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.

My Wires Got Crossed But I'm Reconnected...

While enjoying a perfectly lovely lunch at Bluewater this past Thursday with Katie, Sherry and my friend Wayne, I placed my Motorola Razr Phone on the table. It was warm out and the scenery was beautiful as it always is on Wrightsville Beach, however, while we were dining, something happened: Condensation was the culprit. The sad truth is that my Razr got soaked from the drops of water that slipped off our iced tea glasses and onto the table, pooling around my cell phone. Corrosion occurred and that's never a good thing. My phone was rendered dysfunctional. Don't you just hate it when that happens?

What I hated even more is that this necessitated a trip to Alltel which can take longer than time spent in a dentist's chair leisurely enduring a root canal.

My recent visit on Friday took three hours. Not fun. That said, it was cheaper than a root canal.

Naturally, I had to decide on a new phone and I am now the proud owner of a Blackberry Pearl. I'll pause at this point for you to be suitably impressed.

You should be finished by now. I'm trying not to let it change me too much, but it's pretty heady. At some point, I even plan on understanding the applications and what this phone can and cannot do. Any phone that comes with software and it's own USB cable definitely has my attention and maybe even a modicum of my respect. I am not intimidated though - I'd never give it the pleasure of seeing me sweat - I cooly eye it in a kind of "you think you're so smart?" sort of way. With a little applied logic and a few mumbled obscenities, I generally figure things out. It's good to have a system.

Unfortunately, Alltel couldn't transfer my stored contacts to my spiffy new ultra cool blackberry. The next best option was that the young man who took care of me, I'll call him "Larry", as that is what his name tag suggested, would e-mail my contacts to me. True to his word, Larry did e-mail me, however I am sad to report that my contacts were not attached. Where my plethora of contacts are is anybody's guess. My alltel rep took my broken former cell phone and I left without it believing I would see my contacts in an e-mail. I am not happy about this, as you might imagine. Larry, if you're reading this, I'm still waiting. I'm becoming impatient.

I am not, admittedly, a person who enjoys spending a great amount of time on the phone, but I do have a circle of friends that I enjoy keeping up with and I have no idea what their cell phone numbers are. I assign names to my contacts and never took the time to remember their numbers. DUH!

So here is my request. If you are someone that I enjoy a friendship with and we have talked in the past year, I would appreciate it if you would e-mail me your phone number so that I can store it in my new phone. I had a rather large cell phone contact list and I have cordial relations with 99% of my formerly stored contacts. You know who you are.

The other 1% (and you know who you are) were stored in there as well so that I could avoid taking calls from the handful of people I don't really have any interest in talking with and it makes it easier to ignore the call if I know who it is that's calling me. I lost those numbers and "warnings" as well, but if you're reading this and feel you are probably in that 1% portion of stored contacts that I avoid answering - no need to send me your phone number. By the way, if you are in that 1% selection, why in the world are you even reading this anyway? It might be something for you to think about.

Now, on a more positive note, my 'preferred contact list' includes good friends such as Sally, Amy, Rick E., Tim, Steve K., Michel, Mike F., Sharon, Billie, Tom F., Kathleen C., Tom and Myra, Susan and Don B., Alistair N., Ruth J., Jimi Z., Jason M., Mary Ann M., Erik R., Bruce B., Nina G., David C., Cheyenne W., Bobbi L., Glen E., David R., Fast Eddie B., Jules L., Mitch N., and a few more that aren't springing to mind at the moment. If you are on this list, PLEASE e-mail me your cell phone number so I can get you back in your proper "stored" position. I would say call me, but I have a real aversion to answering my phone when I'm unsure who is calling me, but I am finding it necessary at this time and frankly I do it with great trepidation because there are some people who I don't really want to get stuck on the phone with for an hour or so and I don't say that to be unkind, it's just the truth. Of course, I have the essentials - my parents, Katie, Justin, Pizza Hut Delivery, Papa John's, CVS, Dr. B., and Salon Beyond Basics.

Note to Michel in France - when you called Thursday, (in addition to driving, drinking tea and being newly reblonded but you have ridden enough with me to understand that), I was completely unable to answer the call because, while I could hear that someone was ringing in, I couldn't push my own answer button. It was frustrating because I could see it was you calling, but I just couldn't answer the call! Call me back this week so I can store your number and catch up!

I am happy to report that my air conditioning is a cool running machine and I am so grateful to Tom for dropping in last Saturday Night and making some logical suggestions and also to Jason for spending most of last Sunday charging it with freon and working so hard to repair it. It is a great thing to have fine friends and I am richly blessed in that department.

Now, as to the swimming pool, it is still a work in progress, but I believe progress is being made. Pool Specialists came out and are trying to affect a repair of a leak in one of my returns. We're waiting to see if their remedy worked. It's swimming season and I'm in need of some aqua therapy!

We enjoyed a wonderful week with Katie in town. Right after I arrived home from work on Monday, Katie and Justin's dad, Tim, pulled in the driveway and, soon after, Justin walked in. It was great having everyone in my kitchen and catching up.

Monday Evening, Justin prepared dinner for his Dad and Katie in his new apartment and they had a wonderful time being together. When these kids grow up, it's a special treat to get everyone in the same town at the same time and this was a golden opportunity. Tim looked great - I hadn't seen him in something like four years.

After the kids and Tim headed for Justin's apartment, I was able to make my home group Monday Evening and I had a warm and wonderful time reconnecting with my homies and finding out what everyone has been up to. I enjoyed sitting next to my buddy Steve even if he did poke me to introduce myself as a visitor, given how long it had been since I'd visited Rule 62. It was a very special meeting. But then again, I've never been to one that wasn't.

