I was very disturbed earlier by email
which indicated a deliberate attempt to berate.
It has given me cause to reconsider.
The Internet has given women a sense of power.
It has allowed stay-at-home moms and seniors,
as well, an opportunity to have a stronger voice
and to accomplish things they never thought
possible. This is good. But there are those
who begin to abuse this new power. They
become filled with such an overwhelming sense
of their own importance that they disregard
all that originally brought them to this place.
I am reminded of the office of my optometrist.
I have used the same office since I was 8
years old. The doctor I saw for so many years
was tall and stoop-shouldered from decades of
bending over his patients. He had a twinkle in
his eye and a wonderful chuckle and I enjoyed
seeing him from time to time. He had
a terrific receptionist who chatted non-stop
and the patients loved her because she was
truly interested in their lives. When the
doctor became older and began his retirement
process, he brought in a partner and added a new
optician. The optician's wife began coming in to
the office to "help out." She was efficient and
officious and was going to make sure everyone
knew she ruled that office with an iron hand.
There was nothing she didn't know, of course.
Within a very short time, the beloved receptionist
quit after working in that office for over 20
years. Patients who had visited this office
for several decades began to leave to find other
doctors. If someone had bothered to tell the new
office manager that it was she who was responsible,
I'm sure she would have been surprised. I am
not positive that it would have bothered her
much or that she would have even understood what
it was about her that was driving
people away. She is too consumed with her
position and with herself to have any real
understanding or compassion for others. I continue
to go there simply because I always have, but
it is no longer the delightful place it once was.
Still, she is running a business. Much different
than being involved in a network
designed to celebrate, to share, and to have fun.
By their very nature, most women have
an innate sense of obligation. When situations
occur that throw them off track or that keep
them from getting things on their to do lists accomplished,
the sense of obligation can grow into guilt,
and can make accomplishing those things even
more difficult. The wise friend does not add
to the guilt, but instead keeps the porch light on.

I finished the above, got an illegal op and
couldn't get back into Tripod for an hour.
At 11:30, he is still up and I am not in
a real great mood. Well, at least I wasn't...
until someone wouldn't let me do anything
but laugh. Rolling eyes here. It won't be long
before Bunny has that picture she wants, ya know?

Friday morning, August 10 ~
I only have a few minutes here. One look at
the radar tells me I'd better I'd better
move quickly. Rough night last night. My giggling
quickly turned to concern as anger transformed
one who cannot afford that emotion now.
My attempt to follow him to help gave me
two more blue screens, but I was able to do
enough in between to be somewhat successful.
Lanya was there with support, as well, and both
of us appreciate that more than she can know.
Then there were a few moments of laughter with
the nurse who finally handed the reins over.
Still, I cannot always prevent the fall into
self-beratement which occurs. You may have failed
in some ways, hon, but that does not mean
that YOU are a failure. It simply means you
are human. I hate to leave you in the wee hours
feeling as you did and I just want even
more to BE there with you.

Tuesday, August 21 ~
Brief note. Tomorrow is surgery. I will be out
of commission for at least several days, but
will try to get on to start checking mail. Yahoo
finally came through during the wee hours
last night, but as the pager has stopped making
noises, I assume the box is over-flowing
now, or stuck again. Leaving this same message at forum.

Thursday, August 30 ~
I didn't listen to them, of course, thinking
"Hey! I've had four children. This surgery
can't be any worse." It was.

Now, one week and two post-op visits
later, I crawl out from under the blankets. The pain
is too fresh to be a memory yet, but mental
acuity and physical energy are beginning to return.
I am impatient to be allowed to return to this place.
For now, my body pays for even the slightest
physical activity, but with but one page of days
left, I must pay attention to its healing.

Sunday, September 9 ~
16 days

Monday, September 10 ~
Laughing, but my belly is flip-flopping and my heart
is definitely not beating normally. At 12:38
tonight, we will have only 300 more hours to wait!

A Tragedy

A special thanks to Hope for sharing the above page.

Thursday, October 25 ~
Why do those who profess to love me wish to
deny me the joy that is rightfully mine?
I've spent my life denying it to myself because I
did not wish to cause others pain or to
make them uncomfortable. I still wish there was
a way to avoid the grief I may
cause others, but I can no longer place their needs
or wishes before my own.

Lonely tonight ~ really lonely.

Tuesday, October 30 ~
I am exercising my perogative as a female.
I gave someone a chance today, but his actions
this afternoon again proved me right again. And someone
I know just might yell, "Get your hands
outta my cookie jar!" It is now my choice and I
have made it. As an aside, my heart goes out to
John Gray, who I believe has now been divorced two
or three times. Some track record for a relationship
expert, huh?

Speaking of cookies, please bear with me as
I figure out how to restore my main email account.
ZDr, sweetie?

Which reminds me ~ I owe someone a visit, don't I?
Dreamers

November 2 ~
And to my children ~
Yes, I need you too, but I will wait. He needs you
more right now. Perhaps someday you will
understand and forgive me. Maybe you won't. But there
is nothing I can do about that.

As for my problems with Yahoo ~ I received
a tutorial from them today on how to delete email.
Thanks, guys...as if I didn't know. As this will
probably be the only attempt from these morons
to correct my problem, I have begun the process
of forwarding all mail to another account and
will answer mail as soon as I complete the process.

To the one who owns ~ ty

November 6 ~
Happy Birthday, Nola!

Remembering ~ too ~

To one who has been frequenting here as of late,
demands destroy the spirit. The spirit determines
the soul of the man and of the woman. Work on
your own and never do anything that diminishes
that of another. If you disregard this, then the result
is to push the other away ~ the other runs
to get away.

The truth is out and the silence is deafening.

BTW, 4 letters to yahoo have not solved my problem,
therefore I have begun the fun task of transferring
everything to hotmail. To those of you who
have been patient, thank you. To those of you who
have not been ~ oh well. Sorry. Talk to Yahoo.

I wish to God that just one child would
tell me he or she understands.

Monday, November 12, 2 a.m. ~
I've just been sitting here thinking. I wrote here
this morning, but this puter will no longer
allow me to multitask and a fatal took me down before
I had a chance to save. I will make one more attempt
to contact my elusive offspring in re: the
puter he is supposed to be building for me. Oh ~ and
about his father's belated birthday gift. Somehow,
I cannot picture him following through with his
old yen to learn to play the guitar, but soon he
will have one ~ and no excuses. Perhaps taking
lessons will help him get through the rough time
ahead, but probably not.

The Yahoo mail situation has gotten worse,
if that is possible. I've had only one automated
response from them and I've written to them five
times now. It is obvious that someone has been in
there fiddling with it, but it remains in a state of
disrepair and I simply do not have the time or
desire to deal with the additional aggravation
right now.

It has been good to chat with my old friend,
Chris, again. I hope that what I have done will start
her on her own path to self-realization. She is
ready to walk it, but everyone needs a
push from time to time.

Sweet Rosie, thank you. Your words lifted
my spirit. Maybe I will give you the addresses of
my children:) Thank you also for coming back.
That meant everything in the world to me.
That imaginary path I've spoken of here will, in a few
short weeks, be very real. Smiling now ~
remembering ~ wishing to speak of the joy. I cannot
share with words here yet, but if you could
see me, you'd know.

Tuesday, November 13 ~
Watching yellow leaves fall. Memories settling at the
base of the tree to fade slowly and dissolve
into life-dust. Trunk with bare branches reaching tall
and proud into the sky. Not dormant at all, but
entering a new lifecycle.

Wednesday, November 14 ~
I woke up organized, I swear:) Wake up calls and
the path disappears for awhile and there is
almost skin.

I see the beginning of another path.
This one created by a friend whose brief treks may
wear a speed bump through the middle
of Thrill Hill.

P.S. in the P.M. ~
Don't forget that I do know who reads here.
There is one for whom I feel slightly sorry.
Another whose lunch I still smell. Christmas will
be good this year ~ to both of us. For once.
It's possible that may be all that will be allowed.
Right now, that is all that matters.
To both of us.

Yes, we wish for a future, but that is unknown.
I enter into this knowing that. I'm not going to
say that it doesn't scare me. But you have to
take what you can get from life.
It is, after all, the only one you have.

