I was going crazy.  I knew this feeling of euphoric, fast-passed madness was not normal. About 4 hours later, the “boyfriend” called to see if I was okay.  I realized the bi-polar symptoms had ended, almost as quickly as they came on.  I told him I was fine, that I was going to take a hot bubble bath and watch a movie.  I hadn’t watched TV or done anything else, except flirt with guys, in days.  I was almost beginning to feel normal again. 

I started to assess what had just happened. I never once blamed "The One" for dumping me. . . not even for not being able to tell me.  I imagined him being hurt and confused.  I may be wrong. . . and I’ll never know for sure. . . but that’s what I choose to believe. Instead, I had to look at how my actions. . . and I had to own up to my own guilt in misleading and confusing the guys I was dating.

I had lost track of who I was.  I was only focused on the part of me I was so insecure about, and I forgot to value myself for all the rest of who I was. I had lost track of my inner beauty and was unable to trust it as something attractive.  Since then, I read someone to say mid-life crisis’ happen when someone forgets to keep a balance of the things they value. 

Before my “breakdown” made me face what a problem this was, I wouldn’t listen to well-meaning friends who tried to get me to appreciate what made me beautiful. They would try to remind me of the bounty of good things I had to offer.  In fact, I found myself frustrated that they thought their words would actually help.  I already knew I was good in those areas.  I needed to feel attractive again. . . not smart or talented or whatever.  I call that manic-filled day that followed a sudden breakup, my wake up call.  The Universe had to slap my face, to get my attention . . . and remind me who I am.

I shared this cathartic thought with my Facebook friends, vowing to stop using the airbrushing, and to live more authentically.  I put my online dating profile on pause, and I removed all the airbrushed photos I could find. I knew posting my vulnerability on my Facebook page was risky, but my friends reacted with just the kind of support and love I needed.   I got calls from old boyfriends and texts from girlfriends.  I even got support and reassurance from a couple of the new men I’d met online who had become new Facebook friends. They all reassured me that they thought I was beautiful without the airbrushing.  They reminded me to trust my inner beauty and to not lose track of all the things that made me, me. . . my art. . . my writing . . . my dogs . . . . my family . . . . my work as a Widow Coach.  The coaching is what leads me to put this all in this blog.  After losing a spouse, one will eventually think about dating again.  They will struggle, and question everything.  If any of my experience can help a fellow human realize they’re not alone . . .I’ll be happy.

I still have fears, especially related to the potential uterine cancer scare I’m living with.  I will undergo surgery at the end of July, and should have answers in August.  But the love I have felt from the people who care about me, has put me back in my comfort zone and surrounded me with warmth and security again.  I know there is nothing ahead of me that I cannot get through.  I am not alone.  I don’t need to date a bunch of strange men.  I have plenty of people who love me.  And now that I’m over all that, I find myself free to act like myself.  

I had the most wonderful unplanned afternoon/evening with a man recently.  It was an authentic, warm, fun and exciting experience. . . to let someone get to know me as I really am, and to feel appreciated . . .with zero manipulation involved.  I hope these hormone surges have settled down for good now. But even if they haven’t, I think I can handle it better now.  I have always been a fast learner.  Thank goodness.

House-sitting 101

So, you’ve heard me talk about my plans to house-sit and you’re curious to know more about it.  Why do it?  How do you get started? Allow me to share what I’ve learned so far.

What is house-sitting?

Homeowners often “hire” someone to stay at their home while they go away on holiday.  They like the house to look lived in, as opposed to vacant, and they often want someone there to take in their mail, water their plants, and if they have pets, care for their pets.  As a pet-owner, I know how expensive it is to pay for boarding kennels. And I know how much more comfortable my pets are staying in their own home. Even if they have to get to know the house-sitter, it’s much less traumatic on the pet if they can stay at home. Homeowners know the value of a good house-sitter.  They “pay” you by not charging you rent while you’re in their home.  So it’s a win-win for both homeowner and house-sitter. 

