an angel

I love angels . Here is a gift from my son. even a tortured one. Now to find a way to hang it as I think it weighs about 50 lbs.

Believe

Believe

Some holidays contain more magic than others.  This year I was blessed with a share that will stay with me til the end of my days.  

A couple of years ago, my daughter split from her beau leaving her to be the main care taker for their son.  (just to give the father credit --  He does take an avid interest in his son, but he is a control freak, too, which can often make child rearing difficult negotiations for the parents and the boy…) that aside, my younger son and I have taken to being Santa Claus, storing the lad’s gifts at our house and bringing them to hers after he has fallen asleep Christmas Eve.  

This Christmas Eve went long.   My daughter didn’t leave our house until nearly 1 a.m..  My son and I traveled to her house an hour later.   But before we went, I pulled out a special Santa gift for my grandson, a replica of the bell from the movie Polar Express that was put out by Hallmark.  The bell has the same look and jingle as the bell from the movie.  It can also not jingle too if held the correct way.  The box it comes in could be the one from the movie, too, a perfect connection for one who believes in Christmas magic.  I wrapped the bell in special blue paper and put a big bow on it.  

At my daughters, we helped her to set up the gifts.  I left the blue box on top of the stack.  It was the only wrapped gift in a plethora of others.  I took a quick picture, kissed my daughter good-bye, and finally went home.

The morning came quickly; I got up at 8 but was exhausted.  I puttered about for a while and tried to go back to sleep but I couldn’t.  About 11, I called my daughter to see how Johnny was and say Merry Christmas.  

She said, “Johnny, just left. You missed him.”  Her tone was sad, as it is so hard for her to say goodbye to her boy for the day.  But then she asked, “Mom did you leave that blue wrapped present here?”  

I said,”Huh?  What blue wrapped present?”  

Then she said, “Mom, Johnny got up and looked at his gifts, but then he said,”Look one little wrapped present!  What could it be Mama?”

My daughter looked too.  “Where did that come from?”  

Johnny opened it quickly and said, “Look Momma, a bell from Santa’s sleigh.”  My daughter grinned and hugged her son.  She said tears came to her eyes.  Mom did you? And I Laughed.  And she knew.  But she said,
“For one minute Mom, really, my heart really fluttered, and I really did believe.”

I just giggled over the phone and said, “Of course Santa left it there.” And I didn’t say another word.

She has never seen the Polar Express, and I hope she gets to watch it soon, for I think she will smile ear to ear for the magic of the bell there, was here.

Johnny Damon is a traitor

money lovin grubin baseball players that is what they are becoming. what happened to the team? what happened to sticking with one team for a career?

I am seriously thinking of giving up baseball after this!

JOHNNY DAMON I HATE YOU FOR GOING TO THE YANKEES>>YOU HAVE NO LOYALTY
I really want to wish something bad upon you... this sucks!!!

what is this something new

often I purchase new things for my husband, pants, shirts, wallets, you name it, I buy it. Most often he will just let what ever it is sit there until some time that has some significance to him--- sometimes it is a very long time, like three months for the t-shirt I purchased him at Disneyland---

bottom line, i can not make him exchange his old for what is new...he will choose to wear it when he chooses ---- and what ever has kicked around so long that I have washed and ironed it three times and he still has not bothered with it..., or something --- and maybe nothing out of the ordinary happens...just a whim comes upon him.... he is just not the, "it's new I want to wear it, or use it," type of guy. He likes was is tried, true, and comfortable, each adjective not applied to all....
but yesterday, while I was finally doing some xmas shopping, I spied a pair of wing tips, with soft rubber soles, his favorite! and in his size, not easy to find I must say.

when I came home last night, I had a big grin, "look what I found"...he looked in the box, "wingtips" no trying them on, no taking them out of the box to look at them...no nothing...hummm.... I let his unenthusiastic mood slide .... why why.. i didn't even question.... That is just how he is i reminded myself...oh something for me, thanks.... ... and six months later....hey this is great...lol... it is kind of funny...but...

This morning, I heard him rumbling about the bedroom, getting himself together, and then I kissed him goodbye with my eyes half opened....so exhausted from everything, I lay there listening to hear his car, and I didnt hear it for quite a long while--

so long a time passed that I got out of bed and looked out of the window... and I saw him leaving, 1/2 hour later than usual hummm... I wondered, what took him so long, .... and I paused for a few minutes, tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn't so I began my day.
After doing dishes and bottles and organizing my lists... I went into the living room to see the shoe bag near the sofa was empty. Humm... and the box was empty --- left on the buffet...hummm

Yes, he took the time to take his inserts ..he has special feet... and put them in his new shoes, so that means he tried them on, and they fit..yahooo!!!!

New shoes for a new day, wear them well. For some reason this simple act has me in a much cheerier mood. How silly... what does this mean? hummm I guess he is happy about his shoes...

morning

the snow came quick
all was covered
the tree limbs and branches and even the
trunks
signs along the road look sprayed with white corn
or cotton
p.j.hernon was out in his truck with his dog
they both wore hats
looking forward driving along
christmas lights
peeking through the snow crested trees
and fences and porches and rooftops
for as far as eyes could see
12/10/05

i pray for my friend Bob Glavin
i pray he gets well
My love hate relationship of this season continues
i have yet to purchase one gift
i have yet to get my tree or my lights up on my house
i am losing it.

i told my boss i have an interview for a job
if i get into the program it wont be until january--- i told her on the 9th of december that means... it would be almost a months notice.....
she started to cry, i felt badly, but i cant
i have been telling her for weeks she needed to find someone
i am tired of her complaint, "i hate working early, i cant get into the office"
there is no certainty here .... i wanted her to understand
but she pressed, call your boss, they cant do that, they must give you a date
but that is not how it is, and she knows that
i did call one of my bosses, he told me the same, what does she think i am going to do, call and get myself throw out before i even get in.... geessh...it is a game..all a fn game...
she is the one who decided to go to europe for 3 weeks....
arghhh....
i will write poetry and next week get ready for xmazz haha.. or Christmas

cold heat

wear your gloves
wear your hat
cover your head
dont go out like that

where are your socks?
where are your boots?

do you need long underwear?
a sweater?
hot chocolate?
tea?

none of the above
give lasting heat

yesterday was one of those everlasting days
a day i took a nap in the afternoon
a day i cooked breakfasts (short order) after 4
a day the shopping took place so late
that by the time all was put away
husband and i went to bed
that was the deal...
if you go shopping with me, we can come home and go right to bed...
hahah ...
so we did...
first there was the unpacking by the crew, they picked and decided what they wanted to cook,
then there was the sneaking into bed, but hearing all kinds of noise---
the oil overheated and the smoke alarms and the baby and doors and windows......

the bellow of
"you're not paying the heating bills"

yesterday was 8 years since my father died...
and 33 years since my husband and i first kissed
yesterday we tested those kisses
they didnt seem 33 years old---
some things get better with age...
perhaps kissing does

the reason why our eyes get weaker is so that we cannot see the imperfections that come along with growing old.... some how my husband does not look like he is losing his hair, nor does his beard and mustache appear all white, i just dont see the way it is....

nor does he see how old lady ive become..well when it comes to driving with my seatbelt on, and worrying about wrinkles, and not wanting to wear anything but plain white cotton underwear.... that he never complains are old lady like..... thank you love for creating foolish visions and giving us heat when it is too cold to walk around the house in bare feet
enough rambling...

sleepy

the morning is quiet, i can hear the ticking of the clock,
the soft touch keys beat as they are tapped, the baby coos, and squeaks in his swing, my eyes droop, mothering for an hour

i remember the endless mornings, one child, then later, another, and more years, another, and more years another... til there was four. today they run out the door, each on their own path, for the most part happy, so that should be it,
but sadness comes over me, covers me like snow turned to ice-- glazed
how fast they have grown.... their lives are going by, just as mine, slipping--
even with the hardships, i would relive it again to get to this day, this moment, this feeling of peacefulness,
i breathe longer and harder
everyday is full, but i take each moment of joy for all it gives,
yet i am sad, i really have no more babies. my youngest will be 16 after the first of the year, the oldest will turn 28
i dont want another child to care for, i just want this to keep going
this way
quiet
Peace
calm
the dog is barking, i laugh, being so annoyed, he wants to go out in the snow
you are too old, your hind legs will freeze,
stay in be warm, he reminds --
the world outside is barking for me

.

Tests Suck

Tests Suck

Who at 47 years old wants to take a test that could possibly change the direction she has been working toward for over 12 years –

The reason for the test would be to be accepted into a program that will turn her life upside down for 4 months, and then from there, the future could be endless, if she manages to make it through it all….

So she took the test… she stressed during the test, she freaked during the test, not that it was hard, but because it was work.   Yes, you must work at math she reminded herself.  Yes, you can do math she reminded herself.  

The test had a grammar mistake…how dare they
The test had stupid questions….why would they?

She left the test with a feeling of “I know I blew it”
But she didn’t… excellent, excellent, excellent, that is how they grade you,
Excellent, strong, minimal, and non-eligible.   So she passed that part.  Now she has to wait for an interview.  Will she get one?  God help her through this crap.  Who at 47 years old needs it?  All should be settled and straightened out by now!  Isn’t that the way it is supposed to be?

