*IMPORTANT* It's time to archive Journal Four and go on to Journal Five, which you will find here. Please reset your bookmarks accordingly. Thanks!

Monday, March 21, 2005 ~
I see the folks from Tripod have been messing around again with their ad placement. I haven't fully recovered from the damage they originally did to this site. All the more reason for me to move the site. If human beings were actually part of the evolutionary process, then by all rights, I should be three people. Hubby has been home so much lately that I lose track of what day it is and I get nothing done. I always said that I worried I'd go nuts when he retired, but I may not be able put it off until then. Am I supposed to care that UConn lost? I think I missed Herb's birthday. Daniel turned 1 year old last week and we celebrated in Albany on Saturday. I escaped outside to play kickball with Gabe. You can tell Daniel has to cope with an older sister. He pounced on a toy that Aidan was playing with and grabbed it from him, then pounced on Aidan's head and grabbed his hair. Aidan sat back up and just grinned at him.

I'm feeling antsy and like I am rushing, as I always do when I know this time alone will end in a few minutes when Kate and Aidan return from yet again another weekend away.

I caught up with the last 3 months of discussion at Theos-Talk yesterday. There are changes taking place there and I don't think they even realize it. They have been swallowed up by the New Age movement that used their Blavatsky origins and they will have to make a decision soon whether to join the movement or to remain true to their roots. They are in the same position that Christians find themselves in and are fighting against. But the theosophists are leftists and as a group oppose everything Christians believe in.

I've added Cult News to the menu on the left. It may seem like a "news of the weird" website, but I would suggest that it could also be called a "news of the dangerous" site.

I've also added Javier Solana to the "watch" list. All news on the EU website is in .pdf format. So I have provided extra info links here , here , and here for your convenience.

I am hesitantly delighted to report that I may have been successful in my attempt to rid the Internet of a website which has been a magnet for pedophiles. I have been checking the site on a regular basis in order to determine if there was any chatter in regard to my efforts. The website has been completely down now for 48 hours (at least). I will not name the site as I would prefer to remain anonymous to the owner. Keeping my fingers crossed...

I lost cable shortly before noon. As this is the third time in 3 weeks, I decided to call to ask if there was an outage. No, there is no outage, the rep said. So, I was expecting a knock at the door when cable TV and Internet came back and the phone rings. Cable company. They did have an outage. The left hand does not know what the right is doing, as usual.

I was thrilled that we did not get the predicted new snow last night. It is sunny and gorgeous outside. It's melting!

"The day is not far distant when I will not understand a word my children say. As it is, I'm moderately fluent in kid-speak, but losing ground all the time...more from Mona Charen

Concerning Terry Shiavo, I agree that the federal government really has no voice. BUT, there is a suspicion held by many that there is something fishy going on with Michael Schiavo. Like Scott Peterson, he has not evoked the sympathy of the masses, and I believe it is his behavior that has brought this whole thing on. There is no signed living will and therein lies the problem. What do you think?

Comment here

Wednesday, March 16, 2005 ~
Skateboarders have made their appearance in the church parking lot and I was startled this morning by the sweet song of a bird loud enough to be heard through closed windows. No matter what weather is thrown at us now, I know Spring is here. Grandson Daniel, whose birth I just missed when I returned to Georgia to pack up last March, is a year old today. Time marches on.

As Microsoft repaired my mail two weeks ago, the virus in my eye returned to severely limit my time at the computer. Of necessity, I spent as much time in dark places as possible. Dark wasn't easy to find as sunlight on new snow seemed to sneak glaring and painful light into every nook and cranny in this old house. Dark is good sometimes and as I hid under blankets, I came to the conclusion that Glens Falls is in desperate need of a conservative publication. The Post-Star has gone too far to the left to be of any value. The managing editor should quit and run for office. That would be far more honest than his attempt to present his newspaper as "fair and balanced".

Monday, February 21, 2005 ~
I think I've mentioned that I detest long weekends, but I'll say it again. Thank you, New York State. Friday morning was spent at the toy store. Friday afternoon was spent cleaning for the party. A nap would have been great, but instead, I sat down and sipped a beer while waiting for party attendees. Heath, Kate's new friend, was first to arrive. It was his big introduction to my family night. Unfortunately, he had to leave so early that I don't know if he passed muster with the twins, but Kate was in a good mood at the end of the night, so I guess he did. I called my sis to wish her a Happy Birthday. She and Aidan share a birthday. Aidan was a year old. I won't tell how old my sister was. She's 9 years younger than me, but I'm not telling how old I am either. We had tacos. She had steaks on the grill in sunny Ft. Myers. Our house was full with both twin daughters and their spouses and 5 children. Connor's dad picked him up for a snowmobiling weekend. Connor was proudly sporting a patch on his jacket for passing his snowmobile safety test. The evening went smoothly. The older kids helped Aidan unwrap his presents and his mommy helped him blow out candles, after which he passed out and was carried off to bed. The girls and their families left and Kate took off to Heath's, at which point, Babboo passed out from sheer exhaustion in the recliner. I did absolutely not a thing Saturday - nothing, nada. More snow Sunday. We've received at least 18 inches since Groundhog Day. Lousy animal. This morning, Kate showed up at 8:30 when she was supposed to be working in Vermont. She was "sick." Uh huh. Two nights of being out all night will do that to you. I got out of the house for about half an hour when I went to CVS to buy make-up, which lately makes about as much sense as buying shaving cream. My big effort of the day, however, was to check a website which promotes pedophilia, which I've been trying to close down. Unfortunately, it was obvious that my first attempt brought no results, so I contacted the Family Research Council, then reported the site to The National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. Now I wait again to see if that brings any positive resonse. I ended the night doing a Zogby poll, most of which had to do with the Oscars, reality TV and if I would rule out a woman, a black, an Arab American, etc. for President. I'm not crazy about the idea of a female president, truthfully. I never watch the Academy Awards, rarely ever see movies, and never watch reality TV. They also wanted to know who I thought was the greatest male or female athletes (no clue) and if my spouse listened to me. Ummmm...no. I'm glad it's Tuesday.

Thursday, February 17, 2005 ~

Contrary to the AP report yesterday by Ali Akbar Dareini, the blast in Iran did not cause international jitters. Those "jitters" were nothing more than a knee-jerk reaction by Iranians who thought the U.S. would retaliate immediately for the handshake between Iran and Syria. This does little more than prove the propaganda issued by both countries about the United States.

So, repressed memories can convict a priest, but the possible victims of Wacko Jacko are accused of doing it for the money. And speaking of wackos, who in their right mind would pay $50K for a cloned cat?

Scary news of the day: I ended last evening involved in a discussion of the Delphi Method and Hegelian Dialetic, both used by those smart growth community planners who wish to control and manipulate independent thinkers in communities across the country. What do I wake up to? An article in today's newspaper which talks about a meeting at the Socrates Cafe where the "facilitator" asks, "What is the purpose of community?" Another member, the owner of the Glens Falls Gnosis Center on Ridge Street, said, "The central question for me to ask is, "What makes a desirable community?" Also a member, retired psychologist Steve Johnson, added his two cents, saying that the character of a city tends to suffer from independent-minded citizens who aren't always respectful of the law. "Maybe the people of Glens Falls are self-directed," he said. "They do what they want, and they go around the law if they want to." (Can you say "Agenda 21?")

Tuesday, February 15, 2005 ~
Babboo has been baby-sitting more frequently as of late. Daughter Kate is in love. I'm watching this one with interest as her friend actually owns a car AND a house. It wasn't too long ago that we used to tease daughter Gretchen. The first question we'd ask her when she met someone new was, "Does he have his own car?" For some reason, she was always a magnet for guys with no transportation. What makes Kate's new friend so interesting, however, is the fact that his mom moved into the neighborhood where I grew up when I was 11 or 12 and was responsible for destroying the relationship between my cousin and me. Small world.

We've had such odd weather this winter. We had heavy snow yesterday, followed by rain last night, and the forecast is for temps close to 50 today if the sun appears.

I find it very odd, indeed, that there has been no mention of the death of Sister Lucia in the mainstream media. She died February 13th at the age of 97. She was not allowed to speak to anyone and it is possible that the truth of the Third Secret of Fatima will never be made public knowledge. The consecration of Russia never occurred and the dilution of Christianity and of Catholicism continues from within and without as she said it would.

Monday, February 14, 2005 ~
My son moved out (again) early this morning. His room will be turned into a playroom for the grandkids.

So Oscar Awards host Chris Rock has called the show ridiculous and says he never watches it. Neither do I. Nor did I watch the Grammy Awards. And what's up with the guys on FOX News saying the public WANTS tabloid entertainment? Perhaps that's what is wrong with this country. Our public schools are churning out complete idiots who couldn't find Canada on a map, but who know every square inch of Neverland.

Friday, January 28, 2005 ~
Has anyone else noticed that liberals don't even know what to call themselves anymore? That a liberal by any other name, including "progressive," is nothing more than a socialist? That blue is the new color of socialism and communism?

For those of you who are tired of hearing the left call us the "far right," you may suggest to them that they are wrong and that we are simply right!

Sometimes I feel like I am trying to save the world and no one is listening. Today, in our local paper, a local columnist did a big article on Barbra Gilman's Indigo Child. I spent the day researching and found an overt connection to LightWorker According to them, of course, Lucifer is misunderstood. Gilman's organization is nothing more than a New Age Parenting MLM, with organizations like LightWorker near the top of the MLM totem pole. LightWorker founders supposedly channel what is known as "the Group" and are the ones who originated the "Indigo Child" and "Crystal Child" baloney. I wrote a letter to the columnist enlightening her. It will be interesting to see if I get a response. As 2012 is THE date for the New Agers, it is also interesting that Oprah says she wants to leave the show by 2011. Why? So she can prepare for the coming of the World Teacher?

I spent last night going through the older parts of this website, trying to fix the mess Tripod made with their ads. Still much to do. Kate treated me to a sub and a bottle of wine last night. But trying to change code and chat at the same time is difficult, so I didn't get much accomplished. I am also faced with clearing out this office so I can get my son in here to do some extra puter work before he leaves for good in a week or two.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005 ~
How can Barbara Boxer, or any Hillary Clinton buddy, accuse Condi Rice of being a liar?

Monday, January 24, 2005 ~
Those of us living up here in the North Country fared better than Boston during the (first) "Blizzard of 2005." It began at about 2" an hour, but "tapered off" to only about an inch per hour, leaving us with a foot of new snow. Son and hubby finally put our neighbor's new snowblower to work and I was the one left with the more taxing job of clearing the upper deck, where the heavy, wet snow on the roof fell.

A bill to test pupils' body mass index? I wonder what would happen if more moms started staying home and kids began playing outside (like we used to)? I read a bit at the Public Agenda website yesterday. The majority of parents say kids fare much better if Mom stays home, but the same people say kids need daycare to learn how to socialize? For me, this is a no-brainer. What would happen if 2 moms stayed home on the same street? Jeepers, if 3 moms in the same neighborhood stayed home, we might actually start a MOVEMENT! Kids could actually socialize with their neighbors. It wouldn't cost a thing and fewer children would be found in front of a TV with a bag of chips.

Linda Vester read an email that stated that the right is no more religious than they were 15 years ago - that the problem (for the Democrats) is that the secularism promoted by the anti-religious liberals has driven a wedge that may be too big for the Democrats to overcome. The individual who wrote that email is correct. It is not Bush and the Republicans who have caused the rift in this country. It is the liberals. They have caused a problem within their own party. Perhaps it is time for the Democrats to oust leading liberals/socialists/progressives. You are who you hang with, after all, and Democrats do not seem to understand that as long as they continue to embrace their liberal friends, the entire party will be viewed as too far to the left. It's similar to a parent with a decent child who starts hanging out with friends who are not a good influence. The decent child's reputation suffers. The parent's reputation suffers. The parent wants to "get rid" of the friends, but he knows his child will become rebellious if he tries to interfere. So too, the Democrats know that they will never regain power if they rid themselves of their liberal faction simply because of the number of liberals that camp within the Democratic party. They also know that the far left is destroying their party, so they are caught between a rock and a hard place. Democrats who are centrists cannot ethically move left. HOWEVER (and keep this mind) liberals can and will move slightly right if they think the move will gain them power. In other words, they will lie. Hillary Clinton is already making this move and the sad part is that there are enough sheeples in this country who will believe her - unless Dick Morris has his way, of course. The Republican party does not have all the answers. There IS poverty in this country and ignoring it does not make it go away. I agree that individuals must take responsibility for themselves, but there must be help for the poor It needs, however, to be handled on a state, county, and local basis. A couple of months ago, I was at a Stewarts convenience store just around the corner from my house. They had sandwiches and baked goods sitting on the counter next to the cash register. I asked the clerk what they do with the food at the end of the day. She said that they throw it away. For the love of Pete, there is a food kitchen 3 blocks away from them!

This takes the prize for the ultimate in laziness. I opened a Best Buy circular this afternoon to discover a $3200 refrigerator with a water filtration system on the left side and on the right? You guessed it! A TV! I asked my son if that was so guys wouldn't miss the last TD while running for a beer. He said, "Well, it had better have one on the inside, too. You DO have to open the door." Chuckling...

By the way, it was -28 degrees at 4 a.m. this morning.

Friday, January 21, 2005 ~
With no thanks whatsoever to Tripod support, I am back in.

I missed Bush's swearing in yesterday. Daughter Kate has been taking over my office and the TV. An entire day of FOX News in Washington, D.C. was a bit too much for her to bear. She switched the channel and watched ER. Bush was sworn in at 11:56 and by the time I tuned back in, he was addressing the nation. It would have surprised me greatly, however, if yesterday's events had followed the published schedule. I'm sure times were changed slightly to thwart any lurking terrorists.

I dozed off in the Lion's recliner last night, which is not unusual. The phone rang at 6 a.m. this morning and I ran downstairs for it. It was my daughter's boss wondering where she was. He mistakenly had her on his schedule and insisted I wake her up to see if she could help out. Beside the fact that he's male and wouldn't get it anyway, there are few women even, who would understand how long it takes her to shower. Because of the curls, she has to comb her hair out while showering. That task alone takes her half an hour. Needless to say, I was livid that he called here at 6. I had to wake her up and chance waking Aidan up as his crib is in her room. I've been sick all week and, frankly, I did not want him awake this early. Kate told Josh no, handed the phone back to me, and is now comfortably asleep. I, on the other hand, cannot go back to sleep. Hubby got up. He said, "Well, you could have let it go to the answering machine." I told him it was obvious that he'd never been a mother who had a kid who'd borrowed the family car overnight (Nate). But maybe it's just me. Because if I were Kate, I'd be on my way to work right now.

The other end of the day now. Already I'm noticing that it's staying light a few minutes longer each night. But with below zero temperatures and more snow on the way, it is of little comfort. The highpoint of my day was a letter from the Wildman. He is finally back where he belongs - with his wife and his two children. He says he has become more "spiritual" and has learned to be more patient. Patience has never been his strong suit and I am happy for him. He said he thinks of the Lion every day. He used to wear the Lion's workboots, but somehow, during the bad (or possibly beneficial) times of the past year, he lost them. I will send him a different momento - one I told him I'd hang on to for him until the right time. Now is the right time.

Thursday, January 20, 2005 ~
After two weeks of adware problems effecting my computer, I now am unable to get into Tripod File Manager. I am in here through a back door, which I hate using. Tripod support is not being particularly helpful and I have been back and forth with them since last Friday. There has been no personal support at all - just automated responses to keywaords in the 5 emails I've written to them already. I say "I have NO problem logging in." Their response is "if you are having problems logging in, blah...blah...blah." Sigh~

Thursday, December 30, 2004 ~

Thanks to a clearly written tutorial at pannsplace, I was able to do something I've wanted to do for a long time. Make a snowglobe. I'd wanted to make a special one for the Lion before he died, but had a hard time trying to focus my attention on the various tutorials available. I even asked a friend to make one for me, and although she tried, it just wasn't what I wanted. What you see here is my first globe using the files provided in the tutorial. I have a lot to learn, but it's a start. Yay!

Saturday, December 18, 2004 ~
Commercials for the law offices of personal injury attorneys have become comedic since the re-election of Bush. Our television screens show close-ups of the faces of compassionate and empathetic lawyers whose eyes are brimming with crocodile tears as they deny condoning frivalous lawsuits. On a similar note, it is ironic that it was cancer that took Laf's life. Diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure in 2000, his doctors had him on Doxepin, Vioxx, and Celebrex for the next 3 years. I guarantee you that if cancer hadn't been a factor, we would now be engaged in lawsuits against the makers of all 3 medications and the doctors who prescribed them.

Friday, December 17, 2004
The reason other countries hate America is because after having been secularized, socialized, and feminized, they've lost their b**** and are, therefore, suffering from a major case of p****-envy. Am I being clear enough on this? I don't usually write stuff like this, but these people are just wrong. Has anyone considered the idea that America is simply the only country that is right?

It isn't being reported on the Amber Code Alert scroll above, but there has been one issued - for a "missing fetus". This story coming out of Missouri is so unbelievably sick. Who would strangle a mother about ready to give birth and rip her baby from her stomach?

Daughter Kate is delighted with the news of a possible major snow event on Monday. Not me. I told her I'd remind her how excited she was when I send her out to shovel 3 feet of snow. We had a dusting last night, but the sun is out and the snow is melting. That suits me just fine. The last time I wanted it to snow for Christmas was in 1973. I was in Connecticut. It didn't snow. I think I actually cried listening to "White Christmas."

Congressman Weldon goes public with Iranian terrorist plot against America. And no one was listening to him for 4 years because?

Tuesday, November 3, 2004 ~
It always amazes me when I come in here and realize how long it's been since I've posted. It seems there are just not enough hours in a day. I watched the sun come up this morning. The house was busy at 5 a.m. I woke up in the Lion's chair to doors banging, cats chasing each other, heavy footsteps up and down the stairs and the second floor hallway. It was still dark and I was confused about the time and who could be making all the noise. It turned out that one family member was just coming in as another was leaving.

If anyone who reads here is undecided on the medical marijuana issue, I would urge you to support it and here is a very important reason why. The bill's opponents say that if THC can be produced in pill form, there is no reason for people to grow their own. It is not that simple. After Laf was diagnosed with lung cancer, his hematologist got him a prescription for Marinol. I believe it was a free for one time only prescription from the company that makes the pill. I cannot even begin to describe to you how beneficial to the Lion's quality of life Marinol was. He lived in a constant state of being nauseated. The Marinol dispelled the nausea, allowing him to eat a little, as well as enabling him to do something as simple as watch a TV program without feeling like he was going to throw up. But there was a problem. Medicaid will not cover Marinol and because of this, he was denied its continued benefits. Marinol is very expensive and he simply could not afford it. Compare this to the cost of buying a bag and some rolling papers or to procuring some seeds, buying a gro-light, and growing your own. Believe me, anyone who is as ill as the Lion was does not have any interest or the needed energy to start up a business selling dope. I would also add that someone who is diagnosed with lung cancer, in particular, can also receive an added benefit from the simple enjoyment derived from smoking - whether a joint or a cigarette. After all, we are talking about quality of life during terminal cancer in Laf's case. There is no point in adding stress to a dying man's life. When I remember the antagonism between the Lion and the various nursing staff members of all the hospitals over his desire to smoke a cigarette and the hours I spent just bundling him up so I could take him outside the building. If there had just been some room he could have gone to inside the building, I could have added hours filled with less stress and so much more enjoyment to his final days. I was grateful to the one little nurse who broke the rules, pushed his hospital bed up to an open window and brought in a fan. She sat with him when I couldn't be there and he smoked away as he entertained her with his stories. God bless her!

I became so angry listening to John Walters on Fox & Friends today, that I sat down and wrote an email to the show. The Director of National Drug Control Policy, in reference to E.D.'s comment that patients who use medicinal marijuana feel better, said "Well, I'm sure that those people DO feel better. Just like those who smoke crack feel better." What an arrogant, ignorant a**! The head of a national agency, no less. Then, he proceeded to make it worse by suggesting that citizens do, after all, have access to prescriptions for medicine containing THC. If they are on Medicaid, they certainly do NOT have access, as it is not on the approved list of drugs paid for by Medicaid.

Wednesday, November 3, 2004 ~
God, I'm tired. Waiting - just like you. Disappointed that no one posted at forum. Might as well be talking to myself. Spent my evening posting at other voy forums instead.

Soros is behind voter registration fraud all across America. The Washington Times reported last week that Soros-funded "America Votes" is under investigation for "possible widespread fraud." Read columnist Jerry Seper's article. "America Votes" is an arm of "Voters Outreach of America."

The newest al qaeda tape is here: Vote for Kerry, or we will destroy you! Didn't I mention this blackmail before? The only thing America can do is vote Bush. It is the only way to send a message to the terrorist organizations that they do not have power over us!

From The Whiners' Corner, Fonda joins lawsuit filed against a parody website listing traitors of America. Oh, waaaa. If the shoe fits... We've all known for a long time that Hillary wants the Internet controlled so Americans will not be able to freely discuss her and her socialist friends. Hillary's influence is right up there with her supporter, George Soros. I had a thought last night while reading comments about John Podesta, former White House X-Files fanatic. I wonder if it ever occurred to him that Roswell occurred the same year Hillary was "born." (hehe) I will guarandamnteeya that Hillary & Co. have their dirty hands in the anti-Bush campaign as well. Soros's people are some of her biggest campaign contributors.

U.S. Rep. Bob Ney, R-Ohio, has guaranteed hearings on voter fraud and the actions of Soros's organizations moveon.org and ACT.

Visit Sean's blog: Everything I Know Is Wrong

The last time I watched an eclipse, I was sitting in the truck in the parking lot of Athens Regional Hospital in Georgia. I watched for awhile, then went to the nurses' station to see if they would allow me to wheel the Lion across the hall so he could watch out of their windows. They helped me get his wheelchair and IV pole into the room and we sat together and watched. It wasn't long before he was entertaining the staff with the stories he could tell so well. I miss you, Lion.

I am not happy that a 2-hour birthday dinner has now turned into 8 hours of driving, 2 nights in Connecticut, and 3 days out-of-town. Hubby says he wants to go to "relax." That is the last thing I will be able to do. I'd rather not be able to relax here.

Sunday, October 24, 2004 ~
Even as the Managing Editor of The Post-Star and I exchanged polite pleasantries last week, I'd seen the paper begin to slant toward Kerry. Their endorsement for the senator came out in today's paper with a full page ad. I am bothered by the vague reasons they gave for their endorsement. When individuals are vague, they show their ignorance, both of the larger view and of the details. The endorsement was rife with inaccuracies. I accused O'Reilly's staff of shallow research and I will accuse The Post-Star editorial staff of the same. Kerry says he will not sign away our security to other nations, but neglects to mention that even the Kyoto Protocol would begin the process of global rule over our country. As a globalist, he believes in the sovereignty of the One World over its nation-states. It is not the Patriot Act which we need fear. It is the Patriot Act in the hands of people like Kerry, Soros, and the Clintons that should scare you to death. This, above all, is Big Brother Kerry's wish - that his One World will have the means to control all. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Friday, October 22, 2004~
Would a merciful God allow Bill to be Secretary General and Hillary to be president at the same time?

My local paper is usually pretty balanced, but in the past week, they've interviewed a female black activist who spoke recently in Saratoga. She said please not to mention the Founding Fathers because they were the ones responsible for the problems of blacks. I would like to mention to her that it was because of their genius that we passed the Civil Rights Act. My newspaper also printed, in conjunction with this interview, a huge photo of 3 white teens back in the sixties who were holding signs saying they didn't want black kids in their schools. This is race-baiting by the Democrats. The answer to why race-baiting works is something everyone knows, including black leaders, but no one will come out and say it. The day following this article, there was a huge photo on the front of the paper that showed a black elementary school child voting for Kerry in a mock election. The reason there are twice as many blacks supporting a Republican in this race is simply that the more educated they become on the issues and the more involved they become, the bigger the chance they are going to split on issues - just like the rest of the population.

Why is it that I can hear Tony Blair whispering to the terrorists, "Wait to see who wins the U.S. Presidential election?" Hassan will probably be allowed to live if Bush loses. If he wins, they will kill her. Interesting how they have us over a barrel, isn't it? This election comes at an opportune moment for them and that is precisely what they wanted and why I say that unless Bush pulls way ahead in the next week, nothing will happen on our home soil. If Bush wins, as he should, they will blow something up just to make the statement that we "should" have voted for Kerry. Why? Because they can manipulate John Kerry, just as they are manipulating half of the Americans now.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004 ~
I got the flu once. Back in '79. It was a lousy enough experience for me to remember the year. But I've never gotten a flu shot. Laf used to say, "Every time they gave me a flu shot, it worked. I got the flu." Talk about the Kerry politics of fear. The only reason it is perceived as a shortage is because in recent years doctors have been trying to get more of us to get a shot. So, the supply has been increased to back up their efforts. In truth, it is only a shortage based on those efforts. Even FOX News is playing into the fear, where their sensationalism and constant harping gets our emotions spinning out of control.

My letter to the editor appeared in yesterday's paper. Sure enough, by afternoon, a wacko Kerry supporter got my number and called to speak to me. He refused to give my son his name and as a result, my son refused to allow him to talk to me. As has been the norm for this election year, the caller was only FOR Kerry because he wanted Bush out. The indoctrination of Americans by the liberals and socialists in this country is unfortunately working. There is a new book out called "The Freefall of the American University," by Jim Nelson Black. It is on Sage's Required Reading Booklist. Watch for it at your local library.

On another note, it is utterly ridiculous that the Muslim community in this country requested a list of Islamic charities they could give to without being put on a watchlist. As if the feds have nothing better to do with their time. I would tell the Muslims to give to their local food pantry. I would tell ANY group or individual the same thing. Stop looking for charities to give all your "extra" income to and feed your neighbor. Help your neighbor with his medical bills. Purchase a winter coat for a child in your own community. One year I had an extra turkey. It was given out by an employer, I think. I called the elementary school and asked if they could give me the name of a family who might not have the resources to enjoy a Thanksgiving meal. They came through with a name. I did a little shopping and added some extras. A young mother came to my door and walked out gratefully with fixings for her family meal. If everyone did the same - took care of their own families and communities, we wouldn't have the huge federal bureaucracy we have now.

Teresa shot her mouth off again. Must have been off her meds. John Soros Kerry and Teresa the Twit, both shady-character pompous a**es as "statesmen" in our White House who consider themselves above "the common man?" Teresa was half-right when she said she didn't want to be first lady. She would have been totally right if she'd said she shouldn't be first lady. She doesn't have the class required for the job, just like her husband and Edwards and his wife, who use the personal family matters of their opponents for self-serving proseltyzing, then attempt to deflect criticism with outright lies.

Monday, October 18, 2004 ~
I guarantee you that these troops refusing to obey orders is a Democratic dirty trick. Someone over there was told to disobey orders because it would cause problems over here for Bush.

Although Florida is a special case this year, I don't think I agree with the early voting in general. As I write this, busloads of activists are pulling up near the polling places. I foresee voting result leaks and lawsuits to follow that, as well. I always considered election day as a sort of holiday from spin and dirty tricks - a quiet day of contemplation and of doing one's civic duty. It's a four-block walk to my polling place and I go alone, choosing a time of day when the line will be short. It disturbs me greatly that so many who vote are so ignorant that they couldn't even answer the questions asked in a Zogby poll.

By the way, it was no surprise to me when I plunked keywords "george soros lucis" into Google and discovered the financial hand of Soros enmeshed in the United Religions Initiative of Lucis Trust and the United Nations. Read here, if you are interested in understanding Soros's support of one world/one religion and The World Teacher/Maitreya. In other words, Soros supports Kerry and an antichrist.

As I've mentioned recently, I've just finished "My Ishmael" and am now in the middle of "The DaVinci Code." The tribal philosophy behind "My Ishmael" is very close to my political leanings. As far as Dan Brown goes, even if his ideas were correct, I wouldn't have a big problem with it. It really wouldn't change any of my Christian beliefs or my belief in the divinity of Christ, as my beliefs in the equality of male and female have to do with equal value, but different jobs in the scheme of a balanced life and balanced world. I will opine more after I finish the book.

Here, the Maitreya (a.k.a. the Christ) even personally endorses George Soros (through Benjamin Creme, of course). And why wouldn't he when Soros is funding him and probably paying for Maitreya's London residence, as well as Creme's jaunts around the globe? HereMaitreya Jesus actually goes a step further and says (lmao) that Gore really won the election! (as of 01/28/05, this page is "for some reason" missing.
To quote Jesus (through Creme): "Q. The recent US presidential election, fraught with controversy and legal challenges, resulted in victory for the conservative Republican Party candidate, George W. Bush, with some military leaders now in seats of power. These leaders represent ideas very contrary to Maitreya's priorities, so many of us are concerned about this turn of events. Can you comment on the significance of this? Is this a major set-back for Maitreya's mission, or is there possibly an unseen reason for this change, which may indeed be part of the Plan? A. It is certainly not part of the Plan; Mr Gore actually 'won' the election. Nor do I think that it is a set-back for Maitreya's mission. The American people (the small percentage who voted) actually voted for Mr Gore and continuation of the policies of the Clinton administration. If Mr Bush and his advisers plan an increase of US military strength (which is likely) it will undoubtedly upset the present balance of power. This, I believe, would bring Maitreya more quickly into the open, whatever the state of the (already shaky) stock markets. Q. I am most concerned about George W. Bush's totally backward attitude toward foreign policy. He says America should not become involved in the affairs of other parts of the world unless they interfere with American interests. I fear the effect the Bush administration would have on world affairs. How will Bush's election affect the US response to Maitreya's public emergence, when it occurs? A. I do not think that the response to Maitreya's emergence will be very much affected. The loser won and the winner lost the election but the result was close and only a small percentage of people actually voted. However, I believe that the Bush 'victory' does increase the tension in world affairs, particularly if the new administration proceeds with the $60 billion anti-missile defence system. That would frighten and anger both Russia and China who are reluctant to engage in another arms race. For that reason alone I think the Bush success will have the effect of making the emergence of Maitreya sooner rather than later."

Soros even has "the Christ" in his pocket. If anything dramatic happens before the election, it will be caused by "George the Joke" having completely lost his marbles.

Sunday, October 17, 2004 ~
Kofi Annan says the war in Iraq was "illegal." According to what court of justice? Ambassador Ginsberg calls him an agent of the Security Council as Kofi berates the Bush administration and says "we have a lot of work to do." Is it "hard" work, Mr. Annan?

Kerry and Edwards are being disengenuous when they give the reasons for their words concerning Mary Cheney. First, Dick Cheney mentioned his daughter originally only because he knew he and his family would have to face negative publicity from the liberals. As any parent in a similar situation would do, he brought her up knowing her sexual preference had already been made public. He hoped to deflect pain from his family. That was the ONLY reason he brought it up and as her father, it was his right. It is no one else's. When Edwards was crass enough to bring it up in an unnecessarily personal manner in the debate, I could not believe that no one commented on it. Cheney replied with class and grace. When Kerry brought it up again in the 3rd debate, it because crystal clear that it had been part of a plan to make Kerry and Edwards appear to be compassionate.

As far as charges that Bush wants to privatize social security, that is patently false. What Bush understands is that whereas there may be reason to have some sort of a social safety net, social security as we now know it must go.

Back in February, conservative analysts predicted an "October Surprise" which would be caused by George Soros, who detests Bush. They considered the possibility that the stock market would collapse as a result of his actions. My favorite version of an "October Surprise" would be to wake up and have the following headline blare at me from the front of my local paper - "SOROS INDICTED ON CHARGES OF TREASON!" When you stop and think about it, Kerry is not so much a great debator as he is a good memorizer. He is, after all, the mouthpiece for George Soros and nothing more. Most of what Kerry covers in his speeches are direct and indirect Soros quotes.

The American people should file a lawsuit against the United Nations, against France, Russia, China, and Syria asking for reparations for the lives of each soldier lost and repayment of all monies spent on the war in Iraq.

Saturday, October 16, 2004 ~
You do realize, of course, that the very same people who are on the rant against public funding of renovation of the missions are the very same people who would have been outraged if the Imam Ali mosque had sustained major damage and who would demand that American tax payers pay for that damage.

My prayers are with Hope, who was told that she'd had a silent heart attack. I'm waiting to hear how bad the damage is and what the prognosis is. Also in my prayers is Laf's nephew, Tony, who is in Iraq. Nereyda is beside herself with worry, but she is a strong woman.

Although I disagree with the biggest purpose of our educational system (which is to keep our youth off the streets and out of the job market), the lies of snake oil salesmen like Kerry and Edwards actually make a case for education. Both Bill Frist and Charles Krauthammer are doctors. Krauthammer, himself, suffered a spinal cord injury. They point out the false hope that the lies about stem cell research propogated by the liberals and the DNC and their candidates are self-serving and that they give many Americans false hope. 22 Lines already exist and are available for anyone who wishes to use them for research. It is obvious that the DNC counts on the uneducated public for its support.

Friday, October 15, 2004 ~
I like the ad I saw on the home page of the National Review that says something like "Imagine if the United States adopted Canada's healthcare system, then going to the doctor would be like going to the DMV."

I've noticed Tripod has been flooding the top of this page with pro-Kerry ads. I wonder if this is Tripod's policy - to place Kerry advertising on all obviously anti-Kerry websites such as mine? On second thought, it may be computer-generated by the number of times I've mentioned Kerry's name here, so from now on I will use "liberal candidate" or some such to refer to him. And type "Bush" 100 times. (Bush, Bush, Bush, Bush, Bush, Bush, Bush).

Thursday, October 14, 2004 ~
It amazes me that people keep asking why the price of oil is so high. It really is very simple. The United States is being punished for attempting to create a democracy in Iraq. Not only will the terrorists and corrupt foreign countries not be able to use Iraq as a thoroughfare for illegal arms and WMDs, but if Iraq succeeds as a democracy, there will be a buffer zone between Israel and the majority of the Muslims who have declared Jews as their mortal enemies. If the U.S was able to beat off the radical activists who have kept us from drilling in Alaska, you'd see the price of oil decline to record lows. Of course, you'd also see terrorists immediately taking up residence in Alaska where they could blow up the pipelines as they do in Iraq.

Leave it to the liberals to spin the outrage over both Kerry's and Edwards' comments about Cheney's daughter. The Liberal Democrats once again prove they have absolutely no class, no character, and no concern for human beings. Cheney treated Edwards' comments with class and dignity. Both Edwards and Kerry used Cheney's daughter as a political ploy to make themselves appear to be compassionate. How very pathetic and self-serving! This re-emphasizes my point that whereas conservatives have much more class and find it difficult and uncomfortable to bad-mouth people in general, the Dems and Libs will always find a new low to which they can stoop.

Dick Morris' comments on O'Reilly tonight backed up what I said in forum last week or the week before - that bin Laden (or whoever is now in charge) will determine who will be president for the next four years. I wish Morris had been clearer, however. You may recall that I said there will be no attacks on our soil prior to the election. This almost guarantees that Kerry will be elected and that the CEO of the terrorist organizations has ALREADY determined the outcome. He considers the American people to be stupid and he is, unfortunately half-right. The only thing that will pull Bush up is more outrageous gaffes by the liberal Democrats, although the one in re: Mary Cheney should be big enough. The Democrats will never wake up enough to understand why the terrorists want Bush out. If they DO understand it, then I would accuse them of being in bed with bin Laden, which is possible as anything is possible nowadays. Just think - the Dems set up a deal with the Saudis - make sure Bush loses, environmentalist Kerry wins, there will be no drilling in Alaska, we will make sure the U.S. continues to rely on Saudi oil, we all get what we want. Plausible? You decide. Dobson presented another frightening scenario this evening - that Kerry will win and appoint Hillary to the Supreme Court. But, back to the election, if Bush manages to win, I will guarantee you that they will attempt to assassinate him and probably blow up Wall St. and several financial institutions. They know Kerry well as a wimpy opportunist. They consider him weak, so they figure he won't be a threat to them and they will wait briefly to see what he does.

"I think I'm a moderate and the rest of the world is crazy." ~ God Bless Ann Coulter!

Wednesday, October 13, 2004 ~

I may OD on Excedrin before this election is over. If this election wasn't so important, I'm sure you would join me in saying, "wake me up when it's over." Bush won't win the debate tonight for two reasons. 1) Even if he does, the spin doctors controlling the media will say he didn't (like the last time) and 2) When will anyone ever figger out why conservatives are conservative? Few of us are big talkers, we are more uncomfortable throwing mud than our liberal counterparts, (which is why we need a few attack dogs like Rush and Coulter speaking up for us), and we are as hard on our President as we are on ourselves. Liberals treat their candidates like gods and will never do anything but bad-mouth and blame the other guy for the fact that they found a stem still on a raisin.

I called my local Board of Elections today to make sure they received my registration materials. The Commissioner, who is a long time friend, said not to worry, that she'd handled my registration herself.

I also spent a good amount of time writing a letter to the editor, only to discover the normal word count of 400 had been reduced to 200 for election commentary. Sigh~ Rewrote it and emailed it.

Hope wins. Her email is the only one I've opened all week. Had to, as it put me in the red. I copied all those pics to my hard drive, then blew up the one of Kerry on the slopes. I was hoping to discover that the logo on the bag sitting next to him was the U.N. logo, or the Lucis Trust logo, but it's too blurry for me to actually determine what it is. Loved the pics, Hope. I cannot imagine Teresa in the White House, but then, what do I know? I'm a riff-raffy common wo-man, ya know?

Tuesday, October 5, 2004 ~
Hmmmm...what was that I said not too long ago about the flu? Our supply of vaccine was cut in half today when Great Britain decided to revoke Chiron's license.

Kerry, from the debate transcript: "remedies of the United Nations, you've got to go to the U.N., went to the United Nations., Secretary General Kofi Annan, the United Nations, The United Nations, Kofi Annan, the remedies of the United Nations, respect to the U.N., the U.N. inspectors, the global test, the United Nations, at length with the United Nations, We needed to go to the U.N." Sounds to me like Kerry wants to outsource sovereignty. *Reply: From : Asman, David Tuesday, October 5, 2004 2:58 PM RE: It's "hard work" to be "fair and balanced." "Not a bad idea. I'll certainly mention it tomorrow." ~ David Asman

The DNC juveniles are running around accusing President Bush of outsourcing jobs. If Kerry wins the election, he will outsource our sovereignty. It's also rather ironic that they try to explain Kerry's absence from meetings on intelligence by saying the poor guy was busy campaigning, but disallow the fact that Bush had to fit the campaign into a schedule crammed with running a war on terror and working on a multitude of domestic issues. Kerry had time to blow on a tan and a manicure. Obviously, those things are more important to him than attending important meetings.

September 30, 2004 ~
The minute Kerry said that the United States had to pass the "global test," he lost the debate. The job of the United States President is to look out for the interests of the United States. Period. We do not need to "earn" the respect of the global community, and, as Bush said, we do not want to sign away our sovereignty or the rights of our own citizens by allowing them to be subjected to a global "justice" system that is made up of those who do not espouse the values and beliefs of the Founding Fathers of this nation. Kerry is a socialist and a globalist who would sign our rights away in a second. Even when asked for a specific plan of action, he skirted the issue and hung on to the U.N. and his socialist pals there as being the answer to the problems in Iraq and terrorism. If anyone is a puppet, it is Kerry. As Dick Cheney said tonight, "We will never seek a permission slip!"

Wednesday, September 30, 2004 ~
Considering the corruption within the United Nations, if Kerry had his way and we'd given the weapons inspectors more time, Saddam would have been gone, too. Why do you think there were no WMDs to be found? They were sneaked out of the country in parts by the weapons inspectors themselves ~ or, as they stood there and watched. Iraq blew off the U.N. sanctions because they could. After all, they had a business agreement with the U.N. elite that was benefitting both. Without Iraq, certain individuals in the U.N. would have been a lot poorer. It only makes sense that the U.N. would covertly aid Saddam.

