There were green alligators and long necked beast

and then there is the resident horde here.

Blogger still isn't letting me post photos but here are some I put up special for you all.

First, Amos Moses, the flying kitty from the wedding. He grew to be a monster tiger with wonderful hunting skills. He was also a lover and a fighter. I am not sure which he was doing when I heard a gun shot one day and he never came home again, I'm betting on making babies.

The next photo was the mate's favorite of the best dog he ever had. When he picked him out of the littler of classic boxer pups his hair was so thin he looked "buck naked". For his courtesy registry we named him "King William's Bucky" aka Mate's sidekick. We all call him Buck.

He is a white boxer and has all the best qualities of the breed. He is playful, wonderful with children of any size, energetic, loves to romp and minds his boss.




















He almost died of Parvo at eight weeks old but when the vet sent him home to die the mate rubbed canned cat food on his gums and washed it down with water dripped on the back of his tongue and carried him out to do his business then held him in his lap. He got laid off that Monday for two weeks and darn if he didn't nurse him back to health. They were bonded with a real respect and affection for each other. Buck had been on double guard duty ever since the mate left us. So has the escape artist/road block, Shadow, my chow/lab half breed. Shadow was gifted to us when my own wonderful Lt. Warf passed on. She was just old enough to make puppies.

You guessed it, Buck had never had a girl friend and he was about seven years old then, in his prime. We had TEN boxadors. She was an excellent mom and we only lost one of them. I was up all night with her and have photos of the little, wet wigglers, one through ten. In this one they are about 4 weeks old.




This is kind of a before and after deal. I got exausted putting five out for her and then switching off as they got older. She did, too.

It was summer and the mate and I used to carry them out to the puppy part of the dog pen in two laundry baskets. All nine got excellent homes, and boy, was I glad to be back down to two dogs and two cats.

At that time we had Fancy and her son, Timone. I have mentioned them before.

Fancy was a rescue from a box in the hot sun at a flea market. No, not by me, by the big, rough looking biker I was with.

The mate was always soft for babies of any kind and they liked him. Kittens, puppies, kids, if it was little and cute I had to master my own instinct to bring it home and then beat him into leaving it behind, too.

This kitten had black eye liner like Tammy Faye but we named her Fancy because she was just a barn cat, or "plain white trash". She would climb this pine outside the window and glare at us until we let her back in where it was warm. She was Timone's mom. We lost her to an accident with a rescued dog later.














Timone and his litter mates we always called a "boat kittens". His mom escaped the house, where I had a nice box with a blanket ready, and had them outside under our fishing boat. I picked him out to keep while he was still little and wet. He was the biggest and grew to be the fuzziest, just the way I like them. His regal attitude and stuffy demenor belie the kitten still within him.

Two christmas's ago, when we were a cat short, so to speak, we went to the nephew's for the holiday and his cat fell for the Mate!

Mystique came to join us a day or two later. We solved her problem of wanting to be inside all the time by introducing her to our other cat, His Highness, Timone, and our two dogs. She didn't like them and they didn't like her.

It took six weeks to get all of them getting along together. In the early spring she started acting strangely. It took me more weeks to figure out I had an addict for a cat.

The 'nip was up and she was IN it! All the time. I can't believe how hot she is for her catnip. Last winter she got my stash I dried for tea and tore it all up all over the kitchen floor. Now, I just call her the stoner cat and try not to let her rug flipping habits trip me up.

They all speak basic English; back door, front door, No, good, bad, here, stop, etc. The dogs do their tricks to hand signals. I even have a very subtle one that tells Buck to bark. It works for people at the door that I want to have leave..LOL!

The cats open the back door from the porch when they want in, the dogs open the gates if I don't lock them. Buck unties knots for fun, Shadow escapes. The dogs chase the cats in the yard when they are bored but the neighbor cats have been unseen since the new fence went in.

Shadow is always near me, behind me, at the foot of the bed, between me and where ever I want to go. She and Buck both go off on "intruder alert" for the littlest unknown noise or if they are startled when the cats open the back door. The cats are pretty worthless. I don't have any mice right now because we had the basement all torn up and ran them off. They will be back this winter and I will have to think about getting a real mouser because I can't run the mate's trap line. I hate mice.

I keep them fed, medicated, flea-ed and fussed with. The kids and grands all come when they can just to give the dogs attention. We are all short some pets right now but it is harder on them. All my habits are changing and the one where I sit in on the couch and watch TV with the mate is history. There is no more "sitting on the couch with our people and getting pets' hour and they miss it. But we are ok, just thin on the pets.

They are glad to see me when I get home and make me get up to let them out so I can't lay around on these days that are too hot and too stressed to make going out seem like a good idea. I really was going to go out tonight but next thing I knew it was closing time.

They make me angry, frustrated, cranky and they cost me money. They make me laugh and go out and play and stop what I am doing to pay attention to them. We have been together now in this formation six months and with these critters two years at christmas, I think. Timone is one year older than Buck and Buck is ten this year. Shadow should be about 4 and I think Mistique is 3-ish. I worry about losing the two old ones. I get heart broken easier all the time and I'm still pretty tender. But I need to thin the ranks, anyway, it's a lot of work with four of them and I am too lazy to want to do it forever.

I think I will always have a dog of some kind, I have gotten used to it. I like the added sense of safety they give me with their better hearing and quicker reflexes. I hate mice so I will probably always have a cat, too, as long as I have a house.

I always felt bad for kids that couldn't have pets. I still do.

In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the Lions sleep

I saw the first exhibition game for the Detroit Lions is coming up August 11th. I no longer have satellite so I will have to hit the sport bar to see it. For my first "Something I have been meaning to do and keep putting off" today I wrote the following and mailed it to the fan email.

To the entire Detroit Lions Staff and all players,

I have followed the Lions through thick and thin. Aside from being born in Michigan, I decided in my early years that they were MY team. This only became important in my teen years to impress the guys with how much I knew about something important to them. For my husband, though, it was a life long obsession. He remembered watching his first Lions game with his Dad when he was only four years old. Nothing was allowed to be scheduled if the Lions game was on unless the event INCLUDED the game in that family.

I knew that when I married him. We were always where we could watch the games. If he missed one he would be wild until he read all about it. Every year he would avidly watch from the first draft pick to the last game of season. He knew the stats on the players, where they were from, their college records and their girlfriend's names, if they had one. He could tell me the score of any game in any year. He lived to see you win and didn't just watch your games but berated, encouraged and cheered you on either from his chair or the stands the few times we could afford him a ticket.

Several years ago he won a Spuds type stuffed dog dressed in a Lions uniform in a claw machine. He put it right up by the TV. One day, after a miserable loss that left my mate cussing a blue streak and screaming about incompetent coaching, I took a lunch sack and put the small brown bag over the dog's head. I thought it would make him laugh. It did. He took the bag off and cut eye holes in it so the dog could see the games, he said. It stood there every day, bag or no bag, and I would know how you were doing even if I missed a game.

His daughters, raised to be stout fans and who also love the game, would make every effort to watch games here or, if they could not come, call their Dad at high points (or spectacular lows) and ask, "Is the bag off or on the dog NOW?", and he would tell them which and they would talk about why. If we were all here watching then, after the game, he would ceremoniously remove or replace the bag on the dog and we would all boo or cheer.

As the years went by he continued to say "maybe this year the Lions will get in the Super Bowl" every time we talked sports. But on my blog I used the phrase "Sure, and the Lion's will win the Super Bowl this year," like you would say, "a snowball's chance in he** ", because we didn't see it happening. The coaches changed and the players changed and the game changed a little every year, you still never made it.

My beloved mate didn't get to watch the Super Bowl this year. In fact, he will never have the chance to see you play there. After being a Lions fan for 48 years, at the age of 52. he died this January on the 25th. In all the years he has watched the Lions, cheered, been heart broken and thrilled, The Detroit Lions never played in the big game. Two things he never got to do in this life that he really wanted to do, drive a NASCAR race car and see the Lions win the Super Bowl.

Whole families plan their days around your games. What you do on the field is not just "play football", it is striving to be the BEST football team out of all of them. By falling into the "it's just a game" mentality, the "I got my money, who cares" or the, "me, me, me the star" you each keep the team from being the best it can be.

You are not just highly paid athletes but humans we expect to demonstrate supreme, extreme, and top of the line abilities - not mediocre play that we can see at any high school game - but champion players we expect to see striving to win so hard together that they are bigger than life. You are role models who create a state wide pride we feel with your every win and mourn with every loss.

When even one of you lets politics, money or a poor attitude affect your ability to play for the team and as a team member you spoil everything we hope for. It's not that our team can't lose, we expect you to lose to a better team, it's that in the last few years evidence of THE TEAM playing on the field has been thin. It's the quarterback or the receiver or the blockers or the center, not THE TEAM. If you are not functioning as a team how can you expect to even challenge another team? 12 guys can't beat ONE TEAM, it won't happen.

Now, it is the beginning of a new season for you. The Detroit Lions have changed coaches, staff and players once more in the intricate dance to create a winning team for Michigan. It's a fresh start. I would like each of you to commit yourself to the team the way you would to your woman. If you are going to cheat, not do you best, not support the guy next to you when he needs it, lie and drink and use your big bucks to party all night, bribe someone to get you an extra large whopper or a bottle or whatever, you will end up the same way a relationship would if you act like that - All broken up.

You have to go into it swearing nothing is ever going to be worth letting the team down. Not just saying it but acting like they were always first with you. You set standards for others, behaving with honor and respect toward each other shows younger men how to act. Faithfully practicing your skills to become even better yourself so the team will be better over puts you where you really can win.

You have to each decide that - bad breathe, body odor, color, accent, size, 'tude - ain't none of it gonna count. If that guy is a Lion then the TEAM needs him then you need to get along with him to work together. You, yourself, will be stronger, better, faster, and more experienced at what you do. You have to be committed to nothing BUT the team.

