Cruising to Calm...

I'm happy to report that the Inderal or, as my Dad refers to it "Enditall", has resulted in a much more reasonable heart rate. I've dutifully kept a record of the past three days and my beats have returned to well within normal levels. In fact, I'm positively Zen! It's so strange, really, but my body feels like it's made a pretty positive readjustment. I'm actually sleepy at night. Strange for me.

I've also stayed out of the pool this weekend to give my ears a rest. Fortunately, there have been some really good movies on TCM, and I've taken a little extra time to tend to my cichlids, angels, mollies and other assorted tropicals. Friday, on the way home from work, I stopped and purchased the requisite feeder guppies, goldfish and brine shrimp as well as a couple of gourami's and a pink convict cichlid and the fish are doing well. In fact, my tanks have never looked better.

One year ago today, I had a car wreck and my PT Cruiser was effectively totaled. My gosh, so much has changed since then and most of those changes have been positive and healthy. I promptly ended an ill-advised engagement in the days following the accident - an engagement that should never have happened in the first place, no question, but thankfully I finally got wise and took care of business.

In fact, I haven't truly dated anyone in the past year. I've been out with friends, gone out to dinner, movies and even concerts, but not in a romantic sense at all and that, too, has been a good move. For one thing, I've had a lot of things going on and I just haven't met anyone in the past year that I would want to cultivate that sort of relationship with and I'm glad that I didn't because if I had, it would have taken time away from my family and this year was a pretty big year for family. I'm glad I was able to hang with my son during his last year here at home and also, not seeing anyone allowed for uninterrupted time with Katie during her visits home and my visit to NYC. I adore my family and I unapologetically covet the time I spend with them.

Not seeing anyone also allowed me to make a lot of cosmetic changes in my home. I painted several rooms, moved some things around, and definitely put some more "personal" touches into it. It's certainly not as noisy and busy as it once was when the kids lived here, and I miss the noise and activity, but that couldn't last because they had to grow up and move into their own spaces - continue their own adventures and journeys into who they are destined to become.

I've grown much more interested in aquarium-related activities and I enjoy fiddling with my fish. I now have five aquariums up and running. It's fun learning their behaviors and watching them grow and stake out their territory in their watery homes. They're much more interactive than one might imagine. They eat from hands and flock to the front of the tank if they believe I'm harboring food. The cichlid tank in particular is a fascinating place to gaze.

And could someone please tell me what John and Elizabeth Edwards were thinking this past year and a half? Have you been following his political disintegration? Can you possibly imagine if he had been the Democratic nominee and this had come out? And for as much as I have marginally admired Elizabeth Edwards in the past, I can't help but wonder where her brain was in all of this? Like his dalliance was never going to see the light of day? How in the world could she stand by and allow him to toss his hat in the ring knowing that he had tossed his pants somewhere else? That strikes me as a bizarre brand of dangerous and blind ambition and it makes me wonder if she wanted the power, the office and the attendant trappings as much as he did. How in the world could she tell the rest of us he was fit to lead us, after the risks he took on a very personal level with their family? I really think Maureen Dowd nailed it in her NY Times Column yesterday. Check out her column, so appropriately entitled, "Keeping it Reille".

I imagine it feels VERY real at the Edwards house these past few painful weeks. Just goes to show, you never meet anyone worth very much in a bar. What a cautionary tell-all that turned out to be?

I try to avoid making across the board, generalized pronouncements, but doesn't it seem as if attorneys are particularly predisposed to a virulent form of narcissism? Do the classes attorneys are required to take in law school sort of propagate such behavior and are the ones who don't make the cut, people incapable of becoming pond scum? Could it be said that if you failed to make the grade toward a legal education it's only because you have too firm of a grasp on reality? I can't help but wonder. Makes me curious as to what kind of plumbing system they use to service the water coolers in America's Law Schools - and at what point do so many of them truly lose their souls? I know that's not very nice to say, but it nearly feels valid.

