Temperance and the Devil EBook Preview

As Mr. Wonderful held my head on his lap with one hand, he used the other hand to graze my body within reach over my clothes. I continued to talk until I wondered if I was talking too much. “You are so quiet. Am I talking too much?” I said, looking up at his face. He continued to move his fingertips over my clothes lingering at my chest and pelvic region as he looked down at me saying “I am just listening and getting to know more about you.” He looked into my eyes with warmth and satisfaction as he continues to touch me. I looked into his eyes, without talking until his fingers reached over my shorts inside the natural opening of my relaxed legs.

Full Ebook available January, 2018.

Meanwhile the story of the Desert Diva and her Galaxy will continue bi-weekly! Stay tuned for pictorial How We Met The Joey .

Cougar in the Hunt

Affirmations From the Galaxy

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Affirmations From The Galaxy Wednesday

Affirmations on Aging, brought to my readers by Cougar in the Hunt

#cougar #Mrs.Robinson #attraction #21 #lust
….my resolve to not be involved with this young man was torn down the moment the palm of his had touched my knee..”

1) Age is not just a number, it represents wisdom from experience while reaping the benefits of seeds sown and propagated.

2) If an aging woman is not beautiful in your eyes, your eyes must mature enough to see what is real.

3) An aging woman is wise, competent, strong, and true to herself.

4) A young woman lost will best find her way by reaching for the hands of her elder female sisters who have walked her path……..

5) Menopause may cause brief moments of temporary “insanity” but the outcome is a new life of limited mistakes……..

Cougar In the Hunt  selfyoungnowold

Cougar in the Hunt Vlog: VIDEO!

More Affirmations From The Infinite Galaxy

Who is Galaxy?

photo collage depicting the changes of an aging woman

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Cougar in the Hunt Part 1 Vlog

{Full written version: Cougar in The Hunt 1}


sepiaAs I showed Mr. Man a video of my rabbit Galaxy, whatever had been wrong with him had been left far behind as he ventured into the land of me. Naturally engaging him in conversation took little to no effort which was odd. His wide-eyed naiveté displayed great appreciation for my talents and accomplishments. He was quick to fire blunt andfeature uncensored expressions of attraction and desire for me that seared through my body too rapid for me to put up defences. The odd connection sparked something in me while at the same time my sense of better judgement kept me anchored even though inside I was spinning. In the midst of this strange encounter, my hot flashes inevitably came to adding fuel to the overall confusion.
As I continue to grow older, the surrounding people seem to grow younger often limiting my compatible choices. Although cleaver in his own right, Mr. Man was way too inexperienced to set pretences. I had been his age, long ago, he had never been my age, not in this lifetime anyway. His courage and forthright manner prevented me from believing he was way to young. At the very least, these bold qualities left me open-minded to possibilities not yet explored.

Mr. Man told me to guess his age and without much thought, I looked into his face, trying not to lose myself in his eager green eyes, and replied 32. A baffled expression gave me a momentary warm sensation that I had guessed right as I had adjusted my line of demarcation in my mind to accommodate this bizarre connection.
My instinct turned false as he told me he is 21 less than half my time on earth. This warm sensation turned to an ache in my head that seemed to accentuate the lines in my face he was unable to see. My wrinkles creased tighter as it occurred to me that Mr. Man could be my son and his mother my same age or younger. A twisting sensation occurred in my stomach as I tried to tighten my grip on the ground beneath me. Clearly, I had reached the edge of the cliff with the earthen soil eroding under the weight of my stance. My only choices were to fight or give way to gravity, but someone would fall.

When I told Mr. Man I had great insight into people, often within seconds of meeting them, he was quick to ask for specifics about him, his eyes widening in the hopes of capturing me. My keen instinct told me he was eager to see inside me, far more than inviting me into his world. His navigation efforts played out through the night and into the following week.

Cougar in the Hunt Part 2: Did You Really Say 21?

As a woman over 40, pushing 50, have created this blog for the purposed of using my writing skills to create something especially meaningful to women. The best show of appreciation, since this blog is brand new, is feedback, sharing my site with others, and a donation of any amount in that order. Even a small donation, will go a long way to support my gourmet coffee habit.

Feedback Cherished!

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Galaxy & The Joey Part 1: Heart Break Winter

Winter brought a freeze to the shards of my heart with each piece frozen in time. Darkness dominated the evening hours while overflowing tears created a constant stream traveling down my face throughout the nights.