There is no supposed to be in life and living.  To truly live one must keep learning, that is the teacher in me.  Oh it is fun to be a fool sometimes.  So many paths...  How much time?

New York New York

Truly Scrumptious

Johnny, my grandson, 7, curious, observant, smart, dislikes school, but he doesn’t dislike learning. He dislikes the regiment, and finds his imaginative mind much more entertaining than school lessons. He loves music, likes to sing, and likes to watch TV. He hates to color but in his words, “loves to draw.” There is a difference, he will let you know.

This summer, I asked him,”Would you like to go to New York City, would you like to go see Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?
He asked, “What’s that Grammy?”
I explained that “it” is a musical on Broadway and more questions came easily.
What’s Broadway? Where is New York? Why is it far away? What is a musical? What is Chitty Chitty Bang Bang?

“Oh, yes Grammy, I would like to go.” he finally said. So we went.

The night before we watched a movie and cuddled up on the sofa, but sleep came lightly, or no sleep, so it seemed, we were both too excited, and woke up easily at 5:30. Papa dropped us at South Station where a twisting line 100 people strong waited to get on the bus. Would we make it on the first bus out?

The driver looked at our papers, and at Johnny, “Laddie, where is your ID? I suppose you’re not old enough? Do we have to put him with the luggage?” he asked another driver. Johnny tightened his grip around my already held hand and leaned into me. I laughed a bit as we entered the bus.
“He was just teasing me?” Johnny said looking back, I laughed and agreed.
We found the last, free, two- seater, at the very back of the bus near the bathroom. Arggh I thought, I hope it doesn’t smell, and it didn’t seem to.
Johnny settled in near the window and gazed out of it, and then at me, “Is it going to be a long ride Grammy?”
About 4 hours, like when we went by plane to visit Aunt Joni.
Humm, but then we were flying, here we are driving, and it takes the same time. Are we going to go down hills and up hills and around hills?
Yes, I would say so, but not big hills.
I hate hills in buses, he said just as we turned onto the long hill that lead the bus to the Mass Pike. Grammy that was fun. Johnny looked at the buildings as we passed and in the stir, we talked a bit, but then he relaxed and rested against me and fell asleep.

We were in Connecticut when he woke up.
Are we there yet? Not yet? Just how much longer? I have to go potty. Want to try?
Sure, he bravely went to the bathroom door, lock it from the inside, and said, “Don’t touch that thing over head or else you have a problem.” he giggled, and I heard his feet slip on the floor, his voice saying…..oh no oh no, ---- metal seat warned not to touch or sit on,------ and the bus rumbling along, oh no oh no I can’t, I heard him say again as he came out the door holding onto his pants. I can’t Grammy, it’s too bumpity. I’ll wait till we get there…. And he did.

Soon we came to the Bronx and the bridges and Johnny perked up. How soon Grammy? Please say “We’re here!” when we get there. But I was just as dazed as him, and soon we were in the terminal with out my cheer. Grammy you didn’t say “We’re here!” I laughed; well we’re here, hooray! And we both grinned.

We found the rest rooms and had lunch in the bus station; it was much easier to make our plans that way.
Where to first? Let’s find the theatre and walk from there. So we did.
Times Square on this Sunday Morning was the quietest I’ve ever found it to be. There were fewer people, much fewer than I ever remembered, but it was only 10:30 am. Of course.
We found the theatre and then walked up to the middle of the square. Johnny noticed and pointed out the neon signs immediately. Look! Grammy Look! He shouted as he watched them lighten and go dark or change picture from picture. We walked up to the Hershey’s store where he picked out a few things he was interested in. He also helped the man in the store make buckets of Hershey’s treats with a machine. What time are you open till? 10 pm Mam. Johnny and I decided to return after the show. From there we walked back to the Toys R Us. Look, Grammy, look, he shouted as we walked by the Ferris wheel.
Want to go on that?
Nope, Grammy I do not.
I’ll go with you.
Nope, I don’t like heights.
We continued walking ….WOW look Grammy! Johnny shouted, look King Kong made out of Lego’s and the Statue of Liberty made of out Lego’s, too. And on and on Johnny’s eyes took in the magic, and his voice let out his glee. Certainly, he has been to other toy stores, he has been to Disneyland, he has seen all kinds of displays, but today, that day, right then, right there, all was new, and wonderful to him, and he was seeing it all for himself, by himself without me pointing a thing out, he was exploring and enjoying and for me, and actually for quite a few passersby, and a few clerks in the store, Johnny had that certain magic that wonder and innocence creates, the magic that joy and simplicity can spray, and that most grown ups, at least the ones I like, love to hear and see and be touched by.

Johnny played for a bit, then we walked to the theatre for his first Broadway Musical, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, that was perfect for a child of 7.
Perfect for the settings, bright bold, and amicable to children’s eyes. The windmill looked like a playspace with beds on lofted stilts,
The music was fun and playful, and especially nice with melodies from flutes from time to time.
You could watch the conductor on the TV if you wanted to --- Johnny did a few times. The show was perfect for him because the children in it were about his size,
It was perfect because the Child Catcher was very very scary, and the stage setting so dramatic that Johnny remarked, “That doesn’t look real, it looks like it is on TV.” And Johnny shivered in his seat as the Child Catcher caught the children because he was in a disguise.
The show was perfect for the live puppies that ran across the stage, and the underground tunnel that made Johnny afraid, and the guns that shot confetti that floated down upon us, but most of all, it was perfect for the vision of Chitty, the magical car that could float and fly and Johnny could not figure out how, for there were no strings to make it fly. Johnny clapped, and cheered, and then sighed as we went outside.

This could have been the down of the day, the show was over, it was a little gloomy, but it wasn’t, for when we began to walk up the street, Santa Claus and an Elf were suddenly there. Hello, Santa Claus, Johnny said.
Well Hello Young Man, Santa said and they shook hands. The Elf gave Johnny a candy cane and we kept walking.
Grammy, Santa wasn’t there before, where did he come from?
I don’t know, maybe magic, I said.
Yes, Johnny agreed as he grinned ear to ear.
When we got to Times Square we stopped to take his picture, and passersby stopped too to let the shot be done. Everyone was extremely nice.
We went back to the Toys R Us where the Ferris wheel was still too daunting for him and Johnny picked out Buckaroo, a game small enough that he could carry himself. We went back to the Hershey’s store where he bought a big huge Hershey’s Kiss and some big Hershey’s bars and then we walked and talked. Tickets were available for David Letterman, but he was too young. Cabs were there to jump into, but he wanted to walk, and by the time we got to Central Park the sun had set. It was just too dark to go exploring. Another time, Johnny, I said, and he agreed. We took the A train back to 42nd street, had our dinner at the same place we had our brunch, and then found ourselves in a 200 person line waiting for a bus back to Boston. Johnny was excited to go home, but then again sad to leave, When are we coming back Grammy?
In the spring Johnny, I’ll bring you here for an over night.
Ok, Grammy, that sounds good.


When we came from the bus station at home, Papa was waiting for us.
Johnny ran to his car, Papa, Papa, we’re back!
My husband, said, “You’re smiling, you look so happy, I love that.”
I said, “I had a wonderful day with my grandson.”And from the back seat up piped little Johnny’s voice, “I had a wonderful day, too”
He stayed over that night, and he went to the school the next day. And actually I haven’t seen him since, but I see his handsome face in the picture and in my mind, and I know I’ll be seeing him soon. I wonder if or what tune he has playing in his head? I’ll have to ask him, because I can’t get Truly Scrumptious out of mine! And yes, it actually was a Truly Scrumptious time.

cant help it

another adorable pose

rush

i heard him in the shower and moaned
it was going to be one of those mornings when my space would not be my space one of those mornings that i could easily stay in bed curled up
in my blankets, my feather pillow
beneath my head dreaming instead of planning
scheming oh please give me a way out---
before 5:00 am he knocked on the door
did you get me that phone?
no
then more
do me a big big favor?
what is it?
sew a patch on my jeans?
no i dont really want to, but i suppose i'll have to
fine I'll do it myself
i would let you but you need to use the sewing machine, set it up
so he did
and i did
and well he was happy, and i was my old self, proud i could accomplish something that many people couldn't or wouldn't want to do

i like to sew, it has a meditative effect
much like ironing, that process too has a reflective state while in the doing

years ago women, who did not come with money, worked in the home, they sewed, they ironed, they took an entire day to do laundry, they even shoveled their own coal, grew potatoes in their cellars, and grapes vines in their yards, they cooked, and scrubbed, and still made love....

my my mind does wander...

how little space is does one own?
that the answer is none
even when alone you are sharing space

I loved the book the Subtle Knife, to have a knife that cuts a hole into another world and then back into your own, yes exciting, treacherous, dangerous, but oh what a form of escapism

a transporter would be good too.
right now i have to transport myself to work ---

cool air

Here is a funny picture of the new baby in his baby Einstein... he is growing way too fast!








suddenly it really is November, the air is crisp, the wind frisky at times, and Thanksgiving is next week.


This weekend I have to do all the shopping, then start the baking. We are staying home this year. I need the time to be home as I am so rarely here. I miss my house, its warmth, just having the time to snuggle up and watch a movie on TV without falling asleep would be a gift. Hub Bub is building some kind of external harddrives for his work, computers are expensive erector sets to him, so go for it, but of course some day I might feel like I am living in a museum....of the old and new. We do have two huge closets full of computer parts.

