I am 62 years old.
I have just left my husband of 37 years. My children are confused and angry and hurt. My soon-to-be ex-husband is a silent cipher, passively, and with flashes of real kindness, accepting the change.
And I sing in the shower.
The deed to my new house lists me as “Susan Murray: a separated woman” as if my very being is defined by my marital status: a scarlet “S” to be sewn to my clothes and branded on my forehead.
But that is not who I am. My marriage may have defined me but the absence of marriage will not
This is what I know:
- I love to cook.
- I live in a town filled with things to explore and people to get to know.
- And I live alone.
So I will cook for you, dear reader.
And you will travel with me as I explore my town, and meet new people.
Together we will discover who I am.
About the Quail
1. A small migratory game bird
My handle is “Small Blonde Mom”, a name that was gifted to me by one of my daughter’s friends. I was one of three small, blonde women who parented a triumvirate of high school students who were best friends.
I have lived in five different countries and travelled to countless places before settling in Asheville, North Carolina. It is a city I love for it’s quirkiness, its air of being from an earlier time and its way of being a part of the South and yet not.
I am trying to be game.
2. To lose heart or courage in difficulty or danger, shrink with fear
I am an extraverted introvert. I shrink from cocktail parties and large groups of people unless I have a role to play or something definite to do. Going it alone is not going to be easy. In the past I had a role. I was a mother. I was a spouse. I was an innkeeper. Now I have a new role, the boundaries of which are somewhat fuzzy. That’s scary.
“Are you one of the timid souls that quail at the jeers of a doubting crew, or dare you, whether you win or fail, strike out for a goal that’s new” –Edgar Guest