Solstice is coming up faster than I expected, but I also had a very pleasant surprise. We have a new neighbor, Cindy. I’m a little ashamed to say she brought us cookies, instead of the other way around.

Which I am about to rectify in about 30 minutes.

Cindy. It’s a pretty name for a woman about my age, a sunlight blond to match her summer tan still clinging to her skin and clear brown eyes. Brown like sunstone. Actually, she just reminded me of high summer in her entirety. And freckles! So many damned freckles, it was hard to keep my hands to myself. I managed. Barely.

We didn’t talk about much. Cindy asked me about the neighborhood, how it was, where the interesting spot were. Come to find out she’s a case worker for the IRS. Well, she said she worked for the government, but after a couple follow up questions, it was easy to figure out. She’s on temporary assignment here and originally from Phoenix. Too bad. I won’t say no to a nice, pretty neighbor though. I only thank the Gods I was alone when she came to the door. My sister would’ve had a field day with my unintended flirting.

Okay. Not completely unintended. Still.

Got the paperwork back from the court, stamped and ready to mail to the bastard cheater. I want this year to be over. Soon. Very soon.

I hope.

Blessed be.

Response is filed with the court.

The paperwork for this debacle is tedious. And it has to be submitted in triplicate, in person on actual paper. In this day and age, I surprised we can’t to all of this online, like literally everything else, but no. The copies are supposed to come back to me through the mail. One is to be sent to the ex, the other I’m to keep for my records. I’m not sure the ex will sign for the papers, but I have to try. Ugh.

Jack took to the basics of the Rede easily. When I explained it to him, Angie interjecting snide little comments the whole time about my teaching style, Jack rolled his eyes and said, “I know all that Mom.”

I didn’t understand, at first, how he knew all this already. He hasn’t been messing with my Book and my mom and sister know better than to start Jack’s teachings without me. I started asking questions.

“What do you mean, you know?”

“They’re the rules, Mom. Of course I know.”

“Where did you learn them?”

“They’re the house rules, Mom.”

Oh. Later, after Jack had gone to play with some of the neighborhood kids, Angie called me a scatterbrained dumb ass. Some days, I feel like it. Parenting is ridiculous. I love it.

Blessed be.

Process server showed up on the doorstep the other day. I guess the ex, who’s name I refuse to use because he’s a bastard, had filed for divorce months ago. I’m only just now finding out. I thought I had more time to get back on my feet before dealing with this.

Angie cackled at me.

I’m so damned annoyed about it all. Angry is too strong a word, so annoyed works. Good thing my mom is an old hand at this divorce nonsense, so I leave the paperwork for her to parse. She’ll tell me the next steps I need to take.

The colorful threads in my supply box survived the move without tangling, thank the great Gods. What I needed most at this moment is time. And a little chaos couldn’t hurt. A little bit of knot magick to slow the matter down a a bit. Nothing big or flashy.

I set up a candle with a simple wish etched into it and started on my threads. Ra, my big orange tabby and obstinate familiar, was loafed against my leg and watching with his customary watchfulness. My boy Jack came into my closet-sized room with his kitten familiar at his heels. Her name is Isis and, like all familiars I’ve ever encountered, she chose him.

This wasn’t the first time Jack had ever seen me casting, so he knew to wait until I was done before he started asking questions. I haven’t really explained what being a witch was and as I finished the last of the knots, I figured maybe it was time I began his instruction. He was in a house full of them, after all.

I’ll start with the basics after dinner. First, I have a sister to give a stern lecture to.

Blessed be.2

I don’t know what I’m doing.

What the fuck am I doing?

I guess I need something to vent to, since my sister came home, and I figure screaming into the void that is the internet is better than wringing my sister’s stupid neck. Or my mom’s. I can do both, can’t I?

In the interest of yet another coping method, I guess I should give a quick rundown of why. Why I’m doing this. Why I’m back to living with my mom in my mid-thirties. Why my sister is in the same boat.

So many whys.

My life comes down to this. I’m a soon-to-be single mom of an adorable nine-year-old boy because my asshole of a husband decided to move in some tarted up homewrecker and kicked us out. I’m thankful my mom took us in, I really am, but we are very different people and she drives me crazy. Thank the great good Earth I’ve learned how to control my temper over the years. That was six months ago. If it was just me, Jack and mom, I could deal.

Angie has a knack for getting on my last nerve. The drama she loves to immerse herself in grates against my calm psyche. Come to find out, she’s got her own divorce to go through. Joy. This’ll be a disaster. Three witches and a boy. I hope Angie keeps that Ouija board hidden in her tool chest.

I’m going to pull out the damned honey and sugar. Maybe I can keep Angie’s messy aura contained. How is this my life?

Blessed Be.