Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving is a time to consider all those things for which we are thankful. I've got a lot to be thankful for this year.

I am thankful for the 14 years I shared with Nevada, who died on this day last year.




I am thankful for a sound mind, reasonably good health, and great friends like these two.

And these two.

And these two, who are cooking another two.

And these two, too!
And this one, though I seldom see her.


I am thankful for the second guy from the right, even though I've NEVER met him.

I am thankful for that these two are two again, although I have to admit I was ready to kick one of their asses earlier this year. Ha!

I am REALLY thankful for this guy!

I am especially thankful that he can still travel with me, because he is loads of fun on the road.
I am thankful for my family.


I am thankful I got to get to know this guy a little better this year, too, and show him some of the possibilities of life.

I am thankful that I got a divorce and changed my entire outlook on life. Because without that divorce, I'd have never been a woman who could take this....

And make this...

Or tackle this.

Or this.
And succeed.

And I probably would have been better off if I hadn't tackled this....


..although my life would have been poorer for it.

I am thankful I got to see this.

I am thankful for southern Utah and northern Arizona. I am thankful for white sands. I am thankful for the Sierra Nevada, southern Wyoming, and yes, even Idaho. The verdict is still out on southeastern California.

I am thankful for lactase.

I am thankful for my self-confidence, sense of adventure, and "can do" attitude.

I am thankful for my job, my warm bed, my comfortable home, and that at 46, I can still find men who want to date me.

I am thankful for good beer, bordeaux, and strawberry daiquiris. I am especially thankful for the friends worth toasting.

I am thankful for the tolerance, generosity, and companionship of my friends and family.

I am thankful that at my age, I still have a grandparent living.

I am thankful that I had a fantastic father, who was able to give me 27 years of guidance and advice and was a spectacular role model--even though we couldn't be more different. I am especially thankful to him for my dashing good looks.

I am thankful for so many things in my life. But mostly I am thankful for those who make it worth living.

Thanks. It's a wonderful life full of great scenery, great companions and bad hair days.


Let's do it again next year!

Bird' Eye View

Up on the roof for a little Sunday afternoon repair. The work stinks. The angle is ridiculous. But the view is pretty neat.

Journalists who don't understand their profession

Three points in response to this unbelievable news out of St. Louis, MO. An anonymous poster to a blog linked to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch posted a one word comment in response to the question of the day: What is the strangest thing you've ever eaten?

His response: pussy.

The moderator of the blog deleted his post. The anonymous commenter re-posted his comment. (Probably thinking it hadn't gone through.) By mechanisms still not well understood by me, something called WordPress, sent Kurt Greenbaum, the author of the blog post and the STL Post-Dispatch's "Director of Social Media", an email, and.....well, why don' we let Kurt describe what happened next."

I deleted it [the second comment], but noticed in the WordPress e-mail alert that his comment had come from an IP address at a local school. So I called the school. They were happy to have me forward the e-mail, though I wasn’t sure what they’d be able to do with the meager information it included.

Well, I'll tell ya what they did with it. The IT department at the school were able to pinpoint the computer and the time and apparently, identify the poster because only one person had access to that computer at that time. So despite the fact that the STL P-D's privacy policy specifically states that they will not share information on posters with third parties without the poster's consent, Greenbaum did exactly that.

When confronted with the news that the anonymous comment had garnered a tattle-tale phone call from the blog owner, the school employee resigned on the spot.

Kurt Greenbaum then posted an account of the situation on the STL P-D website, whereupon he was summarily torn to shreds by every poster (save a handful) to the page.

I have three things to say about this.

1. The glee with which Kurt Greenbaum reports of a person losing their job for posting a mildly vulgar word qualifies him for mayor of Douchebaggerdale.