And, yes, I caved in and flipped this journal around. Took me the whole day and still not quite done as my youngest wanted to use the puter. It's half-past one in the morning and it just occurred to me that I have to get up in 3 hours and head to Albany.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004 12:45 a.m. ~

Mom would have been 74 today. I'm feeling a little depressed tonight. The amount of reading I've been doing lately has been very heavy. Perhaps I should take a break from all of it. After all, the world isn't going to end tomorrow. Or will it? Nate has me reading "My Ishmael." He wants me to read "The da Vinci Code" and another of Dan Brown's novels. I am disappointed that he has taken them so to heart. Da Vinci Code was banned because "it could shake the core of one's Christian beliefs," which it seems to have done to my son. I noticed a couple of weeks ago that our church has started groups based on the theme of Rick Warren's "The Purpose Driven Life." If your area is hosting this New Age, Hegelian-based garbage, you may wish to read here before you consider joining such a group. Rick Warren appeared last week on a FOX News program and is enjoyng much success currently. But it is just another ploy to water down Christianity and prepare us for the one religion/one God that the U.N. and Share International are pushing for. While you are at Cutting Edge, you may want to visit another page there with some "weird" happenings concerning 9/11. For some odd reason, I cannot create popups to these pages, so you'll have to use your back button to get back here. I wonder how long it is going to take before people begin to realize exactly who is funding al Qaeda and why they are doing so. Most likely when it's too late. This Maitreya who is hiding in the wings is their trump card and they are just waiting for the right moment. What will be next? The flu? The warnings are already appearing in the paper to make sure infants and older Americans get their shots because it is supposed to be an extremely bad year. How bad will they make it? I'm sure they were disappointed that today's earthquake in California didn't hit a populated area and that the Florida hurricanes didn't cause more deaths.

I will head to Janna's early Thursday morning for another eye dr. visit. Not sure why. The boys will be here Friday night and Saturday so their mom and her new husband can attend a wedding. Barbeque on Sunday to celebrate my twins' 30th birthday. I must be getting old. It got warm here last week, but temps are dropping and we will probably see snow sometime in the next few weeks.

Aha! I checked other links and it would appear Tripod isn't allowing me to create pop-ups for other urls anymore. One of these days, I'll get this transferred to cajamnet. 2:40 a.m. Aidan woke up and I went down to fix him a bottle. He rarely wakes up in the middle of the night anymore. Kate woke up and came down as I was heating formula. She thanked me and headed up with the bottle. I was here much longer than I intended, but the pop-up failures irritated me and I had to delete and create simple links. Time for me to hit the sack. Goodnight, my Lion. I will always love you.

Monday (Thank God), September 27, 2004 ~

Started the tedious job of clearing tripod files last night. I've been putting it off, but can't do much more here unless I get the job done as I am almost out of space. Just for the heck of it, I wandered briefly into Diva of the Net to see what is going on there. The membership seems to have dwindled to next-to-nothing since Kathryn's return. Nate was getting ready to leave to catch the bus to RPI as I went to the kitchen to fix my breakfast. He used the toaster and microwave in the middle of my attempts to use them and when I had to look around for the second time to see where I'd put my coffee cup, I laughingly told him that he was messing up my routine. I told him my breakfast timing was like walking somewhere and gauging when to cross the street so as to take the fewest steps toward my destination. He said, Ah! So YOU are the one I get my OCD from!" I chuckled. He then proceeded to explain how, as a child, he'd developed rules for sidewalk walking. He allowed himself two steps per section. If a section forced him to take three steps, he had to do the next section in one. Then, of course, there were special rules for odd sections with cracks in them. He said the rules changed when he became an adult. When was that? Did I miss something? Snicker.

Kate, Aidan, and I walked over to Taste of the North Country yesterday. It was an enjoyable afternoon outing, but the event has become too expensive. With an admission fee of $4, plus 50 cents per coupon for food samples costing 2 to 7 coupons, we ended up with only 3 miniscule entree samples and 3 dessert samples. We shared one of the entrees and one of the desserts. A bologna sandwich would have been more filling. We sat at a large table on the lawn of City Park and chatted with the various people who came to sit at the same table. One couple, consisting of an older gentleman who appeared to be in his 70s and a much younger woman in her fifties started up a conversation after I'd offered them a spoonful of the Chocolate Trilogy Kate and I were sharing. The questions they'd been asking us were oddly personal and I soon discovered why. The man asked about our computers and if I worked outside the home, then began a rather hypnotic recital of his sales pitch. His companion sat next to him, smiling gently and looking rather spaced out. I recognized the Quixtar approach and asked sardonically if that was what he was trying to involve us in. He kept smiling, but he was NOT happy. I told him he should take note of how quickly I recognized Quixtar, which is a barely-legal pyramid scheme, at which point, the glint in his eyes turned cold. He slid his hand across the table and said he would take his business card back. (Why, sir? With all the fabulous money you're raking in from Quixtar, you can't afford the loss of a single business card?)

My recent research, which I've mentioned above (now below), and which has led me to the United Nations (and above), no matter what angle I started from, has led me to a search for alternative environmental organizations. By alternative, I mean ANY organization which refuses to be affiliated with the U.N. or Greenpeace and its sub-sects. For those of you with environmental concerns, I would suggest looking up abetterearth.org and Greenspirit. Greenspirit was founded by Patrick Moore, a former radical with Greenpeace, who wisely decided that common sense dictates that we humans need to be included in the plans for the environment. Greenpeace has branded him a traitor because he disagrees with their idea that man does not belong on earth. I wonder if Branson of Virgin Galactic could be bribed into making one-way trips for the likes of Kofi, Maurice, and Al? Oh, and let's not forget Robert Muller who could make the trip on the laps of John and Teresa.

Wednesday, September 8, 2004 ~
It's hard to believe I've now been back in New York for almost two full seasons. Family events have kept me away from here, but as Fall arrives, serious work must be done. In the South, residents float from one season to the next (hurricanes aside), but here in the North Country, seasonal changes are abrupt. Winter is long. There was no "sleeping in" on September 1st, of course. Cousin Deana flew back to Tallahassee just in time for Frances. Connor was here for almost a week and his brother, Gabriel, joined us for a few days before his mom returned from Maui. I have care of Aidan, now almost 7 months old, during the week, although because his mom's work day begins in the wee hours, he is asleep for half the time she is at work. Connor and Gabe start school tomorrow, in 6th and 1st grades, respectively. My son, the professor, is teaching 3 classes at RPI and giving guitar lessons as time allows. In the past, we've rarely celebrated Labor Day with more than a nod. This year was much different with parties at Margret's and Jimmy's estate and an impromptu gathering at daughter Janna's. My son's girlfriend's family has claimed him "forever" and he seems content to ride that wave. He and Mel will be looking for a place of their own within the next month or so. Daughter Kate is still in the process of severing ties with Aidan's father, although we have one more event that he will be attending. Daniel and Aidan will be christened together on the 19th and that requires his presence.

So. Now that the wedding is over, I need to return to the unpacking that was so difficult to find time to do. When Nate moves out, I will turn that room into a playroom for the grandchildren.

There are things I want to do here at Journal and with the Lion's site and I will attempt to get back into forum, as well. One reason that I have been missing at forum is that my research into religion has taken me to some very strange places in the past few weeks. So strange, in fact, that I'm afraid there are those who would think I've lost my marbles. It began, "simply" enough with a study of Islam. As I researched also the psychological aspects of cults and mind control, I read intently through 8 years of emails at a theosophy group, looking for the discussion of Maitreya I knew I would find there. I've wandered through scripture, prophecy, New Age sites, Christian websites, satanistic sites, the United Nations and its involvement with Share International and Lucis Trust. Either this is the biggest plot ever arranged to affect all of humanity or it is truly the coming of the anti-christ. I've read Blavatsky, Bailey, Creme, Eastwood, Krishnamurti, Andrew Cohen, and many others. Maitreya is being slowly introduced to the world as the World Teacher, the Christ, which he assuredly is not. But if not, then who? You, dear reader, will have to decide for yourself. I have reached no conclusions, but will admit that question marks are now forming at the end of every breath I take. When Pope John Paul II takes it upon himself to issue an encyclical letter in regard to theosophy and New Ageism, when he requests an audience with Maitreya, when in failing health he visits Fatima for the last time, it tells me there is more to this than meets the eye. Who knows the real meaning of the 3rd secret of Fatima, which had been under lock and key since 1950? It is my belief, judging from the translated documents, that the Pope and Sister Lucia whitewashed the true meaning of the 3rd secret when they divulged it. I do not believe it had anything to do with the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II. The English translation of the third secret is below. You decide.

"After the two parts which I have already explained, at the left of Our Lady and a little above, we saw an Angel with a flaming sword in his left hand; flashing, it gave out flames that looked as though they would set the world on fire; but they died out in contact with the splendour that Our Lady radiated towards him from her right hand: pointing to the earth with his right hand, the Angel cried out in a loud voice: ‘Penance, Penance, Penance!'. And we saw in an immense light that is God: ‘something similar to how people appear in a mirror when they pass in front of it' a Bishop dressed in White ‘we had the impression that it was the Holy Father'. Other Bishops, Priests, men and women Religious going up a steep mountain, at the top of which there was a big Cross of rough-hewn trunks as of a cork-tree with the bark; before reaching there the Holy Father passed through a big city half in ruins and half trembling with halting step, afflicted with pain and sorrow, he prayed for the souls of the corpses he met on his way; having reached the top of the mountain, on his knees at the foot of the big Cross he was killed by a group of soldiers who fired bullets and arrows at him, and in the same way there died one after another the other Bishops, Priests, men and women Religious, and various lay people of different ranks and positions. Beneath the two arms of the Cross there were two Angels each with a crystal aspersorium in his hand, in which they gathered up the blood of the Martyrs and with it sprinkled the souls that were making their way to God."

Sunday, August 29, 2004 ~
After scanning the list of wacko fringe groups coming into NYC for the convention, I'm ecstatic that I am not a city dweller. It has actually become a very frightening situation. Islamic terrorists will have no problem fitting in with our own domestic lunatic terrorists.

Monday, August 23, 2004 ~
Where do I begin? A plea for help for a harried soon-to-be-wed daughter last Wednesday brought Connor and Gabe here with me a day early. Gabe was in 7th heaven playing with friends here. Connor was a couch potato, switching back and forth between Game Boy, TV, Play Station in the living room, Play Station in his uncle's room, and free cell on my computer. I took my youngest daughter to the mall on Thursday for shoes and I found a dress for the Bridal Brunch. We arrived home just as my cousin, Deana, pulled into the driveway. It was wonderful to see her. We chatted for a bit, but I still had a bezillion things to do before the wedding, so I had to leave her with the rest of the family for awhile. I still hadn't packed up and we were leaving early Friday morning, not to return until after the wedding. I figured I'd do that before heading to bed early, but our plans changed and Nate asked us to come down to The Lagoon where he was performing. Kate had headed to bed early, so I asked Bruce if he'd watch Connor and Gabe until we got back. I didn't really expect to be gone very long. Nate went on stage half an hour late - about 11, after he did his routine, he called for the band to join him and boy, did they jam hard for another hour. They were hot and gave a great performance! Nate's friend, Anthony, joined us at our table and was delighted when Deana gave him his new nickname, "Mr. Smell Good." He offered us a ride home when Nate was done, but Deana wanted to walk. If we had been free to stay out, I think she would have been content to visit several more bars. She was having a great time. But, with an early morning ahead of us, we headed home. She went to her room to read before turning out her light. I headed to my office to make a final list of what I needed to pack, then left hubby a note to get me up between 5 and 5:30.

The next thing I knew, he flipped the bedroom light on and said, "Ummmm, it's 6:30." He'd overslept. He never oversleeps! I flew out of bed. Deb and Kennedy had missed their original flight from Ft. Myers because their power had gone out again and they hadn't arrived here until 9 the night before. She'd called to ask if she could follow us down to Albany. She was here promptly at 8:30 a.m. Friday. I was still throwing things in my suitcase. We had 4 cars lined up in the street ready to pull out at 9 and the garbage truck pulled up, so we were forced to sit and wait for it to make its way down our tiny one-way street. I was positive we were going to be late. Hubby was leading the pack, with the two boys in his car. He was the only who knew how to get to The Mansions and the rest of us followed him for the next hour. The little streets in Albany were already lined with cars and he stopped his, jumped out and yelled for us to look carefully and back into the one-way street in front of The Mansions. Deana heard the "look carefully" part, but not the "back up" part. She turned around in the street and headed the wrong way, as did Deb. Hubby started yelling angrily and waving his arms like a madman. Deana muttered under her breath for him to get off the sidewalk and into the street so she could run him down. But we got parked and he took off with the boys to babysit at Gret's house. We were not late. As a matter of fact, we were the first ones there. (The Brunch was at 10:30, not 10, as I'd thought). Relatives of our beloved groom began to arrive and we spent the next half hour with introductions all around. The bride-to-be finally arrived and after enjoying a good number of Mimosas, we all sat down to a very nice brunch. The first offering was fresh melon and strawberries layered atop a yogurt base and topped with a sweetened granola. There were baskets of muffins and rolls. Plates of eggs, sausage, potatoes and veggies followed that and we ended with a delightful variety of delicious petit fours. More Mimosas and much conversation ended the brunch. Because the invitation had not specified that it was a shower, not all brought gifts, so to avoid embarrassing those who had not brought one, we loaded Gret's car up and she took them home to open them there instead. Deb headed back to Glens Falls, Kate went to pick up Aidan and Deana and I followed Gret to her house. Hubby had to take the boys to the groom's parents's house, so he took off. Kate came back without Aidan as she couldn't find the baby's father. She and Deana decided to hang out at Gret's for the afternoon. Deana made herself comfy on a towel in the grass. She'd been itching to walk barefoot in the grass, which is something she can't do much of in Florida, which is also fire ant country. Gret went over her checklists and she opened the card from her Dad and me with the card from Bed, Bath & Beyond indicating we'd given her the dust ruffle to match her duvet. Kate and I also gave her the hamper she wanted and a wedding guest book (which all of a sudden I am thinking I forgot to sign:).

Gret and I took off for Adam Station for the rehearsal. We were running late and of course, her sister called her on her cell and begged her to stop for white nail polish on our way. We were close to an hour late for rehearsal. We made a few last minute decisions about how to do things and then ran through everything. We were all worried about the weather. Predictions were for severe storms and heavy rain and an 80% chance of rain for the wedding.

Hubby and I left Adam Station and checked in at our motel, which was fairly close. Hubby took a nap (of course), while I did other last minute things. By the time we left for the groom's parets' house, it was raining. Of necessity, the "picnic" moved indoors and stayed there. We had a great time, although Connor would probably disagree. Deb had specifically brought her daughter up so she and Connor would be able to see each other. Deb called to say Kennedy didn't want to come (so typical) and Connor went upstairs to pout for an hour. The rehearsal party picnic turned into a picnic for close to 100 people with a large bar and a tremendous amount of food. Kate had finally located Aidan's dad and the three of them joined the party. I'm not really sure when it ended or what time it was when we got back to the motel. As a matter of fact, I don't even remember getting into my jammies. The next thing I knew, it was Saturday morning and it was pouring. The closer it got to the wedding, the harder it rained. Deana had the luxury of lounging. Hubby and I had to be at The Desmond suite for a photo session at 12:30. My brother-in-law, Bob, was checking in after his flight from San Francisco just as we were leaving. As we drove up the highway toward the Desmond, we saw traffic backed up and completely stopped on the south-bound lane. There must have been an accident. This was important, as that would have been the way we'd head to the wedding from the Desmond and we would have to change our route. I had not dressed yet because of the rain, so I joined Gretchen, Janna, and the boys in their suite and changed there. Gretchen was dressed and Janna had trouble with the bow on the back of the dress. I can't do bows either, so we decided to have someone fix it before she walked down the aisle. I don't think it ever got fixed. Janna smirked when Gretchen's hair dresser put bio silk in my hair to get rid of my frizzies (groan). Janna was the last to get dressed. The photographer showed up in the lobby, so we all joined her for photos. The first ones were done in front of the fireplace there, then we walked to King Street, another area of the Desmond, which is incredibly huge, and for another hour, there were more photos. Connor sat quietly and Gabe jumped around. The boys looked so great in their tuxes, although I have a feeling Connor had shot up another 2" since his last fitting. Gabe was a riot, saying "cheese" with an overdone grin over and over again for photos. And it continued to rain. But it was time and we left for Adam Station.

Guests had already begun to arrive and after hugs here and there in the lobby, I walked out to the tent where people were finding tables. Other than the tables for the wedding party, there were no assigned tables. So I busied myself making sure the grandparents and siblings got the closest tables before turning my attention to keeping track of the boys, mainly Gabriel, who disappeared every time I turned my head. Unbelievably, the rain stopped and everyone was turning their eyes to the sky, watching blue appear, and incredibly and miraculously, the sun! The powers that be at Adam Station had put pieces of plywood all over the grass under the tent. There was so much mud. But the sun was out and suddenly nobody cared about the mud. Poor Gabe's suspenders kept coming undone and he kept sneaking out to the tent. I must have retrieved him from there at least 4 times. A few minutes before the wedding, Gabe's suspenders came undone again and Connor's shirt had become untucked. The DJ had already played the 3 follow-up songs and we were waiting. Gabe suddenly decided he couldn't take anymore and started crying. Then Connor started crying. Rob's mom took them both aside and they came around. We made a last minute switch and Gabe walked out first with Rob's mom (he was supposed to walk out with Janna, who was the Matron of Honor and only attendant to Gretchen. And Enya's "Only Time" played gently. I walked out after Joan, then Janna, then Scott, Rob's brother and best man, walked out with Connor. It all worked out! Gretchen walked out around the pool and up to the gazebo on her father's arm. Gabe stood with Joan and Connor stood with me. Rob had a special gift for both boys and when the time came, Joan and I led them up to Rob, then stepped back. Gretchen cried a little during their vows and Janna and I both were happy-teary. And before you knew it, we were applauding Mr. and Mrs. (after an exceedingly lengthy kiss)! lol! The wedding party walked back under sunny skies toward the building where the lobby was and stopped before the doors to form a receiving line. Rob has close to 100 cousins and I think they were all there in that line. It was the longest receiving line I've ever been in. The wedding party went inside for champagne and yours truly went galloping back to the tent to find Gabe again for one more formal event. The DJ announced us. Hubby and I went first with Connor and Gabe, then the rest followed us into the tent. The dancing began immediately and never ended. After a formal dance with Gretchen and the boys, the boys were to be driven to Rob's parents. Guess who disappeared again? As I went back to look for him one more time, I heard Rob yell. Gabe was in his mom's car. She stopped the car. Rob pulled Gabe's door open, not realizing Gabe was leaning against the door with the bottle of juice. Gabe didn't fall out, but the glass bottle smashed on the pavement. I managed to pick most of it up before slicing my finger (geesh!!!). Gabe got out of the car and I pointed to 2 bricks and told him to put his feet each on one and not to move otherwise I'd go find a leash! lol! Within a few minutes, the car that was supposed to take them home was located and they were shuttled out for the night. We all made our way back over the plywood and the mud to eat and drink and dance and boy, did we ever! I was tired and I'd think, "Gee, I just want to sit for a few minutes," but the minute I sat, some other great music would start and I'd be back up on the dance floor. Everyone went crazy and that dance floor was packed all night long. The anniversary dance went as planned, with the couple married the longest inevitably my hubby's parents. They will have been married for 56 years on Sept. 4. I was a little antsy about possible chastisement or perhaps even sarcasm coming from my in-laws, but all I got was "You look fabulous!" *grin* Even the one sister-in-law with whom I've always had an estranged relationship absolutely floored me by grabbing me and hugging me and telling with tears in her eyes how glad she was that I was back. The reception was only supposed to go til 9 because we were, after all, in a condo subdivision, but everything went so well with no complaints from the residents and everyone, including the owners who are personal friends of the groom's family and who had allowed the reception to be held there for free, that they extended the time. The dancing went on right up until 10 and we formed a circle around Rob and Gretchen as they danced their last dance. Gret didn't want it to end. I don't blame her. It was the best wedding I've ever been to in my life.

Many many good-bye hugs later, we were on our way back to the hotel. We joined a few people in the bar for half an hour or so, before it closed, then went to my brother-in-law's room. The DJ came with us and we chatted for another hour before heading to our room to collapse into bed. Check out time came early the next morning and family and friends flitted between each other's rooms as we packed up to head home. I'd stayed Saturday night long enough to help Gret out of her wedding dress, the bottom of which was covered with mud. All of us ended up the same way. I promised her I'd take her dress to her sister's the next day so Janna could get it to the dry cleaner immediately. We drove to Janna's for pecan coffee and an enjoyable sit outside in the sun. Gret called while we were there and said Rob's mom said she would take the dress to the dry cleaner and she wanted us to pick up Connor and take him with us, rather than having his father drive all the way down. So we left Janna's and headed to Joan and Big Rob's to drop off the dress and pick up Connor. Gretchen and Rob were there, so we had a chance to wish them a fantastic honeymoon in Maui. And then it was time to go home finally. I tried to get ahold of Deb one more time so she could bring her daughter over to see Connor before his dad picked him up, but she never answered her cell, so Connor called his dad. Deb and Kennedy left to fly back to Florida today, so the whole point of Deb bringing Kennedy with her was a wash. Oh well. Like I said before - it figures. Deana took a nap after we got back, as did Bruce. Deana left to visit some friends for a few days. She will return on Thursday as she wants to see Nate's last performance Thursday night. I was going to write that tomorrow is Kate's 23rd birthday, but it is already August 24th now. She was going to try to stay up until 12:05 a.m., which is the time she was born, but didn't quite make it. She starts the day rather unpleasantly, as she has support court at 9:30 this morning, but I will be taking her out to shop for clothes for her birthday. Nate and his girlfriend are taking her out to dinner. Janna and her family will be coming for cake afterwards and if there is time, I will take Kate out for a birthday drink. She works Tuesday and gets up at 3 a.m., so it will be a short night. Gabe is at Joan and Rob's until Wednesday, when he will come up here until the following Tuesday and Connor is at his dad's and will also probably come back here Wednesday night. Deana flies back on the 29th. I'm wondering if my sister in Ft. Myers ever got power. It actually came back on while she was talking to me on the phone last week - for about an hour. She called back to tell me a tree had been resting on a power line and had snapped the line right after they got power back. So I will give her a call sometime this week. And on the 1st of September, I think I'll sleep in :)

Thursday, August 19, 2004~
A little change of music here. An arrangement of Enya's "Only Time" is playing. This was a song dear to the Lion and me. He never had a chance to sequence this. However, it is the song my daughter and her fiance are using as there entrance song for their wedding on Saturday. So, I will play it here for now. I will most likely not be back here again until Sunday or Monday.

Wednesday, August 18, 2004 ~
Insanity hits as we are only a few days from the wedding now. Another call from my daughter, the bride, this morning. Thanks to her dad and brother for spending all yesterday painting their duplex in prep for new tenants next week. Did we think we could take the 2 boys tonight rather than waiting until tomorrow night? Call from my cousin letting me know she will arrive in Albany tomorrow at noon. She heard from my sister (I did not, thank you very much, Kathy). My sister and her family live in Ft. Myers and her husband's parents live on Sanibel, so I have been worried all week not hearing from anyone. I am babysitting Aidan this morning until his mom returns from work. Still have last minute shopping to do and a spare room to prepare. I have been married for 31 years today. Hubby gave me a coupon for a round-trip flight to see my cousin in Tallahassee whenever I decide to go. Now THAT was a surprise and she is also thrilled that I will be able to visit her for a couple of weeks.

In Najaf, coward al-Sadr and his band of co-cowards are still holing up in the Imam Ali shrine. If they were real men, they would leave the shrine. A few minutes after I wrote this, there was a news update saying he has accepted the terms of the ceasefire. We'll see what happens next.

Tuesday, August 10, 2004 ~
For those of you who do not understand that we are fighting Islam itself, please take the time to visit the following website. strike-free.net

Paul Williams, former FBI consultant said in an interview this morning that the next attack IS coming in the form of suitcase nukes, at least 20 of which are already in various locations around the U.S. and that there are approximately 5000 Al Qaeda operatives in this country. Granted, he is promoting his book, but it is probable that he is correct. Al Sadr's statement that he wishes to die from an atomic bomb dropped by the Americans is little more than an attempt to entice us to do just that, in which case it would then be "justifiable" for the Islamic terrorists to retaliate by doing the same to us. He would then also be considered a martyr for the cause, which is to have the entire world (the U.S., especially) prostrate for Allah. It is too bad the Iraqi youths being recruited by these madmen do not use the time on their hands to help rebuild Iraq, rather than carrying banners, jumping up and down for Allah, and joining terrorist training camps or reading terrorist training manuals distributed by Al-Battar.

Tuesday, August 3, 2004 ~ I'm a little bleary-eyed tonight, but feeling remiss as I haven't written anything here or at forum in a couple of weeks. Feeling like I should apologize for that, but not really. Laf had time to devote to writing at length because I was keeping house, I suppose. I am still keeping house, albeit in another place, so my thinking and writing time is limited, especially now with the wedding less than 3 weeks away. Things change so quickly here that I feel I need to do a play-by-play. Connor sleeps on my couch tonight. I "saved" part of the wall for him to paint for me. We talked for a bit after everyone else went to bed. When I first saw him sitting downstairs and called him up to help me tonight, he said he didn't know I was here. I asked him later if that was because he'd gotten used to me being gone and he shook his head vehemently. The bond is still there and I love him with all my heart. Nate and friend, Anthony, drove to NYC today for a soccer game in the Bronx. Daughter Kate had an extra workday added to her schedule. Thursday would have been my only free day. It no longer is. The first of our generation in our family died Friday night of a massive heart attack. I could not attend the funeral in Connecticut because of my appointment with the eye specialist on Monday. No decisions there. He changed my meds and I have another appt. in 6 weeks. I stayed overnight at daughter Janna's so she could take me to the appt. She treated me to lunch after my appt., introducing me to her boss as my "not-really-blind" mother. I had my eyes dilated, so was forced to wear the weird roll-up sunglasses under my regular glasses and yes, I will admit that I looked rather strange. I've been reading and studying the Muslim world in any spare time I've had recently. I've been looking for specific things about Muslims, Islam, and about UBL, because I remember watching him speak to his militants with the Lion and saying something seemed not quite right with bin Laden. He seemed "soft" and did not make eye contact, making him appear (to me) to be disinterested in those he was speaking to. I found an article last night which is so good that everyone in this country should read it. It is so good that Muslims should read it. **NOTE: try again. I didn't put in the correct link last night** Al Qaeda’s Fantasy Ideology By Lee Harris If you read this, please send to everyone you know. It is that important. Remember that I lived with someone who struggled between reality and fantasy. The article brought home much to me personally. And, I was tempted to send to O'Reilly, as well. I would tell him to replace "al qaeda" with "Michael Moore." But the most important part of the article is Harris's admonition that there is no way to deal with the terrorists other than to find them and kill them. Period. My readings of the Qur'an, of the life of Muhammad, lead me to the belief that the "Great Satan" is, in fact, Islam. You will reach your own conclusions, I'm sure. But gone are any beliefs that Islam of any sort is a religion of peace. It is not. We had a client, Abdul, who would not shake my hand. I was not only an infidel. I was a female infidel. The Lion explained to me that Abdul was forbidden to shake hands or touch another female who was not his wife. But Laf also told me of discussions he'd had with Abdul while doing "social" business. He told him that while he respected his beliefs, he expected the same respect from Abdul. I never got over the impression that Abdul simply thought he was above us. Muhammad was a thief and a criminal, who, when rejected by Jews as an authority on Judaism, became disgruntled and vindictive. Some prophet, huh? Islam is a "religion" based on the teachings of a violent man. I wonder how men who hide their faces can consider themselves heroes.

And still, if I close my eyes, I'm in Georgia.

Wednesday, July 28, 2004 ~
The Lion had his own alphabet soup expressions. After finding his coffee cannister with a big crack down the side of it yesterday and finding a broken glass in the trash can this morning, H.U.A. and S.F.B. come to mind. I'll let you figure those out.

The most interesting thing I saw last night as I watched FOX News coverage of the dumbocrats in Beantown, was the back-to-back ad for Center for Consumer Freedom, which is asking us to sign a petition to have PETA's tax exempt status removed. Go visit the site and if you'd prefer not to give them your info online, print it out and snail mail it. You may or may not recall their association with VegSource, the international vegan group responsible for hacking into Laf's website, as well as my own and Bunny's a few years back. PETA is ripping us off with a tax except status they do not deserve as they have not lived up to the conditions of the agreement. They are little more than a domestic terrorist group and it is time to put a stop to their activities. If you do not sign this petition, you are condoning and promoting violence.

Monday, July 26, 2004 ~
The first round of pre-wedding parties is over. It was a busy, social weekend with the Bachelorette held Friday night, Melody's graduation party on Saturday, and my daughter's Bridal Shower on Sunday morning. My littlest angel had her work review Friday and managed 3 small pay raises and a promotion. My son received notice of the electrical engineering classes he will be teaching at RPI while he works on his doctorate.

The report coming out of Beantown this morning that chemotherapy and radiation treatments are being delayed because of the convention bothers me greatly. As the Libs and their Hollywood cohorts eschew the failing healthcare system and profess to have plans to repair it, their show will disrupt medical treatments for thousands. As they profess their love of the working class, thousands of Bostonians will be out of work for 4 or more days.

Friday, July 16, 2004 ~
Shortly past midnight. I listen to this music of the Lion's and hear the delight he put into what is a bittersweet song. He was happy when he sequenced this. So was I. I'd found the one I'd spent my entire life searching for. Although he is gone, I hold him close - so very close. I see his shoulders, his waist, his hips in front of me each night when I close my eyes. I want to drape my arm over him as I always did, but there is nothing but a memory to hold on to.

I tried to prevent Aidan's dad from thinking he could come and spend Wed. night here by telling my daughter two days beforehand that it was not going to happen. Guess who showed up anyway? I stood my ground, however. He was here most of Wednesday evening, but disappeared. I don't know if he went back home or if he slept in his car, but he wasn't here and that's all that counts. Of course, his face was the first thing I saw when I woke up this morning. As it turned out, this court hearing was not for support. It was for Medicaid copay. Later, after he'd gone home, I found the support phone number and went to hand the phone and the phone book to my youngest. She yelled that SHE WAS NOT GOING TO DO THIS NOW!!!

The cable guy came with a faulty work order, so I do not have cable in the office yet, but there is cable in the living room. Turns out he skated with Nate in youth hockey. I didn't recognize him, but I remember his dad very well. Nice guy with long hair who always wore a cowboy hat with a feather.

Nate took the Lion's hard drive out of his puter and tried to get it set up on his with access to the drive for me. So far, it is not working, but if he figgers it out, I'll be able to access and backup all the files (including dairy.html, which was Laf's mis-typed diary file. I don't really want to read it. It was the one he started at my urging so he could gripe about me if he wanted. I just kind of want to hang on to it. Not sure why.)

I spent the evening reading through the DMV manual. I don't care what the dr. says, I am going to finagle a way to pass the vision test so I can drive. The calendar is filling quickly and I need to pay attention to wedding things immediately.

Melody, Nate's girlfriend, showed up for awhile tonight. They went down to The Lagoon with the sandwich board Nate built tonight to advertize for the Aggressive Music Festival this weekend. He knocked on my door a few minutes ago to tell me he was headed back to Lagoon to play a set. He sent me a url thru messenger this morning that I so want to share. This Land A word of warning. Their server was being slammed earlier. You may need to save the url and try later. But it is a must-visit site. I laughed my behind off!

I miss Galadriel, the elusive figure who posted at my ITW forum back in the old days. A wise and supportive figure who always made me feel better.

Monday, July 12, 2004 ~
Just after midnight. I actually felt somewhat energetic and creative Sunday morning. I need to feel that way more often with the wedding approaching and so much to do beforehand. But the good feelings ended at noon, when I walked downstairs and found James in the living room. I just about blew a gasket. Hubby sat with a beer in the kiddie pool most of the afternoon before getting Nate to help him move the console TV upstairs. I had no clue they'd done that until later when I discovered they'd plunked it in front of the office supply cabinet in the spare room so I can't get into the cabinet. Hubby asked me when I wanted him to fix dinner. I said, "After James leaves." Unfortunately, it had to be made before that because Nate had to leave for work at 6:15. Hubby called me down for dinner. He ate in the living room in front of James. I decided to eat in the kitchen so I'd be there to give the appropriate evil looks if James came out to eat. He wasn't invited for dinner, after all. Kate came out and made a point of saying she wasn't hungry and fixed a plate for herself, then put it in the fridge. Nate, who was taking a quick nap, came out to the kitchen and inhaled his dinner, then left for work. I deliberately put all the leftovers away immediately. Hubby asked if I wanted to go to Martha's for ice cream. Not really. I was already too full and I wanted to stay to continue to make my point to James. However, I went. In a car with hubby blasting oldies, when all I wanted was peace and quiet. We returned an hour later and sure enough, Kate and James were sitting in the living room with plates of food. I went upstairs and slammed the door. James does not seem to understand that when he comes, he is company and no more. Polite company, noting that the family is preparing to have supper, should excuse itself and drag freight. But not James. He hangs around to be fed. I wouldn't care if I ever saw his face again at this point. I told Kate this afternoon that he has to be the stupidest man I have ever met in my life. I detest feeling angry, but this has got to stop. We already have five people living in this house. We do not need leeches who won't go away.

Tuesday, July 11, 2004 ~
I needed yesterday. I enjoyed a whole 24 hours without James in the house. I hate feeling so angry. My mood improves 100% the instant he walks out the door. Unfortunately, he will be here Thursday for support court. Why do I think he will show up here Wednesday night? The excuse, of course, would be that he wouldn't want to drive an hour before court, and it would be so much easier if he could spend the night, ya know? The cable guy will be here Thursday. I am still unpacking boxes and arranging things. That process is much like one of those little squares with the numbers you move around to get them in order. With the wedding next month, the flurry of showers and parties beginning next week, trying to plan a trip to the eye specialist in Albany, getting to DMV for permit and voter registration, I just cannot deal with anyone extra in the house. Today, I will move everything I can out of the office and into the spare room so I can get the wall sanded and primed for paint. I heard from daughter Gretchen yesterday. She had two sleepless nights with Gabe and was waiting for a call back from his doctor. The poor little guy is missing summer school and camp. She also told me that our little terrorist took off on her yesterday morning, just as he did here last week. He turned up to say he'd gone to a friend's house and what was the big deal? He came back, didn't he?

Saturday, July 10, 2004 ~
It doesn't seem possible that I've not been in here since the 3rd week in June, but then I must remember that I am starring in the 32nd annual filming of my family's soap opera. As I sit here on this mid-summer morning, I wait for James to try to sneak out of Kate's bedroom, so he can avoid me. He was finally banned from staying here after I griped enough about his continual presence. I reminded my daughter of the old saying about fish and houseguests. She attempted to play on our sympathies by telling us that we were forcing James to sleep in his car. It is not our fault that the 30-year old father of her baby resides with his grandmother and only has a couch for a bed. Naturally, he prefers staying with us. He complained that it was too expensive for him to drive to and from Albany, where he works and "lives," but was willing to give us money in exchange for his weekend visits? He has been sleeping in the spare room, but sneaked into Kate's room last night when I dozed off in my chair. I got up early this morning because I was curious as to how this rule infringement would be explained. Kate told me he came in after my son returned this morning from his night job. I told her I knew better. Now James is hiding in her room with the baby while Kate is off at her job. And I sit here waiting for him to show his face so I can give him "the look."

Little Gabriel's visit had to be shortened when his earache and 101 degree temp became severe enough to require a visit to his doctor. The doctor was kind enough to prescribe antibiotic over the phone to prevent an expensive trip to the ER. He will see Gabe on Monday to assess the problem. Although I was saddened by his early departure, I must admit I do not miss the "screamers." Gabe befriended the two boys who live two houses down and the three of them played happily in our backyard for a couple of days. I watched them out my window as they scrambled up and down the ladder to the treehouse and I listened intently for a bona fide scream from the neighbor's boys. We hear them scream all the time and at times it is more annoying than listening to the incessant barking of the neighbor's dog. I've been itching for an opportunity to admonish them for the screaming and got my chance yesterday. I told them that screaming was not allowed and that if they screamed, they'd better have a life-threatening injury. I paid for letting them play here, though. We've had that treehouse for 10 years and the oldest boy ripped the tarp off the top and it will have to be repaired or replaced. The younger one cried first because he was scared to climb up, then again when he climbed up and was too scared to climb down. After running out to rescue him twice, I told him he would have to stay out of the treehouse.

I wandered downstairs for a cold soda and to ask my husband what his plans were for the day. I was going to initiate a humorous conversation about our "houseguest," but when my husband responded to my question with "I'm going to torch the house," I left the kitchen. My first trip to the kitchen this morning got a similar complaint about Maya, Kate's cat, who had gone to the basement when "someone" inadvertently left the door open. Now, I don't want Maya down there either, as he seems to think of it as a very large litter box, but I don't want to hear about it the minute I get up. His former co-workers gave him the nickname "Boom-Boom." I wonder if it ever occurred to him to ask them why? Welcome to my world! P.S. It is quarter to 10 and although I heard Aidan crying awhile ago, his dad has still not ventured out of the room. He is probably hoping I will shower so he can sneak out without running into me.

We have had a small plane flying over the house since about 7 a.m. The plane came in so low over the roof the first time that I jumped and ran toward the stairs for protection. I seriously thought it was going to end up parked in my office. There's plenty of farmland for practicing pilots. Why give lessons over a residential area?

Tuesday, June 22, 2004 ~
A late night chat with Herb brought me out of the funk I was in after another sarcastic comment from hubby, who wanted to know how I paid for my son's birthday dinner. I told him I paid for it the same way I paid for his Father's Day gift. He is also bent out of shape about the guy who moved into my neighbor's upstairs apartment. Seems it is someone he worked with at one time. I have Aidan today and Thursday. But even so, it is refreshing to have a break from what seemed to be a week of shopping. I detest shopping. I used to tell the Lion I was going to get him a "Born to Shop" bumper sticker for the truck. Nate has to report for jury duty in a few days. He is not real happy about that as he has a wedding to attend in Rochester this coming weekend. Kate is trying to plan Aidan's baptism. I noticed Aidan's dad picked up the church bulletin from the kitchen table last Sunday. He didn't read it. He stood holding it in his hand as though he wanted to say something. He was not brought up in any faith at all and I think he is nervous about being part of a formal church ceremony. Kate tells me he has mentioned a desire to go to church with us. Of course, she hasn't attended Mass herself in eons and it would do her some good to get back into it, as well. I mentioned Cavuto to Herb last night and he called him "the best commentator in America." I remember trying to get Laf to watch him on FOX News. He initially told me that Cavuto irritated him; that he looked like a spoiled, snooty rich kid and he refused to listen to him. But before long, he started asking me what time he was on. Cavuto's common sense even won the growly Lion over. Cavuto is "worth it" in my book.

Let me get this straight. If Aidan's dad comes here after work on Thursday, sleeps here Thursday night, comes after work on Friday, sleeps here Friday night, stays all day Saturday and leaves after dinner Sunday night only to return Tuesday after work, is this his legal residence? Nate says, "Geesh! I'm not even here that much!" Can we claim the guy on our taxes?

I find myself actually agreeing with something Ellen Goodman stated in her column today. Ms. Goodman said, "(Michael)Newdow is living proof that litigious life begins at birth."

Saturday, June 19, 2004~
It is a little past midnight and I listen to Delilah, who plays "In The Living Years," by Mike and the Mechanics, and I shed tears for Arden Christopher James, who never had the chance to really know his Poppa.

Friday night. June 18, 2004 ~
It is dark now. Stifling humidity. Worse is the stifling atmosphere. "There are changes," he said. "You are to become the Christian wife." I slipped outside and started the truck up. I can't drive it, so I moved it forward and backward in the driveway. Revved the engine a bit. And sat there listening to truck noises and remembering.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004 ~
Yeeha! I managed to get Laf's site back up. I'm not sure why anyone is having a problem bringing this one up. When I have a few, I'll check the link at forum to make sure it isn't broken. It took me all day Sunday shooting emails back and forth with the Powweb techies to figger out what the problem was with the Lion's site. I'll be heading out of here to spend the night at Janna's. We will shop around tomorrow for a less expensive mother-of-the-bride dress, although once she saw me wearing the one I really wanted, she knew why. It is my daughter's day, but I am, of course, the Prodigal Wife, and I wanted to look so darned good that the tongue-waggers would be forced to bite those tongues of theirs. Oh well, I'm just a clothes horse who looks great in anything, ya know? (rolling my eyes here).

Monday, May 24, 2004 ~
I received a late-night phone call from my son, who bounces for bucks at a local saloon, to warn me of the tornado warning that had been issued. He suggested I grab the tarp and throw it over the boxes on the front porch. Of course, IF WE HAD TV, I would have known and I would have had an opportunity to prepare. There was some thunder and lightening and sprinkles before I hit the sack, but nothing more. I woke up this morning to see boxes had been moved. They are lined up as though they are awaiting entry. And they are very wet. I guess this means I'd better get back to work on the unpacking. Sigh ~

Speaking of NO TV, I would have given my eye teeth to see Hillary on FOX yesterday. I would rate her right up there with my husband who saves money by unsubscribing to cable and buys 2-for-1 turkey bologna that no one will eat.