Who can say
Where the road goes
Where the day flows
~ only time
And who can say
If your love grows
as your heart chose
~ only time.

Who can say
Why your heart sighs
as your love flies
~ only time
And who can say
Why your heart cries
When your love lies
~only time

Who can say
when the roads meet
that love might be
in your heart
And who can say
when the day sleeps
if the night keeps
all your heart

Night keeps all your heart

Who can say
if your love grows
as your heart chose
~ only time
And who can say
where the road goes
where the day flows
~only time
Who knows ~only time
Who knows ~ only time

Enya...of course

November 16 ~
Sigh ~
A back to reality as it is for now day,
I guess. With a cumbersome weekend in front of us.

Sunday, November 18 ~
Closing my eyes to shut out the shrillness
of his April plans.

Held motionless by harsh words. Studying the grain
of the oak floor boards with sightless eyes.
If I see through her eyes, I do not feel
shame, but smug self-satisfaction. I see her
with a power she should no longer enjoy. That
power is not something she takes. It is something
she receives from your anger. If she holds you
in her hand, then she holds me too. I simply
want us to be free.

The simplest things whispered to me ~ a towel,
a hairblower, a fork, a glass, a bed, a chair,
a robe ~ And I refused to listen. Everyday
things used by ghosts. Knick knacks caught my eye
and I kept silent and absorbed them because they
are a part of all of it. I have my own,
after all. And they are part of it, too. Private thoughts
in private places and we are responsible for
our own choice to attach meaning or importance.
Acceptance of a life before and all that has
made us what we are.

And we will be ok.

Monday, November 19 ~
Smiling ~ glad I forgot to pack my toothbrush.

Wednesday, November 21 ~
Tomorrow will be this family's "Last Supper."
I will leave here soon. For my true home.
The one that has been awaiting me all my life.

I will give private thanks tomorrow. Private
because it still must remain so, but someday soon,
it will no longer be necessary.

2 a.m., Monday, November 26 ~
Another unbearably long weekend, but in 18 days
my journey home will begin. While others shop
for Christmas, I pack boxes for the UHaul. And
I will say good-bye to this place and
to my life here.

I will snatch Oreos from the mouth of the
cookie jar, make glow-in-the-dark barefoot prints
on the path, dance madly again in every
room and sleep under stars!

That reminds me ~ I will have to chop down
a tree for this page, won't I?

Tuesday, November 27 ~
Finally, an acknowledgement of reality from my former
partner and I can breathe. Now if I could find
my stuff under the ton of garbage in the basement.
So many things! What do I take? What do I leave?
What is fair? How fair do I need to be?
I always thought the Little Red Hen was a pretty
wise bird.
17 days ~

Bunny! Get back here! I miss you! I apologize
for missing messages from Chris and Draggie and Nola
for the past few days. But I can't get done all I
need to do if I am sitting here. Draggie, my
special thanks for sending me the following url:

Imagine a Woman

Wednesday, November 28 ~
Stomach churning this morning. I don't want a
birthday cake. Just want to get out of here.

Afternoon, November 28 ~
For those of you who were wondering if it is your
puter: "VoyForums is down for temporary maintainence.
We apologize for any inconvenience. Once the system
is back up, feel free to read through our News page
for recent announcements." At the same time, my msn
is down and my yahoo mail is still inaccessible.
Back to packing.

However, I was just informed that I have 34
new pieces of junk mail at msn...just one day and not
even. These spammers should be sued!

Monday, December 3 ~
Taking a few brief moments to recapture memories
from a half-century of life. I sort through
belongings and decide what to take and what to leave
behind. But I cannot do the same with memories. They
are inside me and are a part of who and
what I am. They represent the reason for my need
to do what I do now. Immediately shunned and
cut off by inlaws who not only will never understand,
but who will never allow themselves to understand.
I expected that, as I have watched them do
the same to others. Rallying around their own,
treating others with derision, never acknowledging
that one of their own could possibly be responsible.
That saddens me, but I cannot allow it to deter me.
I am not wrong in what I do. It is, perhaps,
the first time I have ever done something right for
me. I am angry that my husband spoke to Connor
about my departure. That was a typically selfish act
and something I should have been allowed to do
myself. So dear to my heart, this child.
Because he is a child still, my need to protect him
is strong. I wish I could hold him one more time
before I leave. Little Gabriel will be okay.
He is not yet old enough to be effected much.
But I will miss his sunshine very much!

Monday, Dec 10 ~
I see Tripod has done away with the pop ups & put
advertising on the page. Somehow I'm not surprised.
Sweetheart, get well soon. I will be there in just over
60 hours now, according to your calculations. You need
to take me feelthy and exhausted, ya know?

ok..ty, Tripod...I refresh and there's the pop up.

The truck will be loaded on Wednesday
and I fly out on Thursday at 6 a.m.

ZDr will meet me me in Baltimore.
I love you, sweetie. Thank you! And, ty Kandi for
letting me borrow him for an hour or so :)

Tuesday, December 11 ~
My life story in boxes.

Wednesday, January 2 ~
For my family & friends who have been wondering,
I am alive and well & grinning smugly at new
neighbors who laughed at this snowbird with a snowblower.
To y'all, I say, "HAH!"

Although I have several puters available here,
I am suffering from a certain amount of withdrawal.
I miss my own hard drive! (Such as it is). I hope
to be up and functioning soon.

btw, theft and threats of blackmail are criminal acts.

Friday morning, January 11 ~
Crickets in January. Listening to old tape mixes
as I unpack slowly. Mailbox keys. Lady bugs
basking in the sun. Afternoon sunlight caressing
a forehead. Dancing and laughing in the
aisles of Wally World, still searching for the
elusive microwave center. Struggling a bit to find
a happy medium between my normal fast pace and
the lazy, pleasant ambience of the South.

My children not only have accepted my
decision, but have indicated that they are not
really surprised at anything but that I
didn't leave sooner. I do miss them, but have great
faith that I will see them from time to time.
I only pray that the same will hold true
for the lion. Before it is too late.

Good news. Yahoo repaired my yahoo account today.

Rainy Saturday, January 12 ~
A trip to Huddle House for burgers at 5 a.m.;
cooks relaxing before the morning rush and the
server whose lower lip always seem to hang open
finishing side work so she can go home
to her family. Oversleeping and waking past
noon. Stuck at a snail's pace behind a potato
farmer. An introduction and faces to put to names
I've known for years. The little one with the
sparkle of the devil in her eyes as she
danced to the music in her head. I joined her
in that dance in my own fashion a short
while later ~ tasting joy. Plans for next weekend
to meet more members of my adopted family.
Again listening to the truth being hedged in
order to maintain another's comfort level
and wanting that to end.

Sunday, January 13 ~
Tired of puter probs always one after another.
I've had little time here as my computer
will not allow me to access my own pages
and files.

1 a.m., Thursday, January 17 ~
Too tired to write tonight, but I am ecstatic!
After a month, Tripod has finally
solved the problem and I am back on my own
puter. It's been a long day & I'm
headed to bed, but want to thank you all for
hanging in there with me. Most everyone who
reads here knows how upside my life has been
for over a year now. But I'm back,
almost settled into my new home and with
Tripod and Yahoo both finally solving their
(my) problems within almost the same time
frame, I may soon be able to get back
to what passes for normal here. Hope, consider
a bike:) Ron, get your behind back
home soon. Rosie, thanks, hon, for your support.
I miss my Bunny! Ted, the Lion wants
to know how Nola's are doing :). Penni,
my friend, that boy toy will soon appear,
I'm sure.And to my Lion, you know what this
girl wants to say.

Friday, January 18 ~
If you have dreams, try turning around and
looking ahead instead. Then do!

Saturday, January 19 ~
Amazing how some things never change. Like
waiting for others. Like spam. Both a tremendous
waste of my time. Trying to wade through 3 months
of the email Yahoo froze and the junk keeps
rolling right in. Growly.

For those of you who are wondering how
those with Conjestive Heart Failure live their lives,
I encourage you to visit Jon's Place
It is a very rough way to spend the rest
of one's life. In the "Loved Ones" section, there
is a question from a young lady
who asks if her mother's fear that she might
drop dead in the supermarket is a valid one.
Jon pulls no punches. The answer is a resounding
Yes!" Go read.