You will have the satisfaction of knowing you did whatever you had to so the TEAM could get there. You ate right, rested, exercised, practiced, encouraged each other, kept each other pumped for winning, for striving, for attempting to be the very best TEAM the Lions have ever been. Then the team can win. The TEAM can go to the Super Bowl this year.

So please, for my mate who never got to see it, for the guy with the next ticket out of here after next year's Super Bowl, I'm asking you; Work together, sleep together, dance together, sing together, whatever it takes for you to be a TEAM that plays football TOGETHER.

Make it to the Super Bowl. Do it this year. Not, "oh, this is a shake down year, maybe next year", not, "Uh, we just got this coach, maybe next year,'.

You are supposed to be the best of the best. Show me the best. I want to see the best you have every time you hit the field. I want every play to go until the whistle blows. I don't want to see one player stop trying to catch that ball, stop that man, block that kick, make that tackle until the refs pull you off. And for crying out loud guys, learn the rules! Flags are BAD!

The only thing the kids almost fought about when the mate died was the Lions Dog. I claim it until I am gone so the fight will have to wait. I can take the bag off the dog if you win even one game. I leave it off until you lose, unless it is a justifiable loss. That means you lost to a better team.

Are you going to let there be a better team than the Lions this year? Are you going to leave that poor dog with the bag on his head forever? Are you going to let even one more true fan die without seeing you play in the Super Bowl?

I have had one heart attack, if you don't get it in gear and hit the Super Bowl this year I may never get to see you play in it so I can tell him about it when I get there.

Your next best fan,
Valerie

And now the Lion Dog lives on the side bar. Last year ended with the bag on. It stays until they win one that isn't just lucky breaks but skill and team work.

One tin soldier rides away

Ananke, one of the bloggers I read regularly, signed up for 2,996. The site wants one blogger to memorialize each person that died in the 9/11 attack. I think it's a timely idea and I hope enough bloggers sign up to cover all the names. I signed up to do one at the Invisible Wounded site. I was number 1034. They still need 1,920 bloggers to commit to the project. Please consider signing up for it.

Letting America forget that we were attacked on our own ground and have yet to find all those responsible would be criminal. We are too soft already. I have Martin John Coughlan. He will be honored and remembered there on 9/11/06.

I had yesterday off to attend the memorial service for my friend. I saw two of her kids but the boy was in and out so fast even his sisters didn't get to see him. The pastor and I played guitar and sang a little after the dinner. The photo boards were nice because I could track the kids through the years. The girls made up the memorial cards and some nice bookmarks with a photo of their mom on them. We had done that for just immediate family for Dad. It's a nice memory to have floating around your books.

On the way back I stopped to visit my little red truck guy. His folks had an offer on their home and were looking at a community near by for their future housing. His step dad that just had the double knee surgery was out playing cards with friends and got home while I was still there. They seemed to all be a little more cheerful this visit. I keep hoping things will work out for them. The little bit I have been able to encourage them or help seems so small.

I also stopped by the Uncle's place and told him I wouldn't be over tomorrow for dinner. I visited with the cousin a little, too. When I was done there I drove through the rain to a little restaurant I like and had dinner. It was my way of turning a negative feeling trip into something a little more positive.

It rained hard last night and while it is suppose to bypass us today it is going to be really hot this weekend. Worse than the 89 degrees yesterday. I am thinking about going north to avoid it.

The Best Girl called me at work today. She is going out to mow for me, bless her heart. That was my job for tonight. Now I can huddle under the air conditioner with her instead.

If it stays nice I may get the bike out for a night run under the Cheshire moon tonight.

This tiny ring is a token

of tender emotion; an endless pool of love that's as deep as the ocean, She swears to wear it with eternal devotion.

My virtual friend and cheerleader, Mama Mouse, wrote about wedding rings today. I had no real words to share until I read her words so I owe her a big thanks!

The Rings.

When the mate and I got together we started out just about as low as you can go. I had been traveling and most of my things fit in one back pack or were in storage in Windy City. He had one little Chevy Luv truck that held all his possessions and, of course, the Harley Sportster. While we both worked there was child support plus all the expense of deposits and such in setting up a new home. We didn't have a savings plan, we had a change jar.

On a trip to the flea market soon afte that I saw a shiny, green Australian crystal ring. It was ten whole dollars. The Mate went back and got it for me as a surprise. When he pulled it out to put it on my finger he said, "This will have to do for now, but it still means I want to be with you forever." I called it my "promise ring and wore it until the stone was too loose for safety and the metal on the band almost worn through. It meant every bit as much to me as any expensive ring other women may have had. When you looked at it in "percentage of available funds" it had cost him an awful lot of gas money that should have gone for getting to work.

I guarded it with my life. It was always getting caught on my jeans pockets or whacking into something. It meant my man loved me. In almost two years I never took it off. I never gave the mate any jewelry, he didn't like things hanging off his body, too dangerous to him in the presses and tooling he worked with, but I treasured my green ring.

When we moved in together he surprised me one night by asking me to go for a ride with him. We drove out to the pond I grew up on and where we courted an out to the pines where we had talked the day we reconciled after so many years. He parked there and seriously asked me to marry him. He pulled out a small box with an engagement set he had gotten at one of those Mart stores for very few dollars and gave me two rings of fake diamonds when I said yes to him.

I moved the green ring over and wore them proudly. They were his promise to me that I would be his in the eyes of the world, not just his eyes. It was so important to him that I know he treasured me enough to make it public and legal. Knowing this man I respected so much cared for me so sweetly was on both my hands now whenever times got bad.

After all the paperwork of our pasts was caught up and we had the option to truly wed we were still living fairly hand to mouth. It took time to save up enough to even think about rings. There was the preacher to take care of, too. Everytime we had money for one, something came up and there wasn't enough for both.

One Friday, a payday, we realized we would have almost a hundred and thirty dollars left. WOW! Bonanza! We were in The Big City, anyway, so we went to a discount jewelery store and found both our plain, white gold bands for a low enough price that we could still get a preacher.

Oh boy! We were getting MARRIED! When we got home I called the preacher of choice and he was only available in one month or the next afternoon at two p.m. No Brainer there, eh? (KIRA!) I called my sister and borrowed a dress then asked her to bake a cake, too, bless her heart. I called the rest of our friends and family and told them the wedding was tomorrow at two and bring their own lawn chairs.

I made tons of tea to be iced and prestacked filters of coffee, got disposable cups and plates and plastic silverware at the dollar store, tossed a table cloth over the picnic table and set up a card table with another, un matched but pretty cloth and we were up!

Surprisingly enough, his best man, my matron of honor, both mothers, and all local siblings with their families and our closest friends were all available! If I had been trying to get up a card game I would have come up short, but they were all coming and asking if we needed anything. It was only going to be coffee, tea and cake with ice cream but we were treating them. The mate had a fit when I suggested "pot luck", they were our guests, we would feed them. I loved his 'tude sometimes and that was one of them.

The day was perfect. In September, and the last week almost, we could have had anything from tornados to blizzards. A blue sky dotted with little lamb clouds holding the sun up had the temperture at 75 degrees with almost no humidity. We were up that morning and running - coffee, showers, last minute set up, pick a boquet and wrap it, shower again, greet early guests, direct chair set up, change clothes, greet the preacher, break the spagetti strap on my sister's dress, ACK!, pin it, quick! Breathe, relax, breathe. He went out and I waited.

There was no music. My mate waited for me beside the preacher and I heard him making "late to her own funeral" jokes, even though it was only one minute after the appointed hour. I walked out and paused for another breath of air on the top of the steps. I turned and looked right into the mate's eyes and, holding that eye contact, strolled slowly over to join him and our friends in front of the preacher.

It was a standard ceremony, pretty much. After some scripture and helpful hints the preacher had us join hands, both of them. I handed off my flowers to my friend, turned to look once again into the proud and smiling eyes of my soon to be husband and willingly raised my hands for him to hold. We were both just short of giggling because the "obey" part was coming and we had substituted 'respect', knowing neither of us ever obeyed anyone. We hadn't told the moms. It made us smile clear to our ears and look lovingly in cahoots with each other.

The preacher was getting to the important stuff and our grins turned to somber, on my honor, no kidding, forever and ever faces. Our eyes were locked as the mate began to "repeat after me".

Right then there was a TICKLE at my ankle. I shifted my weight a little. Then a NIBBLE! Then a weight galavanting up the INSIDE of my slip! I had rescued a kitten a week or so earlier and it had never seen a dress! It was exploring clear to my hip. I was NO WAY going to interrupt the promises we were making but the little bugger was maybe going to rip the dress right down! Remember the pinned strap? The extra weight was bad!

Still holding tenderly to the mate's hands and looking deeply into the mate's eyes I caught a glimpse of our neice with her hands clasped over her mouth to my left and knew this was going to be bad. The crowd had seen it coming!

I caught that little scamp with a bump of my hip and shook him loose. He slid right down my leg and lay across the top of my shoe. I lifted that foot, balanced myself, pulled the leg slightly behinded me and launched the grey tiger kitten between the mate and the preacher. He soared like a flying squirrel, legs splayed out and tail ruddering behind him, for about ten feet and landed gently in the bushes. All puffed up for war, he raced toward the house right between us and our guests.

The adults burst into wild laughter even as the children tried to "be good" and stay quiet. The mate and the preacher never saw a thing and both looked a little perplexed but neither of them missed a cue and we continued.

We finally got to the 'with this ring' part. My mate's friend handed him the small, insignificant looking white box, already opened. The mate took out my ring and held it for me to get his. The preacher surely said something about endless circles and joining two and all that but the mate and I were in our own space. He made his vows to me. They were the vows of a knight to his lady and he enhanced all of them with the commitment and truth in his eyes.

