One Thing For Sure Laura Bush and I Have In Common...

We both throw ourselves on the granade to protect and/or defend our family.

Maybe that's what I did and it exploded all over me.

Palm Sunday possum with the grandkids

UGH! I have been writing for an hour and everything was accidently deleted.
Geesh, there was a whole lot of information. I'm taking a break and maybe will resume writing later.

Bottom line is, there is no way I can nurse that squished out from the run over mommy possum's womb possum. I don't care how cute Alexander and Victoria's faces are, no grandma milk for the marsupial!!!

Who Ya Gonna Call? Ghostbusters??

I reached for my phone to dial up Mom again. Then I recalled she is dead. Dead. Still Dead. That's what my brother Steve says about our Dad and surely now Mom is included in that comical veiled spewing of masked emotions. Or maybe that's just the way he talks.

As I write, Mom is nestled in the crystal bowl in the china cabiner, er, no, it's a breakfront because china cabinets are one piece and breakfronts are two piece and the one in there is two piece And yes I remember where Mom is-she just wouldn't answer the phone.

Giggle giggle, I wonder what would happen if I went in there and just started talking to her ashes in the bowl in the breakfront. hmmmm. Oh wait I can't because SarahFaith and btw I like Sarah and Faith to be one word just as I like Alanda and Grace be one word so don't let anyone fool you into a name that's really not yours and I wonder what my New Name will be, er i don't want to talk about that now. I may or may not whisper a word or two in the general direction of the breakfront.

LOL. My Mother sure had a way with words and omgosh, if I only knew then what I know now then I would have paid more attention but actually, it was quite the survival dynamic even getting to Here. lol, the road to erehwon. And thanks Paul Dingman for that and how your heart is blessed my miracles and women who love their men and I hope your wife loves you again, sometime, soon in This Lifetime. Paul is a man who read the article, Covered In The Word, Guideposts SEP 96. Paul is a man after God's heart who sent me a letter remarking not only on the Power Of God for Miracles but also in awe of my determination not to sign the harvest the organ papers on David, Lazarus Junior. giggles. David a True Blessing and Totally Wild to Have A Conversation With AnyTime.

Yikes, I FEEL the NEED to call someBody. Drama with daughters AlandaGrace and SarahFaith last night and then spilling briefly over into this afternoon. I usually think and say, "Why run to the phone lines in the prayer chain! Run to the MAIN LINE, Jesus our Christ!" I was taught taht the older ladies were supposed to mentor the younger ladies. Where's my mentor?

But now here I am with two of my three daughters so angry at me that they are spouting cruel words about Moving Out and I Can't Stand You. It's very painful. I could ignore it. I love them they are my family. Yikes, how do you tell the younger ones about Loving US now because we THEY are US we won't be here to tell about Them. LOL. I love you, with a capital L. I vow NOT to download and pirate CSNY's Teach Your Children. giggles giggles and woo hoo. It IS Spring Break 2005 here.

Blog Beginnings

Purple words on a grey background only there is no grey background. Purple words on a grey background, to be a woman and to be turned down. It's from an oldie but goody by Neil Young. It is one of many 70's songs that shaped to some upth of a degree my perception of life ..it probably fed into the whole demon of rejection battle that throughout my life I've warred against. A consequence of it (the battle against rejection) is that memberships to various clubs and organizations were a must for me. Nobody was ever going to expel me for not having The Belong Card. That's how I ended up with a membership club card, among other orgainzations, to various Officer's Clubs, but that's another story.
So today is day one of blogging. I'm sitting on the north east coast of Florida, woo hoo. It's spring break 2005, yet another woo hoo. I've been journaling for years. I was born to write and feel. Oh, do I FEEL. I'm a totally feeling person. How do I feel? I feel with my hands. Giggle giggle. That's been a standard response to inquires on the status of my feelings. For one whole year I was editor of The Roadrunner, a montly newsletter for members of the Fort Huachuca Officer Wives Club(FHOWC). I did more than edit. I created and composed all of the numerous columns, wrote antedotes, marketed the newsletter for advertizers, complied, colated and basically, I was the newsletter. It turned into a mini-magazine that not only the officer wives looked forward to receiving in the mail, but also their husbands. I really cracked up everybody on Fort Huachuca. I learned Microsoft Publisher by trial and error which now I know is so very easy but at the time this gentle lady picked up a chair and tossed it across the room in frustration. Yeah, the newsletter taught me alot about myself. I am very proud of it. I was fun. I should have made a career out of it. But, it really wasnt' for the Roadrunner that caused my mini celebrity status out of FH. It was The Accident and The Miracle of 1995. But, that's another story.
I am typing this blog and staring out the sliding glass doors to keep a visual track on Mr. Wally Gator, the swinging operator, who is content of swimming back and forth in the canal in the backyard. I've lived in Florida for two years and three months. Before that I lived in Copperas Cove, Texas outside of Fort Hood for about five years, I haven't done the math on that yet. I've lived in Florida, Texas, Arizona, upstate New York, Oklahoma, the Panama Canal Zone (which after the Carter -Torrejos Treaty the 'canal zone' tag dropped and it is now only the Republic of Panama-I have many stories from the days in PCZ. In a very large way, I feel as if my life started when I moved there at the age of 23) and of course, Ohio where I was born and raised.
One of the columns I wanted to start in the Roadrunner was going to be titled Meandering Streams. My style of writing is mostly rambling on and on and on. I was able to do this in the last column in the newsletter which was mine and I titled it Beep-Beeps. For my children who may be reading this, there is in my file cabinet most if not all of the Roadrunners. You can catch a glimpse of what I tried to do with the newsletter, which is primarily cause others to laugh, while putting out pertinent information, and bring others together in a way that would give valus and peace and love. Oh yes, let me not forget about peace and love. For sure, my blog will be a meandering stream. Quit