Can You Solve This????

I love puzzles. I love any kind of puzzle. I'm so weird I even love math word problems.

This will be a decidedly short post and because I love puzzles, I'm going to post one - see if you can solve it... :-)



John and Katie





PLUS (+)




One Engagement Ring

E Q U A L (=)

KATIE AND JOHN ARE ENGAGED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Needless to say, we are excited, thrilled and happy for both of them. We love them both and wish them all kinds of happiness.

This means that my little family has TWO (count 'em two!) engaged couples - one wedding on the calendar (Justin and Stephanie - 21 June 2009) and the promise of another wedding (TBA).

We officially, and with great affection, and excitement welcome Stephanie and John to the Cook/Parker clan. I will officially be the grandma to three grandcats (Boo Radley, Olive and Soprano), and I am looking so forward to having a new daughter-in-law (Stephanie) and son-in-law (John).

Empty nesting was an adjustment, but it's turned rather exciting. I love the nests my kids are creating and the special people they have chosen to nest with.

I couldn't possibly be more happy and pleased. As any Mom will tell you, when the kids are happy - I'm happy!!!!

Today is about the endless possibilities and mystery of love.

Forty Nine Years, in a New York Minute

And that's exactly where I spent my 49th birthday - in New York City, visiting my beautiful daughter and her handsome and very tall boyfriend. We celebrated with a dinner at Les Halles, my favorite French Restaurant on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, along with John's fabulous Aunt Melanie, who treated us to this sumptuous feast. Les Halles is the same restaurant where Katie and I shared a meal with my favorite French writer and best buddy Michel a couple of years ago. We remembered that fun evening with great fondness, as we went about the business of making new memories.

Michel, being the charming man that he is, sent me the most beautiful daisies on my birthday so that when I arrived back home, they were waiting for me - he knows they're my favorite flower - and they were exquisite. Michel is family, after all these years, and he's working on a book that I can't wait to read. He's promised us a visit after he sends it to his publisher. We're going to hold him to it.

Turning 49 was a piece of delicous chocolate cheesecake, complete with a candle and singing.

It was 12 degrees when my plane landed at La Guardia. To my southern sensibilities and skin, it felt positively Arctic.

John and Katie's new apartment is on the Upper West Side, just a couple of blocks from the Time Warner Center and dangerously close to Border's Bookstore. Before my send-off to NYC, my office surprised me with a cake, candles, singing and two extremely generous gift cards with instructions to use them on my trip. I didn't disappoint them and Borders was the better for it, as was Barnes and Noble, and several other establishments.

Katie and I spent my actual birthday walking around Manhattan, seeing "He's Just Not That Into You", drinking hot coffee in very cold and wintry Central Park, and eating delicious food. And giggling - we giggled a lot. Made keen, obtuse observations, and in a way it was like hanging with a best friend, who just happens to be my daughter.

On the day after my birthday, we made our way to the Barnes and Noble near Lincoln Center where she hung out with the cookbooks and I drifted off to biographies and nonfiction. We lugged our loot to a sitting area just across from LC, and while Katie perused her baking book acquisitions, I sat back and took the opportunity to do what I love doing most in Manhattan - watching people. There was much to see, as there always is. NYC never disappoints and is always lively and over-stimulating.

It was a delightful way to spend a Saturday Afternoon and, thankfully, the temperature rose above freezing. Hardy NY'ers were positively basking in what they considered "mild" conditions. Me? I was gloved, wrapped in a scarf and ensconced in the faux fur coat my best friend Sharon lent me because living in Wilmington, I refuse to own outerwear that's more substantial than my leather jacket. I would have frozen solid without Sharon's generous contribution to my comfort. It's just one of the many reasons I adore Sharon.

We dropped back by K & J's apartment long enough to collect John and headed for a late lunch at the Olympic Torch Diner. But before venturing out, we ventured up - to the roof garden of their apartment building which happened to be on the 57th floor. It was breezy for certain, but what an incredible view! As sunset enveloped the city, the lights twinkled before us, like scattered stars - some static and others in a sort of Brownian motion. What a sight it was - the Hudson River to the left and Central Park to the right and everything imaginable in between.

However, at that haute height, the only noise to be heard was the wind whistling a very icy tune. I still can't imagine that my daughter lives up there and has made that town her own in the almost three years she's been a resident. Amazing. It constantly amazes me. She thoroughly thrives up there, as does John. It's like they've always been there, so comfortable and at ease in a town I always liken to semi-controlled chaos.

I'm so happy for them because they're so happy! I miss having her in town, no question about it, but taking queues from my parents, I choose to revel in their joy and right now, their joy is in the 18th floor apartment that is surrounded by glass buildings and busy streets and throngs of people; if that's where they find happiness, where they thrive and live and have carved out an inestimably interesting life with a view that won't stop, well, then that makes me happy, too! And very proud. So very proud of both of them.

Katie has grown into such a lovely, capable woman - the young girl who was always wise beyond her years has matured into an insightful, thoughtful, creative, accomplished adult. Watching the metamorphosis has been captivating, enchanting...a precious gift from a young lady who has generously given me ever so much along the way. As she has expanded her horizons, she's exponentially expanded my heart and my mind. Can you tell I'm proud? I make no apologies for this gushing - she can back up my accolades in a way that words can't come close to expressing in any sort of adequate form.

On Sunday Morning, 8 February, I packed up my suitcase and Katie rode the elevator with me downstairs and she gave me one final wonderful "Katie" gift of the weekend...she allowed me the comic thrill of watching her hail the cab that would start my journey back where I belong - in the land of iced tea and warm southern breezes. I love watching the NY side of her...so determined, full of chutzpah, certainty and with a confidence her very southern mother couldn't possibly manage.

Just before I got in the cab, headed back to La Guardia and the commuter plane that would deliver me back to my corner of the US, we snapped two photos. No tears, not even the hint of them did I feel. We had a spectacular visit, shared so much fun with Katie's seamlessly ascerbic and amusing turns, but it was time for me to head home to the much more decidedly genteel land of tea, Andy Griffith reruns, cats, a dog , so many cichlids and two parents I enjoy so very much, and it was time for her to return to her epic pace of ordering groceries from Fresh Direct (just a click of the keys and the cupboards are restored!), baking sinfully rich and mouth-watering desserts, and the quiet (it's all relative!) life she lives on the 18th floor of a very tall building in a very large city with a very tall boyfriend, two cats and a red kitchen-aid mixer. It's good we know our place, eh? :-)

I've been working like crazy since my return,. I've been slammed at work and I've enjoyed every minute of it. Every single minute. I am also typing this from a new Toshiba laptop that my parents bought me last week and I'm loving that, too. It's lightning fast, has a 17" screen and I can load my huge spreadsheets on it, have five applications running and never miss a beat. It's great fun and we're still getting to know each other, but I'm feeling a delicious synchronicity.

There is, however, excitement in the air! Upon my return from Yankee Town (NYC), I was informed by my beautiful daughter-in-law to be, that she and my son had set a wedding date! Yes! June 21st, on Wrightsville Beach, my son Justin and his lovely fiancee Stephanie will officially TIE THE KNOT! We're all very excited for them.

