Dancing with the stars-dance off

What a farce.

I am sure that there are people who believe that some kind of justice was served up tonight in this 90 minute exploitation of advertising dollars and viewer patience, but I am not one of them.

I did not watch the show during the season. I watched a marathon or rather part of a marathon of it over the weekend. I was ill and not hiding from life...Anyway, I watched Kelly Monaco become more graceful and John Hurley become...Sigh...What is the word that I am looking for...Humorous?

John Hurley is funny. He was elegant during ballroom dancing, but at the end of the series, he just didn't have it. On the other hand, Kelly had it all-style, grace, confidence. It was wonderful to see Alec and Kelly pull off the Cinderella win.

Then there was this "dance off." Yes, tonight John and Christine or whatever her name was were much, much better, but isn't that the whole point of competition in the first place? On the right night, Kelly pulled off the win and then because someone didn't like the results, we had to do it all over again. What if the Bo Bice fans or "powers that be" had demanded a "sing off?" Good grief, the implications are staggering...

If we allowed that to happen with everything, we would never crown a Super Bowl champion, we would be competing and re-competing for everything. No World Series winner. No President of the United States.

I did not enjoy the show tonight. I never did like the co-hosts. I don't even know their names. The judges were fine, but all in all it was just a ratings ploy and a real shame. That's too bad, too, because had it been left alone, I might have watched this season for real. As it is I am sorry that I got suckered into watching it at all.

I do not watch any of the so called "reality t.v." shows. They are so much camera angles, editing and show and tell--watching Bobby Brown or Tommy Lee do anything but go to jail just does not interest me. I know better-Again. From now on, I'll just hit the power button to the off position.

Changing the litter box

This morning began like a real life.

Rise and shine at 5:05 a.m. when 18 year old let me know that it was time for his ride to work. We are sharing one car right now and it is so much fun. I mean I recommend having only one car when you have three licensed drivers, especially when all three work different shifts. It is also a lot of fun to only one car when both six year old and three year old have to be picked up from school within 15 minutes of each other and they attend school in different towns. Yep! One car is fun, but I digress.

I took him to work and then drove home. Round trip is about 35 minutes. Today is trash day, so I emptied the trash cans, gathered and bagged the plastic and aluminum recycling and got it ready to go.

Then I did something that I have only done a few times. I changed the litter box. I did it for G. I did it as a symbol of the way that I want our lives to be again. Sharing in decisions and not walking on egg shells. Sharing chores and me not relying on him to run all of the errands because I can't leave my home...My prison.

I bagged the trash, refuse, waste and recycling and realized that that is living. Life isn't about the little melodramas that we watch on television. The problems that are solved in 22 minutes-allowing for commercials. No television isn't life. Even news isn't life and most certainly "reality shows" are not life.

Life is about getting up and changing the litter box because it needs to be changed. That is as simple and base as it gets. I changed the litter box today and for some reason, it was like dumping the past, too. Right out into the dumpster where refuse belongs. A hurtful past is refuse and it takes a long time to bag it up and tie it up and toss it out.

I took care of a chore that I do not usually perform, so maybe G will take it as a sign that I am ready to get back to living. Anyway, the cat's appreciated it. Immediately after I changed it, they had to try it out. NO, I didn't clean it again.

Looking out the window

When I was in high school, I would sit on the living room sofa and stare out the window. The view was a South mountain on one side and if I sat on the other side of the sofa, the view was of the peaks were Chumash Indians once made their home.

I cannot tell you exactly what I thought about when I was staring out the window. I pondered many things. I have never lost this pastime. I stare out windows. The view isn't very important; I just stare. Of course I would prefer to have beautiful scenery or some beautiful architecture or something worth staring at, but it really wasn't necessary. I just stared.

I was staring out the window today, while fresh corn on the cob was simmering in a pot of water. I could hear the sizzle of the meat in the pan, but I was a million miles away. Exactly where I was, I do not know.

Lately when I stare out the window, I wonder am I watching life. In a way, I think that I am watching my life march by. I am not an active participant in life. I am a spectator. I once participated, but now I watch it happen.

Sometimes I watch television all day long. I can sit glued to the t.v. for five hours straight. I am a spectator in imaginary lives. I don't know why it happened or even when, really, but I have become content in waiting for something that is never going to arrive.

I am awaiting acceptance. I wait for it to come knocking at my door. I wait for it in the characters of the movies or television shows that I watch. I look for this in imaginary worlds. The strange thing is that ever since I discovered the meaning of life: the fact that I have to let go of the past-of hurts so deep and painful that I allowed them to consume several decades-basically my entire life...Ever since I realized that, I have discovered that I have not lived.

I have children. I can be a good mother. I can be a good wife. I can be many things, but while that pain consumed me, I gave up my life. Anger, betrayal, ill-placed trust ate everything that I held dear. Until now, I look around and I do not know how to live.

I do not have one friend. I gave up on friendships in high school. I have never had a friend. And this isn't about having a pity party-I am simply stating a fact. I have no one to invite over for a cup of coffee. No one to invite over for dinner. No one to call on the phone and tell that tears are burning my cheeks.

I have my children and they have been seeing me at my worst lately. Yelling. Screaming. Ignoring. I have a husband and he has been seeing me at my worst lately, too. Yelling. Screaming. Ignoring.

It is like I am fighting mad. I am angry at myself. I gave up. I finally realized the meaning of life and realized along the way that I gave up on it. I decided to settle for the television. I decided to let my kids sit in another room and watch what they want to. All I wanted was silence. No worries or concerns.

I didn't want to leave the house because people outside of my window are mean and cruel. I didn't want someone to yell, "free willy!" at me again. I do not know how to accept myself. And now...This minute...When I realize all that it has cost me to shut down, I do not know how to start living again.

The Mutha of all rants

I am all full up.

I am tired of finger pointing.
I am sick and tired of politics.
I am angry to the point of wanting to scream and if I do I am very afraid that I will look exactly like Piccaso's portrait. Just scream and scream and scream.

Now is NOT the time to point fingers. Now is the time to make sure that rescue efforts are working. It is time to insure that people are getting their food, water, clothes and a place to lie their weary heads.

I'm sick and tired of Jesse Jackson calling everything under the sun racism. Yea, there is racism in this world and it is shameful, but now is not the time to say that the color of a person's skin delayed hurricane assistance.

There was a breakdown. BUT now is not the time to discuss the breakdown. It is time to rebuild or build or house, help, hug. It is time to wrap arms around the tragedies that happened and make it right.

I'm also incredibly sick and tired of the insurance industry telling us how to survive. Telling us what to pay them for their policies and then when we need to use our insurance, they change the rules or invent additional fine print.

Insurance companies make billions of dollars. Their lobbyists are many and powerful. That is because the insurance industry can afford to pay huge sums of money to lobbyists, who wine and dine our representatives.

Well insurance companies are telling victims of Hurricane Katrina that their insurance claims will not be approved because THE HURRICANE DID NOT DESTROY THEIR PROPERTY. No say the insurance companies, a FLOOD DESTROYED their property. Thus anyone with hurricane insurance is kicked to the curb by the very insurance companies that have received premiums for hurricane insurance coverage for who knows how many years. This is nothing short of criminal.

