One of the hardest jobs is cleaning out the closets and other places where who knows what is stored. Over the years, so much stuff accumulates (in closets, the garage, under beds, in bins and baskets, on shelves, etc.), and after a divorce, one of the most therapeutic things you can do is go through every storage area and do some weeding. Warning--this project will most likely go on for months on top of months, but it absolutely has to be done.
It's best to go about this task in a very systematic way. My system was the 4-pile system. I would target a place of storage and sort the items inside into one of 4 stacks on the floor: things going to thrift stores or other non-profits (great for tax write-offs); things to be consigned for a profit; stuff to give away to various friends and relatives; and keepers.
As I went through the process, the keepers were neatly stored away while all of the other stacks were taken to their destinations as the piles accumulated significantly.
You'll reap many benefits from this project if you take your time.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Saturday, January 23, 2010
No Time For Cryin’ In Your Collard Greens—Girl, Get Your House In Order! Pt. 4
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the single life makeover continued. I found it useful, yea, even necessary, to move forward with the single life by doing a renovation of the visual images around the crib. That's the reason I gathered up the displayed "married couple" photos and promptly removed them from their frames. Though it would be a while before I got rid of these ghosts from my past life, at least I wouldn't have them staring me in the face all throughout the house.
As a temporary measure, on my way home from church one Sunday afternoon, I stopped at the mall to take pictures in one of those little photo booths. With the freshly shot single pictures in tow, it was off to a nearby business store to get a few of the new images enlarged. Until I could get professional ones done, the booth photos filled a few of the frames quite nicely. The rest of the frames were retired to a storage bin.
As a temporary measure, on my way home from church one Sunday afternoon, I stopped at the mall to take pictures in one of those little photo booths. With the freshly shot single pictures in tow, it was off to a nearby business store to get a few of the new images enlarged. Until I could get professional ones done, the booth photos filled a few of the frames quite nicely. The rest of the frames were retired to a storage bin.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
No Time For Cryin’ In Your Collard Greens—Girl, Get Your House In Order! Pt. 3
Because I was so emotionally drained from all of the divorce drama-rama, it was imperative for me to find a new church. I couldn’t stay at my old church because of too many mutual friends—you know how they do . . . all up in the business . . . trying to "help" (when all they really wanted to do was get more info for the rumor mill). Later for that foolishness, I had issues to resolve.
Now, finding another church was no small matter, mainly because my Christian beliefs are very central to how I try to live my life. So, the church hunt started with an afternoon of internet research on local churches. Although I knew I was looking for a house of worship in my current faith, I wouldn’t know if it was “the church” for me until I actually sat in the "atmosphere" and listened to what the minister had to say. So, after checking out many websites, three churches were targeted for visits in the coming weeks.
I tell you, finding a church with sound teaching, a warm atmosphere, non-meddling members, and good singing was like trying to unearth a diamond from beneath the earth. But, I would not settle for gravel when I knew there was a diamond to be found somewhere in my area. Nine weeks later, just when I started to stress out about my churchlessness, I found it--grant it, the church was 40 miles away, but it was still "home".
Now, finding another church was no small matter, mainly because my Christian beliefs are very central to how I try to live my life. So, the church hunt started with an afternoon of internet research on local churches. Although I knew I was looking for a house of worship in my current faith, I wouldn’t know if it was “the church” for me until I actually sat in the "atmosphere" and listened to what the minister had to say. So, after checking out many websites, three churches were targeted for visits in the coming weeks.
I tell you, finding a church with sound teaching, a warm atmosphere, non-meddling members, and good singing was like trying to unearth a diamond from beneath the earth. But, I would not settle for gravel when I knew there was a diamond to be found somewhere in my area. Nine weeks later, just when I started to stress out about my churchlessness, I found it--grant it, the church was 40 miles away, but it was still "home".
Thursday, January 14, 2010
No Time For Cryin’ In Your Collard Greens—Girl, Get Your House In Order! Pt. 2
First things first, that’s safeguarding the singleness. Like it or not, Baby Girl, when you’re pronounced single, you’re on your own. That’s why I dried my eyes, threw out those soppy greens, and took myself right down to the HD to buy new locks for all the doors and windows. Surprise, surprise--didn’t know I could change a door lock, but that night, I change three of them bad boys. And, a word of solid advice, if you don’t already have an alarm system, get one and use it. I did.