On April 3rd, I will be catching another plane and this time I will head North by Northwest to a town I haven't visited for over 12 years - Charleston, WV. I'm flying up to spend four days visiting my son because I haven't seen him since August and I need a Justin fix! I can't wait to see Justin and Stephanie. I'm looking forward to a tour of my old hometown courtesy of my 22 year old son and his soon-to-be-bride. I have talked with his boss, who happens to be his father, and he has agreed to let the fellow off for a few extra hours to entertain me. I'm looking forward to this trip and by the time I return on 6 April, before you know it, Katie will be coming down to visit and help prepare for the wedding - at which she will not only be the sister of the bridegroom, but will also be the official photographer!

We have much to celebrate, to be grateful for and sometimes when I think of my family, my friends, my town, my animals, my books, the ocean, and the list goes on, I am struck - literally - by just how blessed each of these days of our lives truly are - they are so inextricably intertwined, but in the best way possible, because somehow they are fashioned in a way that allows us to be close, even as we each chase our own dreams, realize our respective goals, struggle and learn and make our way on paths that feel bathed in dappled-sunlight and I know intrinsically that this light must absolutely originate from the center of heaven. It really does feel that way and I am in awe of every single second of it. It occurs to me that I wouldn't understand how precious all of this is, how illuminated these paths are, without having walked down a few dark wrong curves and you know, I'm grateful for those, too. For the lessons they impart, a determination they stoke, and a perspective that would be impossible to understand by any other means.

Spring is in the air, daylight lingers later into the evening now, and though I don't own a sailboat as of this writing, I appreciate these days of fair winds, and following seas.

Over the Hills and Everywhere...

"Yes, I was a seeker,
I sought Him both night and day,
I asked the Lord to help me,
He showed me the way.
Down in the manger,
Humble Child was born.
God sent us salvation
On that Christmas Morn..."

I guess I took a break from blogging, but certainly not from living. I can't exactly put my finger on the exact cause of my blogus interruptus, but there have been a few legitimate contributing factors.

When last I tapped out an entry, we were days away from an election. November was closing in fast. I was pleased with the outcome, at least nationally, and as I've watched the transition begin, I am sincerely impressed with the manner in which the president-elect is assembling his team, reaching out across party lines and also his affect of graciousness. This morning, I watched Tom Brokaw's interview with Barack Obama on "Meet the Press" and, again, I am amazed at manner in which his brilliance is co-mingled with equal parts of common sense and compassion. I truly do feel as if our ship of state is in supremely capable hands with this man at the helm.

The day after the election, Katie and I found ourselves on the phone for our daily lunchtime chat and then suddenly, after dissecting the election results she asked me, in a rather bewildered tone, "what are we going to talk about now?". We both laughed, realizing that we had been completely immersed in primaries, debates, sound-bites and "Palin-tology". Fortunately, however, it didn't take us long to realize that we could easily move onto other topics and our conversations have remained as lively and stimulating as always. I never doubted that for a second. We've never been at a loss for words - I love listening to her extrapolations and considered points of view and perspectives.

Speaking of Katie, she's been quite busy herself up in madcap Manhattan. Since my last blog, she's managed to find a new position - she's now assistant director with a progressive preschool on the Upper West Side of Manhattan which was only five blocks from her apartment until...she and John regained their gypsy ways and MOVED! John and Katie now live in the West 60's, near Columbus Circle and Central Park, and not only have they moved on, but they've moved up - to the 18th floor! NO MORE STAIRS and more square footage including......a dishwasher (and I don't mean John.). I'm told the kitchen is all stainless steel, high-tech appliances, hardwood floors and a terrace.

It was from this terrace that Katie had the odd and interesting experience of looking DOWN on the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade floats as it passed by their street. She reported that she didn't realize the balloons weren't as tall as she had previously thought as they drifted past Thanksgiving Morning. I'm still waiting on interior photos...ahem.

However, in a display of nothing but pure, parental pride on my part, Katie had this photo published in "Gothamist". (Taken from the kitchen window of their new apartment...nice view!). It should be noted that everything she has learned of photography she did NOT inherit from me.

Additionally, Katie has shared with us that she has been stepping out on John, but she's been completely upfront about it. Ignoring the wise adage never to date anyone at work, she's crossed that line and can frequently be found in the cozy company of a younger man. She did send me a photo of him and, admittedly, he's a handsome fella, having just celebrated his one year birthday. John is taking it as well as can be expected, admirably so, hoping I'm sure that it's a fleeting fling, but some days it's all Katie can seem to talk about. John must be a very strong, devoted man to stand by her like this. :-)

Justin has been doing great, too! He and Stephanie moved into a new townhome in Milton, West Virginia (home of Blenko Glass!), and both of them have been working hard with his Dad in preparing for the opening of the shiny, new "Direct Buy" store in Cross Lanes, West Virginia. They had their grand opening last Saturday and by all accounts, things are going great.

Justin doesn't check in every day with chatty phone calls which means I call him at least every other day for updates and news. He was wildly excited by the first snowfall a few weeks ago and stayed up extra late just to watch the flakes fly. This is the first time my West Texas born son has lived among mountains and it's been quite a new experience for him and North Carolina born and bred Stephanie.

Stephanie's Mom and Grandmother visited in late October for a long weekend and took in "Bridge Day", marveled at the fall colors, visited Hawks Nest, Charleston and Huntington. I spoke with Steph's grandma the week after she returned and her first comment was, "I had no idea how beautiful West Virginia is! I want to go back soon!". Needless to say, I believe she was quite impressed. I know the kids enjoyed their North Carolina visitors immensely.

In the time since I last blogged, Stephanie and Justin have added another year to their age - born exactly two weeks apart, they are now the ripe old age of 22. Apparently Justin is carrying on the male Cook tradition of enjoying the companionship of older women, even if that older woman is only older by two weeks! My Dad frequently points out that he, himself, married an older woman - my mother being one year and one month older. He has never let her forget it and, fortunately for my Mom, she simply ignores it knowing she can outdo anyone in this house with both hands tied behind her back.

And then, of course, there has been work. Lots of it! This has been a busy time where I work and we're growing fast. For as dismal as this economy has been, and continues to be, it's been great for our business. We have been accelerating in production which means that I have been hovering over and tinkering with all manner of Excel spreadsheets. They are growing longer and longer and longer which means sales are climbing at a very nice pace.

Last Monday evening, I was invited to have dinner with our president, George, out of Greenville, SC, and my boss Rich, here in Wilmington, along with my friend David, who is a manager at the Greenville office. In fact, when I first interviewed for this position back in June, George and Rich were present at what I affectionately refer to as "the first interrogation". I told them this past Monday Evening, over escargot (they made me take a bite), duck, scallops and my own filet mignon, that if I had realized that the true nature of my work would be almost specifically accounting and so overwhelmingly statistical in nature, I would have thanked them for the opportunity to meet them, given each of them a warm handshake and gracefully pulled myself out of the competition. I knew the title of the job was "Operations Manager" and "Branch Office Administrator", but that struck me as rather vague and, quite candidly, I just assumed I would be pushing paper and typing a few letters and maybe, on rare occasions, filling out a check request. Ha! Was I ever wrong.