Had there not been a hurricane, there would not have been a flood. Have you seen the cars and houses that insurance executives own? These large ticket items are purchased with money that they are stealing from good people who pay their premiums. Sky high premiums that net NOTHING OF BENEFIT.

Write to your congressmen. Threaten to cancel your insurance policies and find a company that isn't denying Katrina claims. Do this today. Do this NOW.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In 1982, I worked the floods of Marin County, California. Point Reyes was virtually destroyed. Mud and silt and I mean a wave of it flooded that beautiful town and homes were destroyed. It was no where near the devastation of Katrina, but it takes time to mobilize assistance. It takes time to move equipment and crews and supplies to devastated areas.

The crime of the Katrina devastation is that the Office of Emergency Services didn't have a plan in place to evacuate people who did not have transportation. Believe me, that will be discussed long and hard. The residents of the area who elected to "stick it out" cannot complain. There was ample warning-just not ample means for the poor to leave.

These things will be rectified. There will be better processes in place to evacuate people. You must let the system work. We must be part of the solution. Pointing fingers is only adding to the chaos.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Other than helping dig out, provide supplies and assist the victims, the biggest impact that we can have is to take the insurance companies to task for deserting the victims in their hour of desperate need. It is shameful that insurance companies get away with so much. Deny everything is their first line of defense. Then you appeal and reappeal and they hope to frustrate you and make you give up trying before you change the outcome. Well enough is enough.

No more drive through surgeries. No more denying hurricane claims by calling it something else. It is time to stop giving insurance companies our hard earned money. Are you with me? Then take pen in hand or pick up your telephone and hit them where they live-in the premium department.

Show Me the Way

Every night I say a prayer in the hope that there's a heaven
And every day I'm more confused as the saints turn into sinners
All the heroes and legends I knew as a child have fallen to idols of clay
And I feel this empty place inside so afraid that I've lost my faith

Show me the way,
Show me the way
Take me tonight to the river
And wash my illusions away
Show me the way

And as I slowly drift to sleep,
For a moment dreams are sacred
I close my eyes and know there's peace in a world so filled with hatred
That I wake up each morning and turn on the news to find we've so far to go
And I keep on hoping for a sign, so afraid that I just won't know

Show me the way,
Show me the way
Take me tonight to the mountain
And wash my confusion away
And Show me the way

And if I see a light, should I believe
Tell me how will I know?

Show me the way,
Show me the way
Take me tonight to the river
And wash my illusions away
Show me the way,
Show me the way

Give me the strength and the courage
To believe that I'll get there someday

Show me the way
Show me the way
Every night I say a prayer
In the hope that there's a heaven...

The little man

They were on the rooftop of an apartment building. One dozen, two dozen, three dozen-no one remembers how many men, women and children were there awaiting help. No one, not even the people themselves know how long they were on that roof waiting. No one knows how many prayers were said.

The water was a foot below the rooftop itself. Was it still rising? Would it begin to rise again? Would the rats escape the water and climb on the roof with the families? These questions run like a loop in the minds of the parents that are awaiting assistance.

The helicopter(s) were heard and seen many times. How do you prioritize the rescue of so many people? How do you chose which building or home or roof top you approach next or FIRST? There is no easy way to decide. You look for life, first of all and then you look for children. That is the first rule. Children first. And that is as it should be. Sometimes, there isn't room for "women and children first." Sometimes, you have to trust God in these matters.

There were seven young children on one apartment building roof. This was the next building to be evacuated-sort of. The crew communicated with the adults. "Children," they said, "We are here for the children."

The mommies and daddies mustered what little courage that they had left and kissed and hugged their little ones. They told their babies that all would be well. They told their children that they had to go ride in the helicopter alone. They told their babies that they would soon follow. They told their children that they would be there, soon. "Don't you worry, Honey," Mommy or Daddy said, "you go with these people and they will take care of you until I get back to you."

The helicopter lifted the buckets of children and then flew away. The parents huddled together. The parents waved good bye to their children. The wails of the parents were drowned out by the propeller. "Good bye, Baby! Good bye." Mommy called long after the helicopter was out of hearing range...long after it was out of sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The line was ten miles long or was it 50? It was a mass of humanity walking toward shelter. Families marching along the road. Displaced families with nothing to their name, but the clothes on their backs. A line of refugees that is seen on television in the United States beamed from all around the world. Refugees from Tsunamis, earthquakes, war. Lines of refugees. Yet this time, the refugees in the line snaking its way toward hope is in the United States. Yes, once again images that we do not expect to see of our homeland are beamed world wide for all to see. We hang our dirty laundry out there. We show our weaknesses and our skeletons.

The line is long and it is hot. There is little if anything to eat or drink. Just keep walking, they are told. Keep moving. There is food ahead. Keep going, you will have a place to rest your head. You will have water to drink. Keep going.

In the midst of the line is a little troup of seven. The leader understands and nods his head. He keeps his group moving. "Come on," he says, "we're almost there." He doesn't know where "there" is; nor does he care. He knows that there is food, water and a bed. "They" said so. He took them at their word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Days later, a helicopter makes it back to the apartment building. Trip after trip is made to the building and eventually all of the adults are evacuated. They have spent countless hours worrying about their children. Where were they? Who was taking care of them? Were they alright? Now finally days later...days that seemed like years later, they would be reunited.

Hours and hours later, the adults arrive in a shelter and begin looking. Their children are no where to be found. There is no record of where they are. There is no record of when they left. Records take time to prepare. There are no records. Survivors are lucky if their names are taken at all. This time, there are no propellers to drown out the wailing mother's misery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The leader keeps marching and herding his group toward the promise of food, water and a bed. He keeps going. Then suddenly, like God slapped someone upside of the head, an emergency worker asks this little man who he is with and who is taking care of he and his friends. The emergency worker is stunned when the little man says that he is taking care of all of them. The little man is six years old.

Perhaps the emergency worker was clued in because he payed attention to the fact that the little man was carrying his four month old brother or perhaps the little group of children all under the age of five was straggling behind the rest of the line. No one knows for sure, but this little man kept these babies together. He kept them fed and he got diapers. For days, this little man was left on his own to care for these little children and they were all just fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have not watched the Katrina coverage. It is relentless, heartbreaking and in a way a ratings ploy. When I do catch a glimpse, I burst into tears. The humanity is just too big, but when I did catch this story, I smiled. I looked at the little boy on t.v. and smiled.

There is a lot of noise coming out of Katrina's aftermath. Accusations of racism, slow response, et cetera. And there is this huge media machine latching on to the negativity as it always does. Yes, we are sure to get our daily overdose of "awful" played loud and clear on every major news organization. However, the people involved-the people directly affected by the Katrina's wrath don't need to hear that noise. They need to hear about six year old boys who keep the little kids in his building together until they can get back to their parents. They need to hear the ending to this story-as you probably have heard- The parents and children were all reunited in San Antonio. They all ended up in the same shelter.

I do not know if it was accidental or if records were finally created that made it possible for emergency management workers to locate the families and reunite them, but I know what I know: God had a hand here. He boxed someone's ears so that the little man would get help. He put the parents in a place where they would be evacuated to the same shelter.