Friday, January 25, 12:30 p.m. ~
lol! Do I detect a little boredom, Hope?
Believe me, I'm trying! I cooked in my own
kitchen last night for the first time. I do
have a pic that the Lion cropped & scanned
for me, but I need to size it down before I
can upload it here. As you can imagine,
I've had to take great care about what I write
here. It ain't over until it's over, ya know?

Thursday was warm and gray ~ a perfect day
for an afternoon drive through the countryside.
Pastures dotted with white cattle, horses, goats ~
a circular bale of hay sitting near the road,
painted with a heart and cupid's arrow for
Valentine's Day. "This is where I taught my son
to drive." "This is where I hit the deer." "So &
so lives here." The farm. Allowing dreams to filter
in, even if only briefly.

Today, cooler with a ray of sun popping through
here & there. Pushing Michael high on the swing,
playing football on the slide, picking flowers
off Creeping Charlie, chasing crickets and Michael's
new ladybug friend looking for his daddy.
Sugarplum promises teasing Michael's eyes closed
for a nap and another "first" while he sleeps...

Rough night. Pain. Hot. Cold. Can't breathe.
Reliving the horror of a past life. Reassurances.

Saturday, January 26, 9:30 a.m. ~
I seem to be losing any sense of time. If it
is there at all, it is flying past me.
I find myself watching the clock more than ever.
A paranoia, of sorts, that I still am
unable to find time for me. No sense of accomplishment
accompanies me to bed at night. I need that. If
there is discord at all, it is because of
this. I wrestle to balance my needs with his.
Whimsey needs to be enjoyed as a break
from routine. It cannot be the routine.

But we will work it out :)

Monday, January 28, 2 a.m. ~
What shall I write about? Perhaps the imminent
death of an artist? Yes, I know you
know what is missing from the cupboard.
I knew you would. Sometimes, it is wiser
to pretend you don't.

Tuesday, January 29, 1 a.m.~
Glorious weather made up for the Dean of Computer's
early intrusion. The day was one of those
that is so long that morning memories appear vague.
In this case, it is a good thing. I have still
to accomplish anything at all, but business discussions,
clean sheets, and a now-hanging Cherokee emblem
helped more than he will know to dispel my
frustration. It is late now and this body has
seen more energetic moments. Perhaps there will
be time for me tomorrow. Perhaps. I've had
time to do nothing here at all. Personal matters
are weighing heavily as they accumulate.
Early evening saw one who loves his audience
sharing his music with a former business partner.
Potatoes peeled at 6 sat in the pot until
her departure. Another late supper and
conversations with Penni and Bun. A drop in BP
and hooked to O2 again and I cannot stay here
long.

Tuesday, January 29, 2:45 p.m. ~
Laughing. Not since you were thirteen, huh, Lion?

11:45 p.m. ~
Back to normal as lunch plans turn into dinner
plans. Bush's State-of-the-Union in the
background as I tiredly go through piles and piles
of receipts in my storage unit-never-to-be-done
"half." One of us has to know what day it is, hon.

A pleasant, but too brief stroll through
the nursery ~ shared dreams of shade-giving
trellises which belong in front of a house,
not a duplex, bring to each of us our own
thoughts and memories. Hopes too, for time to
regain what was lost and for time to share
what could be ours.

Midnight and I must return or the coach
will turn into the pumpkin.

Tarl, the younger, wondered briefly about the
slaves' stiff and sore muscles, but it really was
of little concern to him, now was it?

But perhaps he can read a girl's mind, afterall?

Thursday, January 31, 4:20 p.m. ~
Sitting here in shorts and tank top, enjoying
the light breeze coming in through the open
windows. Laughing as my daughter complains that
school was cancelled today because of sleet and
freezing rain. Flowers are already blooming here
in Smalltown.

Rainy night in Georgia ~ quiet and easy.
Wind chimes swaying noiselessly.

Memories to cherish ~ a perfect moonrise,
rapturously hugging a wall only to collapse
in a fit of giggles, the wonder on the
face of a man who has returned to him something
stolen so long ago, watching myself dance in
the mirror.

Friday, February 1, 9:30 a.m. ~
There is one who reads here who is filled
with anger and misery that I well understand,
for I have been there. She will not understand
that my pleas for honesty went unheeded.
No, the truth does not ease the pain, but
which is better? To live one's life based
on truth and reality? Or to live in a dreamworld
colored by the vagueness of lies? Truth forces
one to confront his or her own being.
It is the only way to live fully. She can
hope that what we have found will end,
but it will not. For it has been a rebirth
for us and we will spend the rest of
our lives discovering anew each day.

Smiling at eyechat ~
Courage? I suppose it was, but I prefer to
think I remembered my own Spirit and found
it important enough to set it free. The only
chains that hold me at all are those
of my practicality and sense of responsibility.
But keeping a foot on the ground (or at
least close to it)is necessary.

February 3, SuperBowl Sunday ~
As usual, I had to ask who's playing. The
game is not on our agenda. Rainy, cold,
dreary day. Making possible headway getting the
guys organized, but fitting it in between
dishes, laundry, pot roast, unpacking & straightening
my "storage unit" enough to make it habitable.
Growling at the dryer that ate my socks.

Monday, February 4, 10:20 p.m. ~
How did it get to be this time of day so
soon? God, I hate shopping! I return feeling
like I have wasted the entire day. A simple trip
which should take no more than an hour
takes 3. Nola, roll a few for me when you're in
Vegas. After discovering 3 more shredded items in
the dryer down the path, I hot-footed it to
the Smalltown Sears. That purchase was something I
was praying I wouldn't have to make. Again
a late supper and I am trying desperately to push
off the fullness which makes me want
to put my feet up. I have things to do.

I think I may have discovered why
Southerners are so pleasant & charming. They figure
if they can charm a smile out of you,
you will forget how slow they are. So far,
it's not working.

The wind has blown hard and cold all day.
There were, even in the midst of all this,
a couple of hours well-spent. Teacher and
student flying together blissfully.

I hold tightly to the practical side
of my nature. That can't be lost, for every
day cannot be Sunday.

After midnight ~
A minute to sit & catch my breath. It seems
so long ago that I had time to surf or
have fun here. I miss the Divas. Every day I think
I will be able to scrounge time to do
something for them or to do something new on
my site, but the time hasn't been available.
When I can take a breather, I am too weary to
think or move. Everyone reads at forum,
but entertaining without response is exhausting.
I've had little time for that either
and even the lion loses steam and asks "Why
bother?"

It is not enough to only think
about it today. In order to have tomorrow, one
must do something about it today. Otherwise, the fear
that grips your stomach when you awaken will
still be there tomorrow...and the next day...and
the next.

Wednesday, March 13 ~
You had me from hello, lion.

On this day, the three-month anniversary
of my arrival here, I give thanks. The Bradford Pear
blossoms ~ a Georgia snowstorm of exquisite beauty.
Everywhere I turn, there is Spring. And with it
comes hope and I feel a fierce determination that
tomorrow will be ~ if only because I want it.

Happy Birthday, Herb:) We will be along shortly.

Another hurdle to get over. Sudden, unexpected,
and we try not to panic. We will make the trip
again tomorrow as we did yesterday. Heart
catheterization is scheduled for Friday.
Where are you, Arden?

And where are you, Penni? I miss ya, sweetie,
and I'm worried.

Joe, sir, we are thrilled for you.

My Bunny ~ I know you'll take care of me.

Hope, I may actually get a new page
up soon. I "piddled" today, of all days. The
first time I've done so since I arrived
in Georgia. I wanted this morning to last forever.
I never know when I will feel the
melting for the last time and I don't want
to think about not having that.

Forgetting what day it is ~
Hospitals and motels will do that to you, I guess.
CIU, ICU, blockages, arteries, capillaries,
monitor beeping, allergists, cardiologists, open heart
surgery. But even so, hope does not leave me.
Nor can it leave you, lion.

Wednesday, May 22, 2002 ~
Has it really been so long since I was last here?
Dear mysticlady, you are so right! Sometimes life
does get in the way.

