On the tips of my fingers

Home-Scotland, MD April 23rd, the day after my 44th birthday, I set out to visit my Mom down county, in southern MD. We had just had some major work done on the truck but I trusted the mechanics and off Dash and I went. Of course as my luck goes... about 10 miles from my childhood home the truck lost all oil pressure and there I was sitting on a country road shoulder. Now this would have been the perfect time for a cigarette... if I still smoked, but instead I called the garage that had just fixed our oil pressure issue and asked WHY this had happened. 113.3 miles into my trip and I was a highway statistic. He claimed it might just be the gauge, so I restarted the truck and sure enough... oil pressure fine... gauges working... ready for take-off. I pulled back onto the road and vowed to NOT race away from traffic lights like I just had done prior to my temporary engine failure. In fact, for the next 4 days I probably wouldn't go over 30 mph. Let me backtrack some.... I had stopped at my brother Edwards briefly on my way through Hollywood, MD, only to be greeted by his new Pit bull, Maggie, who I later discovered is just a big wet tongue that gives Super Happy licks to everyone new that she meets. I also found out that nobody was home because they were all on their way to my Aunt Marilyn's funeral. I hadn't planned for a funeral. I only had jeans and maybe a dark t-shirt to wear, so I got to my moms... changed and headed up to the church. Home- Scotland, MD St Michael's, is the family church. We were all baptised there, confirmed there, confessed our most darkest secrets to the priests who were sometimes WAY to willing to hear them, and ultimately most of us will have our funeral service there. Today was Aunt Marilyn's turn. Since the funeral was almost over, I just waited outside. The other reason I didn't go in was because I really wasn't sure if this was HER funeral. I'm pretty positive had I gone in and it wasn't hers, I would have still been related to whoever was inside. In a few moments the doors opened and the procession started. It's an honor to be a Pall Bearer, but I'm seeing my family in that position more and more often these days. Having been one of the group who carried my sister to her final resting place, I realized just how much closure there is in placing a loved one in their grave. Just like holding their hand as they take their last breath, releasing the coffin to the earth that will consume them has as much power. A solemn act that affords us only a moments reflection can seem an endless loop in time until that moment when your finger tips brush away from the smooth wooden handles and you can feel the life slip away. It was the most peaceful loss I have ever experienced. A chance to say goodbye that final time... and know it was OK. I didn't get this chance with my father.... I mean, I did say good bye to him a few days before he died, because we knew he was dying, but I don't remember his funeral. Mostly because it was shrouded in some sort of secret inbred ritual of not wanting people to see him or make a fuss. "Jesus Christ" is the only correct exclamation for this.... Funerals are for the living..... If you don't want people seeing you, then make arrangements to be dumped at sea or better yet, just wander off somewhere before you make that last exit. I don't mean to be so harsh about my fathers funeral, but I really don't remember it. I wasn't on any drugs and I wasn't drunk until much later that night, so there isn't any reason why I shouldn't remember why I wasn't asked to help carry my own Dad. Seriously, there are five of us boys and it takes at least 6 to carry a coffin. I'm not in a wheelchair, and we were on speaking terms. I'm gonna have to find out.... hmm! I followed my family and friends to the KC Hall (Knights of Columbus) to the usual after funeral social and lunch where as usual I was greeted by relatives who still don't know me and greeted relatives I still don't know. This was over in no time it seems and I headed back to my moms to start my intended visit with her. The next couple days we talked and laughed and got way too serious from time to time, but over-all it was an excellent visit. There was, as fate would have it, another funeral the following day for a family friend and then to the KC Hall again, and the 3rd day of my visit we went to the graveyard to spruce up my dads grave. I took a lot of time to myself because peace and quiet was in large order. Two funerals and a graveyard visit in 3 days automatically puts anyone in a reflective head-space. Walking around the old barns I remember once when someone asked me, "didn't I get depressed seeing the farm I grew up on falling into disrepair". I told them no, looking at these old barns now, I see them resting. Their sagging rooftops, the