Yes, the system is broken, but I can tell you from experience, it is not easy to coordinate assistance during a flood. Nothing moves. Everything shuts down. The system needs to be better; yes! it does and I get that. But the victims of Katrina don't need to hear how nothing is working. They need to hear stories of hope and inspiration. They need to hear about the six year old little man and his responsibility and courage. They need to take action like he did.

The system is broken or fractured, so you have to take steps to force it to work. The six year old little man did. This story of hope will give others the courage to fight to survive. Stop focusing on what isn't working and MAKE IT HAPPEN. Make the rescue effort work. Make the little man's story the lead story and not the last 30 seconds of a newscast.

God bless the victims of the flood. I pray that they will find the hope and courage that the little man has.

During times of trial

In 1970, a music group called the Brotherhood of Man released a song called: United We Stand. A few years later, the Coca Cola Bottling Company used the song in an advertising campaign. I can still see the singers climbing the mountain and singing the song.

I have not allowed myself to watch the events unfold. I cannot take anymore pain in the world. I do a little here and a little there and that is what I can do. But I know that people are hurting and that they need help. My attention right now is being paid to our troops and to fight hunger around the world. That does not mean that I do not care about the flood victims; it only means that my resources are already spread.

No matter what we do to help around the world, the important thing is that we are helping. We are trying to raise the comfort level of people who are not as fortunate as we are. I imagine that an African family from Darfur, Africa would be stunned by the size of our "portions." I have to check myself on this from time to time. I feel guilty for having so much. As long as we share the bit that we can, a child some where will have a better chance.

During times of natural disaster, loss or other extreme challenges to human souls, I recall this song. Some of the visions of the disaster relief effort in the South brought to mind the lyrics. I wish that I could have linked to a video of the commercial.

There's nowhere in the world that I would rather be

Than with you my love

And there's nothing in the world that I would rather see

Than your smile my love

For united we stand

Divided we fall

And if our backs should ever be against the wall

We'll be together,

together, you and I

For united we stand

Divided we fall

And if our backs should ever be against the wall

We'll be together,

together, you and I

And if the world about you falls apart my love

Then I'll still be here

And if the going gets too hard along the way

Just you call, I'll hear

For united we stand

Divided we fall

And if our backs should ever be against the wall

We'll be together,

TOGETHER, you and I

For united we stand

Divided we fall

And if our backs should ever be against the wall

We'll be together,

together, you and I....

Sumi-e defined

Jason was wondering what sumi-e is. This is the art of sumi-e. It is capitalizing on the use of a few brush strokes to make a picture. It is fascinating. My mom studied it when we lived in Japan. I have recently taken an interest in it and hope to become good at it. So far, I can only do little bamboo paintings. It is a beautiful art, no?

Five things I miss from childhood

I'm gonna tag my victims up front-before they can exit: Warrior's Forever; Chocolate Makes it Better; Enjoying the Ride; PLarge; Amateur Dad.

The five things that I miss from my childhood are:

1. My siblings. The last time that I saw my baby sister, I was holding her second oldest in my arms. He was a baby. He is just starting classes at university.
2. The last time that I saw my brother, he had emergency surgery on his brain and the fluid was being drained off of it-I had never met his wife or daughters prior to that. The are all lovely ladies.
3. The last time that I saw my older sister, was at G's and my wedding. Our tenth anniversary is May '06.
4. The last time that I saw my parents, I was telling them I was PG with Number One Daughter-who just turned six in July.)
5. The thing that I miss most about my childhood is the illusion that we were one for all-all for one. I thought that we would be together forever. Life takes over and viola. It was just "us"; the six of us for many, many years. Tours of duty moved us from place to place, but I liked that part. A new adventure. I get itchy feet even now, but our itchy feet and circumstances have carried us to different states and we don't have the opportunities that we would like to be together. There is one thing that I know: I will not allow my family to end up like this. I will do whatever it takes to see my children and their families. It should be an annual thing. Perry Como's Home for the Holidays is playing in my mind. :) "...If you wanna be happy in a million ways, for the holidays, you can't be beat Home Sweet Home..... For the holidays you can't beat HOME SWEET HOME." That is my favorite Christmas carol.

Temptation

September 11th looms. The anniversary of the fateful day when all hell broke loose in the United States is close enough to bolster security around our country, in the air and on the sea, but apparently someone has forgotten what transpired.

The Grand Canyon is Mother Nature's palette in the Southwest. A beautiful mixture of Mother Nature's ability to create as well as destroy...After all, the Grand Canyon was basically created by erosion.

The artist's rendering of the proposed glass-bottomed walkway triggers numerous red flags in my heart, mind and soul.

We do have to live our lives. We have to NOT FEAR, but this is taking fearlessness to an irresponsible level. The new walkway screams, "Here I am! Come and get me." It is not the motto of choice.

The really hard part of nixing this project is that it is a Native American idea set to increase tourism of reservation property. This could be touchy to negotiate as we have taken so much from them.

I do not believe that there is a way to make the walkway reasonably safe. It simply juts out over the canyon. It is an easy target for an airplane. Heck, it looks like it is an easy target for a hail storm!

We can live fearlessly after the events of 911, but we must also create and live responsibly. Perhaps the glass-bottomed walk-out was appealing pre-911, but now, it is simply a "target" and a soft one at that. Back to the drawing board, I say.

The meaning of life

I found the answer to the meaning of life. It finally dawned on me after another sleepless night.

Things happen in your life that make life very difficult. You can spend a lot of time trying to reconcile the past. Or. And this is the important part OR you can have a wonderful rest of your life.

I sit here sometimes lamenting about how childhood abuse, date rape, battered woman survival have made my life a living hell. But the fact of the matter is: I, yes, me, I made my life a living hell. How? By being stuck back there....In stuff that happened in the past.

This might sound 'simple' and you might be thinking, "well, DUH.", but honestly, when you are in the midst of flashbacks, it just isn't so easy to see the forest for the trees.

I was sitting here watching Brian's Song on HBO. Real tear jerker and I thought, "I hope that I don't lose G like that." Brian Piccolo died when he was only 26.

But I have been dead. I have been dead in this body. Paralyzed by things that I never had control over at the time. BUT and this is important...I can take control of it now. So what? So what? So what! It happened. It's over. They are gone and long out of my life. WOW.

Amazing realization. I cannot believe how long it took me to learn this. I can just let it go.

I gotta go now. I have to go play with my kids; fly a kite; blow bubbles; clean the house; make a pot of coffee-live MY life. It is MY life. WOW.

What one fears~one destroys

One week ago, Sunday, it was 10 p.m.-ish and we returned home from a little jaunt. I saw the movement in our backyard first. I knew immediately that it was a raccoon family. One, two, three-oh three is Mommy-four. Four. Uh, no wait, five. Holy gray stripes at night! Um, nope, uh, one more. A half dozen. Six raccoons have taken up residence in our backyard.

Number One Daughter and Little Big Boy were fascinated by the follow the leader parade that took place before our headlights. And this supplies answers to many questions that we have been pondering all summer.