Health issues have grabbed center stage recently,
but while we wait for various doctors to confer,
we have been busy working on our new site at CajamNet.
Laf is almost done with his transfer. I have
been working on the new site and have not yet begun
my transfer. Thanks go to my son for his
help. We still have quite a bit of work ahead of
us before the new site is up & running, but it's
coming along.

Saturday, June 8 ~
I've decided my mother taught me to be too polite.
I need to learn to let phrases such as "lard butt"
roll off my tongue more easily. It might even
make me points with my little sister.

Sunday, June 9 ~
Yes, Voy has been down all day. There is nothing
we can do about it except wait. In the meantime,
we are working on updating and transfering pages. Unless
someone is experiencing yet another crisis,
in which case, of course, we will drop everything.
Why is it that some people seem to experience more
crises than others? We went to see a movie recently,
which at least one of us absolutely hated, however,
there was one bit of wisdom to be found in the
film massacre. An AA sponser yelled in frustration
at his charge. He said, "Your problem is not that you
are addicted to alcohol. It is that you are
addicted to chaos!" After awhile, your continuing crises,
your inabilty to face your problems head on and
to solve them by yourself ever cause the rest
of us to want to run in the opposite direction.
(My growl for the day) ~

My wonderful lion, this, "The Banquet Long Denied,"
has been waiting for its guest of honor to find
the courage to step through the door. It is
our feast. Savor each bite, as will I.
And this time, if you close your eyes
to sleep, when you again awaken, the table will
still be set with the finest of china
and silver and there will be new offerings to
taste and enjoy.

I raise my glass in a toast to you ~ to us ~
and you let me say the words.
Drink deeply, lion. Feel your fingers twine
around mine as they always do. We are...and, we are.
We will always and forevermore be.

Friday, June 21 ~
Happy Birthday, son. I love you so very much.

Almost 9 p.m. and my stomach is churning
after an unplanned confrontation. This time,
I was right, hon. The truth should have
been told long ago. Perhaps if it had been,
a friendship could have been salvaged.
Now it may be too late for both ~ the friendship
and the truth.

Monday, July 1 ~
Early to rise this morning. I finally gave in
and decided to start working from one of
the lion's puters. This one has given me 6 months
of hell and I can't take it anymore.
I managed to get more done on site yesterday than
I've been able to get done in months. I will
be thrilled when I can finally move to CajamNet
and get rid of these pop ups on Tripod.

ZDr, if you only knew how timely your
post was this morning.

Congrats to Bunnykins, manager-in-training.
Nola is having fun with her new toys:) One of
these days, I'm going to get Ted to post
himself, ya know?

Ann, I'm almost close enough to see what you're
having for lunch now.

One twin daughter is making wedding plans
and the other is due in a month and a half.
My son is seeing the cutest little thing:) Hi, Leigh!
My littlest angel still seems to not have forgiven
me. I pray that will change someday soon, as I
pray a son in San Francisco will come back
to his father.

Wednesday, July 3 ~
Early morning depression dissipates a bit as I
listen to the music here. The title of
this tune is "You Had Me From Hello."
He did ~ and he always will.

I think about my search for balance.
A quest renewed daily.
The need to visit all of the rooms in my
(our) "house." The physical, the emotional, the
intellectual, the spiritual. There is one other room
that needs visiting daily and that is the
practical. It seems that I wander this one
room alone. In a relationship, all rooms must be
visited together, otherwise, balance becomes
unattainable and joy is diminished. If I must
visit this room alone, then it becomes impossible
for me to ever leave it and close that
door behind me for awhile to explore with any
sense of freedom the other rooms.

The room of the practical is where
our burdens lie, but it is also the room
wherein solutions can be found. And, as
in all other rooms, actions must accompany
thoughts. If you come with me into this
room, then you ease my burdens, as well as your
own. This room is like a closet where
we open the door long enough to toss something
inside. If we continue to do that
without ever cleaning it out, what happens when
we are finally forced to open the door?

I had to be the first, of course,
to "steal" a new midi. You are listening to
"When I Fall in Love," sequenced by J. James.
Visit Laf's Library to discover what
our lion has been up to recently.

7:40 p.m., Friday, July 12 ~
How does it get this late so fast and how
can it possibly be it Friday again already?
Time has flown since I arrived here 7 months
ago tomorrow. Our lion was up half the night
sequencing midis for his Library. I crashed
in my chair after a late supper of
fabulous stuffed shells. God, he can cook!
Ayo parked himself in his usual spot ~
on my chest with his face tucked under my chin
until I couldn't breathe under his weight
and "asked" him to move. He obliged, then came
back as soon as I closed my eyes again. It
was already 6 when I woke up and climbed
beneath the covers. What once was only a dream
is now very real and the alarm sounded, as it
does on many mornings now, before I could
close my eyes.

The plans I made in the morning dissolved
by noon. I'd hoped to begin transferring things
from one storage unit to the other. The
weather was perfect for such an endeavor ~ cloudy
and cool. I do get tired of waiting. It frustrates
me and exhausts me. There are so many things
I thought would be done by now. Instead, I
surfed to find what I need for this site.
It is something that is necessary, but still, I hid
in it so as to stop thinking of the
things that continue to be put off.

This is what seems to fascinate kids on the net:

What Snack Food are YOU?
Click here to find out!

Congrats to Bunny's and Rosie's girls, who
managed 10 trophies at the fair as of yesterday.
Brian, it was good to chat with you.
Now go post!

I was struck by the comfortable feeling I
had working here at this puter today with the
lion working at his across the hall.
Yes, hon. I am home.

Thursday, July 18 ~
Not a "usual" morning. I woke up in my usual
spot (the chair) and hobbled to bed
around 5. I pulled something while lifting
yesterday and spasms kept me from getting
back to sleep quickly. When I woke up again
it was to the sound of a cheery voice and
a breakfast tray:) A serenade too, with a
new wee hour creation, exquisitely done.
Theme from Love Story
I can no longer pick a favorite, my lion.

One more trip and the move from one
storage unit to another will be complete.
This one will be done with the help
of our new neighbor across the street.
Happy Birthday, Nick!

wham 2001 from Alpharetta, welcome to the
world of Laf & Sage! An early morning chat
with Bunny made me smile ~ and Ryan,
your abilities are making me jealous now!
lol Nola, we're glad you liked "Harbor Lights."
It did turn out nicely, didn't it?

Rome burned while Nero fiddled.
Remember?

Sunday, July 21 ~
Kind and caring individuals also have their faults.
One of the most common of them is to
cross the fine line between caring and being
an enabler. What makes this such a dilemma
is that there is only one solution and that is
to stop enabling. An intelligent person knows
that doing this exhibits true caring, but it
doesn't make it any easier to do it.

Too often, the sin is not in what we do,
but in what we do not do.

Tuesday, August 13, 2002 ~
There can be no search for truth as long
as one is comfortable with lies.

Tuesday, October 1, 2002 ~ after midnight
So many things running through my mind ~
an anniversary celebrated, a new studio for one
daughter, a new house for another, a new baby
for yet another and a new job for my son. One
grandson begins 4th grade in a new school and
the other starts preschool. I never fully
unpacked here and am moving again ~
as we knew I would. Laura grinning and saying,
as she handed me the brochure for GWEN ~
Georgia Women Entrepreneurs, "This is you now.
You are. We are!" And ~ "Just between you
and me, you know, thees is why he does this..."
Don't ask me, lion, because I will not tell
you what she said:) Birthdays this week ~ my twins
and Arden, who by one act could make his father's
world almost perfect. I have been working on
updating these pages as time allows. They say,
"The more you do, the more you can do."
I think that is true, but we shall see.

Sleepless night for some reason. I got up
disgustedly at 3 and made a cup of cocoa, read the
Smalltown newspaper and flipped through the pages
of Vogue. Finally dead to the world
at 6:38. The alarm sounded for 20 minutes before
I could drag myself up to turn it off.
Busy day ahead with trips to our county office
for notary apps, then on to our office,
and if things work out, dinner at Frontera
and the mariachis. I see I missed Ty around 2
this morning, but I can no longer stay up that
late. Note to Nola ~ it would seem you have
made a decision? It was odd to hear that your
son recently said to my daughter that
he and I had never gotten along. I remember him
wanting to do something nice for me and trying
to clean out the basement. I remember watching
Monday Night Wrestling for him when he had to
leave before it was over. We got along
just fine until he called me at 11 p.m. the
night before a wedding I had to go to
to tell me he couldn't take his son in the
morning. He said he didn't want to
be responsible for him. That is sad, as is the
idea that one irresponsible person could drive
a wedge between so many good people.
Is that what you wish to let him do?

