Author: Candid Corvid Productions

I have allowed both dogs onto my pristine bedroom rugs.

The hound loudly works at a bamboo forked bone.

The wolf regally rests her head against her own paws.

And the queen yowls, discontent after being put away for the night.

All is well as I wonder: can I finished my SOAP notes before her insistance bugs me?

Meanwhile, the song playing to “Betsy Drake: The Uncommon Star” lilts on repeat.

Add this to my many talents…

Oh yeah…

I need to look into singing lessons.

It looks like I’m functional…

Heh hee heh!

I have veen getting compliments and praise for my therapy melting muscle tension like magic.

Today I was called upon to help athletes who had pulled their lower backs unwind spasm torsions.

Seven sessions were performed on various levels – including returning to the office in the evening.

My muscles are now overworked but pumped up by intention’s stepping up to help “save the day.”

Through my dedicated efforts, it was amazing to help restore their integral sacral-hip movement.

She kept returning to where his soul used to be.

Isn’t this what we do when we lose good loving?

Couples are getting married and women are becoming pregnant around me.

I am making some mistakes, which is unusual for me. Perhaps I no longer need to be a superhero.

I will look into pet vet insurance to see if that can strengthen backup resources for my hound.

Even if you only have a couple of angles, work them hard and creatively to push beyond barriers.

Not having income or resources one can count on makes it hard to plan for longevity.

Not having a Bachelor’s limits employment income – unless you innovate as an independent contractor

Proceeding with pup needs resources to fund training and provide for any future medical care.

Living on the edge is not a suatainability plan.

During hardship, I still had my goals. Having to relinquish my Bachelor’s and hound is devastating (our queen is still in discussion).

I love everything about her:

Her long, delicate feet.

Her sleek, so short coat.

Her soft, floppy ears.

Her warm, brown eyes.

Her playful being.

Her sense of humor.

Her laughing teasing.

Her inteligent thinking.

Her inclusive loving me.

Even her mind-melting, high piched, psychic whining constantly telling me what she is wanting serves a purpose (though omg! lol)

I know she is still growing.

She needs patient training.

And a life of safe security –

Allowed to run more free.

She means so much to me.

It doesn’t feel right looking for rehoming.

But I want and need more assurances.

My insides are filled with anxiety.

Usually, I stick with everything.

What has happened to me?

Who am I becoming?

Single parents – as well as coupled parents – need external supports to get reprieve from duty so that they have recovery time in order to keep performing efficiently.

Being unable to switch places with your partner when things with children get too steamed.

People who refuse to uphold their end of a bargain no longer get to hold the same rank in once high positions. Example: unresponsive ex’s to the plight of their children.

A place where people thought reasonably?

Support and generosity in community?

A future without more depravity?

Letting go, she fell to the floor.

Is it any surprise after what we’ve overcome that upon reaching basecamp I want to ensure my children’s future safety?

So why is this tearing me up inside to where the tears are rolling?

Such close calls – over and over…

My confidence is shot – used up, conscripted.

It takes energy resources to keep it replenishing.

I used to be brave about performing pregnancy care – but today I decided that I no longer would.

I cannot take on responsibility for the health and safety of mothers and their growing children.

I care too much and am fighting becoming disillusioned.

I wanted to take the dogs for a walk this afternoon, thinking it was dry enough.

I planned to let my hound out on a long leash to give her more reign.

But the rain and ensuing ground slickeryness stopped me.

I don’t know what to do or which way to turn anymore.

It’s been on a knife’s razor edge that we’ve made it this far.

Now that we have a home again, one could think it ought to become easy.

I don’t know how to interpret well where we go from here.

Having found a base but with clients dropping due to holidays, nothing feels solid.

I know these patterns of worry trends – but not those of relaxation.

They say that tremendous loss can do this to you.

I do not like seeking new homes for my favorites – for indeed, they are my shining stars.

But that’s the thing about being a good mother.

I have to ensure the success of their future.

If something doesn’t feel “on the level” in business, I will shore up loose ends and walk away from it. I can’t say this has been good for income, but it helps keep integrity in my actions.

My hound has brought me joy, but also such responsibility.

She has manners now, which is very important, but needs attentive reminding.

I dislike that things have not gone as planned regarding finances for improving her training.

She is so smart and willing – if you know the right canine language.

I put the call to the breeder to see if there was a better situation for my lovely hound.

I feel that my structure may be too disciplined and that she deserves to be hunting along the ground.

Maybe I am too harsh on myself.

As the leader of our pack, it has been hard to always remain diligent and to know where it is safe to let my guard down

This was actually brought on because my queen would not stop yowling.

She just can’t seem to be appeased and needs humans willing to revolve around her.

I got them all this far and am just worn tired to the bone.

I should feel successful, instead of like a failure.

It takes time to acclimate to new situations.

But that does not mean that I have much left to give to carry all of us further.

It seems that some things just are.

I bring a little light to it.

I will not be yowl-harrassed-bossed by a cat who thinks she is entitled!

She just needed to get all of this out of her head.

Having an amazing mate seemed to be not part of the plan laid out for her.

What was “hers” was always taken.

Whom she thought was meant had broken and left her forsaken.

Maybe it was just best to try to scrub this encoding from her intentions.

A “Way Of The Warrior.”

She dreamed her ex-fiance was leading her along a “merry chase” of being almost close enough to him – then his leaving again.

Luckily, a new friend who looked like a younger Jane Seymour held out a hand to her and said with a smile of welcome, “Let’s ‘get lost’ and explore these exotic lands you came to visit!”

Later, she found herself tormented in a hometown-like countryclub veranda and countryside outdoor get together where the latest power couple were vacationing.

She was an ouslander in a situation where she could have easily belonged by birthright, but that her mother inadvertantly had made sure would be barred to her.

The woman now lapping up all of the lavishment had made a gluten-free, flakey-crusted chicken pot pie and had left her some on the open stoveway through which she could see the gentiles lounging.

Grateful for the yummy sustenance and thinking everyone had already eaten, she gave herself a generous portion.

But then, “Mr. Elusive” entered the kitchen looking amazing as he sought some for himself.

As the dream began to fade at the improbability of their union, she struggled to share her heart’s message of “I love you.”

Upon waking nonplussed from her emotions being taunted, she thought, “Maybe I should just take up some cooking!”

She could see that he had some validity from his point of view.

But at the time, she had been correct in her assessment from the vantage of promoting mutual expansion.

The fact that he had initially thought that her actions were a grave mistake rankled her innovation.

It made her realize how she could become too restricted having any dependency upon his collaboration.

Worst of all, her fine decisionmaking had now been called into question – which placed her in a vulnerably precarious position.

What they don’t tell you about it is that sometimes it requires great risk.

And sometimes that risk is entirely too uncomfortable – and crosses boundaries that have been qualified as a “no go zone.”