Photo collage depicting the loss of love and heartbreakAny traces of Mr. Wonderful fell to the desert winds, none of us knowing what direction. His disappearance left no clues and his welfare was still a complete unknown. I was facing many questions, with few answers, and no communication. Given the ambiguous circumstances, of his sudden absence, the only option available to me was relinquishing loyalty to Mr. Wonderful as there was no sign of him returning to Joshua Tree.

Galaxy had been my most sacred comfort and each day his beauty and joyous disposition was my salvation. At the same time, I knew in my heart how much Galaxy missed Mr. Wonderful, though Galaxy was much more able to live in the moment.photo collage depicting the pain and wisdom from heartbreak, relationships, mental illness, animal wisdom, heartbreak, woman over 40

A pivotal question kept crashing through my mind while lingering in constant conflict with my heart. How do I grieve with no specific about what I have lost? At this point, his absence and lack of contact indicated an indefinite end to our relationship. I reached inside myself searching the depths of my heart and soul for answers, but all I found was wide canyons and crude fissures of regrets and terrors.

One reality was certain, in each passing moment the man I loved was far out of my reach to an extent that was incomprehensible.

What I did have full knowledge of was the fact that he was not physically present, not within my reach, and not making contact with any of us. I was aware, of the folks fully present who would prove to be my strength. To survive the gaping hole left in my chest, I would have to embrace what and whom existed in my physical proximity. The Wisdom of the Infinite Galaxy was on its way carrying gifts.

Thanksgiving was soon to arrive while my car was malfunctioning beyond my financial means thus forcing me into an isolation turning my heartache into a deep cut stinging in the biting cold. Without my vehicle, I could not see my family and asking them to come and get me would need to be saved for Christmas.

affirmation, forgiveness, child abuse, substance abuse, deception, heartbreak, mental illness
There was more to be discovered about Mr. Wonderful sending shock waves into my entire sense of wellness….

At this point I was unaware that relief was on its way, bending my path sideways with ironic roots tracing back to Mr. Treeman dysfunction and Mr. Wonderful’s sudden disappearance. Finesse acquired the driving privilege of Mr. Treeman’s car to help care for his place since she considered it her responsibility since she had set up the arrangement for Mr. Wonderful which ended up falling apart. In a mere moment, this mutually beneficial agreement fell ruptured in the middle of our holiday rituals. Genie, a member of our tribe who I did not know as well as Finesse, invited an intimate few to her house for Thanksgiving, which was a small but distinct print in the desert sand on my long road to salvation. What seemed like lost wandering circles of events and subsequent emotions was actually a secure path forward, making a full circle back to me. mess.

Finesse, her boyfriend Peter Pan, Galaxy and I had been invited to Genie’s home for a Thanksgiving gathering. Since Finesse managed to commandeer Mr. Wonderful’s transportation, while my car was malfunctioning, she offered to give me and Galaxy a ride, so we could take part in Genie’s holiday meal.

The plot twists that would occur before we arrived at the Genie’s house, would set off a turn of events, reminding me that although my heart was in shattered ruins, it was still indeed beating.

Finesse needed to stop at the grocery store before going to Genie’s place. I was riding in my familiar passenger’s seat that I had shared with Mr. Wonderful, so I was able to notice a distinct problem. The vehicle alignment was rickety. Finesse examined the area around the tires as we got out of the car. The tread of the tire was completely worn, and the balding was so bad that wire was exposed. The sounds I heard as Finesse drove and applied the brakes was indicative of rotor and CV boot problems accelerating wear on the tire. Finesse wondered if the car would make it to Genie’s place and since it was so close we decided to join the gathering and figure out a solution before the end of the evening.

Despite this setback, It was a beautiful celebration, and I began to rediscover once again the spirited quality of our Joshua Tree connections, the same of which led me to Mr. Wonderful. I missed him so much and at the same time I wanted desperately to be fully present in these precious moments gifted to me that involved loved one’s still physically with me in Joshua Tree. A huge feast awaited us, though assuming it was a potluck, we brought food. We enjoyed several helpings of well-prepared dishes and desserts.

mandalarew
The vision of him on stage was a mandala; I danced through the set only knowing that this was a person who would be part of my high desert activity indefinitely…..

Genie brought out her stack of Motown records and we danced for hours. As any gathering with Finesse, several photos taken allowed us to savor so many of these moments. This chilly night was a baby step on the long road to mending my broken heart though at the time I was not cognizant of this subtle change. This was the evening when new things came to me that would fill the space cleared by such a painstaking void.

This night, though Thanksgiving not Christmas, manifested in several gifts that seemed to be created for me and Galaxy. When Genie saw the tambourine that Galaxy had acquired at our horse rescue, she brought out an infant toy version of a tambourine that was far better and designed for a bunny. The tambourine was one of Genie’s daughter’s baby toys and at this time a gift for my Galaxy.