Yes, folks, I am back online since last Wednesday night. I've just had a rough time getting into the swing of anything. I have decided that not only did I leave my heart in Georgia, I also forgot to pack my brain. Also missing are the speakers for my puter and various cords and hook-ups for my printer, scanner, fax and copier. I am realizing one of my worst fears. The God of Computers (Laf's machine) may not be accessible to me in the near future, if at all. I need to get stuff off his hard drive before my son uses it for parts.

One of my twin daughters messaged me last night as she at her computer with a hungry baby on her lap. She asked if Dad and I were getting along. I was tempted to remark that he is still alive, but decided to save that for public announcement. Updates and breaking news on that situation will be made available here as events unfold.

I've been searching through boxes for some of the inspirational letters I received from Abbey Hospice as SOMONE ELSE needs to read them. We all work through the grief process in different ways and at different speeds. At the top of my list are "DON'T TALK TO ME" & "LEAVE ME ALONE." (No, I don't mean you, Nola:) Unfortunately, those items were on my list when Laf was alive, too.

I missed Herb's birthday (March 13), which I didn't realize until, while going through a box last night, I found a scribbled note to myself dated 4 or 5 years ago. And after I replied back to him on ICQ with a lengthy dissertation on my family without mentioning that he is older than dirt.

Every time I walk into the living room here (which is not often because THERE IS NO CABLE TV), I am struck by the implications of my husband's choice of a white scatter rug. I've never trusted anyone who has white carpeting or furniture.

Saturday night, May 22, 2004 ~
If I told you I could bear going back, I lied..

Monday, May 17, 2004 ~
I am back to living for Mondays. Yes, Hope, I am still unpacking. It occurred to me today that unpacking is like opening gifts - unless, of course, someone else packed the box and threw precious items unprotected and you find them broken. Which I did. Especially irritating were those things intended as gifts for my children from the Lion. I am reeling now from lack of privacy and routine. No knock on a door anymore. Draggie writes to tell me forum is no fun anymore. Bar posts and although I was originally concerned because each post knocks archives off, I have managed to save most of what Laf wrote and I do appreciate her posts. It is her way of telling me she is thinking about me and trying to help. I am still, unfortunately, on my son's computer. I have no Net access on mine, nor can I access my ftp yet, so there is little I can do. I am routine-oriented and right now, I have nothing that resembles a routine. It used to be that I sat at my computer in the morning, then left it to do other things during then day. Now, I cannot be online because my son sleeps until late, then he is on his computer for most of the day. By the time he's off, I am too tired to think. I have been waiting for snail mail from Bunny. It seems she takes a break a pretends I no longer exist if I am not online. I am not good, however, at accepting excuses for broken promises. I miss Father Dan.

Monday, April 26, 2004 ~
It's a rainy morning here in Georgia. I wish I could relax and enjoy it. There were so many, many things I wanted to do before I left here. But, I cannot perform the physical miracles that I could when I was younger and I am out of time. I made an early morning trip to the still full storage units to pick up boxes I'd left there. I needed to do that before the heavy rain comes. The vision is gone in my left eye and I don't trust myself to drive anymore. Bruce and Nate will arrive late tomorrow night after a 16 or 17 hour drive - too late to do anything other than eat and sleep. They will get the truck and auto transport on Wednesday afternoon and will not even begin to be able to start loading the truck until Wednesday night or Thursday. I'm not sure when we will leave. Nate is anxious to get back as soon as possible, of course, as he will be missing an entire week of work to bring his mom home. I have a feeling we are going to be 3 very cranky people over the next few days. But then it will be over and I will be back in upstate NY. I will stay online as long as possible. This puter will be the last thing loaded on the truck, as it was when I moved down here two and a half years ago. I will have to readjust to the temps up there, but will get to see Spring occur twice this year. Recent temps here in Georgia have been common only to the months of July and August in NY. There were places here I'd wanted to take pictures of, but I will have to content myself with the images in my mind. Sometimes I see the Lion puttering around the kitchen or sitting on the bed rubbing Ayo's belly or playing away at his keyboard. Those memories will be harder to see when I am back at the NY house.

Thursday night, April 22, 2004 ~
I spent the entire day cleaning the fridge and the stove and the oven and the fan. When I was done, I sat down here and cried. I just don't know how I can do all of this. I really don't. Yesterday, I went to the storage units. I managed to load the truck 3 times and put stuff at the curb. But there were metal desks I managed to get on the dolly and to the truck and then couldn't lift. I had to leave them. There are at least 4 desks still there, some stacked on top of others and I just can't do anything with them. People took all the furniture I put out. The utility company didn't take all the trash, though and that made me angry. I just want it all out of my sight. I brought back more boxes of the Lion's papers and went through them until after midnight. I know there are 6 or 7 (or more) boxes of INS and IRS files in stoprage and I will have to dump them. I just won't have room. Bruce called and tried to calm me down tonight, but I asked him if I'd been working on this stuff for 2 months, how he thought and he and Nate could take care of it all in 3 days. Maybe I will call Mr. Alex Brown after all and see if he and all of his many brothers and sisters and cousins want to meet me at the storage units. The Wildman said in one of his letters, "I don't know. The Lion's whole life was in those damned storage units." I think he was right. I found a story Laf wrote - a very sad story - hidden in one of the empty desks. He used a pseudonym, but I knew he wrote it. The title was "The Magic Car." Someday maybe I will share it with you. I wish there was someone I knew who would take Whiskey's saddle and saddle bags. I hate the thought of leaving those. The Deacon's wife said something about getting a bunch of men from the church to help me move stuff, but I said, "To where?" I dunno. I'm just not doing so well right now. Plus, Nola leaves tomorrow to see the dr. at Camp P. She has to have an MRI and/or biopsy of her brain. Not good news and she is scared to death.

Tuesday, April 20, 2004 ~
Today is the anniversary of the shootings at Columbine. It also marks the first project Laf and I worked on together - The Teen Pledge for Non-Violence. I have a copy of The Catholic Sun out of Phoenix, which was the first newspaper to print it, sitting next to me as I type. For now, it is just something else to pack away for the time being. This is the toughest move I've ever made in my life. As I said at forum, I have become the caretaker of the remnants of someone else's life. The life of a man I only knew for 6 years. It is much different than losing a family member in a family where people are close and share memories. I have only 1 week left here. I don't know how I can possibly clean to my liking as I can barely move through any room. At this point, I will be happy if I can just get the fridge and the oven clean. Packing is becoming more erratic as I fill boxes with a mish mosh of unrelated items just to get them packed. During the few breaks I took yesterday, I read through the forum at usslibertyinquiry.com. The members come so very close to discovering the truth. The one mistake they make is the assumption that those in the Israeli torpedo boats were all Israelis. The truth is right there in front of them, but they keep skirting it because they do not want to believe. Or perhaps it is because they want to believe in something good and are afraid to have those beliefs shattered.

I took the stars that caused his starstorm sleeplessness off the ceiling this morning.

Wednesday, April 7, 2004 ~
I lost 3 hours of work time last night when some bright individual hit a pole and knocked the power out from 8 to 11. I walked over to Lisa's and entertained her kids with the big flashlight, then got her an extra candle, although she'd already decided to pack up and go to her sister's for the night. Conveniently, I had been in the middle of packing candles and they were sitting in a box on my bed. I lit the big one on the porch as well and wandered back and forth chatting with my next door neighbor about his music career and his offer to buy the truck, which I do NOT want to sell. I called Todd the Techie who works for the utility company to ask him if he knew what was going on. He had power on his side of town and didn't know anything. They would have called him only if it was an Internet-related problem. I made myself a bologna sandwich and decided to hit the sack early. The power came back on just as I finished the sandwich, which figured. I waited for the computers to come back up so I could log in on both, then I did go to bed, but not before messaging someone I knew had been hiding from me. Tired of the continuing bs, I cut the conversation short and went to bed. I had another restless night and the blankets were all on the floor this morning. I freaked briefly when I saw the time, but realized I'd forgotten to reset my watch last weekend and had used it to set the clocks after the power had returned. Have so much to do today, I'm not sure where to begin. It is suppose to rain tomorrow, so I have to plan around a wet day.

Aha! I didn't forget to reset my watch. The battery died. Is someone trying to tell me something? Am I receiving a message that I do not yet know how to interpret? Laf died. His truck is dying. The dishwasher died. All the specialty light bulbs in this place have blown in the past month. And now my watch battery.

Tuesday afternoon, April 6, 2004 ~
Sitting here sobbing like a damned fool. The truck won't fit on the auto transport. What do I do now? Huh, Lion?

Monday, April 5, 2004 ~
Down to 23 days left here. The past 3 months have been a blur. If it's Monday, it must be errand-running and bill-paying day. Chris took pity upon this would-be female mechanic and put the sealant and antifreeze in the truck for her last night. I wasn't thrilled with his smirk as he pulled the oil stick out, wiped it and said I have antifreeze mixing with oil. Please cross your fingers for me and pray the truck makes it through the month.

Friday, April 2, 2004 ~
I woke up at 7 a.m. to the sound of Bobby's guitar. THIS morning, I did not let it go. I donned my robe, went out my front door, and as he was sitting facing his wide open door, he saw me immediately. I asked him to PLEASE close his door. My bedroom window is directly outside his door. He apologized and closed his door, but the damage was done. He's lucky the Lion is no longer alive because Laf would have had his head. I woke up with my stomach in knots. The more I do, the longer my list gets. I have 13 boxes of books alone and will end up with at least 10 to 12 more. I cannot imagine how I will fit all of this stuff in the truck or how I will be able to also clean the place in time. Today will be an errand day with a trip to the grocery store and to the storage unit to get more boxes. If the truck makes it.

I went to forum yesterday and saw Rebecca's post. I always read old to new, and I knew she didn't realize at first. She hasn't posted in close to 2 years - maybe more. I did make the time to write her yesterday and thank her again. I didn't post to Bar's "Katlick" joke, but it was funny. I just went in again, but I froze listening to the music and looking at the Lion and remembering. I received a beautiful letter from one of our mutual friends last night. The letter brought tears to my eyes, but it made me smile too, when she told me that yes, I should cover Laf's ashes when I cross the Mason-Dixon Line.

Monday, March 29, 2004 ~
Things other than packing took precedence today. Bill-paying, which is even less fun, was the task in order. I discovered today that I do not even have enough left for the website. The move will cost a small fortune, especially as the lion's truck will have to be towed on the back of the moving truck. Right now, I am bemoaning the lion's dysfunctional family, their refusal to help me with expenses, and the fact that I disregarded the advice of the ages to NEVER loan money to friends.

Why is it that men do not understand that women need to do girl things without them? "Honey, I'm going to go over to Joe's house to watch the basketball game." "Ok." How often will you hear the woman say, "But I want to go, too?"

I have an idea. How 'bout astric sell all those tools she said she would return? I could pay for the lion's website with that. God, didn't he know anyone at all whose word was good? I fear not.

An invitation came in the mail today to attend an Interfaith Memorial Service honoring the lives of Loved Ones who received Hospice Care. I wish I could go, my lion.

I sat in the back of the church this Sunday, looking at the space where you were bundled in your wheelchair. I could see the faces of all those who stopped especially for you to wish you a "Merry Christmas." And it was, in a bittersweet way, a Merry Christmas, if only for a few hours.
Laf's computer is not feeling well. The drive is full and I've been going through files, not begrudging Nancy or Marti their feelings or the fun they had with the Lion. I try to save what I can in case they ever want to reread anything, but so much has to go as I try to save what is left of my ability to use that computer.

8 o'clock comes and goes. So much for a call from my son, I guess.

It is way past time to start a new journal page, but that will have to wait. I don't even want to visit any of my own pages anymore. I've had no time to work on them in close to a year. There are some that will go. I will keep Ivy's Dad's page as long as I can, of course, but my affiliation with Diva of the Net has long been over and I am wasting precious space keeping the files for those pages at Tripod.

I went out to try to start the Lion's gas grill, but the smell of propane was strong and seemed to be coming from the tank. I am worried that something is wrong with the connection. I was going to try to sell it. Now I am not sure what to do with it. The saddle tree he used for plants on the front porch is cast iron and cannot be moved (at least by me). The Wildman made that. I wrote to him about it, but again, I don't know what to do. Maybe he will write back or send friends to get it. I told him I'd rather he have it, then have to sell or leave. Leaving it would not put me in good stead with the landlord, that's for sure. It would take at least 3 powerful men to move it.

Is it still the same day? Hope, you'll get a kick out of this. I HAD to forward something you sent me awhile back and this was the result: Life with Rugger If he's changed it before you read this, read "Who has THIS mother?" I laughed my behind off.

Saturday morning, March 27, 2004 (Day 8)~
The hovel is such a mess right now that I can't tell if I've made any progress.

Tuesday, March 23, 2004 ~
Can I start over? On Day 2, I rested. On Day 3, I pondered the fact that when I moved to Georgia, I had a 24' truck that was completely full. I purchased a washer and dryer, 4 bookshelves, a desk, and a make-up table after I got here. I moved in with a pack rat and I have 2 10X20' storage units full of stuff. Now, it is very easy for all of my friends to say, "sell stuff," but that isn't as easy as it sounds. I need "muscle" and I need support, neither of which is available.

The heat came on again during the night. I shouldn't complain. It hit single digits again in upstate NY and there will be plenty of time to gripe when I move back there.

According to a new report, nicotine may cure CRS!

More phone calls to doctors' offices, more copies of this and that, more faxes. Maybe I should apply for a supervisory position with Medicaid. The first thing I would do is fire at least 50% of current employees. The second thing would be to write myself a check for reimbursement for two years' time spent fixing everything they screwed up.

Saturday, March 20, 2004 ~
I had a rough few minutes the other night when I posted the above. Sadness seems to come at times when I am least expecting it and it overwhelms me. I finally had let Ayo sit with me and he stood up straight against my chest, resting his chin on my shoulder, and I just lost it.

Today's chores will be a mish mosh of "normal" and of packing. I blew yesterday off completely and spent all of my day researching my neighbor's family. She was adopted and although she knows who her mother is, she is clueless about her birthfather. Her adoptive dad removed papers from his house and put them in a safety deposit box. I found a connection between the two families which may explain the secrecy. While I was in some of the genealogy sites, I looked for "Sunshine," (Nancy) the Lafster's old childhood sweetheart. I have photo albums here which may belong to her. Sunny used to post at forum, but she and Laf stopped communicating after awhile. She was still with him when I met him at Washington Watch. I would like for her to have her pictures as I'm sure they mean a lot to her.

It's somewhat ironic that Bunny has disappeared again. Doncha think?

The dishwasher it took Laf a year to convince me to use will now be missed. The small-leafed oaks will not be missed. I especially will not miss the billions of tiny acorns they drop. They litter the hardened clay in the back and and I feel like I'm maneuvering on marbles.

Thursday, March 18, 2004 ~
9:45 a.m. The lawns were mowed this morning. The first cutting of the year. Spring in Georgia was J's favorite time. I sit here at my desk, nursing my OJ as I do every morning, feeling frozen in time. The breeze flows in through the windown, brushing bare leg. The scent of freshly cut grass is strong. I study the light value outside the kitchen window. I want to hold these moments, but realize I will soon be left with only vague visual impressions of my brief time here. My children work minute-by-minute through their busy days. I think of each child and wonder how clearly each has seen their mother's heart. My husband sees only his own. It has always been that way and perhaps it is for the best. I've been sitting here for a full hour, doing nothing at all. Just thinking, feeling, remembering. But it is late. I'm hungry. I miss you, my lion.

Ayo climbed on my back while I was putting on make-up, then settled on my pile of clean clothes on the bed. He follows me from room to room wanting to be near me. I feel guilty as I haven't given him any attention lately. We had a few rain drops - not even enough to dampen but a few spots on the pavement. I stopped to play a few notes on the organ. Perhaps I will teach myself to play when I return to NY.

Spent the afternoon calling various places about medical bills. And Laf's old Home Depot problem incurred when he was with Gladys. That one is gone and will be written off. I had luck with with all I've called so far, with the exception of the Eye Institute, which I will have to call tomorrow morning, as they were closed today. I'm sure there will be more bills from more places, but I did make a good start. I need to do this for him, even though everyone keeps telling me it is no longer my responsibility.

It requires a very unusual mind to undertake the analysis of the obvious. A. N. Whitehead

I have to post this photo of my son. He caught a punch across the bridge of his nose before he proceeded to lay someone flat for distressing a female friend of his.


Tears flow tonight. Oh God...why?

Saturday, March 13, 2004 ~
The evening did not go as planned. My techie friend showed up at my door shortly five and didn't leave until almost 8. I got Connor's music on his page and called him on my FAX line to let him know. His mother is displeased with the amount of time he's spent online since I taught him how to make his page, so I wrote him an email suggesting he find other things to do as well. My husband had messaged me on and off while watching a Stephen King movie and I got back to him after Todd left. He mentioned something about the computer in the upstairs office he never uses and as I was already tired, it was not a good issue for him to bring up then. That computer was a Christmas gift to Connor from Laf and me two years ago and the family has been hiding the fact that my daughter (Connor's mom) gave it to my husband to use, so it's a sore point with me right now.

I fell asleep in the recliner and woke up at 6 and went to bed. It took me so long to get back to sleep that I got up late. It is after noon and I am still in my robe. BUT, I did manage to locate the phone problem myself and got all 8 working again this morning. It's cool in here. I forgot to close the kitchen window before I nodded off, so I'm sure the heat blasted away all night. I have errands to run and church in the morning, but I'm getting more nervous about taking the truck out at all. My neighbor's boyfriend thinks it is leaking brake fluid on top of all the rest of the problems. I will take it to the shop Monday and prepare for the bad news.

Friday morning, March 12, 2004 ~
Ayo is curled up on my lap as I write. Strange dreams came to me last night. I remember being at some public function. Gabe, who made his first appearance in a dream, was performing with classmates. He was self-possessed as he stood with his peers and said the Pledge of Allegiance. The function seemed to change to a family one, with distant relatives I did not know and I was escorted into a room where two men asked me to contribute money to help pay for what now seemed to be a funeral and I reacted in anger. The dream disturbed me enough to wake me up. I've written here for many years now and must admit that although I have been honest throughout this journal, I have also been vague in much of what I've said. The need to write in that manner has always bothered me. Laf used to read here and come to me with questions. Some of what I said bothered him at times, but he learned from me as I learned from him. I never told him that I spoke with his son. It would have hurt him so much to know that Arden and I had email conversations. I even quoted something Arden said to me in this journal and deliberately attributed it to an anonymous source. Father Dan says I gave the Lion peace; that for some reason God wanted me with him for the last years of his life, but the one thing I wanted for him, I failed to give him. I wanted father and son to know each other again.

I am still waiting for the ALLTEL phone repairman, which is ridiculous. I found an interesting forum International Network on Personal Meaning, and encourage you to read there if you have the time. I feel as though I am re-entering a life situation which will allow for little personal space, which is the reason I left it to begin with. The needs of the Lion were many and I had little time for myself, but he appreciated and celebrated the person I am, not some ideal he wanted me to conform to. We did not require anything of each other except for each to strive for personal excellence in all we did. That persistance, that drive, that constant search for knowledge is, in fact, what brought us together. Life was never boring. There was spontaneity and delight in our mutual interests and there were few things, if any, that did not interest us. Although his disorders caused his past to play an important role in his life, he did not live in the past. He thrived on new ideas, new experiences - anything that made him think and he loved sharing his discoveries with his writing and his music. Life and all it had to offer excited him, thrilled him. And it was contageous. There will never be another Laf.

Thursday, March 11, 2004 ~
I don't know why I thought Ayo might dis me when I returned to Georgia. He has glued himself to me. I waited all afternoon for the telephone repairman. I finally called them again and listened to the rep's sob story. Evidently, they are always delayed in my area, so I am rescheduled for a visit from them tomorrow. I guess that gives me more time to try disconnecting and unplugging all 8 phones. I spent the afternoon cleaning and listening to country. The Lion loved almost every kind of music, but he was a country boy at heart. I found 3 drowned squirrels in a barrel of rainwater. I used the shovel to toss them over the fence where they can rot in peace. The odor was enough to make me gag. I am already sensing the confines of the cage. I've been told that I must sever all ties to everyone I know here. Is that how I must spend the rest of my life?

I had an odd call from some county jail on my answering machine when I returned and I am fearful that the Wildman may be behind bars.

Daughter Gretchen tells me that her twin has decided to be induced next Tuesday after the results of her last ultrasound showed the baby (Daniel Christopher) to be 9 lbs. Gretchen laughed when she told me Janna's husband had requested St' Paddy's Day, but as Gretchen has Tuesday off, her request for the 16th was granted.

Gabe is feeling better, thank God. The doctor wasn't sure if he had viral pneumonia, so it had to be reported to his school. The poor little guy was so sick before I left.

I helped Connor start his website. We published it so he could show his friends at school, but the page isn't done and I will help him work on it from here as best I can. I love you, Connor!

Wednesday, March 3, 2004 ~
Less than a week left here in NY. A sigh escapes me as I note the 80 degree temps in Georgia. I am truly loathe to give that up. The morning is quiet. Bruce and Nate left for work hours ago and Kate and Aidan are asleep. I walk around this old house, seeing little but the work that should have been done over the years. I mentioned the leaks in the stone foundation last night and he said, "Oh that's easy to fix." We bought this house in 1982. It should have been fixed years ago.

Wednesday, February 25, 2004 ~
Up late again after a restless night. I woke up with an image of a U Haul truck in my head. It is against my nature to give up, but the Lion left me little choice. The truck transmission was the last straw and I don't have the luxury of time to think things out anymore.

There is still, however, the question of my husband's girlfriend. As I leave here to stay with daughter Janna for a few days, his girlfriend comes to visit her daughter who lives next door. Bruce allows her to keep her dog here during those visits (yuk). When he and I first sat down to talk, he immediately started telling me all the things about her he doesn't like, but then turned around and told me that they "do" things and go out a lot. He knows the kids aren't crazy about her and that they simply tolerate her controlling ways, so we'll see what happens. I haven't met her daughter, but her son-in-law, Casey, dropped by on a spy mission. He seems quite pleasant.

Aidan got his first bath and was NOT happy. It took 4 hands and I forgot to take a picture.

Tuesday, February 24, 2004 ~
Kate puts Aidan in his car seat. She will leave to run errands. Enya plays softly in the background. Between my husband's stack of oldies and my son's comedy, Enya was the only thing I could find that I care to listen to. This old house needs new life. It is too quiet. What shall become of me if I cannot be true to my heart? Shall the nightingale give up her song for all of eternity?

Bruce's conference is over early and he heads to bed for a nap. The more things change, etc., etc. Daughter Janna calls to ask if I have any special requests for foods as I will be heading to stay with her for a few days. My visit is half over now and although I've tried to relax and not think about all that is awaiting me when I return to Georgia, the pressure is returning. I'm not good at sitting and doing nothing, so I've spent time shoveling and chopping ice, doing Nate's laundry, collecting trash and taking it outside, doing dishes. I forgot to send Nola more pictures of Gabe and will try to remember to do that before I leave tomorrow. Hope, I am so sorry. There is just too much unnecessary tragedy in our lives. Bun, it may make you feel better to know Nate has the same problems with msn messenger that you have. I'm hoping things are still on for the 28th?

Monday, February 16, 2004 ~
Things I do not miss about NY: The cold. Snow. It is so cold in this house that I feel like I'm sitting with my feet in a bowl of ice. I am being treated to a turkey club from Steve's Place, then we will head back to Albany to Gret's. I promised Connor we would make Cracker Jacks tonight. Rob put the Cracker Maker together the other night, but we discovered we were out of popcorn, so we will make it tonight instead. Rob, Connor, and I played Cranium. Gabe was my partner and as it turned out, I won because of him. He guessed Connor's charade and Rob and I just looked at each other, mouths hanging open. So, amidst some amount of protest from Connor, I told Gabe he could play and he did quite well, although Rob, who was getting ready to go out had to help him with reading.

Hope, if I made snow angels for ya, I'd break something. There's ice under all that snow.

Friday, February 13, 2004 ~
Strange, sitting in my old study at the house in NY. The flight up was an easy one. It was the night before I left Georgia that was insane with the Wildman showing up at 10:30 at night when I was trying to pack. He discovered he'd been given a valet key for his rental truck, so I had no choice but to put him up for the night. Daughter Janna met me at the airport with flowers and the most gorgeous child. If it is possible, Evie is even more beautiful than the photographs of her that I have up at the hovel. We drove to Gret's, where I would be staying for the first half of my visit and I was greeted by her fiance and Connor and Gabe. Connor had made a "Welcome Babboo" sign with a photograph of the 2 of us a few years back and Gabe kept looking at me and telling me I was different. But, he was too little to have much more than vague memories and my hair is no longer short and I was wearing my glasses. "I like you!" He said over and over. Janna's husband joined us and Janna and Rob prepared a big pork chop dinner, complete with M & M-covered chocolate cake for dessert. The boys gave me the tour and Evie named body parts and we played and cuddled and chatted until late. I tried to stay awake so I could see Gretchen when she came home from work at 2, but just couldn't do it after no sleep the night before (thank you very much, Barry). I got a tour of Gabe's classroom the following afternoon and read his "I Spy" book with him and helped with his bath, then listened to Connor read a required page in a novel. Janna, Gretchen and I had a "Girls' Night In," watching Amelie, which we all thought was great and worthy of the nominations it has received. I love watching Gretchen and Janna together. They get along in a way only twins can. I overslept the day. The afternoon quickly turned to evening and Bruce came with Valentine gifts for me, Gret and the boys. He and I left to head north to the house where Nate and Kate were waiting. Nate made bacon-wrapped shrimp and pasta with white sauce, which was fabulous. Kate looks gorgeous as usual. She is HUGE! She had a dr. appt. this morning, but was told she could go another week. Bruce was undecided about whether to go through with his plans to see his "friend." I told him to make the trip. He was feeling somewhat uncomfortable. More on that later. I'm typing on Nate's computer. He, at least, has cable modem. I kept getting knocked off Gret's puter and had to pick times to use the Net that wouldn't interfere with phone calls. It will just be Nate and me for dinner tonight. Kate is heading to her girlfriend's for dinner. We will go to the store first and maybe I can return Nate's favor and make him dinner tonight. We went to "The Lagoon" last night and listened to him perform and I think he heads back there tonight. And, yes, folks, it EEZ VERRY VERRY COLD and getting colder.

Saturday, February 7, 2004 ~
I did write here yesterday, but the entry got lost in computerland. Time is short now, but still, I am having a problem moving. I don't feel like doing anything. Lutfy came with the battery charger. He is always so positive about everything and that is something I'm having a difficult time feeling right now. I sit here and look around the room. I can still see the lion cooking in the kitchen. I can see him watching TV in his recliner or bent over his keyboard, unaware that I'm watching him from the doorway. But he is not here.

Thursday, February 5, 2004 ~
Rushing now to do all I can do before I leave. Lutfy called to tell me he'd left the camera on the front porch at 3 this morning. Unfortunately, he forgot to put the battery charger in the bag, so I had to call him back. Another thing I can't quite cross off my to-do list until, perhaps, Saturday, when he has promised to come back. Lisa will help me out tonight when we will go to the funeral home one last time to pick up the bookmarks I had made, instead of putting the obituary in the paper. The Wildman continues to ignore my phone calls. I've lost track of the number of messages I've left for him. We are back to wind and rain, so I will spend the day here packing up and cleaning until I drop. The windows never got done last year, but they will have to wait until I return. There will be no help with transportation to and from the airport. I'd been hoping someone would volunteer, but at the same time, my flight is in the middle of the work week, so I couldn't really expect help with that. I will make those final arrangements today. Then I will pray. A lot. Any delays at all with bus or shuttle could cause me to miss my flight.

After 1:30 a.m. Thursday, February 5, 2004 ~
I haven't even eaten supper yet. I ran errands this morning and shortly after I returned, Father Dan called, wondering if he could stop by. If I do decide to leave Georgia, he will be the one I miss most here. He visited and we talked mostly about me, although I have questions I would like to ask him about him, as well. Most of the priests in my life have been older and have used their homilies to ask for money or to sell raffle tickets to have dinner with Father Bauer. Father Dan is different. He is conservative and thoughtful and uses every bit of life to learn. I did make him smile today, I think, when I said I'd thought about asking him to dinner and wondered if it was appropriate. He said with a grin, "Well, I do eat." I apologize, Father. Maybe I've seen too many movies. But you make me feel good about me and I need that.

I've had problems sleeping lately, but for some reason, after Father left, I felt tired suddenly and I relaxed in the recliner and actually surprised myself by sleeping until 8:30. I was disoriented when I woke up, though, as I'm not used to napping at that time of night. I left a message for my neighbor across the street and she did return the call. I appreciate greatly that she agreed to watch Ayo while I am gone. She warned me about some break-ins here, of which I was completely unaware, so I will double-check my locks at night. Cousin Elizabeth is back online and I'm glad, for I've missed emailing back and forth as we have time. My daughter messaged me tonight and asked if I am excited about my visit to NY. I am, more than she will ever know. (I get the impression that she is too..and I'm glad). My son was fixing dinner for himself and his sister and somehow that made me feel good. He said, "I cook. She cleans. It works."

Tuesday, February 3, 2004 ~
The discovery of ricin in Frist's office and the suspicious powder found in Wallingford make me more nervous than I already am. I haven't been able to get up in the morning. I wake up an hour before the alarm and think about getting up. Then I turn the alarm off and think about getting up. Then I put my robe on and climb back into bed. I just want the world to go away for a little while. It's ironic, when I think about how hard I struggled during the past two years to not let the real world slip away, and now, I just wish it would.

The sun is trying hard to peek out from the heavy cloud cover. We had rain and wind and ice yesterday. Lutfy had called around 4:30 to say he was on his way here, but he didn't come and I was worried. He finally called around 9:30 to say the roads were so bad on the way from Atlanta that he'd just driven home. I was just glad he was safe. We talked for a long time. He wanted to know how I was spending my days. "Describe your day to me," he said. I think he gives me more credit for being energetic than I am currently due.

On January 3rd at 11 p.m., the hospice nurse was here with me, helping to "arrange" the lion in his hospital bed. She put down the official time of death as 10:46, one hour after he actually died. She asked me if I'd signed the DNR. I had and gave it to her. It wouldn't have made any difference, really. I knew calling 911 wouldn't do any good. Then she asked me for his box of meds and checked all the narcotics and flushed them, as she was required to do. She sat at the kitchen table doing paperwork. I thought she was still involved in our paperwork, but she told me that she had finished that and was just "hanging" with me to keep me company for a bit. She helped me make calls about arrangements, then left to see another patient and I waited for the funeral director to come. He and his assistant arrived at 3 a.m. and brought the lion's body out to the stretcher in the living room, where they covered him with a beautiful velvet cloth. I held the door for them as they wheeled him out to the van and stood at the door until they pulled out and up the hill. When I closed the door, I just remember the deafening silence. As I write this, the TV is on and the dishwasher is noisy in the kitchen, but still, the silence lurks and is louder than any real sound.

Superbowl Sunday, February 1, 2004 ~
I keep meaning to change the channel long enough to find out who's playing. I will admit right now that I could not care less. Just shoot me.

It's funny. Bun said she could not find a resemblance between Laf and Bobby Reno. To me, that photo and the one I posted of Laf at the top of forum show more of a resemblance that almost any other picture I could put there. The Lion used to say he had multiple personalities. He didn't, really, but if you looked at one photo next to another, he looked so different, you'd swear it was not the same person. At the hovel, I had Laf with his teeth and Laf without his teeth (sorry sweetie). He looked completely different. With his teeth, he could look like the cold, arrogant lion or at the same time, the "cub," Lion who loved life and all it had to offer. Without his teeth, he would like an old, comfy bear and his persona of the moment would match how he looked. I have some pictures where he had put on so much weight he looked bloated and not like my Lion at all. And others where he had lost so much weight and was so thin that he looked entirely different again. That's one of the reasons I so love the photo my cousin took - the one I posted at forum. He looked healthy and happy and at a perfect weight.

Thursday, January 29, 2004 ~
Bun is trying to teach me how to be my own mechanic. Supposedly, if I open the hood, I will see something that says transmission fluid. I see how much is in there and if it is low, then I buy some? Sounds simple enough.

Maybe. Maybe not. Took the truck up to Bulldog. Needs oil change badly. Down a qt. on transmission fluid and leaking antifreeze somewhere. I'd forgotten about that. The engine had been running hot last spring. Have an appt for oil change in an hour. So the vehicle maintenance dummy is getting her first lesson. A harsh one, it would seem. The transmission is slipping and he recommended taking it to someplace over near the farm. Life is grand.

Wednesday, January 28, 2004 ~
I posted here this morning and supposedly it saved, but I come in here tonight and find that it didn't. I made flight arrangements yesterday and will be heading to NY in a couple of weeks. I had to laugh as one of my twins called to ask if I would mind getting the kids off to school in the morning because her boss had changed her hours. Isn't that what I'd be doing anyway? In my robe at her house at 7 a.m.? Bun is doing what she can to help. I'd had a question for Hope that I put here this morning, but that obviously hadn't gone through. I haven't opened the last 3 emails from you, hon. Wanted to make sure you didn't get this new virus before I opened. I had a teary afternoon at DFACS. I'd received a letter from them saying food stamps would be discontinued on the 31st. I hadn't even tried to use the EBT card since the Lion died, thinking it would have been illegal, but this letter made me wonder if something might still be available. So I went to DFACS to ask. I had to wait a full hour while watching some lady's kids. She hadn't asked me, but had just sent them back to the waiting room. Her daughter was probably around 7 and the baby was maybe 18 months. The daughter took the baby outside and I went out and made her bring him back in. I expressed my concern to the case handler for Laf, but she didn't do anything. I can only pray the mother came out and the kids were ok. Anyway, to make a long story short, no, I cannot use the stamps remaining. She gave me an app for me and some other info and numbers to call for help. She did at least close the door, as I lost it talking about the entire situation. I stopped at one of the storage units to look for something I could bring home and go through. Of course, the box of papers I chose, collapsed and spilled its contents all over the floor, but I gathered them and got them back here.

I unplugged the keyboard yesterday and set it against the wall. That was so hard for me to do. Laf left the keyboard to my son with instructions that he teach me how to use it. Will you ever do that, Nate? I don't dare touch anything on it.

Father Dan told me to ask for God's guidance each morning when I wake up. I do. But I don't know what He (the Keeper of the Stars) wants me to do yet. I just don't know. And I have tears tonight ~ so many tears.

I was thinking that perhaps I owe astric an apology here, but I tried so hard with her to make her understand and she wouldn't listen. She was cruel to me and still, I tried. It didn't seem to make much difference to her because she couldn't separate me from the Lion. I understood that, but it didn't make things any easier.

And with all the conversations I've had with Ms. horsecrazee as of late, I keep forgetting to ask her how much she thinks I could get for a saddle (Whiskey's) in good condition and a 3 tier cast iron saddle tree made by the Wildman hisself.

Monday, January 26, 2004 ~
The weather is still lousy. I slept in the recliner for the second time this week after actually going to the trouble of making myself a huge meal and downing most of it. I woke up a few times, but Ayo, who had been sleeping on my legs, kept creeping up to steal my breath and I would hide my face and fall back to sleep. I'm joking, of course. I think he just tries to determine if my breathing has changed and if it has, does that mean it is time for me to get up and feed him. I crawled into bed around 5 a.m. because it is important to pretend that I've at least slept in the bed and that I wake up in my nightgown and not in my clothes. I called the Wildman last night and reminded him that my rent is due. He said he'd get over here in the next few days, but I won't hold my breath. I spent the morning writing to my husband as he asked me to, but will have to go to the Post Office to mail it because it won't fit in the mailbox slot at the top of the hill. I am still undecided about how long to make the trip to NY last. The twins have already split me up between them :) But I have no more time to think about it and need to "just do it."

Sunday, January 25, 2004 ~
It's funny. As I listen to this song, I remember he had a hard time with it. Sometimes when you arrange sad songs, it is necessary to pull sadness from your soul. He was happy when he did this one and for the life of him couldn't slow it down. It was around this same time that he did "Where Y'at, Bro Jean?" He played "Frere Jacques" so many times in a row, that I went to the office and told him that it was no wonder Beethoven had remained single.

It's a raw, rainy day here in Georgia. Quiet, except the wind chimes. It was a quiet week. I worked without stopping. The court case, cleaning, deciding what to save and what to throw, trying to organize things here as much as possible so I can begin the process of hauling boxes here from the storage unit. I will have to go through those too. The Lion's computer is not in good shape and I am pulling what I can from that. I wait for items borrowed to be returned, for loans to be repaid and I just keep working, hoping I will be able to stay long enough to take care of the Lion's things as he would have wished. Perhaps longer, but maybe not. I have no idea what the future will bring. The Wildman has not returned for the rest of the Lion's clothing. Bed pads sit by the door waiting for the hospice nurse to come my way. Laf's scooter, which he so loved, still sits outside waiting for someone from the American Cancer Society to pick it up. I need to make flight arrangements, but wonder if I can stay as long as I'd planned. There are just too many things to do here.

Friday, January 23, 2004 ~
It doesn't seem possible that it's been almost 3 weeks now. I've been trying to get either here or to forum once a day or at least every other. Sometimes it's hard for me to remember the lion as he looked in the forum photo. I remember the first time I saw him. He was standing across the room at the top of that very long escalator at the Atlanta airport, wearing, as he'd promised he would, his cowboy hat with the feather. My very first thought was how thin he looked. That hat, which he left to my son, seemed to overwhelm his thin frame. He put on weight after I came. So did I and I used to joke that he'd fattened me up. I spent most of yesterday working on a court case that had been left hanging. I did all I could do, but avoided calls from the client last night. It is so difficult to make him understand what is going on as his English is so limited. But I will call him today and ask him to come on Sunday with his friend who speaks English so I can explain what I did for him.

Captain Kangaroo died. He was such an integral part of my childhood.

There was another reason Laf grew the beard. One day, we walked into the chemo room at the oncologist's office. It was a large room - a community chemo room, I guess, with perhaps ten recliners. We both saw the man at the same time. A little bald man dressed in bib overalls curled up in fetal position. He slept, partially covered with a blanket, as the poison dripped into his veins through the IV. I shifted my eyes away from him and glanced quickly at the Lion. I saw such fear in the Lion's eyes. The only chair available was one that faced the little man and Laf sat down reluctantly. He also slept, or appeared to. He did not want to look at the man. He spoke of him many times after that day. "I don't want to be him," he said. And so the beard.

Wednesday, January 21, 2004 ~
$7.50 an inch for an obituary???? First of all, The Walton Tribune is the worst newspaper I've ever read and it is only published twice a week. So, I will not be putting the Lion's obituary in the newspaper. Instead, a very nice lady at the funeral home said they'd make me some bookmarks with an eagle flying over a mountain with a flag. He would have liked that. The death certificates arrived in the mail today.

Monday, January 19, 2004 ~
11 a.m. The Care Medical van just drove off with the Lion's hospital bed. I think our Hospice nurse waited until this morning to call them to pick it up because she knew Deana was coming and that I would need a bed to sleep in while she was here. The bedroom looks so bare now, but I will pull my little bed into the center of the room and be able to walk around it for the first time. I'd had to crawl across the bed to get to the dresser. Last night I took the floral arrangements from the funeral apart. I pressed 2 bunches between waxed paper. One arrangement is for me. The other I will put away for Laf's son. The Lion left beautiful carved wooden boxes for him and as I go through Laf's things, I save little bits and pieces of his life and place them in those boxes.

I have received hugs and loving words from some members of his family, angry words, I'm sure, from one in an email I chose to leave unopened. I am tired of the old anger in the Lion's family. It serves no purpose. And there is no sense of family responsibility, as there always has been in my own. I remember a great uncle who died with no money for burial or a headstone and the family came together and raised the money between them. That is one thing I have noticed here in the South. The sense of family and community that exists in the North is difficult to find here. I'm sure there must be some of that here, but I have yet to see it. My neighbor across the street is from Utica, NY, and he said the same thing. There is a lack of community spirit here. I get tired of the Jehovah Witnesses and the Baptists who bang on my front door and who want me to allow them to come in to preach to me the Word of the Lord. If they spent more time doing instead of talking, there would be so much less need.

Laf made his nephew and the Wildman promise they would take care of me. One is still a child and the other can't take care of himself, although he promises me his company will be listed with Fortune 500 by this time next year. Of course, he tells me he also wants us to go to Arkansas and search for Bigfoot.

A client calls. He speaks little English. He knows Laf died, but wants to know when his court date is. I tell him to come next Sunday. That gives me a week to become a paralegal?

