The compost pile?

Ron also bought VODKA yesterday.  Yike.  He was quiet last night and I had a pretty quiet rainy day.  I slept in, battled a horrific headache, and read a couple of inspirational romance novels. 

I think one problem I have in my life; Ron considers it enough to provide for my physical needs.  That's enough, in his book.  I will feel happy and loved if he pays the bills. 

[groan]  I want to feel safe.  I want to live a life free of verbal abuse.  That will make me feel secure.  I could care less if we live in a hellhole, as long as he loves me.  I'm very good at making lemonade. 

Anyway, the CONSISTENT message I have gotten from EVERYONE in my life, including Dad, who is very supportive (having gone through this with my birth mother): GO TO AL-ANON. 

I got it.  I found a meeting, nearby.  During the day.  Although, if I meet a nice lady who wants to give me rides, I'll accept.  Worst case I can AT LEAST go once a week, during the day. 

"I know, 30 years ago, I could find a meeting every night of the week." Dad said.  He's right, and Houston is a lot bigger than my hometown.   Of course we have the transportation issues, but if I'm a believer, and I am, God's got that covered. 

I don't want to be the alcoholic spouse; the persecutor, the victim or the rescuer.  I don't want to be a bitter, hating, hater.  I don't want to feel shackled to him out of duty.  [shrug]  To some degree I have that now.  All of it. 

If I can't be honest here, then I shouldn't be typing. 

On a more positive note, the squirrels are having a very good time knocking down my birdfeeder and raiding it.  Good stuff.  They broke the "tube" feeder.  Bad squirrels!  They knocked the other feeder down, but I re-hung it. 

For some unknown reason, they are also fascinated by my compost pile?  What the heck? 

Do I even WANT to know?  Hm.