The crew went to see Harry Potter 4. It was a wonderful night. The movie made me cry, and with that, I have to say, it is the best Harry Potter yet.

There is something special in a movie that can make me cry. And even more something in a movie that can make a man cry. Would my husband have cried at this? I don't rightly know, but... oh I cant tell tales. Off to work I go......

Construction

Construction

Since April we have lived in a construction zone:
The T is doing a major overhaul on the 100 year old red line section where we live.
The city is working on the water/sewer separation project mandated by the Federal Government.
Discovery ---- …. we live in a bed from an old river, when the city put in piping …sewer pipes, any kind of piping…under our little section of H street … the main junctions-- were build here… these bases give access to the electricity, cable, gas, and who only knows what other utilities---they lie beneath the concrete and black top of our neighborhood -- a city unto their own… Just how much of the neighborhood I do not know, but if this is any indication of what lies beneath our houses…. Hummm ---- they keep records of this… a job someone could go into as far as the dating is concerned because our project is always being put on “hold’ waiting for one utility or another to finish its “section” of the job.
It has been mornings, afternoons, and evenings of
Useless policemen on details….cops in orange and white belts….orange vested sewer workers, baseball caps, swearing and more swearing…, hardhats and all and all a lot of nastiness.
My grandson has received a fine construction vehicle education:
Shovel trucks
Dump trucks
Fork lift trucks
Trucks that men jump out of with jack hammers in their hands
Trucks that men jump out of and unload other machines from
Trucks with huge metal plates--- the metal plates are dropped on the big fat holes they make everyday
little and sizeable Trucks people wearing orange vests drive….carrying clips boards and papers and what ever else…
He also is witness to the pipes they took out and replaced…
8 foot round pipes
6 foot round pipes that look like huge tunnels we used to play in at the playground… but I can’t remember what they would called at this moment… but I am trying
2 foot round pipes
4 inch round pipes
And holes------- oh all kinds of holes…
Holes the size of my kitchen from sidewalk to sidewalk and some
Making the street impassable…and sink holes here and there… Where did that one come from?


One day a
Little street cutter drove out of a truck, it was a small three wheeled vehicle with a huge circular saw that sliced up the black top, and as it did the slicing, it also sprayed water. This water and digging at the same time splashed up mud, a mud so thick you would be a sculpture if you passed by. This mud marked all the vehicles as it sliced up the street. Everyone’s car looked as if it had been driving through a treacherous rain storm in a South American country------ movie cliché I know…
The workers didn’t take the time to warn anyone…
So today after a week of quiet
The Nstar trucks
Keyspan trucks
And some construction company trucks are out on the street again. It makes me wonder what folly has taken place, but I know it isn’t a folly, it is that the planning for this project has been poor, filled with set backs.

Life dreams in time and space, construction projects remind us to be patient. = soon it will be gone away, until the next bright idea… But this project will be back after the snow and probably in-between snowstorms too, because the black top is not going to make it. It is too loose.

Which prepares me to say I am still looking for the greatest bath tub… and ive yet to find one..? A deep one I can soak in … a hide away for some private time.
My own construction project… Humm, perhaps I’ll wait til spring, it will be warmer, and and and…. Hummmm…. There is always more to do.

wanted

girls day out. di and i do this occasionally, take a day to ourselves. and we-- usually --- in some way have our picture taken, today it was after 5 hours at the mall, she maintained her sense of humor,
me, all i could think about was the work i had to get done at home... i cant believe i had four inches cut off my hair, and it looks green arggghhh.....what a bore!

Life, Living, and Running Away

Running Away sometimes is just what I have to do to keep living.... or else all there would be is work...

We ran away to Salem the day before Halloween-- My sister in law, my godson, my two daughters, and my grandson all took the train. It was much easier than driving, then we walked.... all about the town which isnt too large, and has many sights to see even when it isn't close to Hallow's Eve....

There was a bike run which brought in over 7500 motorcycles of various styles, Johnny and I waited and watch for them all to come by. He was so excited, look Grammy over and over again. He was a tired lad that day, so watching the run from stacks of hay, curled up to his Grammy was just what he needed to enjoy the rest of the evening....
In Salem there were haunted houses, and ghost stories, and witches, and warlocks, and scary creatures, like Chuckie, and Jason, but I didnt see a Freddie this year... Oh how I hate Chuckie! and so does my little love Johnny, he turned into me as a large 6 foot Chuckie passed us on the street... There were wizards, and lots of Harry Potter stuff, but I just wore my black clothing and long black coat and an angel's halo. My daughter Di dressed up too, as a Cat with wings, she looked very cute.... Scary that she is only fifteen.. But the rest of the troop dressed down in their everyday clothes, but it didnt make a difference because in Salem there is room for both the costumed and the viewers...

There were one act plays about ghosts, and goblins, and murderers... We went to see a certain one act play .... and in the dark theatre Johnny sat up quickly, and peeped out, "Excuse me, Excuse me Sir" as he was frightened, but we shsshed him quiet and he sat down for the rest of the show. When we were leaving a man came up to me and said, "Gee, he was the best. I've never laughed so hard in my life."

I met a writer and illustrator of a book who self published, and of course my kids were yearning to hear me say I was going to do the same, but I didnt. I just enjoyed meeting Maryanne and her husband and chatting with her for awhile.

My daughters were just wonderful, exploring the inns and outers of the town, not an argument, just joy, and of course a few bikers who are the biggest flirts in the world, added levity to my all too consumming working world. I have so much more to say but of course, I have to go off to work. maybe I'll have some time tomorrow.

For the first time i

For the first time in week’s ive a moment to myself, it is 154 in the morning and just about everyone is asleep.  Tears slip from my eyes… so many thoughts, too many decisions to make, some worry, some fears, so much change in the past month ---

What I as has been blown away.

The holidays are coming, and I hate/love the holidays.  So much pressure, so much work, so much expectation. so much happiness, but then so much sadness too.  I cant bear it at times, the less fortunate=== what do they do… scoff at the holiday fools…those who have not a care what do they do>…what ever they choose… and me torn between helping and giving and getting… yes I like to get … and I’m being honest here…. Too many times I have gone without so others can have things, and well, im just working too hard to not have what I want too, at least once in awhile.===


Beside me on the desk --- is this thing call a peach puppy ---- a decision about a complaint that I filed… Do I have hope and expectations that I’ve won…no… I’ve lost without even going to get the answer.

I’ve lost because I let my back injury kill my dream, I’ve let money determine my fate.  So that makes me cry, but I have my other dream, the one I’m working on …some what… and well…maybe that is just what I need to do…keep writing… and let it all come out some how or some way.  

My peace has been disrupted… Son up and out the door, it’s two a.m.  
M R’s been arrested.  
For what?
Driving on the highway/
His parents--- do they know?
NO, that’s why we are going to get him out
He wasn’t drinking?  Was he?
Not that I know of.

It: Alternative

I pray for my sister who is fighting cancer …keep fighting
It is too scary to explain

I pray for my son who is fighting addiction.  keep fighting
It is too scary to explain

I pray for my daughter who is still recovering from a divorce.
It is too scary to explain

I pray for my other son and my other daughter too.
Growing up is sooooo
Scary to explain

I pray for my husband. To quit smoking
If you get lung cancer ---
That is too scary to explain too…

What is not too scary to explain?

It is not too scary for me to say I miss my 7 year old grandson, probably too much
It is not too scary to say that I know I have some decisions to make.
It is not too scary to say, Where is Time going?

It is too scary to think that I can’t even talk to my sister because I am so upset about her being so sick that I cry and she just doesn’t need to hear me crying about what she probably wants to cry about but she cant because she has to be so fucken strong and just keep believing that she is going to beat this thing.

What an idiot I am.

hummmm

more of the same:
daughter having to make adjustments in her life creating strife for her father and I
son having to make some strides in his life creating stress for father and I
daughter having to go to early morning detention and mother not willing to drive creating .... a worn out attitude..
so that is that.
the white soxz against the astros wow.... who would have believed it. st louis is playing like the Red Soxs ha!

Construction still going on and will be for another year. This is horrid.
so tired can't manage.

wetness

And the rain came down….
Some how the weather has changed completely… from summer to fall in a swipe
Rain and leaves and cool air, but I still see people in shorts and cropped pants, skirts without stockings…. But me, I am bundling up again, layering my clothes to keep warm.

Of course if they had the heat on in my office at the morning job I probably wouldn’t need sooo much winterizing.  I am looking forward to this winter, having sometime for myself, finding a place to exercise as my house is so full now, and just being able to have sometime that is my own.  It has been over a year and ½ since I started watching my grandson nearly every evening.. How life changes.  OH well I will survive.  I will miss the boy though.

j

Baseball musings

Baseball musings….

I have not forgotten-- the feeling…. Down trodden --- hunched over, elbows on my knees, head slightly low, cheeks full and pouting lips, tears trying to ooze out of the sides of my eyes. Disbelief….how many times have I been here before… on the edge of grief… because of baseball…

Change of Colors, the Boston Globe said, and others too. Yes, it is true, the Sox’s are out, no ALCS play, no World Series. Put your dreams to bed, but not….

There is NEXT Year!!!