Monday, October 7, 9 a.m. ~
Stealing a few minutes before the rush. The mystery
odor is strong this morning. It has been
2 months since I first noticed it. It seems to be
coming from the southeast. I thought it
smelled like human feces. He says dead human. I've
never smelled a dead human, so I wouldn't know.
All I know is that it is a horrific scent.
It fills my nostrils and I smell it even when
it isn't there. I had nightmares last night.
I was chasing frantically after Gabriel who was
running down the middle of the street headed
toward traffic. He was laughing and thought I was
playing a game. I also remember trying to take
Connor's hand just because I wanted to touch
him ~ to hug him ~ and I couldn't reach him.
The twins were 28 last Friday. Arden's birthday
is Tuesday and we still don't hear anything.
Kate is almost as bad, but at least I
have my older daughters to keep me informed. Nate,
I know you get tired of looking. You reach
a point where you just don't want to anymore.
You just want it to be. Nola, I will try to
write later to explain. But now, because I
did not go shopping as I had planned yesterday,
I am forced to waste an hour trying to come up
with something exciting to wear to work. Yeeha!

Friday, October 11, 2002 ~
It is depressing to wake up to a message from Di
which says she is sorry to hear your
life is so bad. It makes me feel like no matter
what I do, I cannot make a difference and
it saps my energy. How others see you is
important to me. Complaints, depression, anger
tend to push people away. When you push them
away from you, you push them away
from me too.

We've had our first brush with autumn
here this past week. Greens are paling slowly
and muted yellows and oranges can be
seen here and there. But even as the season changes
slowly, thoughts of upcoming holidays give me the
same frantic feeling they always do ~
that there aren't enough hours in the day to
accomplish all for which I feel responsible.

I am, by nature, a quiet sort. The more
problems I experience, the more I withdraw and
the quieter I become. Yes, I can enjoy
brief respite from those problems. I can share a
laugh, enjoy a kiss, soar in the beauty of music.
But I will not experience those delights as
fully as I could if I am encumbered by problems
that do not get solved.

The practical matters of survival are the first
things on my to-do list. Only after I can
relax about those will I pay attention
to the other things on the list. Sometimes, physical
chores make me feel like a drudge. I put off
doing things I want to do because there are
dishes to do, a floor to clean, furniture to move,
bills to pay, a mess to clean up. Everywhere
I look, I see nothing but more work, more chores ~
something that has to be done. I feel guilty
if I steal time for me.

I have spent my entire life being "patient,"
waitng for others to do the things they should do.
I don't want to wait anymore. What
delays me delays those who wait for actions
from me as well. The longer someone has
to wait for something from me, the guiltier
I feel, so if a third party holds my actions
up,then I become angry and frustrated. Even now,
as things change once again, I am hesitant to have
faith in those changes. The only thing I have
faith in is that I will wait.

Thursday, October 16th, 2002 ~
Gret just messaged about her meeting with
Jon Bon Jovi. She has had this "thing"
about radio contests since she was a kid.
(Mom, would you call...please, please, please?????
You have to be over 18) "I was 4' away from him!,"
she said. She was also trying to locate her
bro in Rochester to ask if he was coming to
her housewarming party this weekend. (He is).
What I want to ask him is is he coming
to help me move furniture and where is my damned
computer?

I've considered using one of those blogger
sites for this, but hey! I was here first and
here I can do what I want...if loading the
file manager would stop getting me disconnected.
Did you really mean to dump my tcp/ip last night, hon:)???
For instance, if I ever can be here
long enough to actually begin Journal Cuatro,
I may change this so the latest
is the first thing you see, but sometimes you
reread old stuff when you have to come
in backwards and I'm an abc kinda gal, so we'll
see.

I'm probably a bit more concerned than
most of you about this wannabee sniper. My
brother and his wife live in Fredericksburg.
I waver between thinking the guy is just an
idiot loser and thinking it is
another Al Qaeda - sponsored game.

Friday, October 18, 2002 ~
Chilly morning. I woke the lion up early,
as he'd requested, so he could fax some
paperwork. It was really unnecessary. If I'd known
what needed to be faxed, I could have
done it and he could have slept. I got the heavy
blanket out and turned the heat on for the first
time this season, but only on his side. I want to
carve a pumpkin and hand out candy on Halloween:(
Gabriel's birthday is Monday and I will be
late with a gift. I haven't done well on
birthdays this year. I am still upset that
I missed Rosie's and Penni's. Some secretary I am.

The general election is approaching and I still
don't know as much about the candidates as
I would like. I voted in the primary,
but took Laf's recommendations and voted for the
same people he did. I figured I might as well,
as we both have the same political leanings.
He protested loudly when he discovered the Independent
candidates were not on the ballot. I do not care
for the Georgia system at all. In NYS, you
choose your party affiliation and the only candidates
you vote for in the primary are those
of that party. Down here, you can vote for either
Dumbocrats or Republicans in the primary. I can
use my disgust with a popular Democrat to vote
for his opponent, thereby causing the Democrat who
is least likely to win in the general
election to come out the winner in the primary,
clearing the way for a win for the Republican
candidate in the general election. In my opinion,
the purpose of a primary is to choose the better
or best candidate within one's own party.
The winner will go on to be your party's candidate
in the general election. If I am registered
as a Republican, then I should only be
able to vote for Republicans in the primary. If
I am a Democrat, I should only be able
to vote for Democrats. If I am registered as
a member of another party, then I don't
vote in the primary at all (unless there should
be a primary for my party). Here in
Georgia, you don't register as a member of any
party when you register to vote.
The only way that would make any sense at all
is if our elected representatives were not
required to be registered with any party.

sigh~
I've been here almost a year now and
really never moved in to this place enough to
make it mine. I am still surrounded
by boxes ~ both mine and the lion's. I will
give notice in 11 days. If that isn't a
pressing deadline, I don't know what is...
and I will make this move as we
also set up the office. I think I will search
out the Wildman. We need more muscle
than I have for the heavy stuff.

Uh oh. I see the utility company truck
down the hill. They must be ready to hook up
electricity for the new buildings ~ which
means they will turn our power off. I'd better
move. One more note before I go. We are
disturbed that one of "our own" has "lost" a
daughter, but one cannot be self-absorbed and
parent well. This has been coming and is
no surprise.

It made me smile when you described me
to Sarah this morning, hon. You almost sounded happy
~ geesh:)

Saturday, October 19, 2002 ~
Joy experienced in the wee hours did not carry me
through this day. Little things seemed to hit
me wrong all day and I can no longer blame that
on P.M.S. Thinking about creativity. Yes,
it is elusive and must be captured as it comes.
It seems that nowadays, I need let most of mine
fly past me unless it is in the arena
of creatively financing a roof over my head and
food on the table. Perhaps I could give
refresher courses in woman-speak.

I already did the roommate thing. Convenient.
Cold. Lonely.

I've also spent my life taking care of
others. I do not wish to stop, but I am tired of
taking care of me. Yes, I am my own person.
I always have been. Just as I have always
been the strong one. A new reader here
is beginning to question the value of feminist
theory, whether she wishes to believe so or not.
It is good to be a strong woman, but how
much better it is when she has a strong man
at her side. That is how it is supposed
to be.

The physical path will disappear shortly.
Of necessity? For convenience? Or will the path
continue to exist always? As a way to keep a
comfortable space where there is fear?