The next day, I took off from work. Not to worry, I had a full day’s work ahead of me--shutting down my old bank accounts, opening up new ones (with new pin #s and passwords), amending the list of beneficiaries, updating insurance policies, separating from previous credit card accounts, and changing my email address. By sundown, I’d done all of that and completed billing name changes for the utility and cable statements, too.
Whew! Your girl, Fedora C. is T-totally pooped just thinking about all that stuff. Gonna take an ice tea break for now. Don’t miss part 3 of “No Time for Cryin’ in Your Collard Greens.” Later . . .
The next day, I took off from work. Not to worry, I had a full day’s work ahead of me--shutting down my old bank accounts, opening up new ones (with new pin #s and passwords), amending the list of beneficiaries, updating insurance policies, separating from previous credit card accounts, and changing my email address. By sundown, I’d done all of that and completed billing name changes for the utility and cable statements, too.
Whew! Your girl, Fedora C. is T-totally pooped just thinking about all that stuff. Gonna take an ice tea break for now. Don’t miss part 3 of “No Time for Cryin’ in Your Collard Greens.” Later . . .
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Sidebar Before Going On With "No Time For Cryin’ In Your Collard Greens"
By no means, I repeat, no means should a freshly divorced chick even try to think she is ready to start dating before the ink dries on the divorce decree. Oh, so you disagree? Seriously! Listen to your girl, Fedora C. Okay. . . alright . . . I’ll talk about me right after my divorce. After the fight of and for my life, I was an emotional and financial train wreck.
Not only that, trust was a major issue. Remember Judas in the Bible? How he betrayed Jesus after being all up among the most trusted of Jesus' homeboys? Then, kapow-yow! The betrayal came, with a kiss no less. Betrayal kapow-yow is different from regular kapow-yow, because betrayal indicates that the person who betrays you was once a dearly, trusted confidant, right? (The closer the person, the deeper the wound)
And, though not seen on the outside, the scars left by divorce kapow-yow are as real as a huge keloid after a skin injury.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t one of those women who claimed they never saw it coming. No, I saw it coming—the whistles were blowing, the bells were ringing, the safety gates were lowered in place. But, just because you’re standing on the track, and you see the train approaching, doesn’t mean it won’t be hugely messy when the train hits. The hurt of betrayal and the uncertainty of putting yourself out there again are very real at the beginning.
You’ll work through the uncertainty and trauma, but it would be irresponsible of you, me or anybody else to take all of THAT into a new relationship.
Enough said on the sidebar topic. Back to not cryin’ in your collard greens.
Not only that, trust was a major issue. Remember Judas in the Bible? How he betrayed Jesus after being all up among the most trusted of Jesus' homeboys? Then, kapow-yow! The betrayal came, with a kiss no less. Betrayal kapow-yow is different from regular kapow-yow, because betrayal indicates that the person who betrays you was once a dearly, trusted confidant, right? (The closer the person, the deeper the wound)
And, though not seen on the outside, the scars left by divorce kapow-yow are as real as a huge keloid after a skin injury.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t one of those women who claimed they never saw it coming. No, I saw it coming—the whistles were blowing, the bells were ringing, the safety gates were lowered in place. But, just because you’re standing on the track, and you see the train approaching, doesn’t mean it won’t be hugely messy when the train hits. The hurt of betrayal and the uncertainty of putting yourself out there again are very real at the beginning.
You’ll work through the uncertainty and trauma, but it would be irresponsible of you, me or anybody else to take all of THAT into a new relationship.
Enough said on the sidebar topic. Back to not cryin’ in your collard greens.
Friday, January 8, 2010
No Time For Cryin’ In Your Collard Greens—Girl, Get Your House In Order! Pt. 1
Last time we were together, I posed this seemingly logical question, “I’ve been single before, how hard could it be?” Remember that? Well, here’s the answer in two words—CRAZY HARD! (And that’s real talk.) That revelation came to me one night right after a very hard “you so stupid” slap nailed me right between my overgrown eyebrows . . . even as I moaned and groaned in my plate of collard greens.
Seriously, after talking failed, counseling crumbled, and mediation went moot . . . and the divorce deal still went down, there was no time for crying in my collard greens. It was time, with God’s help, to get my affairs in order.
(Tune in next time for Part 2)
Seriously, after talking failed, counseling crumbled, and mediation went moot . . . and the divorce deal still went down, there was no time for crying in my collard greens. It was time, with God’s help, to get my affairs in order.
