...friend/Ned

Catch up on…June’s love life

First of all, I’m not back together with Ned, and I’m not sleeping with Ned.

Okay, once.

As you know, from your Big Book of–oh, hell, like two days ago, I told you that since I changed my mind at the last minute about which house I wanted to buy, I ended up being homeless for about 10 days.

I closed on my house the day a hurricane was coming. The news was obsessed. Flo is on its way! No hurricane in the history of time will be as bad as Florence! You thought Florence from The Jeffersons was bad, wait till you see THIS, sucka!

Didn’t she always call Mr. Jefferson “sucka”? Why wasn’t she terminated?

They ended up moving the time of my closing to earlier in the day so that we could all get our business done before we washed out to sea. I was just excited that if a tree fell on my old house, I’d not be responsible.

Twasn’t an unfounded fear, as a HUGE tree fell in my old neighbor’s yard. It’s still there, last time I creepy crawled my old house. (The new owner’s put up a privacy fence and a screen door in the front and fixed the deck, and when I spoke to her once, she told me she’d painted the whole inside neutral.)

So on the first day of Hurricane Florence, I went to the shabby old downtown office of a shabby old attorney who was clearly suffering from some sort of personality disorder, and we signed the 20204023 papers that he had to reprint because he’d misspelled my name on all of them.

My real name. It’s f-e-l-d. It doesn’t have an “i” in it.

THERE IS NO FIELD IN JUNE GARDENS.

Anyway, after we finished with Mr. Personality, up there, in the law offices of Smile, Chat and Eye Contact, LLC, the rain was starting to fall, and the sky had an otherworldly feel.

I like how this is supposed to be a rundown of my love life and is instead a blow-by-blow account of my closing date.

The point is, they were predicting this giant hurricane and the 40 pets and I had just moved in with Ned temporarily. There were all sorts of dire warnings about not going anywhere, so Ned stocked up on eggs, oranges, beans, rice and beer, while I stocked up on Beefaroni.

And then we were stuck together in a hurricane house for days on end. I mean, we weren’t allowed to go anywhere, which by the way ended up being sort of a hurricane who cried wolf and not that strong here, and then like two weeks later another hurricane

came through and was scary as shit.

Oh my god, June, get to your vagina.

Right, so, Ned and I lived together for 10 days, and we got along great. It was like the first days of our relationship, minus the bone-chilling fear that he’d leave me that I had during those first years. So we were having fun living together, and we were stuck in the house for days, and bing, bang, boom, there it was. We Did It.

Hey, mom.

But we are not back together by any stretch. We aren’t even speaking, currently, but when we are speaking, I can tell Ned is out there on the prowl. And the greatest part is, I give no shits about that. Go. Find a new person. I hope she’s a succulent. I was an orchid.

I sound bitter. Maybe I am, a bit, because I’d set my sights on him so much. But we’re too different to ever be a thing again.

You know what I want? I want a man who comes over on a Friday and stays through Sunday. Actually, now that I write that, that sounds horrendous. Get the fuck out of my house.

But I want someone who can just hang out, is I guess what I mean. With Ned, we always had to be doing something or have some kind of plan. We were always on a date. We could never just be. We were never just reading our books on the couch, with no plan in mind, not even when we lived together. Ned was always, “What do you want to do now?” and if I didn’t want to do anything, he’d leave. “Well, then I’m gonna ride my bike.”

There was a level of intimacy missing from that. At least that’s how I saw it.

So as for someone new, nope. And I’m not even trying. I’m not on any dating sites right now. I had a bad date on Good Friday, and that’s the last one I recall. Last Saturday I saw Ward, a man I went out with a few times in 2017, but I don’t know if it counts as a date. We’ve texted sporadically since then.

I think maybe at this age, there just aren’t many good men. You know who’d be the best, probably? Widowers. At least they made the relationship work till they offed their wives. I should hang around the funeral homes, or maybe grieving groups.

“What are you grieving?”

“The elasticity of my skin.”

I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t care if I never meet another man or have another relationship. Maybe that sounds sad and dreadful and Miss Havisham-ish to you, but there it is. I don’t feel sad and dreadful, I just feel sort of resigned. Contrary to what they say, there is not a lid for every pot, and I don’t even want anyone to put a lid on me.

It might be that I’m too set in my ways.

So that wraps up June’s love life and oh! For some reason, many people really want to know why Nancy, Ned’s cat, was a twat. There was much interest in the land re Nancy’s twatitude.