I can still see my hand, ringless now, lying in his large, tanned and calloused one with just that one finger lifted up and feel him trying to slide it on without hurting me as he hit the knuckle. As my turn came I looked only to him and stated my vows with my full heart and soul behind them. We were so full of our love. I started his ring on his finger and he gave me an assist at his knuckle then took both my hands in his two loving ones as we were officially pronounced man and wife. What a kiss! We were always good at kissing. And the crowd cheered!

The day was wonderful, there was enough of everything, his Bro1 brought champagne that is the only kind I have ever enjoyed drinking and I can't tell you what it was, everyone had fun and there were more photos of the troublesome kitten than the bridal party.

Like every other day, that one ended. The only difference it made was that we were legally able to sleep together in the eyes of the church, the state and our people, as long as we only "slept" in approved ways, LOL! Oh, and we had matching rings now.

Rings for love are simple bands of metal in most cases. The Rings we exchanged the day we married were white gold bands. Both of us liked the color, the mate because it looked like chrome (LOL) and myself I like silver, but it's too soft for the life I lead, as is yellow or black hills gold. We needed the extra endurance of a heartier metal to have an expression of our commitment that would last through engines, gardening, chores and the other heavy jobs of life. It also remained beautiful through whatever we did as neither of us would take them off if it could be avoided and the gentler metals would have worn through or been destroyed too easily.

My engagement set burned up in the fire just five months after the wedding. I was wearing the green ring and my wedding band. Through the years there were times that even they had to come off. The mate still hated anything that might get caught in machinery so took his off when he was too worried about it. I broke that finger once. It took two nurses working in turns to cut it off. I pouted till the mate got it fixed for me. Sometimes, when we were watching TV or just sitting together we would bump them together and say 'Shazam!" like the old cartoon. Other times we would click them as we held hands. We would both roll them around and around with our thumb when we were bored or nervous.

I bought the mate a ring one year for his other hand. It was onyx mounted in silver with a flat setting and stone. His bike was silver and black, so was the ring. He really liked it and wore it until it got too small over time. One Christmas the mate bought me a beautiful garnet ring in a yellow gold band. I retired the green ring, now almost worn out and wore the band through on the garnet, too. For my 50th bday the tender lover brought me a diamond ring I have mentioned before. It was channel set and doesn't often catch on anything. I wear it still.

When he died I removed his ring and wore it on a chain around my neck, for both of us. It was still my promise to him to love and to cherish. But the next line is 'til death us do part'. It took months for me to struggle with that line. I know he exists beyond what we call "death". And I am not dead yet.

But our promises were kept. We loved honored and respected, through sickness and in health and never faltered in our vows. Facing the fact that those vows were a thing of my past was a big and painful step. I took off the chain and I took off my ring.

My green ring and my red ring lie in my jewelry box for my granddaughters. The engagement set burned up. Our wedding rings are on a chain in a small, insignificant looking box on my dresser. One day someone I know will be truly in love and in need of a set of rings and I will gift them ours because they will carry the love forward. On my left hand, at the base of the ring finger is the groove worn from my wedding ring, still, I don't need to wear it to remember.

But the diamond the best friend I ever had gave me for his love of me is still on my hand. The vows may have been kept and passed away in time behind me, but the love he gave me with that gift will never cease between us. When I join him I will leave that love sign behind me with all the rest of the "things" I have loved so someone else can feel special one day. Until then it is my own small comfort in a world without him.

If it was a cigar band I would wear it proudly still because of the love it represented. You can't measure love by the cost of the ring. You can't measure the love by the size of the wedding. It is measured by the biscuts and gravy you make him from scratch and the flower on the table he picked you, by the smile in your eyes when you see each other in a crowded room and by the trust you know you will never be betrayed in anyway.

It's not in the rings, it's in your hearts and souls. May you all find it if you don't have it and if you have it, don't forget how rare it is.

It's Been So Long, Darlin

On the road again

I didn't have to wait to get on the road again.

I was at work Friday, minding my own business, when the #1Son called and asked me what I was doing after lunch. I said working and he said, "Are you sure?" He was on his way through Thinks it's a big City heading east and then back the same way. I got invited to ride in the big truck with him! That's right, if I haven't mentioned it, my son the truck driver. This is his almost third year of being a driver and he is not hating his job. That makes us both happy.

What has always made me smile about that is I used to be a hitchhiker with a portable CB and only rode with truckers. They always got me where I was going and only three times was I a little worried about my driver and I having trouble. All the rest of them and I had great good fun going down the highway together.

I asked the boss and he cut me loose so I finished the days shipping and booked out of there! I haven't ridden in a big truck in 22 years or so and I knew I would like this driver so it would be fun. I pulled out of the off ramp right behind his truck and followed him to the local truck stop. I parked my little truck out of the way and walked over to meet him.

We took time to do the usual "do that before you leave" stuff and checked our beverage supplies before we pulled out. I loved it that his truck had steps for old ladies to use. It made climbing in much easier. No air ride seat for me but the whole rig was on air suspension so it wasn't too bad.

We played music, sang, listened to the CB for a very short while, talked and visited all the way to his pick up spot. On the way back we stopped at a real truck stop for dinner, my treat, and had a nice time there, too. I remembered why big trucks are good and bad and I noticed that I don't think I will be running off in one anytime soon.

The great thing about riding in a big truck is you can see for EVER in front of you over and beyond everything except another truck. It's a real rush to be that far up with that much view to enjoy. For the drivers these new fangled trucks have most of the comforts of home right at hand, too. Little refridgerators, laptops, coffee makers and more are available to pass the time or make life easier. Add the cell phone and staying in touch is easier as is calling for help if you break down or need help.

The bad part about riding in big trucks is getting in and out, it's a long way down, loading and unloading all the stuff you carry with you, and the idiots on the road that think you can stop as quickly as they do. We didn't run into to many moron drivers Friday so it was mostly all good.

I really enjoyed the time I got to spend catching up with the #1son and I learned he is an impressive whistler! My grampa whistled, my dad would whistle when things were going his way and so did the mate. It always made the world feel right to me when the mate was whistling because when I was little that meant Dad was having a good day. As his partner I knew it meant the same for him and that made me feel good, too. Having the son whistling as we drove down the road gave me that same "all is well" feeling. But he is GOOD! Can't wait to introduce him to some of the famous whistlers of the past! It was a wonderful way to spend an afternoon!

I got home about six that night and got around to go hear a new band that an accquaintence of mine is in. Found out one of the kids my daughter used to play with at church was the drummer! ARG! The band was ok, the singer was good and I enjoyed listening to them. My pal sat with me during breaks and that was fun. He is an interesting story teller.

Ran into a friend that had helped out another of my friends recently and he and I talked after closing. I talked, I should say. He let me spew and I tried to explain where my poor head is at. Like the letters I email to one of my very tolerant friends, it gave me a chance to see just how self centered and pitiful I get sometimes. He did help me in that he had lost a friend recently and did know how it messed up your head to deal with the world without your best friend. He could listen and I told him that sometimes just having someone male to talk to was something I missed. Like every night when I come home. Or when I was making decisions on the house an such to not be able to get a second opinion messes me up. He talked about his friend, too. I knew them both, but not well, in school. We wound up and went home when the bartenders left.

Saturday I slept in and when I got up I decided to get some loose ends tied up on the machine. I processed some photos for one site and I finished the website for my friend, 2Tall. You can take a peek at the lovely wood inlay work he does at: http://characterwoods.com/ . I am hoping for a lovely box of boxes to come to me soon.

The nephew, Cboy2, along with Cshe, his wife and Chim, the NIL, came over to go for a ride. I got around and got the bike out. She started hard and I know I have to get a tune up on her soon. We scooted around some of the curvy roads and ran into the CD's (chapter directors) from our local GW chapter. We stopped so I could visit with them a moment or two. Our ride went past a local speedway and then continued over more curves until we were back where the kids could scoot home on their own. I went to the fair again for dinner and to see if I could find the long lost best friend of the mate. I know the family is always here for the parade so I had skipped that but I had hoped to find them coming over. Since they hadn't I went looking but we didn't cross paths.

I headed home and called it a night. I got a call from the daughter of an old friend. I knew that was bad news. I will talk about my friend another time, not now. So there I sat on a Saturday night. I thought about going out to see the band again, they were good enough for twice but decided against it. I was just too bumming. I just got around and went to bed. And got up. And went back to bed. I slept in on Sunday. That was nice. Sleeping is good.

It's kind of been all down hill from there. I slid into dark places and missing the mate again. I called 2tall and told him the site was up. He talked to me for awhile. It cheered me up enough that I got to bed with the coffee on and the alarm set.

But I realized Friday that tomorrow is going to be 6 months since the mate died. Half a year apart. I had promised me that I would not make any major decisions for six months. Now it's here. Now I can think about moving, not moving, getting a new job, staying in the old job, going to Tennessee or staying put. Selling more things or buying new ones or none at all.

It's my life now. I have to figure out how to live it. Continuing on the way we always did is an option but so is anything else I want to try. Sort of, maybe. I still have the animals to deal with and that makes it look like staying put for another year or so until my oldest two join the mate.

It's my life now, but I want the old one back still. Everyday. Every night at bedtime. It's just too lonely here. So I keep searching for new friends but I know it's the old one I'm craving. Life is going on and I'm in it most days but this week is looking to be really hard to deal with.

I bought an expensive ticket to see a show at the Fair on Wednesday as a sort of bribe for myself to get through Tuesday. I hate to waste money. I don't like being so blue, still, either. The show will at least get my mind on other things and give me something to plan for - like take the umbrella, it's supposed to rain, of course. Maybe it will blow old Hank Jr. right into my lap!