I wonder how many times I said that in my life time, next year.
O, how I basked in last years’ glee, the happiness, the out and out cheer that still carries over, yeah, it is still there…

We just didn’t get it this year. Yup! It’s over, and I know it’s over, but,

The Atlanta Braves are in there… and they used to be in Boston, so they are my national league team. I’m on their fan list, and receive emails about their games and tickets. (At least if I lived in Atlanta I would be able to get tickets, unlike that fact that this year I was unable to get a ticket to a Red Sox game….. Well, not true, I could have had a few tickets but they would have cost me, next year I might just have to do some begging…)

Anyway, last night, I pushed back my sadness, cheered on the Angels against the Evil Empire, and today, I will cheer on St. Louis and the Braves. Sorry Padres.


Now I am free to choose whom to root for ----- and of course it will not be the Chicago, well I do like that city, and I love NYC too except for the Yankees, and if they manage to win, I will never root for them, it would be more than a sin….
I will not root for Houston either– home of our ex Roger Clemens…

I would like to see the Angels (at least I’ve seen their stadium) go up against the Braves and have the Braves win,….

but I have a feeling for the end…it’s going to be the White Sox’s against St Louis… and then who do I pick? Certainly not a bird!

Back to the Sox’s again… the Pin Striped Black and Whites, I have to give them credit… they just plain out shined us…

And my husband, the bad fan, how he loves to tease me, he flipped through the stations last night… I put my pillow over my head…. the news over and over again….punishment
“Stop it!” I said …..----

“You,” he said to me, “I come to rescue you and you tell me to shhhh, because you were listening to the Red Sox’s.”

There is no sense in trying to explain Red Sox’s reasoning to a man that is a bad fan. I rolled away from him.
“Your boys of the summer just didn’t make it.”

Arghh how dare he.

I closed my eyes, and hugged my pillow. Good Night Red Sox’s Sweet Dreams.
NEXT YEAR!!!! Oh yeah, I’m waiting!

a cure for sadness...

"I don't want realism. I want--magic!"
--Blanche DuBois, "A Streetcar Named Desire"
stolen from Belle in NYC 's blog... but oh sooo true...

Why deal with the real, when you can have magic if you believe in it.

sad

i am
sad about my sister being sick
it doesnt matter that i believe she will eventually be cured
it just sucks that she has to go through this
she has three kids
my mother always says, "who says life is fair?"
I hate that question.
I want to just scream.

other wise everything else is ok except for my tears
been so emotional lately it is like being on a bungie cord
high and low
the new baby is so sweet
my nerves are just shot
worry
i dont want to
but i do

Waffled

One night last week, I was with my grandson, talking with him about his endless day at school, and after school, and being with Papa, Auntie Dee Dee, the new baby, his uncle, and his aunt, and various other people before I brought him home to his own house. We were chatting about the usual things when he said, “Grammy, can’t you stay over tonight?”
I replied,” No, I have to go home, Auntie DD has school and Papa has work.”
“But Grammy,” he said, “When, are you going to stop being Papa’s slave?” And I laughed, “So you think I am Papa’s slave?” And he nodded his head as he held my arm and I just laughed again, “Someday.”

Later that evening I told my husband what Johnny had said.
“You are more his slave than mine.” My husband was indignant, and I didn’t say anything, but I smiled inside.

On Friday, after a long 10 hours plus day I returned home to the infamous DD requesting a ride to the Plaza, “We have to go today. Tomorrow is Stacey’s birthday party and I’ve nothing for her. Cash my check. When are we leaving? I want to go in 20 minutes.”

Exhausted, I capitulated and off we went to the plaza, Johnny, DD, and I.

DD was going to Hot Topic, a store I truthfully like, but … I am in need of some new white cotton gowns which are, for some reason unbeknown to me, very hard to find. I like sleeveless long white cotton nighties. So Johnny and I went to Filene’s, while DD went to the Goth store. Filene’s had not a thing, polyester blends..yek! I wasn’t interested.
But then I remembered I needed a new frying pan. I had thrown away my 12 inch -- lack of Teflon.
Calphalon was on sale. That stuff is heavy. I examined it. Lifted 4 different brands. Johnny meanwhile had found something else. A waffle maker, not a round waffle maker, not a square waffle maker, but a dipping - stick waffle maker that even came with a dipping station. It was on the half price rack. I lifted the box, $50.00. Wow expensive for a waffle maker. Cuisinart, a good name. I asked the clerk,” How much?”
“$40.00”
“Humm, maybe another kind?”
The clerk took me about the department. They had some very fine waffle makers. But nothing like the dipping waffler. I wavered, and after 10 minutes of contemplation, I waffled, “I’ll take it.” And two calphalon pieces, one frying pan with a cover, and a square skillet. Charged.
We were off, out of Filene’s into the plaza searching for a white Polo hat and Aunt DD at the same time.
“When are we going home Grammy?" Can we make the waffles when we get there? I can’t wait til we have the waffles Grammy.” Johnny went on and on. Waffles.
We met up with Aunt DD who spent all her $$ in one stop, so out to the car we went.

"Couldn’t we get a pretzel Grammy?" Johnny asked.
“No Johnny, we will have waffles when we get home.”
“Waffles.” Johnny fell asleep on the drive. Papa came out to get him and was carrying the child up the stairs when he suddenly popped opened his eyes as if he had slept all night,
“Papa, I can’t go to bed. Grammy is making me waffles.” Down the steps he trotted in his socks. Out came the pancake mix, no scratch tonight. Out came the waffle stick maker, directly to the sink for a before use washing, then, the directions, bowls, and spatulas, oil, milk and
the Dipping Station --- to the sink---
3 little dipping cups and a cradle for them to dock in.
We made the batter, and set the timer, waffle sticks after waffle sticks, maple syrup, and honey, and jam, Papa, Uncle Ricky, Auntie Heather, Auntie DD, Johnny, Mikey, and Grammy …. Everyone from every room in the house came out. Johnny’s Momma came in. It was 11:30 and there were waffles in the kitchen and smiles in the house.
The family that never gets to dine together was hanging out.
“You spoil him,” Papa said to me.
“Without him there wouldn’t be this joy,” I grinned.
Papa agreed, “You are still more his slave than mine.”
“Maybe,” I said, Johnny nodded.

overwhelming sensations

the squirt from an orange onto my face
the sight of an argument on the street
the smile of an old man and his hand shake
the sunshine on my bed in the afternoon
the sounds of my children
young, old, and inbetween laughing, crying, excited, and
their looks when they dont realize they are showing how happy he/or she is to see me

these are just a few of the unfelt touches that reach inside of me

should be in bed sleeping

my bed is beckoning me, come back, come back, do not go on the little machine, the big machine is consuming you lately, and ohhh how right it is... working 10 hours a day plus...
the temporary promotion is going ok... the boys' club:
clearing throat.... huuummm -- how else can one describe 21 men who fluctuate between the ages of 2 and 75 in action and 21 through 61 in age.., two women are included in the boys' club, and one woman who does the same job isn't. ---so
why the boys club?
topics they discuss daily that my privileged ears (not) get to listen to....
did you see her??
did you see the top on her
i would do her, i would do her, i would do her,
he would do her
she would do her
no, i couldn't wouldn't shouldn't do her
do you believe the balls on him?
do you believe the balls on her?
how many hours did you get?
how many hours did he get?
did you see that picture he has?
did you see that picture she has?
hang it here
did you read that article about so and so and so and so?
well i knew it was going on
im going to get wasted
im going to get a liquid lunch
any smokes?
hey did you see her on the corner?
nascar yeah!!
football yeah! ( i am included in this sport conversation)
baseball yeah! (i am included in this sport conversation)
hockey _is that still a sport?
the gas went up 15 cents this morning
now it is down 32
wait til 6 it will be up again
did you know that so and so?
did you know that he and she?
did you know?
hey how it is over there?
do you believe that one?
do I have to
I dont want to
did you see the shelf on her?
did you see her ________? fill in the blank
wonder if she is still?l
wonder is he is ----?
what balls you have!
snicker snicker snicker
I'm telling you
NO WAY!
NOT THAT!
F U!
GET F'd!
I'm outahere!


Now occasionally all 21 men plus the 2 women I work with do leave the boys club.... for a breath of manhood and woman hood and adulthood.
actually ---- When they get onto the street this boys' club, plus a few in their league, well, I guess I've got to say they are a pretty fine bunch of street walkers.