Who knew there were 22 column spreadsheets, complete with formulas and functions to figure out, just waiting for me to fill in and that I would find myself juggling New Business Reports, Issue Reports, Profit, Loss, Expense and Production Reports and that , the totals on each of these were tied into each other and must be reconciled weekly and monthly; that each columnar total had to be accurate in order to tie in to concurrent reporting and that monthly totals had to be broken down by product, type and agent! I had absolutely NO IDEA what I was heading into and thank God I didn't.

Fortunately, when we started, we were an office of three: Rich, Robert and me. The production was easy to track and the totals were more than manageable giving me the chance for some very real and serious "on the job" training. Another facet of all of this is that I was put in charge of recruiting and it's funny now, 8 agents later, but it took me a while to realize that each person I was interviewing could potentially result in longer spreadsheets, more tracking, more Excel spreadsheets! Oy! In fact, with each new hire, my work increased exponentially. The correlation between recruiting and the increased accounting load took a little while for me to understand - here I was, looking for people who would inevitably make my work more complex and numeric. How crazy is that? Well, duh, of course that was the point! I just didn't initially, back in what I now refer to as "the salad days", quite understand the machinations of it all.

So of course now, when I interview people at a first briefing, I size them up and, as I chat up the really sharp applicants, realize that a sterling criteria can be distilled into one simple question: Which one of these people possess the ability to make my work even MORE overwhelming and elongate my "new business report" to quadruple digit rows? Putting aside fear for my own private sanity, I realize it's my mission to facilitate in the hiring of the folks who have the potential to provide me with the greatest headaches and, every now and then I glance at the one hallowed spot among the agent mailboxes that houses the extra large size of Advil that Rich has placed within convenient reach of my desk. As Rich always says with a smirk..."I'm a giver...".

Now, what has been truly amazing and unfathomable for me, this person who has always preferred the currency of words, is how much I have grown to enjoy my work. I know, I'm stunned by it myself. I can't believe how much I have been fascinated by how this business has grown from day one. I have come to discover and covet the giddy, satisfying buzz one feels when all of my columns reconcile TO THE SECOND DECIMAL POINT. I have found myself playing with mathematical functions on the Vista Version of Excel and learning how to correspond those totals to other spreadsheets automatically and being astonished when they work just like they're supposed to. It's some crazy stuff I'm learning!

Now, I write this as the daughter of a man who has spent his entire career and retirement reveling and basking in the joy of numbers. My father was an accountant for several coal companies throughout his successful career. My dad adores numbers. He is an Excel spreadsheet genius. My Dad has one of the sunniest dispositions I have ever encountered and I don't recall ever finding him in a low mood. Ever. He can find sunshine in almost every situation. He's just a really happy guy and always has been and he smiles quite easily and often. I must tell you, however, that when he opened up a file I sent him, sharing with him the sort of work I do, this man's face lit up in mega wattage. He looked up at me and said, "Wow, this is what you do? My goodness, you have a GREAT job! If I were younger...".

He's been proud of my writing. He would always compliment my newspaper columns which he read faithfully for the five years it ran. He was always pleased to see me published in "Wilma", "Greater Wilmington Business Journal", and enjoyed reading my work in "PC Magazine" both online and in the printed magazine however, I have rarely seen him light up as he did when he truly discovered the scope of work I am doing. I think my conversion from Microsoft Word to Microsoft Excel has made this man ecstatic. I laugh at him as I send him updated versions of my new business report, so proud is he that back in October he actually printed one out and taped the entire thing together which took 13 sheets of paper and gave me to display in the office. I don't think he ever printed any of my articles and taped them anywhere. Who knew that a spreadsheet held such power? I do believe that, as far as my Dad is concerned, "I HAVE ARRIVED". I believe he probably imagines that my new-found fascination with this genre of work is probably due to a recessive accounting gene (from his contribution to my DNA), that has FINALLY, at LONG LAST, awakened xeroxed itself.

Now, here's the part that kind of has me a little concerned. Most people claim that they "leave their jobs at the office", as well they should, right? Historically, without someone pointing a gun or a paycheck at me, I would never voluntarily open an Excel Spreadsheet up at home. It's like I could find 10,000 other things to do on a computer without ever considering opening a blank spreadsheet on one of my home computers. I haven't confessed this in print before and maybe it's the reason I haven't blogged because I know I have a tendency to turn this blog into a bit of a confessional but hey, it's good for the soul, right? Here's the issue and it's not easy to write about but, well, I have been keeping track of my finances, receipts, expenditures, the whole ball of wax. I now save ATM receipts and I log them, along with gasoline purchases, even freaking small Dunkin' Donut receipts aren't safe from my control and reportage. Frankly, I'm a little scared. A mere year ago I would throw those things away and never think twice and now, almost every evening I find myself fishing out receipts in my purse from purchases made that day and it's kind of freaking me out. I mean, I try and play it cool and still maintain the facade of the crazy blond, spreadsheet unencumbered ditz, but it's getting harder and harder to hide my new hobby.

I think I'm turning into my Dad. I look in the mirror and I look the same, but I can't deny the fact that I update my personal finance spreadsheet on a daily basis. I know, I know, admitting you have a problem is the first step, right? But the thing is, work, my family, they're all enabling me! Should I add another "AA" to my repertoire? Is there, in fact, an "Accounting Anonymous"? I don't think I have time to add another 12-Step group to my schedule. This may well prove to be an addiction I may have to make peace with.

Speaking of AA, I was elected the Intergroup Rep from my home group a few weeks ago which means that I attend a meeting at headquarters every other month to report back to my home group the goings on at our local main office. It didn't sound like that big of a deal so of course, I accepted the role and figured it would basically involve keeping up with information such as new meetings in the area, methods of reaching out to the community, etc., Sounded harmless enough, right?

On the third Thursday of October, I arrived at my first meeting at Intergroup, and took my place among the other home group reps and, upon being warmly greeted by the head of Intergroup here in Wilmington, was handed an agenda and some accompanying papers that were to be discussed. I sat down in my chair, opened up the papers to see that it contained, what else, a spreadsheet with budget information and Intergroup assets, expenses and all manner of pertinent financial information and a proposed budget for next year. I just sat there, after leaving four minimized spreadsheets on my work computer amid my cluttered desk, thinking I was in a "safe place" at local AA headquarters, to be hit with budgets and expenditure forecasts? Egads, I thought. I can't get away from this stuff! Even AA isn't a safe haven for a burgeoning numbers addict. I had to laugh. There I was trying to be a "normal" recovering alcoholic and they hand me paperwork to facilitate my newest addiction. I shared this experience with a couple of trusted AA friends who wisely offered, "Susie, this is probably God doing for you what you couldn't do for yourself...". Figures.

On January 12, 2009, I will celebrate (God-willing) five years of no longer taking a drink. Now...I take a number. What a crazy world, isn't it? Sobriety remains full of surprises and I continue to be grateful for each one of them. One day at a time, of course.