poles that once stood straight, now bowing from the weight they once shouldered so proudly. Boards missing and tin curling back only remind me of a normal aging process. These barns were once living things that protected us and the farm. Without these barns, crops and livestock would have perished.... possibly even a few human lives would have been lost. They stood strong and graciously performed every task that was demanded of them. Now it was time to let them rest in peace. Standing quietly on a sunny afternoon, I swear I could hear a gentle sigh. The barns knew I was admiring them and not wishing them to be strong again or worse, gone, but just admiring them. Gentle souls they are, having completed their task in life. I ran my hands across a splintered paint chipped board and bid the old barn farewell. I thanked it for everything it did for me and for everyone who ever entered its doors, and as my fingers brushed away from the course weathered board I could feel a life slipping away peaceful and content. So much can change in a lifetime or even a moment and I refuse to be sad when I see death or decay. Life is a cycle and we must all embrace death as a beginning. I've probably repeated this too many times and I'll more than likely live to regret it, but I've made the claim that when my Mom does finally go to join my Dad, I'm going to officially declare myself an only child. I've always been the youngest of thirteen and I've lived my whole life being "the baby". I've listened to drama, been part of the drama, and outlived some of the drama. Most of it not my fault and not my business. None-the-less, I was put their by the powers that be for a reason. I've been working hard at trying to figure out why and believe I'm getting close to an answer. I'm struggling with a question though. If a relative who's just mean and hateful wasn't related I would NEVER be friends with or want to socialize with them. So why does the fact that we're related change that decision? A bastard is a bastard and I don't hang out with bastards!! Now don't get me wrong.... my whole family is NOT like that and claiming myself an only child does NOT mean I'll end communication with most of my family. They'll simply become friends at that point, and the ones who have caused me so much grief will be placed in another folder until which time it becomes full and I can "Empty" it. I guess in doing this I'm tricking myself into believing that if they're not related the loss won't be so great when they die. Perhaps in time I'll change my mind, but for now it's comforting and I guess foolish to think, this way I won't lose any more relatives. My Mom claims she can hear my Dad snoring. Now I didn't hear it myself, but I TOTALLY believe her, since I've had my own ghostly experiences. She said how "just the other night I was sittin here with nothing on, and I heard him snoring". Now, there are thirteen of us kids. It's highly unlikely that if Mom was sitting there with nothing on, that it was DAD that was snoring. Of course she meant no radio was playing or TV was on, just quiet, but it was still funny. It's good that she hears and has even seen his ghost, and I'm glad she tells us about it. Of course there will be that last time she sees him that none of us will ever hear about, and that's when he'll come to take her. 54 years of marriage..... he BETTER be the one to come get her!!! I'm 44 yrs old, I finally, several years ago, got the courage to hug my Mom when I saw her and when I was leaving. We never were big on hugs growing up... not sure why... we just weren't. The thing that bugs me the most is why I can't tell her I love her. I talked to my Dad 4 days before he died, knowing he was dying and didn't tell him how much he really meant to me. I didn't hug him. I played it safe and told him to tell everyone Hi for me when he got there. Yep, that's me make a joke before your final exit.... don't let 'em know how you really feel. Well, I hugged Mom really hard when I left. I also paid attention to how soft her sweater felt on my finger tips as they brushed across her shoulders. Shoulders that have carried the weight of the world for so many years and just now are starting to rest. I watched Mom in the rear view mirror and stopped at the end of the driveway to admire her. How many times she must have stood just like that.... strong and proud and protective. How soon would she breath that sigh of relief when she knew her work was done. Just like the coffin and the barn board, she has all these qualities and more. She carries compassion and most of all unquestionable love. I'm glad I got to visit and I hope there are many more, but if those same powers that put me here decide to take her, I won't have any regrets. I may not have told her How much I love her, but at least I didn't make her doubt it.