I wasnt intending to go on this rant. it just happened....so ill take it... God do not allow any lc's and i dont mean low carbers...to read this blog!

complaint of the day: I do not have a clone. How unfair! (is that true?)

brain full --- too many thoughts --- unleash the flood

I have a temporay promotion; my previous work mate, and friend, has been acting very weird. She knows that certain things are supposed to be done by the closer, yet she isnt doing them. It is a precarious situation, I will work through this, and hopefully she will change her attitude. Yea, I am not the big boss, but unfortunately I am a little boss, am I bossy?> no, do I want to be bossy?>, no, am I going to have to get bossy, Well, I think I am going to have to let it be known that I've been told certain things have to be taken care of, and they are not my job now--- just as I have been teased, dont touch it or ill write you up, then they must be hers. blah blah

trying a new diet plan as i have been going all day without eating ...breakfeast yes..i am forcing myself to eat it.... by the time i get home i am ravenous...unhealthily so... my poor body is doomed. I just dont have the time to eat.

dream dream dream
to have a personal chef, one that could make me food and deliver it to me -- and I don't mean prepacked grub, I mean fresh fruit and salads and a nice roast beef au j... ahhh what a dream..

another dream is a warm vacation, ....

but the best wish of all would be for the city to finish the construction on my street, it is worse than ever.... day and night now, and in a few days they will be digging in front of my house again. woe is me.

the petite woman syndrome boss took it pretty well when I told her that I needed to change my hours.... except of course the 1/2 hour lecture on finding a lawyer. The truth is lawyers dont like to take cases against the Federal government, they are seen as losing cases, money sucking up litagation, with everyone only getting a tiny piece of the pie ...if there is any pie at all.

well that is all i have time to let out...must get out in the big machine...

no pie... complaint of the day... i find the term "pie hole" totally disgusting. speaking of pie!

building a poem... just for fun

sometimes my kids say to me, how did you do that..does it just come to you...and i say no, it comes in phases...so i'm writing this to show them how it works... how some thoughts come about and how i might create a poem in the long run about it. so first i will free write...and later when ive played with it for awhile something different will come about...

right now i am sooo tired....my neck hurts...my head is heavy so I know I'm exhausted when I can't keep my eyes opened to watch Jay Leno's monalogue, I know I'm exhausted when my grandson has to shake me, "Grammy,Grammy" wake up. I know I'm exhausted if I skip the snooze button in favor of 15 minutes extra rest. I know I'm exhausted when I become scatterbrained. I know I'm exhausted when I cuddle up to my husband and just close my eyes and hold his hand. I know I'm exhausted when I cannot read. I know I'm exhausted if I go out of my house without ironing my clothing (no one is going to see me) this always back fires.
I know I'm exhausted when I look in the mirror and my eyes are red and think about that man at the beach with the beachball eye, gets the red out...
now the other thing is when i am exhausted i dream, which is good, because i dont sleep long enough to dream usually, but boy do i have some funny dreams... like i dreamed about getting so fat i couldnt slip by my bedpost and myhusband's dresser...which made me laugh, i dreamed about my husband and daughter... driving in her car with the sunroof open...his hair flying out of it like a suess character, and my daughter laughing at my husband's insane way of driving moving every car on the road out of the way by waving and commenting in some outlandish way.... well ill finish this later... got to drive now

new baby pic

one beautiful baby boy!

campingaugust2005

johnny camping 2005

dianna and steph dotday parade

steph, dianna, and erica on dot day 05

Spring05Mike'sshow (somePhoto updates)

mike 2005 baa graduate

New Baby

Little Ricky

Will

....

Ricky William W.
born September 15th 8:41 p.m.
8lbs 4 oz

blonde hair, blue eyes,
a little pointed head, hard delivery, but able to smile
cries for his Mom when he hears her voice
1st night midnight visit by Grammy and Papa
showed off his big smile, short grin, little groan, wriggle and big pout of his little lips
with his eyes peeking, he tried to suck on his hand or finger or thumb, couldn't tell, as all was buried beneath his t-shirt ---
the wrap around wrap up kind that keeps new babies from scratching themselves.
if not for the blue striped tag in his bassinet wouldn't be able to tell he is a boy, peachy skin, not a blemish, Eyes like his Mom's, Lips like his Dad's, and a nice loud cried to let you know he is there.

Papa was a proud papa indeed. He even held the tyke before I, I could feel him glowing with pride, just as his son....the new Dad


Got the phone call shortly after the birth, I didn't care what they named him, all I wanted to hear was that Mother and Child were fine. It had been a long night into day into evening. The Mom had an ok, but not easy delivery, much longer than any of mine, but the New Mom looked good, her face wasn't flushed, she was swollen and sore and she was surprised.

I kissed her head and said,"Welcome to motherhood." And she replied,"I'm never doing that again." My husband and I laughed. It isnt easy. Then she said, "I only had to push for an hour, and it felt so good to get him out!" We laughed again. Her happiness filled the room, and the new Dad came in with the new boy. ..., my mind wandered.... I'll get him trains, like J --- and back further to

Earlier in the night, I had been babysitting my oldest grandson, J, he was restless, he wanted to play with his trains. I told him it was late and he had to go to bed. He insisted on playing. So I said, "Ok I'm not going to lie down with you. You'll have to go to bed." He fussed a bit, then I heard him playing with his Thomass and I laughed to myself as I threatened him from the sofa, "You best get into that bed, Grammy is mad at you for making her be a mean Grammy because you won't go to sleep."
Soon, I checked on him, soundly snoring with his Koala bear beside him. I kissed him, and felt a little sad that I had to be so strict with him. He does love playing Thomas and he loves it when I play with him.

Inside my head I kept thinking of the soon to be new parents, are they going to be ok... Mom, Baby, Dad? Earlier in the day my tyrant boss said the wrong thing to me when I told her I was worried as the baby was going to be born. She said,"I feel sorry for you." a reference I knew to the circumstances of them not having a place of their own and 'life goals' for the new parents being unsettled.... and at times unsettling -- still....

I replied, "But why? I am not worried about anything but the health of Mother and Child. There can be many complications in childbirth." I shook my head and was glad to leave on time.

Some people don't get "It." "It" here being that love may not be all they need, but love is a beautiful thing. There has never been a thought in my mind that our new grandson came about because of something other than love. His life is a gift. I know the new parents have a strong love and I hope that love will bring them the strength they will need to give this baby a wonderful life.

Love is a well parents draw on when they have trouble and strife, love is what binds them to work together to create a better life, Love is not a fix-a-tive, it is an ingredient --- like water to the body, love to the soul, love = life.

Yes I know, one can not survive on love alone, but it helps alot.

More on little Ricky or Will and our visit later

real people, unreal me

Today I witnessed two -- I need a 'reality check' situations...

First, I was driving down the Avenue. Now our Avenue is 5 miles long, it goes from the Fort Point Chanel downtown Beantown to Milton where the original George Bush was born. It's famous for a bar on every corner and ethnicities... A little Polish, A little Irish, A little Indian, as in from India, a little Vietnamese, a little Greek, a little Common Ground, Dunkin Donuts, plenty of gas stations, sub shops, nextels, corner stores, and as I mentioned earlier many a bar.

About Half way down the Avenue you will find "Fieldsie"... A place my mother never let me frequent as a child, and a place I still don't frequent as an adult. None the less, many people I know do frequent this 'hood.' They say on Friday and Saturday nights you'll find the best of the best in this square...Especially
at the Blarney Stone.
Now the Blarney used to have no windows -- It was a barn like drink and food establishment, a one story exterior, with no loft. Inside you would find a mahogany bar, and lots of large wooden chairs and tables, corned beef and cabbage, and Guiness, and Bud on tap.... an Irish pub haunted by many, frequented by locals.

The no smoking indoors law created a changed: indoor bars famous for their food and regulars created outdoor spaces.

The Blarney Stone took the law instride and did a complete make over on the exterior, installing windows that meet street level and rise to nearly the roof. They put in a patio, a place for smoking patrons to eat, drink, and be merry. The patio has iron gates and tables, and greenery that blocks the view from the Avenue.

They did this place over right.

Every morning I usually see the proprietor sweeping the sidewalk and the gutter keeping things neat and tidy. But today in front of the Blarney, I saw a man, with one short arm. I couldn't tell if it was short because of an accident or birth defect... His clothing was neat and it looked clean, a Red Sox shirt ok---and he was carrying a small plastic bag with stuff in it. I don't know why I noticed him. I was looking for the Blarney Stone Sweeper, instead I saw this clean cut man leaning into a corner by a Blarney Stone window. What was he doing? I stared. Poor man, missing an arm, did he drop something? I felt my nose wriggle and my face squinch, I was really really really pissed. The one armed man, I had felt an aire of sympathy for, was turning and zipping up his shorts, seeing the wetness on the building set me off.
Of course when I reported this story to others, they laughed, hahahah. "Wasn't expecting that were you?" Reality check me out please. Whizzz


My second awakening came shortly after that.

I work for Nepolianna. Many times she has said things that I've called her on, "You have spent the last 10 minutes criticizing me." Nepolianna's ususal reply, "What did I say? When did I criticize you?"

Today, I witnessed another attack of Nepolianna against my co-worker, whom I'm glad to say didn't quit, but I am very worried about her (as I am about my self after today.)

Nepolianna began questioning D about what she was doing.
D replied,
"You left this on my desk. I thought this was what you wanted me to prepare for the meeting?"
Nepolianna sighed so loud I thought she was snoring."Why would you think I want that. I am going to discuss with you" _--- and so forth went the conversation, with Nepolianna's pitch so high I thought she was plucking her vocal cords... But, Earlier my co worker had called the boss to ask her a few questions and Nepolianna said she would be in the office shortly and hung up. Almost 2 hours later Nepolianna showed up. ---- and what a mood she brought with her. Later as my co worker was crying in the ladies room, Nepolianna turned to me and said, "D is losing it. I don't know why she is so upset." I bit my tongue. Later that day ---as I am supposed to leave by 1:30.... and it was almost 2 Nepolianna said to me, "You must run, I am not the one keeping you"
"Yes Nepolianna, you are."
"No, I am not!" she replied.
And I said to her, "didnt you ask me to do this at 1:29 when you knew I was due to leave."
But she didnt hear me because she didnt care to hear what I said. By the time I walked home I was stamping my feet like a child, I was just p.o'd. Why am I doing this to myself. Reality check me out. time for a little fantasy...I am going to do something drastic this week I can feel it. Skipping spell check ...maybe later.

little face

little one awake
your face says hello
you look ready to come
into this world

i see wonder
i see surprise
i see your dimpled chin
come now, we are waiting
with open arms
and great big smiles

it is amazing what new technology can reveal : )

Patience...