2. The fact that he vehemently defended his actions when everyone told him what a douchebag he was and the fact he felt blameless for forcing someone out of a job for something that was neither illegal nor immoral is further proof of his douchebaggery. What? You don't believe me? Look at this:

@Ghetto: Yeah, you caught me! I made him log on to his computer at work, visit STLtoday.com’s Talk of the Day, read the item, type a vulgarity and hit the “submit” key.

Interesting perspective. Thanks for your contribution.

Oh, I didn’t say he was fired. I said he resigned.

— Kurt Greenbaum 3:31 pm November 16th, 2009

or this:

Blocking IP addresses is a bad idea. You can accidentally block everyone from a particular place of business. I didn’t track down the guy. His place of work just showed up in the email alert because their servers were correctly configured.

Defend the guy who posted the vulgarity all you want. I’m not regulating someone’s thought. He can think whatever he wants. I’m moderating our boards. Follow our guidelines and this won’t be a problem for any of you.

Remember, I said it was a school, right? It could have been a student. I didn’t know who it was. I just thought the school might like to know about it. I sleep fine at night.

— Kurt Greenbaum 4:26 pm November 16th, 2009

Oh, the douchbaggery. It burns.

3. I wouldn't buy a STL Post-Dispatch if my life depended on it. If their Director of Social Media doesn't understand the nature of social media, he deserves to be fired for that alone.

I don't think I have ever heard of a bigger douche than this guy. But by god, don't call him a facist. At the St Louis Post-Dispatch, they'll call out your business for your personal thoughts.

Oh, and what warning do posters get to watch their language by the P-D? If you attempt to post, this is what appears in the comment box.

Share your thoughts here.... (Please keep it civil. Don't say anything you wouldn't in front of your mother.)

I guess these guys have never met my mother.

Massive fail, dudes.

So I got this idea....

I bought some fabric to make some pillowcases. And the more I got to looking at it, I got an idea for a project.

A bigger project.

I think this fabric would look awesome as my new padded headboard.

Mind you, I don't have any of the tools needed for this project, but I can dream.

And borrow.






Here's my inspiration.


And here's my vision.


So I need a bigger piece of fabric, a large piece of plywood, a lot of upholstery foam, cotton batting, a jigsaw, a staple gun, some spray adhesive, and some elbow grease. Let the borrowing begin!

I see a pattern here....

It's Sunday and I spent another one doing jobs around the house. This time, I am trying to be proactive rather than reactive. I bought and installed heat tape on the cold water line to the kitchen sink, which, as I learned sits directly against the back foundation of the house.

Here we go....I had a bit of a quandry when I started this project. The water pipe feeding the cold water in the kitchen sink had an obvious single pipe ending point. But about 3' from the sink, it broke off into two different pipes. One pipe went straight back, had a shut off valve on it and then went directly into the ground. The other pipe veered off to the right and went through another foundation wall into the crawl space proper. I didn't know which one to put the tape on, so I opted for the one that had the greatest distance above ground. So I went to the right. This you can see in the insulation tape photo. In any event, I put the heat tape around the pipe and then wrapped pipe and tape with 1/2" insulation. For those who are interested, the pipe to the far right in the foam wrap is the hot water delivery. I don't have quite the same issues with the hot water as the cold water.


I had a little insulation left over, so I decided to try to insulate the crawl space "door" as best I could.
And because I am a real girl, with real breasts, I could only reach in about 4' into the space. So despite the fact that I could fit both my shoulders through that opening, my breasts were far too great an obstacle to overcome, and that is why the tail of the heat tape is dangling. Oh, I suppose if I ever get my hands on one of those long-handled grippers that old people use to get into the top cabinets, I can actually fix this the right way. For now, I'm not happy about the dangle--especially the idea that is is reaching the ground--but electrical tape will not stick to stone and we must learn to live within our physical limitations.

I'm just glad no one besides Jake was there to witness the debacle of me backing out of that crawl space.

And what did I get for all my work? The satisfaction of spending my afternoon doing a project that no one can see. Oh well, think of the expense of burst water pipes that I am averting.