Spring is AWESOME!!

Although I didn't get any really great shots outside, I did manage to remember to take a few pics of a really incredible day!! Sat morning started out at 59 degrees and just kept getting better. Steve and I cleaned house for awhile getting ready for some friends who were coming to visit later.

What was supposed to be an overcast and possibly rainy day turned out to be sunny and warm.The day wouldn't be normal if I didn't have to run to the store for some last minute things, and when I returned Jon and Steph had just called from down at the river. Perfect timing!!! See, they like to take their dogs hiking first and then swing by here.... sometime for short visits and other times for dinner. I wish they'd hike more often because we really enjoy their company.This time they brought both Turk and Beau. Turk used to be our pup until Blaze started having all kinds of issues and we thought it best to make him an only child, so we adopted Turk out to Jon and Steph. I swear they were sent from heaven, because I never saw Turk as happy as he is with them. Turns out Blaze was just angry and Turk wasn't the cause of it at all. It all worked out in the end. So.... Jon and Steph got here.... we sat outside for most of the afternoon just enjoying the sun. I fixed us Shrimp/bacon/beef kabobs with fennel/onion and squash.... marinated in my secret sauce. Oven roasted potatoes with caramelized onions and ice cream for dessert. After dinner we sat inside playing Cranium. This of course was a challenge game since Steve and Jon beat Steph and I last time. Now mind you, it's been 5 hrs and a couple bottles of wine later for Steve and Steph. Jon and I stuck to ice tea, but Steve's a .... how should I put it..... a seasoned drinker.... Steph is not, so I already had a handicap!!! Well let me tell you... I'll take her drunk as a partner anytime. She might not have been able to remember answering any questions, but she got 'em right!!! WOOHOO... Way to go Steph!!!! I must admit.... It was quite entertaining to see Steph drunk. Especially when we watered down her wine.... and she thought it was the ice cream that made it taste so foul. I'm not sure what the expression on Jons face was, but I laugh every time I look at it. "for better or worse", Jon.... LOL

It got a little unpredictable from time to time, but she pulled through.

You'd think Turk never left the way he crashed on the couch. He was so relaxed and so was Beau....

He couldn't quite get his mouth around the bone, but once he got it where he wanted it..... no other dog was gonna take it!!!

The day, the visit, the friends, the food, the fun....... it was all so unbelievably awesome!! Steve and I haven't laughed so hard and so much in such a long time. I hope we can plan something with them again soon. It's always too long between visits. Happy Spring Everyone!!!

Single Car Wake Up Call

My morning started as usual with coffee and a few references to Dagwood and Blondie, which is always the case when catching Steve putting his shoes on before his pants. I get him out the door, sit at my computer by the window and wait to hear the train whistle fade into the tunnel. That job is done until I hear that whistle once again around 6pm and he returns. This morning as I sat down, I heard a horrible crash and what sounded like crunching metal..... then the phone rang. Of course I snatched the phone off its base and there was Steve asking me to call 911... somebody had hit a pole at the entrance to the train lot. Since the train was just pulling out he knew he would loose connection. Have you ever called 911 and had to explain to them how you heard an accident.... you didn't see it but you knew where it was and what happened because someone called you and told you about it? The poor operator thought I was insane for sure, but they dispatched, and emergency vehicles were on their way. Apparently a commuter late for the train saw this LARGE telephone pole and decided to remove the right front quarter panel from their car with it. I'm not sure what speed this car must have been traveling to do this much damage, but DAMN!! It took the tire off. Air bags deployed and it all came to a stop some 40ft past the pole.

The pole that caused all this damage is actually an old one only used to lift wires higher over the road. This tired piece of wood has been hit so many times it's warped and splintered from top to bottom. It was even hit by lightening once when it used to hold a transformer years ago. Now it's just there to protect the REAL pole behind it and occasionally jump in front of speeding commuters. I won't even discuss what sex the driver was. Several Park employees told me the "driver" was OK, but the ambulance still took the "driver" to the hospital to be looked at. I have to say.... I'm not a drama freak. I don't chase ambulances to see the gore. I sickens me to watch anything like the 9/11 events. I find no thrill in witnessing or seeing this type or any type of devastation. I went to see this specific wreckage because it happened only moments after Steve crossed its path. I had to see what could have caused my heart to break..... what Could have been the worst day of my life.... what COULD have even meant the death of me. How much more important an accident becomes when it happens near a loved one. Steve is fine, and I hope the "driver" is too, and although I already try to live every day as if it were my last, I'll accept this sign. What we is have is so precious and should never be taken for granted. So, call an old friend... send someone a card.... tell your best friend how much he or she means to you.

March and The Promise!