Why would you want to house-sit?

TRAVEL THE WORLD, AFFORDABLY:  You still have to pay to get to the other location, but once there, you stay for free in a house or condo that is likely bigger and better than any hotel suite. Staying in hotels and hostels can quickly eat through your budget. Vacation apartment rentals can cut costs if you’re staying a bit longer term but even then, you’re still paying an inflated monthly rent to live somewhere with only the bare minimum in terms of comfort and supplies.

LIVE LIKE A LOCAL, IN A REAL HOME: When you housesit, you live in someone’s house, with access to all its facilities, in exchange for keeping the house – and usually their pets – safe and happy while living like a local in a new neighborhood in a different city/country/continent!

Maybe this is the first you’ve heard of house-sitting, but there are thousands of people out there housesitting already. When I talk to most people about my new life of housesitting, I get loads of questions, like, “What is house-sitting, and how do I sign up to do it too?”

My take on house-sitting websites

There are several websites where people sign up to find house-sits and list their house-sit needs. Most cost something to join. A few are free, but not worth your time IMHO. I have used four sites. Here’s my take on those.

The largest of the house-sitter websites is www.trustedhousesitters.com which costs $95 for an annual membership. As a member you can posts as a homeowner and a house-sitter for no extra cost.  $95 a year may seem high, but split that cost across even a week spent house sitting and you’d be spending under $14 per night on accommodation. That’s even less than some of the best budget hostel or airbnb listings. And should you do more house sitting throughout the year, your per-night cost will go down even more.  With anywhere from 100-300 new assignments each month across the world (added to the thousands already posted from the previous month) they have the largest database of assignments. The TrustedHousesitters.com site is the one I recommend to anyone who only wants to sign up on one site.  It is incredibly easy to both navigate and set up a profile, thanks to it’s easy-to-follow forms and guidelines.  They have a daily email alert system which notifies you of all the new assignments from the past 24 hours since you were last logged on.

This is my go-to website for house-sitting.  They have the most current listings, and the site is easy to navigate.  It’s super easy to apply for sits too.

My second website choice is www.mindmyhouse.com.  This is the site from which I found my two-part assignment in Sicily. . . at a beautiful vacation resort where they rent out villas to guest.  My role will be to act as hostess while the homeowners are on holiday in Spain.  Though the MindMyHouse website is not as visually fancy or easy to navigate as TrustedHousesitters might be, it still has lots of good house sitting assignments.  I’ve seen some duplication, where a homeowner might post on several sites, but I’ve also seen posts unique to one site.  So if you’re really looking for a certain kind of sit, it is worth it to sign up with more than one site.  MindMyHouse has only about a third of the number of new sits added each week, compared to TrustedHousesitters, but don’t let that deter you.  In fact, due to the smaller size of MindMyHouse, it’s much easier to climb to the top of the potential prospects pile for each new assignment. The biggest draw for MindMyHouse is the remarkably cheap yearly membership. With an annual membership fee of $20, it’s one of the cheapest. You may want to start on this one, just to try out the process of searching for and applying for sits.

My third favorite website is www.housecarers.com. Their website is a little more “clunky,” but they put their list in a spreadsheet-like format that, once you figure out how it’s organized, might be helpful for quick-scroll type searching. With around 300 active assignments per month they’re still a little behind TrustedHousesitters and their thousands of sits, but they seem to have some unique sits that are not listed on the other sites. HouseCarers annual membership fee is $45.

The other website I have used is HouseSittersAmerica. Their annual membership fee is $30, and as their name implies they limit their sits to the USA. You can search by region, according to the list shown in the image below.  I haven’t spent as much time on this site to have a strong feeling about it, but if you’re only interested in assignments in the US, it might make it nice to not have all the others get in your way. 



Next time, I'll share some tips on how to write a winning profile and proposal, so you can get some assignments lined up and start your own house-sitting adventures.