Sunday morning, October 20, 2002 ~
My mood persists. Remembering a conversation last
year at this time. Thoughts and words spoken.
I knew even then whose need was greater.
There never came to be the "you will
be there and I will be here and if we need
or want, then it shall be" that words
had described. Instead your heart spoke thoughts
you can only speak aloud in poetry.
Poetry for an ideal. And I will ask the
question I asked so long ago. Do we
sometimes use an ideal to protect us from real?
For it is not my fears, nor my
ideals, nor my past sins that will cause the
path to remain. Can there be true joy
while those things exist? I want to live
my life joyously. I want to feel it
fill my spirit. I want it to pump through my
veins as though it has a life of its
own. Not just once a day or three times a week.
To receive back what one gives ~ measure for
measure ~ that is joy. Like a transfusion back
and forth with no beginning and no ending.
Is it worth it to allow the fear of losing
what one has always wanted to keep
one from having it? Is it the performer's
desire, in the end, to be surrounded
by his fans or to have the one he held
dearest hold his hand?

Give me some credit for knowing
"kissing up" when I see it. You can't use a
bandaid when you need a tourniquet.
I suppose, however, that I could take comfort
in knowing I'm worth kissing up to.
Kissing up is acceptable, unless its sole
purpose is to side-step a problem so
the "kisser-upper" regains his or her
desired comfort level.

Everyone is capable of "hearing" the unspoken
words of another. Only a few have the capacity
to understand those unspoken words, for
the key to understanding is to care enough
to "become" the other person long enough.
Your success is directly related to the
percentage of "you" left behind when you
step into the shoes of another.

Wednesday, October 23, 2002 ~
Cloudy, cool & foggy morning. I feel like
vegging, but can't afford to waste the
time. I enjoyed my symbi's midnight serenade
last night before falling asleep wondering if
my feet would hang over the edge of the
bottom of a double bed.

In re: this weekend's dos attack on the
global computer network, it has been coming.
This is only the beginning, however. They
won't stop until they've disabled all 13 at
the same time. The open relay I
found in the Navy's dns server (and reported)
was my first real clue, although activity
has been high enough elsewhere to warrant all
paying heed.

A note to the stupid:
A massive weekend anti-war rally In Washington
could become a sniper's feast.

Would that it were as easy to love someone
as it is to love the idea of love.

The plight of the 419 (thousand) Nigerians
with dead relatives and millions to invest is by
now well known by anyone with an email
account. Some dimwit female here in Georgia
actually got sucked in by one of these swindlers
and I hear the Feds are going after Nigeria
to try to put a halt to it. I think you will
enjoy the saga of one yound man's attempt
to get to the bottom of it all. Thanks, Nate,
for sending me this:
The Story of Usman Abbas or one of the other 418

Saturday, November 9, 2002 ~
This neighborhood is going to the dogs. The two
black teenaged girls who moved in next to me
have been a constant source of irritation.
As I write this, although they have chairs
on their porch, they are both sitting on their behinds
at the edge of the road laughing and talking in
exaggerated tones so they will get noticed by
the troublemakers down the hill. One of the
girls will end up in trouble sooner rather
than later. She is wearing little blue panties
and has pulled her shorts down around
her knees as she sits. This isn't the first
time she has pulled a stunt like this.
What gets me is that a city cop lives directly
across the street from her. Shortly after
the girls moved in here, this one came out in a
skimpy little black dress and threw her skirt
up from behind to show her thonged cheeks to
the boys who were standing in the middle of the
street. I had a better view than they did
as her backside was facing the window where I
stood doing dishes. I think her parents
decided they would put her up in her own place
as they do not live there and show
up once every week or two. Some brave lady just
took on the job of resident manager.
The day after she was announced, all the
slobs, including these two girls, who were
parking their cars on the grass, moved them and
every car in the neighborhood was parked in
the driveway where it belonged. This is a
better-than-average Harry Arnold neighborhood,
though. The City of Monroe is waging a war
against him for "blight," as Eliot McLaughlin calls
it.

Speaking of the City of Monroe, I was
reading the Smalltown Police Blotter the other day
and noticed that a 19-year old Monroe
resident had been charged with murder and failure
to appear in court. Huh?

Nate's horoscope for today: A passionate
embrace from your past is just around the corner
for a long-delayed round two.

Female lizards enjoy the best of both worlds

I need to clarify something I said earlier ~
"To receive back what one gives ~ measure for
measure ~ that is joy." A relationship where one gives
in order to receive will never work. So many
think that if they give, it will make someone
love them. What that really does is
push the other away. What I am talking about
is something you carry with you. It is a
special kind of knowing ~ a secret between the
two of you that is no secret to anyone
who sees you or knows you. It is a constant ebb
and flow of thought, spirit, and emotion.
But even so, words are necessary. Don't ever
assume the other knows. Because if tomorrow
never comes, either you will have deep regrets
or the other will always wonder.

I received a gift today. A peaceful drive
over country roads. Amber and red leaves amidst
the ever green; dream-visions doing their best
to crowd out the uncertainty of the future.
Perfection tugging at our souls.

Thinking of my littlest angel tonight. I miss her.

On a different note, a crisis involving a plunger
is not a good diversionary tactic. I am not
the type to look for something in a
place I didn't lose it just because the
light is better there.

Sunday, November 10, 2002 ~
Over the years, I've spent very little time in chatrooms,
however, it has been my experience that any
"gentleman" who is interested in a particular female will
approach her by immediately asking if she is married.
This is man-speak for "are you free and interested
in pursuing any kind of relationship with me?"
If the woman is in a committed relationship,
she will answer with "Yes, I am married"
or "No, but I am in a committed relationship."
The man knows immediately that the woman
is saying she is unavailable. They discuss the
weather briefly and he moves on. If, instead,
the woman responds by saying, "Yes, I am
married, but..." or "I'm with someone, but...," the
gentleman knows she is giving him the green
light, or, at the very least, a yellow one.

If this woman's husband or partner was a
fly on the wall during either of these
conversations, how would each make him feel?

If he were to overhear the woman's first
reply, the husband/partner would be filled with
pride and self-confidence, perhaps even a
sense of relief, if he'd had cause to wonder
about his relationship with the woman.

If the woman takes it a step farther
and draws her mate into the conversation by
introducing him to the propositioning male,
she is giving her mate a very special gift.
She is saying, "This is the male I chose.
This is the male who deserves me because he
alone is capable of giving me all that I need
to survive and to fluorish."

And what if he were to hear the other
response? One word ~ "but...," ~ and his
image as a powerful male is in question.
As a rule, a male will react by eventually
divesting himself of the female who challenged,
denied, or denigrated his power in front of
the other male.

Now, what if the situation above is
reversed? If a woman overhears the same
conversation between her partner and a propositioning
female, is the reaction the same?

More on that one later.

Monday, November 11, 2002, 1:30 in the morning ~
Listening to crickets and thunder and gusts of wind.
The gentle gurgling of the table fountain
meshes easily with nature's rushes and rumblings
outside my window.

The rain comes in on the sudden wind roar,
then it is quiet. Gentle rain.

Monday, November 11, 2002 ~
Seems to me that some people are simply destined
to make the same mistakes over and over.
Got the deja vu blues tonight.

And the simple answer to the previous
question is "yes." I'm not up to an explanation
of the complex answer tonight.

Nineteen days left to accomplish what I could
not do in 11 months.

Sunday, November 24th, 2002 ~
Clear blue skies. The sun is warm, but the
cement path is cold on my bare feet ~
a reminder that winter is near.

One week from today and I will finally
be where I should be. I have had cause to
have misgivings during the past weeks.
I've felt a new and unwelcome need to announce
my movements from room to room. A need
to put space where there was no reason for it
before. A need to inure myself from
serenades meant to placate and protests and
explanations meant to derail. And I cry
myself to sleep. The lowest of lows ~
suddenly supplanted by the melting,
fingers which twine themselves around mine,
a smile of delight shining in your eyes.
The highest of highs.

Questions asked. Replies that do not answer
the questions. Replies perhaps meant to exalt, but
because they are not understood by those who
ask the questions, they instead serve to diminish
me in the eyes of others. Twice now. The emotions
of those who live in this society
as it is are real and predictable.
It is as it is. And sometimes, we have
to accept that. Change may come, perhaps in
our lifetime, or perhaps not. But in order
to deal with others, or to teach them, we
first have to understand and treat
them as they are, not as we wish them to
be. And before we can come to a complete
understanding of ourselves, we must be able
to understand others, for it is others who have shaped us.