Deana and I had a pleasant, low-key weekend. Except the drive through Snellville (where everybody's somebody) in the pouring rain. We drove too far and ended up in Stone Mountain Park. She is legally blind in her left eye and my vision isn't particularly great. We managed to find our way back to where we were going. We'd already enjoyed a great meal at Ruby Tuesday's and were blowing off time until the movie was to begin. We made a stop at Office Max. One of the clerks overheard me telling her I needed cheap desk calendars and said, "The cheap desk calendars are at the end of the checkout!" I got 2. We headed to the theater, where we laughed and cried (well, I did, at least) through "Something's Gotta Give." How did the writers know the story of the last two years of my life? I am left with the vision of Jack Nicholson suddenly sitting forward and asking "Am I nuts????!! It's the only thing I'm not taking medicine for yet!" "Just wait," I thought.

The funeral home called me to follow up and ask if everything was going ok. I wanted to yell, "NO!" I didn't, of course. They had called me Friday to tell me the death certificates had come in and they would be mailing them. I mentioned that to her and then I told her that the director had not shown me any urns, probably because he knew I was already distressed by having to bear the cost of the cremation alone. She told me to stop in and they would show me some that would not cost me too much. Father Dan told me the church preferred to have the ashes buried and there is a family plot in South Carolina, but I told him the Lion wanted me to tell his ashes a joke once a year on his birthday, so I'm not sure what I will do yet. The lion's remains sit on the organ bench in a bright red gift bag. When we all returned here to the hovel after the funeral, I walked in with the bag and said, "Now where do I put this?" Laf's sister-in-law said, "Here. Give it to me." And she placed him on the coffee table in the center of the room. "He always wanted to be the center of attention," she laughed. Wanted to be? He just WAS.I'm thinking if Lutfy gets his behind over here with the digital as I have now asked him twice to do, I will take a picture of the gift bag and put it on the top of forum on Laf's birthday. I can warn everyone and let them know it's coming and to prepare themselves with a joke for the the Lion. He would have loved it. Would that be in bad taste?

This is the reason I need to find a way to fly home. I call it "Gret is not pregnant. Hah! Photo"



And then I have very special thanks to Gladys, the Lion's ex, for her beautiful floral arrangement sent to St. Anna's and to my husband (who is still my husband) for his offer of help in re: Kate's baby shower this coming weekend and a few other things as well. Thank you, Bruce. I don't deserve it, but you have my gratitude.

Friday, January 16, 2004 ~
Evening. Awaiting my Tallahassee cousin's arrival. She called from Albany, GA at 5:30 with still 170 miles to go. I told her I was making one of our grandmother's holiday desserts and she laughed and asked if I was, perhaps, boiling something. And I am. Grandma Exford always made a can of condensed milk pudding for the holidays. It was simple enough - just put an unopened can of condensed milk in a pot of water and boil it for 3 hours, always making sure the can is covered with water. One year she forgot it on the stove and it took her a week to clean up the mess on the ceiling after the can exploded. Daughter Gretchen sent me a post-Christmas box of goodies and Deana's visit is the perfect occasion for the pudding. I took boxes of Christmas things to the storage unit this afternoon, tearing up as I loaded them into the truck. On New Year's Day, the Lion awoke to ask me if it was Christmas Eve or Christmas. He couldn't keep days and nights straight by then. But he had been with me on Christmas and he enjoyed opening the gifts I'd picked out for him knowing he would never read the book or watch the movie. The pole lamp did give us more space, however, with all the medical equipment in the bedroom, and he was grateful for that. Our neighbor, Chris, from across the street, came over and hooked up the DVD player and the lion watched "We Were Soldiers," one of the 2 DVDs I chose for him. It was the last movie he watched. After that, his vision blurred and he couldn't see the TV, the clock, or even me. I'd picked up a small wool cap and he wore that until the day before he died. His bald head got cold, he said. I think his favorite present was the beard and moustache trimmer. He'd asked me weeks before to shave him and I was hesitant to do that. I'm not handy with sharp objects at all. So, his five o'clock shadow grew and I told him he looked good in a beard. "Really? You really think so?" He became quite fond of that beard and had fun with the trimmer. I gave the trimmer to my son when he was here. If you've been to forum, you've seen what I did earlier this evening. I was fine until I finished, then I broke down. And yes, I cut myself out of the photo, which was taken by Deana summer before last. The Lion looked great then, flirting with 200 lbs., watching the scales constantly to make sure he didn't go over. And he was happy then, too.

My dearest angel, "Sage,"
If you're reading this, I am no longer with you and I am sorry to leave you alone and in the lurch. That was never my plan. I really did look forward to a long time with you. There were so many beautiful things I wanted to share with you.
There were walks in the woods I wanted to take with you, though I don't get to do much walking of any kind anymore. Even a short stroll holding your hand was like a magical trip to adult Disneyland for me. There were places I wanted you to see and share with me because they were special to me. I am so sorry I cheated you of those treasures.
The song I have been working on was especially to tell you how special you have been to me in this past year. You got the raw deal with me and that has bothered me so greatly. I wish it could have been otherwise. The song says that you fit into my life and how much I like that. It's true. You moved into a space that was carved from a whole long and sad history of hurts and wrongs done to me. You filled up those spaces with you and love and made them hurt a whole lot less. Thank you so much, my "Sage." I really was glad I got you.
You said in your journal there was one thing you wanted to know and didn't. You needed me to give you that assurance, but you also understood how difficult it was for me to allow myself to feel love and real trust. That way brought me lots of hurt over many years. I didn't want to jinx what you and I had, so I didn't want to mess it up or even take a chance I might. But, yes, I did love you in my own way. I also trusted you, something I swore I would never do with any female ever again. You won me over just by being you.
I am so sorry that I am leaving you with the debris of my life to tidy up. Do the best you can and know that whatever you decide to do will be right with me. I trust you and your judgment has always been impeccable except in the case of hitching your wagon to my falling star. Besides, I love you and that means you have all the leeway on earth.
Smile a little smile and remember that I was proud and did the best I could to stay here. I just wasn't strong enough this time. When you listen to my music or read my words, know that they sing the songs my heart sings for you in your heart.
Lion

The Lion wrote this on April 28th of last year. He didn't think he would make it out of the biopsy and he almost didn't. I never opened his letter until a few days after he died.

Thursday, January 15, 2004 ~
Evening ~ I wrote yesterday morning, but my puter was not being cooperative and nothing was saved here. I spent much of the first part of the day recuperating from the evening before when the computer guy showed up on the heels of the Wildman. The evening was insane. The computer guy hid at the lions' puter as the Wildman got rip-roaring drunk and did one-handed pushups on the living room floor for me. I will say no more about the evening, except that I should have accepted Father Dan's invitation to Mass and coffee after. Our hospice nurse came to collect more medical equipment. I would have liked to have her stay for awhile to chat, but the Lion's cousin called to see how I was doing. We chatted for a short while. She and her husband are looking for a new computer and I hope to see her back online soon. I've missed our email relationship. My own cousin called to ask if I was still up for her visit this weekend and of course I told her yes. I have enjoyed getting to know her again over the past couple of years. Deana is closer in age to my sister, so the two of them were off and on playmates as children. My husband called, as well, wanting to know how I am doing. We had a good talk. Today, I have been alone for the first time. Completely alone. No knocks at the door. No phone calls. I filled more bags with the Lion's clothing for the Wildman and began switching closets, as I'd elected to keep my things in the office closet. I went through meds and bags of things we collected at various hospitals. I used the lion's puter to save archived forum posts, making it only through page 10 (going backwards). I found the other Logitech mouse and switched mine for that one. I unplugged the hospital bed. I worked all day without stopping, but I am losing steam.

Tuesday, January 13, 2004 ~
Laf despised the 13th day of ANY month. Ayo is irritating me this morning and I point my finger at him and tell him, "no!" as he tries to sit on my left arm. The poor thing is just lonely and wants his head and belly rubbed, but I am not in the mood. Our computer guy called last night just to chat and I invited him for dinner tonight (why did I do that?). I want him to look at the lion's puter and see if he can figure out why the sound isn't working. The Wildman will be here sometime to fill out an application for liability insurance for his company. Lisa, our Hospice nurse called yesterday to see how I was doing. I think I was able to reasonably assure her that I am ok, but even I don't know that. I told her the Lion left me with everything but time to mourn. The long distance company calls and asks if I've made a recent payment and I apologize and tell her probably not and why and that I will take care of it and all I can think of is the refusal of Laf's brother to help me with the costs of the cremation and the funeral director wanting Laf's son's signature on the ok for cremation, but for Laf's ex-wife to assure his son that his signature was a legal requirement for cremation and that it did not mean he would be held responsible for payment. How sad that his family would not even bring themselves to help me at the end. An unopened email from his son, written before his father's death, sits in my mailbox. I will leave it that way. I am tired of the anger in that family.

One twin messages me after midnight to discuss wedding plans. The other expects her second in March and my youngest is due in less than a month.

Monday, January 12, 2004 ~
Noon. This cannot turn into a trend. I just got up. Fed Ayo and swept the Wildman's red clay mess off the kitchen floor and got the beer cans off the coffee table, including the half full crushed one. Never wise, either, to leave a ziploc full of bbq chicken on a table overnight when you live with a cat. He came last night to meet a guy who'd agreed to buy something off me - something the Wildman would do federal time for if he was caught carrying it in his truck. The guy didn't show up. The Wildman picked up Laf's copy of "Lafcadio T. Lion, the Lion Who Shot Back" and started to read. I pushed "record" on the tape player, not realizing the thing wasn't plugged in. He was such a fantastic reader, that I could only envy his kids, although I'm sure their bedtime stories were never peppered in quite the same way. But he choked in the middle. The reality of Laf's death hit him and hit him very hard and he sobbed. Then he went for the CC he'd brought last week, chasing every glass of whiskey with a can of beer. He paced back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, gripping a can in each hand. I cried my own tears, some for the Lion, some for the Wildman, some for me and life in general, and a few for the coffee table he was banging the beer cans on as he wailed over his best friend's death. He picked up the book and tried to read some more and gave up to talk to me about the real table dancer he'd fallen for a few years ago. He fiddled with the stereo and couldn't get the radio or the CD player to work, so I turned on the old metal radio in the kitchen so he could listen to his blues. He went out to his truck and came back in with his harmonica and stomped red clay all over the kitchen floor as he accompanied the tunes blasting from the radio. Before he left somewhere around 2 a.m., he hugged me and said it had been one of the most fantastic nights he'd ever had. That's what the lion did to people. He brought out intense emotions, not always a good thing when it was anger or tears, but no one could bring out the natural highs like he did.

I sat in the back of the little church yesterday morning. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I listened to words and music meant to inspire. That's what the lion's gift and greatest desire was, you know, to inspire - to reach the innermost places in your soul and make you feel those places.

Hope, you had the right number. I asked my son to replace Laf's message on the answering machine. I didn't want to. I would have liked to leave the Lion's voice on the recorder. After my father died, there were days when I'd call his house just to hear his voice on his voice mail. But the Lion's message was somewhere around two minutes long in English and in Spanish. He'd been going to change it himself. Just another thing he never got around to doing.

Saturday, 8:30 p.m., January 10, 2004 ~
Random thoughts right now. The phone rang as I was beginning to go through a pile of 30 or 40 pair of slacks. I have caller ID, so I picked up the phone and said, "What size pants do you wear?" The Wildman laughed. "How did you know who was calling? Is that your standard question when you answer the phone?" He's stopping by to look at the rest of the armory and to have his laundry done and get fed, I assume. I am running on empty, for sure, but doing things that must be done. After a hellish morning with a bus to the airport that broke down, my son finally found a way to the airport (I hope). I put in a call to one of my twins to ask her to message me to let me know when he gets in to Albany. The lion's ashes are sitting on the organ bench as I write this. His sister-in-law put them on the coffee table so Laf would be the center of attention (she knew him as well as almost anybody), but Nate moved them last night because he couldn't see the TV.

And all I see in front of me is the lion's face...before he died, after he died, when things were good...I vacuum pine needles from the Christmas tree - and I cry.

Nate fixed the ftp and we got my scanner installed. No time yet to do anything with either.

January 3, 2004 ~
My Lion went home tonight.

Friday, January 2, 2004 ~
It is just before 9 a.m. I went to bed at 3 and woke up at 7. The lion's legs were hurting him and I gave him a pain pill. I stayed in bed until the alarm sounded at 8, but I was just too hyper to sleep. The phone will ring soon. I am expecting Vickie, the hospice-affiliated chaplain, but I'm not sure when she will arrive. She said she is not a morning person and it may be after noon. Which is fine. Lisa, our nurse, will probably call soon, however, so I don't have long to sit. I feel like I am just waiting now. I wish there was someone who could help me with arrangements. Laf's family consists of a son who refused right up until the end to show any compassion toward his father and a brother in South Carolina. His nephew has been a help and comfort, but he is so young and is preparing for a show in Atlanta. So I will do this alone. Friends call from all over the country and from as far away as Australia, but although it is comforting and their thoughts have brought smiles to the lion's face, they cannot be here. Laf lived in a world that is so much different than the one we live in. A world of his own design; one where he could feel safe from hurt. Penni wrote me yesterday to tell me she and her Wiccan friends were going to use their powers today to help release the lion from this world today. Her crystal sits close to Laf on his nightstand. Go work your magick, my friend.

10:40 a.m. Lisa, our hospice nurse just left after being entertained with a few stories from the lion's past. He woke up just in time for her visit. He made both of us laugh, but she told him that he upset her on Wednesday when he said that after he dies, he's going to go for the Big Guy's throat.

Thursday, January 1, 2004 ~
3:50 p.m. I'm not sure why I came here to Journal at this moment. Perhaps I am hoping it will calm me. The lion woke briefly a short while ago. I read him a beautiful letter an old friend of his sent and he smiled and said, "That's nice." He wanted a damned cigarette, but didn't seem awake enough. I put the head of his bed up a little. He'd taken his O2 off. I could hear the horrible congestion in his chest come back and he said he couldn't breathe. I gave him a small dose of liquid morphine in a spoonful of cranberry sauce and then another spoonful of the cranberry to help dispel the horrible taste of morphine. He asked if he could have his coffee now, but I reminded him that yesterday he'd said the coffee tasted bad and he nodded and asked for his sweet tea. I told him I'd give him some in a little bit as I can't give any liquids for 30 minutes after the morphine and he said ok. I told him I was going to put the head of his bed down a little and fix his pillow and he fell asleep. Today is the worst day yet and I have been panicky trying to organize and get things done that should have been taken care of so long ago and I keep wondering if I should call Father Dan and I wish hospice people were here and I also am glad they are not. I keep checking him as I move around the house and he is snoring right now, so at least I know he is sleeping, but I also know it will not be long now at all. He may not last through this first day of the new year.

The lion woke up a little, wanting sweet tea. He's been dozing on and off for the past hour. He asked for a pain pill. I did leave a message on Father Dan's answering machine asking him to come, but I haven't mentioned it to Laf. Laf said he wanted to try to use the walker to get to the office in a few minutes. I don't think that will happen. And he continues to doze.

Father Dan came and heard my confession first, then he annointed Laf and gave us both communion. On his way out, Father looked at me and said I must be a saint. (grin) I had to give Laf more morphine and pain meds and as he was getting cranky, something to calm him down as well. The lion is sitting up and listening to the TV, at least. He says he can't see it, the clock, or me. I am a little calmer myself after the priest's visit and even though the lion is not doing well at all, he is a little better than he was earlier.

Wednesday, December 31, 2003 a.m.~
The lion is slipping even further now, but he still managed a few decent hours yesterday afternoon to take care of some business with the help of his nephew, Lutfy. Lutfy did go through an initial period of shock when he saw his tio. He said, "But I was just here last week! He is dying!" I said, "Yes, Lutfy, he is. You never thought he really would, did you?" Lutfy has been wonderful to both of us. He made himself at home, as he always does when he is here, conducting his own business by cell phone, running errands, helping with his uncle's business. The CNA came yesterday to give the lion a bath and he was in a much better mood, although our nurse had called to tell me to increase medications that helped in that area. Laf's brother called to talk to him and the lion talked to his sister-in-law also, but handed me the phone when discussion of his son became too much for him to bear. I also gave in to the urge I'd had the night before to call cousin Elizabeth in Colorado and we spoke for close to an hour. She said her tentative good-byes to Laf, as well.

It is now 10:30 a.m. on New Year's Eve and I have yet to shower. I am pushing it sitting here as the CNA will come again today, as will our nurse and the chaplain is scheduled for this afternoon.

Obviously, I've had little time to write here. Our ISP has been dropping out and we had no Internet yesterday until last night. If we remain online, perhaps later I will have time to post at forum.

Monday morning, December 29, 2003 ~
I woke up around this 3:30 this morning to check on the lion. He was sleeping and I watched his chest rise and fall for a few minutes before getting up to put his O2 back on him, turn off the TV and switch the lamp to uplighting. As I climbed back into my bed, he woke up. I'd thought he might, which is why I hadn't completely darkened the room. He hadn't taken his sleeping pills. He asked me for a tangerine and told me stories about working horses and being covered with dust in the heat and how good a tangerine tasted then and Nam stories about the corporal who'd once told him he'd make the ugliest corpse and then took it back when he came to see him after he was blown up on April 10, 1969 and declared dead. The corporal told him he'd looked so peaceful...and about the Yard chieftan who'd said how LT was at once mean and gentle. Both Laf and I dozed after that, not really beginning the morning until 9. 3 calls already. One from Optioncare who came to switch out Laf's wheelchair and leave an air pocket mattress, which the nurse and I will have to get on the bed when she comes. The Senior Center called and they will begin Meals on Wheels January 5th. Our nurse, Lisa, called and we discussed a few things. She will be here around noon, which is now only an hour away and I have things to do before she comes.

Sunday night, December 28, 2003 ~
The lion is watching a country music awards show after eating a small bowl of potatoes and onions. It has been a roller coaster kind of day, but life in general (even when the lion was healthier) was always a roller coaster. Calls yesterday from Penni in Utah and Di in Australia and today from Hope in Florida were so greatly appreciated. Hope knows I got somewhat teary today. Laf and I both got teary tonight. He asked me what was wrong when he saw me watching him and I just said, "I'm losing you, lion." He cried and said he was doing the best he could and asked me to hold him. There was no call from hospice today. I don't know if they just don't check in on Sundays or what. Tomorrow they should be here - hopefully to help with a bath and to change the dressing on his bedsore, which is so godawful that just looking at it makes me cry. I would change it myself, but the bandages they left aren't big enough. We may get his hospital bed exchanged for a new one tomorrow - or at least a new mattress with air pockets to help with the sore. Lutfy messaged and said he'd be here Tuesday. He is such a sweetheart.

Saturday, December 27, 2003 ~
Midmorning. I woke up at 5:30. It was dark and I listened intently for the sound of the lion breathing. I heard nothing and crawled to the end of my bed to turn on the low-light lamp. He coughed when the light came on, but remained asleep. I tried to go back to sleep, but could not. I could only think of all he has left me to do and I got out of bed. He woke up at 8 and I made his coffee and chocolate milk. I heated a small sliver of cinnamon roll to cut the taste of the swish and swallow I had to give him and counted out all of his medicines, writing them in the notebook I keep. By 8:45, he was asleep again, his right hand dangling out of the bed, his right foot touching the floor. I curled up on my bed and Ayo joined me, nestling into the crook behind my knees. I wanted to sleep, but waves of hot panic rushed into my stomach and I got up again to come here for a few minutes. At 10 a.m., the lion is awake and the nurse on call checks in to see how he's doing. Had I given him the atavan to help calm him down? Had he slept or eaten? I may as well hit the shower. I am feeling overwhelmed and burned out, but must get past that somehow.

Almost 2 a.m Christmas morning. Yearning for the buffet, I think. The one I didn't have to cook for except cookies. The lion has been cranky today. To say the least. The Wildman came with his kids and was here for several hours. I enjoyed having the kids here. I miss mine. I tried to continue fixing what the lion wanted for Christmas dinner while they were here, but was exhausted by the time they left. But food will be put away now and Ayo will be disappointed when I cover the chicken. The lion will open his presents tomorrow and I will simply wish I didn't have to constantly explain his irritability and agitation. My kids wouldn't ever understand, nor would they accept. Penni, our number has remained the same for 2 years. Bunny has turned out to be less than what I would hope for in a friend. And right now, I don't give two hoots in hell who reads this. I may tomorrow.

Christmas Eve, December 24, 2003 ~
It rained last night. I hadn't been paying attention and the sudden sound of it sent me running to the truck to grab boxes I'd put there yesterday for transport to the storage unit. I ate a late dinner after a call from Hope, then collapsed into bed. I woke up frequently during the night to listen for the lion's breathing. Ayo evidently had fun during the night. I was not a happy camper when I found the cinnamon rolls upside down on the floor and icing stuck on the rug. It's almost 9 a.m. and I will rush to shop for Christmas dinner. Laf told me he would be stuffing the bird. I would like to think he could handle the task, but I think his cooking days are over.

Tuesday, December 23, 2003 ~
Or maybe not ~ Monday was unbelievably horrible. The Guardian Angel van driver was late by about 15 minutes. He was new, at least in our area and he had a pleasant young lady with him who was riding for orientation purposes. The driver proceeded to get lost in Monroe, in Winder, in Bogart. We were an hour and a half late for our appointment with Laf's oncologist. We then had to wait 45 minutes to see the doctor. He told Laf he wants him back on hospice. He is too weak to withstand chemo now. Laf asked how long the doctor thought he might have left and the doctor said maybe 3 months. The oncologist's office is half an hour away from the hovel. We left here at 11:30 and did not get home until almost 5 p.m. I made the lion a half a scrambled sandwich and he dozed off in his chair. I called the Wildman and Laf's brother and gave them the news. Laf woke up in time to chat for a few minutes with his brother. I doled out his evening meds and fixed dinner. I ate what I could as he threw his up. I took care of his plate and we were in bed by 9:30. I woke up shortly after midnight and then every hour or so until I finally got up at 8:30. Hospice people will be calling. Section 8 people will be calling. I have to get a prescription refilled and pick up one Christmas gift. My grandchildren will have an extended holiday as their gifts will be late. I have Christmas dinner to shop for and I will make it and probably eat alone. Baking to do and I don't know why I bother. More things to bag up and take to the storage unit just to get them out of here. I haven't heard a word from my son, so I don't know if he's coming or not and therefore cannot make arrangements to have him picked up at the Atlanta airport. The pullout in the office is covered with files and papers and office equipment and must be cleaned off if he does come. Some Christmas, huh? I'm so very tired, but yes, Nola, our Christmas tree is up.

Monday, December 22, 2003 ~
I finally got the Christmas tree up yesterday. The lion's ornaments are buried in the back of the storage unit and mine are in NY. This is our Wally World tree and actually looks quite pretty with its soft green, red, gold and ecru balls, beads and bows. I watched The Bridges of Madison County, which always makes me cry. Laf avoided the movie by spending the time in the office writing letters. We go to Athens this morning for a follow-up and who knows what else with his oncologist. Our self-proclaimed Druid went to Saturday Mass and Father Dan beamed when he saw me wheel him toward the back of the church. Hope, as always, thank you for calling to check on us. You are right. We never did have much time, did we? But we have today.

Wednesday, December 18, 2003 ~
Sunny and windy this morning and I would love nothing more than to crawl back into bed and sleep for a month. I am exhausted and frustrated and there are just not enough hours in the day to accomplish what I need to do before Christmas. Hopes of finishing Christmas cards and online orders fizzled last night and they are still on my to-do list this morning. In 4 and 1/2 hour's time last night, I managed a reply to an email. That was the only thing I got done. I crawled into bed at 3:30, but the lion could not sleep and it was an hour later when he finally turned out the light and set the timer for the TV. Within minutes, he began to snore and I reached for the remote, fighting the desire to throw it at the television. Maybe I'll put the tree up today. Maybe not.

It's been one of those days that you just have to chalk up as uneventful as far as anything accomplished goes -a day lost. The lion didn't have a good day and I was just too tired to do much. The tree is still outside. I did manage to get it out back to water it before bringing it back to the front porch. Harry called me about classes beginning January 3rd, but I told him I just can't even think about it now. And Sears called. It doesn't seem possible that I bought those appliances 2 years ago. They wanted to sell me a new maintenance agreement, but that's just not possible and I told the salesman that I will just pray they hold up.

Something is up with our cajamnet ftp. It's not working and Tripod doesn't allow remote loading so we're stuck as far as new images for forum go for right now.

The wind won't quit. We've had 40 and 50 mph gusts all day and it is cold. It appears our utility company has decided to deny us access to the weather channel. I have never not had the weather channel. I think Monroe Utilities is setting its hopes too high for digital customers. Maybe I'll stop throwing those Direct TV ads away.

Wednesday, December 10, 2003 ~
It's late morning as I sit here with my OJ, trying to get my thoughts together and the day planned. Laf spoke to Mary Jo at United Home Health while I was out picking up prescriptions, rummaging through boxes in the storage unit for Christmas decorations, doing necessary grocery shopping, mailing classifieds to my son yesterday, but he did not say whether there was a scheduled visit for this afternoon. Ayo sits on the armrest of my chair, sticking his nose in my face as he waits to be petted. It is windy, rainy, and mild, and the windows are open. Windchimes are dancing and drowning out the sound of FOX News. Thinking of Hope in D.C. enjoying a White House Christmas party. Connor's Christmas concert was last night and I wish I'd been there to hear him sing and play his trombone for the first time in front of an audience. I wish there were at least 3 of me. One would be working at a paying job; one would be taking care of Christmas, and the other would be taking care of the Lion. I fixed dinner early last night and tried to nap for a bit, but whereas Laf fell asleep in his recliner, I could not sit and went back to the kitchen to clean all the unused glasses and candlesticks on the buffet. I woke him up to go to bed half an hour after I took flu medicine. I couldn't stand up anymore. But I couldn't sleep either until he turned out the light sometime around 4. My brain and body eagerly accepted the sudden silence and the dark and I went to sleep then.

Monday, December 8, 2003 ~
Father Dan visited yesterday afternoon. He and Laf spoke for nearly 2 hours as Ayo meowed at the closed door. Last Rites were given and the Book of Luke recommended.

Sunday, December 7, 2003 ~
It seems rather ironic that after being accused of having no intelligence, Bush is now being accused by Dean of witholding same.

Friday, December 5, 2003 ~
Apologies, especially to Hope who sent me email that she was worried. I haven't been on the puter much to even check email. I'm waiting for a serviceman to arrive to work on the O2 concentrator and thought I'd post at forum. I got a "page cannot be displayed," and don't know what's up with that. It could have been that way for a week and I wouldn't know. I haven't been there just as I haven't had a chance to get here either. As I write, the lion watches TV from his hospital bed in the bedroom. Even though I've asked that he not try to get out of bed without me, I found him in the office at his computer when I arrived home this afternoon. He has been worried about not getting LAF LIONS out and told me he finally did while I was gone. He gets so tired of sitting in that bed, but simply hasn't had the energy to get up, although he has managed to make it to the recliner a couple of times just for a change of scenery. I'd give anything to find a used laptop for him. I spent my birthday munching on burnt cinnamon raisin toast, watching the home health nurse draw blood, paying bills, and making spaghetti for Laf. I did, at least, get to talk to 2 of my kids that night. Nate is going to attempt another trip down here after Christmas. As soon as the home health people let us know what their day to come will be, I will make follow-up appts. for the lion with his oncologist, etc. I spent close to 2 hours at Action, Inc. this afternoon and as I looked around and listened to the lady chatter away, I saw an opportunity for me to volunteer there to get some experience. She was very agreeable and we'll see after Christmas if we can arrange a few hours a week for me to go in to help out.

Laf has not seen the return of his strength as we'd hoped, but he has a few hours during each day when his desire to get out of bed and do something pushes his energy level up a bit. Even Law & Order and NYPD Blue can get boring after awhile. Some Bush campaign volunteer asked me on the phone today if I might send a $75 or even $100 donation to his campaign. I told her I'd like to see him send ME &75 or even $100.

The Wildman showed up out of the blue this past week and was an enormous help. He got me a "new" used tire for the truck, repaired my recliner, and help exchange the double bed for the twin so we'd have more room for the lion's medical equipment. I repaid him with dinners, turkey sandwiches and brownies to take home with him. Watching him get the twin mattress out of the storage unit was an interesting experience. I've never heard such creative cussin'. He finally wrapped the mattress with chain and hauled it out with his truck!

Thursday, November 27, 2003 ~
We are home from the hospital. I'm beat. The rest of the story will follow, but not tonight.

Thanksgiving morning and I feel like I should write something appropriate here, but my brain is fried. The lion sleeps still, but I will wake him shortly for a trip back to the hospital. They forgot to give him his flu and pneumonia shots. I'm also awaiting a call from the home health nurse who will come to the hovel to assess medical equipment needs. I need gas and air in the tires and a pound of butter, which, in my stupor, I forgot to get last night. Gretchen thoughtfully sent us a Thanksgiving meal from Hickory Farms. Her twin sister, Janna, will host her first family Thanksgiving dinner and Gretchen said, "Mom, Janna has been calling me with questions like, "Ummmmm....where's the neck?" I laughed. I will attempt to recreate Laf's memories of sweet potato surprise, but that will be the extent of the actual cooking this year. The rest of our dinner will be the heated up contents of the Hickory Farms meal, a Mrs. Smith's apple pie and some cheesecake. Perhaps the lion will feel well enough to post a Thanksgiving message at forum later today.

Monday, November 24, 2003~Not sure at all why I am still awake. Laf is in the hospital and will be for at least a couple of days. We were severely neglected in the ER as it appears that someone was murdered today and they came first. I didn't get home until 2 a.m. and have to get up in 3 hours to go back. I came home to a cat who wanted his 8 p.m snack, messages all over my desktop and 2 emails to reply to immediately. Now, I'm wondering if I'd be better off trying to stay awake so I can get back to the hospital in time to talk to Laf's GP. Hope, sweetie, thank you so much for your call. It meant so much to both of us.

Tuesday, November 23, 2003 ~
I have to thank Hope for giving me a giggle as we tried to get a photo uploaded to forum. (No luck folks) I really don't have much to laugh about as the hospice nurse who was here this afternoon gave us a prognosis of a week, maybe 2. Neither of us think she is right. Hospice visits have exhausted the lion and he sleeps as I write this.

Sunday, November 21, 2003 ~
The lion sleeps as I type. I've taken things slow this morning, but that will change in a couple of hours. It was a hard sell, but Laf finally agreed to let me admit him to the hospital today. He has had next to no food or drink for 3 weeks and the more dehydrated he becomes, the weaker he gets. If he is to have even the next couple of months, he needs the physical strength to match his will power. He chooses still to fight, but it is getting harder and harder for him to do that. Nola says I look too sad in the above photo. But I am sad. Perhaps if I can find the time, I will put up the pic Elizabeth says is "cute." Don't look for it anytime soon, though. Spare time is not something I've had much of lately. Once I get Laf to the hospital, I will be back and forth doing things that need to be done. I changed the url for "Someplace Else" on forum to come directly here. I didn't check it to make sure it is working. If it isn't, then let me know. As I said, Tripod has messed other pages up horribly with misplaced ads and I haven't had time to repair, so rather than putting you through the website intro from forum, there is now a direct link (I hope). I'll try to get back here sometime today after the lion is settled in and let you know how he's doing.

Tuesday, November 18, 2003 ~
It's noon and I have to get us ready for the trip to the radiology clinic. The lion woke up briefly this morning, but went back to sleep. It was hard watching the Guardian Angel drivers taking Laf out of here on a stretcher yesterday, but it was so much easier for him to not have to try to sit for the ride. There was no consultation with the doctor during yesterday's visit. The social worker told me she'd been going to ask me if I wanted her to set up the stretcher rides, but that obviously, I'd taken care of that. She asked what Laf's frame of mind was. If he was holding up. If he wanted to keep going with this. If he wanted to give up and have Hospice back. I told her he is riding the fence right now. He doesn't want to give up, but he's so tired of being sick and hurting. He's just counting the days until this course of radiation is over. We should know something by the end of the week, but neither of us are too hopeful. The lion and I don't talk much these days. If he is awake, he just tells me what he wants or needs and I just do whatever it is. I sit with him from time to time during the day, but he is quiet and sad, as am I.

Monday, November 17, 2003 ~
It's difficult to know exactly what to say these days. My jaw dropped when watching FOX News this morning, and I realized how much time has passed. It seemed as though it was only a couple of weeks ago that Rush left for rehab. Laf seemed a little better this morning. Not a lot, but he asked for a sponge bath and a shave and was ready 2 hours early before collapsing back on his bed to sleep with the O2. He asked how I liked his new beard and I grinned and told him it made him look distinguished. (It shortened his shaving job). I am nervous about our trip for radiation today as it is possible the doctor will let us know how it is going - whether it is doing any good. With the possibility that the cancer has spread to his stomach and back to his lungs, it may not make much difference.

I've been thinking about forgiveness lately. As I said not too long ago, the words "I'm sorry" mean little if they are not acted upon. An apology is a process by which one earns forgiveness. To forgive is also a process, but it can only be true forgiveness if it is done with understanding and compassion. For to forgive someone without telling them how they have hurt you and to not allow him or her a way to earn your forgiveness is a death sentence. It is the death of love. To forgive without love, without understanding and compassion, allows the "forgiver" to feel superior for but a little while. It will accomplish nothing and it will imprison both parties.

Sunday, November 16, 2003 ~
The sun is finally burning off the fog on this mild morning in Georgia. I tiptoe in every few minutes to check on the lion, who is still asleep. I've kept the bedroom door closed to keep Ayo from jumping on him, but the closed door makes me nervous and I will probably open it. I lost my appetite for my danish when I caught TDC sitting near the plate cleaning his whiskers. My thanks to all of you who have emailed and called to check on the lion. He is very weak now and there's not much fight left in him.

Saturday, November 15, 2003 ~
It's almost noon and the lion still sleeps. I had all I could do to get him out of bed yesterday afternoon for the trip to radiation and he was back in bed immediately upon our return. I spent an hour on the phone with Logisticare switching him from wheelchair to stretcher patient for this upcoming week's trips to the clinic, as he can no longer make the ride sitting up. He hasn't eaten at all and continues to throw up, if he even wakes up. Things are not looking good here at all.

Friday, November 14, 2003~
I will be glad when this day is over. The lion will still have 4 more radiation treatments next week, but we will have two days off from trips to Athens. He has not been out of bed other than to dress for the trips. He got one YooHoo down yesterday, but threw up last night, so he's had nothing to eat all week other than the bbq rib and some mashed potatoes a few days ago. I'd even made popcorn for him last night, but he said he didn't even want to smell it popping, so I closed his door, then threw the popcorn away. If he doesn't get something in his stomach soon, he will end up back in the hospital to get fluids.

I spent an hour or two researching online classes last night. I requested info, although I have little time or energy left over these days to do anything extra.

Thursday night, November 13, 2003 ~
I'm laughing here. So many of you have offered me a place to stay if something happens to the lion. I'm tempted to ask y'all if you can just take some of our stuff and I'll visit it :) lol! I seriously have questions about my own laughter, to tell the truth. I guess I just need it from time to time. Today marked the half-way point of the lion's radiation treatments on his brain and not only has it not been fun, he is so ill with it, I can't begin to describe.

Look for something big coming from "former" Alabama Supreme Court Justice Moore.

A note for Nola. I have not heard from or talked to Gretchen, but Janna tells me Gabe's operation went ok, That there may be more surgery necessary in the future. Janna talked to the man himself. He said he can hear better :) I'm sorry I haven't been around when you've messaged me. The lion's not doing well at all right now and I have been preoccupied, to say the least.

Tuesday, November 11 ~
A veteran sits at his keyboard making his own special music. We have but a few minutes here as the driver called to ask if she could pick us up earlier. I hate that. It is impossible for the Lion to rush to get ready and it tacks on more time to an already long day. Tomorrow we leave very early. There will be 2 appointments. Another CT scan at the hospital, followed by another radiation treatment, so it will be an even longer day out of town. I'm sneaking bites of pasta salad as I type and wait for "Rebel." Yesterday we left the house with empty bellies. Not unusual anymore for Laf, of course. He is down to one meal a day, if you can call one BBQ rib a meal. Perhaps empty stomachs will work in our favor when Hillary announces her candidacy.

Monday, November 10, 2003 ~
I checked some other pages on my website tonight. Tripod's forced ads have really messed it up badly. I'd started transfering this site to cajamnet months ago, but have had little time for it and I hadn't checked my other pages in ages, so I was unaware of the Tripod ad damage. I have been hesitant to transfer everything to cajamnet permanently because that is my domain and it costs a couple hundred a year. Quite frankly, I'm not sure if I can handle that fee when it comes due next spring. Laf's site is entirely on cajamnet and that worries me. We had such great plans.

Everett from Guardian Angel van picked us up late, but in time to make our appt. I can't complain as I had to make van arrangements on an emergency need basis. Driving to Athens every day is gas money, so I need to get them to take us when possible. Laf was in radiology for a total of 20 minutes and he said half of that was waiting to go, but we had to wait outside for the van for another 40 minutes as our driver had someone at dialysis to pick up. We also had a stroke/heart attack patient to pick up and he was not done when we arrived, so Everett went to a gas station to play the lottery. They were ready when we returned. The van was crowded today, more so than usual, with Laf in the passenger seat where he needed to be because his long legs were in the way :), his scooter, two wheelchair patients and two caregivers. I did feel horrible for the dialysis lady. She was missing her right leg and had to go to the bathroom badly. We couldn't fit her wheelchair in our house, nor could the daughter of the heart patient. I suggested options, but she said she would hold out for home. Been there and I pictured her with tears running down her cheeks as she "held out." The trip took 3 1/2 hours total for us. Coulda been worse. We do the same again tomorrow, but our driver will be "Rebel." Rebel? That could only be a southern name.

It is not even 9 p.m. and the lion is already in bed. He has plans to get up to take care of some things...Laf Lions and a court date for a client which must be rescheduled because of all of this, but I have doubts that he will be up again tonight. Anything is possible around here, of course.

Ayo did me in royally this morning. I went to my desk after showering and getting dressed only to find the base of the phone and the phone itself on the floor. He had also managed to lose my mouse and nothing would get it back, so I lost stuff I'd idiotically thought I'd have time to save. Save, save, save...will be my mantra from here on in.

Sunday, November 9, 2003 ~
This past Friday afternoon, the radiologist mapped out a course of treatment. He sounded very positive and said the lesions had been found in very early stage, so he thinks Laf might be able to beat this. The Lion received his first dose of radiation Friday to be followed by 9 more, one per day except on weekends. His last CT scan of the chest had shown 2 areas the oncologist thought might indicate infection, rather than cancer, but he scheduled Laf for a new scan of chest and abdomen to be done the 12th to be sure.

I was thinking about the words "I'm sorry" this morning. When you confess your sins, you are asked to repent by saying prayers, or, in other words, by talking directly to God. The catch is that you are also expected to change your ways and to try not repeat those sins. So, apologizing and saying "I'm sorry" is not enough. You are required to take some sort of action. Asking for forgiveness is more than just words. Without actions to back up those words, the words become meaningless.

Friday morning, November 7, 2003 ~
My hands are shaking as I type this. The MRI of the brain shows 3 lesions. We go immediately for radiation. I don't know when I will be back.

Thursday, November 6, 2003 ~
It's almost midnight on this very, very long day. Laf tried the bed last night and within no time at all was back out in his recliner. I listened to him try to breathe. He was having a very difficult time, so I got up to check. The O2 concentrator was running, but the mask was dangling off the arm of his chair. He said it wasn't working, so I checked the water level. It was low and worked fine after I added more distilled water. He was out immediately and I sat in my chair just watching him breathe. I went back to bed at 3 a.m., but couldn't sleep. "What ifs" and "should have dones" marched through my head, one morbid thought following the other. I had just dozed off when the alarm sounded at 5 a.m. It was time for his second round of premeds. I hated to wake him up, but did so as quickly as I could so both of us could go back to sleep. I only had a couple of hours before the alarm would go off again. Our schedule at the hospital had been switched around. We were there for 10:30 registration and an 11 a.m. echo, but at 12:30, they still hadn't come for us in the waiting room. A little checking and we discovered they'd sent us to the wrong place. We left immediately for the other side of the hospital and they fit him in quickly. It was interesting watching the electrocardiogram and for the first time, the respiratory specialist actually took the time to explain what we were seeing. He did locate a leak in the mitral?? valve. I don't know if it is new or if it was there last winter when last he had this test done. EF was determined to be about 30, so that's not too bad, as it was originally at 20 - 25. After that was done, we headed back to radiology for the MRI. We waited for quite some time. There was paperwork, of course. The nurse put him on O2 for a few minutes at his request, then, on the second try, managed to get the IV in for the sedative and dye. I remembered this time to put all of my things in a locker. The last time I ended up with a de-magnetized ATM card. The attendants got Laf up on the table, covered him with a blanket, put him back on O2, and started the IV sedative which would help with the inevitable claustrophobia. They slid him into the machine, handed me a set of ear plugs, and disappeared into the control room to start the brain scan. I jokingly told him to visualize nekkid ladies because I wanted to see if that would show up on the scan. I held his hand as the machine noisily did its job. He did well and it was over in about 20 minutes. The nurse told me to go get the truck and she'd meet me at the South Tower door. I said ok and headed over there, praying that the security guard at that end of the hospital wasn't the same one I'd told earlier that I didn't drive. I drove to the door and they loaded the lion into the truck. Then I drove down the street and I turned into another parking lot where we could switch places. He said, "I should make you drive home. Hey, Lion, give me time. I'm getting there. This is the first time I've driven with 3 people watching and waiting for me. And I did just fine. Laf had a craving for Sonny's BBQ, so we headed there for lunch/supper. By the time we got back home, we were both ready for a nap. I slept until 8 p.m. and feel better. I really needed that nap. He is in the office, getting Laf Lions out, playing keyboard, etc., while I am out here. He'd also napped, but the smell of chocolate chip cookies in the oven was too much for him and I got a big grin from him when I put a full bowl of cookies on his lap.