Tuesday Evening, Tim graciously invited me to join him and the kids for dinner at The Oceanic. Katie and I met them at the restaurant around 7:00 (I had already scheduled a trim and re-blonding and it's hard to get appointments!) and we had a really nice evening. It was most generous and kind of Tim to include me as the last time we'd all had dinner was quite a few years ago and under completely different circumstances. The meal was great but the company was even more fun and of course, we took photos before we left the restaurant. It's so strange to imagine these kids are all grown up. Though we have parented from two distant cities as Katie and Justin were growing up, Tim and I both affirmed that we had been blessed and were quite pleased with who Katie and Justin have grown into being. We relived some sweet memories, laughed a great deal and I couldn't have been more proud and even more grateful that we are all close and care about each other as we do. That is a priceless blessing for sure. Such a "GOD" thing. Powerful!

On Wednesday, Tim returned to West Virginia, where he is working hard in preparation of opening up a Direct Buy Store in Cross Lanes. It's a HUGE project and an exciting time for him and, as it turns out, it's going to be an exciting time for Katie and Justin. I was shocked to find out that Tim had extended an invitation to Justin to join him in this new venture. It looks as if Justin will not be lingering long in his new apartment because his father is going to buy him out of his lease and move both he and Stephanie to Charleston to work with him. Not to be left out, it would seem as if Katie is going to work remotely from NYC for her Dad as well. So I guess you could deduce that I was out with one seasoned entrepreneur and two budding aspirants on Tuesday at dinner.

I'm telling you, it was a big news week!

Naturally, this is going to be a big adjustment for everyone, but it's a crazy fantastic opportunity for Justin and Katie. It is going to be the first time that my son has moved away on his own big time. Gulp! My gosh, I'm going to miss him like crazy, as are his grandparents, but there is no way he could or should turn down a chance like this. I guess I might have to actually make a trip north to Charleston at some point in the future and, to be honest, I've never missed West Virginia for two-seconds, but now I'll have family there and I guess I'll be buying some Dramamine at some point for those twisty roads in order to visit my son. He's worth it.

Thursday was hectic. Sherry very kindly gave me the day off so that Katie and I could cram as much time as possible on her last day here. We had lunch at Bluewater with Sherry and our new friend Wayne (a native of "that" state), and then we went shopping and hung out until it was time to drive to Fayetteville late Thursday Night for Katie to make her 1:00 AM train that would deliver her back to Manhattan and John. As you can imagine, I was dreading the goodbyes.

Fortunately, Wayne kindly offered to drive us to the train station and, because of the late hour of departure, I was happy to accept his invitation. Wayne made a great chauffeur but unfortunately, he didn't get lost and we did arrive at the Amtrack Station in Fayetteville in plenty of time for Katie to make her connection. It was hard to say goodbye. It always is, but Wayne was great at keeping the mood light so it wasn't a tear fest by any stretch of the imagination. I behaved but I hugged her quite a few times. Hey, we had a delightful week together and she's happy, healthy and doing so well and her life is now in Manhattan with John and their two cats. I am just so proud of her even if she did have to grow up and move away from home and get all independent on me. It happens.

Except for a small detour around Clinton on the way home, Wayne expertly navigated us back home and I arrived back in Wilmington a little before 4:00 AM. With Justin now moved out, this house has expanded and grown obscenely quiet. Cassie welcomed me back inside and I made my way to bed. Katie sent me some funny text messages on her trip north (my phone could receive text messages even in its altered state). I smiled with every one she sent. And after a couple of minutes, I just wanted to cry again because I missed her so terribly. I still do. Indeed I do.

Friday Morning Katie arrived back in NYC and I sat at my desk and relived the week and wondered how it is that time flies so fast when she's home yet seems to crawl between visits with this sprite of mine. I don't know how that works, but it's painfully true and unfortunately reliable. Oh well, they come, they grow and then they go. It's life. It's good stuff (yeah, right). Life goes on for all of us and the sun still shines.

I went into work for a while yesterday and then hit Barnes and Noble because a book or two are the recommended treatment for the post-Katie blues. After that, my friend kindly treated me to dinner at The Bridge Tender and it was scrumptious. After dinner we went outside and sat by the ICW and traded West Virginia stories. In fact, we closed the restaurant! I got home about 2:00 AM - still stuffed but otherwise in good shape.

So that's all the news that's fit to print! I miss Katie and I'm already in preparation to miss Justin in a couple of months. I like to get ahead of schedule on a few things and realizing my baby is going to be way way out of town will be a challenge for me. However, what a comfort it is to know he's going to be working alongside his father, learning so much and getting to know Tim even better. He'll be well taken care of and in very good hands and of this I have no doubt.

Transitions are happening everywhere and I feel like I'm caught up in this wild vortex, but these are positive changes although I reserve the right for a little maternal sadness now and then. I'm sure we'll survive these relocations and have new stories to share when we do get together about life, adventures and living our collective lives in different cities, yet inextricably intertwined by the love that binds us all.

Note to self: I need a sailboat...this house is really too quiet. My kids have either flown the coop or are in the process of filing flight plans. It's time to take to the sea.

I've just got to find a boat with a ship-shape guy.

(Karen - yes, you Karen G. - I'm assigning this project to you. I'll expect full and detailed reports on your much anticipated and expected progress :-)

Hello November!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was only about an hour late picking my OLD friend Billie up at the airport this morning. I didn't think his plane arrived until 10:55 AM. I was WRONG! He was a good sport about it, but I think the Wilmington police probably thought he was a vagrant or something.

Billie has come in to help me paint my living room, foyer and hallway. However, it's not all work and no play. We had lunch at Bluewater and then headed to the South end of Wrightsville Beach for a long walk. There were surfers about (Rick, you should have been among them!), and the waves were starting to become impressive courtesy of what is now Hurricane Noel, presently situated over the Bahamas. Take it from me - it's better to be on the shore and observe these things than sail through them - I've done both this year and let me tell you, I was happy to be on the shore!

We ran into this wonderful woman named Sandy who, as it turns out, is a professional photographer and as we were taking photos, she asked if we wanted her to take one of both of us. Sure, how nice, I thought. Well, she took the camera and cut loose! You can see all of them on Flickr, but this woman KNEW what she was doing!