Between work and work, I have turned my attention to rearranging the upstairs of my home. Since Justin moved in July, I have gained incredible amounts of square-footage. There is so much space up here now. My kind and generous boss, Rich, graciously gave me a beautiful and very heavy desk and I love it. After he and his lovely wife (and Bobby) delivered it one Sunday Afternoon, my Mom and Dad came up to see it (it's a really nice desk), and as I was contemplating how to get it into what used to be my old office, my Mom brilliantly suggested, "Why don't you use it in the loft - leave it right where it is?". I thought about it for two-seconds and realized it was pure genius. It offered me plenty of room, quick access to my beloved books in the built in shelves, and freed up another room because I wasn't really using the loft for anything. My Dad helped me set it up and it fits perfectly and I don't know what to do with all this space!

Of course, change begets change, right? And so I soon decided that I would turn what used to be my office into my bedroom so that necessitated more moving (and sore muscles) and that, of course, meant that I became a fan of Craig's List. In fact, I tell people that my house is now decorated in "Early Craig's List". Let's see - in the past few weeks, I have snagged a stained glass window which overlooks the open space that used to house that dreadful bird aviary, an almost new barely used Sharp flat screen TV, a 3 year old Kirby G-6 Vacuum that originally cost $1200 that I got for $100 and has ALL the attachments and sucks out dirt you had no idea was lurking in places you can't imagine! And yesterday, my Craig's List surfing resulted in an antique pie safe that my Dad and I secretly picked up and surprised my Mom with for her birthday which is December 13th - when she'll celebrate being a spry 85 years young. She loved it and it looks GREAT! Craig's List is like sports shopping and I enjoy it immensely except for one thing - the spelling drives me nuts on there and one word in particular makes me scream - people advertise tables that one eats at as "dinning room tables" and my gosh, do you have any idea how prevalent the misspelling of that word is? I want to shout - there aren't THREE N'S in there people! I know it's a crazy pet peeve, but what about spell check? Spell check is our friend and I'm hardly flawless but how can you look at "dinning" and NOT see something amiss? Sometimes I have to take a walk after seeing so many ads for "beautiful dinning room table - it will look great in your dinning room!". What in the world is a dinning room? Moments like that, I just have to get up and take a walk or clean an aquarium or I can be found muttering...DROP the DOUBLE N!

Speaking of aquariums, the fish are thriving and multiplying and every week I have a pair of pink convict cichlids that multiply some more. If anyone reading this in the Wilmington, North Carolina area would like about 100 baby pink convict cichlids and knows how to spell the word "DINING (as in DINING ROOM TABLE), I would be glad to set you up. These pink convicts are proliferate and they're such GREAT parents. Really, it's fascinating to watch them - they will fight off intruders (including my hand which has been bitten many times when placing fry food in the tank) with a remarkable, primitive ferocity. The parental instinct in these fish is incredible. They will scoop the babies in their mouths, dig sand caves in the corner and spit them out. Of course, even pink convict babies don't listen and within about ten seconds, they sneak out of the safe place and will wander back out into the open tank but, ever vigilant Mom and Dad race in and corral them right back home. It's fascinating and a lot of fun to observe.

And here we are in December. How in the world did that happen? Where did this year go and I know it's redundant and I say it every single year but my gosh, in the words of John Mayer, "STOP THIS TRAIN". Time is flying by so very fast. We were at our neighbors yesterday morning for their annual neighborhood Christmas Brunch where all manner of soups, sweets and neighbors catching up with neighbors was bountiful as it always is. It's always so much fun to see these wonderful people in our neighborhood (even if most of them were McCain supporters) who we see walking around during the rest of the year, gardening, mowing, raking or watching their kids move away because we all have kids who have grown up, but never really having the chance to truly catch up with what's been going on. The Freshwaters afford us this opportunity every December and we all look forward to it. This year, it was BYOB (bring your own bowl). We had a fantastic time and my Dad enjoyed hugging all of our female neighbors and ignoring their respective husbands. He's such a flirt and always in his glory.

This is our ninth Christmas in this town and I moved here with adolescent kids who have grown up and moved North (and who still delight in calling me at odd hours to report that "MOM, it's SNOWING RIGHT NOW!", always to get the response from me, "I'm so happy it's you...and not me!". But still, I revel in the enthusiasm with which they greet it and then I wonder to myself, how in the world did I raise kids who like cold weather and frozen precipitation? Was it something I ate during my pregnancy? Did I watch Rudolph too many times? Was it the ice cream I scarfed down? How did these Southern bred kids become Yankees???? (I know, Justin lives in WV, but as far as I'm concerned, that qualifies him for a Yankee if, for no other reason than climatological data).

Unfortunately, Justin will not be able to make it in because his boss told me that he has to work the day after Christmas. Of course, his boss is his father and from what I can tell in talking to both of them, they're having a great time working together in this mammoth business venture! It's fun to hear them speak of each other in a way that implies they are truly working closely and well - father and son. Pretty cool. Quite a blessing, indeed. From what I can tell, there's a lot of mutual respect going back and forth between them. I love that.

Katie, however, will be arriving on December 23rd and we can't wait! We'll certainly miss Justin and Stephanie, but we'll enjoy having Katie and John visit. I haven't seen her since her visit in May which feels like years ago! She may be all grown up, but she's still my little girl. I definitely need a Katie fix!

Sometimes, especially now that I don't see either one of these kids everyday, when I do see them, I just find myself studying them, fascinated at who they've grown into being, amazed and even more grateful that God configured so perfectly to place them in my life. I can't begin to adequately articulate how much I've grown to admire and respect both of them and who knew that the tsunami of love that one feels for their child at birth, can grow to such expansive, infinite proportions? And it keeps growing in ways no one can probably explain because it's just massive. Isn't it? I mean, you know how you don't think you can love someone any more than you do at certain times, but the great thing about love, is that it reaches so far beyond what you were sure was the limit - the bar constantly continues to be raised and it intrisically exceeds itself. For me, it's such a keen reminder of God, the largess of something intangible, so overwhelming as to render itself impossible to quantify. There is no scale to it and, apparently, absolutely no limit at all. Then again, that's what this season is all about isn't it? It's where the light first became lit, the source of everything that is good and valuable and most precious to each of us with the advent of that birth. Because of that humble beginning, I have all of this incalculable love. I need to remind myself to remember that source of this season more often. I would have nothing without it. I wouldn't even "be" at all.

I'm grateful. I'm just so grateful. I'm even grateful for people who sometimes insert extra "N's" in "dining". I'm just that grateful.

If you're reading this, I'm grateful for you, too.

A few weeks ago, I received a call from my dear, sweet friend Michel in Nantes, France. We had such a great talk and it feels like I've known him forever. We were talking about our respective kids, the two Thanksgivings he'd shared with our family in the past ten years, and what was going on in our lives. His work sounded most decidedly much more intriguing than mine - he had just finished translating Zbigniew Brezinzki's latest book from into French, along with even more stimulating projects. He has always been one of my most valued and trusted writing supporters and my respect for his opinion and talent is boundless, along with being such a trusted, special friend. Michel asked me why I hadn't been writing much (at all) lately. It was a legitimate question and I shared some things with him that had evolving inside of me in these past few months.

Quite a few years ago, the ever astute Michel made the remark that I was "becoming the person you were raised to be", after what was really just a lull in a tumultuous time. His remark struck me at the time because I knew that whatever I might look like on the outside, on the inside I still wasn't close to being who I was raised to be. I guess his remark lingered in my head because I knew innately there was such a disparity between the truth of that statement and my own reality at the time he made it.