Many are unaware or maybe just don't care, but I for one remember the legends. My parents were excellent at filling me and any other child who happened to hang around with the horror of what could happen if you stepped on a crack or where hair might grow if you did that. It took a lot of ridicule in my early adult life to get me beyond these myths, but the ones I still hold true are the ones about the weather. You see, my folks were like weather gurus. My dad could tell it was going to rain a full 24 hrs before it happened, and this was before the terror they call the weather channel. Mom n Dad knew when winter storms were coming... they were amazing. The one weather legend my Dad always cussed about and touted as completely wrong was March.... "In like a Lion, Out like a Lamb". He'd say, "Lamb my Ass". March never left us with anything other than below normal temperatures and an annual Nor-Easter. Of course now I know that phrase apparently has its origins with the constellations Leo, the Lion, and Aries, the ram or lamb, but still.... March is a unique month. We tend to hold our breath waiting.... watching for those first few drops of spring to touch our face and tease our taste buds. A flower here... a blossom there and then WHAM...... Winters back!! Worse than being snatched from our false spring is that now we've missed March and what it's really about. We've oohed and ahhd almost trance like at every morsel of a promise that winter is over, unable to realize how important a transition this is. March is for preparation. My Dad was never idle during this time of year, and neither am I. My childhood reasons for loving March are the same, only my location has changed. Daily temperatures, the sunrise, the sunset, the color of the moon.... its all different in March. I know, you say "but it's different every month"! "None of them offer the promise like March", I reply. Why are those last few days so harsh, so often? To shock us into recognition. We must all be reminded to appreciate what this covenant is about to bestow on us. When Steve and I moved to Harpers Ferry.... it was March 3rd 2001. That month I saw my first perfect moon..... I really saw it. I watched not just MY first sunrise, but what could have only been the FIRST sunrise ever. Its warmth I can still feel upon my face. I saw for the first time flowers bloom and trees blossom and with each passing day I grew more saddened because I knew that March would leave and I would forget. I would forget to appreciate all that was given. I'd take for granted that beautiful sunrise, the moon and how it made the rivers shimmer in the darkness. The dew on the cool grass and all the new smells that would awaken over the next few weeks. This fear forced us to lay at night promising to never let each other take such breathtaking beauty for granted. It came to me almost in a dream. I knew how to make every day in our new home, every sunrise, every full moon, every new bird to the feeder, just like the first one. We would share our home with anyone and everyone. We'd start by inviting the annual parade of thru-hikers to stay at night and camp in our back yard. I leveled off some nice tent sites and posted an ad for free hiker accommodations at the ATC. They started to trickle in 2 at a time. I can still remember our first guests... Harp and Spoon!! It had begun.... for two years we viewed March as the beginning. The start of another season of new friends and friendly faces. Another year of hearing how beautiful the sunrise was and how bright the moon was through the trees. We were never allowed to forget the promise. Our first year we had 162 hikers stay with us and we remember every one. Our second year we were shut down at 67 hikers because of some neighbors who felt dirty hikers would somehow lower their property value. I'm not quite sure how vinyl siding and asphalt shingles can depreciate any more than they do once you purchase them, but none-the-less.... we were closed. I'm reminded of the fun times through old pictures and a guest book I asked every visitor to sign. Memories that will last me a lifetime of March's. A few tents scattered along the hillside.... even a hiker in the shadows. The Cow and the anal one who live behind us, accused our hiker guests of defecating and urinating in the yard between us and them. This of course was not true.... the hikers used our bathroom. Town officials though, with their feeble egos hadn't been asked for permission by us to have guests on our property from time to time, so they demanded we attend a town meeting to discuss these accusations. In protest to my nosey neighbors attempt to discredit the hikers, we placed a toilet in clear view of their deck and used it to ice down drinks. When it wasn't being used as a cooler, it made a nice planter. Sadly we closed our door, and we closed our hearts to the town of Harpers Ferry. It took us several years to overcome the sadness, the anger, the frustration caused by two meddlesome, white picket fence entombed, transplants from Fredneck MD. We're indifferent to them now.... how I wish their two howling barking dogs would find a new home though. We still have guests, but they can't sleep in the yard.... and we still appreciate the promise. What will you bring me this year, March? I'm pretty sure these jewels of the forest were carried in on some unsuspecting hikers boot. Golden Morels..... what a delicious treat each spring and just another yearly reminder of March's Promise. I hope you can understand The Promise and embrace March in all its warmth and fury..... for if you don't..... It's not only the 1st of April that will be the fool.