Sandy has her own website - Artistry by Sandy - and it's worth checking out. I definitely want to meet up with her again. She looked like an angel on the beach in her white shirt and free-flowing skirt. If I ever get married again (don't hold your breath on that one) this woman is handling the photography.

I then had to explain to her that Billie was JUST A FRIEND. He really is like the brother I never had but a better and more faithful friend would be hard to find. He's good people. In fact, he's salt of the earth. We're blessed to count him as part of the family.

After our beach walk and impromptu photo session, I had to drop something off at my attorney's office and then head home to change my clothes because, of course, I kind of got in the water while I was at the beach. In my jeans and Doc Martens. Hey, it was warm outside and the ocean wasn't all that cold. There were lots of people surfing and surf fishing and of course, I checked out several of them and their catches. All in all, it was a lovely day.

After I changed into dry clothes, we headed for my AA meeting which I am chairing on Thursdays for the month of November. Of course, I dragged Billie along for the fun. It was pretty amusing - he's never in his life taken a drink - so I'm sure it was quite an experience for him. I think he had a good time. We had a great meeting and a large crowd! They must have had no idea I was chairing...

We came home and my Mom had prepared a wonderful dinner. Good thing - tomorrow will find us painting and remember, my living room ceilings are 20 feet high - I can't wait to see how Billie plans to tackle the walls. But of course, I still plan on trying to get some fishing in this weekend. There should be even MORE impressive waves tomorrow as the tropical system moves north up the coast. We might have to take a break about mid-afternoon and head back for the beach.

Halloween was fun. Justin and Stephanie did a great job with their pumpkins. Mine didn't turn out so great. Oh well, in another life - as a homeroom Mom - I was known to turn out some pretty impressive pumpkin carving but this was not the year for it. Mine didn't turn out anything like the pattern I used.

I had plans to make it over to Wrightsville Beach to see a "legendary scarecrow" who lives on Harbor Island, but my parents got misplaced and I had to stay around until they turned up. I never got to see the scarecrow and I was deeply disappointed. I wonder if I can talk this "legend" into doing a special performance for me? I think he's susceptible to chocolate.

And never let it be said that Halloween is only for the young! Yesterday morning, my Dad knocked on my office door and I turned around to find Alice Cooper instead. I was a little surprised! My Dad was getting ready to go mow the grass, but apparently he had been channeling Alice Cooper and voila! You don't tend to see an 82 year old guy looking like this first thing in the morning!!!!

For a brief few minutes, I realized that I was the most "normal" person in this house and let me tell you, that doesn't happen often. Fortunately, he didn't mow the entire time like this - it got too hot and, to be honest, I think his "new look" frightened Cassie. She wasn't quite herself the rest of the day. The cats just fixed him with a puzzled look and went on about their business. It takes a lot to ruffle cats.

I hope everyone had a great Halloween. It was one freak show after another around here! I love this crazy family of mine.

There Are Angels and Good Pirates Among Us...I Found THE STUD, Got a New (Pot) Rack, Welcome Home Justin & Get Well Soon, Katie!!!!

Updated 10:15 PM, EST, 28 October 2007...

On 19 August, I had an over due final lunch at Bluewater with what I not so affectionately refer to as a "bad pirate". Yesterday, I had lunch at the same restaurant, with someone I had corresponded with and would never have known unless I'd met that "bad pirate". Lunch with a "good pirate" is a wonderful thing and unquestionably the better choice. [Photo: Susie & Bobbi at Bluewater, Wrightville Beach, NC.]

Bobbi had visited my blog back in the summer and she'd sent me a note in my blog guest book. Her expression of good wishes was genuine at the time. She didn't quite understand how everything had come to pass in such a short span of time, something many others found difficult to digest as well, but she's a dreamer, a gifted artist, a sailor and she still maintains faith in miracles, so she accepted the rapidity of the relationship as perhaps being just that and, like so many others, she just hoped for the best.

There were miracles in progress - I survived several storms, not the least of which was T. S. Barry in the Abacos. Eventually, in the immortal words of Sting, "I was brought to my senses", but even in the madness and tumult of those almost four months, I collected a lot of precious gifts. I met one of them yesterday and she was just as I imagined - maybe even better.

Bobbi was right at home with my animals, immediately welcomed by my parents and I think we talked nonstop for hours. She arrived at 11:00 and left after six but only due to the fact that she had a long drive back to Raleigh, not because we ran out of things to talk about. If she'd stuck around, I'm sure we'd still be chatting!

It was uncanny how much we had in common and the many points our lives had intersected, even to the point of having met some of the same people. The similarities were astounding and if our visit yesterday would have had a soundtrack, it would have probably been the theme from "The Twilight Zone".

We sat outside at Bluewater and smiled as sailboats paraded forth following the opening of the drawbridge. We talked of sailing, books on sailing, and I listened in rapt attention as she described her own sailboat and her recent sailing adventures. I shared with her what I had come to love most about sailing - close-hauled. The quietness broken only by the sounds of slicing through the sea. We talked of the mystical nature, of how when one is sailing offshore, life changes and is distilled into only that which is happening at that moment on the water. We both agreed that whatever chaos is swirling onshore, the moment the anchor is weighed and the sails are unfurled, the detritus that can confound and annoy us on ordinary days, recedes right along with the sight of land as one heads for the open water. Sailing is, to me at least, better than an "E" ticket and so many things that she shared about her sailing experiences were instantly familiar and recognizable to me and I know she understood my feelings and affection for all that is sailing. [Photo: Susie & Bobbi, Wilmington, NC.]

