Somehow, you wake up tomorrow having traveled back almost 2 decades, to the year 2000. What do you do? Where do you go? Who do you see?

I'll have whatever you're drinking.  LOL!

Good point, bookworm.  It is a bit vague.  To be honest I am enthralled by anything you write.  You can take whatever approach you wish.  I suppose I was meaning to say, what would you do different knowing what you know now.  Is there somebody you would find who is no longer living and see them once more.  Possibly make amends with someone you lost touch with over a bad circumstance.  Would you right wrongs or enjoy things all over again just the way they were.  The possibilities are endless.  Would you do simple things like revisit that favorite restaurant that has since closed down or would you try to warn people about future events in an effort to spare them.  Would you chase after love you let go once upon a time or would you walk away from someone or something and not look back.  Would you change bad habits into good or would you say, "f*ck it, I have a second chance I'm gonna do what I want and be a little less responsible and a little more fun this time."  Would you say no to marijuana or would you instead try it.  I'm rattling on, but I'm sure you get the picture.  Tell me, bookworm what would take place in your redo? This post was edited by Benedict Arnold at August 18, 2019 11:23 PM MDT

Thanks for the clarification. :)
I'm making this one long because it will ensure that most people won't read it.
But I think you love confidences, Twinkle, and will understand with your heart.

2000 was a pivotal year for me. It was when I married my long-time best friend, Ari.
It was when I decided to leave my life making and teaching sculpture in an old wool warehouse in the inner city of Sydney.

At the time, I had a young, black Arabian stallion, Sadhu, whom I kept agisted in a semi-rural area on the edge of the city, and visited every day to care for him and ride. I'd decided to buy him some mares and move to the country to breed and train Arabian horses for endurance and trail riding. But it would take a further two years before I found a property Ari liked in an area he liked.

At the time, I had been on anti-depressants for two years non-stop. I did not know that I had developed Serotonin Syndrome - meaning, I had no fear or caution.

My attempts to research the financial viability of breeding were cursory. I asked a few breeders whether it was possible to break even and they said yes (I later discovered that they'd lied - studs are usually run for tax deductibility.) My then financial advisor gave me the go ahead - but it later turned out that he had even less clue than I about what was involved.

As a result of the move to country life (in 2002), I discovered many things about Ari that could never have shown themselves in city-life. He is completely impractical and has difficulty learning and remembering.

He thrived - meaning he says he feels happier living here than at any other time in his life. He discovered that his gifts in music and theatre enabled him to act as a networker for Green causes within our local rural communities. It's all voluntary - but he does it brilliantly and he's much appreciated by others for what he does.
For me, personally, the move proved to be one of the worst mistakes of my life. While it's true that I love the wilderness and nature with unalloyed passion, and I have loved each of the 22 horses and many of the events and processes - the costs have been enormously high. Combined with three droughts and the GFC, my first inheritance was decimated.
There's an old saying in the horse world - how do you make a small fortune from horses?
Start with a large one.
Well, I started with a very small one and ended up with nothing, plus a husband who is dependent on me for his survival.

It is extremely painful to admit to the nature of the problems. He is a good, kind, gentle person. His non-violence means I am safe - which, for a girl from my background, is a big deal. He means well most of the time. We share common values. We love the same kinds of food, music, culture and lifestyle. We can tolerate each other's domestic messiness. We work on conflict resolution using NVC, and 99% of the time it works very well. But there's a massive great hole in my life where we don't and are not able to meet each other mentally. I mean it literally. It's the most horrible realisation after all this long time. My husband is actually stupid. Now that sounds so abusive and horrible - but try living with it.

The man will load a metal bucket with live coals from the fireplace and then toss them into dry leaf litter next to a forest on our boundary. We woke at 2 am with the forest catching fire and me calling the fire brigade and organising the hoses from the water tanks. We were very lucky to survive that one. And even luckier that it didn't destroy 30M hectares of the World Heritage-listed Border Ranges National Park.