Saturday in the park

I was hyped for the Fair on Friday. I was going to enjoy good food, good music and people watching.

It was more like watching Mary Martin play Peter Pan as an adult. The strings show on everything. It was something like looking at a puzzle you loved putting together with pieces missing all through it this time.

The big taffy making machine was gone for the second year. Grama always bought me taffy there and I have bought it for myself or the mate would buy it for me every year until last year. The crystal jewelry was missing. The leather guy was back. The rides didn't have just ONE where all the teens hung out into the late hours. I don't know what they were doing for fun this year. I never saw anyone I knew. The gyro man was cranky and tired but his gyro was still the best. There were no good french fry huts, only standard fare. The Merchants Building was empty. No vibrating cushions or chairs to try out, no organ or piano displays. The hypnotist was interesting, the crowd was cold, the music was too young. I won a prize worth 8 tokens at the pushers. I now own a steel flask. I did see the nephew working his game. I didn't have anyone to play with. I got a blister on one toe. I went home.

I tried again on Saturday to look for some friends I thought would be there. I was thinkin it was fluke - but it was the same only worse because I'd seen it all. I did run into one friend that always works the fair and one girl I know from GW and my Aunt and Uncle with their kids. Didn't help. They all wandered off and that leaves me alone again. I am realizing I am pretty lousy at this alone crap. I like my privacy from the world and I like my privacy from the neighbors but I miss sharing all the fun with a friend.

I think that unless someone asks me to go I am done with the fair except for my concert Wednesday night. I think I won't ever go again alone to the fair.

But tomorrow may rain so

I'll follow the sun but I'll go to the fair tonight with my umbrella in hand. It's maybe not devine intervention but it IS payday and I have to leave early to get to the bank today and it's the first day of the fair and my gyro will be there. I wrote the bills, did the math and figure I can have what is in my pockets for the fair. Now all I have to decide is if Bocepheus is worth (for crying out loud!) the 35.00 for the reserved seats or if I need to own another 45.00 candy bowl won on the pushers. Those big clown feet pushing those faux coins, coins clinking as they drop, shiny tokens beckoning, glittery prizes drifting in the breeze....or watching a real pro entertain a crowd with his music? The funny thing is I do all the math AFTER subtracting two gyros, one tonight and one later. LOL!

The B1son was home yesterday afternoon. I don't know how I would have gotten through all this mess without his kind and willing help. He mowed the lawn, cleaned up after the installs in the basement, feed and watered the animals and, when I got home, we made and ate cold sandwiches again. I know we are both getting tired of them but it's just too hot to cook. I did boil us some corn on the cob, I love the farm fresh stuff we can get here. It went quickly and is gone now but left memories of my big Grama shucking corn while Grampa got the home made brick grill to light and the scent of roasting ears over chicken grilling making my mouth water.

Comfort food. Vanilla ice cream and Vernors when we were sick from our little Grama, chicken soup from the big Grama and all the other foods that were "treats" to let us know someone was thinking of us. For me, if there is ice cream in the freezer I am financially well off. No ice cream means I am almost broke. If there is milk I am ok, no milk means I have hit bottom. For my sis, it's candy bars for breakfast. One of my friends is a fancy coffee addict. For her, if she has to buy "store brand, pre-ground" life is bad.

The Fair is full of comfort food, taffy from the big machine you can watch make it, Elephant ears with fruit or cinnamon sugar, my gyro, someone else's big, home made polish sausages, fried potatoes with cheese, or vinegar or gravy and in 10 different shapes and sizes, Cotton candy and hand squeezed lemonade are all adding to the temptation to over indulge as you walk the midway. Then in the 4-H building are all the cakes, pies, jams, jellies and cookies on display for the judges to sample. No wonder America is getting heavier all the time!

I don't know who I will see or how long I will stay tonight but I am off to the fair with a pocket full of change, a hat, an umbrella and my memories.

The big Grama took me to the fair every year since I was big enough to fit in a stroller, the little Grama saved her pennies all year and rolled them to divide between five of us for fair money.

My dad busted me and my BGF dancing to "Pretty Woman" on the entrance to the roller coaster with the guys running it one year. They were cute! Mine had dark, curly hair and was well muscled, too. I think we were 13. I KNOW we went home early! Ow! It might have been the bell bottom hip huggers or maybe it was the halter tops with the fuzzy balls for fringe that got him all riled up and made him haul us off to the car, hollering all the way.

The mate always forced himself to take me once a year and buy me a fair pretty. Earrings, dragons, hats, and my salt water taffy to take home were all good gifts. I have them all still, except the taffy. We would wander around, holding hands and walking close to each other, whispering about the people we saw and then we would end up on the pushers and play a while. We always had fair food. He liked elephant ears. He learned to like my gyros, too. I just liked being at the fair with my boyfriend. He even won me prizes some years.

I worked the Fair one year and met a lot of nice carnies. I could do that. My son worked it one year and it helped him get enough money for a car. My nephews are working it this year. I loved running a game and chatting with the people going by.

Once I was down there alone and ran into a friend from high school. He and I hit the rides and talked and laughed and had fun like we hadn't in years. That was a great evening.

The fair brings us all together again, the talent shows and 4-H get us out and showing off for each other. But mostly I think it caters to the child in each of us that wants to ride a camel, eat forever on junk food, stay up past our bedtime, and play with our friends all day. So I'll be at the fair on and off the next ten days or until the money runs out. See ya there!

Listen to the rythym of the falling rain

More like the super percussion of the raging down pour last night. All the trees are still up and, thanks to the fence, all the downed items are still in the yard, even the shade awning. We really got the old 'rinse and a blow dry'. And at that, we only caught the edge of the worst of it. North of us really took a beating.

The furnace is all the way in, the stove hooked to the new propane tank and they both work. That's the good news. The bad news is that the water cooler is now a steam engine, just like the other one was. This morning I had hot water and got all excited, but it got hotter and hotter - it's supposed to be set at 125 degrees, I want 130 but the indicators on the thermostats are hard to read so we went for the easy mark. I know it will be off when I get home.

Rust Rider and Rebel called to try for some helpful hints this a.m., thanks!!!! They haven't worked with these new fangled double element heaters though. I need a real water heater guy, I guess. Bro2 really has done wonders and did figure out why it was a water cooler, a stuck reset button being unstuck fixed that. Now I just don't know what to try next except to dig down in my sock and pay a fixer.

The fun really was over with the gutters. Now, almost six months later, I get a bill from the EMS Ambulance service. If I had know what they charged to haul him to the hospital morgue I would have tossed him in the white truck! But they came when called and in other circumstances might have done some good. I will pay it, but GEEZE! It seems like a lot for them to tell me what I already knew and take away the body.

I am just a little cranky and ticked off today. But B1son and B2soldier landed jobs setting up today at the Ionia Free Fair and that will help them both out until they get into the service. Jobs in Michigan are more rare than gold nuggets. It means the storm mess is still waiting for me to get home and that I have to get the gutter mounts tonight before bible study.

I have to take right off for town and beat feet for the house or blow it off another night and just do reassembly on the yard furniture and such. Ya, I think I will do that. Brackets tomorrow.

So catch me later, if you can keep up!

Another Pleasant Valley Sunday

Weekends, you look forward to them from the minute you get to work on Monday, leaving the last one in the dust behind you. They are supposed to be family time, party time, yard and house work time or just time to relax. Sometimes they are all a weekend should be and sometimes they are more work than going to work.

I managed to do the work and the fun this weekend, mostly by proxy. The B1son, Bro2 and his wife, Bher, along with Cboy1, Cher and their boy, the nephew's family that got the freezer, all were in and out trying to get gutters hung and the water heater replaced. I mostly just tried to keep them fed and watered and iced off enough in the heat that we didn't lose anyone.

Cboy2 just showed up, I think at his brother's request and helped out both days. Between the three of them they got the gutters up there except for one side where we ran out of parts to hang them with.

Bro2 installed the new water heater, some door locks for the bedroom (for gun safety with little ones running around) and a new dead bolt on the inside back door. The old, hardwood door has two windows in it, why I put a dead bolt on it is a mystery. I guess I think it will slow down any serious intruders while the dogs come running and I manage to wake up.

Things went along pretty well but the water heater appears to be a water cooler and I am not sure what to do about that yet. The furkin thing is brand new and won't heat water. I am going to stop where I bought it and see what they suggest.

After slaving in the heat most of the day, I took the B1son swimming. We have been jogging him and bicycling me every evening for a week but you have to wait till almost dark for it to be cool enough.

Today the furnace man and fuel oil/propane guys are switching out tanks. I am running home now to cover it all.

Have a great day where ever you are!

I can make you feel special

Ok, I have another thought. Each of the people that has been put in my path in life with that little extra "oomph" that a directed thought/urge/voice gives me to aid them has to be special and important to the future in general or someone else's future specifically, maybe mine.

They had to be showed that they were special in a way they could understand. Maybe that is why I have gotten to be the "strange kind of angel" that I am to these people along the way.

How can you have just what you need show up exactly when you need it and not feel like someone is watching out for you? How can you tell your Mom a woman with a pair of sissors showed up on the side of the road and cut you free without her thinking that is a little more than coincidence and you must have extra protection because you are very special?

And that applies to me. I can't tell you how many times people have showed up with just what I needed in the nick of time in my life and bailed me out. Is there even one of you that does not have a story about someone giving you a hand when you needed it? Probably not. It happens all the time in life. The first one I remember is the heavy load of groceries I was hauling with an eight pack of sodas, the footsteps behind me in the near dark of the evening scaring me to death and the boy offering to help me carry it all home, not mugging me or taking my money like I was afraid of having happen.