One of THOSE families

Steve and I went to FL for his family reunion. Now I don't know anyone who says,"I'm going to my family reunion, YAY!!!" Usually that comment is accompanied with eye rolls, maybe sweaty palms and occassionally passing out, but rarely ever is it associated with a gleeful like demeanor. Now add FL as the location and it gets even scarier. On top of that.... add the fact that we're taking AMTRAK to get there. Not only might we NEVER make it, spending 17 hrs with a bunch of Seizure World Escapees in diapers and those forbidden to fly can only be described as terrifying. We left our Jeep at Shady Grove Metro which is our closest Metro stop to DC, and headed into town. Union Station is always busy, but get there at lunch.... Holy Hell!!!! WARNING!!! If you've never been to Union Station.... DON'T let your first time be lunchtime. We were both seasoned Washingtonians at one time, so we could sit back and laugh at all the madness. Our train was on time and we thought maybe this is a good sign.... until we got on the train. Our seat assignment which was given to us before we stepped aboard was already occupied and unfortunately for us, by the 15 yr old son of some trash mouth trailer park heiffer from Baltimore MD, who just happenned to be seated directly in front of him. Come to find out, after listening to her bitch out the conductor and throw a few choice comments to us, it was her son who couldn't read. He was in the wrong seat. Now the mood was set and all we could look forward to was her COW ass being loud and obnoxious. Fortunately, being gay comes with perks..... like sleeping pills and muscle relaxers. A few hours into this descent into hell we were in a comfortable coma. Somewhere near southern VA or North Carolina we had a vision. I'm not sure if it was the muscle relaxers, the sleeping pill or the double Jacks we were swigging, but there it was.... the hand of god. Just like in Leonardos Sistine Painting it loomed alongside our train. Everyone must have seen it because it wasn't long after the whole car fell asleep as if assured we were all safe for the night. It's funny how liquor and prescription drugs are said to be a bad combination, but I woke 8 hours later feeling all refreshed. Shortly after we started rubbing our sleepy eyes though we had another vision and realized we MUST be in florida, because the hand of god had changed into what looked like god reaching for a beer!! Startled by this transformation we called an attendant who informed us it was our own reflection and that the bar was closed. Huh!?!?! She couldn't however dismiss THIS bold advertisement by some local lesbian businesswomen!! We all know about scary movies and Murphys Law. DON'T EVER SAY ANYTHING to jinx your trip. Upon hearing some IDIOT in our car say, "We're making GREAT time", a car hit our train. Actually, a car was rear ended, and pushed into our train..... so there we sat until the police and the freakin news reporters got the hell out of our way. I'm often completely amazed at the ignorant shit that gets covered by reporters. (NEWS Reporter... here we have a car that was hit by another car and didn't quite hit a train but came very close and we're going to stop the train so we can get a better explanation of what really didn't happen here and then we're gonna embellish just a little to make it and our lives sound a little more important.) KILL THEM>>>>>> ALL!!!!! You have to understand... we had just one more stop and people were starting to wake up. I didn't want to be with them the night before and now they were gonna be awake and grumpy all over again. I just wanted OFF the train. Eventually we got to our stop...... PALATKA, FL. Now if you express to Palatka locals your fear of getting mugged or killed, they'll immediately tell you, "Oh no, you're thinking of someplace else." I then apologize and tell them I was unaware that all those people lying around the train station were actors. That they did a really good job of looking like drunks and drug addicts. Kudos to the Fl Tourism Office!! I also have to remember that throwing my luggage off the train really isn't a good thing especially if I'm gonna fall down the steps behind it. The "Oh Dear" expressions on Steve's Parents faces however were worth it!! We're staying with and being chauffeured by Rose Nylans relatives..... actually it's Steve's folks, and they rented a place in Palm Coast. The furniture at the apt. was that faded pepto bismal color and painted bamboo. I had also forgotten how Fl renamed everything..... Is it called a Great Room because of all the wasted space? It served the same purpose as my living room and truthfully it was a designers nightmare so why was it referred to as Great? I decided I'd rather hang out on the porch and said so only to be corrected like a catholic school boy... It's a lanai not a porch... get it right next time. Once we had freshened up we loaded up and headed for St Augustine which falls a close 2nd to Disney world for being a tourist trap. Although it's literally littered with history, you can't go 20ft without being greeted with a Yo Ho Ho by some Salty Pirate. Don't get me wrong, St Augustine has so much to see and do and what amazed me immensely was the awestruck manner in which many tourists viewed certain attractions. Granted, our country is only so old, but when you're in a city that was founded in 1565 you'd think there'd be enough attractions you wouldn't need to create any. Just Not True. In the 1920's there was this thing called the Old Spanish Trail ,which linked St Augustine FL to San Diego CA. I'm sure 3000 miles of roadway was an achievement in the early 1900s and something to remember, but to mark the Zero Mile with a giant stone marble???? There is one thing I Love about FL.... that would be Spanish Moss!!! I'm not quite sure why seeing it hanging from the big oaks is so romantic, but it is. It just sways in the breeze like transparent images of spirits too attached to say goodbye. Walking under one of these majestic trees dripping in moss, our footsteps were