I know that many attorneys have told me that law school is a grueling, difficult experience and demands a lot and, for a few I guess, it requires that they make the ultimate transaction - they appear to sell their soul and deteriorate even further into politicians. How sad for them.

Oh well, from having tended several tanks in the past year, lest we forget that even the most beautiful of tanks function better with a bottom-dwelling plecostomus or two to keep things clean and eat matter that the community fish wouldn't touch. I guess it's kind of the same with many lawyers. They serve a purpose and are sadly essential, but they do the kind of work that many of us wouldn't have the heart, or stomach, to take care of and attend. Although, well, now I feel guilty. I'm not so sure it's fair to compare my beloved plecos to lawyers. I really like those fish. Perhaps a better comparison would be carp. Yes, much better.

Anyway, it's been a peaceful, calm weekend here at the ranch. The ear is on the mend, the heart rate is behaving and it's still summer. All I need is a sailor and a sailboat. I think I'm ready for a little adventure.

Happy Summer!! Goodbye to a Faithful Feline and Hello to a New Job!

This will be a very fast update, with details to follow later in the week. Things have been hopping since my last update. Some events have been wonderful, but one in particular was very sad.

We had to say goodbye to our beloved cat Sylvester. He was nearly 17 years old and was in a great deal of pain. On 7 June, Justin bravely took him to the vet and he was put to rest. We all said good bye and I know, I know, it's a cat we're talking about, but Sylvester wasn't just any cat. To know Sylvester was to love him. We knew him and we adored everything about him.

It still seems so odd not seeing him around here, but he's not suffering now. Sylvester was our first cat, and joined us when he "chose" Katie as she and I visited a pet shop in El Paso, Texas. He was a gentle, smart, social and very kind feline. He convinced me that I wasn't simply a "dog" person, as I had erroneously and originally thought prior to meeting him. I was so sure I didn't like cats at all, but Sylvester enlightened me and gently taught me otherwise. Sylvester, in his own characteristically understated manner, changed my life. I loved him. We all did. With every soft purr, kneading motion of his paws and slow caresses on our ankles as he'd make contact with us, we knew he loved us right back. Gosh, I miss him that cat.

I need to send out a special thank you to three people with regard to Sylvester. Katie, thank you so much for talking me into adopting him back in Texas. You and Sylvester were so right - I was a cat person and he was destined to become part of our family. I know you loved him and he enjoyed watching you grow up, as the rest of us have. You were such a kind and faithful companion to him. I know you maintained such a special place in his heart.

I also must mention Stephanie. Steph, thank you so very much for tending to him in his final months. You were kind, compassionate and so sensitive to his physical and emotional needs and pain. You went far beyond the call of duty and I know he loved you for it. I know it was especially hard for you and I understand you had a very strong bond with him. Your care allowed him some extra pain-free months and you should be proud of that. We're very grateful to you and pleased that you are part of our family. You know, Steph, we miss you, too. You can come around and visit even when your boyfriend is at work or busy. This is still your home, too, kiddo.

And finally but by no means last, a special thanks to my Dad, who is the keeper of the litterbox. What a thankless job, but you sure are dependable! Thank you for all of your housekeeping duties. Also, thanks for taking extra care with Felix during this transition. I know he's become quite attached to you. Princess may have lost her husband, but Felix lost his best friend, and he's trying to deal with that so I know he loves every extra minute he spends on your lap while you work on the computer. I think you have a new best friend! Felix has great taste, obviously.

After the passing of Sylvester, Justin returned to the house and took Princess to live with him at his place. He felt that she should be with him, now that her husband was gone. Sylvester and Princess were adopted six weeks apart, so their bond was deep and intertwined. I'm sure Princess is enjoying living with her "father", and I know Justin and Stephanie are taking great care of her. And yes, Princess will be moving to Charleston, WV late next month when Justin joins his Dad in his new business venture.