I know where he lived. It was not far from us but he was not headed there when he met me. He was not at the store when I was there so he must have been walking to town for something. Why? Third base, again. But I needed a hand because if I dropped the pop bottles we had no money for more and I would have been in deep crap with the other kids. I was too young to think of leaving one thing behind and going back for it later or of calling the house to send a sis to help me out. He is the first "strange kind of angel" I can recall in my life.

That means I was going to be special to the future in general or to someone in the future. I might have dropped the bottles, cut myself on the glass and bled to death before someone found me or I could run for help....ok, that is a little extreme, but you get the point. Maybe I would have been so worried about the load I was juggling that I walked in front of a car. Who knows? He at least saved me from a bad night of everyone being mad at me. And I learned not to fear the footsteps in the dark. I paid attention to them still but they never scared me like that again.

So that means I'm special! My people I have fished out of rivers, yanked back from walking in front of cars, given rides to, helped with in other ways at odd times are all special, too. Maybe the boy on the bicycle grew up to be the dad to the next president. Heck if I know! Maybe a farmer with a big attachment on his tractor would have crested that hill and killed the kid if he didn't get out of there. That one isn't even far fetched on that road.

But the way I see it I am thinking more and more that there is some grand plan. Sure, I have free will. I can decide to go get smashed at a friend's place. But I have the kind of heart that can't leave an old guy walking in the heat if I can help by giving him a ride, too. Are they put there to see how we will react and what we will do for them? Are we put there so they can see that someone still cares about them? "As you do unto the least of these" it says in the book.

I can't see anything special about me, the boy, the City boy or the kid in the river. But that there must be something special or important about all of us can be inferred from the extra help we have received in our lives at least once and myself, more than once.

Is it all just coincidence? (A sequence of events that although accidental seems to have been planned or arranged. ) Or is it Synchronicity ?

It all goes back to why are we here, and my more recent whine, why am I STILL here? Maybe one of the people I have helped will be the one who's great grand child goes off to terra form the first new planet we find and gets us all out of here just before the sun goes nova. Maybe the river kid will grow up to establish a line of swimming pools and classes for poor kids. Who knows? Not me.

But I know I am special and I believe each of us is important to the future. We have to take care of each other like every other human is important and special. Even the ones we see as "bad" humans teach us things about love and life that we can't learn without experiencing the hurts in life. It's not fun but it is nessesary to be a strong person.

I can be just the way I am and be loved. I can be just myself and accomplish good in the world. I don't have to be graceful, rich or have magical powers. I just have to do what I think is right and be the best "Old lady that smokes, drinks sometimes, rides a motorcycle, gets mad and runs off trouble makers, takes in strays, has big dogs, likes to fish, sings and writes songs and loves her people" that I can be and I will be a strange kind of angel for someone again. Someone Special.

I'd like to teach the world to sing

in acceptable harmony. It all seems to be working together for something. Sometimes it feels like being the guy in the band with the triangle. You have to follow the whole score, through pages and pages just to make one little "TING!" in the perfect place.

The Mom, Sis and I had Bible Study Tuesday. The interesting discussion of the night was "How far back in history we would have to go to change something that would affect where we are and who we are now?"

This lead us to sub-questions; "If we did change something would it change where we are or would circumstances have changed to keep us heading where we were needed? Would we be better or worse off or the same?"

It was not really the "What If" game, it was contemplating how all the good and bad experiences we went through worked to bring us to where we are now and shaped us to be the women we are today. It also covered timing, like meeting the City Boy.

To meet the City Boy I had to be in a town I usually just fly past, stopped at a place I don't normally go, even to eat, and I had about a 45 minute window to hit. To get me there I had to have the job I have had eight, going on nine years, do something I don't do anymore and be friends enough with the customer so I was moved to do the delivery, that I don't do anymore.....

To do what I did the mate had to be gone. I had to have the means to supply the perceived needs and the willingness to do it. Can't loan out a car if the mate is using it...

To get the job I have when I did meant becoming unhappy with a job I enjoyed and had worked at for eight years with people I liked.

To have either job that long I needed to be settled. I had to have the mate to settle me. I had not lived in one place more than 3 or 4 months in many years before I met him.

If you are getting all that, I have to go back at least twenty years and not meet the mate to miss this date with the City Boy. Maybe further. I had to be available for him, too. That gets the second divorce covered as a needed event...

Even if you limit it to the day it happened I have to have gone to work, had a running vehicle that would take the parts easily and be inclined to make the run to drop them off.

If I had stayed home from work what would have happened? Would my friend in the town have needed something? Would I have decided to go visit the #1son and stopped for a burger where I never eat normally? Would the City Boy have met someone else or no one at all? Would my life be better or worse off without the new friend? Would his be the same, better or worse if he hadn't met me? Only he will know the answer to that.

What about the day I was headed north with every intention of getting drunk at a friend's house but I picked up the guy walking and took him home? Was that to save me from the hang over or was the whole urge to go north just to get the guy a ride?

You could go nuts and never move out of your chair again if you go too deeply into this but it gives things a different twist. It adds the perspective of YEARS into the equation of everything we do. How each event and person shapes us and works to shape our future actions.

If the house had not burned down and we had not experienced the kindness of strangers would I have been so quick to help a stranger? Maybe, I was that kind of person from my early years, but maybe not - the mate liked me to leave strangers alone, it made him worry about me.

Ok, now hang on. Is that also why bad things happen to good people? They need the experience 12 years down the road? Do they need a nudge to change jobs to be in the right place later? To do unto others means being able to understand where they are at in their lives, their heart and their head and do just what is right to get them back on track. Not too much and not too little. To have that kind of understanding takes experience and empathy. You don't get that with a "golden charmed" life.

Yes we had an interesting Tuesday discussion. Have fun thinking about it. Try not to get a headache from the twists and turns it takes. But try it. Think of the last good deed you did. How far back in your life would you have to go to not be there to do it or to not care if you did it?

Will the circle be unbroken?

Reunions. A few weeks ago the Bison was talking to me about a lost (step, then adopted, and then un-adopted) brother he had been thinking about. The boys were almost the same age and were raised as brothers for several years then separated when the parents divorced. They were a wild little pair and fun to watch. He was wishing to see him again. I said I would see what I could do. With a little help from that place that registers school members for free I found him.

I think it rushed him out a little. I was an Aunt to him for only a few years and we didn't see a lot of them as they lived north quite aways from us. When I dropped him a note with the contact info for his brother he wrote back and told me he was headed this way in a few weeks and would be in touch.

They have had a couple meetings now and are still getting caught up with each other. Last night the Lost Boy and his new girl came over to see me and the Bison. If I shaved them both and put them in blue jeans with striped shirts you wouldn't know they ever grew up! They both have their same faces and builds with only some size variations to show the years.

I left work early yesterday, I really didn't feel well. I was tired and achy with an upset stomach. I still needed guttering and the cash was going fast so I made myself go to town and get it. It took about an hour to go through the list and get it all. My very nice young man that helped me out with it stuck with me right through getting it loaded on the truck.

I got home and we started the garage swap. I wanted my bike on the nice, new cement that was level with the driveway now. That meant clearing away the pile we had made making room to work on the floor and getting the mower turned around. I wanted the mower and the bike to be able to get in and out easily.

We were getting hot and dusty, the truck was full of guttering, the Lost Boy and the furnace man were coming and I wanted a shower. I left the nephew with instructions and went to sluice off. LB and his girl got there just as I was buttoning my shirt and the furnace man got there right on top of him. I came out to see the new furnace almost to the bottom of the stairs.

I greeted the Lost Boy and his friend, called down to see what was needed and found out that there was water in the basement. WELL DUH! The guys had pulled the sump pump to finish around the drain area. It rained very heavily the night before. I asked Bison if he could put the sump back but it was the Lost Boy who said he just put one in for his dad last week. I sent him off with a screwdriver to reseat the pump while Bison and the furnace guy placed the new heater on the beautiful new floor.

Then the guys worked in the garage, the girl petted His Highness, King of Cats and I went in to put the beans on and spice them up. We were having burritos. She didn't eat any meat but chicken so I grabbed two frozen breasts, a covered casserole dish and tossed them in the nuke. The B1son had made the meat and cut up the lettuce and tomato earlier, bless him, so I only had to get everything out and grab the salsa to be ready. When I went out to call them the garage almost looked like a real garage again! Wow!

I went back inside to grab the keys and move the bike to it's new and improved parking space. No more "heave ho, me hearties" to get it over the two by fours! Hooray! I told the boy he done good and we went back in to feed our guests. The girl was cubing her chicken breasts and Lost Boy was getting a beverage. We got our plates loaded and sat at the table to eat.

It was a lot of fun listening to them still getting caught up with each other. I didn't say much except to egg them on with their memories. We looked at photos of the first bike they learned to ride, which was the one the mate and I taught our kids on and that the First Girl taught her boys on and B2 taught his kids on and that is now at my sister's place so Cgirl can learn this year. It's had some parts changed and the engine rebuilt once or twice but it's the same bike for going on three generations. For those of you that might care, it is a 125 Honda, probably an early 70's model. It works just like any "real" motorcycle but it's much lighter and smaller. It can also be street legal and ridden on the highways. It's a perfect learning bike.

B1son and B2boy (Lost Boy's right nick) were telling horror stories of racing it and the other one their dad, Bro1, picked up for them. They had 20 acres and a lot of it was field converted to track for racing what ever was the current vehicle of choice. Then it was the bikes, later it was quads and now it is RC Trucks.

B1son, quietly and without being asked, cleaned up dinner while we continued to chat. I was proud of him, his Uncle would have done the same. Then I got to thinking. His uncle would have done the same as I used to do before all the health troubles. I am getting better all the time. I need to be getting back to that - showing I care with my actions, not just words or money. Showing you care lasts longer than words and longer than money and it teaches others how to show they care so it goes on to the next generation. I better get back to it. Yup!