Bobbi fixed me with a look as we drank our second cup of coffee and then in a most serious tone said, "You do know it's an addiction, right? And you do know that you are afflicted. It's probably terminal.". I suspected as much, but it's always good to have a reputable second opinion. I think of boats constantly - real boats, not leaky, listing ones. When my friend Rick and I were crossing the bridge on our way over to the beach the other evening, we stopped and gazed out at all the boats anchored in the sound. I wistfully imagined being on one of those boats, the cozy warmth of the golden light being emitted through the port lights, the soft sounds of the wavelets lapping the fiberglass and the gentle sway courtesy of the wind across the water. It's all so irresistibly elemental, quiet and very spiritual.

Thank God my love for those things weren't extinguished or even slightly diminished by a series of unfortunate events at the hands of what Barney Fife could only term, "A NUT!".

As we were taking leave of our table, Bobbi slipped her hand in her purse and pulled out something with a ribbon tied around it. She handed it to me and I broke into smile. It was a clamshell, hand-painted with a setting sun and a sailboat. She suggested I untie the ribbon and open the shell. Taking her suggestion, because she is a good pirate, I opened the shell and found a floating key chain with Parker on it. I was told that not if, but when I finally get a sailboat of my own, I would be prepared and have a key chain ready and waiting. I broke into a grin and carefully placed it in my purse, grateful for the beautiful artwork, the "hope" attached to an empty key chain and, best of all, thankful that out of my messy and, at times, dangerous summer, I'd made what already feels like a good friend under the most unlikely of circumstances.

Thank you, Bobbi! What a gift of a day.

As Bobbi and I were sitting in my office talking, an e-mail came in as if right on cue. It was from another newfound friend, also courtesy of this past summer of trials, tropics and errors. My Texan friend, Sheri, had been visiting friends in Greensboro this past week and I dearly wish we could have met in person, but it just didn't work out (this time). Sheri, thanks for writing and your comments on the attachment I sent you Friday Night were hilarious. I opened your e-mail up with Bobbi sitting right beside me and we both had a good laugh. Next time, we have to meet up!

And in other news, my son, Justin, left Friday for a trip to New York City where he met up with his Dad, who flew in from Texas, and they both joined Katie for a fun weekend in Manhattan. We've missed Justin around here, but were delighted the three of them had this special opportunity to hang out together. I can't wait to hear all about the trip and hopefully there will be some great photos - I reminded Justin about fifty times to take his camera. He will return home later this evening and I'm sure he will be tired but very happy after hanging out with Katie and their Dad. [Photo: Tim & Justin in NYC. Taken by Katie Parker.]

UPDATED: 9:44 PM 28 October 2007. Dateline: Wilmington, NC.

I Have A New Rack and Found a Stud! (How's that for a teaser?)

Justin returned safe and sound from his trip AND (this is for your benefit R.E.), I did it!!!!!! Yes I did! I'd been wanting a hanging pot rack for over the island in my kitchen. However, have you priced those things lately? Well, I had so this set me on a quest to find a DIY (Do It Yourself) version and I found a kicky one on, what else, someone's blog!

I followed the recipe (it was a kitchen accessory, after all), and removed the tire from the wheel of a bicycle, scrubbed it, spray painted it, went to Lowe's Home Improvement for the hardware, where I was assisted by a very sweet and dedicated young man, came home and then realized that I needed to hit pay dirt when it came to the installation...(i.e., I needed to hit a stud first time around. This summer, my stud-finding radar was way, way off - totally missed anything close to a target.).

I was talking to a friend and he offered me the use of his which I appreciated very much but, well, I was ready to hang the thing up and we all know how impatient I can be when I have it in my mind to do something - can I hear an "AMEN!" to that Rick? Even though I will be seeing this friend tomorrow night because he's consented to go see "Dan, In Real Life" (the movie, not that 'Ol Dan'), I knew for certain I wouldn't be able to wait until tomorrow night to see my pot rack hanging in all it's black, shiny glory. What to do?

Well, what I did was take a very fine, long hat pin and pierce the ceiling to see if a stud was where I suspected it to be. Guess what. It was! My Dad and I had quite a time removing the bolt from the wheel so we could insert the eye bolt, but with two pair of pipe wrenches, we did it, by golly. I then climbed up on the island and, holding my breath and saying a prayer that I had, in fact, found a stud, I bravely drilled a very large hole and, voila, I hit sawdust! Just what I wanted to find! I had, in fact, FOUND A STUD!!!!

I then screwed in the 8" eye-bolt, attached two large "S" hooks and then ceremoniously hung my project. Nothing fell! Before long, I had the cabinet emptied of pots and frying pans and about five minutes after it was complete, Justin arrived home from Raleigh Airport. He was rather impressed with my handiwork. I took a deep, long bow and gave him a big, hearty hug.

I know, I know, I could have saved the pot rack story for another day, but I had to write about it because it is DONE! I wonder if my "stud finder" is working now? This could be good news all the way around, the least of which has to do with pots and pans.

"Oopsie Daisy, Celia"

One more thing, you need to read Celia Rivenbark's latest column. I read it as I was waiting for my Dad to find the pipe wrenches and I laughed myself silly. Fortunately, I didn't have any trouble installing the @#$%&*& pot rack or I would have possibly gotten arrested like the lady in Scranton, Celia wrote about. If you want a good laugh, check it out. Another note about Celia - she was on "Good Morning America" yesterday. Celia - we need to do lunch soon so I can get your autograph and sell it on ebay.

Justin is downstairs in the middle of carving two very LARGE pumpkins he purchased before he left for NYC. It's chilly outside and supposed to dip down into the 40's tomorrow night. Can a fire in the wood stove be far behind? Rick, I hope you finish building that firewood rack soonish. I'm dying to say, "Wow, you've got a nice rack!". Hey, come to think of it, I guess I have a nice rack, now...get your mind out of the gutter...I'm talking about my new pot rack.

Oh, and I got a new PC Magazine assignment...and a new deadline! YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!! I have seriously missed having deadlines...go figure!

Katie - keep using the Vick's and drink rivers of hot tea. Feel better soon, please. We love you.

More later...

The Cat On My Shoulder, "Extreme Makeover" Flies in from Florida, a Pirate Sails for Wilmington and a Beautiful New Star is Born in France...

