Quick Quips

1. My vet, who I haven't seen in approx 3 months (and think of all the people that come through her doors) said to me yesterday. "I love your haircut" I was astonished she even noticed

2. A six (let me emphasize SIX) year old who I only met once, at Christmas, asked me yesterday, at our second meeting ever.... "What happened to your hair?"

3. Have you ever found a spot in your home, that you seldom see, and go 'OH MY GOD THAT IS FILTHY AND GROSS" I found that spot today. It was in the bathroom, the area behind the stand of a pedestal sink.

4. Ya gotta love a ferret that is so good about liter boxes that she used an empty one (no liter) that was by the sink to washed and scrub

Justice Served with no Apologies

Finally...
I wont apologize. I sat at her funeral. I watched her mother, sister and best friend break down to heaping sobs and I cried with them. Its time he were finally dead. Almost 30 years ago to the day, Oscar Ray Bolin took the life of a friend and once co worker. He was convicted, not once, but through appeals, 3 times of the murder of Natalie Blanche Holley, BJ to those who knew her. He was also convicted 3 times in the murders of Stephanie Collins and Teri Lynn Mathews. He was under suspicion of 4 other Bay area murders he never went to trial for, as well as a Texas woman and the rape of an Ohio woman. How is it he has gotten 30 years to live life and to actually fall in love and marry. (ya believe it or not his lawyer) These are things Natalie never got to do, still dreams at the age of 25. So when they injected him, after a 4 hour delay, and his ever pathetic life oozed from his body, I was glad...
Rest in peace Natalie, justice has been served.

Mother Nature's Way

For November it is repressively hot. Mother nature has been breaking records with 90 degree temperatures. This much heat in Novembers makes me uncomfortable. Not uncomfortable because its hot and humid but because it should be cool, dry and perfect for sitting outdoors having a glass of wine and reading a book. I decided to brave the heat and work on the garden I had planned out. Even in the heat, there is something about working in the dirt and planting that is cathartic. I love creating something that will be eye pleasing. 15 years ago the backyard started out a barren and uninviting space. It has slowly become my oasis as plants have gotten taller and block out the surrounding rooftops. Colors splash at different times of  the year and sometimes I can even forget the world. Its still a work in progress, but that's the fun of it. Today it didn't take long for the sweat to start soaking through the clothes. I jammed to my music, dug holes and planted. With every plunge of the shovel into the ground, pent up frustrations dissipated. Fresh new dirt would would give growth to the plants that I nurtured in pots for several years. Some of those plants had been re-potted over and over and it was time to give them to the ground. Two cacti were special. They had been Pete's; a Buxbaum and a Fish Hook. I also had an Agave and 2 Bayonets. The heat was getting over bearing and I knew it meant rain was likely. I was close to being done when the blue skies started to give way to gray and a breeze began to stir. It wasn't long after that the first raindrops began to fall. The rain got heavier but it felt so cool on my skin after the blazing sun and heat that I kept digging and planting. The rain got heavy and splashed mud onto my arms and legs. I stood up and let the rain wash over me. There is something cleansing about standing in a downpour. I love the rain. I love the smell of rain and I just stood there soaked to the skin with my eyes closed, eventually jolted back to reality by a low rumbling of thunder. In Florida, that's the time to call it quits and head indoors. I gathered up the wet tools and put them away and I, with my spirit now cleansed, headed indoors to wash they physical vessel.

Cassie Has Earned Her Wings

Cassie is gone.... Her full name was lovingly, Cassie Barracuda Piranha Shark.
She will be remembered by many memories and a few scars on my hands and wrists.
Cassie was a troubled fur child. When she arrived her goal was always to maim.  She was filled with so much anger. I knew I was taking on a hard project with her. While she clamped down on the soft skin between my thumb and finger, I promised her, no matter what, this was the last home she would ever go to. She could display her anger, her frustrations and her distrust all she wanted. I would never send her away. In time she came to trust my son and me, and while we were able to rid her of her thirst for blood, she always had to remind us with her lick, lick chomp, that she was in charge and keeping an eye on us. I used to curse at those "nips" but in later years came to love them.
   Last night we watched a sunset together. Beautiful pinks adorned the sky. How perfect I thought. She was brought to me in a pink blanket. AS the air got cooler we sat by a fire. She laid in my lap so quietly. Was she thinking about her next great journey? I had already told her about the Bridge and that all of her friends would be there so we discussed her wings, pouncing on fluffy clouds and how honored I was to have her in my life. As we sat... I realized my decision to let her go was the right thing to do. I know we always have our doubts, but Cassie hardly even moved. She loved the outdoors: digging in the dirt, rooting around in the grass and sniffing the air. She did none of this....she just lay in my lap, listening and occasionally letting out a sigh. When she came here she had so much baggage: loneliness, heartache, distrust, pain, fear... I hope when she left those bags were repacked and overflowing with love, hugs, kisses, happy memories and enough N-Bones to last her until it is my turn to leave this earth.
   Dr Helmer is a kind and gentle person. He spoke to Cassie the entire time and I held her rubbing her head. Its ironic that the heart we were trying so hard to keep going, we now ordered to stop. She is at peace now: happy, whole and free of pain. The house will be quieter...... less energy..... I have been left with a broken heart but a richer life.