(Tune in next time for Part 2)
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
I’ve been single before . . . How hard could it be?
More than twenty years of marriage over and done—done and done, I tell you! It took less than ten minutes total. A few canned questions by an indifferent judge and a string of assorted divorce documents flung under pens in the ready hands of my ex and me, and almost a quarter century of life as I had known it was finished. My lawyer and my ex definitely laughed all the way to the bank, as I drove away from the courthouse with a heavy heart in my chest and a light wallet in my purse—truly a hollow victory.
The next morning I recalled the apathetic final words of the judge, “I declare that you are now both single adults.”
How was that possible? I’d been a married adult all of my adult life . . . married more years than I had been single. None of that mattered now, it was a done deal. The judge said so.
I repeated to myself, “I’m now a single adult...I’m single.”
After a few moments, I asked with confidence, “I’ve been single before. How hard could it be?”
The next morning I recalled the apathetic final words of the judge, “I declare that you are now both single adults.”
How was that possible? I’d been a married adult all of my adult life . . . married more years than I had been single. None of that mattered now, it was a done deal. The judge said so.
I repeated to myself, “I’m now a single adult...I’m single.”
After a few moments, I asked with confidence, “I’ve been single before. How hard could it be?”
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Hi, Y'all!
Your girl, Fedora C., here—throwin’ down my views and advice on mid-life singleness for us divorcees. (Or, as I like to call it, the gospel according to Fedora C.) Now, let’s get one thing straight from the get go. Your girl is not a shrink, nor am I trying to be one. If you need that kind of advice, skip my blog and check out Dr. P. If you’re not into Doc, there are hundreds of others like him to choose from, but I’m not one of them. I’m just on the single scene having fun and making a few “observations”. Aren’t you glad I cleared that up?
The other thing I’d like to clarify is what I mean when I say “single”. Small screen reality girls tend to use “single” synonymously with “no boyfriend”. For all intents and purposes, when I say “single”, I mean “without a husband” or not married. There’s a difference, my friends. Marriage is a serious level of commitment. Take a look at the marriage vows. All that talk about staying with the man in sickness and health . . . for better or worse . . . as long as you both shall live. Honey, please—you’d better pay attention to the words the preacher’s saying instead of wondering if you look cute in your wedding dress. It ain’t for play-play, it’s for real. When you go there in committing to your man, you have taken your relationship to a God level. And, it takes a sho nuff Godly commitment to promise to wash a person’s dirty drawers for the rest of your life.
Sorry, I stumbled a little off topic. Hm-m-m . . . where was I? Oh yeah--Now, hear this: Your girl has an opinion about everything . . . it is what it is—MY opinion. Good thing we live in the good ol’ U.S. of A, where it’s okay to have our own voice, right? When I speak my opinion, I’m not tryin’ to be politically correct, negate, or challenge how you choose to define anything or how you want to live your life. That’s you. This blog is about me and the other Fedora C.s of the world. Hope that point is clear . . . real clear.
Look how much we’ve accomplished in our first meeting—impressive, huh? It just gets better from here. In the next blog, find out more about Fedora C.. Until then, be blessed!
The other thing I’d like to clarify is what I mean when I say “single”. Small screen reality girls tend to use “single” synonymously with “no boyfriend”. For all intents and purposes, when I say “single”, I mean “without a husband” or not married. There’s a difference, my friends. Marriage is a serious level of commitment. Take a look at the marriage vows. All that talk about staying with the man in sickness and health . . . for better or worse . . . as long as you both shall live. Honey, please—you’d better pay attention to the words the preacher’s saying instead of wondering if you look cute in your wedding dress. It ain’t for play-play, it’s for real. When you go there in committing to your man, you have taken your relationship to a God level. And, it takes a sho nuff Godly commitment to promise to wash a person’s dirty drawers for the rest of your life.
Sorry, I stumbled a little off topic. Hm-m-m . . . where was I? Oh yeah--Now, hear this: Your girl has an opinion about everything . . . it is what it is—MY opinion. Good thing we live in the good ol’ U.S. of A, where it’s okay to have our own voice, right? When I speak my opinion, I’m not tryin’ to be politically correct, negate, or challenge how you choose to define anything or how you want to live your life. That’s you. This blog is about me and the other Fedora C.s of the world. Hope that point is clear . . . real clear.
Look how much we’ve accomplished in our first meeting—impressive, huh? It just gets better from here. In the next blog, find out more about Fedora C.. Until then, be blessed!
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