My daughter in law is over due for her baby. She said she thought he would be born today, but I said, "I am hoping not"; September 11th is like Pearl Harbor Day, but then again, 12- 7 --- was the date my husband and I started dating, and it was the date my father died, so maybe 9-11 could be the date this new life comes into this world.

I think when an important date comes into your life, it can be born into it. A date that you remember easily is a new life, a new home--. But there are some really important dates that just get tangled up into others. I am trying to figure out why this happens. Are those dates less important than others?
No, but is there something significant we do that determines days and dates that are remembered or saved and others discarded or forgotten or saved but just not mentioned..... is this determined by some extraneous calendar-- trained thought release... arghhh

Some 'times" are days that become muddled, like what day did New Orleans become a puddle? and what day did New Orleans fall and fail....? and what day, was there one specific day that this anarchy just happened.... it didn't happen in a day, it didn't happen in one night, it took a while...how long was the while ...the 4 days it took the ships to get there... ludicrous.... I have been reading so many papers on line --- so many good writers. So much tragedy, in so few weeks. I connect myself by reading, then disconnect by writing. I cannot write about it yet. I can only say one thing that I know is true. Some times people ignore "things" because it is easier to ignore than to make "good" --- am I talking right or wrong here? Patience, I remind my senses, look for the good -- it is there.


meanwhile back in this little world of ours...
My husband was watching TV the other night while I was babysitting. After I got home and into bed, he said, without any prior conversation, "They had the most ufo sightings in July of 1952. I could be part alien."

I felt myself grin,"that's all right with me," and we went on discussing intelligent life elsewhere...
later I reminded him, "I certainly hope so, I'd like to meet your real family someday." and we laughed. So I am married to a half-breed, part earthling and a seed from someplace else...

meanwhile my husband says, "we are on the edge," and it is true, as we are waiting for this baby to come, it is almost as bad as having one on the way ourselves. Patience patience....

To distract myself I am writing way too much foolishness, and avoiding house work..... which now I have to do.... Oh close the pool too.

Kisses (bad poetry) but fun

Kissing
Inspired by the radio… 100 top sexiest “things”…
Kissing was #1.

Personally, I think the sexiest thing is “The Look” …. However…


.

Kiss - Kiss - Kiss

Kiss Hello
one cheek, two
on the hand of a lady
the head of a child
the lips of a lover
the lips that smile
Kiss Good-bye-
On finger tips with a wave
blown in the air
over space.

Kisses kind
There is the peck,
Platonic, and then--
the slip
the tongue
the longest
wet, and succulent lips
mouth, neck, ears, eyelids
opened closed and round about
mouth to mouth
kisses melting

Hersey’s Kiss
Kisses silver
Kisses gold
Kisses clover
over and over
and over

Firsts Don't last

One child in high school
Three children home
Two children grown, not on their own
One grandchild
One daughter
One snuggle on my lap
One question
One statement
So many tasks
Consecutive days of First
Days quickly pass.

Firsts

Yesterday, Johnny started First Grade
He came to the house before school, but I missed him because I was still sleeping. He returned after school. He came over to me and put his head on my lap,”Grammy.” He wanted a snuggle.
His body seemed long, tall, his hair a darker blonde, cropped close to his head, longer than it had been,
in his white shirt and blue pants he appeared grown up,
not little anymore, a boy ready to explore, but the little one in him needed more, a warm lap, and a big hug.

Last night, I waited for him to come from his father’s.
They pulled up in the other Grammy’s car. As he stepped out,
he looked like a baby again, innocent face, thin arms and legs, blue cotton button shirt, crème colored safari shorts, and new white sneakers and socks. He hugged me again. I dragged his little bike upstairs, he rode it for only a minute as he said, “I can ride my bike without training wheels, the one at G’s,” he said.
I asked, “Did you ride it today?”
“No, I guess Daddy, well I guess,” he never finished his sentence and I didn’t ask.
“Daddy had Kim’s car today, but I wouldn’t ride in it. I don’t want to ride in Kim’s car.”
I didn’t ask him anymore questions. Maybe he wanted to keep his thought to himself, I don’t pry. I try to listen.
We read books; he took his bath, and made formulas.
We played Thomas even though I told him I didn’t know how.
We moved around track and set up the bridge and he said,
“See, you know how, you are playing Thomas!”
It was a hard for him to settle into rest, he tossed about on his bed, had a pillow fight, rubbed his feet against his dresser, stretched out his legs and his arms, “Keep the light on Grammy, I’m afraid of the dark”. Night came. “Maybe you should put out the light.”
He said it was a good day.
I hope day 2 is just as good.

This morning, Dianna went to school, she took the T. I am pleased. I need her to get her self there and home again, that drive was killing me.
I took her picture. She posed, “You haven’t taken my picture in ages.” Not so. She just forgets.
She has a purse this year.
“How do you carry a purse and a back pack?”
Suggestions:
“Put your back pack on your back and pick up your purse or put it into your back pack, what ever works for you.” I didn’t noticed what she did with it.
I think she is carrying it on the side.
I remember my first great pocket book, a saddle bag with two front pockets, a rich cocoa brown that went over my shoulder; I was into browns then…. Brown is coming back in---
Here, at home, I am, alone with the dog snoring, one son sleeping, not looking for a job, waiting for his child to be born, other son over his friends, the group of them are contemplating joining the service. I begged him no.

One child in high school
Three children home
Two children grown not on their own
One grandchild
One daughter
One snuggle on my lap
One question
One statement
So many tasks
Consecutive days of First
Days quickly pass.

whimp whimpers

September came in, I noticed but didn't. The world news, home news, family news, all news: grim, flooding, homeless, cancer, "the, you'll never be normal again," "i have great admiration for you," speech from a doctor who misdiagnosed my lyme disease, and still has yet to read my chart about my back surgery. "Massage therapy would be good for you, if you have the time and money." Massage therapy is great for everyone, Too bad I have neither time nor money. I need a note for work, a prescription for therapy, and my medication, too. I left the doctors with none of those things.
I have no idea why I am such a whimp about my own needs. Speaking up is what I need to do.

old love, the m word, and Smurfs

My kids say we suffer from old love. Arghhh they say, "you are sick,gross, you are old." I say everyone should be as fortunate as my husband and I. As we have grown older, we've grown closer: possible because we don't and never have played mind games with each other. We talkalot, we also struggle to communicate, and listen with out hearing at times, at other times we know what the other person is feeling because of the body language or the sighs or even the quiet, sometimes we just communicate with our eyes. it happened over our 29 years of marriage--- well almost...

Today is another sad Sunday for me because the man has to work, I have the day off. Sometimes it is okay, butsometimes it isn't. We can never just take off for a weekend. We can never go to family functions together and we rarely entertain as we used to because we don't have the same days off as other people. He saw it in my eyes this morning, my red eyes --- the sadness, the longing, the love.... he left me his car, his ultimate sacrifice, his - i want you to have a good time--- i do...but....

We do have our children though who entertain us immensely --- and whom we are trying to figure out how to escape from at times because children, even grown children don't realize that sometimes the parents need space. Anyway, I will be traveling today with my daughter and grandson --- I don't know if I will come home or stay overnight. Why am I so undecided? Because I would rather be home with my husband, but he has to work, so why bother. I never thought that being married would mean we would see less of each other. Marriage complicates things because you can no longer just be lovers, you become tagged, labeled: husband, wife, workers, parents, father, mother, dishwasher, laundress, shoppers, chefs, greens keepers, pool man/woman, dog walker, fish feeder, turtle tenderhearted, garbage man/lady, accountants, mechanics, computer junkie, junkette, coach potato, and lovers. I think I will just keep that last thought in my mind, although we are all those other things, above all being lovers keeps us together, it is all the trapping of being married that keep us apart. Whew hah!

an observation:
just something my 27 year old daughter mentioned the other day....
about those Smurf from years ago. "Times are different, no one commented on Vanity Smurf, how he was some what a gay smurf, and what about Smurfette, the only female smurf. What a slut. How do they make Smurfs anyway?"

more no reason

There was a time in my life when I thought that everything happened for a reason, every reason had some explanation, experience; every experience, Karma, good, bad, but never indifferent. Today, I don't believe this anymore. I believe experience teaches, but not that every "happening" is for a reason. Stuff that happens for no reason serves to show that there are times when control cannot be achieved, and prevention doesn't always work.

Not all is as it seems ---how many times have I read or said this?

Apparently healthy young people can drop dead for no reason at least until an autopsy proves otherwise. Apparently, thin people can be very sick, and fat people can be healthy.

My mother always said, "Who says life is fair?" "noone"

Life is hard, filled with choices.
Life is what you make it

My back is fr---n killin me.
I make choices to go on living.
My sister has cancer, she's battling.
She has to make choices to go on living.
But she has the right to share her feelings
they shouldnt be negated.