We all went up and shot some pool after dinner. B2boy shoots a good stick, B1son is working on it. The girl watched but was a little bored I think. When she ran down for a trip to the loo and B1son went to show her the way and get me a fresh lemonade B2boy let me know that he was pretty serious about this one and asked my opinion. I told him it was too soon to tell but that when a girl showed up when you were unemployed (he just moved back here from the East Coast), broke and your car didn't run it could only be two things, hot sex or true love. He blushed nicely and said he had sent for the ring he wanted to give if it worked out already. I guess it's love! LOL!

When we finally broke up the party and sent them on their way it was midnight. I guess they made it home ok. It was their first trip here and I thought they might get lost.

The furnace is in the basement, the new water heater is in the garage and the sump works with the new floor. It's coming together.

B1son has his brother back and they both thanked me for getting them in touch. I have yet another nephew to be a help and a joy to me.

Divorce is so hard on the kids. These boys have both built up a lot of anger issues. Their idea of fun is underground Fight Club nights. Guys get together in a remote location and "box" or bare knuckle until first blood or a knock out. Girls their age are cutting themselves and bleeding out their pain.

I hope the gen we raised has the sense to make marriage a contract to stay together until the kids are grown with a re-up clause after 19 years instead of this quitting in the middle on the kids, like my gen did to ours.

We didn't understand, at our too young ages, how badly it hurts the little ones when they lose a parent or get a new and not a better one, sometimes as many as three or four times. We just bopped on down the road, looking for what we needed and not considering fully enough what our children needed. It left them sad and hurt and afraid to love or angry with no where to unleash that anger except against themselves. It bothers me still. I can't change the past but I can help the new gen work on their future. One complete family at a time I can try to help them keep loving each other and their children. I just have to keep on telling them why it's important.

These are good kids and they are both looking to the service. I don't want them to come home in a box but I don't want them afraid to serve their country because they might. I want them to consider what they are joining up for and decide to do it because it is right for them. We are still working on that. I have promised to back them up and be there for them if they go.

I guess that means I have commitments to people in the future. I think that means I am looking more ahead than behind. I still turn and reach for the mate every day in the night, for his counsel, his comfort and his love, but I am going forward on my own, taking care of the kids, like we promised each other we would. "Take care of the kids and the pets and never forget I love you. Find someone to care about you again, don't hurt alone. I want you to be happy." We had those words between us. I hold tight to them on the bad days.

I love our kids and their kids and the other kids in the families, like the two nephews that I thought I was doing a favor by getting them back together, but they fixed the garage and the sump last night for me. I think they love me back. So the mate's love for me goes on another gen. His pride in his abilities and his pride in his service to the country he grew up in is already passed on through B2jewel and again through B1son and B1boy if they make it through their training. His love still shows through me if I remember to show it, not just say it.

I wanna go home

Well I didn't spend the night in De troit city but I am having a bad case of the "Let me OUTA here"'s. I just want to go take a nap.

Yesterday I got on the phone with the furnace guy and the fuel oil people. The furnace install starts tonight, ends on Monday and the full job with the fuel oil tank and small propane leaving and the big propane tank being installed will be done Monday afternoon.

The wonderful furnace guy is going to install the water heater for me, too. I will ask my Bro in Law to help remove the old one soon. I was going to get the guttering today but I think I will do it tomorrow so I don't chance being late, I still have to drop off some stuff at goodwill and pick up some things in town though and I hate making an extra trip...Hmmm.. Guess we will see how it works out, how bad traffic is and if I can get the list I need for the gutters.

The Bison had the house nice for Bible Study last night. It was a treat to come home to a tidy house again. I have been moving stuff into and out of my bedroom and the place is getting down right scary tidy, really.

I moved my electric guitar and amp from the living room to the bedroom to take the place of the dresser that went upstairs. I think the file cabinets are next, after I get rid of the extra dresser set. The old, steel tea cart will go in the dining room to hold the phone and reference books and my binoculars. Once I dismantle my desk then the dry sink joins the dining room crew with pretty dishes on it and condiments on a tray for ease of table setting. Then I will thin out the pots and pans again, move the baking stuff and get the little white cabinet set up in the kitchen.

At that point I will thin the attic and upstairs again and should have most of it out of here before winter. I will start looking for different furniture for the living room and commence carpet replacement and painting the kitchen and such. That will be the shoestring project.

I never spend money on furniture if I can help it. We are just too rough on the poorly made crap they sell now to invest in it. I get used from the junk stores or from family and friends that are upgrading. It's fine by me if it's not new, I don't have to break it in and I don't feel badly when it gets scratched or torn, I just toss a throw over it.

The goal is comfort, not class. I want to be comfortable when I sit down after a day at work. I wish someone in the furniture industry would realize there are more older people around now and that we can't crawl up from floor cushions like we did in our youth. I want chairs and couches that support me well enough that getting up with a bad hip is easy. That means they need to be taller with firmer cushions. I have been watching for a love seat with the long wooden carved legs like great grama used to have. That would be a goodness.

I am really tired again today, rainy days do that to me. I think I will skip town and just go home tonight. Must be I need some sleep while it's cooler out.

Later all!

Where ever I wander where ever I roam

I'll always have this place I call home. (butchered again!)

Sunday the nephew and I worked in the yard and I did some laundry and cleaned the house because I had the cousins coming to do my basement floor on Monday. Bless them, they said they would do it for me to help me out because I was "family", but I made them take part of the cash I had back for it for gas, they are a long way north. It did not begin to cover their costs and I love them for helping me out. The floor is twice as nice as it would have been and the extra material we had they used to fixed the garage with. While I am a fairly independant spirit having a man or men help me over the things I can not do well alone is so appreciated and these men did a fine job. I was so impressed by the way they work together.

I called in early Monday and got the day off, thanks boss! I thawed meat to feed them and the Mom saved me even that investment because she brought pizza down later. The kindness they showed me paid off in that the nephew was pricing for his new home and they have the contract! Now I like that, doing a good deed and getting a bonus right up front for it! That made me really happy. And the nephew saved money, too.

The Boss Man got there about nine and we measured and priced and he made calls for materials. Then we had time to kill. The nephew showed up with his prints and The Boss put in a written estimate for him while we sipped some more coffee down. We loaded up and went to inspect the site and visit the sis. I like the new place but it needs more trees on the west. We hit the sister's and showed off her cabin for her as well as the baby mini horses and yorkies. Time was just about up when the nephew came out to tell The Boss that the other contractor had called to put a correction on his bid that raised it quite a chunk and that meant they would be scheduling with him! Fun and happy time!

We got back to the house to find the other two family men there already working. The Boss joined Fearless Leader and Boss Junior in assembling what was needed. Then I parked them under the trees and Bison brought out iced tea for them. We joked and relaxed until the cement mixer got there, OMG! right on time! They jumped right back to work.

This team was awesome! They have worked together, that was obvious, but they are three generations of men who know HOW to work. I rarely get to see others that work like we were raised to do it, form ranks, cut the chatter and get that wood split and stacked, or whatever the chore was. These guys were smooth! Clean up and reload the trucks later went just as well with everyone double checking everyone else to make sure they got it all.

The nephew helped them by guiding the chute and rinsing tools, Mom and I took turns watching them in respectful silence as they took globs of heavy goop and turned it into beautifully sloped and shaped basement floor for my home and running tea when they needed it.

While they waited for the stuff to set right they ate pizza's and we all talked over old times with Boss Jr. hearing some of the stories for the first time.

I don't regret a single trip I have made north this summer to get reaccquainted with this bunch. It has been healing for me and, I hope, for them, too. But most of all it has been FUN! They work hard and play hard and sleep hard and I felt like I was not so alone anymore. I had still more family to help me and to help out when they need it.

When they left, they still had a long drive home but I fell asleep in my computer chair! I got tired just keeping up with them. I did get a turn to try my hand at raking but I am a big wuss and the stuff is heavy.

Today I went over the bills and the cash and did the math. I put back what I need for the gutters. I have what I need for the rest of the furnace. I am just a tad short on the yard tractor but that money is coming later from another source and I have helped several people out with the rest of it. Life has been good but the number in the money book says the party is over. I have to go back to the budget now, for 90 days and see how it shakes down.

The bike and trucks are paid off and the magic plastic card will be cut more than in half today with the rest zeroed when the bonus money comes in. That was the good news.

There is no buffer, no money to share with the kids and there is no vacation fund, (bummer 2 Tall!). I won't be getting a new amp anytime soon. It's time to get back to reality. I will have to dicker the paint and carpet out as I go to do the inside of the house. I will have to cut the entertainment to more local stuff and I better stop buying bushes for the fence...lol!

But the yard is fenced, the dog is finally contained, it is looking beautiful and I almost have all the flowers where I want them, the basic functions of the house will be working right and more cheaply, I will still have enough to keep a stray human or two around for awhile and I think it's going to work out that I don't have to sell the place unless I choose to.

The mate left me way better off than when he found me, even if I don't have those hundreds of thousands I might have had with a good term life policy. I can take care of me and still help others a little bit. I am sheltered and safe with the means to keep it that way and shelter others. I am still too lonely but, if I can just wait and watch, I will find a friend to help with that, too. I know. There is still love to share and have shared with me somewhere.

So to all of the loving friends and family out there that have helped me through this - it looks like by the end of next week, if the gutters get hung, that I will be set for winter. I could not have done it without you. The words are small but the love behind them is big.

Thank you. I love you all.

If I get drunk and sing all night long

it's a family tradition. Yup. Only usually I sing sober. I don't drink and drive. Usually. And I wasn't drunk, just happy. And I ate lots of food and I had coffee in the car. But it was a Party!