He will use a chainsaw to fell a dead tree for firewood - but cut at an angle which guarantees that the only direction the tree can fall is on top of his back. When I try to warn him he becomes furious with me. When I physically yank him out of the way at the last second he is grateful.
These are not isolated incidents. They are happening every day - tiny incidents - some of little or no consequence - others, inevitable accidents just waiting to happen.
It drives me crazy and I'm at my wit's end trying to figure out what to do.
(Actually, I do. If we want to reduce the risk of premature death, we need to move off the land.)
He forgets most things unless he rehearses them regularly.
He learns by repetition and practice but he refuses to practise for the sake of learning - so the process is overwhelmingly slow.
In our former life in the city, he had grown up there, well adapted. If he needed info or to make a decision, he'd ask friends for advice and follow whatever felt right. And it worked for him. In that environment, I was unable to see what he was really made of. And part of me feels a terrible sense of shame that I myself was so stupid.

So if I had the year 2,000 back, I would immediately stop taking those anti-depressants.
I would have:
- taught myself what I've now discovered about how to deal with depression.
- not married Ari but remained close friends. Not married at all.
- been proactive about hunting for a life-mate.
- gelded the stallion and bought him one or two other geldings as friends - plenty of riding and training but no breeding.
- moved to a rural and green lifestyle close to wilderness.
- stayed within the orbit of Sydney Uni to continue growing mentally.
- studied literature and writing at least 19 years sooner.

It is my hope that through writing I might be able to make some difference in influencing the world to be proactive against climate change and pollution.
My hope is minuscule. The experts who are in the best position to have the most influence are already doing their best full time. And I will never have the credentials to do as they do.
I guess my hope is that though eco-fiction, I might influence some climate-deniers to see how and why the changes are necessary, and to embrace the changes enthusiastically.






This post was edited by inky at August 18, 2019 11:30 PM MDT

I am struggling to find the proper way to reply.  I need to start by saying just how much your naked honesty moves me.  I wonder how often it happens that people find themselves in situations similar to yours.  I dare say it is rather frequent.  I wish my words were coming fast and easily at the moment, but they aren't.  I have to leave at the moment to pick a friend up from work.  I'm going to spend some time contemplating your reply and I am making a promise to you now, that I will return to discuss this further a little later tonight.  This is a post not to be ignored.  

I was curious about that too.  I just a risk and played both sides of the coin. :)  A little of the past and a little if I could have changed anything and be the person I am today. :) :)  As I read down, I'll probably find the answer! :) :)

You could go back in time and see Cher on one of her many farewell tours.  LOL!
 
Cher is good in everything, no, great.  She is a fashion and music and cinematic goddess.  She is my people's queen.  She is an eternal light.  There has always been Cher and Cher will always be.  Am I overselling it?  

CHER DOES ABBA...


This post was edited by Benedict Arnold at August 17, 2019 7:23 PM MDT

Cher is on tour right now. You don't have to time-travel.

OMG!  I know. 
Its another freakin' farewell tour. 
I'm so glad she never really goes away. 
I hope when I'm her age I still keep hanging around being fabulous.

Goat can be my "Sonny Bono"

CHER WITH BEAVIS AND BUTTHEAD 

I love those drinks.  They taste like Florida to me.  I remember when I was working at a club there one year, every night when I would get off work I would stop at the same place and buy a Fruit Punch Snapple and a Milky Way Dark.  I would have that on the drive home with the windows down and the beach breezes along the strip blowing through my hair.  Music up.  Mood up.  Good times.

Are they still making them now?? Some reason first thing I thought of when saw  “year 2000” was freakin Snapple lol. 

Yes.  They still make them.  I had one a few weeks ago, but the problem is, now they only taste good in Florida in memory.

Oh, I must have been to distracted by the wine past 19 years to notice they are still around. 

Indeed!

You know those photos ought to be offered for purchase after the screening process. 
Like the ones vendors sell once everybody disembarks the roller coaster.