I wish she would come to Boston for a second opinion before she makes any drastic decisions.
decisions decisions decsicions
reasoning
that is

another learning expericence

New Orleans, Biloxi Ms, Alabama, all hit by a storm, all suffering homelessness, lawlessness, and fear rule. babies cry and die, mothers tears that can't be wiped, older folks without thier own... who what where when and why?
I asked my son, would you like to go and help, I will pay your way. No Ma he says I couldnt I wouldnt know what to do. I said, Someone will help train you.
I wish there was something I could do. I pray, I send in my thoughts strength. I send in my heart love for strangers to give them faith so they can go on until they can feel safe. Will they ever again?
What will they do, the government?
What have they done?
Not enough, but it will come. Please believe. I want to.

Babe Visits Humanity, A 9-11 story

Babe Visits Humanity
by Connell Mathews

Once upon a time in the Forest of Destiny there was a fairy named Babe. Babe had golden hair and green eyes and a special gift called heartshine; if you were unhappy and Babe smiled at you, you would feel wonderful, at least for a little while…anyway… Babe lived on a grassy knoll under a willow tree where she hung the treasures she found in the Forest of Destiny.
One day Babe woke up very early in the morning. She had no plans, she didn't feel like going anywhere, but her wings were fluttering. Babe put on her cape and said sternly to her wings, “Calm down, take it easy-- hey what if I sing?” But something was urging her wings to flutter and fly for no matter how she coaxed them to stop they just kept waving, and waving --- lots.
Babe sighed, "Oh, wings leave me be. I don't want to go anywhere, don’t you see."
She shook out her pea pod and left opened the flaps, then tried to lie down to take a nap. But as she did, her wings fluttered, and fluttered, lifting her up, up, up.
Babe moaned, "Stop. Stop wings, don't you see, I just want to relax."
She put on her fairy glasses, they were brown with beige spots and she thought, “Hummm, I wish I were a leopard and didn’t have these wings-- I could rest on my back and have some peace.” “I wonder, I just wonder, indeed,” she said aloud as she tried even harder to make her wings settle down. Just then, there came a strong sunbeam.
She called out to Mr. Sun, "Hey, are you playing with me? Are you the one making my wings wiggle and waggle like a bee’s?"
Mr. Sun beamed back, "I don’t think so, but maybe your wings are trying to tell you something you just can’t see.”
Babe tried to lean back in her pod, ”Is there something amiss in the Forest?”

Mr. Sun looked around, “Nothing I can see, everything seems just right, not a storm, nor a sneeze. But oh no, there I see over the mountains, past the ocean, on the island of Manhattan there’s a big commotion--- It’s the humans, they’re smoking--- there’s a fire, noooo--- they’re having a fight. My oh my, this is not right.”
Babe shouted, “What is it? Can you see?” as she threw off her cape setting her wings free. “I wonder, I wonder if there is anything I can do to help those humans muddle through?”
Mr. Sun looked down at Babe, “Little one, all you can do is pray.”
Babe replied, “I think, I think, I should go see. Maybe there is something I can do to bring peace.”
Mr. Sun called to Babe as she flew with sprite, “Please don’t go, for humans, their days are now dark nights. And if you don’t have a guide, you’ll never come back, and remember that lions roam those mountains in packs.”
But Babe couldn’t stop. Now she had a mission. She packed her fairy satchel and off she flew. Through the meadows, by the king’s palace, through the deep woods, under the waterfall, she flew and she flew letting her wings guide her well, “I don’t understand these humans. Fighting--- it is hell.”
Finally, she reached the Mountains of Seperatis. All she had to do was follow the Running River and cross the Downy Peaks, there she would find the island named Manhattan and all of humanity. But as she flew by the river’s mouth and reached into the Downy Peak, the sky grew gray, smoke made Babe choke and everything seemed to fade. Babe looked for a sign, but there was no Mr. Sun, nor Mr. Moon, the stars were blackened and she felt doomed. If she crossed over the mountains without a sign, Babe might get lost and never ever be able to return to the forest. She shuttered and wondered, “What am I to do? There’s no path, there are no clues.”
Just then, from out of the smoke came a lion. Babe peered at him and all his might. His thick mane glowed with a nice sheen, and he walked around her like a breeze. Babe flew high into the smoke hoping to get away, but it made no difference, his figure stayed.
Babe said, “I am Babe and who are you?” But the lion didn’t reply he just stared in her eyes.
His remained fixed and he suddenly growled, “Where are you going? Don’t you know about the towers?”
Babe stared at him, her eyes to his, “What towers? All I know is that there was a fight, my wings were fluttering all through the night. They have taken me here, and now I’m stuck, worst of all…. alas, I think, I am lost.”
The lion shook his mane, and showed his teeth, “On the island of Manhattan there was a terrible disaster--- men used the machines they created to take life away. The people of the earth are all up in arms, and everyone, everywhere, is afraid.”
Babe cried, tears dripped from her eyes, she could feel the lion’s pain. ”I want to go there, to the land of the humans, to see for myself, to see if there is anything I can do.”
But the lion said, “Don’t you see Babe, you can’t leave. You are not human, you are fantasy.”But Babe said, “I know what I am, but I also know of man. I know that they have dreams. I also know that finding a lost hat or a falling star or a kiss on the cheek or a tear in the eye is like magic to a human heart. And, I can only imagine the human magic that is taking place on Manhattan. I’d like to see it in action, even if it’s just for a minute. Just think, maybe, maybe, after this is over, some magic will linger among mankind so that years from now they will live in peace, without anyone to finger or a human that needs the ringer.”
The lion laughed at Babe’s silly rhyme, “I’ll tell you how to get there, but it will only last a night, for when the human sun rises you must close your eyes. If you don’t, you will fade away. The sun’s rays will become your grave.”
Babe fluttered her wings, and she sat inside his ear. She fell off to sleep where she rode without fear.
It was quite a while when Babe finally awoke. She sat on the rim of a hat, amidst lots and lots of smoke. She fluttered her wings and tried to fly, but they were frozen still. She looked for her fairy satchel to get her poppy stick to ride upon, but they had disappeared. Babe felt doomed. The lion was gone, and there she was, a speck upon a man’s hat, just a bit of dust in the sun.
The man held a briefcase in his arms and wore a beard, and a frown. His eyes were bloodshot and a little bit swollen, his lips were pressed together tight, they were peeling from dryness. Babe leaned over into his sights. But he couldn’t see her. She moved back up and sat on the hat. She wondered if he knew she was there, she wondered if it was just a dream, but her wondered ceased as she saw the devastated faces on the creatures of humanity.
She was in the thick of it, among the firefighters, and police, between the FBI and the scars of tragedy. She saw how gently they lifted soot, and beams, and passed bucket to bucket like leaves falling from trees. She watched as they touched each other’s shoulders, as they passed bottles of water, as they push back their tears and their fears, looking for others. Amazed, she gazed, unable to close her eyes, she watched past midnight and into the light.
Through the watching, she forgot the lion’s warning, but when daylight broke, the hat took flight.
Babe remembered the lion’s words and closed her eyes even though it hurt. When she awoke, she was under her tree, it was midnight in the Forest of Destiny. Mr. Moon looked down upon a dusty Babe and said, “My goodness, you are filthy, you are covered with clay.”
Babe looked up at Mr. Moon. She sat up and bent her knees, “I went to the land of humans today--- it was very unsettling and very strange. Their streets of concrete and tar were cracked, their buildings were bent, crawling on the ground like vines, their sheets of glass were like razors spit and split --- there was more---- The people on the streets wore suits that disappear into soot, and I could look inside them, see their feelings long and short. I could see their hearts, blue--- and strong---weeping and strained but moving on. I could see their eyes red and torn, from fear and longing going on too long. Their minds went white with wavering emotions of anger and pain --- There was so much disbelief, but there was relief --- for among the men and women that took to the streets, there was something between them as they could touch without having to speak. They were like rain, falling, but as they hit they ground they were together, a community out, strong, without struggle, melting, mending going on. It was a gift for me to see humans at their best.”
Babe paused, “I pray that this will be their last test.” Then she looked up at Mr. Moon. His eyes were closed, and he was nodding… me too….

9/22/2001

For no reason

How do you say to someone --- I need to be moving on, I need another job, this one is not good for me, I am stuck here, no hope of a raise, no sick leave, no vacaton time. I only took this job as a favor. It really wasnt my plan to stay forever. Oh Lord give me guidance.

I am not so indignant as I have been in the past. I wonder why? Have I calm my restless thoughts? No. Have I changed anything specifically to give me a sense of peace? No. Has anyone else changed? No. It is more like knowing I can't do anything about the way some things are even though I try.

September is on the door step, my favorite month, the month I married my husband. The month the air is cooler and the nights just long enough, the day just long enough too. September is a good month except now we do have the Memorial Day of present time, 9-11... tragic. I watched the National Geographic Story on 9-11 from before to after effects, I think it was 3 hours of TV, an extremely long time for me, but I was glued. Enchanted by horror, mesmorized by the planning and hatred. 9-11 was the last time I was so inspired, I wrote a Babe story. Perhaps I will go find it and post it. I wonder where that is? I lose so much of my writing it is horrid.
Everything on my laptop is lost. Stay away from Best Buy and for goodness saks... BACK UP! Yosemite Sam would be a great reminder for all who have data dear to them on a computer. I must go find a picture of him too.