Friday night disappeared in a fog of sleep. I came home about six, got the email and went to bed. I slept until ten of the clock! Some nap! When I got up I felt that heavy, groggy feeling you get with too much or not enough sleep so I checked online again and then went back to bed. It wasn't any easier getting up early to leave by nine thirty from the sister's place, nine of the a-m here. Ick! But this was the cousins I have been wanting to pow wow with and so I dragged my butt out, showered, dressed, packed the food and the guitar and got rolling down the road.

The day was lovely but hot. The mom met us almost on time and the sis and her mate were ready to roll. They lead most of the way up and I jumped in front for the detail up close. I had been there before. We had a little tire trouble. Seems the sis's car had had the tires rotated but they got loose confused with tight. Once the BIL snugged his bolts back down we were good.

I took them to the closest cousin's home because Mom hadn't seen her in years and I knew they would love some one on one time before the crowds. We hung out and watched the CIL hanging siding. I was paying attention because I have some that needs replaced or something. From the hugs and stories there we continued to the park with photos and people I hadn't seen in 14 years or better. The crowd grew and I knew very few of who was whom's because I just haven't seen them in so long. The Aunt that held these shindig's passed on a few years ago and the last one I got up to was at her place when #1son was 16 or so.

It was good to get caught up with everyone and the old photos had memories for us in them. Those that have gone before, that used to host the parties and gathering, those we have loved and been loved by and those that we miss so badly were all in the pictures and still in out hearts.
You can't pick your family but you can learn to love them the way they are. And if you can't love yours or you lose them you may be able to find another family to love and be loved by. But I have a great family and I know the importance of family in your life. Mine, on both parents sides, cover the range from preachers to snake oil salesmen (A great great uncle!) to out right screw ups or saints and all the possibilities in between. What they all have is heart. Not the kind that gets your blood going around, the kind that cares about others. Other people's kids, other owner's pets, others in need, and each other.

The stories are not mine to tell but I know that if I am really all the way at the bottom, and I can find them to ask for their help, they won't leave me in the cold. Even after 13 years or 20 years of little contact, the connections we had as children together or as young adults together are still solidly hooked into our hearts. My extended family are not even close to perfect. We cover all the bases for vices and bad habits, it just is how people are. Having a bad habit does not make you a bad person. I don't think there is a genuinely mean one in the bunch.

There is in fighting and people that agree to disagree now might have fought it to the death ten years before. Some aren't currently getting along with one or the other. It all works out eventually. But we all know we are the people we are today because of the things that were so hard in our earlier lives and that we got through them because of the family that helped us. We value our people, life, and happiness. I don't think any of us is rich, some of us have more than others, but we don't count the cash, just the love we share.

Saturday there was drinking and singing and story telling and basketball, baseball, volleyball and frisbee. There was another guitar guy there and the sis and I got some lovely harmonies working with him! A couple youngers got loose of the olders and had to be hunted out of the woods, the new driver had to be parked at Mom point, short people had to be watched, all the usual stuff a large group of many ages is going to have to deal with and it was all just living large.

And the food, of course, was in over abundance and beautifully prepared to boot. I love it when there are more desserts than main dishes! It was too hot, not enough shade, nice breeze, lots of talk time and too far to drive, too long to wait for the last one to get there and then over too soon. The day needs more hours for sharing in it.

The core group I went especially to see were mostly there, we lacked two of theirs and two of ours of making a full circle. It's ok. We had a chance to really commune and comfort and love each other on a beautiful day. God bless them all and may we do it again soon.

I found new friends in people I remembered as children and saw their children making connections that would bring them together in 20 years to look at photos from this day and remember those of us that would then be gone or too feeble to go. The bond of love that has been passed on to them will bring love and comfort to them for years and years after we are all gone and that brought me peace in my heart.

Every one of them means something special to me. And some confusion from the past was cleared away that I hope let them know I cared about them always, I am just not strong enough to take a hurt to the heart and I ran from the pain. I was young then and didn't know how else to handle a pain except to get away from it. They had to stay and deal. I wish I had been strong enough to do that, too. I am ashamed I was not. I think they will forgive me. I believe they do.

We all still have things to face yet; illness, death, disasters, angers, hurts, and whatever else life throws our way; but we can handle it as a team if we just work to keep the bond strong.

My team let me drift home with them in the dark and sit on a truly rural porch with fingers too sore to play another note and tell them of my hurt and confusion. I got to share how lost I feel and how I long for the comfort of a partner even though I have no hope of finding another that is as close a match as my mate. And they knew what I felt. Understood and let me see it a different way that made me feel like maybe I can stay here and maybe I can enjoy life really, not just pretend to have fun to not hurt those around me.

The words were there but the hugs were what said it all. All the hugs that said we care, hang on, it will get better. For all the hard things in life, humans cling together to get through them. I don't cling well but I really needed someone stronger to hold me up - even for just a minute was good - because I was so tired of trying to stand alone.

Family. My family. All of them have been propping me up through their own pain. They are all truely priceless, especially my kids and grands that have been right here for everything I needed of them, the Mom and Sis that come every week to cheer me again. They all have problems and the kids miss the Mate as badly as I do. They are the one's that know I do what I think needs doing the way I think it needs done and understand why I have to. They don't think I am strange and different, they KNOW I am - because they are the same way. LOL!

I am proud to be part of that family, the ones I see all the time and the people I only see rarely. However wild we might get, whatever the neighbors say, no matter what the rest of the world would rank them at, I know they are made of the stuff that is what America was built from - plain old grit. They are tougher than braided four penny nails and tougher than I am and I am no slouch. I was amazed at the strength of this group but I could see it was the folded steel forged in fire love that would never quit. The same kind my sisters and I want our kids to learn about that we learned from our elders and peers.

I can't tell you how proud I was to be included and welcomed there. Salute! to family.

There, I've said it again

You guys have been very quiet during this story. I can't decide why. So tell me! Don't you have a story like this one or the sissors tale?

Don't fence me in!

The fence story continues. I had a load off my mind and was free to go on to other projects once I gave in to the force.

I love the fence but we are still having escapee problems. The black chow/lab has been just rolling under it. The neighbors on the east have been corralling her for me and the neighbors on the south-west corner called to tell me where she gets out, except I knew that already. I don't want my dogs scaring little kids or getting hurt. I do want them to have the whole of the yard to play in. The old white boxer is really loving it but I have to keep that girl dog in it! I had called two weeks running and received no call from Fence Man. This was getting annoying.

On Wednesday, when the boys were all supposed to show up, I called First Girl to see what was going on with them. BigE and she went to the house, I gave them some gas money, just to see if the dogs were staying inside the fence. She mowed the yard and stayed until I got home. The boys seem to have evaporated. The Bison was back that night a little later.

Last time he worked on the basement Bison had discovered the secret entrance to the Bat Cave for me. Under the carpet on the porch was a nice, big door and a set of steps just right for taking furnaces and water heaters in and out. That was going to make life much easier.

Yesterday the fence guy, who still had not called me, sent two kids that the nephew says were ignorant of the goals of fencing. He worked with them to get things pegged in right and tried to double check them. I hope it worked. They left him some parts so we can fill in what they might have missed. I think that is the last I will see of them so here it is.

Belding Fence Company, Belding Michigan. Very personable owner. Very fair pricing. Willing to reuse fence or sell you discounted used fencing. Johnny on the spot for estimate. They were late or a no call/no show for every time scheduled after that. I was not happy about that.

Poor supervision of employees lead to re-posting one boundry and half of another. Rhubarb was damaged, roses were damaged and it was avoidable. The north and south sides could not be pegged down as the fence was too high on the poles. In places the fencing is over the top rail and in others it is under or barely touching it. Upright poles did not have clips on the bottoms, just the top and middle, letting the dog lean on the fence and push it out to roll under. No top caps on several posts. They had cut a hole to leave a bird house alone instead of hooking to the back of the post. When they had to move that piece back eight inches to the property line they just flipped it upside down....hole is now in the bottom where anything could get in or out. They were supposed to weave in a piece.

Biggest gripe is dog getting out, second peeve is lack of contact, lateness when they were supposed to meet me. And the third gripe is that my fence looks like it was built on rolling waves, top line is not even at all. We will attack it some night when the boys are rowdy. I will shoot a line and we will trough and raise to level it. He said he would paint the old fence and it was not done.

Pick someone else UNLESS you can be there every time they come over. Then the price might tempt you to try them. Good Luck! The grands and Bison have been pegging down the fence all week with more to go tomorrow.

Last night the Bison took off to see his new friend and I was alone. I didn't feel like doing yard work, I only have one bag of mulch left. I thought I would go out to eat maybe. Then I made a call to see how my new friend was doing. I got the step dad and we talked a long time. He is just getting over a double knee surgury with complications and they have to sell their house, partly from medical bills that are forcing them into bankruptcy. Not a happy story. I listened and talked and we found some things I may be able to Ebay for them to raise some funds.

This story is all too common. Some of my dearest friends, like grandparents to me, had their daughter hit by a car. Everyone knew who did it, the woman put their girl in the car and took her to the hospital. The nurse ID'ed her, the girl ID'ed her and the vehicle plate was given. But in Thinks it's a Big Town she was someone with connections daughter and never even got cited for leaving the scene of a accident, much less moving an injured (two broken legs) person when she didn't know what she was doing. And she was drunk.

My friends had their own health problems and, with the bills from the daughter's injuries, they were also forced to go bankrupt when they should have been headed for retirement. I hate these situations! So I gues I will be going back to the Big City to take some photos and do some ebay for this family to see if we can scare them up a little extra cash.

Go ahead, say it's none of my business, not my problem. I dare ya! Well, you might even be right. The way I see it is this; If I am aware of a need and I can help but don't - I am not doing what I should be for my heart to be at peace.