In fact, I was spiraling - I remember wishing that I was even close to becoming who I was raised to be, but I was at least honest enough with myself to know that, in fact, I wasn't even in the same neighborhood of any of that. I still had quite a few years to fall before I could begin to get up and assess the situation. I had much more damage to do (mostly to myself) but even given the point where I was at that time, Michel's statement sounded an alarm in the very deepest part of my (then) fragile being. I wanted to be able to say with clarity and honesty that yes, indeed, I am very much close to being the person I was raised to be...

At the time, it felt like a hopeless dream of a goal.

During these past few months, my parents and I have keenly missed Justin, as we did Katie when she first flew the coop. The absence created by his relocation was nothing less than a very real adjustment. He'd never really lived away from home and you'd be surprised how seeing the same guy for almost 22 years can become a habit. It was so quiet after he moved and I think, in some way, that we each stayed "up" for each other almost as much for ourselves. Of course, it required that indispensible but impossible to rush commodity of time. Time takes time and it never allows itself to be rushed.

So many changes have taken place since January 12, 2004 - the day after I took my last drink. Relationships have changed in a variety of positive ways but perhaps the relationship that changed most profoundly was the relationship with myself. In those first days, weeks and months of sobriety, you run the gamut of feelings toward yourself - and a lot of it is of the "self-loathing" variety which you have to walk through and then out of and you have to accept the fact that you have been sick, very very ill, because of the disease that's been chipping away at your whole being. And then, as time moves on, you learn acceptance and at some point, perhaps when you're not even paying attention, some threshold is crossed and lo and behold, you start to truly believe that you're actually an OK person - and then you learn that you truly can depend not only on others, but most of all, on yourself. You discover that you can be trusted probably long after many others close to you have granted you another chance. It's often said that we can be our own worst critics and I believe that's often the case, at least it has been with me many times.

Plunged into the quietness of this house after Justin moved, I've spent more time around my Mom and Dad. I've often said that I want to be just like them when I grow up and I really do because they've managed to grow up without losing their youth, their playfulness and impishness, their sense of wonder with just about everything - and even though they've been around on this planet over 80 years, they still retain that wonder. My Mom can point out a flower in the yard or the first tomatoes or cucumbers on a plant every year and she does so as if it's the very first time she's ever seen such a thing - with a genuine expression of pure awe at something she's witnessed many times before.

My Dad is exactly the same way - he can be genuinely dazzled by a meticulously cut yard, a sudden growth spurt of a plant, or even the way Cassie comes inside after it's started raining and voluntarily holds each paw up to be dried off and how she likes her face wiped in a very specific fashion. These are the kinds of things that positively capture their attention and how wise they are not to overlook them, to take notice of these seemingly small things that maybe aren't so small at all.

I have observed in these past few months how both of them find deep joy in their routines, how this couple who lived through losing their oldest daughter back in 1973, managed to rediscover joy in the details of everyday life - how these routines, putting one foot in front of the other, sustained them until the magic and wonder of life resumed its proper place allowing for things like tomatoes blooming and leaves turning to captivate them once again. They haven't simply spent all these years living - they have lived well and from what I can see - there's a huge difference in those two things. It is their continued joy in each day that has made such a huge impression on me these past few months. "Living well" is such an art and it has absolutely nothing to do with money at all but has everything to do with Grace. Grace has so many excellent definitions but the one I'm probably thinking of just now is this: "a virtue or excellence of divine origin."

When I spoke with Michel a couple of weeks ago, I tried to explain that what I was experiencing, didn't lend itself well to writing just yet, but that I knew in time it would. And I believe it will, but lately, I have felt like a sponge of sorts, enjoying the new routines I've established, finding joy in things I never would have imagined containing anything fascinating or remarkable. In a way, the things I've previously thought to be unremarkable, have proven to be the most remarkable. The point of it all that has eluded me for so very many years, is the simple lesson that joy and wonder can be found everywhere if I'm willing and determined to see it. It really is just that easy.

Back to Michel's long ago observation, that I was "becoming the person my parents raised me to be", well, it occured to me that in fact, it appears as if I had found that path and was, at the very least, heading in the right direction with as sturdy a compass as I've ever felt in my pocket. Not only does my compass feel reliable, but I have learned to depend on it and trust both my compass and me. There's a lot to be said for heading in the right direction...

The other night I was having dinner with my parents and my Dad always begins dinner with an elegant "grace". After he blessed dinner, they were discussing how much they missed Justin and Katie but then, my Dad looked across the table at me and said, "But you know what? I sure have enjoyed the three of us being able to spend time together." And then my Mom suddenly remarked that she was "so proud of me". I have to tell you, that no matter where I have been published and regardless of where I might be published in the future, I can think of few remarks that could make me feel as grateful as I did in that moment. It was a deep sense of gratitude and what a keen reminder of a Higher Power, who made the culmination of that moment and that remark remotely possible.

If you think about it, that really is "Go tell it on the mountain" stuff. For now though, given the absence of mountains, I'll just blog about it.

Merry Christmas!

Transatlanticism, Transmissions in Tumult, My Blog Becomes " Exhibit 18A", and a Messy Political Landscape...

First, let's start with a travelogue. Katie's was far more interesting and exciting than mine. Katie and John enjoyed a wonderful holiday that began in Paris for a glorious string of five days, included a passage aboard the Eurostar and ended with a flourish in London aboard the London Eye. They had an incredible time. Included in the dream vacation was dinner with our friend Michel and his daughter Anne and niece Nolwenn in Paris. All reports from the principals involved speak of a fantastic visit. Katie and John landed safely back in NYC following "the best time ever!".

[All photos courtesy of Katie Jane Parker.] You may see more of Katie's photography if you click here: Katie's Photo Stream. I have been blown away by her work and her photos of the trip were incredible. I have already put in orders (hints) for Christmas prints. I'm very proud of her talent - I just wish I knew where it came from!

Four days after Katie returned to NYC from London, Justin and Tim took off in the opposite direction for Amarillo. Ah yes - back to Justin's roots! Tim's last hospital gig had been in the West Texas town of Amarillo and he had left many thing in storage before setting off for his new entrepreneurial gig in West Virginia so, as things are gearing up for the opening of his new business, father and son flew to Amarillo, loaded a huge moving truck and had an interesting road-trip back. For Justin, it was back to his roots - he was born in Amarillo and is our token Texan. I thought it was pretty cool that he and his father could share that trip back in geography and time and maybe relive some memories and, by all accounts from both of them, I believe they did.

As much as I miss my son, as do his grandparents, what a unique and exquisite opportunity this is for him to reconnect with his Dad. I believe they're learning a great deal about each other - what makes the other one tick and who they are as individuals - their similiarities and unique differences. Tim was generally working non-stop during Justin's growing up years and usually geographically displaced from the cities we lived in so their times together were sparse and most probably those brief windows of opportunity during summer and Christmas vacations didn't lend themselves to any real adequate "getting to know you" time. However, given that they are working closely together, living in the same house until Justin finds an apartment, and now spending great chunks of time together, it seems they are discovering all kinds of things about each other and it's great fun hearing about it from both of them.