I'm speechless

This is the funniest thing I have seen in months. Hands down. Go Shane. Go Shane. Go Shane.

It happens every fall....

Every fall, I get the urge to make savory comfort food. And yes, it does distract me, albeit momentarily, from my never-ending quest for the perfect homemade pizza. But this year this moment of seasonal zen is particularly fun because I found an awesome heavy aluminum dutch oven at an antique store in Benton. I think it's from the 60s. The pan. Not the store.

Isn't she lovely?And such a fine piece of kitchen toolery inspires me to make such amazing concoctions as this one. Venison stew. Yum. I didn't even know I could make venison stew.


I served this with some yeast rolls topped with butter, rosemary, and sea salt. Sea salt is my new seasoning of choice. I'm looking for reasons to use it. If you've never had a roll topped with rosemary, cheat and buy the frozen yeast rolls and just top with said accoutrements.

To. Die. For.

In any event, I think I should get environmental bonus points for removing a deer from the ecosystem. And then eating it. Nom. Nom. Nom.

Oh, and then there's this little gem of a dish. Pintos and cornbread. Or, as my dad used to call them, soup beans. The pintos contain a generous sampling of thick cut carrots and salt pork. Oh, you thought this was a vegetarian dish? Silly you.

And the cornbread must, quite naturally, be prepared in a cracklin' hot cast iron pan generously greased with bacon fat. I think my dependence on the pork industry has just erased my environmentalist brownie points earned with the wild deer meat.

But we can no worry about that now. Notice, if you will, that when I cook like this, the pot seems to always be filled to the brim. That's not why I'm stirring this with tongs. Actually, I don't know why I'm stirring this with tongs. But I made that much so I can portion up the leftovers and freeze them for a day when I'm not feeling so cookworthy. Yeah, right. Like any of this is going to make it to the freezer. Reason #8314 why I will never be skinny.
Dayum, those beans are good. I think I'm ready for another piece of cornbread.

Pass the butter.

Sunday, Muddy Sunday

I spent three hours digging trenches under my house and repairing my sump pump to get rid of the water once and for all. These were the results.

Another Great Adventure Underway

I'm not a big fan of marriage, but weddings are fun.

Saturday, I watched these two beautiful people get married. I wish them well. I thank them for a wonderful day. I will remember this wedding when others are long forgotten.

Not in small part to Liv who, in addition to PhD candidate, can now add ordained minister to her CV.
She gave an excellent introduction to the couple. It was a non-traditional wedding to say the least, but the job got done.





And the little kid dancing with Melissa sure had some moves.

A Sustainable Future? A Response to J

Please see J's prescient post on our potential for a sustainable future. Because this response is too long, it won't fit on his comment section.

Ahh, the big question. Can humans live sustainably? My answer is simple: the environment carries a big stick and isn't afraid to use it to beat the crap out of us.

A plethora of B-movie scenarios are proposed for the time of scarce resources. The formula goes like this...resource inequities turn the world into a dyad of "haves" and "have nots". Governments of wealthy nations allow their populace to live beyond their means and the rest of the world be damned. When other nations come with their hands out, wealthy nations undergo a rapid culture shift, moving toward overt nationalism, intense isolationism, and a return to conservative values. This is a not so subtle way of saying, "If those people had worked harder and saved for a rainy day, they might have what we still have. Aren't we great?", and is one of the most ugly and obvious examples of First World privilege imaginable. (But I digress.) Ultimately, resources become so scarce that the government can no longer contain the situation and falls. Then it's every man for himself. Individuals and families hoard the remaining resources, hole up in our houses, and shoot all who attempt to enter. This also fails. (Think every zombie movie ever made.) After the family unit fails, the survivors (almost always very young people with one or two progressive old folks who can pass on accumulated knowledge) congregate in happy communes and human culture is reset to a more sustainable level. Lather. Rinse. Repeat every ten millennia or so.