Ch-ch-changes -- What's Ahead for Me

It's been over 3 years since I've posted to this blog.  And of course, so much has happened.  Losing a loved one forces you to make changes. It's not just the changes forced on you, like living without the loved one, or without his income. . . it also causes you to reassess what it is you want to do with your life, which leads you to voluntarily make changes.  I decided I did not want to work 10-hour days, just to pay a mortgage on a house that I will never have equity in.  So I am selling my home and retiring at the end of the year. In the meantime I have taken on roommates, renting out my three empty bedrooms.  My plan is to sell everything (almost) and put only a few valuable must-keep items in storage for 6 months while I travel Europe. I will start drawing on my late husband's social security and my own retirement plans. . .while also doing some freelance work as a travel writer. I am also planning to take a course to become a Life Coach for Widows.

Each of these things (retiring, renting rooms out, selling my home, relocating cross-country with two big dogs, freelancing, traveling) involve much planning and coordination.  There are moments when I get overwhelmed, feeling like I have way too many balls in the air.  But it seems to be my modus-operandi.  I get more done, the more on my plate.  I seem to thrive on juggling several things at once.

I could create a blog site dedicated to any one of these topics.  Each topic would attract different people who want to learn what I've learned. I've learned volumes of valuable information on FHA Short Sales.  I'm learning what it takes to become a certified Life Coach. I'm becoming an expert in getting freelance work using the UpWork website and app. I've also become really good at selling stuff online and also at finding roommates online. I seem to be especially good at getting house-sitting assignments . . . given that I have 4 assignments (scheduled for February through May) since signing up on the sites only two months ago.

The house-sitting thing is what most of my friends are curious about.  Who wouldn't wonder how they too can travel the world, with the only cost being airfare and whatever local transportation and sight-seeing you want to do while you're at your house-sitting location.  Your lodging is provided. And while you have responsibilities to sleep in the home and possibly care for pets and plants while there, you typically have free time during the day to explore the local area.  So that is what I think I'll write about. I will tell you what the best websites are for finding house-sits and how to write a winning profile and proposal.  Then, after I have completed my house-sits I will write about those experiences.  With that in mind, I'm changing the title of my blog from "He's Gone" to "The Wandering Widow." What do you think?  I'm open to ideas for a good title.

My first house-sit will be in the US. . . in Baltimore, during the second half of a 2-week vacation I already had planned for later this month.  I will spend the daytime becoming familiar with the area (in anticipation of renting a home there after I return from Europe in June) and visiting with my daughter (around her day job).  At night I will care for two cats, in a home not far from where my daughter works. The only hard part about going to Maryland for two weeks, is leaving my own dogs at home.  But I have a house full of roommates that are happy to sit with them, while I sit with someone else's pets.  Thanks, roomies.

When I get back home after Thanksgiving my focus will be on emptying my house and getting it sold. I will haul some belongings down to my old hometown (Grants Pass, Oregon) for long-term storage. So there's at least one 6-hr U-Haul drive down I-5 in January. I will work through December for sure and maybe even into January, depending on if/when the house gets sold.  In February I will drive my van with one of my dogs (Bella) from Washington to Maryland.  I'll take a southern route, to hopefully avoid any horrible weather to deal with.

People keep asking me what I will do with all my artwork.  My house has been my art gallery, every wall covered with art.  Many offices of my co-workers in Olympia and Seattle have also served as my art gallery.  I will continue to have my art online for sale.  I will relocate my inventory to Grants Pass, in friends' and relatives' workplaces and safely stored where it can be retrieved and shipped if/when a piece sells.  GP friends, if you would like to display my art in your work place, let's talk before I start packing things up in December and January.  I loan my art to friends . . . when it can be displayed publicly with a price/contact card on it. . .and when the friend is willing to act as curator should the piece sell. So if you have an office open to the public and need some large colorful art, let me know.