You can carry with you hatred for someone
all your life, but that is a heavy burden
and a waste of time. How much better
to examine that person and understand the
cause and effect of the relationship. Not
to excuse or forgive, perhaps, but to understand
yourself.

I understand why my husband chose the woman
he did. I know what his needs were and where
they were born. I knew him better than
he knew himself. I would pray that he has
learned new things about himself,
but I fear his loneliness got the better of
him and that he will stop learning.
She will tell him what to do ~ and sadly,
that is part of what his need always
was.

That look...hands in the cookie jar.
Is this how I will live? Avoiding rooms and
conversations?

Only 6 days and I have no energy for
any of it.

Monday, November 25, 2002 ~
Wee hour conversations exhausted me and dozing
off on the john was enough to convince
me I needed more sleep. So now it is late
and I am panicky. This week must go
like clockwork. I hate that. For once in my life,
it would be nice to ease into a
holiday, but it won't be this one. It would be
most helpful if conversations with cousins
were limited to "Happy Thanksgiving." And that
message is for the one who asked me,
"Is this something I should have known?" The
past few weeks have been utter hell
for me. You reach a point in your life where
you must decide what is really important
and who is really important. That is what
my life has been about for the past
few years. It is why I am here and not there.
It was "the one thing I could not do."
Now it is almost 11. I am fighting nausea,
but it is time to wake the lion.

The only thing I want for Christmas is
something that all the money in the world can't
buy. What is the one thing you cannot do?

Tuesday, November 26, 2002 ~
Thank God for Wildman Barry who spent several
hours last night helping us with my move
to the lion's Poverty Heights hovel. He will
be back tonight to help with the rest
of the heavy stuff, then the rest of the move
is up to me. Although I can rest somewhat
easier about the timing of this move, it will take
far more than that to let me close my eyes
and rest.

Wednesday, Dec. 4, 2002 ~
6:15 p.m. ~ Thanks to the lion for rigging my
phone outside so the kids could call
to wish me a Happy Birthday yesterday. A
package from the girls, cards and a
big chocolate smooch were the high points of
a pretty rotten day. The kids are appalled
at what their father did to me. That he could
sign his name to a piece of paper with
such lies printed on it saddens me.

Friday, December 6, 2002, 3:30 p.m. ~
Hell week continues. I'm tripping over my own
2 feet in this place and frantic about
the boxes still on the porch. The bedroom is now
organized enough so I can cart 10 more boxes in
and fill up the available floor space.
We had so much time to make this move go
smoothly. That it didn't has caused me a
tremendous amount of work. Forget Christmas shopping
or cards or baking or any other holiday
activity. Instead, I think about a deadline
imposed upon me by one I would never
allow to be bad-mouthed. Look where that got
me. I'm sure his family has had a
ball with someone else to gossip about. If
they knew, that would stop. But I will
not say anything against their precious son.

Monday, December 9, 2002 ~
Today's necessary trip to Augusta for meds
will consume most of the day. I have no faith
in any amigos showing up soon to rearrange
the storage unit and I will have to try
to ignore this mess long enough to Christmas
shop with the holiday only 2 weeks away.
I hate that Christmas seems like nothing
but a chore to be gotten done. What I
have always wanted and never had is the
simple joy of having someone care enough
to take away the burden of being the one
responsible for Christmas.

Nola, we received your cheery Christmas card.
I needed that right now.

I watch Joe and Kandi's Christmas Toons come
into my email knowing they have put
me over quota. It is noon. The lion is
not well. We will not go to Augusta today
afterall.

Men and mothers ~
It seems that the majority of men spend
their lives either trying to find someone
just like her or someone exactly the
opposite.

Thursday, December 12, 2002 ~
Really frantic now. A bright spot created
by Bunny's possible visit after Christmas and
another by conserv's return to forum. I've
felt so guilty that I've been able
to spend so little time there.

I've always hated the human body's need
for sleep. It seems like such a waste of time
to me. If there is anything that irritates
me more than wasting time, I'm not sure what
it would be. If you think ahead properly,
then you should have plenty of time to enjoy
yourself without feeling like you should be
doing something else. I plan like crazy, but
if those plans involve other people, then I
usually find I've wasted my time even in
the planning of how my time needs to be spent.
If you are the type of person who is
casual about time, then keep in mind that what
that says about you is that you consider
yourself and your time more important than
anyone else's. If a driver motions to a
pedestrian to cross the street, then it would be
nice if the pedestrian would behave in
an appreciative manner by at least acting like
he or she is scooting a bit. But if
they meander and waddle slowly while you wait,
how many points do you think you
could get by running them over?

The first time we've been apart in
a year tomorrow to the day and I am suddenly
struck by the feeling of "home." To be
alone here in the hovel for the first time
and feeling like I belong ~ that I'm
not just visiting. That you have left me at
"home." That you will come "home."

I'm doubtful that the conversation went exactly
like this, but yes, Elizabeth, I do love.

Almost 10 a.m., Friday, December 13, 2002 ~
A rainy December morning, cool, but not unpleasant.
I was up until 5 a.m. too tired to
actually shop, so I just browsed and searched
and prayed for time. A year ago today,
I arrived in Georgia. I wish there was something
I could do to erase the suffering my departure
from NY caused, but there is not. The future
of a man who loved me for 30 years was
suddenly turned upside down. I loved him, too,
but could not be for him what he wanted.
There was a mental mutuality missing that I
could not live without. Nor could he. We
existed on two separate levels and what
each of us was looking for would never be
there between us. He may never understand
that rather than abandon him, I gave him the
chance to find something and someone with
whom he could have what he needed.

The handyman pulls into our drive and
goes to my old door. I feel somewhat violated.
The whole of the duplex is no longer
ours. I want a house, lion. Away from
civilization. A private monument to us with
holy spaces in which to give thanks for
what has been found.

Uh oh ~ I see a good amount of irritation coming.
The office computer is offline and the office is
no longer simply down the hall.

Have you ever had one of those "Huh?"
experiences? You know ~ one where she says that
he said that you said and your jaw
drops in awe that someone could have gotten
that out of a simple statement? I guess
it's like the game of gossip, which is a game
I would suggest you avoid if you
have a tendency to exaggerate or accuse.
You can always find trouble if you
go looking for it. You can also cause trouble
if you don't know the facts.

10 p.m., Monday, December 23 ~
We are finally back online after over a
week of cable modem problems. Of course,
it is now too late to complete online Christmas
orders. And who knows if we will stay
up and running? I feel a little better knowing
my daughter's gift to me has been
delayed too. At least it's not just me.

Merry Christmas ("you guys" for family and friends
who know best and to y'all for those who don't)
Teasing, lion...Here we are, feelthy and worn out
after 5 hours searching for one lousy box
in the storage unit...which we never found)

5 a.m. It IS true that Santa never sleeps.

Noon on the day after Christmas ~
Normally on this day, I would spend it in
relaxed mode. The house would still be clean
and shiny from holiday cleaning and any "picking
up" would be minor ~ scraps of ribbon
and gift wrap, toy pieces. Meals would be no
more than hauling yesterday's buffet
back to the table and we would munch as we
wanted throughout the day. The kids
would be in and out with friends as they checked
out each other's new toys and games.
It is different this year. With no children
around, it is a little too quiet. I am feeling
somewhat more relaxed, at least. I still have gifts that
have not yet arrived here, as well as
gifts to be sent late. There is
still much unpacking and arranging to do.
Important papers and bills to be found
in boxes where they were thrown for the move.
There is a sense of urgency that I
usually don't experience on this day. The
back-to-the-real-world feeling that the
day after Christmas usually absolves me from briefly
was with me immediately when I woke up.
Christmas Day was relaxed and pleasant. After
working on preparations until 7 a.m.,
(baking, wrapping gifts, making a stocking for Ayo,
and sneaking Christmas music onto forum :),
then collapsing into bed, I slept until noon.
Messaging back and forth with the kids,
phone calls, last minute baking for Christmas
platter gifts, grinning as I worked in the
kitchen and listened to the lion play with
his new toy in the office, visiting with his
family and returning too late to bother
with a formal Christmas dinner. He had a
good day and that was what was important
to me and what allowed me to enjoy the day
in my new home. Seeing the wonder
in his eyes as I explained my son's role in his
gift. The joy of being accepted by my
family as his has accepted and welcomed me.