Our alternative scenario is that we skip all the government control of the situation and go straight to the hippy-dippy commune approach. Not. Gunna. Happen.

There is a third option, and that is the one I think you are proposing. Technology and self awareness can give people the tools they need to maintain a first world standard of living, curb population growth, and feed every mouth in need. All we need is a paradigm shift in culture to get it there.

I maintain it won't work. Oh, I think it is physically possible (people CAN be taught to live within hard limits and exhibit self-restraint) but the cultural jumping off point precludes it. Somehow, American culture has embraced the idea that we get to decide our own reality. And as goes American culture so goes the world. Let me give you an example. I spent this morning reading an internet board that I can only describe as the "To vaccinate or not to vaccinate: that is the question facing the inept" fiasco. There are people who are convinced that there is a conspiracy between the government and Big Pharma to kill them, that scientists are doctoring clinical trials purposely to bring bad product to market, and that any money made off of of meds renders the entire profession corrupt. Remarkably, these same people who think capitalism in the medical profession is bad also think that government programs that make medical services available to the masses are also bad. So capitalism AND socialism be damned. For fuck's sake, J, nothing can save these morons. In the absence of a real disease outbreak here in the United States (I don't think Americans believe it can happen here even if it happens in Europe) that wipes out a significant portion of the population, nothing will convince these idiots of the error of their thinking. I say, let them skip the vaccinations. Just kick their children out of public school, let them contract small pox, and corral their idiot behinds in quarantine camps.

But the point here is, when did it become okay for people to decide whether to accept facts, whether or not to "believe" scientific findings, and whether or not to act in a way that places not only themselves, but others in grave danger?

Humans have all the intelligence, knowledge and physical power necessary to actually bring ourselves back from the edge. But we won't. It is one reason that I think Obama might actually fail. The birthers, the anti-vaccination crowd, the climate-change deniers all seem to be living in an alternate universe that the educated, thinking man can't penetrate. They are so gripped in their own ignornace and conspiracy theories that they can't see what idiots they really are. While they may not be the majority, they are the lowest common denominator. And we "leave no idiot behind". The vast majority of people would rather wallow in ignorance right up to the moment that they trip into their mass grave. Humans are smart, but we aren't rational. We clasp to prior knowledge even when doing so harms us. If we were rational, religion would have disappeared generations ago. We can justify the most outrageous behavior.

Furthermore, a culture shift demands that the majority follow the rules. What biological population is able to control all its members?

I taught an entire course on environmental issues in which we discussed the problems of oil extraction and refining, the probem of carbon release and climate change, the problems of grwing population size and world hunger. I STILL had a kid tell me toward the end of the semester he wasn't going to give up his gas-guzzling car because "chicks dig it".

Humans are animals and please, tell me one biological population that is not (ultimately) controlled top-down (by predation, parasitism, viral attack, etc.), laterally (by competition), or bottom-up (by environmental controls). Tell me one.

Consider for example, our cultural expectation of monogamy. There are always extra-couple copulations. Why? Because even when there is the expectation of monogamy, individuals maximize their offspring's survival chances by investing in a variable set of genes. Sure, one of those offspring may be the most fit today, but what about when conditions change rapidly? Variation is good. Variation is the stuff of evolution. We will lie when culture works against our best interests. Sometimes we don't know why we act like we do, even when we act in defiance of cultural norms. I maintain there is always an element of biological determinism at work.

And unlike those in the "can humans exhibit enough self-restraint to prevent disaster", I propose that humans are controlled hardest by the limits set by the environment. If we improve technology we will merely increase the carrying capacity of the Earth. We will continue to fill all available space until the environment pushes back. We will bicker and fight and joust among one another like chickens in coop.