Magellan keeps me on a short leash. If I look as if I'm slacking off or having too much fun, he reminds me I still have about 143 (rough, slightly over-inflated estimate) cabinets yet to cover in my Sherwin-Williams customized color. He's a tough cat task-master and, forgive me for being one of those "bragging parents" but he's growing into one of the most beautiful cats I've ever met, even if he is my "son". His markings are quite striking, as are his claws. I have the scratches to prove it! [Photo left: Susie & Magellan, 22 October 2007.]

It may be autumn here in the South but, blessedly, it still feels like summer. I'm LOVING it. The leaves are starting to change, but the warmth of the days deny that cold weather is waiting in the wings. Yes, we NEED rain and lots of it. Wilmington is dealing with a 20 plus inch deficit and they've implemented a fine for her citizens if caught engaging in such acts as washing the car, watering the lawn and filling the pool. I can't even remember the last good soaking we received. It's a pretty serious situation.

We've had no tropical weather at all this year, which usually dumps inches of rain on our shores, but the tropics haven't cooperated. One Wrightsville Beach "forecaster" I know had predicted a tropical storm of some sort at some point during the month of October, but he's reneged on his guesstimate and refuses to announce any prediction for the month of November. Actually, I had a bet with this forecaster that we wouldn't see any tropical storm formations, but I can't remember what was at stake nor, conveniently, can he. I need to start writing this stuff down.

The aquarium is coming along well. It's now got about fifteen tropical fish and two crayfish happily calling the place home. It looks beautiful and Justin and I have enjoyed the aqua-scaping! The space is much more interesting than when it was an aviary, and requires MUCH LESS WORK! [Photo right: Aquarium replaces aviary - more interesting and less work!]

I am still heavily engaged in redecorating the kitchen and I'm over halfway finished with the cabinets, but it occurred to me that there would be no getting around the fact that the living room would look nondescript next to the glow emanating from the colors freshly applied to the kitchen walls and cabinets. The real kicker being that my living room boasts a 2o foot plus vaulted ceiling. There's not that much to be painted because it contains a lot of exposed brick, but the wall area there is, screams for help in the form of yellow. What to do?

Funny you should ask. My long-suffering, good friend Billie called me Sunday Afternoon just to check on me and see how things were going. I'm sure he's already regretting his decision to call but it's too late Billie. It's just too, too late. [Photo left: Susie & Magellan, 22 October 2007.]

Billie is an accomplished man, talented, a licensed pilot and has impossibly bad timing (good for me, though). Not to mention - he's very, very tall and resourceful. He also has vacation leftover as we didn't use it all when he graciously invited Katie, Justin, Stephanie and me to join him in the Outer Banks this past May. After much lobbying and cajoling on my part, I told him we'd have a great time if he'd fly up and hang out with me as we tiled counter tops, painted living room walls and, my real ace in the hole, I mentioned that my mother was still a fabulous cook. I think that did the trick. He said I gave him something to think about.

On Monday, he sent me something to read about - his airline reservations. I love a man who just accepts his fate and falls into line. Billie did both. He will arrive 1 November and stay until the 5th. I'm already planning how much work I intend to get out of him. Sure, I'll take him to the beach, let him drive my car and we might even go fishing, but this will be a working holiday for the old guy (he turned 50 this past September, but we're not supposed to talk about it). I'm sure he can come up with a plan to reach those 20 foot walls. I know he must be sitting down there in Florida, staring out from his ocean front condo, shaking his head and muttering to himself, "How did I get talked into this?". Just luck, Billie. Pure, dumb luck. :-) [Photo above right: Justin, Stephanie and Billie this past May on the Outer Banks.]

This weekend will be a busy one. My son heads for NYC to join his Dad and Katie for a long weekend of family bonding. I'm sure the three of them will have a great time.

My NYC friend, Glen, who works at some "Random House", sent me the coolest commercial and case for visiting NYC. Click here: VISIT NYC! Yes, it made me homesick for a city I don't even belong to, but always have a fine time hanging out in...(Thanks Glen - Like I don't already want to come up???).

It will be interesting for me as well. I will finally meet, in person, my Raleigh friend - the good pirate Bobbi! I "met" her, via e-mail, when I was engaged to Captain Dork earlier this summer. We exchanged a few e-mails and, after the disengagement, we compared notes and found out he was more sick and twisted than either of us imagined (she has better stories than I do!). She was much to smart to ever date the scally wag, but she did crew for him a few times and one particular cruise had all the makings of a horror flick ("Dead Calm"). I'm sure it will be a lively, fun lunch we enjoy this weekend and I imagine we'll both have more in common than we suspect. [Photo left: Billie & Susie, May 2007, Avon, NC.]

Finally, France has a new citizen and Michel is the proud grandfather of a new baby girl. His wonderful son Charles and daughter-in-law Dorothee, became proud parents to a beautiful baby girl, now known as Pauline. Congratulations to the entire LeSeac'h Family! Michel, you beat me. I still just have "grand cats". Just think, Michel, one year ago we were bopping all over Manhattan and a year later, you're a grandpa! [Photo above right: Charles and Pauline, France.]

Speaking of "grand cats", I was dismayed to see a recent post on Katie's blog, and a very unbecoming photo of Boo Radley. Magellan laughed himself silly, but I thought it was a bit "low brow". Check it out - I left a comment, of course. Katie would expect no less.

Friendships, the Quiet of a Kayak and Looking at the Same Moon...

"If you choose a time,
then I'll catch the moon,
I'll see you there.
From wherever I am,
Wherever you are,
We'll find somewhere.
I see the same stars in the same sky.
Shining down on you.
I'll be looking up from wherever I am
And it's you I'll see,
If you're looking, too.
Are you looking at the same moon?"