Number One Daughter has seen "eyes in a gray face in the sticks." 'Look Mommy! Look!!' Well we thought it was a stray cat. Bessie has been attacking the brush pile since late spring and barking up a storm...cats; it has to be cats, but now we know better. We have raccoons.

I am a lover of children, nature and wildlife and animals in general. These are my passions. (Sorry G-you know that you are in the top five, though;) I am enraged when communities discuss the "encroachment of wildlife" in their towns and backyards. The discussion begins and then local governments decide that it is time to take action to "purge the intruders" from their midst.

Listen, WE encroached on them. We have taken their habitat away. What do people expect? That interstate was once prime woodland or your home is located on what was once a deer's bed. You get my point. I am very partial to us finding a way to cohabitate with animals. It is not only the native american blood that courses through my veins; it is that I have lived with wildlife and it can be done without risk as long as you follow the rules.

Rules like-don't try to domesticate wildlife. Don't try to approach or pet wildlife. It really is that simple. Just give them their three-foot circle and they will give you yours: if they are healthy they will stay out of your way. It boils down to respect for one another.

Raccoons are interesting creatures. They are beggars or rather they learn to beg. They know that they are cute and that you will fall in love with them. Mommy raccoons know that you will part with loaves of bread and piles of popcorn if she brings her little ones to call on you. After all, you are a simpleton. You are human. "Hi, Human. Gather bread, Human. Feed my kits. Good Human; good Human."

Let's bust the biggest raccoon myth right here and now: Raccoons do NOT wash their food. I know what you are thinking; you're ready to click right out of here. Yet, I assure you that I am telling the truth. It is cute and it looks like they are washing their food; I agree, it really does look that way. In actuality, raccoons do not have saliva; thus, they wet their food to make it easier to eat. That makes it all the more entertaining to me.

Well we have our six friends and I am sad. I do not want to remove them or kick them to the curb. However, I have to take care of Number One Daughter and Little Big Boy. If one of the raccoons becomes rabid, well the possibilities are not pretty.

Lois Lane had a rabid raccoon visitor recently and that is what made me realize that I will have to do something. She explained that the raccoon family would leave of their own free will if I place a radio near their nest or den or whatever their home is called, they will leave. The radio has to be turned up very loudly and tuned to talk radio. Interesting. Who leaves first: the neighbors or the raccoon family? (Can I tell you who I would prefer left first?)

There are many feeling running through my mind. I adore raccoons and have seen many and have resided in forests with a few. They are cute. They are not and do not make good pets. I know what must be done, but I don't want to do it. I will call the DNR and ask them to come and trap the family and relocate them, but I keep putting it off. I still have that nagging feeling that we should be tolerant. We are in their neck of the woods. (Actually, we are three blocks from a big lake-a great lake even, but we are also located in a city. They must have taken a wrong turn at the turnip truck)

Sharp shooters are shooting deer in cities and towns in my state because they get into backyards and walk down city streets. People hit deer on highways and roadways all of the time. It is possible to see them before they get into your line of sight, but you have to be looking for and watching out for them. You can see them on the shoulders or in the tall grass or next to the trees in woods or forests.

My quandry is this: I made a life protecting wildlife and nature-natural resources. I do not want to move them. Everything in me tells me to let them be. We took away their food sources, their homes, their habitat. I do not know what to do, but I know what the Native American blood in me says:

If you talk to the animals they will talk with you and you will know each other.

If you do not talk to them you will not know them,

and what you do not know you will fear.

What one fears one destroys.
~Chief Dan George

Men and their blogs...

My husband has decided to join 'blog land.' It makes me happy. Blogging is a fine pastime. An interesting way to meet people that you wouldn't ordinarily meet. A good way to vent, dream or fantasize about almost anything.

So I would like to introduce you to my husband, Warriors Forever . He is the former Executive Producer for the SportsAmerican Radio Network. He has rubbed elbows with some incredible sports talents in media and on the field of play, including Kevin Harlan and a certain green and gold clad number four superstar from the frozen tundra.

That is impressive, even to me, but the role that he really excels in is that of husband and father. He gave up the glory of sports to head into a medical career, which would allow him to spend more time with his family. In that way, he is a lot like Moonlight Graham. Moonlight Graham played one inning of a baseball game, as I recall. Although he was awesome at baseball, he gave it all up and became a doctor.

G's favorite number is four. That is interesting because Paul Molitor, G's all-time favorite baseball player was number four and Brett Favre is number four. The most amazing thing about the number four in G's life is that in numerology, I am a number four. I'd like to be a ten, but I will settle for the number four because that is what he likes.

I hope that you enjoy reading his blog too. Feel free to report back any little thing that I should be made aware of ;)

You might also enjoy, Webb's Just a Sexy Boy, truth be told, I am the one who he refers to in his first post; I used to do this to help him get over his shyness. Number One Daughter is his God Daughter.

And I have been visiting a new blog: Sdwynd's Ramblings and Musings. His "grasshopper" was diagnosed with autism and the family is sponsoring a walk for a cure. Please visit his blog and bookmark it so you can offer support and donations if you are able. And DO check out his music link. He rocks for Jesus. Too cool.

You can also help Amateur Dad right now. He is working on a novel and would like feedback. It is an interesting read and I recommend it if you haven't checked out Dancing Among the Fireflies, please do and be liberal with your comments.;)

And here is a blog that you should bookmark. It's by an Aussie daddy who is a poet, prankster and proud father of one with another on the way. You MUST work back to the It's a BIG Ad post; not only is it worth the trip, but you will laugh out loud. Drop by and say G'Day, Mate or Quark Quark...you will have to read his posts to get that one;) Chocolate Makes it Better.

These are the blogs that make me smile, think or shed a tear or two. It depends. Men blog and it is a good thing because it lets us get into their minds. It helps us understand and surrender. Their laughter, joy and pain is real and raw. I enjoy seeing the world through a man's blog. Sometimes it helps me understand G or 18 year old a little more. That is what life is about: understanding. When you understand, you can assist or encourage. This 'cyber-village' is all right.

Sammie

Sammie, originally uploaded by SingAsong.

I stole a link for Sammie's pictures from Lemonhead's blog. Isn't Sammie the cutest little parakeet? The size comparison here is amazing. This baby against the back-drop of a human nose is amazing. Sammie's owner used photoshop software to enhance the photo. If you click on Sammie's picture, you can see SingAsong's flickr photo album. It is worth a gander. (Pun sooooo intended.)

Turn it Up or DOWN~RIGHT NOW

I have added music to my blog. I cannot control the volume, so you need to do it now before you get shocked:)

Right now it's Counting Crows-Hangin' Around:)

Earlier, I had Personal Jesus on by Depeche Mode. Thenit was the Dream Academy's Live in a Northern Town. You can see the video on the right gutter. The videos are not always viewable, but the music is good usually.

Trust the Gorton's Fisherman

It was dinner time and everyone was hungry. In fact, we hadn't had a meal all day long. Just various snacks and that made everyone even more ready for a good meal. It wasn't gourmet, but it was decent. G threw several bags of this and that into the oven to heat and we were going to enjoy a salad, too.