I think there are an enlightened few capable of sacrificing their own self-interests for the greater good. Perhaps they can change the mass culture, but I doubt it. Maybe these few are the founders of the hippy-dippy communes, but the masses are far too distrusting and stupid to make it work. I think martial law is just about the only way to achieve peaceful (?!!) sustainability. The other alterantive is to let the Earth take care of itself.

I realize I have rambled here and not stuck to the true intent of your original post, but I think maybe I was working through this as I wrote my response. It would be great if we somehow could educate our way into this sustainable future. I don't think I'm likely to see it in my lifetime, but I could be wrong.

TKOd by my Mom

Ok, so tell me if this has ever happened to you.

I was sleeping the other night and started having a weird dream. I was kneeling near the edge of the couch where my mother was sitting and suddenly, out of nowhere, she punches me in the head.

I look at her for a minute and then ask incredulously, "Did you just hit me in the head?"

To which she responds by pinching me repeatedly on the forearm. And it hurt. And she wasn't stopping. So I finally got fed up and thought, "I'm just going to squeeze her arm until she quits." And I did.

And that's when I woke up. Because I had done this. I had jabbed my fingernails into my skin and taken out a big bunch. Only this wasn't a dream. The reality was that I had a large slice of skin underneath my fingernails.

Needless to say, I called my mom in the morning and told her to quit beating me up in my dreams.

Did my man earn the prize?

Barack Obama today was awarded the Nobel Prize for Peace.

Huh?

Did he earn the prize? Ummm. No.

If someone can tell me exactly what peace he achieved, perhaps my mind will be swayed. Until then, the value of a Nobel Prize has gone done a few notches in my mind.

I Suck

This is a night-blooming cereus. AKA Star of Bethlehem. It's in my house. It's on my plant.

This is a spectaclar flower that blooms on an otherwise ugly plant. Seriously ugly plant. The only reason anyone keeps one of these plants in their house is that the flower, no matter how infrequent the blooms may come, is spectacular to behold.

Imagine my joy at learning that I had a bloom on my plant after only four years. (Some people have to wait much, much longer.)

Only there is one problem. I discovered the blossom after the plant had flowered.

Did I mention that the flower lasts only one night?

I must be the only botanist on Earth who gets a night-blooming cereus to bloom and then MISSES THE WHOLE FREAKIN' THING. So for your benefit and mine, I'm including a time lapse video from YouTube of what a night-blooming cereus is SUPPOSED to look like and why I keep this God-awful ugly plant in my house.

Enjoy. I wish I could.

Jake at 13 14

My dog. 13 years old. Still got the puppy attitude.

Sometimes I feel sorry for you

AKA Parmesan polenta stuffed fire-roasted poblano peppers with a black bean mole accompanied by jasmine rice and a roasted finger chili salsa.

Yes, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, D, why didn't you just save yourself the trouble and make a black bean ragout? Call it whimsy. And why Parmesan? (Because I can't have soft cheeses, they don't agree with me.) Rice and polenta? Yes, I think it probably was a little heavy on the starch, but...darn it...those flavors were just meant to go together.

Just a little something I threw together after a particularly productive day at the Farmer's Market.

Yeah. Sometimes I feel sorry for you guys.

The world's longest learning curve

This has been an interesting year. Usually when someone tells me they've had an interesting year, it is usually always positive. In many ways my interesting year has been positive.

I got a fellowship that will pay for my research. (FINALLY!!!)
I got a raise with said fellowship.
I got the data I need to make meaningful progress on my research.
I had a couple of dates.
I got to travel again all over the west and I got to take Jake with me.

But on the other hand, much of my interesting year has been..well...I don't want to say negative but something of the "lessons learned the hard way" variety. There was a short period of time in my life....from about the ages 24-27, that I felt I changed significantly. Around that time I felt like my thinking came into clear focus and I began to "consciously" live my life instead of just living from day to day, taking whatever came my way. I was deciding how I felt about the world and my place in it. I figured it for a normal growth pattern--part of the process of growing up.

