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Bonnie Simon, Author at All The Single Girlfriends - Page 3 of 3

Voting for Birthdays

May 31, 2011 by

“Do you have a birthday coming up?”, I wrote.  “Skipping it, thanks.”, my friend wrote back. Really? I find this hard to understand. Why would anyone skip an opportunity for birthday cake, balloons and the possibility of sparkly confetti? It’s not just the bright colors that make birthdays a delight.  Every birthday is a chance to celebrate the lives of those we love, and even those we merely like!  What makes them so fearsome to adults? Whatever you think about aging, it’s hard to argue for the alternative.  Someone ought to caution us not to let the inexperience of youth inform our opinion of age.  What treasures will the lucky ones find?  What does a person know at 95 that she didn’t know at 55?  Why decide we don’t want to be older before we...

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Chicken Faith

May 16, 2011 by

“…And their sayings appeared before them as idle talk, and they were not believing them.” So says Luke 24:11 about the reaction of Jesus’ disciples when the women told them Jesus was risen.  Silly, irrational girls.  Don’t worry your pretty little heads about such weighty spiritual matters. I learned about this at an Easter service last month.  I love Easter.  It’s a holiday of second chances, what with its story of springtime after such a bitter winter.  Our weather here in Colorado mimics the metaphor.  We had snow last night and a luscious rain today.  My chickens hide under the deck when it snows, but they run around looking like tiny, passionate dinosaurs in the rain. Aren’t women sometimes compared to hens?  No doubt, the idea comes from our similarities.  Hens are usually found...

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Clutter and Keys – How My Mother Taught Me to Live a Satisfying Life...

May 6, 2011 by

Much to my dismay, I had to cancel the housecleaning service this week. I’ve outsourced my housecleaning as long as I can remember and I’m annoyed that I can’t reconcile paying for cleaning now that I’ve willfully quit my job.  My housemate finds this amusing. “I just clean a little every day,” she says.  “Just as my mother taught me.” My mother probably tried to teach me the same thing, but in my contrary way I cultivated a trait usually ascribed to men.  I don’t see dirt.  More accurately, I don’t see clutter.  Dirt can be used to grow things and captures my interest.  Clutter, on the other hand, is simply my organizational system. It seems natural to me to overlook the clutter because of its low priority.  My mother did many things while...

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Spontaneous Cattle Herding

Apr 27, 2011 by

This week, I did pull ups and push presses.  I did heavy overhead squats and yoga that left my shirt damp.  Let this information establish my credibility as a person who can do hard physical work.  And then let me tell you that four hours of farm work wore me out! I now view farmers with increased admiration.  They are agricultural superheroes, able to plant 20,000 onions by hand and convince a bull to go back into his pasture with no tool more protective than a sweatshirt, all in one afternoon! The story behind that last one goes like this… A group of about 14 of us planted onions at Venetucci Farm one morning.  Another volunteer and I hung around to plant leeks in the afternoon.  We were organizing to head up the hill...

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Living a Dangerous Life

Apr 20, 2011 by

Everyone knows it’s dangerous to, say, ride a motorcycle or eat saturated fat, but somehow we miss the inherent danger of being alive. My husband died of acute leukemia.  In June of 2008, we were living ordinary lives.  In July, I took Dave to the doctor for what we thought was diverticulitis, common to 45 year old men and easy to cure.  In August, he was trapped in the hospital on chemotherapy and by the end of September, he was gone.  The whole hospital episode, from diagnosis to death, took six weeks. Is it any wonder it seems to me that we barely control anything in our lives?  Trouble will find you, even if you’re perfectly still.  What kind of world is this?  The raw truth is that it’s a world where the person...

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Home Alone With Ice Cream

Apr 7, 2011 by

It’s Friday night and I am home alone, angry at the sink.  This is ridiculous, of course, but I feel as if I have been doing dishes all the livelong day and couldn’t the sink please split itself into equal halves so that I can wash this very large pan in the section with the disposal.  It stubbornly refuses and I mumble curses at it. I’m not really angry at the sink.  I’m feeling sorry for myself.  All I need now is a pint of ice cream to eat directly from the container. I text a girlfriend who has invited me out, “I’m too busy feeling sorry for myself, it’s the dating thing again”.  “OMG, me too!!”, she texts back.  I like that about this friend.  She is like me.  We are surrounded by...

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Goats and The City

Mar 25, 2011 by

  I got to milk goats!  I got to milk goats! Really!  I did!  Eight of my friends and I spent a sunny morning last week with The Goat Cheese Lady, learning to make cheese.  The Goat Cheese Lady, also known as Lindsey, lives right here in Colorado Springs with her lovely family and a small herd of backyard goats. Goats make charming companions, a fact we discovered when they let us milk them and even hold their newborn babies without complaining.  A goat even joined a conversation I was having with a preteen friend.  I turned to this goat and said, “Oh, hello!” and my politeness brought my friend delight as only a ten year old can express it.  Ten year old boys can be very charming too. The family also has backyard...

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A Soul in Cat’s Clothing

Mar 24, 2011 by

Spot the Cat is not doing well.  Spot is one of three cats who made the journey across the country with me after my husband died.  I call our little family “Bonnie and the Traveling Cats” because we all had to go.  We all had to change. Did you know cats can get heart disease?  Spot has it and it makes his little chest fill up with fluid.  He can’t breathe well.  I watch him try to carry on his normal feline activities while his chest heaves, trying to bring in enough air.  He is uncomfortable.  I can take him to the veterinary internal medicine specialist to have the fluid drained, but it scares him half to death and his chest fills right back up.  He is not getting better. How do I know...

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Cooking Under Pressure

Mar 18, 2011 by

This section has the lovely and catchy name of “Foodie Friday”, but I feel a disclaimer is in order for my contributions.  I don’t know that I am a  “Foodie”, so much as a “Mad Kitchen Scientist”.  My kitchen has seen many experiments, including such things as attempts to cook mystery farm share vegetables without finding out first what they are and flourless cookie tests that include control groups. Recently, I got curious about my pressure cooker. Pressure cookers are very useful here in the mountains.  The air pressure is low at this altitude and water doesn’t get as hot before boiling, making it difficult to cook some things without extra pressure.  I am frequently teased by friends at sea level for being able to accomplish seemingly complicated feats like making my own yogurt...

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What Do Cats Dream Of?

Mar 15, 2011 by

This elderly little cat has lived with me since I was 25, before I was married.  To everyone’s surprise, she has outlived my husband and now she is a thin, gray creature with a touch of kitty dementia.  This is the cat who comforted him on the night before his death in the hospital, the one who played “home” with us in that tiny ICU cubicle.  This is the cat who was present when he died. Dave loved her and her image graces our shared headstone. That same image is tattooed on my left foot, a memorial to him, to her and to the life we shared.  I count my blessings that she is still with me, though I know she is in the winter of her life.  She snuggles under my arm now,...

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Trading Nightmares For Dreams

Mar 4, 2011 by

I’m sitting on the couch on Friday morning.  A train whistles, telling tales of its journeys to places I’ve never been.  Mornings like this, Colorado reminds me of W. Virginia. Snow-clouds hang heavy over the city, obscuring the ever-present mountains. I must simply have faith that they are still there, still standing over us, watching and waiting forever.  I cannot see them now, but then that’s the nature of faith, isn’t it? I love this place.  I love that I can see the constellation of city lights from my kitchen windows.  I love how the steam from the nearby power plant clings together and stays close to home when the temperature dips below zero.  Sometimes that steam even turns to snow and falls right back down on us, as if to say, “Good or bad,...

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