We got to the table and barely took our seats before we started grabbing the chicken clods and fries from the glass platter on the middle of the table. I mean we were shoveling food onto our plates like we had been stranded on a desert island with nothing to eat and no way to catch a meal either. Yeah, we were Starvin' Marvin' and you better just stay out of our reach for the platter of food.

After I had gobbled one of the chicken nuggets-that in itself should be an indication of how famished I was. I do NOT, repeat-DO NOT-eat anything that has been flaked and formed. Well after I downed one of the mini hockey pucks, I realized that there was far better fare on the platter. Yeah, it was charred, but charred beats flaked and formed any day. Yes, these little drops were just for G and me...Breaded mini shrimp. Yum. Yum.

G and I split the little golden, I mean black, morsels in half and placed them on our plates. We ate them greedily and more than one fly was swatted into the middle of next week for attempting a landing on one of these little dandies.

G left the table and returned with tartar sauce. He glanced at his plate, "HEY! I had 18. There were 18 shrimp on my plate. Now there are only 17; you give it back." I explained that I had not taken his little shrimp and that it was just pathetic for him to try to get one off of my plate by faining that I had stolen one from his.

"Mommy, MORE!" Little Big Boy ordered. More milk. I don't mind that he doesn't say please every time. It is an order that I wouldn't tolerate from anyone else. Maybe it is because he is the baby of the family. Maybe it is because his voice is just too sweet to see it as anything, but a cute little request, but I rose from the table and filled his glass.

After I replaced the jug of milk in the frig, I looked at my plate and at least five shrimps were missing-and I know that they didn't go to school 'cause it hasn't even started yet-in our neck of the woods anyway. Well, I looked accusingly at G and he shook his head no-no he said without a word, I did not take your little shrimps.

Well someone get on the phone and find the Hardy Boys! This was a real stumper. Our kitchen is little. Our table has just enough room for five people plus platters. We were practically sitting in each other's laps, for Pete's sake and our little shrimp were disappearing before we could say, "Trust the Gorton's fisherman."

Then, quite suddenly and stealthly, I noticed a little hand flash over to G's plate. Tiny fingers stole a little shrimp. I watched the culprit do it again. And again. And again. The thief had revealed himself...

I caught G's attention and tossed my head for him to watch what had been transpiring right before our eyes.

Little Big Boy's hand reached right over and grabbed a shrimp while we were talking. Then he would reach over to my plate and take one from there too. It was all very fair and he was taking equally; we have raised him well. Share and share alike. He took them like they were his. Very matter-of-factly-with no intention of deception at all. He was hungry and he knew where the best tasting stuff was.

G and I sat there and smiled at each other. You know that smile of knowing parents. We let him finish off all of our shrimp. It was entertaining. It was innocent. It was thievery! Oops. Lost it there for a moment. He took the little shrimps and it was all good. He just wanted "MORE." It is his way.

Redwoods

This is my retreat.

Where I love to hide.

Nothing is big when you bring it to a redwood.

The pity party didn't last long. My G is far too wonderful to allow me to wallow in it. Did the worm get 'cha? Got us sort of, but we actually were protected...whatever that means. We lost nothing but a little time. No worries.

Personal pity party

Well.
Well. Well. Well.
That's the way the cookie crumbles.

The potential trip into the "real world" no longer exists.

It is funny...remember that I said I was going to give it up to him? Well, I guess that I took it back along the line.

It was going to be third shift at a hospital. Admitting. Great benefits. A chance to work fulltime without taking away from my kids. No daycare expenses, but if there would be, the hospital subsidizes the cost. It was a chance for a new career. The others take too much away from family life. So I must have taken it back from God. When I looked at it from all sides, it looked so great and like the answer to prayers. What I didn't realize is that after the awesome two hour interview and positive feedback, that the real answer was going to be, "no." Where did it derail and why does it matter so much?

After careful consideration, I know that if it had worked out, it wouldn't have worked out. Crazier hours than I have ever worked, etc. But it is no longer a possibility and the only thing that I can think of is: It's time for a little pity party. sniff. sniff. Yeah time to have a personal pity party.

Whiskeytown Falls

For almost 100 years, a little bit of Heaven has eluded mass detection. It makes me a little bit sad that it was rediscovered. In Whiskeytown, California, a 400 foot waterfall was discovered. It had been seen before, but only by a handful of people who didn't mark it correctly and didn't revisit it. Anyway, it was discovered untouched and unblemished and for the first time in 20 years, I am planning a hike into the California wilderness. Back injury compounded by back injury made me leave the outdoors that I craved. If the discovery of a waterfall is what it took to take me back, then so be it! I am so excited that I cannot contain myself.

I showered in waterfalls...in the back-country...bathed in pools so wonderful and natural that it would make you weep. I will be there. I will. I want to witness the beauty of falls that are untouched by man.

I collect Santas

A few months back, I wrote about 18-year-old and my stay in a homeless shelter. He referred to it for many years as, "the time we lived in the church." I smile when I say that. I have no shame from that time. Well I do not feel shamed about it now. Sure it was difficult and in its way very, very debilitating, but it was also a catalyst for better things ahead and better times.

We went into the shelter in October, so the holiday season was closing in and finances were tighter than tight. I completed a wish list for 18 year old who was in K-5. I didn't want to complete a survey for me, but they said, you need pajamas, so I did give them my size.

We got out of the homeless shelter and life moved on. I think that I forgot about the survey. Christmas was tight; I managed a few small gifts for my son.

Well as Christmas drew closer, K-5er and I were hanging homemade decorations that he made in kindergarten. While we were working, someone buzzed our apartment. It was a worker from the homeless shelter. Now, get this-I was more embarrassed to see the homeless shelter in my home than I was to see her in the homeless shelter. We didn't have furniture or anything, but I had a roof over our heads and it was in a nicer neighborhood. I felt guilty that we had a home. As crazy as that sounds, I felt guilty that I had so much after having had so little.

Well, she came up and had a couple of bags with gifts. K-5er and I had fun removing them from the bags. The lady went downstairs and then she was knocking on our door. Well we opened it and there were two young men with her and they had a Christmas tree:) WOW. I was so surprised. We didn't have one yet. I had strung lights in a cone shape and had intended to use that for a tree unless I was able to find a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Well we didn't have to.

On Christmas morning, we opened gifts and it was very nice. There was a box for me, too. It was a clothes box, so I guessed that it had the pajamas in it. They were and they were warm and cozy. But also in that box, tucked into the pajama top was a Santa ornament. Just Santa's face. It had the most soulful eyes of any inanimate object that I had ever seen. There was a note that sent us the giver's prayers, too. I was beyond touched.

I have loved Christmas all of my life. I love it for reasons that I cannot express, which is difficult for someone who prizes their command of language and pen. But that is the Christmas that I began to collect Santas. I am not a typical collector of Santas. I do not collect every Santa in sight so that I have a huge collection. No, the Santas that I collect have to have interesting eyes...soulful eyes. Eyes that see beyond pain and all the way to possibility.

The Christmas that in many ways could have been the worst Christmas actually turned out to be one of the best. Not only for me, but for my now 18 year old. That Santa ornament has needed a repair or reglue here and there, but it remains my favorite of all of my Santas. The love on his face must have been hard to capture in plaster and paint, but it is there.