In my best French accent........................ to the last one......
                                           
                                                        Viva la Revolution! 

Lazy Afternoons

More and more I have come to appreciate the lazy afternoon. Not a lazy afternoon as in having the tv on blaring away mindless drivel at you, but a lazy afternoon of quiet and serenity, reading a book, e-mails or sipping wine and chatting on line with a friend. The kind of day where weather permits you to take advantage of a gentle breeze and feeling the suns warmth on your skin. I can hear the birds chirp, squirrels chattering and the occasional laughter of the neighborhood children playing. Moments like this help cleanse the soul of the noise and clutter that stresses me out the rest of the week. While I know I have to rejoin the rat race, this helps me cope with it. I find the quiet soothing and enjoying sitting for a spell. Am I turning into an old fart? I watch children go, go , go; teenagers plug into their I-Pods and blast music into their heads while texting to 20 friends at one time; young adults scurry past in a hurry to get to their next destination. Maybe as I get older my head can't handle all the auditory bustle and needs a time out. Maybe thats why my father takes naps now. It isn't that his body is getting old, its just taking a break from all the crap that civilization throws at it. I sat and watched a legion of ants break down and cart off a roach carcass. Ew you say.....have you ever watched them? It's amazing! And its free entertainment from mother nature. I was disconnected from everything around me. A nose poke from my cat brought me back to reality. I would guess that living on my own allows me to move at my own pace and maybe has given me an advantage to enjoy more restful afternoons before hitting the golden years. I must say I highly recommend stopping to smell the roses but why not stop and listen to the breeze and mother natures chorus. You won't hyperventilate.

Ultimate in Laziness

I think I just saw the ultimate in laziness.

I'm overweight and I would NEVER consider using an aid to get me around. I don't spend 20 minutes looking for the nearest parking spot and if I can walk to a store that is short distance I will. Walking doesn't bother me. I can blame some of my heaviness on genetics, some of it is my fault with poor food choices. When the cooler weather is a round I take power walks. When summer comes I don't. If I had the room I would get a treadmill, sadly I don't, not unless I want to put it in my kitchen.

There is a guy I see quite often pass by outside my window at work . He is in an electric scooter chair. Today a perfectly able female, was sitting on his lap, steering his Scooter. He is this skinny little guy and she is a rather large woman. You can hardly see him with her on his lap. Why is she not walking beside him? I hate when I see over weight people using electric carts and in the stores. It really pisses me off. I feel like telling them to get their fat ass up and walk. Its what I wanted to tell the woman sitting in the guys lap.

What is wrong with society?

Why are we getting so lazy?

School Days

The kids are getting out for summer.
I wonder if any get the same feelings I did on that last day of school. In grade school and middle school the last week was always such a lazy week. Tests were over, homework done with and for the most part it was a clean up week. We turned in books, cleaned out desks, received papers and artwork that had been proudly displayed and bulletin boards were taken down. I remember at Juliet W Long, in good old Gales Ferry, Connecticut we had a "field day" where there were races and relays and ribbons to win, followed by a party back in our classroom. In middle school, we didn't clean out desks, but lockers. It was always bitter sweet for me. I missed teachers and the everyday routine, but summer was a time of freedom. Friends were almost always just a bike ride away, of course things were simpler then. Parents didn't need to worry about their kids being too young to ride to a friends house. They didn't worry when we didn't come home all day. Hell.....I bet my mom really loved it when my brother and I would go next door and get our good friends Kevin and Lisa and head off to the woods with a packed lunch.
Adventure awaited!
Rock hillsides to scale...
Open Fields to cross...
Deep woods to explore...
Ravines to descend...
Tadpoles to catch..
A pond to fish at...
A small creek to wade in...
There never seemed to be an end to the fun of summer. When I moved to Ohio it was vacation trips with the family, day camps, and then the wonderful, NO PARENTS, canoeing trip (camp) and biking for a week across Ohio (another camp). What freedom....what an opportunity to discover ones self.

And
on another note...

Do you have a teacher who inspired you? One you saw more in you than anyone else ever saw? I had one in middle school. I was always a low end C student. I just never felt an urge to do more than I needed to. I think I saw school more as a social gathering, a place to meet up with friends. Then one year I had a teacher who always pushed me. Push, push, push, I thought he hated me and just wanted to pick on me and make the days horrible. One day after I had had enough, I mouthed him back. He sent me out to sit in the hall. After about 5 minutes he came out with a chair, sat next to me, looked me in the eyes and said, "I push you because I know who you are. I know you're smart and I know you can do more than just skate by." He continued to talk to me. Some how he knew about other things as well... some of the not so great things going on in my life. He knew I was struggling to find me. He also seemed to know that at times I felt like I was drowning within my own family. That conversation stuck with me. I took a new look at myself and thought about how an adult showed faith and belief in me. He was someone who would listen and often when he saw me after school ( ping pong club, gymnastics, art club, intramural sports) he would stop and ask how my day had been. When track season came around (he was coach) he encouraged me to come out. I did.
Because of him, I found myself.
Because of him I applied myself to school and became an honor student; an honor student who would one day wear gold at her HS graduation.
Yesterday I found him on Facebook. I wrote him a note.
He wrote back.