Two weeks ago I received a call to interview for a new position in a completely different industry. I went to the first interview and met three very nice men who took turns asking me a lot of questions as they perused my resume. Later that evening, they invited me to a second interview the next morning. Fortunately, that went pretty well, too, and within two hours, my new employer rang my cell phone and offered me the position. I officially start on 1 July and I'm looking forward to it. I will be heading to Greenville, South Carolina on 30 June for three days of training, as this is where the company is headquartered. I'll return to Wilmington on 3 July, which will be a very special day because it will be my parents 62nd wedding anniversary. There is just so very much to celebrate and I'm grateful for all of it!

Of course, as excited and thrilled as I am with my new position in a few days, it will be difficult leaving my present one. I have enjoyed working with Sherry so very much. We have had so much fun most days that it hardly qualified as work. Sherry has taught me a great deal and spending my days with her has been a very special time for me. We can nearly finish each others sentences and not a day goes by that doesn't find us laughing about all manner of occurrences in our work days. Though I will no longer be working with her, we have made a serious pact to stay in touch on a daily basis and she has promised to keep me informed as to the more curious things that happen at work. Besides, she won't be completely rid of me. I have agreed to continue to install the SCRAM (Secure Continuous Remote Alcohol Monitor) ankle bracelets and will see clients and do installations on Saturdays. I find it hard to make a complete break because I enjoy working with our clients. Anyway, working with Sherry one day a week will make it easier for us to keep a weekly lunch date and really catch up with each other.

Finally, I am happy to report that the swimming pool repairs have been made and it is holding water well! It's being chemically shocked right now, but the major repair has been completed and I can't wait to take my first dip in it which will hopefully be later this week. It's SUMMER - and that means flips in the pool! I will be so excited to literally be "back in the swim" of things. Hey, it's skinny-dipping season!

By the way, I was given a brand-spanking new copy of the "hot off the presses" latest edition of "Insider's Guide - North Carolina's Southern Coast and Wilmington" by its esteemed publisher (and all around nice person), Jay Tervo. If you haven't acquired one yet, treat yourself to a copy. It's beautifully turned out and brimming with information, tips and facts for both tourists and even locals will learn a thing or three about the town we are privileged to call "home".

It's so strange to be writing these days. I've had scant time to really pen much of anything though my mind has been swirling with a million details, observances, thoughts and feelings. Lately, it seems like with so much going on, I find I'm keeping more and more things to myself. So many huge changes are taking place in my life right now - in all of our lives, in fact. My son is preparing to move to West Virginia at the end of July. My daughter has been happily ensconced in Manhattan for over two years. We're now two cats short and this house seems to be growing in size and echoing in silence. Not too many years ago, there was always noise, music, chatter, comings and goings of my son and daughter and their posse of friends. I remember summers filled with the sounds of my son and his buddies on their skateboards in the driveway. I'd peer out the window every ten minutes or so, wondering if I might need to make a quick run to the emergency room because someone didn't land properly as they surfed on the concrete. It's just so quiet now.

It's almost too quiet. The air is stilled as we slowly grope our way through new transitions, the ones where teenagers are now twenty-somethings who grow up and move into new adventures which predictably take them far from this house, but never, ever far from our thoughts, prayers and hearts. I guess on an intellectual level, you always know the time will come when they grow up and become admirably independent, and I am absolutely proud that they have. I'm also grateful for so many lively memories from raising these two offspring of mine, but lurking just beneath my pride and awe, is a lingering whisper of a wish that I could do it all again and again and again. These transitions take some acclimatization, I suppose, and the key feature to any acclimatization is the passage of time. I'm sure we'll get our sea legs soon, but some evenings, I miss Katie and Justin so much that it literally defies description and words are rendered useless; literally inadequate. Maybe that's why I find it so hard to write lately. The translation of the depth and sheer force of these feelings into mere words is difficult.