When Nancy lived at my house, when I was fostering her kittens, she never met the other pets. Then she moved in with Ned, and then 10 months later we all traipsed in one day and she wasn’t having it.

IMG_8980.jpeg
wut in fuq
IMG_8956.jpeg
edz luff unk nedz howse

The other pets were fine with HER, but she was never fine with THEM. She spent 10 days growling.

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%##&*$.

For a normally cheerful cat, she was just a stripy bag of bitch that whole time. So that dashes any hopes Ned would have for getting a second cat. Not that that wouldn’t take him seven years of “deciding” anyway.

So now you know.

Catch you tomorrow, you stripy bags of bitches,

June

52 thoughts on “Catch up on…June’s love life

  1. The new owner of your old house painted the entire inside neutral? After all you and your faithful readers did to choose colors? Some people.

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  2. Single life is wonderful. What, when, where, how much, whether or not are questions you answer on your own without having to consider another person’s opinion. You aren’t a half looking for your other half. You’re a person in your own right, so live your best life on your own terms. Besides, if you’re like I am, there’s no room in your closet for another person’s clothes.

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  3. 53 now and haven’t had the desire to seek out a new relationship/boyfriend since my divorce 6 years ago. I don’t miss dating and my age seems to have killed my libido, so I’m fine with just my occasional date with my vibrator. TMI. I have spoken.

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  4. The “All my furniture all across the yard” veeedeo about did me in. Seeing the four chairs orderly lined up, dying!

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  5. Lovely post Coot. Thankfully I have one of those men who is just fine with sitting reading or spending a weekend curled up on the couch. I was with one of those on the go all the time, got to be doing something, I’m bored, type men before and it was exhausting. I felt like Gypsy Rose having to do the Let Me Entertain You number over and over. Again number 788,999,087,576 why he is an Ex.
    Nancy looks like she was probably Ned’s jealous wife in another life.
    Ok, so that covers, House, Pets, Work and Love-life. Now we need to know how your health and migraines are. I mean I am over here still wearing all the ribbons. I have the ribbon for the cough, and one for blight and the other one for when you had coxcilliousis of the blow hole. I just need to know what ribbon to add.
    Yours truly
    Gladys

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  6. I feel like I am Netflix-binge-ing your life. It’s kinda fun!

    (also HA! You said “blow”! about Ned!)

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  7. Well yeah why worry about a relationship at this point. Sounds like things are great in your life. Thank you so much for writing. Cracking me up as usual.

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  8. I am at the far end of 50 and feel that should my husband kick the bucket before me there would be no dating. I have family and friends ( a lot of whom are of the manly persuasion) but there is no way I see myself getting naked in front of anyone else ever again.
    Nancy’s attitude reminds of of the housecat in Babe who thought she lived with the Boss and farm animals worked for the Boss’ Husband.

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    1. She’s very attached to Ned. He thinks she might have Siamese in her, and apparently they get weird about one person. She just gazes at him like he hung the moon. New flash for Nancy: He did not hang any damn moon.

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      1. I have a Siamese and he is definitely like that. However, fortunately, he likes other animals.

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  9. Don’t join a widower’s website. Unless you want to live with a huge shrine to the dead wife in the house. The men on the widows/widowers website that I belong to (see dead fiancee) are a bit much and their late wives are saints. Could we just have one that says., “Man she was a total Nancy!”

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    1. Some widowers just want someone to take care of them like their wives did. One went to the minister at our church and asked for a list of all the single women, but didn’t get it. At the beginning of the line at a pot luck dinner he was acting helpless about getting his own plate/silverware/napkin and was expecting help. My mother, who knew he’d asked for the list, piped up and said something on the line of, “You’re a grown man, just get yourself!”

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  10. I remember the news stating the Florence was going to be the worst hurricane in a while and being scared AF about it. Work was canceled for several days ahead of the storm and everything, but luckily, like you, minimal damage here–the one two weeks later was probably a bit worse (probably because I had to drive home in that one).

    I understand what you mean about Ned and there being a disconnect in intimacy. I think being able to “hang out” with one another without having some set of plan is important. Sure, in the earlier stages of dating, it’s nice to explore and do things “out” together, but as you get further into the relationship, I don’t think that should be necessary all of the time. I’ve recently gotten to the point in my own relationship where we’re starting to do more of the “chilling in” thing and it’s been great.

    I wish you the best of luck with your dating life. I’m sure you’ll meet someone who will be wonderful for you!