We head back to Athens to see the oncologist tomorrow and to find out what today's tests show. The echo showed some fluid build up. Maybe we will be lucky and discover that is the source of his breathing problems, as that same thing happened last year beginning around this time, becoming critical by February. When they drained the fluid, the difference in his ability to breathe was like night and day. I am more worried about the CT scan being done next week of chest and abdomen. We won't know the results of that until the 3rd week in November - the week before Thanksgiving.

The humidity has been horrible this past week, but I'd rather deal with that than the drop in temps that is on its way. Of course, by this time next week, my kids will be back in below freezing temperatures, wearing winter parkas and mittens. I may need a sweater.

Wednesday, November 5, 2003 ~
A couple of hours and the lion begins his premeds for tomorrow's MRI. Lion, I apologize for not being at forum as much as you would like, but there are only so many things I can do during the course of a day. Grrrrr....

Monday, (but who cares?), November 3, 2003 ~
A call to the oncology office shows the lion's CBCs to be ok, but we made an appt. to see the doctor tomorrow anyway. I don't see where that will acomplish anything as the only thing the doctor can do is to put the lion back in the hospital for more tests. So I will spend the night preparing for that eventuality - packing up just in case. Lion, we talk, or rather, you do. I just listen. And I just end up feeling the same as always. I've accomplished nothing in 2 years for myself and my window of opportunity has closed for good.

Sunday, November 2, 2003 ~
A thought for today:

Peyton Conway March: "There is a wonderful mythical law of nature that the three things we crave most in life -- happiness, freedom, and peace of mind -- are always attained by giving them to someone else."

But, (and there always is a but), Ralph Waldo Emerson: "We do not quite forgive a giver. The hand that feeds us is in some danger of being bitten."

Saturday, November 1, 2003 ~
I hope this doesn't offend anyone, but it cracked me up. Maybe it should have reduced me to tears instead? People forget to stuff their inner child back where it belongs.According to a report on Fox this afternoon, this is what men want in a woman: 1)A cheerleader 2)Someone exactly like or exactly opposite from their mother. 3)Sex -All at the same time. Get out the megaphone, gals! And what do women want? A date once a week - ONLY one, because the 2nd thing is space. #3 A responsible male and one who will wash the dishes or push a vacuum. And the number one piece of advice for women is to listen very carefully to what a man says about his past relationships because if he has nothing good to say about them, he is the type who will be irresponsible and always find someone to blame and you will be next.

There was something so special about Gilda. She is one lady I never want to hear any bad things about.
Gilda Radner:
"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity."

Gilda, it's always something. Isn't it?

Today's subliminal thought is:

Friday, October 31, 2003 ~
Shortly after midnight. The lion sleeps finally in his chair behind me after another roller coaster night. Four hours which included semi-euphoria at suddenly feeling better followed by suddenly not being able to breathe, by flashbacks and anger and touching to connect so he doesn't disappear. He has me and I have no one and I begin to question my own sanity.

I carved the pumpkin myself. I worked with the knife on the front porch. Through the open window I could hear the constant moans of the lion trying to breathe as he slept and I had to struggle to keep the knife steady in my hands. Carving an evil grin on the pumpkin became just another chore and I wondered why I was bothering with it.

Thursday, October 30, 2003 ~
Sunny and mild here in Georgia. The lion ended up back in his recliner and hooked to the O2 concentrator during the night. Ayo curled up on his chest and kept him warm. Daughter Janna said they are expecting a warm Halloween up North. Usually, kids are bundled up in snowsuits under their costumes. Evie is going to be a cow. I haven't had a chance to get to forum yet, but will in a bit. The lion posted a gorgeous photo of Honey's new grandbaby. Go take a peek.

Lion, you are going to help me carve the pumpkin!

Wednesday, October 29, 2003 ~
Our trip to the oncologist went without incident, but the news is "iffy." The last CAT scan showed something, but he couldn't determine if it was an infection or new tumor cells, so we head to the hospital in 2 weeks for another scan and in 3 weeks for another follow-up appt. with the oncologist. If all goes as planned, we will be attending the Grand Opening reception in celebration of the new offices for Hematology and Oncology of NE Georgia. Our driver had to return a Winder resident to her home and the ride though the countryside was beautiful and alive with fall colors.

Errands this afternoon. We thought we were home for good when the lion's remote went (OMG), so we went back out for a new one. Batteries. It was just batteries. It's late...already tomorrow, if you wish, and the lion is on O2 from the concentrator. Neither of us know why or what's going on anymore.

It is really late. I still haven't eaten, but decided on Kraft, so that is on the stove. Laf is still on O2 in his recliner behind me, sound asleep. I will wake him as soon as I've eaten and get him to bed. I am definitely losing it. I'm beat. I'm also vastly irritated. I had photos developed and got a diskette with them. Kodak. I have Kodak Picture Disk installed, but the program brings up not a thing, nor does any other program I tried. I will try to bring it up on the lion'd puter tomorrow. If he gets nothing, I'll head back to CVS with a complaint. There was a picture of me that I'd actually consider using on this site.

Tuesday, October 28, 2003 ~
I woke up at 5:45 this morning. That was simply too early for me to even consider getting up. It took me forever to get back to sleep. I had the oddest dream. In the dream, I was in a state of panic. Everything my eyes rested upon seemed surreal. My window looked directly out over a busy highway and the vehicles were moving too fast for me to focus. I wasn't alone, but I don't know who was with me. There was a dangerous, half-crazy man who appeared out of nowhere. He told me that I had to solve a riddle, but he wouldn't tell me what the riddle was. He said it was imperative that I solve it in order to save myself. I fell asleep inside the dream and saw something dark and rectangular, but couldn't figure out what it was. Two others also had visions and one interpreted her vision as a walnut. The other said hers was an oak. I disagreed with their interpretations of what they saw, but nothing was making any sense anyway. Someone handed me an old copy of "The Secret Garden." They seemed to think I'd find the answer in this book and then I would know what the riddle was. Suddenly, I was outside. It was dark out and there were 2 men checking boxes of belongings, some of which were mine. They were going through them to make sure there were no explosives in them, then loading them into the back of a truck. There was a dark cloth hanging in the middle of the truck and I knew there were people sitting on the other side of the cloth. I asked the men if they wanted me to get in the truck. One of them spoke to me in a language I didn't know, but I somehow managed to understand that they would be back in the morning to get me and the lion. The lion seemed unconcerned about all of this and followed me to a balcony which seemed to overlook the entire Atlantic. He was glad that we had the one night before we would leave and he picked me up and carried me across the balcony. I remember looking backward over his shoulder at the ocean and thinking that we would be going to some small country on the other side, but Jamaica came to mind for some reason and that couldn't be right. I still have no idea what the riddle was, but somehow, it seems to have real life implications and the dream has been very hard to shake off this morning.

Read this in my meanderings today: "At the end of the day, the battle against depression really is just that - a battle, a life and death struggle; unfortunately, it's a battle with yourself. So use 'any means necessary' to win. This is probably the best or most worthwhile battle you could ever take part in - you get to win your own love and respect, which is buried inside under a pile of .. well, unpleasant stuff!" Of course one of the biggest problems for someone who is depressed is to motivate him or herself enough to want to fight the battle. If therapy is unavailable, then there is only one recourse. Educate yourself. Read everything you can about depression and related mental disorders. Consider what you read honestly. Do not deny symptoms because accepting is too painful or because "they couldn't possibly apply to you." Understand that working your way out of depression will not be easy. It may be painful. It may take a very long time. There is no magic pill that will cause overnight recovery. No other person can make your depression go away, but you do need support. You have a choice. You can choose to confront your depression and work on issues a step at a time or you can choose to do nothing. Doing nothing is easier. Or is it?

Monday, October 27, 2003 ~
I got up late and the lion got up early, which means we got up at the same time. This is unusual. It is still mild and cloudy. The only sound is the music of the wind chimes. I have changed this site somewhat, in that all links off this page will now open in a separate window, with one exception. Any linked webpage which plays background music will close this page. This will enable you to avoid midi player conflicts. Please do not forget that if you wish to peruse this page without music, the Crescendo Midi Player is located at the extreme top left of this page. Right click on the box and choose "stop" from the drop down list.

I wondered how long it would be before Tripod put their ads on the top of this page. It was too much, I guess, to hope they would continue to remain out of sight at the bottom. Oh, well. What can I say? I am using their services for free, after all.

Waiting to hear how Gabe is after his ear operation. The lion was able to keep down most of a chicken potpie. Watching Mr. "I Screwed Up" login and out on msn. Where's Mommy, Ryan? Why do I get the feeling she's avoiding me?

A word to the unwise: One of the reasons Moms rarely become ill or if they do, they get well asap, is because they are not focused on THEMSELVES. If you feel ill and you want to feel better, try focusing on something else! This means DOING something, not just thinking. Moms are always DOING and that is the secret. Stop thinking about you. Start doing for others. You then have no time to think about yourself, your pain, your misery, your problems. Yes, you do have to make room for thought about those things, but when you focus on them, they get bigger and bigger until they take over your existence. Quite frankly, you can think and THink and THINK, but unless you DO, nothing changes. The old cliche "actions speak louder than words" is one that holds true. If you DO nothing, then it doesn't matter what you say. Ah! Gabe's operation has been rescheduled for November 10th.

Another thought ~ Christmas is coming. It will come and go with little notice on my part this year as I have nothing left with which to give.

Sunday, October 26, 2003 ~
Sitting here listening to the lion moan and yell in his chair. He began having breathing problems again last week, but when he had an accident with his scooter outside the doctor's office, the doctor listened to his heart and took his blood pressure and said he was looking good. He had all of that done again at the hospital ER, where he ended up for x-rays after his fall and again, his vitals were good. He's been on and off oxygen and I am lost as there is always something new and little I can do. Someone at the doctor's last week said to me that it almost seems like he doesn't want to get better - I've been trying to remember who it was, but can't. But, whoever it was, he or she has been paying attention.

Ya know, for the majority, sanity IS a big deal. After all, it is the only place joy can exist.

Tuesday, October 21, 2003 ~
Happy 5th Birthday, Gabriel!

Nola messaged me to tell me she and Ted are moving to IOWA. The lion's question: "On purpose?"

Saturday, October 18, 2003 ~
In the "told ya" category, MSNCB out of Ft. Myers, Florida, is reporting a scam associated with the national "Do Not Call" list. Remember when I told you that the Feds "Do Not Call" website attempted to place a cookie on your computer using a tracking service out of NY? Well, now it seems that other unfriendlies have decided to try to get you to sign up for their own version of the list. The crooks are calling around, posing as FTC reps, asking you if you'd like to sign up and attempting to get a bit more info than is necessary - like your name and social security number. Please help spread the word to family and friends. The FTC is NOT calling anyone. If you receive a call from someone who says he/she is with the FTC, hang up and call the authorities. Do NOT give out ANY personal information over the phone. Ever.

Thursday, October 16, 2003 ~
Gabe wants to be a hammer for Halloween????

Nola is moving? Why? Where?

Wednesday, October 15, 2003 ~
Well, my goodness! This is the very first time I've written to Tripod about not being able to access my files in the normal fashion when I haven't had to re-explain the problem in 4 or 5 back and forth emails before the problem was understood and fixed. So, to the Tripod Support employee who read my complaint, understood it the first time, and fixed the problem, Thank you!

I woke up exhausted and out-of-sorts this morning. It was such a let-down to discover my son wasn't coming to visit after all. He said he'd try to come during the first couple of weeks in November and asked me what my schedule was. Schedule? What schedule? Only those who live in the real world have schedules.

We have been notified that we will be offline tomorrow (Thursday) for an undetermined amount of time. Probably for the best as we are expecting a client. This site, Laf's, and the voy forum will still be accessible to all of you - just not to us. Gret messaged me this afternoon and we were able to see each other on webcams for a short while, although mine kept freezing up for some unknown reason. She sent beautiful school pics of Gabe and Connor. I will post them here as soon as I have time to reduce size for this venue. Little Gabe will celebrate his 5th birthday next week. He is having surgery the following week to have tubes put in his ears. He spelled his own name and then a few other words for me today. That was an enjoyable time for me. I miss teaching my grandkids.

I was thinking tonight about the time I went someplace I wasn't supposed to be when I was 18. That fateful night, I fell and dislocated my shoulder. All of these years I kept thinking that my parents never knew where I really was. (I lied to them when they arrived at the hospital). It occurred to me tonight that I'd had a taxi take me to this place and the cab company owner is the one who drove me. He was a good friend of my dad's. There's a good chance he and my father had a conversation after this event. My father probably knew I lied. But that isn't really why I bring this up. I was thinking about something I heard on Law & Order a few nights ago. Jack, at the end of the show, said, "If someone is mentally ill, how would they know they are?" An odd statement from this particular character who usually shows no mercy or understanding of mental illness. He asked a very pertinent question. The night I dislocated my shoulder, I knew I'd done something pretty darned bad right away. It hurt. Oh, how it hurt! I've done some amount of damage to myself at other points in my life. One night when everyone was asleep, I was doing laundry in the basement. I took one step on the stairs too quickly and fell. I had to drag myself up the stairs. I went to the living room and sat in the recliner, getting my foot up. It didn't help. I panicked and sat there hurting. What was up with this? I didn't have stupid things like this happen to me. I waited throughout the whole night for it to feel better. It didn't happen. Eventually, I went to bed. My husband left for work before I woke up. I tried to stand. Was not going to happen. I showered and got dressed and got kids off to school, then called a cab. I went to the ER. I'd broken my foot. Took me awhile this time, but I did eventually realize I needed to see someone. Then there was the time that when I was pregnant with my 5th, I began not feeling well at all. I went to my bed. I saw blood. My husband was home. I called him upstairs and told him what was happening. He called my OB/GYN and was told to get me over there immediately. I'd miscarried. These were all physical events. I knew something was wrong and sought treatment each time. But, then there was the time that within a period of only a few months, my husband lost his job, one of my twins got married and we could not help financially, my youngest grandson was tearing up my house (I was not to discover until this year that he has severe hearing problems), I was unhappy in my marriage, creditors were calling the house at a rate of one call every five minutes during every hour of every day, my father was ill and was put in the hospital where he would die within a very short time. I was depressed, clinically so, and lost a tremendous amount of weight. Thank God, one of my daughters saw what was happening to her mother. She took charge, but just long enough for me to grab on to her hand, pull myself out of the hole, and begin to get my life back. I'd been depressed, but was eager to NOT be depressed. I was eager to get myself out of that hole. I took the help I received and did what I had to do. That is what normally psychologically healthy people do when they go through that kind of depression. But what if I had not been normally psychologically healthy? Would I have even recognized that I had a problem? Would I have eagerly accepted help from someone who said I needed it? If I was mentally ill, I probably would have denied it. Even if I sensed something was wrong, I would have said, "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need any help. My problems are caused by others and they are the ones who need help, if anyone does. I can handle this. I am strong and I can take care of my problems myself." This is one of the dilemmas the loved ones of those who have a mental illness face. That those they love deny that they have a problem, or blame others for their problems or even that they may have a sense that something isn't right, but whatever it is, they say they can handle it themselves. After all, only weaklings need help with problems. And so, I repeat the question posed on Law & Order, "If someone is mentally ill, how would they know they are?" How do you tell someone things are not how they perceive them to be? That their perceptions are skewed because they have a mental disorder that will not allow them to see things the way others see them?

Tuesday, October 14, 2003 ~
I was so sure my son was coming.

Sunday, October 12, 2003 ~
On Waking Up:

Spirituality means waking up. Most people, even though they don’t know it, are asleep. They’re born asleep, they live asleep, they marry in their sleep, they breed children in their sleep, they die in their sleep without ever waking up. They never understand the loveliness and the beauty of this thing that we call human existence. You know ~ all mystics ~ Catholic, Christian, non-Christian, no matter what their theology, no matter what their religion ~ are unanimous on one thing: that all is well, all is well. Though everything is a mess, all is well. Strange paradox, to be sure. But, tragically, most people never get to see that all is well because they are asleep. They are having a nightmare.

Last year on Spanish television I heard a story about this gentleman who knocks on his son’s door. "Jaime," he says, "wake up!" Jaime answers, "I don’t want to get up, Papa."

The father shouts, "Get up, you have to go to school." Jaime says, "I don’t want to go to school." "Why not?" asks the father. "Three reasons," says Jaime. First, because it’s so dull; second, the kids tease me; and third, I hate school. And the father says, "Well, I am going to give you three reasons why you must go to school. First, because it is your duty; second, because you are forty-five years old, and third, because you are the headmaster." Wake up! Wake up! You’ve grown up. You’re too big to be asleep. Wake up! Stop playing with your toys.

Most people tell you they want to get out of kindergarten, but don’t believe them. Don’t believe them! All they want you to do is to mend their broken toys. "Give me back my wife. Give me back my job. Give me back my money. Give me back my reputation, my success." This is what they want; they want their toys replaced. That’s all. Even the best psychologist will tell you that, that people don’t really want to be cured. What they want is relief; a cure is painful.

Waking up is unpleasant, you know. You are nice and comfortable in bed. It is irritating to be woken up. That’s the reason the wise guru will not attempt to wake people up. I hope I’m going to be wise here and make no attempt whatsoever to wake you up if you are asleep. It is really none of my business, even though I say to you at times, "Wake up!" My business is to do my thing, to dance my dance. If you profit from it fine; if you don’t, too bad! As the Arabs say, "The nature of rain is the same, but it makes thorns grow in the marshes and flowers in the gardens."

~ Anthony de Mello, Awareness: The Perils and Opportunities of Reality

Another thought for today:

The unexamined life is not worth living.
~ Plato

The overexamined life is a drag.
~ graffiti

Saturday, October 11, 2003 ~
It rained during the night, making for an unusually quiet weekend morning. The kids were on Fall Break this past week, which is a new thing for school children in our area. My thoughts are with my son this morning as he flies from Albany to Tampa. He promised to call from St. Pete later this afternoon, but he had too many problems trying to change fights and I don't think I will see him this time around.

The lion found Wyla yesterday afternoon and they chatted for close to 3 hours while I cleaned. He was delighted to hear from her. It's been 3 years and there was much news to catch each other up on.

Friday, October 10, 2003 ~
It's a gray, mild morning here in Georgia. The vibrant greens are slowly fading to yellows, oranges and browns. It doesn't seem possible that it was two whole years ago that I decided I needed to make a fresh start for me. I needed a break from being responsible to and for everyone else. I wanted to take time to discover what possibilities there were "out there" for me to use my own particular talents and gifts. I sit here this morning feeling completely lost and vulnerable, and no closer to making those discoveries than I was when I came. Elizabeth says I should volunteer at the library or sit in on classes. It's not quite that easy. That would require a schedule, an obligation to be someplace at a certain time. The university is too far away and the library here - well, let's suffice it to say that I would have to change the library before there would even be a need for volunteers. In my old hometown, the library was the hub of activity. It was what made the city a destination. Here, you might see 4 or 5 people in the library and that's about as busy as it gets. So what is the answer? I don't even know what the question is anymore.

There has been no word from Nathan, so I can only assume he is not coming to visit. Oh well. I hadn't allowed myself to get my hopes up too high. It's better that way. Life is too short and I no longer have time to wait for other people to do what they say they are going to do or what they might do. As a mom, you get used to putting yourself last in little ways (and sometimes in big ways). For example, I would prepare for a family outing by making sure all the kids were dressed appropriately and ready to go. I counted on their father to get himself ready and then, when I knew everything was set to go, I'd get me ready. That's why I say that I've always been an "ABC" kind of gal. Make sure everyone else is ok and that they are doing what needs to be done, then I can relax and do for me. If "A" and "B" are not done, it is next to impossible for me to even contemplate "C," even if "C" = "me." If this works the way it should most of the time, then I can be flexible some of the time. And that's the way it should be. With a routine or schedule in place, you can break from it and enjoy the break. If you are always on "break," then you struggle constantly to motivate yourself.

Wednesday, October 8, 2003 ~
Happy Birthday, Arden James.

I located the rest of AJ's 2001 articles.

The pop-ups at her new site are horrendous, but please don't let it stop you from reading.

For instance, Honouring Pain

Or this article on Projection.

Another excellent article is this one on Structure or No Structure? Pleasure versus PainVery Important - Degrees of Separation

Great quote: "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him think rationally."

"I do have triggers, but most days they don't bother me and then the irrational seething, loathing anger will jump up and snatch at that trigger. When the storm passes, I look around me and cannot believe I could have done the things I have done, said the things I said, or thought the things I thought. In the throes of a storm, I think "I am an intelligent, sensitive, and dammit yes, a NICE human being. So why am I doing this?" I just mop up the mess, try to learn from it and go on."
~ Tracey

Monday, October 6, 2003 ~
I've always believed that emotional stress causes most disease. For the past 3 days, I have been unable (or perhaps I should say unwilling), to shave my legs. The reason? Severe itching on my lower legs, especially my shins. This has only ever happened to me once before. My husband had lost his job a week after the birth of my youngest child and had asked my parents if we could move back to NY and live with them for awhile. I did NOT want to do this, but that is precisely what we did. We moved 200 boxes of belongings and a family of 6 into my parents' quiet existence. My mother was ill and when she wasn't sleeping (which was most of the time), she was telling me to "do" this or "not to do" that. I did all of the chores and I was required to do them her way and on her schedule. I couldn't use my newborn's naptime to work because working would wake my mother. I couldn't vacuum before my father got home from work because my mom was sleeping. I couldn't vacuum after he got home because the sound of the vacuum hurt his ears. I was required to spend the 4 hours my mom used to spend on clipping coupons and looking for sales. My husband would do the actual shopping and he was required to go to the 5 or 6 different stores that she would have gone to. Mom would gripe that my father couldn't get a good fire going in the woodstove, so that became my job. Then she complained that he hadn't cut firewood. One experience with the chain saw and I knew that wasn't going to be my job. My husband was out every day looking for work. I had twins in 1st grade, a son in preschool and a colicky infant. We had moved in with them at the very end of September. By May of the following year, I was a wreck. Suddenly, without any warning at all, my shins began to itch. I would get into the shower each morning and the itch would become overwhelming. I'd rub my legs with the washcloth because I didn't want to scratch with my nails. It wouldn't have mattered much. The itching was so bad that I had all I could do not to scream and I rubbed my legs so hard that I broke the skin. I finally went to the doctor. He told me he could find nothing wrong and asked if I'd been under any kind of stress. Stress?????? Me?????? Soooo...this morning I smoothed some heavy cream on my shins, which doesn't help much, and plunked cute little things like "psychosomatic itching" and "atopical dermatitis" into good old Google.

"Stress increasingly has been recognized as an important factor in the pathogenesis of AD, but responses to stress are variable and dependent on the existing psychologic foundation of the patient and family. Stressful events often have been observed to occur before an AD exacerbation.[90,91] Children with AD have been shown to be more susceptible to stress-induced skin eruptions because of a hyporesponsive hypothalamus-pituitary-adrenal axis, which blunts the body's natural ability to produce cortisol and suppress inflammation in response to stress.[92]"

I guess that doctor knew what he was talking about.

***All voy forums are down. We don't know why. Z-Dr's is down too.

Saturday, October 4, 2003 ~
Chilly day in the Northeast today where my twin daughters are celebrating their 29th birthday. I was lucky to catch them both with one phone call. It was Castleton's annual Garage Sale Day and I chatted with both girls in between sales. It was busy and pleasantly noisy on their end of the phone. I could hear Connor and his little girlfriend laughing and talking excitedly in the background. Gret and Rob have set their wedding date for August 21, 2004. Janna's clothing is getting tight and she is heading back into maternity clothes, while her younger sister is a month into them already. Gret said she was having baby thoughts and when I protested, she laughed and said she would make do with squeezing her sisters' Spring babies for the time being. She said little Connor treated her to dinner last night and that he'd brought a "date." He's only 10! She and Janna will enjoy each other's company tonight as they do their annual birthday dinner - just the two of them. The lion surprised and delighted Gretchen by playing for her over the phone. I miss you guys so much. Happy Birthday!

They told me Nate is coming to see me on his way to Florida next weekend. I haven't heard from him, so I don't know if that's true or not, but I hope so. I haven't seen any of my kids in over 2 years. Besides, I need something to motivate me to do Fall cleaning, which, after the summer we had, would be last Spring's cleaning, as well. I remember when I wanted to do a huge cleaning and clearing out, my husband would take the kids to Connecticut for 3 days or so. I would wave as they backed out of the drive, watch the car as it went around the corner and out of sight, then I'd kick up my heels and do a jig to celebrate time alone. I would immediately start in on the house. I'd play my music or enjoy total silence. The big job ahead of me didn't matter. I was alone and free, something I rarely got, something I absolutely cherished. When that car turned the corner, it was like I'd been given a magic energy pill. I didn't even stop to eat. I'd head down the street to the corner store and buy a box of fresh Stewart's Fried Cakes and I'd munch on them while I worked. There was no one yelling Mom! No one knocked at the front door and the phone stopped ringing. I didn't have to vacuum around feet or break for dinner or stop what I was doing for any reason at all. By the time they returned, I was exhausted and filthy, but I felt spiritually refreshed, and as an added benefit, the house was clean. For a couple of days anyway.

I was always pretty much a "brownie." One of my favorite stories when I was a child was "The Elves and The Shoemaker." If I couldn't get alone time during the daytime, I would work at night while all were asleep. My husband's work kept him out of town more often than not and I was free to do what I wanted when I wanted during those times. So I spent time with the kids during the day and worked after they were sound asleep. Things were different when he lost jobs and was home all the time. I got claustrophic and would spend hours at the word processor doing cover letters, hoping he would get a job as soon as possible, so I could feel some freedom again. Gretchen joked today about her upcoming wedding, wondering why she and her fiance would get married, considering the fact that they work opposite hours. She laughingly answered her own question. "That's why."

Wednesday, October 1, 2003 ~
What do I say? I had such hopes for today. But psychiatrists specialize nowadays in medications, rather than therapy and I am back to square one.

You say you have become afraid to read here, but you really do not read. I've told you I do nothing without purpose, but you either choose to ignore or your fear keeps you from clicking on urls. I wonder how my kids would describe their impression of Mom's last 2 years. I take that back. I don't wonder. I know. But what do you think? Who is the one who is lost really?

Sunday, September 28, 2003 ~
Who does not seek to risk to change is: "Wandering between two worlds, one dead, the other powerless to be born."
`Matthew Arnold

"When suffering no longer has value, recovery is instantaneous."
~unknown

"What we call the beginning is often the end and to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from."
~ (T.S Eliot)

Saturday, September 20, 2003 ~
I've written often about the search for balance in my life. There is a fine line between passion and obsession. I have many interests and some I am very passionate about. It is when interests begin to interfere with life in the real world, that they become obsessions. There can be no balance if one's life is nothing but the pursuit of the fulfillment of one's obsessions. That is escapism.

'Come sit down beside me,'
I said to myself,
And although it doesn't make sense,
I held my own hand
As a small sign of trust
And together I sat on the fence.

~ Michael Leunig,
'Sitting on the Fence.'

Friday, September 19, 2003 ~It's been a long day, one of a million long days. There is no way I could convey to anyone how tired I am, how depressed, how hopeless, how disappointed I feel.

I received this response to something I wrote a few days ago in re: A.J. Mahari's articles: "I agree with you that the individual is not responsible for the things that caused his problems, but disagree about his responsibility for his behavior. If one is sick, is it not their responsibility to find the root cause and solution? Is it not their responsibility to search for the answers if they have been given the opportunity and support? Shouldn't one accept that they are responsible for at least some part of their actions, behavior and the associated consequences? It is my responsibility to accept the past, understand my problems that stem from my past and work on them; the other has the same duty. Without that responsibility, we all live in a world where the cycle never ends and good will never come from bad. Too many in our society try to attempt to shift the blame away from themselves. The individual is not a bad person, but I cannot relieve him of that responsibility. I can instead forgive him, something I have already done. My forgiveness was truthful, sincere and done with love. That is all I can and will give him."

This was another sad, yet healthy, response by someone whose life was shaped by an illness in the family. Another look at how illness effects not just the one who is ill, but all who love him or her. My response would be to point out that although the author of the above is right that if someone knows they have a problem, it is their responsibility to get the help they need, it is important to understand that because of the very nature of mental illness, the one effected with the illness may not realize that something is wrong. Or, he or she may sense something is wrong, but their perception may be skewed and they may see problems in their lives as being caused by something or someone else. If you assume that "we" are "normal," (that our perceptions and reactions are within exceptable societal norms), then "we" can make "normal" and valid assumptions about our own actions. We may not want to admit that some thing we did caused a problem for someone else, but we will own up to it and apologize for it, as individuals who take responsibility for our own behavior. Those who are mentally ill cannot see the connection between their behavior and the ensuing valid negative responses from others that their behavior may illicit. Mental illness causes behaviors outside the "norm." Why? Because those afflicted do not perceive events and people the same way "we" do. It is impossible for them to make "normal" associations. If they do not realize or if they deny they need help, then unfortunately they won't receive it, to their own detriment and to the detriment of their loved ones. Often in cases like this, it is some crisis, a medical emergency, a brush with law enforcement, or something similar which forces someone like this to undergo psychiatric evaluation. A competent therapist will insist upon continuation of treatment even after the crisis is over. Others will simply throw a prescription at the patient and send them on their way.

This was interesting:
"It is difficult for people to be comfortable with individuals with BPD because they so easily become sullen and hurt or obstinate and nasty. These individuals are readily provoked; they are impatient and irritable unless things go their way. While BPD anguish and despair are genuine, they are also often a means of expressing hostility and can be used to frustrate and retaliate against others. However, individuals with BPD may believe that the obstructiveness, pessimism, and immaturity that others see in them is actually a reflection of their sensitivity and the inconsiderateness that others show toward them (Millon, 1996, pp. 168-169). The rest of the article can be found here.

Sunday, September 14, 2003 ~
3 a.m. ~ I sit here alone. It is quiet, but for chirp of crickets and the tick tock of the pendulum. The beats are out of sync and it irritates me. The lion has his angel, but her wings are broken. She is failing her purpose and she is failing herself. Angels have their own dreams. What happens to angels when their dreams are taken away?

You asked me the other night, Lion, "How do you do that? How do you see what is in the deepest part of me?" It is simply a gift I have. Selma Fraiberg described this gift in this way: Understanding how another person feels is 'a special quality in human intelligence.' It is 'the ability imaginatively to put oneself in the place of others'. And, as Stephanie Dowrick states in her book, Intimacy and Solitude, "this capacity to put yourself into someone else's place, to know imaginatively what that person is feeling and to care about it, is vital to any meaningful experience of intimacy. Without it, you are simply one self sucking on another self, one self using other selves for whatever it is they can give you." I've touched on this before in this journal. You can study human nature until the end of time, but still not understand any of it unless you can leave yourself behind and imaginatively become the other. Unfortunately, too many people are too absorbed with their own issues to be able to accomplish this. They need validating. They need to use others as mirrors because they do not know how to validate themselves.

I am not just a mirror, or just a reflection of you, for if I was, there could only be one person in a relationship. And then, obviously, if there is only person, there is no relationship. I had a mirror-type "relationship" before. A man with no real identity of his own who didn't understand that he had placed a mirror in front of his face. His only desire was to be with me, to do everything with me, to grant my every wish. In a way, I could say that it was like being married to myself. Perhaps if I had needed him to validate me, the relationship might have worked, although it still would not have been what I could consider to be a healthy relationship. I did not want a relationship with someone who simply reflected me back at me. To use an analogy I like to use often when speaking about personal relationships, in a job interview, you may be asked what it is that you feel you can "bring to the table." The prospective employer does not want you to repeat what he has already heard or what he already knows. He wants to hear what special qualities you think you have that will enable you to bring fresh ideas to his company. Are you simply going to mirror the company's current philosophy or do you have the ability to give them fresh insight?

Most people do not want a relationship based on mirror images. If this is the sum total of the relationship, it will fail. As a prospective employee, or as in any personal relationship, if I am required to be a mirror, a "yes man," I will run in the other direction sooner or later. Business or friendship, that type of relationship is unhealthy.

Thursday, September 11, 2003 ~

As the school year in the Northeast began last week, I found myself thinking back to how I felt when I left a child at the school entrance for the first time. We try so hard as parents to teach our children how to behave appropriately. As they walk through that door without us, we stand and watch them with mixed feelings. They will experience for the first time the thoughts, words, and actions of others without us standing behind them to guide them. We are at the same time proud of them and worried for them. We cannot control what will occur behind the closed door of the classroom - not the words and behavior of a teacher, nor those of children who may have been brought up with different values. We spend that first day watching the clock and holding our breath the whole time. Will little Johnny make it through the day in a way that not only will make us proud of him, but in a way that will make him proud of himself? Will we be able to send him off on the second day confidant that we will not spend the rest of our lives needing to be hyper-vigilant about his ability to handle in an appropriate manner the words and situations that will be thrown his way?

What will happen between that first day and the morning he wakes up and realizes that even though he is using his allowance to save for a motorcycle, he will still be expected to put gas in the family car?

This is interesting and worth thinking about:

The Bridge

There was a man who had given much thought to what he wanted from life. He had experienced many moods and trials. He had experimented with different ways of living, and he had had his share of both success and failure. At last, he had begun to see clearly where he wanted to go.

Diligently, he searched for the right opportunity. Sometimes he came close, only to be pushed away. Often he applied all of his strength and imagination, only to find the path hopelessly blocked. And then at last it came! But the opportunity would not wait. It would be made available only for a short time. If it were seen that he was not committed, the opportunity would not come again.

Eager to arrive, he started on his journey. With each step, he wanted to move faster; with each thought about his goal, his heart beat quicker; with each vision of what lay ahead, he found renewed vigor. Strength that had left him since his early youth returned, and desires, all kinds of desires, reawakened from their long-dormant positions.

Hurrying along, he came upon a bridge that crossed through the middle of a town. It had been built high above a river in order to protect it from the floods of spring.

He started across. Then he noticed someone coming from the opposite direction. As they moved closer, it seemed as though the other was coming to greet him. He could clearly see, however, that he did not know this other, who was dressed similarly except for something tied around his waist.

When they were within hailing distance, he could see that what the other had about his waist was a rope. It was wrapped around him many times and probably, if extended, would reach a length of 30 feet.

The other began to uncurl the rope, and, just as they were coming close, the stranger said, "Pardon me, would you be so kind as to hold the end a moment?"

Surprised by this politely phrased but curious request, he agreed without a thought, reached out, and took it.

"Thank you," said the other, who then added, "two hands now, and remember, hold tight." Whereupon, the other jumped off the bridge.

Quickly, the free-falling body hurtled the distance of the rope's length, and from the bridge, the man abruptly felt the pull. Instinctively, he held tight and was almost dragged over the side. He managed to brace himself against the edge, however, and after having caught his breath looked down at the other dangling, close to oblivion.

"What are you trying to do?" he yelled. "Just hold tight," said the other "This is ridiculous," the man thought and began trying to haul the other in. He could not get the leverage, however. It was as though the weight of the other person and the length of the rope had been carefully calculated in advance so that together they created a counterweight just beyond his strength to bring the other back to safety.

"Why did you do this?" the man called out. "Remember," said the other, "if you let go, I will be lost." "But I cannot pull you up," the man cried. "I am your responsibility," said the other. "Well, I did not ask for it," the man said. "If you let go, I am lost," repeated the other.

He began to look around for help. But there was no one. How long would he have to wait? Why did this happen to befall him now, just as he was on the verge of true success? He examined the side, searching for a place to tie the rope. Some protrusion, perhaps, or maybe a hole in the boards. But the railing was unusually uniform in shape; there were no spaces between the boards. There was no way to get rid of this newfound burden, even temporarily.

What do you want?" he asked the other hanging below. "Just your help," the other answered. "How can I help? I cannot pull you in, and there is no place to tie the rope so that I can go and find someone to help me help you." "I know that. Just hang on; that will be enough. Tie the rope around your waist; it will be easier."

Fearing that his arms could not hold out much longer, he tied the rope around his waist. "Why did you do this?" he asked again. "Don't you see what you have done? What possible purpose could you have in mind?" "Just remember," said the other, "my life is in your hands."

What should he do? "If I let go, all my life I will know that I let this other die. If I stay, I risk losing my momentum toward my own long-sought-after salvation. Either way, this will haunt me forever." With ironic humor he thought to die himself, instantly, to jump off the bridge while he was still holding on. "That would teach this fool." But he wanted to live and live fully. "What a choice I have to make; How shall I ever decide?"

As time went by, still no one came. The critical moment of decision was drawing near. To show his commitment to his own goals, he would have to continue on his journey now. It was already almost too late to arrive in time. But what a terrible choice to have to make!

A new thought occurred to him. While he could not pull this other up solely by his own efforts, if the other would shorten the rope from his end by curling it around his waist again and again, together, they could do it! Actually, the other could do it by himself, so long as he, standing on the bridge, kept it still and steady.

"Now listen," he shouted down. "I think I know how to save you." And he explained his plan. But the other wasn't interested. "You mean you won't help? But I told you I cannot pull you up myself, and I don't think I can hang on much longer either." "You must try," the other shouted back in tears. "If you fail, I die!"

The point of decision had arrived. What should he do? "My life or this other's?" And then a new idea. A revelation. So new, in fact, it seemed heretical, so alien was it to his traditional way of thinking.

"I want you to listen carefully," he said, "because I mean what I am about to say. I will not accept the position of choice for your life, only for my own; the position of choice for your own life I hereby give back to you."

"What do you mean?" the other asked, afraid. "I mean, simply, it's up to you. You decide which way this ends. I will become the counterweight. You do the pulling and bring yourself up. I will even tug a little from here." He began unwinding the rope from around his waist and braced himself anew against the side.

"You cannot mean what you say!" the other shrieked. "You would not be so selfish. I am your responsibility. What could be so important that you would let someone die? Do not do this to me!"

He waited a moment. There was not change in the tension of the rope.

"I accept your choice," he said, at last, and freed his hands.

- Edwin H. Friedman
From the book "Friedman's Fables"

Tuesday, September 9, 2003 ~
When someone is told they are dying, they go through the process of grieving for themselves. But if, in the middle of this process, they are suddenly faced with the idea they might live afterall, what happens then? If life has been kind to them; if they have not had to wrestle with private demons; if they are surrounded by those who love them, I would think they would embrace life. But if, on the otherhand, life has been unkind; if there are too many demons; too many problems, is it possible to feel like even death has abandoned you?

"It's an awful risky thing to live." --Carl Rogers

Monday, September 8, 2003 ~
I love you, Lion.

What IS love?

Sunday, September 7, 2003 ~
A note: Tripod has evidently added advertising to the bottom of this page. I did not put it there and do not endorse anything they have chosen to put there.

We had good news this past week in regard to the lion's physical health. His oncologist ordered a bone scan which was done Tuesday and he found no signs of cancer there. His blood tests were great, as well. Again, he told us this does not mean the lion is cured, for there is no cure, but we do not have to go back for 3 weeks, at which point, the oncologist will discuss more radiation treatments, as this type of cancer has a tendency to hide in the brain. It is very possible that Laf will see remission.

I should want to feel like jumping for joy, but cannot muster the energy to jump for anything. Even the immediate future appears bleak to me right now. Any thought of visiting my children has had to be put on hold indefinitely. I cannot see anything that will make it possible to alter that decision.