Once all that is done, the fun begins.  I fly to London on February 26th.  I already have all my travel arrangements and car reservations in place. My second house-sit assignment is 2 weeks in England. . . in a town called Cobham, about 90 minutes from London.  After that assignment ends I will fly to Rome where I am leasing a car for 70 days (much cheaper than renting).  I will take a week to drive down the "boot" of Italy (lingering on the Amalfi Coast most of the time) towards Sicily, where my 3rd and 4th assignments are.  I will have plenty of free time to see sights.  I am hoping I can get another assignment to fill the 3-week gap between the last two assignments, just to keep the costs down. . . but if not, I'm fine with that.  I am learning so much about how to travel on a shoestring, that I am fine with not having another assignment.

Again the hardest part of this is leaving my dogs behind for 3 months.  I've never left them anywhere that long.  Denali will be fine.  He has already transitioned to Byron being his only caretaker.  Byron and Denali have been living in Grants Pass, renting my sister's "barn" for the last 3 months.  He is working as a ParaEducator in his sister Jenessa's old middle school. Bella will stay with Jenessa in Baltimore while I'm gone.  Bella is much more "clingy" and "needy" than Denali.  She is my "Verelco Girl." My daughter says Bella is "unusually attached to me."  And that will undoubtedly transfer to Bella being attached to my daughter, once I am gone long enough.  Of all the people in Bella's life, my daughter is the only one, besides me of course, that Bella does not seem to be apprehensive about.  So I am forever grateful to Jenessa (and her roommates Shane, Missy, & Eliud) for allowing Bella to live with them for the Spring.

So. . .welcome to my new life. . .traveling alone. . .without my dogs. . . . in foreign countries that speak other languages  . . . .  no more home to manage . . .no more desk job to go to every morning . . . and travel blogging.  Lots of changes ahead.

I want to get back into daily blogging.  I just need to decide what to write about first. I will write about all these changes I've mentioned.  I will write about selling all my belongings to become a Roving Retiree.  I will write about my experience applying for and living on Social Security at age 61. I will write about traveling cross country with a dog in the van in the wintertime.  I will write about traveling solo to Europe, driving on the wrong side of the street in the UK, and all the sites along the way.  I'll write about living in Sicily for two months, where even the mainland Italians don't speak the language, where I'll be running a BnB frequented by Germans who vacation in Sicily.

One way to fund future travels will be via writing freelance travel articles and blogging advertisements and sponsorship.  I am learning how to do that now.  My first goal is to build a group of readers, people who will follow my blog and share it on their social media sites.  I am curious as to what topics you want me to write about.  Tell me what you like about my blog posts and how I could improve them.  I need friends like you to help get my blogging career started.

WhimsiColeArt.com -- I'm Selling My Art Online Now!

After selling my first piece of art, by simply having it in the right place at the right time, I decided to do as many people have told me to do recently.  I've put my art online for sale.  I got me a main domain website, and I'm slowly learning how to have a real business, selling my art.  

Here's a link to my online store:  WhimsiColeArt.com,  I came up with the name for my store/website, because I love bright colors of pretty things that make me smile.  Get it? Whimsical? And of course, I want you to remember my name.  I will always keep the Cole name.  My husband may be gone, but he gave me that name, and I'm keeping it.

I'm a firm believer of doing what you love.  Not that I don't love working 40-hours a week. . . but I spend all my free time painting, so I decided I should at least try to make my art pay for itself.  Quality artist paints and canvases are not cheap.

I need the help of my friends to get people to check out my website.  So please share this post with as many people as you can.  I'll be adding pieces each week.  Let me know what you think.

--Phyllis

Another "Second First:" My High School Reunion

This post builds on the many "second firsts" I've been talking about in my blog. . . things I'm doing again, but for the first time as a widow.  Everything is different, once you become a widow.  Here's another second first: my high school reunion.