Later that evening the Joshua’s Tree arrived. Joshua’s Tree, and I had connected with him on Facebook, as a long-time friend of Finesse and her family. In my darkest hours of desperately missing Mr. Wonderful another lucky star was not far from me and Galaxy. I asked Finesse about him once I had accepted his friend request and she assured me that he was “one of us” and part of the tribe. Joshua’s Tree arrived with his guitar and Finesse’s mother eagerly anticipated him playing for all of us. Genie turned off the Motown tunes as Joshua’s Tree tuned his guitar.

Joshua’s Tree reminded me of a human sized genome, living inside an old tree, with soulful eyes and a welcoming smile. His clothing was tattered, yet his talent was at such a high-caliber that he played in so many venues. The signature harmonic strums of Joshua’s Tree’s guitar mesmerized Galaxy touching his delicate ears like tiny angels.

Galaxy was on the couch between myself and Moreen and as Galaxy slammed his brand new tambourine in syncopation, as Joshua’s Tree played the song which to this day Galaxy favors. Joshua’s Tree guitar playing puts Galaxy in a trance and he still accompanies Joshua’s Tree on his tambourine to the same song and in the same style.

Before Joshua’s Tree left Genie’s house, a less convenient surprise of nature created a potentially embarrassing situation. I had not had a period for nine months and resigned myself to this stage of life being over permanently. In a moment, I was bleeding and made a beeline for the bathroom before leaving a stain on Genie’s couch. My light-colored pants had a visible stain I had to wash out in the bathroom sink as much as possible. I could feel a cold sting as the water ran pierced the joints of my fingers and the bones of my knuckles. This sensation boosted an unhealthy adrenaline speeding up my heart rate and accentuating the pain I was so desperate to forget. A sharp pain surged through my hands as I grasped my pants and the blood washed down the sink. A bitter, frustrated tear fell from my eye as I tried to breathe through the sharp pains in my chest. Even if the stain did not show, my pants were soaking wet. My house was close, but I was without the mobility to run home and change.

I put the wet pants back on hoping no one would notice and that the dry air of the fire would take care of the problem. As uplifting as this festive night was for all of us, our sudden lack of transportation was still unresolved.

Throughout the evening, I heard talk of a new friend of Peter Pan Finesse referred to as a “guy crush.” It was clear that Peter-Pan was better equipped to replace Mr. Wonderful with another bar buddy, then I was to replace the man who I loved. Peter-Pan ended up on the phone with his new friend, The Joey. After this conversation of which I was paying little attention, Peter Pan announced that the Joey was on his way over, and would give Finesse and Peter Pan a ride home. When I asked about me, Finesse said with full confidence that he would take me home too. Since they lived all the way out in Joshua Tree Park and I was in the opposite direction, it did not seem plausible. Could Peter Pan be friends with someone so kind and charitable?

The Thanksgiving Joey arrived soon after Joshua’s Tree departed. Moreen, Finesse’s mother had also left. I was introduced to the Joey as he walked through Genie’s door and I made a half-hearted gesture from the couch of acknowledgement. “Hi, nice to meet you. This is Galaxy.” The Joey’s eyes widened creating a flicker of hazel and green tones, as he noticed a real live rabbit on my lap seated  atop  the bunny blanket I was using to conceal my still soaking wet pants. “

Oh, hi Galaxy, nice to meet you too.” I could only respond with a poignant distance, given how embarrassing quality of my wet

pastel drawing, house rabbit
Original artwork by Candice Silsby

pants, I was so desperate to keep concealed. I was also too deeply engaged in a multitude of thoughts. I was processing my emotions concerning my admission to Finesse about how much I missed Mr. Wonderful; I had not been sure she would empathize. Her father had passed away and she could not conceive of anything worse; my father had died more than ten years prior and the multitude of circumstances of Mr. Wonderful leaving me was so much more painful.

Shortly after his arrival, the Joey sat on the tile right by the warmth of the fire. He actually had a much longer history with Genie, so he had been invited to the gathering and as it seemed he must have been on the guest list expecting to arrive late. He had a band music, drummer, friends, music, communitysubtlety macabre upbeat demeanor, with a sharp wit that snapped stronger than the crackle coming from the fireplace. He demonstrated his problem-solving skills as he offered ideas and suggestions about the tire on the car while committing himself to helping them once again in the following AM.