~ Phil Collins, "The Same Moon"

Wasn't it beautiful? This past week, that full moon was something to see. I saw it from my bedroom window. I saw it from the sand on Wrightsville Beach this past Tuesday Night and I watched it dance on the calm waves. I heard about it spreading it's glow on Manhattan when Katie called me Wednesday Night to share with me how beautiful it was in her town. My friend Mike called me from Baghdad Thursday afternoon (my time), and he was looking at it shining over the desert. Last night I saw it rise out of the Atlantic as a glorious orange orb and, again, it was positively breathtaking. Truly, it was just something not to be missed. (Photo: My new shades! I'm back in business! 27 September 2007).

I guess it just kind of occurred to me that for as vast as this planet can sometimes feel, it's entirely wonderful that even across tons of miles and several time zones, we can share the same view, albeit a few hours apart, perhaps. I'm willing to bet it looked pretty beautiful in France as well. What says you, Michel? Were you "looking at the same moon", along with the rest of us? What a cool sense of connectedness courtesy of an awe-inspiring "la bella luna".

Connectivity. Whether it's via the portal of the moon, the sun, the stars or the water, its such a caveat of our existence, isn't it? It's completely free, dependable - save for a few clouds sometimes, but even when clouds obscure the light and you're suddenly pitched into darkness, you still know the light is up there and that, after a few hours or days or maybe even a week sometimes, the wind clouds will push away and the light will shine through just as it always has. That's such a comforting thought and knowledge and belief of the return of light after darkness, gets us through squirrelly patches we run into from time to time. I guess the seeds of Faith are borne and nurtured when it's dark and cloudy, and I've found that if I listen close, I hear a clear and steady voice telling me the light is still really there and won't be obscured indefinitely. Sometimes, believe is all you can do.

Sometimes, it's enough.

A bigger sense of connectivity comes when I think of friends and family. What a dazzling connection - talk about powerful.

"I took a walk alone last night,
I looked up at the stars,
To try and find an answer to my life.
I chose a star for me.
I chose a star for him.
I chose two stars for my kids, and one star for my wife.
Something made me smile.
Something seemed to ease the pain.
Something about the universe and how it's all connected..." ~ Sting

Of course Sting gets it. I'm starting to get it too, but with nothing close to his eloquence. He is, after all, STING! But still, haven't you done that? Gone outside and looked up at the stars and sort of toss a question out to the deep void of space, "What is this? What should I do? What am I really about and whatever it is that I'm about, how can I do it better? Why am I here and, oh yes, could someone up there show me a clear purpose and light a torch so that I can find the path?"

Hey, I've done it a lot of times in my life. I hope I'm around to do it many more times in the future. Even though it may seem like a futile exercise or maybe just a good excuse to go outside and star-gaze, I really do sometimes feel closer to some answer and maybe I am just a tiny speck in the galaxy, but I love staking out a tiny claim. I love my fellow specks, too. Well, most of them. :-)

The moon is such a stunning source of planetary interconnectivity, but even more compelling, is the connectivity of relationships - all of them. Do you ever stop and think how many relationships you have? What those people mean to you and what you may mean to those people? Friends, family, and of course, the animals we're "owned" by. I can't imagine my life without my animals and certainly not without my friends and family. I have connections with people I'll probably only know through exchanging e-mails. I can tell instantly when I "connect" with the author of a book that comes to mean so much to me and touches me in a way nothing else could. What about a song that resonates and you find yourself playing it over and over and over again until other members of your household beg and plead with you to give it a rest? Happens all the time at my house - just ask Justin. Lately I've practically worn out, "I Was Brought to My Senses". No question about it, I'm strung out on Sting and his lovely British accent.

As humans, we appear to be in possession not only of Connective Tissue which set us all up perfectly for "Connective Issues". Doesn't anything come without "issues"???? Hey, it's not always simple and easy-to-understand, but it's generally worth further investigation, this connectivity predisposition that can sometimes feel like a curse, but is overwhelmingly a blessing.

Having said that, there are a few connections where it's just best to disconnect. Hang-up. Cut the line. And who hasn't had a few of those? I've had a handful I should have passed on, but I guess they served the purpose of those darn hard-won lessons. Hanging up is an option I should probably practice more than I do, but curiosity often gets the better of me. I eventually hang-up though not hanging up earlier is probably, well, one of my hang-ups. Did I mention I'm not perfect? I'm sure I didn't have to - I bet you picked up on that something close to instantly.

But for the love of God, Country and everything holy, hang up on pirates. Just do yourself a favor. Skip the cruise and pass on all "Jolly Roger" types, unless it's the sour apple flavor of the hard candy. Sooner or later that pirate is going down. Skip those types of connections. Paste a post-it note on your forehead if you must, but remember the mantra. [Geoff, I loved your word scramble - it really was garbage!]

While a few connections should be avoided at all cost, there's always the risk of swinging too far on the scale which, I think, would be tantamount to "no dialtone", i.e., being "out of order", and rendering one unable to connect at all. This would set one up for a period of isolation and I don't even like the sound of that word, much less the concept it represents. It's just not natural, unless you're a gene in a petri dish, sitting in agar awaiting some brilliant, skilled scientist to isolate you and cite you as a culprit responsible for some devastating disease process. Personally, isolation is one of the MANY things I'm happy to be hopelessly inept at doing well. I think it's a completely uninteresting and terribly boring. Connections are definitely the better choice, I suspect. Over-correcting a course is probably just as silly as steering in the wrong direction - either way, you're not headed in the right direction and it's finding the right direction that we're all supposed to be about, or so I'm told.

I love this one particular clip from "Feast of Love" and no, I haven't seen the movie yet, but I've worn out the clips on the website. (Click here to watch Morgan Freeman give Greg Kinnear some fine advice..."Jump, jump - next time with your eyes open!" Morgan Freeman says it's OK to jump. Morgan Freeman is a wise man. I remember him from the "The Electric Company" when I was a little girl. He taught me how to sound things out and put words together on PBS, way back when I was in elementary school. If he says it's OK to jump, just make sure your eyes are open, that's good enough for me. He also says, in another clip, "I'd proceed with caution...". That's pretty smart talk as well.