eerily silenced as if we hadn't earned the right to be here and therefore made invisible. Each breath granted to us was scented with centuries of ethereal beauty not for our eyes but our minds...... and we were at peace. One day Steve will return to the south and if for only this reason, it should be enough. The St Augustine Lighthouse. It's nice to find someplace like this still open to the public and on such a nice day!! Steve and I after climbing what seemed like the Everest of Cathedrals while in Italy, didn't blink at our decision to climb this lighthouse. It's only 141 ft to the observation platform compared to the 340-some feet to the top of the Florence Cathedral. Each level was halved so there was a place to rest had we gotten winded. This was a shot from the bottom looking up! I threw this in, because it was so nice to see spring everywhere!! Reunion day..... Saturday!! I guess I'm used to reunions being at some matriarchal home and therefore starting around breakfast and continuing for several days. I'm not sure why I think that's how it should be, because my family has never HAD a family reunion. Perhaps I've fantasized enough times about being from the kind of family where everyone gathers at grandmas dressed in summer whites and laughs and plays yard games only to rest for a cold glass of lemonade or some delicious food that just appears. I might make fun of family reunions but I know it takes a special kind of person to commit to such an event. Actually I'm kind of jealous of people who can visit their relatives every year on the same day..... jealous because in the name of reunion they get away with only having to do it once. I, on the other hand, must visit my own several times each year only to be reminded how I wish MY family was one of THOSE families. There never is enough time to form any kind of lasting alliance with any of my siblings, so with each visit I risk being labeled an intruder as I approach the family cave and thus killed. Steve's family plans ahead. They send out invitations that when waved in front of you act as some sort of surrender flag and ultimately gets you past the gunner. The Rossman Family has been holding this celebration for many years. Choosing Easter as their target date and hoping it would fall near their grandmas birthday of April 15th. This year however, Easter was in March. Now I could figure this out, but could the 93 yr old Grandma Rossman? She was happy to see everyone and I'm sure by the end of the day had a permanent smile from all the pictures she posed for!!! The Host/Chef/Happiest Laugh.... Steve's Aunt Laura. She's one of those contagiously funny people that can take your sour mood and turn into belly busting laughter in minutes. Every family should have one of her.... the world would be a better place. Steve with his Aunt Gail who's only 2 yrs older than him. Here they're trying to figure out how to assemble plastic eggs. Steve's convinced that the Chinese employee that made these is still laughing at the ignorant American consumer who bought them. Once they figured out how to snap the two halves together they headed off to hide them. It was funny watching the kids follow them around.... both of them oblivious to the fact the children were just picking them up as soon as they were put down. After watching the Egg hiders for awhile I turned my attention to an even more intriguing event taking place on the lawn behind me. Evidently, "Trick Kites" do more than tricky maneuvers, they can also bewilder even the most seasoned reunion participants. Here are Steve's dad Tom, Jim and Andy discussing the proper placement of the kite poles in order to get the Kite in flight. I do have one picture of the kite in the air, but I'm not sure if tossing it up counts!! Tom's holding the kite while Jim readies himself for the ultimate blast-off. I'm pretty sure the most repeated phrase of the day was, Run Jim, Run!! Family photos have never been one of my favorite things to do. I always get stuck standing next to someone who either annoys me or decided just that day to annoy me. When taking pictures of someone elses family, I'm quite content to have them change places from tallest to shortest.... oldest to youngest... however I see fit. Being the photographer means I'm not IN the picture!! Here are Steve's aunts, uncles and mom. Gail, Armond, Karl, Linda(mom), & Pat Here we have the In-Laws Tom(dad), Mildred, Jim, Laura & Grandma Don't even ask me if this is all the grand children. This IS a picture of the grand kids however. I took nearly 350 pictures in all and I'm sure I was photographing strangers as well, since we were in a State Park!! The reunion ended as the clouds rolled in.... Even though we didn't get any rain it was still good timing. Packed up.... everyone headed for somebodys home. We went back to Golden Girl Hell and slept. The next day we headed over to Gail n Jims. I'm now a believer in backyard mini-golf. What a cool way to sweat out your beer!!! Here you can actually see my ball in flight. The course is an intricate layout of small redbud trees with large carved out rings around them. The object is to hit your ball from one tree ring to the next in as few hits as possible. Here you see two bowls filled with water. Hit the ball in the larger bowl and you've won the game...... doesn't matter what your score was. I SUCK at this game!! We came, we visited, we grumbled, we ate, we slept, we even got some sun. Eventually though we had to head for home..... so back on the train we went. Tired and not as scared we settled in for a 20 hr return trip. So, for what it's worth.... Florida isn't really that bad! Maybe because it was where my marriage ended..... It was the place where my close relationship with my children was interrupted..... It was where I was outed to my family..... It was where I witnessed numerous deaths from AIDS..... I'm not sure really why I dislike Florida so. I do know this..... I'm glad I made this trip... because now I no longer have to wish to be one of THOSE Families...... I AM one of those families!!