To my eye, The Joey looked like a snowboarder warming up by the evening fire in a log cabin wearing thick warm felted wool. I stared at his olive skin tinting from the fire dancing on his face. As an artist I naturally scan people and objects with my eyes until the whole picture is complete and clear in front of me. My investigation revealed his woolen winter clothes with Teva style sandals and no socks. I laughed to myself as I remembered all the times I bundled up for the cool and did not have the energy left to put on socks or wasn’t able to locate a pair of clean ones. I did not resist the urge to comment……

Galaxy and The Joey Part 2: Thank-Give-Me Joey

Temperance and The Devil

Cougar in the Hunt

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Cougar in the Hunt, Part 8

Cougar in the Hunt Part 8: Here’s To You Mrs. Robinson

Continuation of Cougar in the Hunt Part 7: Sun to Moon #cougar #Mrs.Robinson #lust #infatuation #21 #menopause #singlewomanover40

The decision to invite Mr. Man to my house to see the Graduate with me, a film made decades before the “cougar” euphemism, was an affectionate way of warning him about sexual involvement with an older woman. My intentions and his responses to this activity were nothing like I expected. The process of sharing this entertainment media revealed many things about the person Mr. Man is and the circumstances of his childhood. It became crystal clear as we watched “the Graduate” that they way he grew up was nothing like my childhood. He was not able to relate personally to the LA upper class suburban lifestyle parodied and made surreal in this film where as it had always been relatable to my paradigm. In the midst of these differences being revealed, I observed how quick and unafraid he was to ask questions and seek explanations for societal norms before his birth or outside the experiences of his short life. This humility inspired an increasing respect for him and admiration for his courage. He was revealing his tremendous potential which complicated my clean, detached, and objective approach to this pending affair.

#photocollage #cougar #Mrs,Robinson #lust #menopauseandsexulaity #21
The intense fantasy of his disfigured anatomy was impossible to escape in the dark of the desert night…#Mrs.Robinson #photocollage #cougar #lust #sex #affair #attraction #infatuation #fantasy

His willingness to learn and not appear more experienced than his age was a pleasant surprise.  As I layed in the presence of such humility and courage, I didn’t mind stopping to explain words and concepts and give mini and micro-sociological history lessons. The significant women’s history lesson, pertinent to the film, was describing the sad position women lived by when the Graduate was produced and released. He gave me a puzzled look when I explained the phenomena; I was born into, known as the Mrs. Degree where women went to college to find husbands, not to earn degrees. My father worked hard at ensuring that my sister’s and I earned a college education. Our father constantly lectured us to avoid marrying too young and to first earn a college degree, procure our own income and security before seeking marriage. I realized, as we watched the pathetic unhappy Mrs. Robinson, how much this movie was a composite of all my father’s efforts that I was also exposed to frequently growing up, in my formative years, and into my young adulthood. Since Mr. Man was so so open to learning things outside of his reality, I made sure that he caught all the subtle nuances of the film not just the fictitious Mrs. Robinson’s character being representative of women going to college to find a husband, but also being forced to get married due to unplanned pregnancy. All events to follow this afternoon and evening, a tiny grain of sand in time, we shared would implode in a literary irony that even my long life was not prepared to endure.

Growing up watching The Graduate in multiple sittings, the main character was relatable to how I grew up and I had always taken this for granted. Mr. Man had a hard time understanding the suburban upper class post college homecoming. I had learned that Mr. Man had grown up under different circumstances with a single mother and upon his mother’s remarriage became a Marine brat. He told me in one of our earlier text conversations that his father died when he was very young, so he never knew him and his mother remained single until she married a Marine when he was 13, which is how he ended up in this area. I found out within the first 10 minutes of

#cougar #mrsrobinson #vixen #sex #lust #21
The touch of his fully developed hand seemed to compensate for the deformed one

meeting him that he had no further scholastic intentions and had made up his mind to seek a working class blue-collar high paying industrial type profession. Everyone I had ever known who chose this path spent the fair level of income on cheap bulk liquor, cigarettes and drugs. This will likely be his fate, but since he is only 21 the impact has not spoiled him yet.

As the movie played, and the plot progressed, I continued to explain the class and generations of the characters as they had been explained to me watching the graduate with family from the time I was a little girl to the formative years and into adulthood. At one point, I was worried that he might be bored, so I checked with him and his response surprised me. He actually said “I am really into this movie” In that moment I was impressed and felt warm towards him, but I had no idea that the source of his peaked interest in this film would end up leaving me the blinded fool, left out in the biting cold without a parka.

Mrs. Robinson, Cougar, sex, full-moon
His fingers slipped under my shirt and traveled across my waist.