A special note to those who are here
searching for midi music: Midis can be
found by scrolling down and
clicking on the icon for the music
of J. James that you will find there. Between
the two of us, we have a midi collection
of several thousand pieces of music. J is
currently working on expanding his library
of midis he has personally arranged. He is
a gifted musician and has the ability
to redo old midis (you know what I'm talking
about ~ the ones you found on the Net that
were some of your favorite songs, but sounded
horrible:) Visit his site and if you have a
special request, email him and he will
be more than happy to respond.

[Spammers] are the mutant spawn of a bizarre
reproductive act involving a telemarketer, Larry Flynt,
a tapeworm, and an executive of the Third Class
mail industry.
- Dave Barry

If there was a car speeding toward me,
would you run out and push me out of the way?
Or would you just stay put and yell?

My "to-do" list is longer than it has ever been.
Why is that?

Silence hides nothing. Words conceal.
- August Strindberg

Ask "too often" and you shall receive.
"I enjoyed being alone." And no...I did not ever
have that. I accepted that I wouldn't.
I never thought I would. There was too
much I understood.

Life doesn't always work out the way
we think it will or wish it would. How
we handle that realization defines our character.

We can blame. We can hide. But nothing changes reality.

"Lose this day loitering; t'will be the
same old story tomorrow, and the next day
more dilatory ... Each indecision brings
its own delays and days are lost lamenting o'er
lost days ... What you can do or think you can,
begin it--boldness has genius, power and
magic in it."
--Goethe

To attempt to motivate takes a gentle hand ~
and sometimes a good swift kick in the ass.
anon. :)

Stifled for now or no, hon, if you
cared what I thought, you'd be here. But you're
not. Wonder why. Not.

By the way, DARPA has removed the all-seeing
Masonic eye from it's TIA site. Interesting.
It was there.

"The Future is, of all things, the thing
least like eternity. It is the most completely
temporal part of time -- for the Past
is frozen and no longer flows, and the Present
is all lit up with eternal rays. ...
Hence nearly all vices are rooted in the Future.
Gratitude looks to the Past and love to
the Present; fear, avarice, lust and ambition look ahead.
...With the present ... there, and there alone,
all duty, all grace, all knowledge,
and all pleasure dwell." --C.S. Lewis

I believe the above is only partially true.
The present is enjoyed so much more if the future
contains shared goals.

That requires each to know the goals
of the other. It is not enough that only one
has goals. It is not enough that only
one understands the goals of the other.
The goals must meet someplace. And they
have to be acted upon in a pro-active manner.
By both ~ not just one. Like ~ a roof over one's head.

"Call on God, but row away from the rocks."
--Indian Proverb

Slang is a language that rolls
up its sleeves, spits on its hands, and
goes to work.
- Carl Sandburg

Tuesday, January 21, 2003 ~
10 a.m. Cloudy, windy and fairly mild morning.
I can no longer distinguish one day of
the week from another. They all the follow
the same pattern. There is a real world out
there someplace.

sigh ~ I suppose it's time to put
the coffee on. Will Rigoberto show for the trip
to Grayson? Who knows? Will Matias show
up after work as he promised? Who knows? I
detest waiting and piddling and floating. Doesn't
anyone in the South have any kind of schedule?

Saturday, February 1st, 2003 4:40 a.m. ~
Speaking of schedules, it seems I am back on mine.
It's been eons since I've been on at this time
of day. I should be in bed, but it is
soooo quiet. I opened the back door to grab a
soda a few minutes ago and it is "misting"
out there. The wind chimes are making music out
front. I was wondering how people in Florida
know Spring is here. I remember my father and I used
to have a contest of sorts to see who would spy
the first robin. Of course, that was in upstate NY
and it would be late March or more likely early
April. Down here in Georgia, I saw my first
robin 2 or 3 weeks ago. I made supper late tonight.
I was working on the business site and didn't want
to have to stop to make dinner. After spending
2 hours in the kitchen and eating a full meal,
I had no energy left to do much of
anything. I may/may not make the fettucini with
bacon and roasted red bell peppers tomorrow.
I've been working on that one all week it seems.
Dinnertime always comes too quickly and at an
inconvenient time for me. Plus, I bought a red
bell pepper rather than a jar of already roasted
peppers, so that meant making my own. The
first recipe I found said to bake for 50 minutes,
so I put it off for a night. Found one
tonight that said I could broil. It took 7 minutes
and the skin blackened and peeled off easily off
just like it was supposed to...but still, it
was 8 p.m. when I did that and I hadn't thawed
chicken. So I made hamburger steaks, mashed
taters and gravy and peas. One of the lion's favorites
meals ~ if he could eat it. He did not have a
good night. He collapsed and headed to bed
early. I stayed with him until he slept, dozing
off myself and coming to around 3:30. I wanted
to shop for Valentine's Day gifts for the kids
tomorrow, but it will depend on how he feels. I've
been working on something special for him for his
birthday, but it is out of my hands as to whether
or not it will come to pass. Thinking
about Sue and Saranac Lake where it was 22 below zero
yesterday.

It was after 8 when I finally did more
than doze. I had strange dreams that took
place in strange houses. My father was there
and I think I even saw my mom. Connor, Gabe
and Evie were there playing with children
I didn't know. I remember Aunt Ora was there
and she was yelling at me. This is very
odd. I was so young when I knew her that I
had forgotten about her. I turned on Fox
news when I got up as I always do. There was
a report that NASA had lowered its flag
to half-mast. There was only one explanation
that came to mind ~ the shuttle ~ with the Israeli
on it.

Sunday, February 2, 2003 ~
8:40 a.m. I've been itching to open windows.
IT would soooo very nice if it hits the
67 degrees promised. I am NOT turning on Fox this
morning. I'm not ready yet to listen
to another 24 hour Shuttle discussion. And btw,
Fox News needs to get rid of their
constant news "alerts." They abuse the term and
eventually, no one will pay attention. They could
also tone down their music. It's loud and
obnoxious. I heard a comment by Bill Clinton
yesterday which is probably the closest thing
to the truth I've ever heard from the man ~
that Trent Lott was just trying to make
an old man feel good on his birthday and that
the Republican party used Lott as a
scapegoat for past sins. This is an "is" that
really "is." Speaking of the Clintons, someone needs
to start getting the truth out now about
Hillary because Lieberman is going to choose her
as his running mate. I have not been into
forum yet today, however the lion was growling
last night. Evidently Voy managed to lose
all the posts again. I didn't get upset because
usually Laf can find a way to repair their
damage, but this time he couldn't. We'll have
to see what happens. However, he mentioned that
he noticed the latest updates at the
Voy site are from last fall. If this is the
case, we may have to start a search now
for a new venue ~ before Voy goes down as ITW did.
I have started work on Journal Four using
a new format. If tests go well, it should be up
and running within a few days...or in FIVE MINUTES,
whichever comes first. Have to scoot.
Client at 11:30. BTW, lion...MOVE the car!
The snowplow is coming!

This morning's paper reports that our landlord,
Harry Arnold, has requested a change of venue
for his trial. He says that Walton County
has deliberately tried to ruin his reputation
by painting him as a man without morals...as the
slumlord of the county. Well, I'm sorry,
Harry, but you did that to yourself. Last
January 2002, a month after I arrived here
knowing nothing about you, I was told by a
Sears sales rep that you were known as
just exactly that and that was well before
Eliot began his push in The Walton Tribune
about "blight" in the county.

February 19, 2003 ~
Nola, I'm not done yet, but I figured "whatthehey!?!?"
Here ya go ~ Journal Four

This beautiful arrangement of "I Love the Way You
Love Me"is used with permission from MIDI Composer,
J. James. If you would like to use this music,
please do not link, but save to your own
hard drive. He also requests that you place his
logo on the same page you use his
music and that you send him the url for the
page at J. James, as he enjoys seeing how others use
his music. If you would like to visit his Library for
more MIDI and Real Player selections,
clicking on his logo will take you there.
Mr. James will be happy to consider all requests
for arrangements of music that is special to you.
All rights are reserved to the original
artists and composers.

Body, Mind, Soul, Heart



Thank you

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