The lion took me to the Dekalb Farmer's market last night and I enjoyed that. We did not find his butter beans, but he got corn and okra and his cinnamon rolls and I chose a loaf of fresh Jewish rye and tiramisu, which I have only ever had once when daughter Janna took me to lunch. It's delicious and I've nibbled at it several times today. The weather is much more to my liking and I've been able to open the windows. I finally got up enough energy to talk myself into attempting to clean those windows the other day. With all that is happened, the windows never got done in the spring. But plans changed and I still have yet to wash them. They may stay smudged forever.

Wednesday, September 3, 2003 ~
Thinking about Elizabeth's encouraging me to go back to school to get my degree in Psychology, I surfed through sites of individuals who have written about their illnesses. When I read this one, whose author began by saying "if you end up with a headache or become completely confused after reading this, then you know how I feel," I realized I will have to think long and hard about pursuing that goal. It didn't give me a headache, but it did exhaust me.

"Rage from nowhere, attached to nothing.... floating-freely from deep within me and ready in an instant to spew forth in what seem like instaneously-effortless bursts of unbridled entitlement to give me a sense of power amidst the feelings of helplessness that are my every waking moment. If I am helpless you are too powerful, no, I will be powerful. I will take your power away so you can be helpless. I don't do helpless. I am power. I must have the power. We can't both have the power. I want what is mine. You are mine right? I am not yours though, I cannot be anybody's because I am not even my own. I gave myself to you. We are each other right? I mean, what's the difference?

"Fear stikes me from all corners of my being. What, what is it that I am not seeing? Is not what I perceive what is really real? Why is it that I am the only one who sees what I see, just the way that I do? What does this mean? Surely this is what is wrong with the world right? I mean it can't be my problem. I am not afraid. I am not scared or weak or vulnerable. I need you..... NO!! ....I am strong and I don't need you. If you let me need you I won't want you anymore. And if you say I can't have you then I've got to have you. If you let me have you then I don't want you anymore. I want you when you don't want me and I need you when you won't help me. It is the biting and the pain of this cold distance that I know that somehow is familiar and is the feeling that I need to give me the illusion of safety. If I were truly safe I'd be exposed and not safe at all. Get away by coming closer and come closer by getting away. I am exposed most when I hide and hidden when I try to be who I think I am.

"Feeling alone, again, abandoned as always, alone, again. I am everyone and everyone is me. Who am I again? Oh yea, that person, and that person, and what (does) this person, and this person, want. Where does that leave me when I am alone? Who am I then? Do I cease to exist if I am not in the company of someone off of whom I can bounce my existence and from whom all of my validation must come?

"What is wrong with the world? Why can't they see my pain? Don't they know how incredibly much I hurt? Can't they see that I need them to hold some of this pain for me, validate it, and take it away; for my soul runneth over with agony. Why should I have to bear my own agony? It is not my fault. I didn't do this to me. I didn't choose to hurt like this. I am beside myself with all of this pain and anger and grief as is an infant whose mother is angry with him or her. What do I do with that angry face? It is not acceptance, it is rejecting me.....but I NEED it.....what am I to do? I don't know what to do so I put it beside me. Whatever it is, I leave it to sit there....and it builds over the course of a lifetime. It builds and it always hurts. It hurts even when I don't feel it at all. I need to get what I need. I'll die if I don't. I'll just die. I am dying to live and in my attempts to live I die.

"And so I have remained trapped inside this isolated, and insulated place of youth stunted in my emotional growth. I am a victim. It is not my fault. I hurt and I hurt and I hurt. Why don't you care? Why don't you care? Make it go away. Make it stop, just love me from over there. Love me, but don't you dare really care. It would hurt too much if you were to care. I wouldn't understand who you were caring for or about because I don't know who I am. I hate who I am and what I am. I hate whoever the hell I am. I have come to hate what it is that I might be, or sometimes am. I don't like the voided vacuum within which I feel like my being exists under a glass bubble. So close, yet so far away from others am I. So close, yet so far away, from whoever I am, am I. Who are you trying to care about? What does that mean, that you want to care about me? It would mean that I needed you to care. I don't need you to care but I am dying for you to care. Still, care from over there and don't act like I need you.

"Rescue me, by leaving me alone...it'll kill me. Leave me alone but rescue me. I need you to rescue me if I am to live. I am not alive. I am dead. I am dead when I try to be alive. I am alive when I act like I'm so dead I can't feel anything. There is such a sharp feel to the pain of numbness. Feeling the absence of myself like this. Where do the feelings go? Where does all of that pain hide? I dissociate from all that hurts. I give it to others. It is their fault, and their problem, not mine. Help me, while you leave me alone. Leave me alone while you help me. NOW!

"I am the center of the universe. Yes I am. I am it and it is me. I will act this way too, if I feel like it. No, you can't win. I will win. I'll get you coming and I'll get you going and there will be no way that you can win. I must always win. I need to control because I feel so helplessly out of control, but you can't know that. You can't know that okay, you don't know that about me. I don't know that about me. I don't know you and cause I don't know me. You can't know me either. No, I won't let you in to a place that I have yet to gain access to. No, me first.

"Who am I? I thought I knew just a minute ago. Then, suddenly nothing felt familiar anymore. Nothing felt okay anymore: nothing felt SAFE anymore - nothing felt as it had before. Why does this happen and what does it mean? What do you mean you don't know? You are supposed to know. I expect you to know. And if I expect it then I have a right to demand it from you. Don't go asking me for anything, NO, it depends how I feel, and what I believe in any given moment...you just never can know cause I never know what I'll do or say or feel. Every moment changes and shifts from one to the next. What is real, what is truth, whether or not I think I can take care of myself or what I feel, or right or wrong, from minute to minute changes, so I really just don't know. I don't care to know. Don't bother me about it. Leave me alone, just stay here. And be quiet while you talk to me. Talk to me silently. Words can hurt. Don't be too quiet in your silence though, because silence can kill a soul. I know, it killed mine over and over again. Dead, time and time again, risen hopes, only to fall and to die, unanswered, arms outstretched, never reached for, never grasped, arms that hung outstretched while a little (child) screamed in terror and fear and had more need than any infant could possibly bear to hold. Arms...that had to hold themselves, suspended in mid air, left alone, ignored. Arms that would take another 36 years to ever dare to reach out again. So hold me, and rock me -- rock me to stillness -- gently okay, just don't touch me really, you know?

"Truth, you want to talk truth? Whose truth, yours or mine? Is there a truth between? No, my truth is truth. Your idea of truth is a lie. I don't lie. If I don't lie and our truths aren't the same that makes you a liar. Does so....just does. If I am right then you are wrong. Yes you are. No I'm not. If I am good then you are bad if you don't agree with me and or see things my way. My way isn't just right, it is the only way. What matters is what I want and need. That's my truth. And my truth is the truth. Don't you even try to lie to me, don't...

"I know things but they seem fleeting. What is real and important one minute is fragile and or gone and or misunderstood-misperceived and mis-interpreted by me the next minute. I don't know why? You were here a minute ago and it mattered. But then you left. While you were gone for three minutes and fifty-four seconds (clock time -- forever in my own sense of the reality of time) I forgot that you mattered to me and now I find it incredibly impossible to believe that you could love me and leave me just like that for three minutes and fifty-four seconds...to wait and to suffer like that, alone, isolated and afraid. Don't ever do that again. Promise me! Do you have any idea what you put me through? My parents left me like that. It's not alright for you to just be you and not be me -- while I'm being you too. I know things seem fleeting. Things keep changing. I can't hold anymore than I am whether I am holding anything or not.

"You live in a "big picture." Life, so I am told unfolds in some "big picture" of reality. I live in millions of little pictures. Millions of pieces of reality. Snap shots from the whole, fragmented seconds of minutes that seem to encompass hours. I can't tell what is going on around me like you do. No, it does not make sense to me. Part of this picture lined up with part of that one...what am I supposed to see? What can I know from these mixed up jigsaw puzzle messages? I get part of it. I don't understand the rest. First you seem to make sense, then you don't so I get angry and frustrated. In one part of the picture I care about you but in another part of the picture I remember out of context when you said this or that and then I can't trust you anymore, or not until the next moment when two picture pieces fit briefly together. This is my experience. So one minute I want you close, from a distance and the next minute I want you distantly-close. This is what is going on inside of me. I don't want to hurt you like I do I just don't know how to make sense of all of these jumbled messages and fragmented pictures that bombard my mind constantly with images and thoughts that do not fit together, not now, not ever, hardly ever anyway. If memories are pictures of the way things were (or the way things are?)then my memories, like strewn screams, echo to a voided-abyss in a cavernous canyon. Imagine all of that sound overlapping itself. Could you hear me then, any better than I can hear you now?"

The author of the above must also have been exhausted after taking the time to describe what she/he was going through. Do I have the ability to become a therapist wise enough to help someone whose world is this frightening? I really am not sure.

I received a few responses to this post. Some were simple words of encouragement to pursue my interest in this subject and were appreciated greatly, although right now I am exploring many options. I also received a couple of responses from readers who recognized something of themselves in the excerpt I posted here, and as a result, told me they have decided to seek the help of a qualified therapist. I cannot claim any credit for the above (thank God). The woman who wrote it is A. J. Mahari. Ms. Mahari has fought her way through a disorder called Borderline Personality Disorder and during her recovery decided to share her experiences with other Borderlines, non-borderlines and clinicians in the hopes that they might shed new light on this disease. This particular disorder is often diagnosed with other disorders, such as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Histrionic Personality Disorder, and Bipolar Disorder, as well as others, such as Passive/Aggressive Personality Disorder (this last was removed from Axis II disorders, although I would have to agree with the question one who suffers from this disorder asked..."Why?".) I will repeat here that I am NOT a therapist and you are encouraged to educate yourself on the DSM-IV criteria before attempting self-diagnosis. Diagnosis is not easy, even for a qualified clinician. For instance, I've learned that those who suffer from borderline personality disorder, as did A.J. Mahari, are very likely to go undiagnosed for several reasons. (I stress did, because in regard to one comment that "she should get a grip," obviously, she did). This disorder is often associated with those who are highly intelligent. They are more likely to either deny a problem exists or to self-diagnose and attempt to deal with it alone. They have little to no concept of how their disorder effects those around them (how can they if they are either unaware of or deny the existence of a problem?) and thus perceive their problems to be caused by others. In either case, they are less likely to seek the help of a therapist. One of the other reasons is that this disorder is known to cause clinician "burn-out." As a result, there are some therapists who will avoid clients with this disorder or who will misdiagnose and send the client off with a prescription. It is easy to understand why this would occur once you have educated yourself about A.J.'s disorder. Another very important point is to understand that not all disorders are treated the same way. For instance, bipolar disorder is, as a rule, treated with the emphasis on medication first, therapy second. In contrast, borderline personality disorder is treated with long-term therapy first and then medication as deemed necessary. This is another reason you should not attempt self-diagnosis or try to deal with a problem alone.

Tuesday, September 2, 2003 ~
Bone scan at the hospital this morning. Have you finished your Christmas shopping yet?

Monday, September 1, 2003 Labor Day ~Cloudy and humid. It's still too hot to turn the a/c off. It's been running non-stop for a full month now. I had a rotten night's sleep. I was hot and there were more hospital dreams. Reality isn't much better as I turn FOX News on and listen to reports of the Taliban trying to regroup and bin Laden's desire to plan a massive attack on the United States using biological weapons.

Saturday, August 30, 2003 ~It's almost noon, cloudy, still humid, but not quite as bad as it was. It was another exhausting week as those of you who visited forum already know. Laf did not receive his last growth hormone shot and was, instead, admitted to Athens Regional again. Because I don't drive, that meant I was stuck there with nothing to do but help the nurses and attendants with the Lion. I went outside from time to time and played hand-held Yahtzee or chatted with others, asking them why they were there and listening to their stories. It's pretty sad to think we've been there so much that when another person gets on the elevator I can push the correct button for their floor without asking them where they are going. The security guards know me by name and stop to chat and I could plot the landscaping around the hospital from memory. On Tuesday morning when the doctor came in and said he was not going to discharge Laf, I lost it and went outside and found a spot to sit and cry. A very kind lady on her way into the finance building stopped to ask if I was ok and I said no. Everything came pouring out and she was probably late for work, although she never once acted like that bothered her. I was a complete wreck and looked horrible and according to everyone else, I looked tired. Make up usually hides that, but I didn't have that with me. I'd slept in my clothes and they were wrinkled and smelly. The mood persisted the whole day and on Wednesday morning when the doctor came in and said he was going to keep him yet another day, I had all I could to keep from blowing up. The cat had gone without food for 2 days and I hadn't even remembered my water fountain was still going until the Lion mentioned it. Then all I did was worry that the motor had burned out and started a fire. He was angry that I was angry and he called Lutfy and asked him to come get me, which he did shortly after noon Wednesday. Laf started feeling poorly again not too long before I left. Linnie, the R.N. said she thought he just didn't want me to leave. She was probably at least half-right. When Lutfy finally arrived, the 3 of us headed downstairs and outside to sit and chat for a little while. Then Lutfy took the bags to his car and brought it around for me while I pushed the Lion and his IV pole back to the 5th floor. We said our good-byes and I went down to meet Lutfy. Lutfy is a delightful young man and he chattered the entire way back - to the point where we almost missed the last turn for the hovel. We'd stopped briefly at the doctor's office to pick up the Lion's scooter. It was in the same place he'd left it. The girls came out to help immediately. They'd kept the key and cord in a safe place for me and they asked how Laf was doing. Really nice ladies. Anyway, when we got home, Lutfy and I put the scooter back together as we'd taken it apart for transport. He loved driving it around. He came in and I got him a Pepsi and between the 2 of us we got Ayo fed and water in the fountain, which had been making a horrendous noise when I walked in, and Lutfy made himself a bologna sandwich. He talked excitedly for close to an hour about his job, about Clark Howard, about ideas he has for his future. He had to meet a client and I walked him outside. He had a twinkle in his eyes when he said, "You know, Tio doesn't have to do all that cremation stuff." I caught his drift and countered with, "You mean we'll just have a big bonfire?" He laughed outloud and said, "Yeah! And we'll have a party and drink and drink some more and tell jokes and remember all the great stuff about him." Then he said, Now, see? If I leave here and don't make it home, I want you to call my mom and tell her that's what Lutfy said he wanted too. That's what I want. A party and friends and drinking and fun." Sounds good to me, Lutfy. The Lion laughed outloud when I told him what his nephew's plans for him were.

I ran around trying to clean up the mess, sending quick replies to emails of concern about the Lion, and called Katie. The two of us talked for close to 2 hours after not having spoken for almost 2 years and it was beautiful! I slept hard that night and the Lion called to wake me at 8, then again at 8:30 with the news that he was going to be discharged. Unfortunately, he never made it home until 4 p.m. Evidently his ride came earlier than expected and just as he'd wheeled himself into the coffee shop for something cold to drink. They couldn't find him and left without him and so began a day filled with tempers flaring, hurt feelings, phone calls back and forth from the Lion, to the Lion, to the social worker who was responsible for setting up the ride to begin with, to Logisticare...and all the while, I was running around here, doing dishes, laundry, cleaning, picking up, fresh linens on the bed...I worked until the van pulled up, then drove his scooter up the drive so he could ride it back down to the door. Honey, I'm home.
I've been here, but haven't felt like bringing up Journal to write, I guess. I've just had too many things on my mind. We drove around last night after running errands and looked at houses for rent, but our lease has to be renewed soon and it is unrealistic to think with my bank acct. dried up and nothing but SSI coming in, that we could move. Even if we found a place, there are connection charges, rent deposit, things like that, plus finding people to help us move a ton of stuff - just too much to deal with now. Heck, we can't even afford to live here at the hovel anymore. I would love to move to where we have privacy and trees and I could have a garden and a place to sit outside. Perhaps if the Lion begins to think about living rather than dying and we plan it out and work for it, we can do it next year - or even do it anyway in 6 months and say to heck with the deposit we'd lose here. We're going to lose it anyway as they will probably want to replace the carpet. But any move MUST be realistically planned out. I cannot live in fantasyland where death is considered imminent, so words can be spoken because they don't have to be acted upon because of it. Death ends obligation and responsibility. The process of dying does not. Dying is easier than living, but what the heck do I know?

I've spent some time recently browsing through various online support groups for caregivers because there are times when I get tired and frustrated. I haven't joined any of these discussions, preferring to just read right now. As I've surfed through some of these sites and to some of the links offered, I've come across many links to sites dealing with depression and other disorders, generic mental health sites, various abstracts dealing with specifics. Reading through these pages brought back memories as well as regrets. Studies on personality were always my thing and psychology and philosophy were my pursuits in college until my rat, Freddie, died in the lab. Actually, it wasn't my fault. He had developed cancer. But I lost interest, dropped out, hung out, and got married. Sometimes I think I'd like to go back to school and get that degree in psychology because I've never lost interest in the subject. I'm not sure I have the energy or desire, however, to speak in terms of conflicts between the id, ego, and superego for 4 or 5 years or more. Even so, I have to admit that it would be challenging to put what I've learned over the past 32 years to professional use. I've never been in therapy myself, (that could change, considering the way I've been feeling lately), however I know plenty who have. I've watched therapists in action enough to know that the truly good ones are those who can take incredible verbal abuse from their clients and use the knowledge they garnish from those confrontations to assist them. I've watched therapists be manipulated by those who think they are smart enough to fool them or who blatantly lie to them. Whether the therapist can be manipulated or not depends on the therapist's own intelligence and knowledge. It also depends on how long the therapy continues. Too many therapists are willing to prescribe after one session and too many clients decide too quickly that the therapist cannot solve their problem/s for them and discontinue therapy. What they don't realize is that if they don't give the therapist a chance, they are not giving themselves a chance either. This means that not only will they continue living with the problem, so will their loved ones. They also don't realize that it is not the therapist's job to solve their problems for them, but rather to assist them in finding ways to solve their own problems. A client must admit that a problem exists, be willing to work hard to discover exactly what the problem is and then to accept that there are no miracles - that the road to recovery may be a long, painful and arduous one. I had to force a child of my own into therapy. It was painful for me to do that, but it was more painful to live with a daughter who was depressed enough to want to try to kill herself.

On this same subject, a friend recently shared with me the fact that she is in therapy and that others in her family are also seeing therapists. I know a little about the reasons why, but do not pry. She shares when she needs or wants to. But I do know that some of the issues that concern her have to do with her father and his refusal to seek help for his problem. I must applaud her for her intelligent and wise decision to ask for assistance in dealing with these issues. She is not to blame for her father's problems, (and they are HIS problems), but they have effected her and helped make her the person she is. She has approached this exceedingly well. She is highly intelligent and does not seek to prove how smart she is to her therapist, or, as some clients will do, try to test the therapist. She truly wants to discuss her issues in an attempt to gain insight into her father and into herself, so as to become whole by feeling mentally healthy. You don't have to let it go, but you do have to work it out.

As you will note, I mentioned that not only has she sought help, but other of her family members have as well. Because one person's mental illness effects everyone he or she comes in contact with and can devastate families, the best therapists will also involve family members or loved ones in the process whenever possible. When I had my daughter in therapy, she attempted to manipulate her therapist with outright lies. The therapist asked me to come for separate sessions and joint sessions to see how my daughter and I interacted. She also asked my husband to come in, as well, although as he worked out of town, he was fairly clueless about the actual problems. He was, however, very aware that there was definitely a problem. I cannot speak highly enough of good therapists who demand that the entire family or a loved one be involved in a client's therapy. Unfortunately, many clients, especially those who deny a problem exists, will be completely unaware of how or why their behavior could and does effect others. Like my friend's father. To him, it is everyone else who has problems - not him.

So, I will continue to peruse articles such as this Rage, Shame, and the Death of Love by William Cloke, Ph.D., which is probably too dry for most tastes, but which has meaning for me. If you have time, I would highly recommend the article. It is excellent.

Monday, August 25, 2003 ~
This is the last day of growth hormone shots, thank God. Wednesday, we go back for his Procrit shot, as we will do once a week from now until who knows. The lion is still unable to eat solid food. Not even popcorn, Hope.

Yesterday was my youngest daughter's 22nd birthday and I heard her say, "I love you, Mom" for the first time in 2 years. I love you too, Katie.

10 p.m., Thursday, August 21 (I think), 2003 ~
I'm only in for a sec. We have enjoyed another week from and in hell. Good news...yay! The lion rec'd a scooter from the American Cancer Society. If y'all coulda seen the look on his face driving that thing around! "It's given me back my freedom," he said with an ear-to-ear grin. Hey! I even used it to go up the street to the mailboxes tonight. The dr. changed the growth hormone at Laf's request, but I'm not so sure it's the hormone shot that's making him so ill. I tried making a whole meal last night and the first bite had him throwing up. I tried the leftovers as a sandwich a few minutes ago and he threw that up. He hasn't asked for popcorn lately. I think he got pretty sick of it, but we may have to go back to that for a few days. Matter of fact, I just talked him into trying that. We'll see how he does. My laundry is ready for the dryer, which means I can fix my own sammich, turn out the lights and hit the sack soon. There's a lot I've left out over the past week. Maybe some of it will filter in here during the next few days. My Yahpoo mail was waaaayyy over quota, so some of you may have bounce-backs and I apologize. Between our schedule lately and this danged virus/worm, all of my emails have been over quota. Within only a few hours, I'd rec'd 9 obvious virus-laden emails in hotmail bulk mail...all close to 100K each. It doesn't take too many of those to throw you over quota. No infection here, but still a pain in the behind.

Lion, I'm not goin' anywhere.

Monday, August 18, 2003 ~As my divorce is not final (my fault), I guess I have, as of today, been married for 30 years. When the lion did my taxes the other day, he left my occupation as "housewife," but I am not a housewife. Frankly, I don't know what I am anymore. After 2 mornings at Athens hospital for growth hormone shots, he is not doing well at all. The van will be here at noon for a 1 p.m. appt. at the doctor's office for the 3rd shot out of 10. But he was so ill yesterday, that I find myself packing for another overnight stay just in case. I feel panicky this morning. Cards and gifts for the kids are late. Medicaid is still screwed up and not paying for meds because they think he is on hospice. Social Security will not issue a card because they say they need documents, one of which is the birth certificate that Ms. Henson at the SS office said SHE would send for and give us a copy. That was months ago. If we'd known that she wasn't going to follow up and do what she said she was going to do, we would have sent for it ourselves. We had the application papers directly in front of us, but she said she was going to take care of this for us. State offices could save themselves so much time and money if they would stop hiring gray matter-deficient imbeciles.

Thursday, August 14, 2003 ~
Even with a noon pickup for a 1 p.m. apppointment, I am rushing this morning, as well. Yesterday's treatment did NOT go well. Laf's blood pressure dropped, his pulse sky-rocketed and his O2 sat went to 74%. The nurse stopped the chemo and put him on oxygen and fluids. He'd had an injection of Procrit prior to the premeds. I have no idea if he was reacting to the Procrit or what, but the day lasted forever. By the time we got home, it was a rush to get necessary errands done. I had a new prescription and had to wait half an hour for that, only to find out that Medicaid will not pay for anything because they are still saying he is on Hospice, which was revoked in July. Something has to be done about Medicaid and the idiots who run it and work for it. The lion says Medicaid is trying to kill him and I'm beginning to agree with him. Because his O2 sat got so low yesterday, the doctor is sending him over to the hospital for another blood gases test today. And of course his blood gases will be fine for the test and not low enough to suit Medicaid so he can qualify for O2...until the next time it drops. The problem is that Medicaid will not accept the way the doctor's office gets the O2 reading with the finger monitor. Because of the problems yesterday, which will cause us to stay at the doctor's office for 4 hours today (or more) and the additional trip over to the hospital for the blood gases, tonight will be much like last night, with no time left for me to do anything other than cooking and cleaning and laundry before passing out to repeat the process tomorrow.

I couldn't possibly have been more correct in my prediction of how the day would go.

From Microsoft Encarta Quote of the Day:
"A person often falls very ill in order to become someone else and then returns to health much disappointed." Elias Canetti

News from the hovel: Herb was diagnosed 2 days ago with diabetes. Draggie is recovering from knee surgery. Deb has returned to Florida from her visit to NY, Hope is dealing courageously with skin cancer, Janna is expecting her 2nd child in March, my youngest is expecting her first in February. We didn't hear diddly about the outage in the Northeast until we returned home tonight. My kids are all without power. And yes, guys, I am quite old enough to remember the first big one. We had Spanish Rice for supper (which I hated) and my mother read to us by the light of the fireplace (which I loved). Honey and Tammey both got married this past week. We have not heard from Patsy recently and I feel horrible that I haven't had a chance to talk to ZDr in the past several weeks. Nola and Ted left to start their summer vacation several days ago. Janna and Chris will be celebrating their anniversary next week; Rob has a birthday on the 20th and my littlest angel will celebrate her last birthday unattached next Sunday. And I almost forgot, daughter Janna got the msblast worm, but has recovered. I wish the rest of you freedom from the worm, however, I will warn you that the word is out that those responsible plan to flood the windows update site Saturday, so if you want the fix, please try to get there tomorrow.

Lion, question number 2 was a given, but I notice that you don't seem to have an answer to question number 1.

Wednesday, August 13, 2003 ~
It's a cool morning, but horribly humid. The lion begins his last round of chemo today and as I could not get up with the alarm, I am rushing. Today will be the longest of the 3 days and as he is feeling 100% better than he was, I hope he will be able to get through it a little easier this time.

Tuesday, August 12, 2003 ~
Recently, I listened to a good ol' Southern boy explain to me his view of life and the unimportance of money. He told me he made "enough to get by" and that he carried no health insurance and didn't consider it important. He is divorced and has a daughter who lives with her mother, evidently. His theories had a "nice," idealistic ring to them. I'm all for the idea that we don't need to be millionaires to enjoy life, however it sounded to me like he was using his theories as a cover story for the fact that he didn't feel like exerting himself for anyone, including his daughter. I have a problem with those who do not understand that their responsibilities do not end with their own pursuit of happiness; that they are tied, whether they like it or not, to others. It is part of the Peter Pan Syndrome, which has become so prevalent in our society. Peter Pan may not have had a mortgage, but he did have to eat. He did not farm or have a job. He spent most of his time taking children out of their beds to accompany him on fanciful flights over the countryside. What will happen to our good ol' Southern boy if an accident occurs and he can no longer support himself or send support money to his daughter? We all need dreams and to enjoy an occasional flight with Peter Pan, but if you jump out the window with him, make sure you take your wallet.

Sunday, August 10, 2003 ~I've been in the middle of a discussion about religion and spirituality with Laf's cousin. It may be pointless because as intelligent people have a tendency to do sometimes, she allows thinking to get in the way. Faith and spirituality have very little to do with intellect. We have not yet discussed what happens when obstacles are suddenly removed from one's path. Many are more comfortable hiding behind an obstacle, than in having it removed. If it suddenly disappears, they will waste no time in building new ones. It's like sitting on the john and having someone suddenly open the door.

Thursday, August 7, 2003 ~
7:45 p.m. The lion ended up being taken from the doctor's office to the hospital for overnight observation. He did NOT get chemo. We are back home and actually have possible good news. Tonight I'm going to kick back, have something to eat and watch "Pay It Forward" with the lion. I'll get in here tomorrow to let you know what happened and what the news from the doctor is.

Wednesday, August 6, 2003 ~
7:30 a.m. I posted briefly at forum. Perhaps I will have a chance to write here later today. The lion starts his 4th course of chemo this morning. He's not doing well at all.

Noon, Friday, August 1, 2003 ~
Happy Birthday, Dad. Posting briefly for now. The past week has been so lousy that it's probably for the best that I haven't been in here to write. I read a couple of news articles off my msn homepage and regretted clicking on an article about privacy concerns off "Wired," as I was blasted with cookies and popups and javascripts which wouldn't let me do anything until they timed out. I have doubts about the convenience of Popup Stopper, as it takes longer to stop the popups than it takes to close the stupid things. I have a real problem with cookies anyway. They are necessary evils on secure sites, but I consider them an infringement on my right to privacy.

Monday, July 28, 2003, 9:20 a.m.
Quiet. I had planned on staying up for awhile last night, but Laf was awake late, missing his son, depressed about events that had caused his life to be the way it was. His parents' ignorance set him up for a lifetime of searching elsewhere for the things all children need. Unconditional love, feelings of self-worth ~ those things that are a child's right. Without them, too much time is wasted looking for them and very often in the wrong places.

I caught daughter Janna for a quick chat this morning. She has her dr. appt. this morning to confirm pregnancy and she has another for emergency dental, which won't be quite so much fun. She asked if there was anything legal she could do to cheer up the lion. I explained he'd prefer illegal. She tells me Bob Hope died today. She also bragged about the weather in NY. 80 and no humidity. Unlike here. I turned the a/c off for a bit, but I can feel the humidity and heat building and should probably turn it back on.

2:10 p.m. ~ After 4 or 5 calls from the same client, the lion finally dragged himself to the office, but reading email, forum, and journal was all he could handle before heading back to bed. I massaged his leg for him and he asked if I could feel the knots, but what I really felt was bone and tendons and I couldn't help but compare the size of my wrist and his ankle. He asked to try some applesauce, but didn't have the strength to lift himself off the pillow when I brought it to him.

aaarrrgggghhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can yell too, lion. Right now I'm feeling like I could use help...I haven't eaten. I don't care. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of hearing "hurry, hurry, hurry" when I'm already running my behind off. Sometimes there are just too many words.

I brought the wheelchair in earlier to see if I could maneuver it through the house, but it won't fit through the bedroom door. There was a peeper on the chair and it hopped off onto the cement. I thought about catching it for Cory next door, but had no time to do that then. It is beautiful outside and too hot inside. When I first arrived here, I'd planned on buying one of those door screens for apartments. I wish I had because the biggest breeze comes through the doors, not the windows.

It's almost midnight. The lion sleeps quietly now. I haven't eaten, but I'm not sure what to fix. Maybe a hotdog with relish and cheese.

I spent the afternoon between phone calls to the doctor's office to determine next week's appt. times and writing to the lion's brother, nephew and son to let them know what was going on. Of all of them, Lutfy, his nephew, checks in the most and seems to care the most. He's a sweetheart. I will ask him to be a pall bearer. Laf's brother will be and he wants Arden, but I'm not sure Arden will come even. He would like my son, Nate, too. I haven't asked him yet, but Nate is a given. I don't question for one second that he would not be here. As long as Barry isn't sitting in a jail cell someplace, we will ask him. Kevin is so far away, but Gil would agree, of course.

Just after midnight. I was just going to eat and call it a night when the lion called for me again. This time there was blood. I am expecting a call from Dr. Thomas in the morning.

I'm just one person. I'm not a nursing professional. I'm doing the best I can.

Sunday, July 27, 2003 ~
The Lion says we are now down to 183 days left. Trying to fix him something to eat last night was a mistake. He got up out of bed and sat in his chair. I was setting up his tray when he told me not to bother. I threw my burger on a roll with a slice of tomato, ate, put things away and told him I wanted to go to bed. "In a minute," he said. I sat down and the next thing I knew it was 2 hours later and he was asleep.

I did my usual dance with the alarm clock this morning and managed to drag myself up at 6:45. The driver, this time, David, from Vel Medical Transport, was on time. David is a good 'ol Southern boy. He made me laugh and reminded me of Wildman Barry. We heard from Barry this past week - the first time since before Christmas. We'd gone looking for him a couple of months ago, but the warehouse he called home was empty. From what we could tell, the next time we hear from him, it could be that one call he'll be allowed to make. We were exactly on time for our 9 a.m. appointment. Laf got his last shot and called David. It had taken us all of 10 minutes and David didn't get to kick his feet up and read the Sunday paper at Huddle House as he'd planned. He turned around and came back for us and we were home by 10:15. He gave me his card and told me to call him anytime. Laf sat down for a few minutes before deciding to go back to bed. I worked here for a few, made myself a sandwich and tried to nap with no luck. I went in to check on the Lion and he was determined to get up, so I got him his meds and refreshed his tea and out here with me he be. He asked to try the fruit cocktail from last night and is working on that as I type.
He managed half of that, then went back to sleep. He'd mentioned wanting fries earlier, so I panfried some steak fries. He didn't even get half of one down before throwing it up. I asked him how far the food was getting before it started back up on him and he said it's not even getting past his throat. I'd been worried that the cancer had spread to his stomach. I'm not sure exactly what it going on because he isn't having any problem swallowing his meds. Needless to say, at 8:20, I talked him back into bed and he's watching the boxing match. I spent the afternoon just doing household chores - nothing special. I don't want to start sleeping in just because I can tomorrow. This whole thing starts all over on the 6th of August. But, at least, I will be able to relax a bit in the morning instead of rushing as I have for the past 13 days.
Draggie, thanks for the email. I DID have a bad night last night and was feeling very down. Tell Andy thank you for me, but where would I put all my stuff?

I'm not ready to give up hope yet, although the Lion has come very close this week to wanting to do just that. He just wants to hold Arden one last time.

6 p.m., Saturday, July 26, 2003 ~
I have no energy at all lately. I fix this food, that snack, a glass of this or that to no avail. The lion continues to be nauseated. The sink is full of dirty dishes, the bed is unmade, there is paperwork...so many things which need to be done. My stomach is in knots all of the time. Tomorrow is our last day in Athens for a week, but even that thought gives little comfort. He didn't have this same reaction with the neulasta, but damned medicaid won't pay for that and he is forced to take a substitute which makes him sicker. Our rides have been better for the past 2 days. We still had over an hour wait to be taken home this morning, but it was beautiful outside - cooler and dryer with a pleasant breeze. The lion read while I wandered around trying to think about the future which seems vague and desolate now. I try to nap, but can't do that either. Every noise startles me and I end up giving up.

Nate tells me his training went "ok." Just "ok." He says he has been away from engineering for too long, so he is hoping to find something else with Semtek. I was hoping that maybe he would finally settle into something permanent. He and the lion have more in common than just musical interests.

We had a brief rain shower, then the sun appeared and it warmed up and became more humid. I played in the Harry Arnold Creek for a short time, then took the kitchen trash can outside to hose it out and disinfect it. I came back inside to discover the lion had climbed into bed. It was only 7 p.m. I turned the TV off and can hear the guy across the street playing music while he washes his truck. Small planes fly low. There is a small landing strip about a mile away. On weekends, the sky is usually filled with sky divers and strange-looking flying machines. Now that the wind has died down, there are a few diehards out there trying to make a few jumps before the sun sets. I was surprised to see a small jet plane land there a few days ago. I wouldn't have thought the strip was long enough for a landing.

I would die for an ice cold Michelob Light right about now. Some chips and onion dip and maybe the devilled ham dip with fresh veggies I used to make.

I was trying to think what foods I enjoy so much that I'd make them for myself. Red beans and rice I would do. My lasagna. Hamburger and gravy on biscuits or bread. My chicken plate salad. Turkey and my grandmother's stuffing and giblet gravy. Egg salad and tuna salad. Kraft macaroni and cheese. Hot dogs with chili or relish and cheese. Not much really. If I don't feel like cooking, I'll eat anything in sight...peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches, bologna and mustard or bologna and tomatoes and mayo. Baked potato with cheese is good. A good ham can be used for a bezillion things...from sandwiches to a dinner to a ham and cheese omelet. I like nuked chicken cordon bleu, but it's not easy to find around here. So is spaghetti with veal, another thing I can't find. I like my old chicken and rice recipe and my old pork chop and orange rice recipe and my sister's cheesy potato bake. Plain old hamburger will do, although I do love the lion's hamburger steaks. I miss Steve's Place turkey clubs, although I would eat their fries (or anyone's) only if I had room. I want to kill my kids when they tell me they have had a Steve's Place turkey club in my honor! (Oh thanks guys, I love you too). I love Laf's potato salad and chicken salad, but I would need the thought of company coming as I'm just so lazy these days when it comes to preparing food. Actually, I take that back. It's not laziness. Cooking is simply something that for the most part, I do not enjoy. It requires too much of my time and there are other things I'd rather do.

It's 8:30. Dishes are going in the dishwasher it took the lion a full year into talking me into using. I still think it does a sucky job, but I guess it's better than the 2 hours it was taking me to handwash the dishes. I think I'm going to change into something comfy and start laundry. I'm down to next to nothing for clothes, so it becomes necessary to do laundry every other day. I need a haircut badly, but the girls we found to do our hair are far away. The lion certainly doesn't need a cut right now and I am simply going to have to find someone closer. Even if I get my license, I'm not going to be comfy driving that far right away and my bangs are in my eyes NOW and it's taking me twice as long as it should to dry my hair. I'm beginning to look like a cocker spaniel.

Another load of laundry with "dry" cleaning waiting in the wings. Vacuumed fans and rugs. Put a baked potato in the oven for the lion if he wakes. Have 2 thawed burgers...no clue what to do with them...fix both for myself? Wait to see if he might be able to eat one? I found a rubber band for my hair and plunked it on top of my head. God, I'm hot. It's too late to do anything that requires a brain...mine, at least. Besides, I'm looking at a 6:15 wake up call from my alarm. I'm hungry, though. I'm thinking I might cook up the two hamburgers I thawed this afternoon. I do have fresh rolls.

10:15 p.m. I'm regretting fixing this food. There's no guarantee I can wake him or that he will be able to eat and I could go to bed right now and sleep heavily.

Sitting here with an ad for tires in front of me...and thinking tags, insurance, AAA. And McCoy picking up a new driver's manual after his sister's funeral.

Still 25 minutes to go on the baked potato. The lion is sleeping. Do I wake him? I have to, really...he has meds to take.

7:25 a.m., Friday, July 25, 2003 ~
Gee, now let me see, they are asking Robert Baer why we are in bed with the Saudis? Perhaps it is because the tree huggers in the United States are preventing us from being self-sufficient? The key to being a true "Super Power" is self-sufficiency. This applies to each and every free man, as well as to countries and governments. When the individual man becomes beholden to the state for his survival, he is no longer free. When a nation relies on another to supply that which is necessary for the survival of its people, it is no longer a free nation and it has compromised the freedom of its citizens.

On a personal level, I feel somewhat guilty for the need to avail ourselves of the medicaid van, but good planning for the future could have prevented the need for it. Self-employment may allow for the greatest amount of personal freedom and flexibility, but obtaining benefits may be too costly, which is why so many, men especially, wait until retirement or until financial stability is obtained to pursue other dreams. That is the way of the responsible and truly free man - to prepare while he can for curve balls and catastrophies. As a wife and stay-at-home mom, I was looking for the opportunity to begin to prepare myself for such things. I received an unexpected gift which allowed me to think I might have that opportunity now, but it was not to be and somehow, I must start all over again - this time from scratch, and very probably alone.

And now, as it is after 8 a.m., I have no more free time. Beauty must wake the Beast.

7:15 a.m., Thursday, July 24, 2003 ~
Ayo sits on the back of my chair, impatiently awaiting his breakfast. The sun rises behind clouds of blue and pink and the humidity is gone. We fell asleep in our recliners last night. The lion's food didn't stay down and neither of us budged after dinner. I woke up at 4 a.m., frantic because he'd missed the time he was supposed to take his first steroid pill. He washed it down with Pepsi and went to bed. I'd fallen asleep before clearing our trays or cleaning up the kitchen. The tongs were on the kitchen floor and I eyed Ayo suspiciously. I'm sure that pot of chicken on the stove had grabbed his interest while we were snoring away. It was too late for me to sleep well and I tossed and turned, my back stiff and achy as it always seems to be now. I will wake him now for his 2nd steroid pill, then let him sleep for half an hour. I need to spend extra time packing up this morning as we will be in Athens until suppertime. His CAT scan orders are here someplace...have to find them in this mess.

7:45 ~ I suppose I should drag my freight into the shower now. Our driver yesterday showed us the printout he picks up from Jason, the dispatcher. Someone is doing something wrong either at Logisticare or Guardian Angel. Laf is down for a 9:15 pick up, when it is supposed to be a 9:30 pick up and he is listed as being alone with no escort. I suppose I should call them this morning, as well, to reconfirm the confirmation of the confirmation. I time everything meticulously in the morning, but the van pulled up yesterday morning 45 minutes early and I'd just stepped out of the shower. I wanted to cry. I did, I think.

9:15...ready to go and just waiting for the van. The lion's head hurts. I grabbed his razor for him so he could touch up his chin and took a minute to run mine dry over my legs. Does anyone really look at a woman's legs when she is my age? Yeah...I do.

By the way, I've been advised that Internet Washer, which is advertising everywhere is major spyware. Don't click on their ads!

Gee, I was hoping to catch Uday and Qusay before we left. 9:29...down to the wire and the van is not here. Made a glass of Carnation Instant for Laf, who will not be able to eat or drink before the CAT scan.