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  11. Without ever being as brave as you in trying to date, I also became resigned to singleness. For a while that resignation was the lonely and pitiful sort, but it became a contentment and appreciation of what is. I love how you summed it up: not wanting a lid. I look around and see too many relationships with controlling partners and I want none of that. I don’t need no stinkin’ lid. Glad you’re back.

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    1. To be fair, she had to have sec with David Bowie all those years. I’d clamp that shit tight, too. (I know, I’m the only person who can’t stand David Bowie.)

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  12. You’re not Miss Havisham unless you’re sleeping in a wedding dress. At least, that’s how I remember it, and I’m not going to go back and reread Dickens to find out whether I’m right or not.

    There’s no “I” in G-A-R-D-E-N-S! 2 months before I let myself watch that movie again (every year on Christmas, I have rules, you know…).

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  13. I am in the land of considering swearing off relationships as well. They are so dadgum frustrating at this stage of life. Men are set in their ways, they have complications with kids, elderly parents, emotional baggage, etc. Why the hell I thought dating was hard back in my teens and 20s I don’t know. It was nothing compared to dating at 50.

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  14. I am a happily married girl who plans to outlive her husband. (He knows. He approves.) And once I am just me, I will be OK with that. The days of thinking we need to find our other half are gone and done. We are whole people in and of ourselves. It’s fun to have someone with whom you can enjoy movies or dinner out or taking a walk or chatting or just sitting and reading… but it’s not necessarily all the same person.

    As far as that whole pot-lid theory, maybe some of us are woks. Don’t need no lid.

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  15. Okay, before I go up and read everyone’s comments, I just gotta say this was classic June Gardens, I was smiling the whole way through, not wanting the post to end. CLASSIC, I tell ya!!

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  16. Relationships at this stage in life are tricky. It’s not that I don’t want a relationship, it’s that I haven’t been on a date with anyone that I want to spend any time with. I haven’t met a single person that I could get excited about spending time with.

    I am glad you are back to blogging!!

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  17. I came to the same conclusion about men a few years ago. (I’m a few years older than you.) And I am SO MUCH HAPPIER! I don’t think about dating at all. No trying to meet someone. No horrible dates. No trying to make a relationship work with someone who isn’t for me. And best of all, no dealing with someone else’s mounds of baggage. It can get a little lonely occasionally, but it is so freeing. I hope you feel the same peace.

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      1. But what about the brown chicken, brown cow? I am in general agreement with y’all. I don’t have.the strength or interest to date anymore, but I really miss a pair of strong arms and physical closeness with someone.

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        1. I find myself caring less and less about brown chicken brown cow. As a friend of mine said, who shall remain nameless but whose initials are Jo, once you hit menopause, you get your brain back, because you stop caring about sex all the time. At least that’s sort of my experience.

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  18. I don’t know why everyone thinks it’s sooooo important to be “in a relationship,” whether it be marriage or otherwise. Honestly, most of the time they are not what they are cracked up to be. I truly think you’re fine with your thoughts and decision. You have a wonderful, full life, with friends and some benefits. If you ever decide that you do want someone special, just for you, then go for it but always make sure your decision is just that: your decision and not peer (or other) pressure.

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    1. Hah! Does anyone remember my diary from when I was 10? My friend stayed with us for a few weeks and I wanted to punish her with NO FOOD for not cleaning her side of the room. Hashtag I Was Nancy.

      >

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  19. This post made me laugh out loud several times. You are an amazing writer and since you have been vacationing (not blogging at your not blog) I haven’t found a single writer that even comes close to your writing ability…taking the readings to the brink of sadness, ready to fall on the floor in a heap of tears, then jerking us back into sudden laughter.

    Poor Nancy, her house was invaded. I feel the same after about three days of guests. Just leave. Also, too, I have introduced my husband to Milhous, he asked about his name and I told him his name is Milhous because he lives in a milhouse.

    I would love to hear about your new neighbors.

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  20. It sounds like you’re in a good place both literally and figuratively. I’m happy for you. And SO happy you’re back!

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  21. Nancy looks like she spent the time yelling into other rooms, “Ned!” (not Dad) “We’re being invaded!” “Ned! They’re putting their dirty paws on my couch!”

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  22. It sounds like you are in a good place with work, Ned, your house, etc. I am happy for you. Now, if you could get on some hormones and get rid of those hot flashes, you’d be all squared away!

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