As for West Virginia, I personally am excited for Justin to experience October and the first part of November in the Mountain State. As most people know, I am no fan of WV topography or climate, and am even less enamored with mountains and landlocked geography, but I must say that Fall is when West Virginia seems to shine. I do remember crisp fall days, looking up at a nearly indescribable palette of color that appeared as brushstrokes across the mountains and ridges and valleys and I remember, even as a kid, thinking to myself how expertly and creatively appointed God must be. How He must have the most ginormous box of crayons and He knew how to use them. Even for the ocean lover that I am, the bountiful beauty of October in West Virginia wasn't lost on me. I can't wait for Justin to see that and knowing his sense of, and appreciation for, artistry, I am confident he's going to be blown away by it all.

I am nothing if not a cheerleader for all that is coastal North Carolina. Put me before an ocean, and I need little else to find some inspiration, save a large jasmine iced tea. Justin's never lived in an area where Fall goes full-throttle. In West Texas, it was negligible at best because the trees were mostly tiny and sparsely scattered across the High Plains, bowing humbly to the expansive sky that elicited one's attention and made for it's own kind of beauty. One early memory of my first autumn in Amarillo was my noticing on weekends how so many of my neighbors spent hours and hours tending saplings on our street, trees that wouldn't pass for twigs in my native Charleston. Sure, they might deliver a handful of golden leaves but never in the quantities that would require any homeowner to purchase a leaf rake and never ever enough to create a voluminous pile of crispy leaves just begging for someone to jump into them.

My son will find a different facet of fall this year, a kaleidoscope of color, and I can just imagine the awe he will experience, seeing it all for the first time at the tender age of 21. I know his soul, and I'm betting this will be one of those "moments" that graciously visit us in life. I can't wait to hear what it looks like through his sweet eyes.

Speaking of kids, I must say that I miss my Katie. She's doing well, sounds happy and it's absolutely true we enjoyed a great visit this past May, but I find myself missing her quite a lot. It's hard to believe my daughter is twenty-five years OLD! I rarely laugh as long or as hard as I do when I spend time with her. She's so completely comedically absurd and at times, she's much like what I would imagine the cast of SNL must be like. Sardonic, bitingly witty, droll with a wry, intellectual spark that fascinates me. We talk often but it's not quite the same as seeing her facial expressions. She can drive me to giggling fits with a look and given the political season we are in, she's been exceptionally entertaining - squarely on her game.

I hear the pundits every evening, promising that McCain's transparent ploy to capture the female vote hungry to get a woman into office, will only backfire, that "American women are too smart to fall for this", but it's still a great fear. Call me crazy, but I just can't fathom that our national security could rest in the hands of a woman who appears to earnestly believe that her state's proximity to Russia somehow qualifies as foreign policy experience.

Here's a very serious question - If you manage to shatter the glass ceiling, as so many conservative women and "Hilary hangers-on" are crediting Gov. Palin with, what good is it if you land in a sound-proof room and find yourself muzzled? Does it count as a gain or gaffe? She doesn't even qualify as a cheerleader because, well, they have to make a noise. She's not allowed. Three interviews since she was nominated at the Republican Convention four weeks ago...that's messed up.

The "Sequestering of Sarah" by the McCain Campaign, preventing her from only the most scripted campaign appearances, shadowing her every move and barring her from interviews, press conferences or any opportunity to speak her own mind, is stark proof that she is nothing more than a manniquen for a campaign that appears to be both imploding and exploding before our very eyes. It's unconscienable to me that McCain could have selected this poor woman and somehow expected the rest of us to think it was a good decision. What in the heck was he thinking or, more disturbingly, was he thinking at all? If Ms. Palin can't be trusted to take questions from Katie Couric, how in the world can she be seen as credible enough to deal with world leaders at a time when America is in such precariously dire straits? And to be fair, don't you imagine Ms. Palin feels as used as the rest of us feel hoodwinked? I wonder how she feels when she sees Joe Biden being interviewed, IF the closet they have her locked away in has cable access? Why isn't she furious with her rigidly guarded solitary confinement? What does it feel like to have Tina Fey accurately portray your missteps without even having to embellish a single word?

I would love to see her prepped for an interview by her myriad of handlers, and then, when the tough, pointed questions are asked that anyone running as a vice-presidential candidate should be able to deftly field - imagine this: I would LOVE to see Ms. Palin take a deep breath and pause (for effect) and say, "You know what? I've had it. I am sick and tired of being McCain's token female. I'm done with this. [Looking straight into the camera and for once not fumbling for an answer or even the right word...] - "I have come to realize that I am not qualified for this position and there is absolutely no sense in pretending that I am. The Maverick made a mistake. I can handle being governor from an obscure, sparsely populated state, but I am out of my element and this is simply beyond my capacity and thank you for your gracious welcome, fellow Americans, but I am no longer willing to be the butt of the joke, the lead-in skit for SNL, and I am returning to what I am familiar with, what I know how to do and resuming my life in Alaska. Oh, and Senator McCain, after the treatment I have received from you and your handlers, watching you make one erratic move after another and being made to feel like I have to be shadowed and muzzled and on a very short leash for the past five weeks, I have decided to vote for Barack Obama, thank you very much. It is my hope that I can forget this nightmare, the denigration I have suffered and the calamatous assualt to my integrity. It was ill-advised for me to accept the invitation to be your running-mate and my family and I are catching the next plane out to Anchorage with the remaining threads of our dignity. Find another pawn, sir."

As far as I can see, that would be the perfect "out" for her. No nonsense, no BS, no veiled illusion to family responsibilities...just the truth - you know..."straight talk" which, in Ms. Palin's case, would be infinitely more promising than "no talk". I can't imagine this woman, who I truly don't believe is a dummy, but is in no way in a position to take on the responsibilities that she's been recommended to tackle, can be pleased with her isolation and MANdate to be "seen, but not heard." How can she be OK with that? What's going through her mind and how is she dealing with this oppression?

As far as I can see, McCain never had it in his mind to nominate a woman fully-suited to the office of vice-president. I earnestly believe he simply wanted an attractive, wide-eyed marionette with a double X chromosome. It's not only a slap in the face to women, but it's a powerful slam to Ms. Palin's intellect. How can she operate under such conditions? I can't help but believe that the VP debate this Thursday will be like watching a slow-motion train-wreck and who believes this is going to end well for Gov. Palin?

Then again, the same man who selected her told us not ten days ago that the "fundamentals of our economy are strong", that he couldn't appear on the Letterman Show because he had to head straight to Washington and assist with the 170 billion dollar bailout negotiations, when in reality he headed straight for a taping with Katie Couric; this is the same man who did eventually make it back to Washington and managed to stall negogiations that had been running well until he brought his presidential campaign entourage for as many posed photo-ops as possible in the hopes of making him appear essential and "commander-in-chief ready", when in reality, he did nothing more than make things worse and delayed the urgent business. at hand. The same man who suspended his campaign when in reality, he tried to stealthily crank it up a notch - hoping we wouldn't notice the subliminal sleight of hand gear shift. And maybe, most telling of all, the same person who found it impossible, in the span of a 97 minute debate, to have the simple, decent courtesy of looking Senator Obama in the eye, opting rather to ignore his physical presence on the stage in an illustration of arrogance that backfired and made him look like the angry little man he appears to be - anything but presidential.