10:00 a.m. Unbelievable! The van didn't show and I found myself dialing the "where the hell is the van?" phone number again. For once, I got a real, intelligent English-speaking human being. She checked on the ride and came back to tell me that the driver said he'd been here at 9:05. Either the driver or the dispatcher, Jason, in Conyers, is lying. No one was here. I was in and out, setting up the wheelchair outside the front door, and at times, sitting right here at my desk in the front room with windows which look out at the driveway. She knew, I think, that either the driver or the dispatcher was covering up for yet again another error. She made sure every pick up included me as Laf's escort and we went over numbers, times, etc. for every day through next Sunday. She was pleasant and apologetic and said she would take care of everything - that we shouldn't have to be going through any of this. She could hear a very disgruntled lion in the background yelling about getting a quality assurance number and she assured me she would take care of that, as well. Needless to say, our ride will not be here until 10:30 and we will be late for the dr. appt. I could have slept a whole extra hour.

10:30 p.m. ~
The lion plays "Janna's Song" in the office as I write this. It was an extraordinarily long day and one which went downhill from the point at which I last wrote here. 10:30 came and went with no sign of the Guardian Angel van. At 7 minutes before 11, Laf asked me to find his keys, which I did reluctantly. A few minutes past 11, he called Logisticare and for the next half hour proceeded to give them all his size 13 boot enema. When the van finally pulled up at 11:35, he was still giving them a piece of his mind. I saw McCoy step out of that van and I all but kissed the ground. He and Kim were the only drivers who could have calmed him down; McCoy especially, because he now has in his possession 2 bags of Camellia red beans and the lion's recipe for red beans and rice. We made it to Athens by 12:20, but it was lunchtime for the nurses and they were temporarily short-handed, so we had to wait for his shot. McCoy waited in the parking lot because after the shot, he would take us to the hospital for the lion's CAT scan. Brandi, another favorite at the doctor's office, spent some time with us while we waited for the shot. She spoke briefly about her divorce and her father, who was also a Marine with anger she thought exploited by them at the time of his service to his country. It was, of course. Create the perfect killing machine and don't worry about what the psychological damage will be to the candidate, if he should be so unfortunate as to survive. We left to register in the ER, then went to the radiology waiting room. I gave the lion the last of 3 doses of prednisone and 50 mg. of benadryl. Because they need to use IV contrast for the CAT scan and he is highly allergic to it, they had to load him with steroids prior to the scan. (Obviously, not a good thing for Logisticare and Guardian Angel, as they had a highly agitated lion to deal with when they screwed up this morning). The wait at the hospital was horrendously long and it was after 3 when Laf's turn came up. The receptionist called Guardian Angel the minute we left the waiting room. The CAT scan only takes 10 minutes and we wanted them there asap. The attendant ushered me out of the room at 3:10. I wandered down the hall and checked out a part of the hospital I'd yet to become familiar with, then made my way back to the closed door. The attendant came around the corner, saying Laf had a "slight" reaction. I was immediately on the alert. They opened the door to tell me that he was asking for Strawberry something. I smiled with a certain amount of relief. The lion's sense of humor was still intact. I asked immediately about his blood pressure. They were very concerned at the 80/50 numbers, but their worries about that dissipated when I told them he was normally low and those figures were about the same as he'd been at the doctor's office an hour and a half earlier. His pulse, however, had gone up over 200. It came down as we stood there, but they made the decision to take him to Trauma Room 2 in the ER. I went with them and once I'd answered some questions for them, I headed out to the front of the ER. This time, the Guardian Angel van had been there not only on time, but early. The van was out there, but there was no driver in sight and I went back in to ask if anyone had seen him. Todd, a hospital security guard remembered me from one of the last times we'd been at the hospital and he struck up a conversation with me, asking me if there was anything he could do. McCoy emerged from the ER while we were chatting. He'd gone in to find out for himself what was happening with the lion. He called our "favorite guy," Jason, the dispatcher, and let him know what was going on, then waited for instructions. I told him they wanted to keep Laf for observation until about 5, so McCoy just told me to call him when Laf was discharged. Todd stayed with me, still concerned. I assured him that there was nothing he could do right now and he handed me his card for future use if I needed him. I thanked him and walked toward the front of the hospital proper, running into one of the maintenance men from our old office. He asked about the lion and expressed sadness that we'd had to close up over there. I went back to the ER a few minutes later and answered more questions and went over current meds. They'd finally located Dr. Thomas and he stopped in to see us. He is always good for keeping us overnight, but he knows we balk at that and he said we could go home at 5. So I made another call to Guardian Angel and they sent McCoy back for us. As we waited for discharge, the monitor started beeping. Laf was disconnected somewhere and we couldn't locate the source, so he decided to disconnect all the monitors himself. I went out to the desk to get someone. I really didn't want him disconnecting the IV himself, although I had no doubt that he could do it. McCoy was pulling up just as we wheeled the lion out the door. God, it was so good to be going home. It was almost 6:30 when we walked in the door here. Laf said he couldn't stomach the thought of food, although he was starving, so I decided to try a nap. He was in the office when I got up to take care of dishes and laundry. I made him a scrambled egg sandwich then, but he couldn't keep it down. It is after midnight now and I'm making egg salad for myself. Then it is to bed and then we start the process again first thing in the morning. Not a fun day at all.

Very brief on Wednesday, July 23, 2003 ~
The lion snores gently as the dinner it took 3 hours to cook is done. We were offline completely from yesterday around 2 until tonight because we had a storm hit us yesterday. We will not be here tomorrow at all because after his growth hormone shot, we go to the hospital for a CAT scan. oh yay...back when I can be.

7:50 a.m., Tuesday, July 22, 2003 ~
I reset the alarm 5 times this morning. My back has been giving me big problems and I spend the night tossing and turning. I'm waiting for coffee. It's quiet, but won't be for long. After yesterday's problems with the van showing up early and picking us off late at the doctor's office, I have no idea what to expect.

I fixed a simple dinner late last night - just burgers, baked potato, green beans and pears. The lion threw up the small amount he ate. He did manage the pears. I would have been happy climbing into bed immediately after supper, but he had a craving for Oreos and, although we looked high and low, we couldn't find the bag. It may sound funny, but it isn't - not at all. There were many times during his life when his memory was the thing that kept him alive, so it bothers him greatly now if he can't remember something. It's 8 a.m. and time to get his meds and coffee. The van shouldn't be here until 9:30, but yesterday it arrived at 9, so I'd better get moving.

9:10...Grabbing coffee and a donut while I watch for the van. It's thundering and so much cooler outside. The first thing I'm doing when we return is turning the a/c off.

8 p.m. Monday, July 21, 2003 ~
Almost a week since I've been here. There are a million things I'd like to say right now, but I just can't find the energy. Because Medicaid won't pay for Neulasta, we've had to get up early and go 25 miles every single day for a shot of leukine. I've really had to drag myself out of bed in the morning and have not been able to get up early enough to give myself any quiet time. Laf hasn't been feeling well at all and therefore, they have been giving him IV fluids and anti-nausea medicine at the same time he gets his shot. The Guardian Angel Medicaid van dropped us off at 9:45 this morning, even though our appointment wasn't until 10:30. When I was able to find out from the nurse how long the IV fluid bag was going to take, I asked her to call the van people and tell them so they'd be there when we were done. At 12:30, we walked out and they weren't there, so I went back inside and asked the receptionist to call them again. They put her on hold forever and I gelt guilty for taking her away from what she'd been doing. When she was finally able to talk to someone, they told her it would be another 45 minutes. I was irritated because I'd done all I could do to make sure they'd be there on time. It was an hour before they arrived. Laf had spent the time reading, but I was agitated and walked for a bit while we waited. We were happy to see that the driver was Kim, our favorite. She laughed when we shared our observations about Rich's driving skills with her. Besides driving off the road once, he entertained us with rap radio and he's lucky we didn't "rap" him on the head and dump him on the side of the road. Kim had to stop and pick up a lady who goes twice a week for dialysis. We had to wait quite awhile for her while they clamped her up to keep her from bleeding out. Laf asked Kim if she'd get in trouble if we made a little side trip to Krispy Kreme. There are big signs in the vans..."No smoking, eating or drinking." But, whatthehey!!?! We bought 2 boxes of the treats and gorged ourselves...well, the 3 girls did. Laf tossed up the few bites he'd managed to take of his jam-filled donut. It was almost 3 o'clock when we got home. 6 hours for a lousy shot.

Hope called us yesterday. There was a little matter of an electrical problem on the plane during one leg of the trip. She enjoyed her visit to the White House, but decided it would be in her best interest not to convey any of the Lion's messages to President Bush. The wedding she attended was beautiful, of course, even though they wouldn't allow the ring bearer carry the rings up to the altar. The Catholic Church has this thing about dogs, even if they are properly dressed. (The bride and groom are both vets).

Bunny and hubby are heading this way again in a few weeks and Nola and Ted are getting ready for their vacation, which will take them to my hometown.

Janna Banana is expecting and Evie will have a new brother or sister in March. Gret left a 3 a.m. hi yesterday and my wacko son sent me this url. Don't complain to me if the site offends you.

I did manage to bring a grin to the lion's face when I returned after one of my disgruntled outings with a kudzu wreath on my head.

We had a sunshower around 6 tonight. I immediately went out to see if there was a rainbow, but the line of trees toward the east obscured my view. I had better luck watching fireflies as I sat on the front porch after dark. There is a new bird's nest in one of the flower pots, but I don't like to get too close, so I don't know if there are eggs in there. I snipped off some kind of vine outside the doctor's office and brought those cuttings home with the kudzu. I stuck them in water for now. I may have killed the kudzu. I want to see if what the lion says is true - that the way to plant kudzu is to throw it on the ground and run like hell.

Rosie's post at forum was so sweet. We've missed her being there, but then we can't always be there anymore either. Laf felt well enough to hit the office computer for a short time today and read her post and his response to me. We have good friends there and I know those who post care for me, as I do for them, but the lion is the draw and the glue, I think. He's crazy and funny. I am quiet and serious.

Tuesday, July 8, 2003 ~
I forced myself to get out of bed this morning. I still hit doze a couple of times, but at least I didn't sleep until 11. The hospice nurse and the chaplain, who is Korean, will be here sometime this afternoon. I suppose I will have to throw away the pots of beans. I would have preferred to eat nothing but red beans and rice until they were gone. It doesn't bother me at all to have the same thing 4 nights in a row if it saves me money and time. I used to do the same thing with lasagna. I'd make a huge pan and I'd eat it every night until it was gone. I could feed a family of 8 for a week on the leftovers I throw away now and that is just a sin.

I got up early for a reason and I don't have time to sit and do my usual morning piddling here. Yesterday, I "piddled" most of the day working on my family timeline, which is a text version of the scrapbooks I've always kept. I miss working on those. The kids would pull them out at parties and family gatherings and laugh over both good times and hard times. I didn't leave the hard times out and I think that's what made them interesting. The twins and their families are in New Hampshire for the week. Nate is probably splitting time between bartending and gigs until his "real" job begins, and as, usual, I have no clue what is going on with Kate.

Sunday, July 6, 2003 ~
testing...I think I'm back.

Oh yeah! I've missed my daily dose of Trace and "This Ain't No Thinking Thing." I'm not sick of it yet, but if you are, the Crescendo player is located at the top left of this page and you are more than welcome to turn the music off. Have a lion to rouse (arouse?).

Hope, what a nice way to start our day! Thanks for calling, hon, and congrats on the upcoming wedding of your friend. Have a safe trip and enjoy yourself! And disregard Laf's request to carry a message to the White House. You'd end up on a farm someplace, never to be seen or heard from again. Can I make a suggestion, though? Could you get someone else to do your make up before you head to Baltimore?
smirk~

Monday, July 1, 2003 ~
I am not having fun here. I've had Tripod problems since Thursday and "Bryan" from customer support sends me some dumb automated response geared toward Tripod newbies. He has done nothing other than waste my time. I am in here using housekeeper rather than my beloved file manager and it is a pain in my toucas. Of course it is not quite as big a pain as having "Butterfly" (Kamama, which is also the word for elephant, I believe) show up at forum with a post in tsalagi. I have no use whatsoever for anyone who has so little class and would be perfectly happy to see her crawl back into the slimepit where she belongs. tayi u'ne'go'tsoduh kamama

Saturday morning, June 28, 2003 ~
I started moving this site the other day. It will take awhile, especially considering how slow the ftp has been running. Yesterday, I was unable to access Tripod filemanager and came in through housekeeper, which I detest, so I wasn't here for long.

The lion managed to fix problems with the Real Player file yesterday, so go take a listen to Janna's Song

Thursday, June 26, 2003 ~
The National Do Not Call List will be taking registration starting tomorrow. Click here to check on how your state will handle registration.
The list will be made available to telemarketers in September, when they will be required to scrub their lists. Send a strong message to telemarketers and sign up asap!

* Just a note. It took me several hours to register yesterday and I was not thrilled to see the attempt to place cookies on my computer by the government website. I really hope those of you who read here prompt for third-party cookies. It wouldn't make too much sense for me to care so much about my privacy that I would waste 3 hours out of a day to get rid of telemarketers, only to allow the feds to put cookies on my puter so they can follow me around. It would be interesting, wouldn't it, if this whole project was a sneaky way for the federal government to get what it really wants from us, wouldn't it? I deleted cookies the other day and while doing so, checked the expiration dates. Amazon.com has one that expires in 2069. Most of the major sites use 2037. This is NOT acceptable and is an infringement on my right to privacy. Not only will I not be alive in 2069, I can assure you that my hard drive has another 5 good years on it...tops.

Saturday, June 21, 2003 ~Happy 25th Birthday, Nate!

I gave my son a call to wish him Happy Birthday. He strummed good blues while we chatted. He played his CD for me, including a lovely little tune he and a friend did using a real phone message left by a girl they were both seeing and who was shown the door quickly when the guys found out she was playing them. Nate starts soon at Semtek. In the meantime, he can be heard playing at Davidson Bros. in Glens Falls, as well as at The Bullpen Tavern - both great places to visit if you're in the area.

OK, Sage is really out of whack. I was so positive that yesterday was Saturday. It is now afternoon on the real Saturday and I've been thinking it was Sunday since I woke up. This is what hospitals do to you, I guess.

Herb called Thursday to check on the lion and bidcaller did the same yesterday. Both calls were good medicine. The lion told bid how nice it feels to know that people care about the man behind the "Loony Laf."

11 p.m. Wednesday night, June 18, 2003 ~ As I figured, the lion was readmitted to the hospital. I feel like I'm losing track of time. I can't remember what day it is anymore. I had all these things I was going to do, but I fed Ayo and let him pet me and I'm not sure I have the energy to do much of anything tonight at all. I sat in the parking lot at the hospital today and wrote my son a letter to put in his birthday card. He is 25 years old on Saturday. Doesn't seem possible. I may look around for some real food. I've been eating Laf's hospital fare, although I did treat myself to some chicken and red beans and rice from Popeye's last night. I helped the nurse get a new IV in before I left the hospital. The lion has few good veins left. He wasn't feeling much pain when I did leave, however, as they gave him phenergan to help with the nausea and he was out like a light. He did manage to get down some Popeye's onion rings and a biscuit before he crashed. We had a little "discussion" about trying to find the reason for the constant nausea asap because if he can't get real food down and keep it down, he will end up eating through a tube. His little nurse, who is terrific, suggested that maybe he should be xrayed to see if there is some obstruction that is preventing him from eating. I'd had that in the back of my mind, but it makes me nervous because I'm afraid they are going to find something else we don't want to know. Knowing her, she will do her job and suggest it to the doctor when he makes his rounds in the morning.

Tuesday, June 17, 2003 ~Preparing for our follow-up appt. with Doc Chemo this afternoon. This time I'm packing bags for us just in case the lion is admitted. Father's Day plans for breakfast out and a movie had to be cancelled. Laf was in no shape to go anywhere and Monday was 100X worse. He's had hiccups for 3 days and has thrown up anything he's tried to eat. I did manage to get some soup and biscuits into him last night. A simple dose of Pepto seemed to help keep him from throwing up long enough to get some food in his stomach. Neither of us want to be in the hospital, but if the doctor thinks he's doing badly, he'll have Laf admitted. We did make it out to take care of some errands yesterday. We rented another storage unit, picked up part of a new prescription, and I stopped for a few things at the grocery store. But I had to run for the wheelchair just to get the poor guy from the truck to the house when we returned. The lion slept for a bit in his chair, then tried to go back to sleep in the bed and couldn't, so he came back out to his chair and I fixed a few things for him to try to eat. I talked to Gret for a short while. She was a bit wired as she is giving up smoking while trying to make wedding plans and dealing with the idea that Gabe's hearing loss may be permanent. I fixed myself a couple of hot dogs, which put me in a food coma and although I swore I was only going to sit in my recliner for a few minutes, I woke up there at 7 this morning. I went to bed and dozed on and off through the alarm and the phone calls and it was after 10 when I finally got up. The lion actually looked better when he woke up, but that changed within minutes, so I just don't know if we'll be coming back home tonight.

1:40 a.m., Monday June 16, 2003 ~
Sittin' outside for a few. No human voices. Only dogs answering each other. The moon almost full. Missing ownership, I think, especially looking at the ravages of the lawn mowing job done by the partiers across the street. I want to open the windows. I need to FEEL and to HEAR outside, but I don't dare disturb the lion with the humidity. He doesn't understand that I lived to feel summer when I was in upstate NY. We were shut-ins for so many months out of the year. I get so claustrophobic with the house closed up and it makes me feel disconnected from the real world.

Congrats, Nola, on getting your license. Was that a stipulation for buying the red jeep or was the jeep incentive? :) I've been having driving nightmares lately...there's always a damned cop on my tail.

Hey, lion...Friday the thirteenth was a wonderful day in comparison to today. I don't think I'd worry about that one again.

I'll try to write again sometime today. At least we don't have any dr. or hospital appts. We did, however, have a lousy week at ARMC. 3 days of chemo plus 2 days of wasted time there...one extra day because a dr. was running late and another because AGAIN a ditwad nurse put betadine on Laf, which sent him to the ER. More on this later. I'm beat and the lion is dead to the world with all the meds we found it necessary for him to take tonight. The poor guy hasn't been able to keep any food down at all. So much for my hope that a certain son would call his father today.

Tuesday, June 10, 2003 ~
Has anyone sent a copy of this to Bob McNamara & Co.? The article was written by James M. Ennes Jr., who retired from the Navy in 1978 as a lieutenant commander after 27 years of enlisted and commissioned service. He was a lieutenant on the bridge of the USS Liberty on the day of the attack. Ennes discovered a document in the Liberty file at the LBJ Library which refers to a meeting of the White House "303 Committee" a few months before the Six-Day War. "Operation Cyanide" is mentioned in this document. It involved a U.S.-Israeli covert operation that would have stationed a submarine in Egyptian waters. The BBC interviewed Rafi Eitan, who was with the Israeli Secret Service. He said, "I know what I am able to tell you and where I have to stop. And here I stop." Former CIA Director Helms was asked the same question by those same interviewers. He made admissions in regard to the covert function of the 303 Committee, but said, "You'll have to ask McNamara about Operation Cyanide." McNamara was secretary of defense in 1967. When interviewed, McNamara said, "I won't say a word about the Liberty." Would that be because the story would suggest that the U.S. is guilty of a deliberate action against its own soldiers to destroy and cover up certain intel? The Liberty website has more than 1500 visitors every day. The real story will eventually surface and it won't be pretty. You can write to Ennes at Jim@Ennes.com

Jim & Joe ask the question, "Why would Israel bite the American hand?" Israel didn't bite the American hand, they shook it. There was only one shot taken at the Liberty that mattered. The mission was accomplished. The rest of the "attack" was for show.

Donald Regan, chief of staff from February 1985 to February 1987, Harvard graduate, and a former Lt. Colonel in the U.S.M.C., died today at the age of 84.

FOUNDING CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY OF WASHINGTON, D. C., INC. v Donald T. REGAN, Secretary of the Treasury, et al.

"I don't give a damn about the right-to-lifers." -- Nancy Reagan, quoted by Donald Regan, in his book For the Record.

"Hell hath no fury like a chief-of-staff scorned." -- Bernard Kalb, on CNN's Crossfire, May 9, 1988

Monday, June 9, 2003 ~ It's been longer than I thought since I last wrote here. Last week, we went to the chemo clinic in Athens to take care of paperwork. There is always more paperwork! By the time we got out of there, we were late for the follow-up appt. at the radiology clinic, but we managed to catch the good Dr. Terry before he left. Then there were more blood tests at the lab. The following day, we had a follow-up with his regular doctor here. Laf starts chemo again tomorrow as long as his potassium level is high enough. They called us when they got the results of the last tests, said it was low and said to double up on the potassium meds. He is still eating very little. The Dr. in Athens gave us samples of Prosure, which the lion said was disgusting. The Yoohoo got dumped and I haven't been able to talk him into the Boost or Carnation Instant Breakfast yet. The boiled egg did not go over well and I picked up the correct brand of cheese & peanut butter crackers today. He did manage a bag of popcorn and 1 slice of toast.

Would someone please tell me how it is that 2 people generate the same amount of trash that a family of 6 had per week? And twice the number of dirty dishes?

I started to do email today, including my daughter's. Her bulk mail folder had 900 spam emails. 900!!!! Needless to say, I haven't finished mine yet.

As I told Laf's cousin Elizabeth today, I have buried myself in research for the past few days - so much so that even a computer-addicted lion was disgruntled about the amount of time I was at the computer. I wasn't ignoring you, hon. I was just trying to not think about problems for a bit.

And what do I research? Anything to do with covert government action, its ties to the Mafia, to the Vatican, to the Illuminati, etc.

The question I want answered now is, as the U.S. not only knows that Iraq had WMDs, they also know where they are, what is the purpose of allowing the world to think that they made a mistake? Because there IS a purpose. Perhaps WMDs are not exactly what the U.S. is looking for?

Who ultimately decides what is noble purpose?

Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

Unfortunately, there are too many who do.

Saturday, May 31, 2003 ~For some reason, I've lost something I wrote early yesterday morning. Laf asked me to call my daughter, Janna, so he could play the music he wrote to go with her lyrics for her. She was still at the gym, so I spoke with her husband, Chris, while I waited for her. Chris is a thoughtful and responsible young man. He plans carefully for the future and that will be of great benefit to his family one day. He can be a nut, too, and his nephew affectionately calls him, "Mr. Poopy-head" for good reason. Laf played his music for Janna when she arrived home and she loved it. She said it had exactly the feeling she had when she wrote it. "Janna's Song" is almost ready and will be up soon.

Today has not gone the way I planned it at all, but when do they ever? It is 3:30 and I am still in my nightgown. The lion is sleeping still. I'd written a note on my grandson, Connor's, birthday card and wanted to send it before 3 because I'm afraid it won't get to him in time. As it is, I asked Janna to help me with his present from her end and I haven't heard from her yet. But I was not able to get to the P.O., my fault because I don't have a license. Mario came and gave us 2 bags of food from Angelfood Ministeries. He has been so good to us. I didn't have the heart to tell him I would have to throw out food he'd given us before. The freezer is crammed with food, but the lion hasn't been able to eat, so it sits there. The refrigerator itself is full of leftovers. I fix something for Laf and he can only eat part. Or I'll open a can of fruit or soup or whatever and give him a little, then throw the rest in the fridge. But so little tastes good to him. He'll have a sudden whim for something and I'll buy it and it will just sit until it goes bad and has to be thrown away. Lately, his biggest meal has been a bag of popcorn.

Congratulations, Nola, on getting your permit. (Sage glares at the mess around her and scratches her head). I don't have a clue where my manual is. Time to shower, get dressed, and pretend the day isn't already half-over.

Hey, lion, I'll bet you didn't even realize that when you apologized for being cranky the night before last, it was the first time you've said, "I'm sorry," instead of "I'm sorry, but..."

I dreamed I was in a city I've been in before only in my dreams, but last night all the street signs were written in some Oriental or Mideastern language. Some girl told me she had a place I could rent and sent me to look at it. It was in a horrible section of the city. There was trash laying around everywhere I looked. I went inside and there was one big room and a little kitchen off to the right. Then I woke up.

It is Saturday, May 31, 2003. As I helped Laf into the bed a few minutes ago and rubbed him down with cool washcloths, I realized I would have to accept what I have become ~ his caregiver. It is not something either of us want to accept, for there was no room for illness in our dreams and plans for the future.

We met online in 1997 in Washington Watch, a Yahoo! political chatroom. We split our free time between WW and another friend's political forum until Laf started his own forum. He kept bugging me to come and read and post, but as the mother of 4 and, at the time, grandmother and primary caregiver for one grandchild, my free time was at a premium. But I did go to his website and read all the wonderful things he had written ~ poems, essays, newspaper columns, short stories. Eventually, I did wander into his forum and I had a ball. He was crazy, funny and lecherous as all get-out and he had an intelligent and witty group of friends who posted there. It is easy to make online personalities part of your life and to get caught up in the relationships formed there. And I did. Laf and his forum became part of my everyday life.

I decided in the fall of 1999 that I was going to learn how to create my own website and I started it off with a bang ~ a Year 2000 New Year's Eve Bash that grabbed thousands of viewers from all over the world. Then the rest of my website evolved (and keeps evolving). I haven't had much time to work on it in the past year, as I've had to devote my time to caregiving, but one of the first things I did was to create an online journal, which began in the spring of 2000. This is the 4th journal.

I guess these journals have been the story of the great love I developed for this man, whose real life I now share.

In November of 2001, I left everything I had and everyone I loved in upstate NY to move to Georgia. My four children were all grown up and on their own. I'd found myself desperate for space that I could not have in NY. I needed time for me. I wanted to explore and find a way to use the strengths and talents I had to do something with the rest of my life. My dad had died and left me enough money to give me a few years to discover what it was I wanted to do. I moved in next door to the Lion. I was filled with energy and a renewed sense of purpose. Unfortunately, it didn't last. Laf had already been diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure and I knew when I came that we might only have a short time together. But, of course, we didn't want to believe that. When I walked in to his side of the duplex and found him not breathing or collapsed in a heap on the floor, I decided to move in with him. A few weeks ago, Laf was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. The doctors have given him only 6 to 9 months to live. We are both trying to continue to spend time on the various things we love to do, including working on our individual websites. It is becoming more and more difficult as Laf becomes sicker and my role changes to include caregiving. Laf has thought about keeping his own journal and I hope to encourage him to try it. He can no longer sit at the keyboard for hours, as he used to do. He feels lousy most of the time these days.

I will continue to write here as I can, but I have to admit that there are days when I am simply too tired. I do not give up easily, but the hopes and dreams I had for myself have disappeared. I have done all I can do to help the Lion fight his depression and at the end of the day, I am simply too burned out to be able to think rationally about myself. I am going to attempt to be as honest as I can about our days. I do get angry and frustrated sometimes and so does he, but there is this wondrous thing called love that keeps us going. I don't like writing about the down times, but perhaps if I do, it will help other caregivers.

I have written this so it will appear at the top of the page, however, the newest entries here will always be found at the bottom of this page and not at the top, as in the newer variety of blogs. This is the way I've always done it.

~ Sage

The music you are listening to is "The Dance" as arranged by J. James. who was taken from me on Saturday, January 3, 2004.

Thursday, May 29, 2003 ~
I see Baghdad Blogger Salaam Pax is back. You may recall that after I posted the link to his blog, Where is Raed?, it was picked up and followed by all the major Internet news sites, but Pax suddenly disappeared on March 24. He kept his journal offline and sent it to a friend in NY as a text file. She published it for him Tuesday. Welcome back, Salaam. Sina Motallebi was not so lucky. On April 19th, Sina was arrested in Tehran. He was charged with blogging. Wired reports that he "was released from jail May 14 after posting a 300 million rial ($36,675) bail." The thought police are alive and well in Iran. But, I have similar problems here in the "Land of the Free," where jailtime would be a picnic in comparison.

I cannot describe the pride I felt as Laf, dressed in a pieced-back-together camo blouse and a newer cover hiding a scalp now showing the ravages of chemotherapy, stood tall and proud for the first time since his return from Nam to be recognized for his service to our country. For our country and in spite of our government. Welcome home, Marine.

I was awakened by a knock at the door and opened it to discover a package from Laf's cousin, Elizabeth. Beautiful blue sheets for the hospital bed, bubble bath, and silk sleeping shorts with a patriotic theme which brought laughter from the Lafster. We had 2 surprises when we returned home last night. A friend and former client who is returning to his native country left a sentimental card stuck in the door for Laf and he found in his email a song written especially for him from my daughter, Janna. She asked if he could write the music for it and of course, he started to do so right away. He was delighted and I was thrilled and so proud of her for creating something so special for him.

But, the lion could not sleep last night and we spent the wee hours talking about his funeral and cremation and who to give what to and he gave me gifts intended for every holiday. Trinkets I will treasure for the rest of my life because they are gifts from his heart.

If you are interested in reading the blogs of Iranians at Persian Blog, you will have to learn how to speak Farsi. Free lessons are offered are offered at Persian Online.

Wednesday, May 28, 2003 ~
It's been a long day and it's very late. We were up early for another trip to the Medical College in Augusta. This time for blood work, consultation, and prescriptions. The lion slept in his chair all night and I hunted with no luck for the remote when I realized the 700 Club was on. However, it got me to thinking and I found this. There are some interesting thoughts on this page and I hope you'll take the time to read and think about how blame is little more than an excuse we use to justify our own behavior.

Saturday, May 24, 2003 ~
We can't afford the break we're taking, but sometimes, even in the midst of tragedy, one needs to get away from it. Nola's first "surgery" went just fine, she tells me. Yuk! Have you tried gargling, hon? I'm teasing. Laf is working on new music and I cleared my hotmail account. Juan will come tomorrow to help us in the storage unit and we will celebrate Memorial Day at Stone Mountain either tomorrow or Monday, depending on the weather. I finally added The Final Roll Call to my menu after it was sent to me by Laf, Honey and Nola. (see above) The Lion asked if I thought anyone would be interested in the blog of a dying man. I think it would be a good project for many reasons and we will let you know if it comes to fruition. I'm famished and the potato salad is calling my name from the fridge. I think I'll munch while I work. Laf made me my own bowl with a ton of green olives mixed in because he knows I love it that way.

Thinking about my kids and wondering what they are doing this weekend. The weather looks lousy in upstate NY. Connor's 10th birthday is next week. I'd hoped to be there for it. I miss him. I miss all of them. I feel like a stranger to my own family now. It has been so long.

Thursday, May 22, 2003 ~
Nola, I will be thinking of you as you undergo surgery tomorrow. Good luck, hon. Please let us know how it goes.

Tuesday, May 20, 2003 ~
Don't leave me, my lion. Please don't leave me.

It's been a very rough day for us. Who in their right mind would make an 8:30 a.m. appointment for a heart patient with end stage lung cancer who has to take sleeping medications just so they could evaluate the effects of his sleeping medications? It is doubtful that they even got a clue when the lion appeared headed off the chair for the floor and instead of finding someplace for him to lay down, they asked me to leave him to go to some other room to make a phone call to their financial department. Wanna see a groggy and cranky lion roar? The little girl behind the evaluator's desk didn't even question his meds, not did her supervisor who joined us. They did promise to check all local resources, including hospice, which may be needed sooner rather than later. I called his primary care physician who wants to see him immediately as it is apparent the lion has an infection, possibly caused by IV abuse. He is neutropenic and cannot afford to get any kind of infection at all. When I finally did make the call to their financial department this afternoon, the lady didn't ask me one single question that hadn't already been asked this morning. Perhaps the clinical psychologist at Walton County could entertain us by giving his receptionist an IQ test. You can be sure that I will fill out a "customer" satisfaction/comment sheet. They are not equipped at all to handle anyone there who is really sick. There isn't a cot, couch or bed to be found on the premises and not one individual came out to help when it looked like Laf might pass out. It took me an hour to find a phone number that was valid to call the phone company to disconnect DSL and phone service at the office. I should have a fun time tomorrow morning trying to figure out who to call at MCG to have the lion's records faxed to his managing physician. He asked me to do that immediately...to get records from MCG and from Athens Regional so he can update himself and figure out where to go from here. If "Dr." Mark Matowsky (or however the hell you spell his name) were in front of me right now, I would shake the sh** out of the man. His ineptitude is the reason Laf is in the shape he is in, with no hope whatsoever and he does not deserve to be a member of the medical profession.

Laf chose "Forever in Love" from his library, turned the speakers up loud, and came to sit in his chair and I collapsed in his lap and sobbed and he cried too. I want to reach into his chest and grab what is killing him out. I stroke his hair and strands fall out through my fingertips. He got mad yesterday and shaved off his moustache because that was disappearing too. He said he hates the way he looks without it and I told him it was just a mask that men like to hide behind like false eyelashes. He said, "How did you find out about those?" He's still the Lafster, after all. I have a feeling the doctor is going to put him back in the hospital for more IV fluids and anti-biotic. I don't want him in the hospital again, but we may have no choice. I love you, lion.

Sunday Morning, May 18, 2003~
Gray and rainy morning. The breeze at the back window would have felt wonderful had I been dressed, but it was too cool for just out of bed, so I closed it. Wind chimes clang outside like distant church bells and I hear the lion over the intercom, restless in his hospital bed. I'd had it in my head yesterday to try to take care of bags and suitcases and start cleaning up around here. Not only because it needs it, but also because Leda and her roommate will be here at 3 today. The lion had asked if I would rub his feet and I said I would as soon as I dried my hair. I waited and piddled, thinking he would come sit after my hair was done, but he wrote at forum and never came out. So there was no foot rub and I never got up and moving. So this morning's quiet time will be short because there is just too much work to catch up on today. I need my vacuum cleaner repaired. It is driving me nuts not to have it available, even though the daily window of opportunity to use it is brief. I see Tammey come online. She is planning her Fall wedding. Chris is in a state of despair over her LD relationship. Nola has her own upcoming surgeries to worry about, yet she keeps in touch. Draggie, just finding out about Laf, called us sobbing and feeling helpless. Bunny sent us cards of support snail mail. Herb stays in touch on ICQ and by phone. The lion's brother and sister-in-law call every few nights to see how things how are going. I sent him a simple url about kevlar and he seems to recognize truth he was unsure of before. Kate finally got her driver's license ~ a good thing as she's been driving without one. Nate leaves Rochester for good this week to move in with his dad. Gret and Rob are considering eloping and Janna lets me see Evie on cam and tells me she recognizes Babboo. Something seems to have changed in Hope's life in the past few months and I'm itching to know how. *grin* Deb is probably mad at Laf. Astric is no longer speaking to either of us and although I once cared, I don't anymore. Di wrote a beautiful email to the lion, which he shared with me and a certain cousin shoots off duplicate emails to us because she doesn't understand how to communicate with us separately. And Ryan seems to be having problems signing on to his messengers this morning, which is slowing my puter down horrendously. I think I need to reboot. Herb asked me the other day if I was a real nurse and I didn't know whether to scream or laugh. I told him that of all of a mother's jobs I could list, I'd always told everyone, I would never make a good nurse because I don't have the patience for it. That's probably why I rarely get sick. Even when I do, I tell it to go away and I ignore it until it does. Besides, I suck at asking people to do things for me, so it just wouldn't work out. I gave the lion his meds, a back massage and put a warm compress on his arm, which is swollen and sore from all the IVs. Now it's time for me to get up and move.

And even as I finish writing here, everything again changes. The lion is feeling poorly and all business matters have been put off for another day.

I feel like the closet door has been opened and all the junk has fallen on top of me. It didn't have to be this way.

This is what I am reading about these days.

Severe earthquakes in France
March 18, 2003. Today it was reported that severe earthquakes have occurred in 10 different locations in France. The severity was measured in excess of 10 on the Richter Scale. The cause was the 56,681 dead American soldiers buried in French soil rolling over in their graves. According to the American Battle Monuments Commission there are 26,255 Yankee dead from World War I buried in 4 cemeteries in France. There are 30,426 American dead from World War II buried in 6 cemeteries in France. These 56,681 brave American heroes died in their youth to liberate a country which is guilty of shameful unspeakable behavior in the 21st century. May the United States of America never forget their sacrifice as we find ways to forcefully deal with the Godforsaken unappreciative, forgetful country of France!

"If you don't know where you're going, you just might end up Someplace Else."
~ Yogi Berra

10 p.m., Wednesday, May 14, 2003 ~
It seems so odd to be here without my lion. Tuesday's trip to Athens radiology/oncology which should have seen us on our way back home in 15 to 20 minutes, turned out much differently than we expected. My inability to drive has now turned into a real handicap. He was not feeling well at all on the way to Athens and he sat in the driver's seat while I steered the truck until we got into city traffic. The radiation treatment itself is so short that I barely had time to find 1 or 2 pieces in the jigsaw puzzle they have in the waiting room. However, I had asked the dr. if we could speak to him after the treatment about the lion's meds and I was called back to wait in another room with the lion until the doctor was free to talk to us. Things turned dangerous for Laf very quickly. His blood pressure bottomed out and they rushed us by ambulance to ER, where they decided to admit him. He was given fluids with glucose and antibiotic and blood tests were done that showed his white blood cell count to be at 1. He has finally come around today and has been able to eat some food and downed so much apple juice that he cried "enough of that." A client and friend brought me home tonight and will take me back tomorrow. Although, last night, after I heard, "I want the truck in the front parking lot where there are bright lights" one too many times, I marched out of the hospital and down 3 streets to where the truck was parked. I took a VERY deep breath and backed the truck out and drove to the front of the hospital and parked. I had a very big grin on my face when I went back to the room and informed the anxious lion that the truck had been moved to where he wanted it. I was almost courageous enough to drive the damned thing home to pack a couple of bags for us, but I just could not handle the idea of driving in city traffic. If there had been any way to avoid it and do back roads, I think I could have handled it. It may sound dumb, but I haven't driven in 24 years. I have until about noon tomorrow to take care of a hundred things and then I will return to the hospital. I have absolutely no idea when they will let him out. He has 2 more radiation treatments...one on Thursday and one on Friday and they may elect to keep him until Saturday morning, although if he is still doing as well tomorrow as he was today, we may beg out after radiation tomorrow. We'll just have to wait and see. It might involve me pretending to drive long enough to get the truck to the door and pulling off down the street and around the corner out of sight so we can switch places. I walked over to the office last night on a whim, but thinking about pulling up stakes there just depressed me and I didn't stay. I tried to call him to let him know I was home, but they won't let you call the room after 9:30, so I'll wait to see if he calls me. I left him in the hands of a darned good male nurse at least. Tonight is the first night I have been alone in almost 2 years. I hate thinking that it is something I will soon have to get used to.

Herb is right. Responsibilities and obligations must be taken care of immediately, because even tomorrow could be too late. Why didn't you ever listen to me, lion?

Tuesday, May 13, 2003 ~
I set the alarm for 8, but went back to hold a sleeping lion for a little while. He coughed on and off during the night ~ not badly, but enough to make me aware. Loneliness hit me hard before I went to bed last night and I put a CD in and fell asleep crying.

We are closing the Athens office. That dream has died with this illness and I open the closet door to look sadly upon all the business attire I purchased which will never be worn. We will go there today to meet a client who forgot to sign a check, and after radiation treatments at the clinic across the street, we will pack up more equipment and load up the truck. I am back to making myself instant coffee in the morning. I haven't done that in 2 years. The lion adores his brew, but he can no longer drink it. The two meals I tried to fix him last night were thrown up or finished by me and I ended up heating some chicken broth, which he sipped once every few minutes. But he was only able to get 4 teaspoons of that in him and I put that away too.

I think I need to look for a local support group. You never want to admit that you need help, but I am so tired and depressed and I need to talk to somebody. I will need physical help, too. I really don't know what the future holds for me anymore. Our dreams are gone and there are no miracles. Not this time. Silly lion, Trix are for kids.

We received notice from MCG yesterday of our next appt. there set for 10 a.m., May 28th. I don't have a clue where we can stay this time as the lion gets 3 days of out-patient chemo. The last trip cost me $550 and that was with the corporate rate at the Holiday Inn Express. With gas and food, there went another $100 to $200. They also sent prescription directions with a note that it was "paperwork left behind." How about "paperwork they neglected to give us?" As it was, when he was discharged, they forgot to give us the prescriptions and had to run to catch us leaving the parking garage. Then the doctor who wrote the prescriptions forgot to put his/her number on one of them and we were forced to return to the 5th floor on the other side of the hospital 1/2 mile away to get the script rewritten before returning to the pharmacy for another wait. My call to MCG about his prescriptions was not returned and even though they did send us this paperwork, he was NOT given a prescription for Lopressure, which is on their list. Instead, he was given a script for meds for high blood pressure, which he doesn't have. And Matousky should not be practicing medicine. If he'd been doing his job, this would have been caught a long time ago, perhaps before it even started.