But still, I'm just so grateful for connectedness, interplanetary and otherwise.

I didn't go kayaking this past Sunday Night. I went to dinner, instead. Kayaking didn't get canceled, it simply got postponed. Friday night, according to one expert source, the waves weren't right for surfing but they were optimal for kayaking, so I had my first sunset kayak experience. I wasn't sure about the whole thing, having never been before, but of course, I fell in love with it. It was quiet, like sailing in a way, but the view was almost the same as being 'one with the water' and, in a way, that's how it felt. My first kayak adventure was in a two-person kayak and I was in "first class" which meant, I got to have beverage service (Jasmine tea), but I paddled as well - and it was a lot of fun.

When I told Katie of my plans, she once again advised that I check the weather forecast first because we all know how I love taking to the water in tropical storm conditions, but I assured her it wasn't going to be that ill-conceived and/or adventurous. We paddled due west, toward the setting sun, and for a few seconds I felt like that "Bugs Bunny" cartoon, one of my favorites when I was a little girl, where Bugs is paddling after evading, yet again, becoming trapped, and off he strokes in his canoe, toward the setting sun. The image made me giggle.

We soon reached the marsh and it was so awesome being lower than the reeds. We saw heron, egrets and lots of fish jumping about. No dolphins, of course - I seem to be a dolphin deterrent, something I wish I knew how to remedy - but even without the marine mammals, it was still a "don't miss" evening cruise. The tide coming in took us around twists and turns and in places the clear water was no more than a foot deep and I could see the oyster beds as we passed over them. Of course, when we got to the "cul-de-sac" at the end of the marsh and it was time to return home, paddling against the incoming tide and current required a little elbow grease, but it was such a cool ride on such a "picture postcard perfect" evening. A fantastic way in which to spend one of the last days of September.

Now, if that wasn't enough, about an hour or so later, I saw the moon emerge from the horizon and rise to the sky and take it's mobile position amongst the stars, already present and accounted for, and the soundtrack of the languorous waves was the perfect accompaniment. There were quite a few people also enjoying the beach, well, save one couple who were lying on the sand enjoying taking photos of themselves with their cell phone. They were totally missing the moon but I don't think they noticed or cared. Ahhhh...maybe youth really is wasted on the young, as the old man commented in "It's a Wonderful Life", when James Stewart was taking forever to get up the courage to kiss Donna Reed.

I don't really think youth is wasted on the young - maybe we should just stop thinking of ourselves as getting old? Aren't we perpetually growing up in some form or fashion? Is there some ill-conceived rule that states one's youth must occur between the ages of "X" and "Y"? If there is, I want no part of that and that's certainly not some attempt by me to take away one-second of my 47 years (plus) years on this planet...no, no, no - I claim every single one of them and, if anything, I'm kind of proud for having survived so far, but just because chronologically I'm 47 years old, doesn't mean that I have to abandon any of the fun those people between the ages of "X" & "Y" have. I don't buy into that and I happen to know better. So far, I'm having a great "youth" and I project it will last as long as I do. Sometimes I think people really do go much too willingly and far too gently "into that good night". I've got no plans for that and I suspect I'll be in real trouble should I consider the notion.

It has, quite obviously, been a very nice week. I met up with Jimi for lunch at "our place" (i.e., Elijah's) this past Thursday. Speaking of not growing up, I picked him up from his office, crutches in tow. He had been walking his new puppy and from what I could gather, the puppy (a bulldog variety), went one way while Jimi was still going the other and he wound up with a sprained ankle. He took it in stride, as he does almost everything, except for that fact that his "stride" now came attached with crutches. It really didn't slow him down too much and he was even more amusing on his Tylenol with codeine, not that he needs it to be funny! He's generally larger than life.

We had a spirited conversation over salads and he even shared some of his tuna with me as he picked at my shrimp. We downed a lot of tea and I topped it off with coffee. We noticed to the left of us was what looked to be a gathering of the "Red Hat Society" but not a fun-loving chapter. They looked rather dour and Jimi pointed to one that seemed to annoy him by virtue of her facial expressions. We vowed never to appear that way in about thirty or so years when it comes to be "our turn", but who knows...nah, I don't see it and I can't imagine animated Jimi ever affecting a dour visage. He's just too infused with so much spirit. I imagine him to be an irascible old man someday, still pondering which tattoo to get next.

I received a package this past week. It came from Little River, SC, but it was actually by way of Baghdad. My friend Sgt. Mike sent me an incredible gift and, along with it, a "push" for me to get down to business. I can no longer spend my time in my newly redecorated bedroom relaxing and reading...oh no, no, no...he's served up the means for me to write wherever I am and is determined that I become more "mobile". He sent me a spiffy IBM Think Pad with a wireless card so there's no running and there's no hiding. I have strict instructions and he's a radar specialist so I have a feeling I may well be under surveillance.

It was a phenomenal gesture and kind beyond all measure. Thank you, Mike. I'll keep playing those Power Ball numbers so that you have a multi-million dollar check waiting for you when you return to the states. You're one of a kind and, as you remind me, another "gift" of having dealt with a few of the obstacles I ran into this summer. Good things happen to us even when it looks like we're in the middle of a mess and stumbling into you has been such a gift.

Mike and I "connected" this past summer when he signed my guest book with an aside about sailing. At the time of his signing, I was "forbidden" by Capt'. H(ook) to respond but, of course, I did send a thank you to the man who signed my blog, but at the time, that was all I did. It wasn't worth the fight. A couple of months later, Sgt. Mike read about my car accident and e-mailed me good wishes and a gift card for some tea. This was about a week after the car crash and a couple of days after I became "disengaged". At last, it was safe to write. He's proven himself to be a great cheerleader and has a kind spirit. I know his family must be so proud of him and I'm sure they can't wait for him to return home. We're all praying for that, Mike!

