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Pamela Mohan
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The CMAs are just starting here. What a line up. I think I will relax with some country music tonight. Alone. Super Hubby is not a fan. But that's okay. Good to do your own thang sometimes. Yes. I said "thang."


". . . some days are treasure. Not many, but I think in almost every life there are a few. That was one of mine, and when I'm blue--when life comes down on me and everything looks tawdry and cheap, the way Joyland Avenue did on a rainy day--I go back to it, if only to remind myself that life isn't always a butcher's game. Sometimes the prizes are real. Sometimes they're precious." (Stephen King. Joyland.) Loved it.

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I am chowing down on some yummy flatbread while reworking some poems that have been dormant far too long. I love my life!

New Legal Eavesdropping blog is up.

http://pamelamohan.com/two-eggs-with-a-side-of-drama.htm

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It's shark week here and you can't go anywhere without them bugging you. We just tried to enjoy our meal and ignore this one. . . . — with Kim Mohan.

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At Luther's Table with Lisa Dunn listening to Alex Enger sing the blues. Wow!

I used to feel as if I carried around an invisible sandwich board that announced: "Will write for food." That's what I did. For years I wrote print news articles, by the bundles. I wrote columns, essays, and even some fiction. I wrote a few books on subjects I was given. And it was a good way to fill some plates and glasses with generous helpings of good food and drink.

I stopped doing that about ten years ago in favor of an even more lucrative career as a jewelry, antiquarian book, and anything antique or unusual eBay peddler. The thrill of the hunt and ca-khing of the competing final bids was fun. As a longtime collector of vintage costume jewelry, I found it thrilling to hunt for period pieces. As a reader, I loved browsing, buying, and selling books.

Other items were simply a way to increase the retirement fund ante. And I did it well. Too well. (My husband once referred to me at a dinner party as the "Queen of eBay," much to my embarrassment. I am ashamed to look back and remember what a fuss I made over what was meant as a sublime compliment. Who brags or feels any pride or sense of accomplishment when selling on any online auction site? I wanted to be known as "the queen of journalism." But I wasn't writing at the time. I was making money selling "stuff." Pretty ironic that this embarrassing career has been so difficult for me to let go.

I work eight to ten hours a day as a semi-retired woman who never will see age or lack of steady income as a signal that it is time to stop working at learning. I have come dangerously close to a place where I can let go of the superfluous, insignificant matters in life such as caring about or actually making money. It is time to do what I have spent most of my adult life making money doing. Only for me, this time. For my pleasure. For my fulfillment. For my continued need to learn and to grow, with no expectation of fiscal prize. If, along the way, I write something someone wants to buy, that's fine because it will be what I wanted to say and think and feel.

It's been a long time coming, but the previous years were hardly a waste. I taught, I nourished, and I learned during that time. A different venue now, maybe. But those three verbs are still a large part of this equation.

Next Monday I will take a short trip to the Oregon coast with my life partner and start this separation of self. Until then, there is a lot of work to do. Come Monday, Monday, (I trust that day!) the shackles crumble into dust and I will celebrate a new beginning. Yay, me!

Today's failures, thus far: soggy French toast; scalding hot pan handled without aid of potholder protection; (d'oh!) much-favored left hand crispy instead of French toast; hot pan dropped to the floor in recognition of painful mistake; messed-up floor.
Upside: (There is <always> an upside.) French toast would have been unwanted calories; everyone can benefit from getting tested early for Alzheimer's; have been wanting to be more proactive about using my right hand; was planning to scrub the kitchen floor today anyway. Ha! And ouch! #burningdesiretohaveuseofmylefthandback
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