THE BEST in Postcards 4

Sept. 15, 2018, 12:34 p.m.
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Public

1999 on a visit to the Queen Mary in Long Beach.

I was only married to Paul Adams Hawkins for a small ten years. A short tumultuous time, two children, two jobs, homes with white sofas, lots of art school, and a miserable ending to it all. After two more wives, two more children who loved their Pop, and mountains of stone worked, he died.

I’ve been with Robert George Bailey for a comfortable 35 years. Our life has had its own underlying passions but none like the drunk and drugged years with Paul. We have less creativity but far more inner growth. He’s a loner. I miss the crowds that used to gather every day at my house. Most of all, I do miss him terribly when he isn’t here.

He’s one of the good guys. His boss gave him another nice bonus yesterday, and his manager gave him a raise. I’m not the only one who thinks he is one of the good guys.
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Himself: Putting more tape on the stairs to define the stripe that will go down both sides of the steps. Lunch, and work at the museum.

Myself: Got a wagonload of new nautical books. Ended up redoing all the moldy, damaged, unsalable hundreds of books I packaged to go out on Wednesday. I was so angry I was spitting when I left because the manager didn’t admit she was the one that left me the mountainous mess. George says to ignore her, and to survive her, I will.

Reading: FEAR…in smaller doses.

Gratitude’s: George.

Last updated September 16, 2018