One day, I will have a 365 day per year Christmas room. I am almost finished collecting a tree for every room. I think that I need one more for the kitchen and I will have enough. In a prized place in the Christmas year 'round room, I will place the Santa face ornament. I think of it as my 'homeless Santa'. You could not look into those eyes without finding home.

I wish it were Christmas

I wish it were Christmas.

The world is kinder.
The hearth is warmer.

Life is richer.

I wish it were Christmas.

If it were Christmas,

Everyone would take a deep breath,

And wonder at the glitter.

I wish it were Christmas.

Christmas today.

Christmas tomorrow.

Christmas forever.

Casey's letter home

Cindy Sheehan demands that President Bush meet with her to discuss her son's death in Iraq. Casey Sheehan had a conversation with his mother before he shipped out to Iraq. This is the conversation as described by Cindy:

"I begged him not to go," she said through tears. "I said, 'I'll take you to Canada' ... but he said, 'Mom, I have to go. It's my duty. My buddies are going."'

Casey was a soldier and he viewed shipping out as his duty. That should be enough to calm his mother's fears. She is blaming President Bush for murdering her son. He did not build a bomb and place it next to the road. He did not fire a bullet. He did not grab Casey out of his life and make him a soldier against his will.

Casey was the kind of man who would throw himself on top of a grenade. At 24-years old, he understood what honor is. He made the ultimate sacrifice for the Iraqi people who have been unable to protect themselves from tyranny for decades. He also gave his life so that we can live our lives without the fear of terrorism. It is every where. He made it a little harder for terrorists to attack civilians in other nations. He did not die in vain.

Mass graves have been found in which innocents have been buried-some of them alive. Cindy Sheehan needs to consider the the conditions that the Iraqi people where found living in when our troops entered the country. Mass graves were found in which innocents have been buried-some of them while they were still alive. Men were taken from their families and tortured and murdered without reason. Women cannot show their faces in public.

My 18 year old son has enlisted. Oh my gosh, I am scared to death. I told him that I do not want a flag. But I also told him-after many, many discussions in which I tried to talk him out of enlisting-I told him: I'm proud of you. I'm really proud of you.

It is a very scary time in the world. If my son feels that he can make a difference in making it safer, than I need to listen to what he is telling me. It is his right--as a man. I hope that he is successful for the sake of his children and his siblings.

Oh, I understand Cindy's pain, but it is time for her to honor her son's memory by honoring his acts of manhood. He was a soldier on duty in a country that desperately needs policing. If she takes her son's wishes into consideration, she will pack up and go home. There she can start a scholarship in her son's memory. This is most likely how he would prefer to be remembered. He said as much when he told his mother, "Mom, I have to go. It's my duty. My buddies are going." He said it all right then and there.

Are you sure you want to delete this?

Of course I am sure that I want to delete this. Computer, you think that you are real...Alive... Intelligent. You, Computer are hardware...With some software to get your hardware rolling.

Another pop up box:

Are you extremely, positively certain that you want to delete this?

Yes, nitwit. I am positive-extremely so- I DO. I DO WANT TO DELETE THIS.

Click okay. Okay.

Hey, uh, hmmm. What happened to the audio? Uh, Computer, what happened to the audio? Why can't I hear anything.

Computer: I asked you four times if you were sure that you wanted to delete that.

Me: Computer, loyal friend, why didn't you tell me that I needed it?

Computer: You ignorant wench-there was a message right below my caution to you. The message read: if you delete this, it will change how some programs operate on your computer. You are a nincompoop.

Is it me, or do computers sound a lot like Hal from 2001 Space Odyssey?

I cannot hear anything any more. I cannot play DVDs or CDs. I cannot find our original discs that would allow us to reload everything. Microsoft Word and other accessories are gone, too. That was from my last run-in with the delete button. You would think that I would have learned my lesson, but NO.

Sigh. I need a life.

Survey says-Edit

Karen-Lovin' the Ride tagged me. There are two articles. This one is shorter. The one that follows has a lot of detail.

You decide which you prefer to read and thank you for reading my blog.

25 Years Ago: August 1980- I was working in the most beautiful places on Earth. I not only worked outdoors, but I lived outdoors. I breathed fresh air in places that hadn't seen a car or any other vehicle. I hiked into worksites and showered behind waterfalls. I bathed in natural pools with biodegradable soap. I ate miner's lettuce and taught back country survival skills. I lived, worked and breathed in a place that was as close to Heaven as one person can be-literally and figuratively.

20 Years Ago: August 1985- I launched my second career-had to leave forestry behind because of back injury. Radio Personality was a great replacement for forestry...believe it or not.

10 Years Ago: August 1995- G asked me to marry him and it changed my life.

5 Years Ago: August 2000 - I was teaching Number One Daughter to walk.

Yesterday: I was inconsolable.

Today: We cooked on a "new" electric stove from freecycle; we haven't been able to cook in our kitchen ever! We moved in last October and began renovations immediately.

Tomorrow: We are painting.

5 snacks I enjoy: Watermelon; pretzels; tomatoes off of the vine; chocolate milk and popcorn

5 (only five? why only five???) bands that I know the lyrics of MOST of their songs: The Bodeans; Poi Dog Pondering; U2, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, Journey; Styx; Loverboy; Foreigner; Supremes; Dion; The Grass Roots

5 bands that I have introduced on stage: The Grass Roots; The Turtles; Blood, Sweat and Tears; Little Eva-who loved 18 year old and gave him gifts while we were backstage in her trailer...she hugged him very tight;) and G introduced Neil Diamond on stage.

5 things I would do with $100,000,000: 1-Buy dream homes for my siblings, parents and self; 2-establish the Mike Bortz Memorial Scholarship fund for children of FBI agents who have been killed in the line of duty; 3-start an orphanage; 4-launch a children's foundation to stop hunger, abuse and neglect; 5-Launch a battered woman's shelter.

5 scorn-worthy habits I have: 1-yelling; 2-procrastination; 3-day dreaming; 4-slouching; 5-not believing that I am worthy of anything good or of value.

5 things I like doing: 1- being with, teaching and loving my children 2- writing; 3-radio personality; 4-relishing the view of mountains and the smell of salt water simultaneously; 5-live & work in National or State parks

5 things I WISH I could wear: 1-a halter top! 2-ONE of Audrey Hepburn's ohsotight and stunning dresses; 3-short shorts; 4-swimsuit minus shorts or other cover up; 5-anything in a size that has only one digit.

5 TV shows I like: 1-Dawson's Creek-I can't let it go. 2-Nature documentaries; 3-Home remodeling educational shows; 4-Sex and the City; 5-Friends

5 movies I like: 1-Little Women w/June Allyson; 2-You've Got Mail; 3-Roman Holiday; 4-The Court Jester w/Danny Kaye; 5-Fried Green Tomatoes---TAWANDA!!!!!! LOL

5 famous people I'd like to meet: 1-Tom Hanks; 2-John Grisham; 3-Dr. Phil McGraw; 4-Erma Bombeck-She passed away ages ago, but she is largely my inspiration for writing; 5-Charles Dickens

5 biggest joys: 1-my husband and children; 2-mountains; 3-Pacific Ocean; 4-CHILDREN; 5-writing

Other tidbits about me:

~I hate it when people swear on their blog.