Passwords and formidable challenges

The password for today is:
The premise of the password is the secret code that let's you into something, something special, not always a place, it could be a space, it could be a voice journal, or even your vehicle. But the use of the password that was fun for me as a child, inspired by AliBaba and the 40 Thieves, "open sesame," and further propagated in my brain through my virtual memory of the childhood game Relievio, and some faint memory of the Three Stooges, just isn't as fun anymore.

The use of the password has gone from a childhood amusement, to an overused, but necessary chore and a formidable challenge. It is a challenge because there are so many of them to remember in so many areas of living. I presently use, I think, 24 passwords; this will soon be changed.

I've tried to cut some of them out, but my jobs, my credit cards, my banks, my jounals, and some other techno devices, and my brain refuses to let me have the same password all the time.

For example, at my job, where I use one computer I must change my password monthly, no one can use the same password for 4 months, or the computer will inform you that you cannot use that password because you used it previously. It will even tell you where and when you used it. So, I have collected 4 passwords for use on the one computer I use at my first job. But those passwords are for my accessibility, what about the other "secret" passwords I know that I am not supposed to know because they belong to some other employee(s), well I have a collection of them, 8 to be precise. So I have 12 passwords from my first job.

At my second job, where I also use computers, there are passwords too. These passwords are community passwords that everyone who works in the office should know. They never change or rotate, however there are 6 passwords in that office that I need to keep in my password queue.

This brings me to my personal life, where I have over the years acquired numerous passwords. Currently I use 6 passwords for various reasons, forced to change my password because the company is upgrading, forced to change my password because I am not allowed to keep that password any longer ..., I've changed my password because I forgot the password I changed it to when I was originally required to change the password because that password was no long acceptable.

I don't want to change my password, I am tired of having to know all these passwords and what password goes with what. But, I see no solution, only more passwords.
Now what about pin numbers and user names?
Currently, I have 3 distinct personalities and oh yeah one assigned K number!

exhaustion

exhausted from my life, could sleep all day, too much to do, laundry never ending, straightening never ending, kids stuff never ending, work work work. i want to go see the brother's grimm. this i shall. i want to work on my novel and go to exercises... these things i want to do but am to exhausted to do. note: must do the things i am too exhausted to do first. bed time comes early. lyme disease in my joints. it is transient... painfull and coming back again. i can bearly barely which one is it keep my eyeys open.

changing blog design and keeping in a focus

decided to change blog design, the previous one was never aligned correctly, any new post was below everything else, dont have the time to fiddle with those kinds of things, investigating why when i have too many things to do, i am lucky i have quiet to just sit and write for a few. this seems to be working out better than i thought. trying to write every day for a few minutes, just writing out my thoughts where ever they lead me, my eyes keep watering, cold? sad? who knows. we bought a never printer yesterday, one for bus so he could print his labels, the old printer wont feed the label sheets correctly, otherwise it is fine. my laptop is still in the shop, i hate big companies, they lie. when you purchase a protection agreement ...well we believed what the sales man told us, he was a liar according the manager. and i dislike managers and business people who always think they are right, i dislike best buy, they think they are the super power of stores, please.... and what is it about these stores.... let's see...bed and bath and beyond that is a woman's store, yet best buy is a guy's store, female and male stores, why do i care.... it is a mere perception, what about sears what kind of a store is that, it certainly could be a metro sexual store if they upgraded their look.... some of their ads are ma and pa kettle for sure, is that midstream america, who do i think i am anyway liking pottery barn, the store for gay men, and pier one, who shops there? bohemian... Barnes and Nobles, where did that name come from? i have to call the dept. of labor... forgot to do that...and what about the rolling stones tickets..out ragerous... i cant sit in the rafters at the Garden...I am too afraid ill fall... and no way can i afford a ticket for 400 bucks....life goes on.

graduation

found this old picture from around 1992-3 ... that boy in the green sweatshirt graduated today. that boy that i call the f and a kid, it is a joke but not funny, but he is a wonderful son, and person. i'm happy the graduation part is over. now to go on with things.
the youngest in this photo is 14, two have children and one had a child on the way. where does innocence go? does it fade like wallpaper hit by sunlight or even just being hung... does it just one day disappear as the stone you walk by at some place, gone, you dont even know it, or realize it, just a space that was once full is now empty... when you lose your innocence does it hurt, or does losing it hurt you.... or is it like a chocolate bar, when cool it is hard, then warm it softens, too hot it melts, and isnt a chocolate bar anymore but something else, syrup that is gooey to some enjoyed to others just a big mess and worthless just trash. innocence, i wish i had mine back sometimes, it is easier to live when blind and ignorant and without this mind or is that a lie?

cold = watery eyes

hard days for no reason, just not feeling well, have a sinus cold, watery eyes, no energy. the pain in my hips has subsided a bit, had another nasty headache dont know if it was from the lyme disease or my back situation or the fact that my weight is out of control. I am out of control I must face this fact. Tired and have no time for myself without getting up and staying up at dawn, cant wait for things to level off.

tomorrow is a big day, son's h.s. graduation. invited my mom but she is already busy, she was already busy, she knew the date long ago, she could have saved it, but she didn't. i can't be sad because i cant expect her to be here for me, it has never been that way. i feel like she stopped being there long ago, not that she stopped advising me, to me there is a difference between mothering and advising, between parenting and mothering --- it is easy to be a mom, not for all women, there are many women who just shouldnt choose motherhood, there are many parents who are good parents but expect too much from themselves, then there are those who just well ... dont care about being a good or bad parent, they just are. time for reading

morning time

morning, alone no stress only I to get working and I to do for.
It is unusual, and relaxing, this space is my own, but it will not last, far and few between like bricks without mortar life goes on, building and breaking down, lifting and shifting. this is truly good, i like it. shows me how much i need a change. but September is around the corner, perhaps then.

oh i forgot

face painted by daughter. yes i drove around like this. it was wonder full

laughin

It's nearly 8 am. I've done dishes, laundry, and thought about the day. Need to take my shower, wake up my daughter, and just get on with things. Someone read this blog. I thought no one ever read it. That was interesting.
Note: people make assumptions all the time, shared opinions. I know I do... So what does that mean about people ... general statement: no one likes to be alone, human nature compares, why is it competition? is it one teaching another? It is difficult to not be a teacher when you know something.... many of us are teachers without being teachers. why cant or dont I find a teaching job? I think it is fear.... What is fear?
is there a standard? I am not in the box? who is not in the box? is he or she out of the box? what is the box?
why cant it be a ball?
if we think too much we can drive ourselves mad with thought
if we don't think at all others will think we are crazy or selfish or some other label
at this moment I am mad at the world, I want something I will never get without working at it. arghhh and then there is all the other bs that will come because ive made a decision, why cant decisions just be given to us at times,
decisions given to us arent always easy to take, but you adjust. the decisions you have to make and do well those are the most difficult.
i know why my husband is my best friend... because no matter how difficult things are, no matter how upset or frustrated I get, no matter how many curve and spit balls life throws at me, he is always here to say, it's okay, or what did you expect and he reminds me to laugh, he never ignores my pleas or phone calls that I make indiscriminatively since I've acquired a cell phone, and he understands my Mother which is something I've never been able to do.
Random note: I love the Boston Red Sox but I can't even get a ticket to a game. geesh where are those 1.50 bleacher tickets I got when I was a kid?

amuck

havent been able to get here much... never get to finish anything. i need to have only one job. what does someone do who gets herself into the position of having too much to do all the time and not enough time to enjoy life without feeling guilty. I must work on all this stuff. I am waiting to hear from the post office about a job offer, i dont really want it, but if they give it ill take it. i am disappointed at their lies. it is bs.

i like working at the community center but my boss has me over the edge with her micromanagment. I am tired all the time as i have lyme disease. i wish it would go away.
i am nervous about writing in here because i am worried about losing my stuff... i have been editing my novel. my dear daughter is going to be my editor lol...

.................................................................. 

Take 3 Deep Breaths

Gate: a barrier that can be opened -- gates let people and dogs and other animals in, but cats and teenagers often climb over or find a way around them. Gates obstructions, opened – closed – in - out – ajar---
Gates -- skiers, glide, fly through ---- alike but not alike are The Gates at Central Park. I wonder could I have cross-country’d through them?

Dee and Margie 

Times Square 

My Take on THE GATES ( Take 2)

My Take on THE GATES ( Take 2)

We arrived at the Port Authority at 11 am. Since it was a Sunday before a holiday we decided to see a show, walk through Rockerfeller Center, take a swim at our hotel, and save The Gates for the next day, Monday, the day we would return home. But late that night, as we peered out of our hotel window to the street below, snow was sticking and melting all over Times Square. We took a late walk to get snack.At that time I wondered, should we have gone today? It was snowing so hard, what would tomorrow bring? Wet slushy dripping mucky muddy?

Our motto was, “Whatever is going to happen is just going to happen, so don’t worry about a thing.” And that was just what we did.
As we walked past the Square the flakes were huge and stuck to my lens.




Here’s Dee and Margie

It was dark, and wet, and light, and snowy. But these pictures make me wonder, what is that orange, that red? Is it really bad film, I just bought it the day before we left. I’ll never purchase that again. Another side of me wonders, is that something else? At the very least I find it beautiful.