Thank you Mr Cracas you were my inspiration to be more.

Letting Go

My young nephew wants to do his big boy room in Star Wars. I think, "I can help with that" So today I went out to the closet in the mud room and pulled out one of several boxes that have been hidden away for years. I open it and neatly nestled in it are Star Wars figures still in their boxes. I look them over and a sadness falls.

These were Pete's.

Why is it so hard to get rid of things? They have sat in a closet for nearly six years. I have no use for them. Why shouldn't I give them to my nephew? They would make him happy........and it wouldempty out some closet space!

*sigh*

The logical thing to do is to let someone else enjoy them vs sitting in a dark closet. I know this, but the emotions always overwhelm me. I feel likeI'm letting go of another piece of Pete. There are many other things of his still in the house. These will stay. They evoke strong memories and that is what is important.

Tomorrow I WILL suck it up and mail off the package.

I wonder if I can ever let go of the porcelain cow head that I hate so much and that he loved so much?

Remembrance

I stood and waited outside by the busy street. It was a blustery day and it caused my flag to stand out straight, flapping at attention. I strained to see down the road. Flashing lights were in the distance at the next lighted intersection. Soon the steady stream of headlights could be seen coming.....coming ever so slowly. I felt the rumble of the motorcycles and then the low growling became clearer. Cpl Jonathon Porto came home today. I raised my hand to my heart, bowed my head and said a prayer. He did not come home as a family had hoped........not as we wish all our soldiers would. He arrived at McDill Airforce Base in a flag draped casket. I had never met him; I did not know him, but I shed a tear for him...... youth lost.....a life lost. He passed by with 3 Sheriff's cars, 10 Patriot Guard Riders, his family, his friends, another 25 Patriot Guard Riders and 4 St Pete Police cruisers. It should have been more...... He gave his life for foreigners, for Americans, for you....... for me.

When will this madness end?

Someone else lost their life today......... I hope I was worth it.

The Past Influences The Future

I sat outside on the back deck, enjoying the warmth of the last sun rays of the day. I had been parusing the web and thought I would go check out my Alma Mater's web page on Facebook and get the latest news. A bunch of Alumni, students, faculty and parishioners are trying to save Wildwood Catholic from closing its doors. It appears it may happen…..being saved that is. I have been following the battle with mixed emotions.

Have I donated to the cause?

No...................

I attended Wildwood Catholic for my Junior and Senior year of high school. My family had moved to New Jersey from Florida. I was used to moving, losing friends and being forced to make new, and in most cases, temporary friends. This was the military life. What I wasn't prepared for was the small town, in your business, attitude or the narrow minds I ran into. For the most part if you weren't a local you weren't welcomed. I grew a thick skin in this town.......maybe that's just a thicker skin. I always thought I was pretty good at being me.....but there were times....a few times, my peers put me up against the wall and I almost crumbled into a heap on the ground. I found happiness in a small circle of friends in school and in folks I met through my job. My few friends at school for the most part was a group of misfits, the "square pegs." I heard the whispers, the remarks and I saw the looks. I didn't care......I was never oblivious to it all.....I just didn't care. We were, by all means, an odd group, and that made me like them all that much more. It was my times with them that made going to Wildwood Catholic bearable. It is them, that give me the warm memories and a sense of belonging.

The rest of Wildwood Catholic, well either they didn't notice me.....which is hard to believe in such a small school.....or tried to make my life miserable. I never thought being pelted with food was a whole lot of fun (with the exception of a massive food fight late one night at the Wendy's with all my co workers) but it was a common ritual if I ventured into the cafeteria alone. At these times I usually went to art class to draw away the time. Oh.... and the narrow minds..... having lived all over the US I just never gave much thought to speaking my views, but doing so sure earned me some hate mail. This rubbish was usually found between the pages of a book I may have left unattended for a brief moment, in my locker, or delivered to me via airmail by paper airplane or a wadded up piece of paper. Father Hodge was always good at reviewing the hate mail and finding a way to make me laugh, Eventually I learned to not even look at it and dispose of it in the closest garbage can. These are the things that make me not give a rats ass about Wildwood Catholic.

There were some pretty cool teachers, ones that made me laugh and ones that put up with some silly games.....hey Buck! seen Twiki? ........

I sat back in my chair and grabbed my glass of wine, while taking a sip I looked at the two envelopes on the table asking for my hard earned money. I only give twice a year to a cause. I picked up the Wildwood Catholic envelope and tossed it into the deck trash can.

Funny.......who ever thought some of those folks would want my money....