Seriously - doesn't McCain look as if his head is going to explode sometimes? I mean, like he's going to just spontaneously combust when he's ruffled? Like he's silently counting to ten before the steam whooshes out of his ears? His temper is supposedly legendary and I just don't feel comfortable at the thought of him losing it at the wrong time. Maybe that's just me...

If that's the mark of a maverick, I want no part of it. Sen. McCain honestly didn't need to remind us twice during that debate that he "never won any congeniality awards" during his tenure in Washington...really...most of us wouldn't argue that point. I certainly wouldn't. That's one of the few statements I don't need to run by "factcheck.org".

All of this would be highly entertaining political theatre if the stakes weren't so devastatingly high and we weren't in such a massive mess. Frankly, it's too desperately serious to be terribly amusing. We're in a very tight spot. We honestly don't have time to guffaw for long at ill-conceived VP choices or shake our heads in amazement at bizarre news interviews. It's become too painful to fill up our cars at the gas pump, excruciating to worry for our friends and neighbors who have no health insurance and this world is becoming much too dangerous of a place, where unfriendly nations are kicking around nuclear proliferation programs, probably laughing among themselves that we might install a "babe" in office who's foreign policy experience begins and ends with the fact that she governs a state where, on a clear day, she can see Russia. It's not nearly as funny as it is horrifying.

No matter how you slice it, we're in such a mess...we're just not in a "good place". I hope we can collectively find ourselves in a better place when the dust settles, regardless of how the election turns out. Our ship of state is listing something awful.

God Bless Us One and All...indeed. Might be a good time to break out into song...something perhaps along the lines of that old Titanic standard..."Nearer My God To Thee..."

Let's see, I guess the other news is that I now have a new iPod. I think I am in love with it. I found a GREAT deal on an iPod Touch, brand spanking new and still in its sealed box and now fully loaded with my music. I discovered it on Craig's List and not only does it deliver my tunes, but has 8GB, wifi, gps and does everything an iPhone can do except make calls and take photos. It's amazing and I am in love. With the iPod.

My fish...oh my goodness. Do I ever have fish and have they ever gone forth and multiplied. My pink convict cichlids are overseeing a huge brood of 5 day old fry and what amazing parents they are. I watch as they corral the babies, scooping them up in their mouth and replacing them back to the nest. It's amazing, really, because most fish will eat their young as soon as they appear, but not these parents. Truly, they are a study in animal instinct and sometimes I watch them in complete and utter awe. I am truly enjoying tending these aquariums and in the year since I set up my 55 gallon tank, I have learned an enormous amount. It continues to be a very fun hobby.

On one final note, I did borrow my dad's van yesterday and my Mom and I visited a garage sale down the street. We came back with a coffee maker and a beautiful brass chandelier. It was GORGEOUS! Apparently my Mom didn't like the one in my dining area anymore than I did, but we'd never talked about it until I saw her examining the one at the sale yesterday and when I saw her whip out her wallet, I thought...Wow! And then my next thought was..."I really hope I don't get electrocuted when I replace the old one for the new one.". I've always wondered if a blond should realistically play around with electricity but, well, what the heck. My car was in the shop and I had nothing better to do so why not give it a try?

As amazing as it may sound to those of you who know me, I successfully and safely took down the old one and carefully installed the new chandelier without incident. It looks GREAT! It's even on a dimmer and it honestly looks so much better than the clunky glass one we had. I held my breath as I flipped the breaker back on after my handiwork, making sure the pets and grandparents were out of spark range should something blow but, well, it worked. Go figure!

I think I may be the son AND daughter my parents never expected :-)

Rainbow Roses, Fishing and Lunch With The Ladies...

It has been a nice, funny, fishy, festive, fortuitous, frisky week.

My daughter turned 25 this past Tuesday (26 August). I keep telling her she doesn't look her age but you know how some women are about stuff like that. Seriously, she's been a joy to me since I first laid eyes on her back in 1983. Happy Birthday Katie Jane Parker! You are so very loved. Here's to many many more.

When I got home on Tuesday, my Dad asked me who I received flowers from. I had no idea what he was talking about and figured he was just pulling my chain. Sure enough, there was a long rectangular box waiting for me and it had the unmistakable shape a container that might be harboring long stems. I love those boxes!

They were gorgeous and so welcome, so cheery! Now, I'm typically a daisy kind of girl, but I have to say that these roses were just stunning and they came in such festive colors. They were sent by a dear person who lives across the pond in Northern England. The guy who surprises me now and again with packages of sumptuous jasmine tea, weather stations, books and several Greer Garson movies. Thank you kind person. You truly made my evening. It was completely unexpected - I mean, I haven't chatted with him in MONTHS! I think he has this internal radar that seems to know when I need a boost or something.

Sunday evening, I joined a friend for some surf fishing and had a blast. I even found a very cool chunk of coral in the waves and it's now sitting in one of my aquariums. We stood on the jetty Sunday Night, right around low tide, and it was a stunning evening. The water was warm, the breeze was light and the ocean was just as it always is - glorious. I didn't catch a fish, but I did catch a funny crustacean (he put up a good fight, but I let him go.). My friend caught a small flounder - too small to keep - and after he detached the hook he handed the fish to me and I threw him back in and suggested he go out and grow a bit and stay away from hooks.

The weather has been so tropical this past week. We've had some of the hardest rainshowers mixed in with periods of intense sunshine and high humidity. The tropics are popping right now and just about everywhere you go in this town, you hear people discussing the systems making their way from Africa toward our shores. As I type this, Louisiana is on high alert and we're hoping they aren't facing a repeat of three years ago when Katrina made an unwelcome, devastating visit.

Thursday Afternoon, my best buddy Sharon called and said it was time for lunch with the girls. I immediately accepted and she told me that our friend Ann was up for a good time, too. Today, we lunched at Airlie Seafood Restaurant and we had the BEST time! I was a few minutes (several) late because my Mom and I were checking out the bargains at Vintage Values and I snagged some steals! Of course, I took my loot to lunch and my friends couldn't believe what I managed to find. I couldn't either. I'm not generally gifted at bargain hunting but this must have been my lucky day.

OK, yesterday was my lucky day, too. My sweet boss closed up shop and set me free at noon, and I headed for another store and made out like a bandit. I basically managed to capture about 12 outfits for under $40. Most of them still had the tags, designer names I could never have afforded at retail and fit as if they were made for me. Incredible!

My bargain hunting wasn't simply confined to frilly dresses and suits. I went on Craig's List last night looking for an iPod (I miss mine so much!) and while I didn't find a great deal on those, I did discover a Marine Elipse System 12 Aquarium which generally retails for around $160, that was going for the amazing low price of $25. I went over to pick it up first thing this morning and met the sweetest young couple who are preparing to move to Sweden. Not only was this aquarium in good as new shape, but they tossed in another smaller one, rocks, plants, filters, a net,, a heater a gravel vacuum much nicer than the one I have, food, water conditioner, an expensive pH testing kit and an algae scraper. I hit pay dirt!

This has truly been a lucky weekend for me in terms of purchases. I'm still keeping a keen eye out for the iPod, but I'm so pleased with my fish tanks and not a minute too soon - my African cichlids have went forth and multiplied so I was in serious need of a tank for them to grow without fear of being consumed by their relatives.