I don't mean to imply that I thought I had it all figured out (although youth is notorious for that), I just felt like I was self-aware. Today, I realized that at no time since in my adult life have I changed that much. That was, until this year. This year feels like a second growth spurt.

I noticed quite early this year, that I had become increasingly quiet. I didn't talk as much as I used to. I didn't impress my opinions on others like I had done as a young adult. I didn't really enjoy debating EVERY LITTLE THING like I once did. I did get mad and get all "henked up" as Bek says, but usually only when I felt like I was the victim of some injustice. But recently, I haven't felt a need to comment or speak up or lead a discussion where I wanted it to go. I've relinquished leadership positions. It isn't that I don't care. I care a great deal about things and people and the world. In fact, I think I care more now than I did in my youth. I have wondered whether my education has caused me to talk less and listen more. Or maybe I realized that all that energy and hot air I expended never changed a thing. Or maybe it's a trait that comes with age. Or maybe I was just getting tired. Or apathetic. I found it curious, but certainly not so curious that I thought it abnormal.

I'm not sure whether it accentuated or exacerbated the problem, but I traveled extensively this year. I love to travel. I must have been a gypsy in a former incarnation. Most of that time D-dog Jake was my only companion. Jake doesn't say much on a trip. When you spend that kind of time alone, your bad habits begin to come into focus. Or perhaps I should say, more appropriately, your personality defects begin to emerge from that quiet place where they usually hide when you're paying attention. With no on there to distract me, the irritating things I did didn't have a haze of activity and conversation to purge them from my short-term memory. I had no one there to agree with me when I wanted to put my own spin on a situation. Eventually, I just had to deal with the facts and the fallout alone. On one of these trips, I had a conversation with a man I was dating and that conversation went badly, then went from bad to worse, and then from worse to relationship ending. I realized that I drove that conversation to its natural conclusion. It was like I couldn't help myself. It was like watching a train wreck but being impotent to stop it.

At the same time, I experienced a rather abrupt change in my primary professional relationship--and with that one I was strapped in the passenger seat. I am still unclear why this change happened and whether I contributed to the relationship's decline. I don't know what will be the ramifications of this change. All I know is that things were said to me that I found unfair, unfounded, and unforgivable. I felt betrayed. And I never saw it coming. I haven't forgotten those painful words, but neither have I have spent months analyzing what happened. Perhaps it was the severity of the comments that prevented me from taking them seriously. Like the way that deep cuts don't hurt. You just sit there and watch them bleed with some sense of awe. Somehow I managed simply to put the issue aside. To leave it alone. To not deal with it as a way of dealing with it. Yes, my relationship with this person is permanently damaged. Where before we were often friendly and shared life events with one another, now there is nary a word that passes between us that isn't work related. I have simply accepted that this person must honestly believe those hurtful things she said, and move on. I am not going to let someone else's bad opinion of me stand in the way of my goals.

I realized, in quite glaring terms this summer, that I'd do well to shut up most of the time. Not every thought in my head needs an ear. And I learned this as those thoughts piled up in the ears of people that I didn't necessarily want to push away. In the work relationship, I think I've done the right thing. I don't think about what passed between us, I simply don't think about her at all. By ignoring the offense I've managed to maintain at least a workable relationship. In the personal relationships, I did the wrong thing and both were lost.

Which brings me to today and the reason for this post. I went to a meeting today in support of my peers in a fellowship program. My peers wished to express some concerns they had about an assignment. They had questions. They felt abused. They felt the need for solidarity to have their concerns taken seriously. Whether or not I agree with their concerns (which actually, I did), I certainly agree that professional issues need to be addressed in a professional manner. They appeared dedicated to addressing their concerns in a professional manner. This I can and did support with my presence.

