The Libby Home for Wayward Women

The Libby home for wayward women was founded in the Summer of 1997 when The Libby's, Jenee and Bruce, lived in Pittsburgh, and the Tampax Mafia convened on the porch of their brownstone and christened it with Tequila Rose and wild cackling laughter. They have since relocated to Charlottesville, VA and "The Libby" brownstone has been replaced with a farmhouse deep in the rolling farmhills of "happyville".

I am a wayward woman, and so of course this is my firt stop. Lucky for me thunderstorms were forecast for Tuesday, my first day in town, which means that Jenee had to call in to work to stay home with Lois, her dogchild, who gets very very upset by thunder. Don't blow by what I just said...Lois takes prozac and tranquilizers, and needs supervision when it storms. So we spent the day in our jammies, eating bagels and lox, pulling up rare footage of great music on you tube, and writing. I was still in a 30 something hangover haze from the four day send off...

We went downtown to meet her girlfriends from work for dinner and drinks on the patio at a yummy little taqueria, Mono Loco...just as the rain and sunset were meeting.


and then we walked over to Miller's to see her brother in law Randall play some jazz. Millers is a tiny little dive bar where Dave Matthews worked and started out. The music was great, however I was so exhausted, that I found myself apologizing for being so distant and quiet. Randall reassured me that there was a time for everything, and last night was my night to listen to his great jazz in a sleepy haze. I do love a good dive, especially one with a great story and history.


I slept like a baby last night and through the entire morning, relieved to have nowhere to be and nothing to do except just be here now. I woke up to find that Jenee had left *me* a bliss bomb to do list...

So I suited up and went for a run...




and then after my shower, I curled up on the sofa to read "Women Who Run With the Wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estés and passed out for a couple of hours to the heavenly state of drooling all over myself until Jenee returned from work. Bruce treated us to dinner at an Indian restaurant, which was a first for me. I had lamb korma, and coconut bread and it was amazing. We are now fat and happy and watching Ray LaMontagne and Lyle Lovett on Elvis Costello "spectacle"...


Ray just said "my heart was broken 20 times..I like people..I just don't like assholes". indeed.

Bliss or bust...

My stream of blissciousness has been jammed up the past few weeks. I have sat down several times to try and write it out, only to find incoherent emotional vomit in my words. I will only say that some time around the third week of May, my stress level was elevated to one of despair. I am not generally a giver upper, but my heart was full in more moments than usual of giving up...and each time, just when I thought it was time to just slump over and accept inner defeat, a friend would swoop in and carry me just a bit further along my path. The details of my particular despairs and demons are irrelevant, but they were big and scary. I have barely kept my head above water lately and also been simultaneously overwhelmed with love, hope, and happiness.

And again I am reminded, because I almost forgot, that life is a tragedy full of joy.

Shannon and Lori with suprise jambalaya, bread pudding and renegade impromptu tailgating and laughter just in the nick of time on a weary, wet Friday night...




A sly, sweet, perfect song gift, left for me, should I look for it, which I did...and which I thought might make my heart explode I loved it so much. love. love. love. "I just want my heart to be true"...

A Gift for Melody Anne by The Avett Brothers:


A sing along road trip to the Warrior Dash with a badass partner and even better friend...

which ended with a mudbath, beer, gigantic turkey legs, a rolled ankle, and a furry viking helmet. A perfect day if you ask me...


Celebrating Michelle's big milestone, graduating from cosmetology school, and finally telling those smug hair-heads how she really feels about them...



Being a proud momma and wishing there was a word bigger than proud...

swallowing the tears of bittersweet goodbyes to people that have changed our lives...


the refuge of drinking my Aunt Saralene's coffee from one of the many cups in the collection that are the sum of millions of moments of love and togetherness over the years...


reconnecting with my kids in the sunshine...



finding humor in corn that can only exist when my cousins are around...


and of course yellow suprise parties that make me cry happy tears thrown by the best friends a girl could ask for:



and yellow pres-ments..I love presments...


and even though I am terrified, there are signs that all this letting go of who I used to be is the only way to grab a hold of who I want to be, so I just have to do it, bliss or bust...


I laughed with my besties over bloody marys and chicken salad as a final send off, and after much love, encouragement and practical magic on Jodi's part, I hit the road



and saw signs that speak for themselves...