But I still think you have a coffee problem and, coming from me, that's saying something!

There is one important thing that I want to touch on that happened back in May. My Dad, as I've written many times, is a diarist. He's one of the finest writers I've ever been privileged to read. For my 47 plus years as his daughter, he's kept a daily diary. That's a lot of diary entries! I'm sure he could tell me exactly how many because he's got a calculator for a brain and he's driven by statistics but his motivation and power come from his heart and his heart, as anyone will attest, must have been one that God used as a proto-type in terms of function and design and the power to love. (Photo: Harry Burke & Barbe Cook, May 16, 2007.)

Both of my parents are very special and not just to me - but to many people. In fact, many of my friends have "adopted" these two fine people and when I was drearily considering the insensibility of moving to Raleigh this past summer, I got a keen sense that many of my friends were more concerned that my parents stay in Wilmington, regardless of where I went off to. I heard a lot of "Whew's", when I'd share that they had no plans to relocate North - they were much too bright to even consider the ridiculousness of such a notion.

A few days before Katie, Justin, Billie and I took off for the Outer Banks, as I drove to Fayetteville to pick Katie up from the Amtrack Station, my parents were privileged and oh-so-pleased to welcome unexpected company to our home. Excitement was at a high-pitch level! A gentleman who was CFO with the parent company that owned the coal company my father worked for before he retired, had retired 18 months before my Dad. Mr. Harry Burke worked in Chicago and was known, around our house, as the "big brass", but more importantly, the relationship that developed between my Dad and Mr. Burke segued into a friendship and has carried on long past retirement.

Following retirement, Mr. Burke left Chicago and relocated to Scottsdale, Arizona while my parents retired EVERYWHERE we moved (and it's been a lot of moves!). All during this time, Dad and Mr. Burke would stay connected via phone and e-mail and keep up with the goings-on in their respective lives. Even though my Dad retired in October 1986, 21 years ago, they've shared many phone calls, traded news, followed each other's family happenings and, in the case of poor Mr. Burke, tried to keep up with us geographically. (Photo: Janet, Maxine, Harry, Barbe & Marsha, May 16, 2007)

While Mr. Burke has been happily installed in Scottsdale, AZ, my parents have lived in Amarillo, San Antonio, San Angelo, Stow, OH, El Paso, Pembroke Pines, FL, Charleston, SC, Amarillo (again), and finally Wilmington. That's a lot of push-pins on the map!

Though they have corresponded and visited via telephone, they had not seen each other in over 22 years. On 16 May of this year, as I was driving to pick up my lovely daughter, my Dad and Mom enthusiastically welcomed Mr. Burke, his companion Marsha and his sister Janet, who lives in the area. These two "old" friends had quite a wonderful reunion. My parents were so happy to see all of them and have the chance to visit in person. Oh how I wish I could have been here for it, but I am told it was a wonderful thing. I know it will go down as one of the highlights of this year in the best way possible.

I haven't checked, but I can imagine it made for "red ink" in my Dad's diary. The way it works, if something particularly noteworthy occurs in the course of a day, such a birthday, raise, or some other milestone like a car wreck, tropical storm sailing, breaking up with a pirate (sorry, I couldn't resist), these things get what I call the "red ink" treatment. Now, I'm sure I've made for a few pens' worth of red ink in my references in these volumes - some of it even good! But I have no doubt that May 16th and the visit with Harry Burke made for a "red ink" notation and probably in capital letters. I know my parents still talk about that day and renewing their friendship with this special company. Of course, my Mom made a cake and I know coffee was probably served.

As they got things ready for their visitors, it reminded me of when I was a little girl on Sunday Mornings, getting the house polished and shined for either relatives or sometimes even the pastor (I was always particularly instructed to watch my mouth on those days!). There was always an extra "hum" and verve. It was very much like that as I left to go retrieve my daughter and I so enjoyed hearing about it after I returned home with her. That was an extra special day - a visit from a long-time friend and former co-worker AND a visit from a granddaughter all in the same day. My dad may well have had to get a new red pen for that one!

As I've mused about the way my friends have swooped in and taken such fine care of me these past few weeks, sometimes I think of my parents and all of the friends they've collected through the years - how they've kept up with them, rejoiced right along with them through good news, and prayed at the dinner table for them and through long, heartfelt phone conversations through difficult times. My folks have taught me so many lessons through the years, but the presence of friendships in their lives has been a paramount component to their quality of life and thank God I managed to pick up on this. Friends, as they've shown me by example, and the love of family, have been what's counted most in their lives. They've been both the recipient and the giver at various times in their lives and it's been patently obvious how they've managed to live such a rich, love-saturated life with a great deal of affection and kindness.

I've observed in my life, so many times, how this is inarguably true. Much more so than possessions or money, it is these intrinsic relationships that I think count for a life well-lived. I am grateful for my parents example, just as I'm grateful for, and to, the people who claim positions within my inner circle. In the words of Robert Frost, "it has made all the difference...". (Photo: I "heart" these people...Daddy, Justin, Katie & Mom, May 2007).

It seems to me that no matter what life might fling at us, or what mess we may find ourselves mired in, if we have a hand or two to hold, we're going to be OK. Maybe a little bruised and scratched and roughed up a bit, but it's going to be fine. I'm pretty sure it's one of those things that "matter most".

As with my Dad and Mr. Burke, even after not seeing each other for over 21 years, the "connectedness", that bond remained intact, viable and strong. It was nurtured through the years with notes and phone calls, well-wishes, warm thoughts and no small measure of prayer. Distance never compromised it. Time seemed only to make it even more precious. Is that not just the most incredible gift? Thank God for these relationships and ties that bind. Then again, thank God for a lot of things!

And thank God for the gift of the full moon this past week. If you missed it, you really missed quite a site, but don't beat yourself up too much - the calendar reports there will be another one in less than 30 days. Maybe you'd better circle 26 October on your calendar. I'd suggest using red ink.