The group set up a meeting with "management". As is usually my habit these days, I think it is important that younger people get some experience doing the hard things in life. So when the time came to speak, I allowed them to speak. They fumbled a bit. They were apologetic but determined. They were nervous. They perhaps could have more clearly thought out how to communicate their concerns. Unpolished, yes. But they were never, ever unprofessional. I sat quietly and listened as one professional member of "management" blew a gasket and called our concerns "outrageous" and "unbelievable", and then stomped out of the room never to return to the meeting. I watched all this transpire with a sort of "wow, you don't see that every day" sort of disbelief. I didn't personalize it. I didn't internalize it. I didn't accept responsibility for it. I recognized it for what it was. Bat-shit crazy behavior. I realize that while I witnessed bat-shit crazy behavior, I didn't have to "deal"with bat-shit crazy behavior. I don't have to feel guilty just because someone else hopes I will. I don't have to smooth over ruffled feathers or speak my mind. I don't have to do jack shit. And that is probably the smartest thing I could have done. After the meeting had concluded, I told the remaining manager that our purpose was to ask questions and express concerns and discuss an issue of common concern. Our purpose was not to attack management. I felt that was the most important thing that should be communicated to the manager who stomped off. And then I stopped thinking about it.

Tomorrow is another day and I have bigger fish to fry.

I wish I'd just figured that out before I fubared two personal relationships in one year.

Am I fearless?

I was reading through a series of blog posts by The U, and dude got me to thinking. He posed a simple question. If you were to make this statement:

“What I feared has come upon me; what I dreaded has happened to me.”¹

What would you be talking about?

That got me thinking. This isn't about fear of dying. Death removes all fear or dread. Job intended to convey a fear he had to live with. What befell Job was, to him, a fate much worse than death. A fate from which there was no relief. If Job's fate befell me, what would that circumstance be? What is it I fear most?

I have accepted that those close to me will die one day, as will I. Death is a part of life. I don't fear it or dread it. Illness leading to death, no matter how painful, slow, or debilitating is also a part of life. I don't welcome it, but neither do I dread it. Dying as a result of some awful accident? Really, does it matter the form in which death comes? It is coming and it is relentless.

Loss of my senses. Sight. Hearing. Troublesome, yes. But I would adapt and lead a full life, I think. Loss of limb. A mere inconvenience. Paralysis. I'd learn to do wheelies in my chair. Can't communicate? I have a full life going on inside my head most of the time anyway. My thoughts would just be my little secret.

So what am I afraid of? Loss of freedom? Having to be or forced to be dependent on someone? I have a brother in prison. While I agree that prison is not an enviable lifestyle, I think I would survive it.

Rape? As someone who has dealt with sexual assault, I can say with confidence that it can be overcome.

Being alone? I'm not one to get lonely. Fear of dying alone? We all die alone.

Fear of failure? Fear that I have wasted my life? Fear of being forgotten? Fear that I will disappoint my loved ones? Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. I will fail. I have wasted a grand portion of my life. I will be forgotten. I have disappointed my loved ones.

I think people who have children have fears I will never know. Fear for a child's health and safety. Fear for their future. Those are not my fears.

I was beginning to wonder if I was fearless. But then something began to nag at me. Something small. And the more I thought about it, the more the lack of it seemed to fill me with an emptiness that I didn't want to consider. Because I am living with that thing I dread everyday.

My fear is that I will die before I know love. I'm 46. I'm past the halfway mark here. I haven't found a loving relationship in my adult life. I don't know what it is like to love and be loved in return. I have looked, not looked, waited, pursued, turned over rocks, kissed frogs, given up, taken up the search again. Zilch. Nothing. Nada. I'd love to say I loved my husband, but it's a lie. I don't know what a loving relationship feels like. I don't know what an honest love between a man and a woman feels like.

Funny thing. Unlike Job, for whom the thing he dreaded most arrived on his doorstep and settled in for the long haul, I live every day with that thing I dread most, and the only thing that keeps me going is the hope that one day it will move along and leave me to my happiness.