Adjustment Disorders

This is one you don't hear about very often. We all know someone who's suffered from or is currently being treated for Depression. We've been bludgeoned nightly by screwballs like Nancy Grace trying to figure out WHY they did it? WHO FREAKIN CARES???? It's natural selection and eventually it takes cows like her. My subject... Adjustment Disorders. Have you ever know someone that you just couldn't figure out? Why do they tell the far fetched stories they do or why they might say things to you that are just downright mean. They steal from you and lie about it. Why they always have to drop names or worse... act as if they're Mr Superlative? (I'll go into that more, another time) I've blamed this type of bad social behavior on many things, and just like a doctor who treats the symptoms and not the cause, I'm also wrong. Apparently there's a psychological excuse for being a *##*ing Bastard or a god*##* Bitch. If they can just get all the "poor me" reasons together they have an official excuse for people not wanting them around. They would after awhile find themselves completely isolated if it weren't for the codependency of others. Every disorder has those who suffer their own issues to the point they can only befriend other disturbed people. Lets not forget the unsuspecting innocents who earnestly engage themselves in what appears to be a budding relationship, only to realize they're being used. So it's usually in hindsight that we discover the treacherous behavior wasn't imagined at all. Eventually we become jaded to socializing altogether. Even families suffer from our unwillingness to participate in weddings/birthdays/...... funerals. Does avoiding these people or the places they might be make us safe? Does this label us with our own disorder? Maybe!! Who knows for sure. I do know this.... If I can avoid the person or the place, and I can do so without regret or resentment, then I have overcome their negative aura. Having done so, I must without a doubt prepare myself for their inevitable emotional breakdown. I must be physically and mentally strong in order to help them understand WHY, when they're ready. I'm not really sure why I wrote about this today... There are of course a few obvious reasons.... some of them daily, but deeper than that I'm finally making some sense of my own life. I'll never fully understand the reasoning behind the decisions some people make, but I don't have to allow those decisions to impact me negatively. My daily reminder should be...... not what I don't want, but what I DO Want! I want to smile I want to laugh I want to hold only goodness in my soul I wholeheartedly assign myself these three tasks. Adjustment Disorder?????? Not for me.Obviously I was trained at an early age to fight back, or maybe I was simply establishing my place. Maybe I was already keenly aware of "Bad Apples". Good thing too, because bad apples exist a lot more places than Down County. It's a strange metaphor... especially since it's been a part of my life for so long, but we all know how one bad apple can spoil the bunch. What do you do? You throw that apple out. I WANT to be surrounded by GOOD APPLES!!

He's Returned!!

Some of you may not know this....

Two years ago Steves group at work

agreed to move into a sub-basement work space.

This was for two years and when that two years

was up, they were to be placed in a nice new

well lit with windows upper floor.

When they moved down into what has been

referred to as the dungeon.... Steve stopped

trimming his goatee.

For two years we've watched

him brush, condition, brush, condition, brush.....

you get it. Well, this morning he let me cut it off.

I have to tell you.... I was sad to see it go being

a beard lover and all around fan of facial hair.

However, after a fresh haircut and shave......

We ended up with this!!!! A Very handsome Boo!!

Spring is here and I've got a date!!!! WOOHOO!!