I lose some free time, a little gas money and a few computer hours doing the auctions....I have them to spare right now. All I do when I am free is try to find a way to stay busy anyway or I drop into the pit of despair. So maybe it's to help me that I seem to be finding people that need a hand. Third base!

I keep hoping for some music time with my friends and some drinking time up north and to meet someone warm and friendly to spend some time with. Until the time is right for these things I may as well do some good on the planet.

When I got off the phone I started getting blue again so I headed out to visit with my bro in law and his girl while he is home from his remote job location. It's a bit of a drive but it was good for distraction. I needed to check with him on one of the mystery guns anyway. We had a good visit and I headed home thinking I would get a bite on the way. NOT.

I swear, I am going to open a chain of restruants with smoking areas called "An Owl's Roost" that are open from 8 p.m. to 6 a.m. so those of us that can't keep normal hours can still go out to dinner when we want to! I'll have one house special a day, a basic menu with one or two twists, breakfast anytime and more fruits offered for desserts than junk. Real food and real cooks would be our draw, no instant anything. It could be family run and oriented, too. Backers?

The Bison came home last night and caught me by cell to tell me not to shoot him when I came in. He's not so dumb. We stayed up talking awhile and I got to bed just a little earlier than usual. That was good, I am starting to lag a lttle at work again, I need some sleep.

I bought the new water heater last week and will be trying to pick it up soon. I have to get the cement guy scheduled and then the furnace man in and then we hook up the new water heater. At that point we start on gutters and, if there is any money left, one more window. Then we start the cosmetic face lift inside. Paint and paper and carpet out and in or out forever if the floors are pretty enough. With a little luck I will be done by the first snow, LOL! I get tired just thinking about it.

Have a good weekend, all! See you Monday!

First gear, it's all right, second gear, hold me tight

Well then, let's see...on Monday I got up and went to work. (darn boss) I get there and the boss says, "You probably didn't need to come in today." I did have some shipping to do so I whipped that out, stayed for his noon nap and left. I thought it would be nice to hit the Big City before dark so I whipped out the cell and called the City Boy. I learned he is not spontaneous normally. I told him it was ok, I had plenty to do yet and let him go.

I hit the store for food, the gas station for a fill up and headed for the house to start on the lawn. I got it about one third done and got tired so I ducked into the cool of the house to take a nap before I left to meet him. I set the alarm and dropped right off.

I had time to shower and run off. I was at his place on the dot of seven. He wasn't ready. He had tried to call me but I had not checked the cell for messages. I met and visited with his step dad and then his mom when she arrived while he finished up his chores, showered and changed.

They were nice people and she and I had a good talk. Without sounding like a defensive mother, she pretty much told the same story he did. That was good. When he came out ready to go I was surprised to notice he had on black jeans and a black based hawaiian print shirt, the same as I was wearing but a different pattern. I didn't know if I should be flattered, afraid or believe it was coincidence, but it made me smile.

I made my polites and we left, once again on the search for a nice place to eat. Once again to be foiled. We must have driven over most of three counties and finally ended up at a bar in the local Thinks it's a big City. I was trying to get him unstressed so had planned a run through a park with a covered bridge and then decided to head for the second one, too. It was scenic and low stress for traffic.

Right as we were giving up on our fourth town and headed for the bar the cell rang. My third cousin had planned on coming up but when I talked to Rebel, her mom, she didn't know if the girl would have her drivers liscense replaced in time. I guess she did because she was almost to my house! I let the little Rebel know I was going to be awhile, find food, let the dogs in and watch a movie or whatever and we would be along after we ate. I explained to the City Boy that I had thought she canceled but there were still plenty of beds. He was cool with that. So was I! I could duck her or use her to run interference if I needed it. It gave me options. I relaxed a little.

You can't possibly believe I was comfortable with bringing a strange man back to the house before I even had time to get to know him. And I still had the urge/voice to deal with. I didn't want to do that alone in the house with him. What if he thought I was nuts and just started wanting me to give him stuff or just took it or I mean really! Am I nuts? (No - close call :))

Now I had two hungry people still looking for food and one waiting at home I hadn't seen since she was about 12. I was so embarrassed that I couldn't find a place open that we could be comfortable in and we drove all over creation. Ending up at my usual place for a quick bite would work, though. He got the reassurance of seeing that the waitress knew me, knew I didn't order drinks when I ate, and liked me. I got to thinking about it and he might have been wondering if I was going to take him out in the middle of nowhere and turn out to be an ax murderer myself!

Now we were settled in with beverages and I started tryiing to present my offer. I explained that what I was going to say would sound weird but I wanted him to hear me out. I told the sissors story. Then I told him I wanted to offer him the little red truck for as long as he needed it and the money for a tank of gas and to get back legal. I wanted him to know that it could end if my truck breaks down, or if I needed the little truck for a trip. I expected that if I called and asked for it that he would bring it right back. That was the catch. Other than that it was his till he could get another vehicle running again.

He listened intently and he didn't ask any questions. "I don't know what to say." he said, and I answered, "Nothing, for now, I want you to think about it. You can tell me tomorrow." He was one of the rare breed that could live with that so we talked about other things, ate our dinners and went home to wake the little Reb. The dogs met us at the door and never even barked at my new friend. They came right up for pets like they knew him already and I could tell he was good with animal from the way he greeted them. Another good sign, I trust my dogs.

Once she was up I gave them the tour and we decided to shoot some pool. The good news was that he knew how to check for a straight stick, the bad new was that he knew how to use it! SHARK! We had fun teaching little Reb a bit of the game and he played teams against both of us. We got creamed! I am way out of practice and my eyes aren't good for pool anymore.

It was too warm to stay upstairs so we headed down to watch a movie and have some popcorn. It was cooler and relaxing, the movie was funny enough to keep us watching and about three a.m. we called it a night. He is taller so I gave him the couch and she is shorter so I put her upstairs. It worked out ok. I set my alarm and read for a bit then drifted off.

In the morning I made coffee, he made eggs and cheese scrambled and Little Reb made toast while I did up the dishes. We were all getting along pretty well. I called to say we were running a little late for the BBQ and Nurse Lady said take our time. While I was finishing my coffee he rinsed off the few dishes left and wiped the counters down. I had to comment on that! Nice!

Nurse Lady's family is the one that got the player piano. I had never been to their home. We all loaded up in the little red truck and I missed the last turn twice. They had a beautiful log home with a big garden out back and a small pond beyond that, stocked and swimable. There were even two pigs in the woods, Bacon Bits and Hammy, I think. The two boys she had were close in age to the girl I had with me. They all totally got along! Her Country Man and my City Boy did ok, too and she liked him.

We visited, had tea and sodas and fought with a batch of wasps for a time, then the boys started making the piano go. I joined them and showed them how to use the adapter I had found and brought with me to hook it to a vacuum and not have to pump it. We had fun with that and played about 5 rolls. I love these boys because they will sing along to the old songs! One of them plays guitar, too. Nice bunch of folks! Fun and then food.

Pork chops, polish dogs, chicken and baked potatoes, corn on the cob, fruit, with brownies for dessert. A real 4th of July cook out that was just yummy! The Nurse Lady will be lucky if I don't sell my place and move into her basement!

After our dinner we made our polites and headed up to my sister's place to see the horses and for City Boy's next inspection. The two boys decided to follow along in their jeep so we caravaned over. Cee hooked her black gelding and gave us all cart rides, they checked out the cabin and the chickens and helped with chores then met all the new baby mini horses before we left. I did get grilled on the City Boy. I just told her the truth. I had met him once, had dinner once and then brought him home to help him out. I told her why and how. She started objecting. I made her stop the horse. I said, go ahead, any reason I should not do this? Every thing she could think up the voice had already answered me on. I stumped her, too. Even she said he seemed like a really nice person. NO reason not to do this except that it's crazy. I'm used to people thinking that about me so that leaves no reason at all.

The boys headed out and we headed for the house. I stopped and treated to ice cream on the way. We got home just as the sun started down. The girl packed and left, she had college orientation the next day. As she was packing we had a moment alone and I asked him if he was going to accept my offer. He said, 'Yes, I am going to. I'd like to be home before dark." That was the last loop hole. Plugged.

I got the keys out. When she left we went out and I started checking tool kits and paper work. We got him all squared away in about a half hour. We went in and talked for awhile. He was concerned about what he could do in return. I boldly charged him with giving me a hug before he left. In all this time, aside from accidentals, there had been no body contact. It was good for keeping things right between us, but for me it was like looking through the window at what you want with only a dime in your pocket. Even though there were no sparks flying he was a sweet and thoughtful guest with a great smile and I am pretty starved for affection right now.

He told me a story of something that happened in his youth. It's not mine to tell but it involved trying to decide which direction to walk and feeling confused that it was an issue because it was just a recreational walk on a beach. Choosing the correct way that day gave him a story to match the sissors and then some. He understood what I meant exactly about why I was doing this and I was so glad to find he wasn't just thinking he was taking advantage of a crazy old lady! It was the right thing to do and I felt so good about it.

I got my hug and a sort of half kiss. I might have ducked or he might have aimed for a cheek and missed. It was my first. It was a little clumbsy and awkward as he is taller than me, too. But for just a moment I let go and leaned on that man's shoulder and let him hold me. I braced back up and pulled away because I knew if I didn't I would come apart in the comfort of a caring man's arms and that was not how I wanted our visit to end. I needed to be able to smile at him as he drove away.

I did. He turned back and waved as he backed out of the drive way. I waved back, like my grama used to every time we left her home.

I brought home a sad and lonely man. I sent off a man standing straighter who had met good people that liked him and had a smile in his heart. Don't tell me I'm crazy and don't tell me I'm not a billionaire. Just hope the little voice doesn't start talking to me about YOU!