I was baffled as I had half expected our interaction to be awkward and that like Mrs. Robinson and Benjamin Braddock, we would end up having nothing to talk about or say to each other. I could not believe that I was relating to him far beyond my expectations and this only increased my desire and anticipation. We remained side by side, watching the movie, as he continued to keep his hands to himself. There were no subtle manipulative schemes to get closer to me physically. Mr. Man stay, the same guy with bold words of lustful desire for me, stayed put.

Out of the corner of my eye I looked at the side of his body angled away from me from the head down. On the bean bag chair the two of us made a triangle with our heads and the tip. When I blinked, my body felt the full sensation of his near presence, I could smell him, I was hearing and breath that touched my skin while circling through my body with every shift of his body or subtle movement.

His whole hand was on the same side, I was, as it happened, and I found myself reaching over and placing each finger in between each of his and as we moved our palms together, I rested my forearm on his and my elbow rested inside the bend of his arm. He shifted slightly and everything fit into place like a puzzle. Periodically, he stroked my hand, back and forth with his thumb.

#photocollage #diva #Mrs.Robinson #cougar #image #fantasy
He dived in as if were a desert oasis, yet also as if he was afraid he would drown or not find his way out…

My weak, injured hand was wrapped in his that was not deformed, yet I was not hurt by his grip as so often a man’s hand grip would unintentionally hurt me. With one eye I continued to watch the film and with the other I stared at his bronze skin either from the sun or a small percentage of a culture with a darker brown skin or both. He did not reek of nicotine as I had expected and his sweat was intoxicating to breathe.
Mr. Man had not recognized the very young Dustin Hoffman in his first movie. It was the Dustin Hoffman before I was born, so for him the gap in years was wide. There was a commentary after the movie ended where Dustin Hoffman with longer hair and a few grey hairs speaking at which point Mr. Man did recognize him

I turned the TV off with my toes and naturally found myself placing my head on his chest and nestling myself into his willing arms. His heartbeat pulsated through my right temple so strong that I it reverberated through my head and ears while also feeling his hand stroking my hair and neck. I thought about how his “normal” hand, the one not deformed by birth defect, must have the power of two hands from a lifetime of compensation. Several times I reached over to touch and stroke his deformed hand, working my fingers through every crevice, each finger not fully developed, the small birth defected palm with the sprout like fingers frozen in his time of early childhood jutting out the end of his half palm. His tiny fingers subtly grasp my fingers as they moved about exploring the entire oddity of this hand, not like any other hand on any other person, a beautiful shaped in all its deformity. I could even feel the lines on his palm, not fully developed, cut short by finger sprouts nearly as thick as the fingers of a grown man, but soft, short, and delicate like a toddler. With every movement of my fingers grazing his tiny fingers, my heart became warmer, as his heart pounded into my right temple faster and harder, while his other full hand crept down from my neck into my back and waist.
His fingers slipped under my shirt and traveled across my waist. I became aware of the firm, elastic of my leggings wrapped around my waist, as his fingers butted against the edge like a refuge fighting the border, desperate to navigate a way past the barred entry and enter.  It reminded me of all the times in my high school years when boys, full of determination, would run their hand across the elastic of my bra trying to find the hook, which was always up front in my control.  I am sure he knew how to get past the waistband; perhaps he wanted to sneak his hand in without being obvious.
The sun was setting in the outside world, bringing back the luminous quality of our respective physical features. If Mr. Man had not been there with my head on his chest and his fingers stroking the skin under my shirt, I may have been outside gazing at the moon and the wonder of the desert’s endless night sky.

The power of the night sky could be felt from inside and the luminous quality the moon coated the darkness illuminating the two of us in an intense embrace of pre-coital anticipation.

LELO

“This is nice…” He said with a tone that was relaxed, but also eager, as I continued to stroke his chest with one hand and unbutton my shirt with the other.

Cougar in the Hunt Part 9 and 10, too hot for a public blog, will be part of my Wisdom From the Galaxy Ebook! Submit a comment and your email for a discount! One random subscriber will receive Ebook FREE. Ebook will be available November 15th! Sneak Preview!

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As a woman over 40, pushing 50, I have created this blog for the purposed of using my writing skills to create something
especially meaningful to women. The best show of appreciation, since this blog is brand new, is feedback, sharing my site with others, and a donation of any amount in that order. Even a small donation, will go a long way to support my gourmet coffee habit!
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Podcast Encore: 5pm July 5th

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As a woman over 40, pushing 50, have created this blog for the purposed of using my writing skills to create something especially meaningful to women. The best show of appreciation, since this blog is brand new, is feedback, sharing my site with others, and a donation of any amount in that order. Even a small donation, will go a long way to support my gourmet coffee habit.

Read more "Podcast Encore: 5pm July 5th"