I was wrong. The medicine they gave him was the same as Lopressor (sp?), but his primary care physician decided he shouldn't have it.

Sunday, May 11, 2003 ~
It was one of those Sundays that, if things were different, might have been perfect. The sound of a gentle rain outside our windows took me to the office to open that window so the lion could hear it. Calls from 3 out of 4 kids reminding me of my mother's ring when it had 3 stones instead of 4. I love you, Katie, even though you refuse to call or write. A call from the lion's brother - loving, but blunt. Yes, I will give you gran'daddy's guns. Another call from my ex - thoughtful and gentle, with wishes for Mother's Day and no chastising or bitterness. A call to my brother because it is his birthday, but he isn't home, so I leave a message. Cooking another meal for Laf that only gets thrown up, then dumped, as they all do now. His fingers making circles on my arm and my eyes sting with salt from dried tears.

Saturday, May 10, 2003 ~
I managed to fix the registry problem Quick Time caused yesterday, but it was w/o the Crescendo QTBgone patch. Daughter Janna messaged me and turned her cam on so I could watch Evie crawl around and play. There was a quick note to Laf's Cousin Elizabeth to let her know I rec'd her email and would respond later. I never did get to that as I spent most of the day involved in the care and feeding of a certain lion. I use the term "feeding" loosely, as he hasn't been able to keep food down. For the most part, it makes feeding myself easier. I just eat what he can't finish, although I passed on the Sicilian Goulash with stewed tomatoes, okra, corn and peas. The bedroom had to be rearranged to accomodate the hospital bed and there were regular chores like dishes and laundry to be done, as well as trying to take care of the tons of things we brought back from our stay at the Medical College. I had a very difficult letter to write to the lion's son. It is not easy to insert oneself into a family situation where there is so much old anger and tension and because I have no choice, I am trying very hard to do it gently. On the other side of the coin, there is astric, who whines and complains that she can't understand why no one loves her, then writes nasty letters to us making false accusations. When told that she is mistaken, she says "oh well...forgive me if I'm not concerned with your situation. I have problems in my own life and my therapist tells me I can give myself permission to say no, so please don't write to me anymore." It has always scared me to death that this lady teaches fourth graders. I do believe she was the one who wrote to us first. We simply replied. Nola and I chatted briefly about military doctors and hermaphrodites. lol I will have to tell Honey that even with the bars down, it would be nice if the hospital bed was at least 6 inches wider. I wanted to slap Ron for his comment that if he got lung cancer, he'd buy it with his gun. I finally turned the air conditioning on yesterday. I've kept it off to save money. That pile of gold has received little replenishing in the past 2 years. There's no more piddle time left, lion. There never was any piddle time available to begin with and Nereyda is right. I had my heart hanging out and did nothing to protect myself. I did try, but I waited for something that didn't happen. I'm waking you up now. Like I said to astric, 6 months is only 180 days.

Calls to SICU about a lost pair of cargo pants and to the 5th floor asking for info on new and old prescriptions. As I told one of the doctors, communication is the key and although the lion really did receive good care at the Medical College for the most part, sometimes there was much confusion caused by the fact that there are too many teams of doctors and nurses.

Friday, May 9, 2003 ~
It's just before noon and I am sitting in the same chair where I fell asleep last night. I haven't fallen asleep in front of the puter in eons. No, I did not sleep here all night. The lion woke me up and I made it to the bed and crashed out. He slept in his hospital bed. I remember looking for the remote to turn the TV off, but couldn't find it and it was too dark to see the controls on the TV, so the TV blared all night long, which I absolutely abhor. We went to the radiology oncology clinic in Athens yesterday and they did another CAT scan and set him up for more radiation starting Monday. I think that they are doing radiation and chemo to keep his throat from closing up while hoping for a miracle they really think won't happen. I will try to write more later. Right now, my brain is fried and I am thoroughly regretting going to Dan Roger's 3D page as QuickTime took over my MIDI file associations and I will probably have to reinstall Crescendo (again). I just don't feel capable of dealing with it now.

4:15 P.M., Friday, May 2, 2003 ~
I found a computer in the MCG library. Unfortunately, I think they close up here soon and the library is closed on weekends. It's been a very long week here in Augusta. We were in anesthesiology for 6 hours Monday. At one point, I woke myself up when I began to snore in the waiting room and I saw the lion doze off in his wheelchair a couple of times. The biopsy went as scheduled at 8 a.m. Tuesday and he was in the O.R. for 3 hours. It was close to suppertime by the time he was taken from recovery to Surgical ICU. The news is not good. He has small cell carcinoma. From SICU, he was taken to the radiology clinic, where he was given a massive dose of radiation. He's had 2 more doses since then - one per day. At 3 this morning, he was taken down for another CAT scan and this afternoon he started chemotherapy. We were thrilled on Wednesday to hear he would be given a room on the 5th floor and I moved everything from the motel room to the room, then lugged all the lion's belongings from SICU up to the 5th floor. We spent one night only there. Thursday morning, some ditwad ignored the signs posted both on the door to the room and above his bed that said, "NO IODINE. NO BETADINE. NO IV DYE." She rubbed betadine on his hand and he was on the floor. They had to call code on him and take him back to SICU, which meant we lost our 5th floor room. Thankfully, I had not yet checked out of the motel, because I had to drag everything back over there. So far, the idiot who used the betadine on the lion has cost me an additional $100. They are saying he'll get a room on the 6th floor tonight, but who knows? And do I dare leave my motel room and spend an hour and a half lugging belongings again? This has been a more or less informational post for those of you who read here. We are hopeful that after 3 days of chemo, he will be allowed to go home. The lion was going to write something for me to post at forum, but he's feeling lousy. As the library here is closed on weekends, we will not have access to a computer again until we are back home. If you have any pull with the big guy, say a prayer for the lion.

Still Sunday, April 27, 2003 ~
Packing up to leave for Augusta. Perhaps we'll manage a couple of hours of sleep before leaving. It would have been nice to go tonight, but even the corporate rate is expensive, and right now, we don't know how long we'll be there.

Sunday, April 27, 2003 ~
This article at Wired makes the case, IMO, for static IPs as the industry standard. I've long felt that anonymous use of the Internet is the source of most Net problems. If I own and operate a store on the street and you enter the store, I may not need to know your name or where you're heading when you leave my store, but I have a right to do everything in my power to identify you when you are on the premises. This is not a free speech issue. I have a right to protect what is mine and to be able to finger you as a suspect in the event something turns up missing or if my store is vandalized. Anonymous use of the Net is why we must deal with spam. Spammers do not have to be accountable if no one knows who they are. If I surf to your site, you have a right to know I am there. When I leave, you do not have a right to follow me (cookies). I used Human Click when it was free and would have continued to use them if they hadn't decided to charge exhorbitant prices for the use of their product. I've used Hitbox since they first made their appearance on the web, but when they decided to not report IPs, they became somewhat useless. Bravenet gives IPs, but you have to deal with constant pop-up ads.

Friday, April 25, 2003 ~
Have you ever noticed that people our age who wear clothing meant for the younger generation hoping it will take a few years off usually look 10 years older than they really are? Why does it work that way? Because the way one dresses says much about one's level of self-confidence. (I am NOT, however, going to apologize for my jeans -the most intelligent article of clothing ever invented). I will most likely be buried in them.

I'm sitting here looking at 88 pieces of spam in my hotmail account. Don't let MSN fool you. They have the technology to keep most of the spam out of your inbox. They're just going to make you pay for it, that's all. There was a dictionary attack against them and rather than own up to the fact that they weren't watching their backsides, they just send you these cute little 11k emails that say, "How did we do?" I report all spam (and believe me, it's ALL spam), through SpamCop. My advice to anyone thinking of using even a valid email campaign is simple. Don't! Not unless you are willing to actually DO something about spam. Spammers are nothing but lazy losers who want something for nothing and until there is definitive legislation that will halt spam in its tracks, there are very few email campaigns that will work. Don't send me UCE saying you got my email address from someone who swears I put it there, because I guarantee you I did not and why do you think it is your right to waste my time?

Thursday, April 24, 2003 ~
Actually, it's not Thursday anymore, but it was, I swear, when I dozed off in my chair. We got our hairs cut today and had lunch at Sonny's. Lunch was dinner, too, as that was the last thing we ate. I tried to talk the Lion into a bowl of ice cream a little earlier, but as he'd used a chunk of watermelon at Sonny's to get the taste of throwing up out of his mouth, he wasn't particularly interested in the ice cream offer. I was reading at bcentral about business marketing earlier and went to a site they were promoting for banner ads. It made me realize if I'd spend 12 more hours a day at my computer, I could do that too and I could do a lot better job, as those ads looked like were designed by an aging hippie. I never was into tie-dye. I've been tired and overly emotional lately and I'm not going to apologize for it. It's really tough watching someone you love being sick all the time. Hope, I'm going to thank you again here for the email you sent me about your friend who has both CHF and cancer. I'm glad they think they got all the cancer and I meant it when I said it helped to perk me up. Honey told me she thinks the Lion will never die and in a way, even though I understand what precipitated the comment, she's right. He's made a positive impression on too many people, many of whom have actually had their circumstances change because they listened to what he's had to say. No matter what happens, he will never be forgotten.

Wednesday, April 23, 2003 ~
It's been difficult to write lately. Too many jumbled thoughts and emotions crowd my days as I consider the very real possibility that my lion's days may be numbered. I am torn between not wanting to leave his side for even an instant and feeling claustrophobic in this box. The sun only shines on me through windows. I want to take his hand and walk through the woods and picnic in fields and watch minnows dart past our toes in the lake and stand upon a mountaintop with the world stretched out below us. Every idea I had, every plan I hoped to see come to fruition has not and probably will not. I cannot laugh at even JAG silliness. "Enough about me. Let's talk about you. Did you miss me?" And if Paris stopped to put on a tuxedo before jumping in the water, he might miss the boat. When too much introspection causes us to stop living our lives, then we hurt ourselves and those around us.

My purpose, my lion, is not to keep you alive, for that is something I may not have the power to do. I was sent to you for a reason, but you have yet to discover what it is. And if wanting to know the reason keeps you alive that much longer, then so be it, for I'm glad you got me.

What am I thinking about at any given moment? If M.A.S.H. didn't have a laugh track, would it still be funny? How long does a bout of shingles last? The ceiling is dusty and I need my vacuum repaired. The windows are dirty and the joy that gave me the energy to clean them last year is disappearing. If I died today, there would be no money for a casket. How much does a cremation and an urn cost? Do we close the office to save money and if so, where do we put the stuff that is in there? Why is it that the people who come here think I don't cook? I don't think my son and I will be able to live together in poverty if he has moved in with his father. I love hearing young men tell me that my littlest angel was the sweetest girl they ever dated. I am so very grateful that my twin daughters are best friends. I realize that my to-do list will never get any shorter, but it would be refreshing to cross something out, even if only to replace it with something new. I ran across this while looking for something else. Of course there is a sermon there on what women want too. Generally speaking the minister has it right, but not in all cases for all people. For instance, my daily word count is not 10,000 words. I've always believed that words need actions to give them meaning. That without action, they have no meaning. And he quotes this Toby Keith song "We talk about your work, how your boss is such a jerk. We talk about your church and your head when it hurts. We talk about the troubles you been havin’ with your brother – bout your daddy and your crazy ex-lover. We talk about your friends and the places that you been. We talk about your skin and the dimples on your chin. And the polish on your toes and the run in your hose. And God knows we’re gonna talk about your clothes. You know talking ‘bout you makes me smile. But every once in a while I wanna talk about me…" But I don't necessarily want to talk about me. I just want you to know without me sayin' because you care enough to pay attention. Makes sense to me. He is right about the need for different types of currency, but all women are not the same, nor are all men the same, so currency that works for one woman or man might not for another. For instance, I love flowers, but I would rather that they be hand-picked and that the money that would have been used to purchase them be put into a savings account, for one of my greatest fears is the future. A man, however, might consider the store-bought flowers a much greater gift because they are indicative of his success as a bread-winner.

If I have not done some of the things I would like to do in my life, I do at least know that I am leaving a legacy of sorts with my children. I taught them and I am proud of each one. I could have been angry and bitter about my life, but I would have passed that on to them and in doing so, I would have had it returned to me in their behavior. Instead, they are optimistic realists who will pass my love for them on to their own children. Can one really ask for more than that?

I hate that people have moved into the other side of the duplex. When no one was there, I could almost pretend. I found The Walton Tribune tossed on the street side of the truck. That is sheer laziness, especially when they have been informed that someone with a disability lives here and had instructions to put it in front of the door. Of course, this is also a paper that is only printed 3 times a week and has delivery people who throw the advertiser supplement in the driveways of unoccupied residences, where they end up littering roads and neighborhoods. The guy across the street blasts vulgar rap from his car. He doesn't think of the innocent ears of little children who live here. The grass needs mowing and looks horrible with unraked fall leaves between the blades of grass. So much for Melissa's "Beautification" contest.

Friday, April 18, 2003 ~
So much for getting to the doctor myself today. Instead, I do laundry and think about floating through days with no purpose.

Thursday, April 17,2003 ~
I was so beat last night that I sat here staring at the monitor for half an hour before I decided to curl up on the bed and sleep. That was for the best, as anything I tried to write ended up all jumbled. An obligation to a client had us up and out early today, but the getting out of bed part was not easy. It's not fair that everything aches nowadays when I wake up. We enjoyed lunch at Ryan's on our way home, although why restaurants keep their air conditioning running so cold that customers need sweaters in the summertime remains a mystery to me. Then it was naptime for both of us - or it would have been if the phone hadn't rung numerous times.

Wednesday, April 16, 2003 ~
Evening. We are back after an echausting couple of days. More on the visit to the hospital later, but it would appear that PowWeb, which hosts our domain at Cajam Net, is down temporarily. This means that the lion's entire site, with the exception of forum at voy, is down. Hopefully, he'll be back up soon.

Lion, you asked why I thought I was disappearing. If both of us focus on one thing (you), then yes, I will feel like I am disappearing. That really shouldn't be so difficult to understand. Ya know?

Lutfy, I love you. You've been a big help and we appreciate more than you know this that you sent to your tio:

Sickness Sucks

Tuesday, April 15, 2003 ~
I've been piddling, but have run out of piddle-time. As most of my regular readers know, the lion has been diagnosed with lung cancer on top of the CHF. So we head back to the Medical Center this afternoon for a consultation tomorrow morning. We had a call last night from the lion's brother and sister-in-law, so I am feeling a little less alone. I know we have the support of my children, but they are so very far away. Bunny called too and that was much appreciated. I don't suppose anyone wants to donate to my laptop fund? I have a feeling we will be spending a lot of time in hospital and motel rooms during the next few months. I haven't had a chance to post at forum, but was glad to hear from both Penni and Patsy, both of whom have also been in the hospital. I had no idea Patsy was so sick and both of you have my prayers. I'm not sure when we'll be back. Maybe Wednesday night or Thursday morning, but it is only the beginning of what will be many trips.

Monday, April 14, 2003 ~
I got up so late the day's half over. I'm cranky and irritable and the Jehovah's Witnesses at the door didn't help matters one iota. My toast and coffee are cold and I have too darned much to do and no time to do it in. But hey, it's Monday. Anyone have a spare pepper shaker I can throw?

By the way, all you fans of Baghdad Bob, et al, may want to visit We Love the Iraqi Information Minister.com, where you will find daily updates and outrageous quotes from the minister of disinformation himself. For you diehard fans, there is even a store We Love the Iraqi Minister of Information.com Store where you can purchase tee shirts and coffee mugs with pithy quotes like "God will roast their stomachs in hell."

I see the new smoking ban in N.Y.C. has caused its first stabbing fatality. I hope the folks here in Loganville take note. Of course, the New York incident took place outside a bar and Loganville doesn't have any of those either. I think it's about time we start a few private clubs here in Georgia for those who enjoy their vices. Does anyone have a lot to sell that is at least a mile away in all directions from a Baptist church? I didn't think so.

Sunday, April 13, 2003 ~
Honey sent us the following fabulous tribute to our soldiers in Iraq. Go visit and turn your speakers up.Shoulder to Shoulder

Monday, April 7, 2003 ~
It's noon. It's raining. And we are still here. Laf slept for 4 or 5 hours after Bunny and the girls took off. I used the time to straighten the house back up and pack suitcases so we could leave, but it was after 6 p.m. when he opened his eyes and he decided he wanted to wait until this morning. Now it is already afternoon. He is sleeping now and, as our appt. is for 1:30 tomorrow, I can see us waiting again, but who knows? Now the phone rings. It is a client. And the lion awakens. Time for meds.

I hadn't heard from my son for close to 2 months and asked one of his twin sisters if she had. She told me that it had, in fact, been his friend, Robin Armstrong, who'd been killed last week. Robin had come in to Rochester from San Francisco on business and was running with some of Nate's hasher group when he fell and grabbed a live wire belonging to CSX Transportation Co.(where "Safety is a way of life"??) Robin's funeral was this weekend. I'd seen the headline on my homepage last week and I'd quickly pulled it up as it makes me nervous when I don't hear from Nate, but there had been little info given in the original article. I found the rest and a photo of Robin and his fiancee at The Atlanta Hash Yap-Yap Forum, but there appears to be a forum problem on their end, so I'll place his photo here. To Nate, to Robin's family, and to his fiancee, I am so very sorry.

And, as I'd figured, the lion wishes to head to Augusta tomorrow to make his scheduled appointment. I would have preferred to get him in a bed there today, but we will do as he wishes.

Lion, if anything happens to you, besides missing your physical presence, there will always be one thing I will never know. Not really. Not for sure. And yes, it is important.

Sunday, April 6, 2003~
4000 donut holes and 6 cases of Pepsi later, Bunny and her brood are headed back north to the igloo they call home in Michigan. This month is usually a busy time for us with only a week and a half left to get returns done, but this year has seen a decline in the lion's health. After 3 weeks of napping upright in the recliner, he is exhausted. We have an appointment in Augusta Tuesday, but he is feeling so horrible that we may leave and head to the ER there as soon as I can get us packed up this afternoon. If we do make the trip today, we will be gone for at least 2 days.

Thursday, April 3, 2003 ~
The sun is shining. A warm breeze wafts in through the open window. I'm not sure it makes any difference that spring is finally here. The lawns and shrubs are not my own. The Harry Arnold Creek flows through clay in the back and there is nothing I can do about that. It's hard to stay positive about the future now. My lion is so sick....so very sick. He apologizes for wanting to give up his fight to stay alive. And I don't know what to do or what to say. I don't want him to give up. I don't want to live without him. He plays music for himself...for me...and I try to memorize each note.

PETA definitely has waaaayyyyy too much time on its hands.

Wednesday, April 2, 2003 ~
Checking email. I am always over quota at yahpoo. Hope and Bar both sent me this url. Please visit The Final Inspection. Voy tells us that the forum is down for some reason or another. They are doing "sumpin." They are ALWAYS doing "sumpin," it seems.

Tom Daschle gets it wrong again!

Tuesday, April 1, 2003 ~
We are off. Say a prayer for the lion, please. Thank you, Arden.

And so we wait...The lion's EF is too low and he would not survive an operation now. For an explanation of what the EF is, visit CHF Patients.

Saturday, March 29, 2003 ~
It figures that the temperature would drop like a rock the instant I put on shorts. It also figures that Bun would forget to call us to let us know when to expect her. We are not happy campers here as we expected the same consideration from her that she demanded from the girlfriend traveling with her. Bar, I love you dearly, but I can't keep up with your forwards. My email was over quota again today. I've been in my gender site working as I can for the past few days. It's been a long time since I've been able to work on those and I'm trying to get them updated. We head to the Medical College on Tuesday and I'm very concerned that this time, the lion will be put in a bed there. The Lasix isn't working as it should and he has been sleeping in his recliner in order to stay in a more upright position. I was pleased to hear from Jon DeSantis, a cardiologist in upstate NY. He has agreed to take a look at the lion's CAT tests for me. Jon sounded horribly depressed. His daughter, who was his best friend and constant companion, was killed 2 days before Christmas in a snowmobile accident. Jon and I went kindergarten through 12th grade together and haven't seen each other since graduation. We were part of one terrific class - a truly nice bunch of kids. I've had sporadic contact with only a few. I wonder where Bonnie Schoonover is? She visited me at my parents' house sometime during the 70's, but I lost track of her after that. Nola tells us the doctors may finally have to amputate her leg. I pray they will find another way, hon. I can't even begin to imagine how scared you must be.

William Wallace must have too much time on his hands. It would serve him well to keep his mouth shut and just do his job. His comment, even in context, was as just as thoughtless as many of the comments made by the anti-war activists. Yes, video war games are used as a training tool, but we would hope that they are used with the understanding that computer games cannot replace human intelligence or the need to take into consideration that Saddam is missing a few screws and the only thing predictable about him is that he will do all he can to save his own wealthy behind. Did Wallace give any thought at all to how his staement would be received by those who will use any opportunity to ridicule the U.S.? Laf is right when he states that we MUST go all out and complete our objectives in the war. See Whose Expectations are They Anyway?

lol! Well, Ty? Nite, hon!

Saturday, March 22, 2003 ~
Confucius did NOT say, "If you trust anyone else with the game plan, be assured he will deliver it to the opposition." But he should have.

"The masculine and feminine elements, exactly equal and balancing each other are as essential to the maintenance of the equilibrium of the universe as positive and negative electricity, the centripetal and centrifugal forces, the laws of attraction which bind together all we know of this planet whereon we dwell and of the system in which we revolve."

Elizabeth Cady Stanton

I never realized she said this. I'm not surprised and I understand that her use of the word "equal" is not, perhaps, the definition you would find in Webster's. However, the 2nd and 3rd Wave Feminists have distorted her meaning. If you consider the yin and the yang symbols, they are shaped to fit together. They are of equal proportion, yet they are not the same. The yin is whole in its own right, as is the yang. They have equal value. When one is out of proportion to the other, they do not fit together and there is unrest. This applies globally, nationally, and on a personal level within our own relationships.

Friday, March 21, 2003 ~
It doesn't seem like any time or any day. Fox News is on 24/7 now with the updates on the war in Iraq. Sometimes, the lion flips to CNN. It is sunny and breezy, but the air still feels cool coming in through the windows. It is warmer in the sun, of course, although I am losing reasons to go outside. I feel like I am losing reasons for a lot of things lately. Perhaps even losing hope. Sometimes, these little visions come over me. They last only a second or two, but I see me alone. That scares the hell out of me. But sometimes I feel that way even now, like I am only just a secondary soul.

Author: noam Date: 21-03-03 17:58 While the anti-war crowds clog the streets and mourn the defeat of diplomacy, and the defeated UN opposition gets their hollow soundbytes out to every anti-american corner of the globe, below is an excerpt from the completely ignored component of the war. The oppressed. Below an excerpt from AP writer Helen Knickmyer on the capture of Safwan, Iraq. More meaningful to me than all the cheap rhetoric of Chirac, Anan, Putin, Madonna, Sarandon, Baldwin, Baldwin, and Baldwin. More than all of the "opinion" polls from every corner of the babbling world: "The Marines arrived in Safwan, just across the Kuwait border, after Cobra attack helicopters, attack jets, tanks, 155 mm howitzers and sharpshooters cleared the way along Route 80, the main road into Iraq. Safwan, 375 miles south of Baghdad, is a poor, dirty, wrecked town pocked by shrapnel from the last Gulf war. Iraqi forces in the area sporadically fired mortars and guns for hours Thursday and Friday. Most townspeople hid, although residents brought forth a wounded little girl, her palm bleeding after the new fighting. Another man said his wife was shot in the leg by the Americans. A few men and boys ventured out, putting makeshift white flags on their pickup trucks or waving white T-shirts out truck windows. "Americans very good," Ali Khemy said. "Iraq wants to be free." Some chanted, "Ameriki! Ameriki!" Many others in the starving town just patted their stomachs and raised their hands, begging for food. A man identifying himself only as Abdullah welcomed the arrival of the U.S. troops: "Saddam Hussein is no good. Saddam Hussein a butcher." An old woman shrouded in black — one of the very few women outside — knelt toward the feet of Americans, embracing an American woman. A younger man with her pulled her away, giving her a warning sign by sliding his finger across his throat. In 1991, hundreds of thousands of Iraqis died after prematurely celebrating what they believed was their liberation from Saddam after the Gulf War. Some even pulled down a few pictures of Saddam then — only to be killed by Iraqi forces. Gurfein playfully traded pats with a disabled man and turned down a dinner invitation from townspeople. "Friend, friend," he told them in Arabic learned in the first Gulf War. "We stopped in Kuwait that time," he said. "We were all ready to come up there then, and we never did." The townspeople seemed grateful this time. "No Saddam Hussein!" one young man in headscarf told Gurfein. "Bush!"

Wednesday, March 19, 2003 ~
It's somewhat odd how even as war approaches, and the possibility of terroristic attacks here increases, we play for hours under the covers, we take the trash out, we do laundry and check email and shave, we paint and dance and eat Freedom Fries while Iraqi soldiers lay their weapons down in the DMZ. It rains here and snows there and I hate thinking about the storyline in her dreams. "Oh, I am a suffering soul whom no one understands but you. Let me take care of you and you, on your white charger, will rescue me from "them" and we will live in paradise for the rest of our days!" Once the love bug bites a woman, it would be easier for the U.S. military to win a war in Iraq than it would be for them to keep her from her man.

"An intellectual is a person who has discovered something more interesting than sex."
~ Aldous Huxley

Also Wednesday ~
If you are one of those people who never mend the holes in their pockets, read here and mend your ways. If you figger it out, come help me mend mine.

Wednesday evening ~
It is now 1 hour past the deadline given by President Bush to Saddam Hussein and his sons. I happened to run across this transcript of events during the first Mother of All Wars.

Where is Raed? Shortly after I added the above link last night, the Internet out of Baghdad went down. I will leave the link here for now in case it comes back up. In the meantime, here is a link to the Al Bawaba forum I monitor. If you visit it from here, make sure you refresh to make sure you can read the newest posts. There is no comfirmation yet as to whether or not the immediate objective was successful. It is 8:50 a.m., Thursday, March 20th, and as I write, the Fox News reporter has been ordered to put on his gas mask. He reports that traffic continues through the city and that although some pedestrians are running for cover, others are simply walking down the street as the air raid sirens sound like nothing is happening. The message from Hussein last night has been determined to have been pre-recorded and, although I am no expert, the individual reading the message did not appear to be Saddam Hussein. Here in Georgia, it is still raining. We slept very little last night and the trip today is sure to be a very tiring one. * Note: Analysts are saying that they believe the man who delivered the speech to the Iraqi people last night, does indeed appear to be Saddam, albeit a very wiped out Saddam.

Virus writers are up to old tricks. There is a new low risk (so far) self-propogating worm being spread in the normal fashion through email, attacking address books in Outlook and looking for security programs like McAfee, Norton and Sophos, then shutting them down. Beware email subjects lines with the following: Screensaver advice, Spy pics, GO USA !!!!, G.W Bush animation, Is USA a UFO?, Is USA always number one?, LINUX, Nazi propaganda?, Catlover, Disgusting propaganda. More info can be found at Sophos by clicking on "New Gandi Virus Info" in the menu at left.

Tuesday, March 18, 2003 ~
A little morning surfing after juice and a chat with Mr. Ego-2-Spare (good luck on your road test, Ryan!), and I happened upon this. Boy, did that photo bring back memories. I remember Shannon when he danced for Tim McGuire. Smuins Ballet in San Francisco now, Shannon? Somehow, I'm not surprised. He always did have tremendous flair, dancing like the next Fred Astaire. He had the best instructor in Tim McGuire, who was loved by everyone but his creditors. My Kiki was not a dedicated dancer, but I'm glad she danced for Tim. Even 10 years later, somewhere in the basement are several bags of the costumes he designed. Feathers and glitter and memories. Tim taught ballet, tap, and jazz and had students as young as 3 and as old as 70. And they all danced their hearts out for him. As there will be in any dance company, there were prima donnas and brats, but they weren't the best dancers. The best had class and treated all of their fellow dancers with respect. Rachel Bennett, Jason Mottram, Shannon Hurlburt, little Robbie Benware, who was a marvel at 5 years of age. And the women who danced for Tim were fabulous to watch. Some were dancers in their own right who came to dance for Tim because of his genius. Other women were just working moms and grandmas who'd always wanted to dance. Tim's family members put in their share of Nutcracker time, as well. He was tough, but he made dancing a joy for so many. Here's to you, Tim! And congratulations, Shannon! I'll have to ask my son where Rachel is. Last I knew she was performing in NY. Rachel was a love. I remember her bringing chicken soup for my son, who'd managed to come down with mono and strep the week before his performance as the Pirate King in Pirates of Penzance. He and I went to watch as his stand-in performed opening night. I had a difficult time enjoying it, knowing how overjoyed Nate was in grabbing the lead. But Nate always was a class act and he was right there, sick as he was, giving support to all the cast members. He deserved that "Mr. Glens Falls" title!

Yes, Lion, it has been a good year. But it is not yet time to go. You have other places under beautiful skies to share with me.

Sunday, March 16, 2003 ~
Jupiter Media Metrix suggests that in the year 2006, every individual with an email box will receive 1400 pieces of spam. It is estimated that each spam email costs $1 in lost worker productivity. It is only 2003. I have numerous email accounts and on a good day receive about 130 pieces of spam. (Please note that I said on a good day. On a bad day, you can quadruple that figure.) I figure someone out there owes me about $54,000. And that figure doesn't include my fight against spam. Multiply it by 10 and you will come closer to what it has actually cost me. ICGCOM owes me 40% of that, at least. According to a report at cnet, the U.S. Federal Trade Commission is preparing to wage war on spammers.

Although the antibiotic and inhalers seemed to help the lion's breathing at first, I am not sure the meds are enough. He is so tired. CHF sucks. I don't have any right to ask him to continue to fight this damned disease, but I'm asking anyway. For now.

One of my IMs tells me that my son has returned from Mexico. Hey, Nate, say "Hi, Mom." On another family note, I am so glad I sent the kids webcams for Christmas. I was able to see Gret, Connor, and Gabe (our lovable Terrorist) on cam the other day. Gabe was more interested in watching himself, of course, so the bulk of our "conversation" consisted of making faces at each other. God, I miss those kids. And I have an almost 7-month old granddaughter I haven't even squeezed yet.

I never did get around to posting birthday wishes for Herb at Forum. Instead, I chatted with him online for a bit. We sent him a card snail mail and I was happy to hear he got it in time. We hope he enjoyed his night out with his boys. And, btw, voy has been down since Saturday for hardware and software upgrades, so they tell us. Keep the faith. We'll be back up soon. On another forum note, I owe Honey a post in re: "Babboo." In the meantime, sweetie, go out and buy yourself a copy of Funny, You Don't Look Like a Grandmother by Lois Wyse. You'll love it! Got a call from Ty last week. His website for Vets, which I will add to the menu shortly, is back up. I also got a call yesterday from Deana, who is living her life in the same way I was up until a year and a half ago. She needs to read The Awakening.

* Note: Ty's site, Veterans Voices, and Rocky's 3/26 Marines web site have been added to the menu. I urge you to visit both.

Wednesday, March 12, 2003 ~
I wheedled and cajoled to talk a stubborn lion into letting me call Doc Coldfinger yesterday. He's now breathing a little easier, as am I. After another weekend with cable access problems, we are back online. The trip to Augusta Monday was exhausting, but breath-takingly beautiful. The Bradford Pears are almost in full bloom and the white blossoms do give an appearance similar to a late Spring snowfall on trees which have already begun to bud. The pear trees are everywhere. They are part of groomed landscapes and they peak out from untended forests. There are already-blossoming magnolias and dogwoods. And my daughter writes forlornly from upstate NY that she wishes the temperature would rise above 50 so she could enjoy a sense of Spring. My windows are open and the wind chimes are singing. The oaks are still bare and clumps of mistletoe are visible among still-used squirrel nest and last year's bird nests. Lawns have already been mowed and rhododendrons and holly are sporting new growth. I watch my favorite animal, the kudzu, and I can sense it waking up and inhaling Spring air.

Friday, March 7, 2003 ~
Something is amiss with Tripod again. I just lost an hour's worth of work here because of a proxy error. However, Nola and I were able to discuss gender issues while I waited for the problem to be fixed. Women are not born feminists. I do not count the new generation of feminists in many discussions because they use the term only because it is something they think they are supposed to be. Women are also born with the the need to survive. As the weaker sex, they look for a male partner strong enough to protect them and to provide for them and for their offspring. If anything distracts the male from his role in life, which, of course, is to provide for the female, the female will not be particularly happy in her cave. The first feminists were actually females who had to go hunt for their own food while their males hid behind rocks playing strip poker with the neighboring tribe's women. Of course, the females knew where their males were and what they were up to and it really didn't bother them because it gave them control over the remote for awhile. But, if the poker games became too frequent, the supply of beefalo diminished, or one of the male's poker chums started hanging around the campfire sporting a new green rock around her neck, the female would get somewhat rightfully irritated. Instead of playing with the remote on the nights her mate was out, she went target-shooting with various household tools. She got quite good at it and was able to bring home enough bacon to feed herself and her children. And there you have the story of the creation of the first feminists. Seriously, folks.

The dogwoods are budding. Forsythia bushes are covered in yellow blossoms. The air is sweet with the scent of softening clay and tiny flowers are poking their heads up through already green grass and wild onion. Forecasters are hard-pressed to be correct as temperatures dip and dive with March winds.

With Spring should come hope and joy, but although I can never lose the first, I do not feel the latter. Instead, I can feel myself withdrawing. I am not good at building walls, nor am I comfortable living inside them.

Tuesday morning, March 4, 2003 ~
I wish the sun and mild temps could do something to alter my mood. There are times when I feel so desperately alone when it comes to practical matters. I could float and ignore them, doing only what I wish to do, like the lion seems to be able to do, but resources are slipping out of my grasp rapidly and I am afraid of the future. My lion seems to have the ability to engage in trivial pursuits. I no longer have time even for daydreams. They would be pointless and a waste of my time anyway.

2 a.m. ~ Even at this hour, the day could get worse. Sometimes I envy those who live so blithely in la-la-land.

Should you trust anyone other than yourself? Our very survival is based on trust. To make any relationship work, whether business, spiritual, or one between nations, there must be trust. If that trust is breeched, the relationship is sullied forever. One or both parties then exist in a state of suspicion, a state of alert. Self-interest is based on the need to survive. The less we can trust, the more self-interested we become. The more we trust, the easier it is to learn, to be productive and creative. Tension caused by lack of trust distracts us from goals because we are forced to waste time building walls (boundaries)to protect ourselves. Trust can only exist where there is truth.

6 p.m., Wednesday, February 26, 2003 ~
I've determined that I need 2 computers, considering how many things I work on at the same time. It's a rainy and raw day and not conducive to going anywhere. I've worked on this and that ~ filing, household things, overflowing email boxes. Had an enjoyable chat with my soon-to-be ex last night. He admitted to 7 feet of snow on the deck. Got used to me doing all that, didn't ya? I think I missed Deb's birthday. Someday I will be organized.

We complain about the use of misleading headlines. Headlines with slanted mega-words used to persuade too many Americans who are too lazy to read the fine print or too lazy to discover the truth by using multiple resources and by paying attention to what is going on around them. But how many of us use these same headline techniques in our personal lives using words to mislead or manipulate others? A lie will always be a lie. (How big was that fish really?) One can dress it up in fine clothing and adorn it with glittering jewels, but it will still be a lie. Partially truthful words can be twisted and and wrapped in obfuscation, but partial truth is not truth. There is also the sin of omission. This is the worst lie. It is silent and deadly. It can destroy relationships betweem individuals and between nations. There can be no respect for those who manipulate others with lies, whether written or spoken. Nor can there be respect for those who use only one source to understand truth or who do not investigate all information available to them. I've always believed that advice or opinion or any philosophy given concerning society, national or global affairs, finances, or relationships and behavior better be the same advice one would give themselves on personal matters. To advise others while squandering one's own life is hypocritical. There are truths that we search for our whole lives and 90% of those truths are sitting in front of our noses. But, whereas looking for truth and learning seem to take a long time, the telling of any truth can usually be said in one breath.

I've always been very perceptive. I recognize word patterns and can apply them accurately to the character of the individual. I do not readily jump to point out what I see and hear. Rather, I watch and wait. The better I know someone, the more easily I can discern immediate purpose behind words. However, even if I don't know someone well, I can still ascertain thoughts and motives. In fact, everyone should be able to do the same. Unfortunately, this is not the case. Too many people are so full of thoughts of themselves that they cannot see the other person. The other person becomes someone to talk AT, rather than to talk with. There are those who would deny they do this, however what occurs is that they listen to the other individual simply to pick up keywords that will give them an opportunity to elaborate on their own thoughts. This is different than simply reacting to another person. It may or may not be deliberate. But, whichever it is, it denotes a lack of emotional intelligence.

If you buy eggs at the store and drop the bag while loading the car, do you go back in and tell the clerk that you hadn't realized there was a broken egg in the crate so they will replace it for you OR do you plop the crate of eggs in the trash and simply go back in and buy another crate of eggs? In other words, do you lie? Do you spend time making up a story loosely based on truth so that you have what may sound like a valid excuse for something you've done or neglected to do? Sometimes people get so used to manipulating the truth to serve their own needs, that they don't realize they are doing it. Sometimes, they have simply found through experience that they seem to be good at it and it becomes a habit. There is only one reason people lie. To get something they want. To get something for free that they do not deserve. A thing. An action. Someone's goodwill. To not be held accountable. Undeserved respect.

Sunday, February 23, 2003 ~
I will be working on Hobbsie's birthday post in a bit. The lion has had a couple of very bad days and we are a little behind. Remember to check forum later and wish him a Happy Birthday. In the meantime, did you know that the United States spends more on trash bags than 90 other countries spend on everything? Or that that there is a home on the Net for really stupid people?

Wednesday, February 19, 2003 ~
OK...another decision...as I will be working on this page for awhile before I get it completely set up, you might as well watch me work:) Go to the forum and wish the Lion a Happy Birthday!

Tuesday, February 18, 2003 ~
"You are not permitted to kill a woman who has wronged you, but nothing forbids you to reflect that she is growing older every minute. You are avenged 1440 times a day." Happy Birthday, Sis.

Have something on your mind that you'd like to discuss with Saddam Hussein's son, Uday? Send him email! Does hell have email?Uday

Are you paranoid? No? Well, perhaps you should be!

Tuesday, February 18, 2003 ~
"With women, the heart argues, not the mind." - Matthew Arnold
I would change that to read "With women, the heart argues with the mind.

** As I said at the top of this page, I am trying to tease the lion into doing his own arrangement of the Trace Adkins song "Aint No Thinking Thing." There are a few others I'd like him to do, as well. What about you? Any requests? He has completed "Janna's Song" and is waiting to hear from her before publishing it. Janna, plug in your speakers!

This beautiful arrangement of "The Dance" is used with permission from MIDI Composer, J. James. If you would like to use this music, he has provided a form for your request: J. James If you would like to visit his Library for more MIDI and Real Player selections, clicking on his logo will take you there. He arranged over 100 musical selections and you will find his collection of MIDIs, as well as his own original compositions in Real Player format. All rights are reserved to the original artists and composers.

The above graphic was created by yours truly.

Saturday, February 1, 2003 ~
A note to my readers ~
When I began this journal several years ago,
there were no "blogger" websites or "weblogs," as they are now called. I have written this as one would read a book. Current entries will be found by scrolling down, not up. I had considered changing this method for Journal Four, but feel that those of you who come here who do not know me or who are not regular readers will be more likely to read this in its entirety if I leave it as is ~ for now ~

You will also find information about the music you hear at the bottom of this page, or you may click on "J's Midis" in the menu.
Thanks, Sage

My regular readers know that I've always kept links to my other pages at the very bottom of my Journal. I decided to change that and have added a menu on the left. The link to AllRecipes.com is here for my convenience as well as for anyone who actually enjoys cooking:) Maybe I'll even post the Lion's red beans and rice recipe at AllRecipes. Then Draggie can whip some up for herself. The CHF site is on the menu because that is the disease Laf & I deal with on a daily basis.

For those of you who really feel you need to know what I look like, you can flip to Journal Three. This link works now, btw. Geesh, you woulda thought someone would tell me it wasn't. Thanks for the butterfly image goes to Bonnie's Designs If you are looking for beautiful graphics and page sets, please give her website a visit.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8
Love is patient and is kind;
Love does not envy.
Love does not brag, is not proud,
Love is not rude and does not seek its own way,
Love is not provoked, and takes no account of evil;
Love does not rejoice in wrongdoing,
but rejoices with the truth;
Love always protects, always hopes,
always trusts and endures all things.
Love never fails!