~My favorite book: David Copperfield

~G is my best friend...our friendship was four years strong when we first kissed. I have known him longer than any other person in my life-other than my siblings.

~I am empathetic to a fault--easily hurt, I not only feel other's pain, I make it my own.

~I was a happy person, easily amused, easy going and laughed a lot; I hope to find that "true-self" again.

~I have no regrets when defending and protecting my children.

~There are/were people in my life that I will never forgive.

~G and I were featured in a Good Housekeeping article about women who date/marry younger men. (Sandra Bullock, Madonna, Courtney Cox and others were the primary article....but G and I were in there, too.) I have a goofy smile on my face-remembering it.

~When I was at the height of my career as a radio personality, I received proposals from fans who I had never met.

~A fan of my show "stalked" me.

~The stalker once coaxed my then seven year old son to open a locked door and let him in. He eventually landed in prison because of it.

~The first fan letter that I ever received was from a prison inmate who listened to my show while he was working on a road crew. He wanted me to "wait for him."

~I love to cook and my specialty is homemade flour tortillas and "pinch food" with lots of fresh cilantro.

~I have held too many animals in my arms when they passed away.

~I am clairvoyant-not always, but enough to respect my inner voice.

~If you visit California State or National Parks, you will probably walk on a trail that I helped blaze.

~If you watch a PBS special on Salmon spawning and see a crew removing rocks from a Salmon ladder, you are watching my crew in action.

~If you visit Muir Woods near San Francisco, you will see a redwood wall that my crew built to protect the river bank from erosion.

~If you visit Bodega Bay and are handicapped, you can travel in your wheelchair all the way to the ocean because my crew built the handicap access trail.

~If you visit Angel Island in San Francisco Bay, you will visit a historical island that was the "Ellis Island" of the West Coast-we restored most of the buildings and grounds.

~If you visit the Los Padres National Forest in Ventura and Los Angeles counties, you will be in the first national park that I ever worked in. This is where I fell in love with forestry.

~I once went out on a roof to keep someone from jumping off of it.

~I was once pinned down by three grown men while they encouraged a mentally challenged co-worker to assault me. I fired all of them.

My favorite tree: Redwood. My crew stood finger tip to finger tip and we could not reach all the way around one-my crew was 15 members.

Favorite picnic spot: Inside a redwood. Fifteen adults sprawled this way and that and there was room for more:)

~I once got out of a vehicle in full uniform and ran two miles with new recruits to encourage them to keep going.

My favorite mountain: Grand Teton

My favorite ocean: Pacific

My second favorite country: Japan

My biggest fear: I will never find myself again; that PTSD will define my life forever.

~I used to sing and dance a lot-I miss it.

~My all time favorite song: You've Got What it Takes by Dave Clark Five.

~I am the only sibling without blue eyes. Mine are hazel and often look amber.

~My favorite color: violet.

~My mother's family is from Mexico.

~My great-great paternal grandfather married a Cherokee.

~I was born in California; my siblings were born in Tennessee.

~If you ask Little Big Boy where he was born, he replies, "I was born in the USA." He says it matter of factly. If he feels so inclined and you leave him alone after he anwers, he will start to sing the song.

~I am not graceful-I am a bull in a china closet.

~I am always barefoot.

~I love Disneyland.

Survey says...

25 Years Ago: August 1980- I was working in the most beautiful places on Earth. I not only worked outdoors, but I lived outdoors. I breathed fresh air in places that hadn't seen a car or any other vehicle. I hiked into worksites and showered behind waterfalls. I bathed in natural pools with biodegradable soap. I ate miner's lettuce and taught back country survival skills. I lived, worked and breathed in a place that was as close to Heaven as one person can be-literally and figuratively.

20 Years Ago: August 1985- I launched my second career-had to leave forestry behind because of back injury. Radio Personality was a great replacement for forestry...believe it or not.

10 Years Ago: August 1995- G asked me to marry him and it changed my life.

5 Years Ago: August 2000 - I was teaching Number One Daughter to walk.

Yesterday: I was inconsolable-my hormone replacement therapy isn't at full strength

Today: We cooked on a "new" electric stove from freecycle; we haven't been able to cook in our kitchen ever! We moved in last October and began renovations immediately.

Tomorrow: Is crunch time-I have 63 articles to write by the 13th.

5 snacks I enjoy: Watermelon; pretzels; tomatoes off of the vine; chocolate milk and popcorn

5 (only five? why only five???) bands that I know the lyrics of MOST of their songs: The Bodeans; Poi Dog Pondering; U2, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, Journey; Styx; Loverboy; Foreigner; Supremes; Dion; The Grass Roots

3 bands that I have introduced on stage: The Grass Roots; Blood, Sweat and Tears; Little Eva-who loved 18 year old and gave him gifts while we were backstage in her trailer...she hugged him very tight;)

5 things I would do with $100,000,000: 1-Buy dream homes for my siblings, parents and self; 2-establish the Mike Bortz Memorial Scholarship fund for children of FBI agents who have been killed in the line of duty; 3-start an orphanage; 4-launch a children's foundation to stop hunger, abuse and neglect; 5-Launch a battered woman's shelter.

5 scorn-worthy habits I have: 1-yelling; 2-procrastination; 3-day dreaming; 4-slouching; 5-not believing that I am worthy of anything good or of value.

5 things I like doing: 1- being with, teaching and loving my children 2- writing; 3-radio personality; 4-relishing the view of mountains and the smell of salt water simultaneously; 5-live & work in National or State parks;

5 things I WISH I could wear: 1-a halter top! 2-ONE of Audrey Hepburn's ohsotight and stunning dresses; 3-short shorts; 4-swimsuit minus shorts or other cover up; 5-anything in a size that has only one digit.

5 TV shows I like: 1-Dawson's Creek-I can't let it go. 2-Nature documentaries; 3-Home remodeling educational shows; 4-Sex and the City; 5-Friends

5 movies I like: 1-Little Women w/June Allyson; 2-You've Got Mail; 3-Roman Holiday; 4-The Court Jester w/Danny Kaye; 5-Fried Green Tomatoes---TAWANDA!!!!!! LOL

5 famous people I'd like to meet: 1-Tom Hanks; 2-John Grisham; 3-Dr. Phil McGraw; 4-Erma Bombeck-She passed away ages ago, but she is largely my inspiration for writing; 5-Charles Dickens

5 biggest joys at the moment: 1-my husband and children; 2-mountains; 3-Pacific Ocean; 4-CHILDREN; 5-writing

Other tidbits about me:

~I hate it when people swear on their blog. I usually stop reading the post and navigate away. If it is the blogger's habit, I usually stop visiting that blog.

~G is my best friend...our friendship was four years strong when we first kissed. I have known him longer than any other person in my life-other than my siblings.

~I am empathetic to a fault--easily hurt, I not only feel other's pain, I make it my own.

~I was a happy person, easily amused, easy going and laughed a lot--then flashbacks invaded my days and nights. Then nothing in my life made sense anymore. I am trying to recover from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and find the happiness again...once and for all.