But back to lunch. Lunch was sooooo much fun. It went on for almost two hours and we laughed, ate great food, giggled, gossiped and ate some more. We all had shrimp and then Sharon declared we would have a large, chocolate dessert - three spoons please - and is anything better than good friends and a shared high calorie confection and great iced tea? I can't think of too many things that top it.

What an amazing gift these friends of mine are. Sharon is one of the first friends I made when I moved to Wilmington and she's been so steadfast, loyal, lovely and God must have used his finest "friend" template in creating her. I loved her the first time I met her almost seven years ago. I adore her even more now. She also brought me the gift of Ann - as she introduced me to this wonderful woman over a year ago and my goodness - the three of us are like three peas in a bucket. My spirit soars after time spent with these ladies. We're all three blond and so we speak the very same language. We can even finish each others sentences.

Next Saturday, Sharon has decreed, (because Gerald has a golf tournament), that we shall lunch again and THEN, the three of us will go have pedicures because Sharon said so. No discussion. No excuses. That's the deal and that's that. Sharon is slightly more mature than Ann or myself so she made it clear that no cancellations would be honored. Hey, who would want to get out of that? We all thought it was a fantastic idea. No arguments from Ann or me. We're blond, yes, but not completely stupid.

The three of us had our cameras on the table. We took pictures. And of course, every pose had to be snapped by three different cameras. And then, our very kind and patient waitress took over when it was time to snap a group photo. Three times. We definitely gave her a great tip because she did a great deal of photography work. Plus, tomorrow is her birthday. She didn't even charge us for dessert because she said we were "fun". All I know is that I left with a huge smile on my face, chocolate in my tummy and an iced tea to go. Thank you Sharon, Ann and God for arranging my life that I have these angels in them.

I did make time this past week to get a much-needed haircut! Actually, very little hair was trimmed, but it definitely needed some reshaping and so I visited Joseph Zell & Company and had a wonderful reunion with two young ladies I used to work with when I managed the spa downtown. It was so cool to see Chelsea and Brandy and we had a lot of catching up to do! Joseph Zell is kind of pricey, but they provide a spa-like service - they SPOIL you from the moment you walk into the salon. The shampoo includes a massage and you never want it to stop. The ambiance is elegant and everyone in there is at the top of their game. I've received a lot of compliments on the trim and my hair is so smooth, so lush. I'm not certain what they put in the shampoo or maybe it's the conditioner, but my gosh, I think my hair is addicted to it. It was a glorious way to spend my lunch hour on Thursday. I highly recommend it.

I am so thrilled to have a three and one half day weekend (and get paid for it!). Sharon was laughing at lunch and asked Ann to guess what I loved most about my new job...Ann tried to come up with stuff but never quite hit it. Then I showed it to her - MY INSURANCE CARD!!!! Man, that is priceless to me. I "heart" my insurance card. Having gone without any for a few months, it is even more precious to me. It's unnerving, mentally, to deal with not having health insurance. You imagine the worst possible scenarios any one of which could lead you to financial destitution if you survived whatever it was that was sending you to fiscal ruin.

Let me tell you - it's one less thing to worry about. I'm grateful. I am extremely, overwhelmingly grateful. Now of course, I hope I never truly have to use it, but I have to tell you it is a huge comfort to know it's in place.

Tomorrow I'm having brunch at The Oceanic, heading over to the 11:00 AM Wrightsville Beach Meeting and then walking on the beach and looking at it, wondering how much it's mood is likely to change in the next few days should T.S. Hanna decide to make a visit on our coast. I will think of Justin - how much I miss him but how pleased I am that he's working with his Dad. I will think of Katie and hope she's having a wonderful first week of being 25. I will smile as I replay today's lunch. I will feel grateful that I had the opportunity to go shopping with my Mom. I will smile as I remember the crazy things my Daddy says to me on any given day. I will then conclude that I am absolutely one extremely blessed woman and though I'm never eager to bid summer so long, it's been a good one - filled with gifts, great company, unexpected presents and lots of smiles and opportunities to say thanks. And then, I'll probably come home, dive in the pool to get the sand off of me, turn a few flips in the pool, look up at the stars and the odds are great that I will be smiling.

They Grow Up Fast...

Justin and Stephanie came in for a fast weekend visit. Justin came in to visit with his friends, but we managed to sneak a little time in with him.

His Dad reports he's doing very well. Justin has memorized the script and has closed on three sales in one week. Not bad for a former cook!

I talked Justin into pretending that I was a prospect and show me how he handles it. I was amazed. If I'd had the hefty membership fee, I would have written a check on the spot.

What I loved most, was that Justin told me that his father had pulled him aside more than once and told him how proud he was of him - of his ability, his work and his dedication to learning his new role in a totally foreign (to him) industry. The light that flashed in Justin's eyes as he relayed his father's pride in him obviously meant a great deal to our son. He spoke warmly of it. I'm so happy he's spending time learning from his Dad. This is a very good opportunity for both of them on so many levels.

In fact, Tim called me late the other evening to share with me his impressions of Justin's work and I detected the very same brand of pride. They're working together as men, who happen to be father and son, and I am so pleased for both of them.

Of course, we miss him like crazy, but this is such a good time for him to spread his wings beyond Wilmington. My friends have been at the ready with lots of phone calls, lunches, coffee, meetings, dinners and my parents have been extra funny and attentive because they know this a challenging transition. I appreciate all of it. I'm blessed to have the loving support. I'm a lucky Mom.

Katie is doing well, too. She's about to launch a new website on a topic she is passionate about and loves. In fact, one of her photos got picked up this morning by "Gothamist". (Way to go, Katie!!).

John and Katie spent last weekend in Litchfield, CT at John's Aunt Daria's country home. Next week, Katie will experience a big transition - she be busy turning 25 on August 26th! That's a significant birthday - a quarter of a century. I love teasing her about it. On 5 September, Katie and John will fly to Paris, France for seven days and then onto London for three. She's so excited and I'm certain John is, too. What a great time to be in Paris and to be there with someone you love. Magic.

Things have fallen into a bit of a manageable routine. The house is quiet, but it's OK. It's a time to reflect on how much fun it's been to raise these two kids and consider the next phase. But for now, I like remembering all kinds of warm memories and Justin and I made a new one this past Monday Evening - we shared a platter of snow crab legs on the pier at The Oceanic, went for a walk on the beach and yes, my dress got wet and I couldn't have cared less. Justin laughed and grabbed my purse before it got knocked over by an incoming wave. He wasn't quite fast enough to save my iced tea. After that, we went to Barnes & Noble and then took in a movie. Just the two of us. It was wonderful to share his company for the evening, walking around Wrightsville Beach with a young man who's taller than me, who opened the doors, made me laugh and behaved like a gentleman.

Can you tell I'm kind of crazy about these two kids?

Today at work, I spent about 45 minutes holding the two week old son of one of our newest employees. He was so precious. My eyes actually welled up when I thought of my own "babies", and then realized how fast these tiny packages grow up and all of the adventure packed inside of such innocent forms. Whew! I smiled as I handed little Christian back to his father, thinking to myself...you have no idea what you're in for.

Don't blink and hold on tight.