Me (far left, with wine glass in hand) and my GPHS 40th Reunion Planning Teammates

For the last 6 months, I’ve been meeting with a small group of my old high school friends to plan our 40^th high school reunion.  I had reconnected with Jackie while Scott was sick.  Jackie was a classmate who I didn’t really know that well in high school, but knew well enough to say, “Hey, remember me?”  And she did.  About 25 years ago her name came up when my mother-in-law said a nurse in her dialysis clinic had known me in high school.  Jackie was that nurse.  My mother-in-law has since long passed away, and now my husband was dying.  Jackie is a great friend to have under such sad situations, as she deals with serious health issues daily, and she’s such a reassuring presence.  Anyway, Jackie and I got to talking about wanting to reconnect with long-lost classmates.  One thing lead to another, and pretty soon we had a small band of classmates together at a pub in Springfield, Oregon, planning for a reunion . . . our 40^th . . .  to occur in less than 6 months.  Could we pull it off?  We wanted to keep it simple (where people could just mingle and get to know each other again) and cheap (so more people could afford to attend).  We thought we’d be extremely lucky to get 40-50 people.  With a graduating class of somewhere close to 700 people, we figured there might be that many classmates still in town or close by.  We never anticipated so many people would travel to make it for the reunion.  We set up a website on Classmates.com and a page on Facebook, and we did lots of promotion via various social media.  The turnout simply amazed me.  We had over 150 people at each of the three events planned.

We graduated from a town with only ONE high school at the time, so I thought I knew everyone in town.  NOT true!  And I had forgotten many of the people I knew back then. What a trip.  It was like meeting a hundred strangers that I had an amazing familiarity with.  We all have led interesting lives in the 40 years since we crossed under those rose-covered arches to graduate, but we all share a common background and experience that ties us together.  It was hands down, the best reunion experience I have been a part of.  One of the best parts was the side-bar small gatherings we managed to squeeze into the weekend.  A group of 9 of us took a jet boat trip down the Rogue River.  That was a hoot!  My brother-in-law was our pilot, so he made sure we got a few extra spins in and made the trip extra fun.  A group of us went to the “Back to the 50’s Cruise,” a parade of classic cars.  I enjoyed the company of good friends over three meals a day.  And the wine, oh my, oh my.  The wine flowed continuously.

My classmates are very generous.  We raffled off gifts donated by various classmates, and we ended up raising close to $500 for the GPHS Scholarship Foundation.

Only a PORTION of the classmates attending our 40th reunion.  Go Cavemen!

Over the years I have kept in touch with only a few classmates, and only a couple of them live in our old hometown still.  I go back there often, since my dad, my sister, and my sister’s daughter all live there.  But it is rare that I really get time to hang out with old friends.  And that’s all I did this last weekend.  I had the time of my life.  It was great meeting (re-meeting) old friends.  !   I’ve been telling people it was like meeting strangers I’ve known my whole life.   It was fun to see how my 18-year old friends had matured into amazing adults.  Of course, we’ve all had a lot of “life” happen in between high school and now.  The weekend  just wasn’t long enough.  Actually the whole week I was in town was not long enough. . . .on the one hand . . . but on the other hand . . . I was exhausted and needing to go back to work, just to rest. 

I am learning how valuable my friends are.  Especially now that I am a widow. . . .but even before.  The biggest difference now is this:  I do not have to worry about my husband being bored while I enjoy the company of my old friends.  I remember earlier reunions, where that was the case.  But no more.  I continue to look for the positive side of widow-hood, and this is something positive.  I have time to reconnect with long lost old friends.  I simply LOVE spending time catching up, and reflecting on our lives together.  So if you’re an old friend of mine, reading this, and we haven’t had a chance to sit down and chat over a glass or wine, or over the Internet . . . please contact me.  I’d love to get caught up.  Really!   In fact, I’m working on planning a “Girls Weekend” for somewhere on the Oregon coast or maybe on a river.  Just need to slow down long enough to make plans.  If you have ideas, or just want to go, let me know.