~I have no regrets when defending and protecting my children. I don't care whose feelings are hurt. No one messes with my children's psyches.

~There are/were people in my life that I will never forgive. God is charged with forgiving--I have relived events that are unforgivable. My pastor told me that I shouldn't stop trying to forgive...so far, I do not see the benefit. I forgave someone once...then a whole new set of flashbacks involving that person began. What is the point?

~G and I were featured in a Good Housekeeping article about women who date/marry younger men. (Sandra Bullock, Madonna, Courtney Cox and others were the primary article....but G and I were in there, too....I have always ended up with pups. I have dated older men, but I bagged me a young stud-ten years my junior. It was quite a scandal at the radio station where we met. I should blog it one of these days. :) I have a goofy smile on my face.

~When I was at the height of my career as a radio personality, I received proposals from fans who I had never met.

~A fan of my show "stalked" me. Once I didn't even know that he had shown up at one of my appearances. All of a sudden, there were five deputies around a tent where I was giving away prizes at a live remote. One deputy stepped into the tent with me and put his arm around my waist. He introduced himself and stayed aboutthisclose. Then the other four deputies walked away. The deputy who had been holding me looked at me and said that at that every moment the stalker was being told that he had just pissed off my husband-the one with his arm around me. I kissed the deputy on the cheek and I started to wear a wedding band.

~The stalker once coaxed my then seven year old son to open a locked door and let him in. He was arrested many times, but he was actually "nailed" when I recorded him threatening to come to my home or to the station and sexually assault me. I did not have to testify at the trial. My boss did.

~The first fan letter that I ever received was from a prison inmate who listened to my show while he was working on a road crew. He wanted me to "wait for him."

~One night, on our way home from a party---G and I were dating---I told him to pull over and we walked down to the river and were friendly under the stars. Years later, we drove near this spot and realized that you could see it from the highway. That's entertainment?

~I love to cook and my specialty is homemade flour tortillas and "pinch food" with lots of fresh cilantro.

~I hate lying.

~I love music.

~I have claustrophobia, PTSD and anxiety disorders. I also have a touch of OCD.

~I have held too many animals in my arms when they passed away.

~I am clairvoyant-not always, but enough to respect my inner voice.

~If you visit California State or National Parks, you will probably walk on a trail that I helped blaze.

~If you watch a PBS special on Salmon spawning and see a crew removing rocks from a Salmon ladder, you are watching my crew in action. I actually broke two fingers while working. I didn't say anything at the time because I did not want the film crew to pick up on that. What we were doing was too important to be side lined because of my injury. Stream clearance was one of my favorite projects. We dismantled many log jams so salmon could swim up stream to spawn.

~If you visit Muir Woods near San Francisco, you will see a redwood wall that my crew built to protect the river bank from erosion.

~If you visit Bodega Bay and are handicapped, you can travel in your wheelchair all the way to the ocean because my crew built the handicap access trail.

~If you visit Angel Island in San Francisco Bay, you will visit a historical island that was the "Ellis Island" of the West Coast-we restored most of the buildings and grounds.

~If you visit the Los Padres National Forest in Ventura and Los Angeles counties, you will be in the first national park that I ever worked in. This is where I fell in love with forestry.

~I once went out on a roof to keep someone from jumping off of it. I talked with him for three hours-he didn't jump. At the time, I was a 30-45 minute boat ride from the mainland and another half hour from the nearest hospital. We should have called flight for life-thought I am not certain that it existed at the time. I took him to an emergency room and he was hospitalized. He never tried to take his life again.

~I was not so lucky on two other occasions. One friend shot himself to death-forever 29 and the other killed herself in hospital on her first night alone in two months-forever 16.

~I was once pinned down by three grown men while they encouraged a mentally challenged co-worker to assault me. I fired all of them. One month later, I was asked to sit in on a meeting with the mentally challenged young man, my superior and the young man's parents. I should mention that the parents were both actors and very stunning. I sat there for three minutes, realized that this man's parents didn't love him and hired this man back in front of his parents. I told him that if he ever assaulted another woman, that I would kick his butt-personally and soundly. I looked his parents in the eye and told them that they should be ashamed of themselves for not caring that their 20-year-old son didn't have basic survival or social skills. I also told them that though they were "beautiful people," they were the lowest and ugliest form of life that I had ever met, especially for saying that his looks made it impossible for him to be successful in life. Their son went on to become one of the hardest working members of my crew. Ultimately, he was second only to me on my crew in terms of authority and know how. He never assaulted anyone again.

My favorite tree: Redwood. My crew stood finger tip to finger tip and we could not reach all the way around one-my crew was 15 members.

Favorite picnic spot: Inside a redwood. Fifteen adults sprawled this way and that and there was room for more:)

~I once got out of a vehicle in full uniform and ran two miles with new recruits because they were giving up and ready to quit--It was scorching hot. They were over-weight and at the end of the pack of 300 new recruits, I ran with them and encouraged them to keep going. I told them that the first time that I ran that very two mile stretch, it took me 42 minutes. Then I told them about my current time of 14:20. Thirty days later, those recruits ran two miles in under 30 minutes, which was the cut off time. After they left camp for their assignments, I was reading exit paperwork with my peers and supervisors-we were the trainers. On several of the exit documents, under the title "most memorable academy experience," were descriptions of me stopping the truck and running with them in my boots. I have tears in my eyes even now.

My favorite mountain: Grand Teton

My favorite ocean: Pacific

My second favorite country: Japan

My biggest fear: I will never find myself again--that PTSD has robbed me of peace and my sense of humor. That PTSD will define my life forever.

~I used to sing and dance a lot.

~My all time favorite song is You've Got What it Takes by Dave Clark Five. I dedicated it to my listeners on Fridays-it became my signature song.

~I am the only sibling without blue eyes. Mine are hazel and often look amber.

~My favorite color is violet.

~My mother's family is from Mexico.

~My great-great paternal grandfather married a Cherokee.

~I was born in California; my siblings were born in Tennessee.

~If you ask Little Big Boy where he was born, he replies, "I was born in the USA." He says it matter of factly. If he feels so inclined and you leave him alone after he anwers, he will start to sing the song.

~I am not graceful-I am a bull in a china closet.

~I am always barefoot.

~I love Disneyland.

By my side~forever

Close your eyes and whisper that you will be here forever.
Tell me that my fear of abandonment may be rooted in my soul,
But that you are not defined by my past or my fear of it.

Tell me that I am still your best friend.
...That I will always be your best friend.
We are not limited by roles, but I want to be more than a lover.
I want to know your soul inside and out forever.

When we ignore the white noise that is imposed by life itself,
We are invincible.
It is as if we are playing, Red Rover.
We interlock our wrists and no matter how hard life tries,
It cannot break our bond.

It isn't easy to keep the noise from attacking our relationship,
But it is easy to identify that "noise" is what is affecting us.
We can tune it out.
Ignore the noise by my side~forever.

We are forever because our love is not defined.
It evolves each day~sometimes fresh and new,
Sometimes dependable and safe,
Sometimes a bit bruised, but never broken.
We will always exist soul to soul.