I guess growing up gets tougher with age. Separation anxiety can strike without warning. Thank goodness for e-mail and cell phones and particularly unlimited mobile-to-mobile minutes.

I'm still keeping a keen eye out for a sailor - if you see one with a nice boat who's in the market for a crazy, wild-haired, adventurous first mate, send him my way. But only if he's nearly perfect, great looking, sane, financially secure, interesting, brilliant, youthful and skilled. I don't think I'm really asking for too much...just something reasonably close to almost perfect.

Karen...Bobbi...I hate to put pressure on you both, but we're in late June now. What's the hold up, ladies? Shouldn't you both have "e-maled" me some prospective resumes by now? No rush...just hurry!

Getting Better Every Day!

"Sick as a dog, but having the time of my life!" Gomer Pyle - "The Andy Griffith Show".

I guess going out on a date with two younger, crazy men was too much for me. The morning after I had dinner with David and Chris, I woke up feeling like I had a tennis ball stuck in my throat. Fortunately, that didn't preclude me from having breakfast with my wonderful friend Sally, or going to work for a few hours, but by Saturday Night last week, I was clearly, without question, in the throes of bronchitis.

So how did I spend my Memorial Day Weekend, the unofficial start of summer? In bed, feverish, drinking tea, coughing and sneezing my head off. Not how I imagined, that's for sure.

Sunday Afternoon, feeling extremely sorry for myself, alone and having only my trusty dog Cassie by my side, I was laying in bed when in dropped my friend David with all manner of meds, a gallon of tea from Smithfield's, and the time to keep my mind off how horrible I felt. He even inducted me into the Blackberry Pearl fellowship by programming my phone and teaching me all of the fun things it can do. He was great company and made a very nice nurse even though I think he told me to quit complaining and "check this out!", as he would enlighten me to cool features of the Blackberry.


When he got bored with my sneezing and coughing, he would go back downstairs and visit with my parents, who made him a banana-split and were probably relieved that they didn't have to deal with me. Every now and then one of them would venture upstairs to see if I needed anything, not that I think any of them had any designs on bringing me more coffee or soup, but it did make me feel less alone and fortunately the movie line-up on TCM (Turner Classic Movies), was to my liking.

Also on Sunday Afternoon, my friend Wayne dropped by bearing a pot of daisies, soup, a beautiful wicker basket, a card and, best of all, the latest "hot off the presses!" issue of "Cruising World" magazine so I could salivate over sailboats I'll never be able to buy. Hey, it's good to hold onto your dreams, right?

Monday Afternoon, it was more of the same. David dropped by to check on me but was mostly interested in visiting with my parents, but when he did hang out with me, he fired up the laptop and as I was struggling to breathe, he was looking for property in Oriental. He saved about eight possibilities and now and then he would get excited and say, "Look at this one! It has a dock!", and then he'd go right on creating an organized spreadsheet of his real estate possibilities while I watched Claudette Colbert and Joseph Cotton in "Since You Went Away".


Other friends called and checked on me, thinking I would be seaside, but the only water I got close to was the shower which I would run as hot as the water would go, because that was the only thing that allowed me to breathe easy for a few minutes. David wound up his visit by driving to Smithfield's on a chicken wing run (for me), but he chose to dine with my parents downstairs at the table because my Mom was serving spaghetti. From the sounds of it, they all had a very nice dinner. I ate alone upstairs in bed but Cassie was kind enough to stay with me. A good dog is hard to find and loyalty, particularly in times of need, is a precious gift, indeed.

I stayed in bed most of Tuesday and didn't go to work, but work came to me in the form of a visit from Sherry Tuesday Evening. She brought dinner over and hung out with me upstairs and we watched a couple of episodes of "The Andy Griffith Show" and caught up with each other. As she was getting ready to leave, Justin appeared with a homemade casserole and I was so happy to see him! He took her place on my bed and we chatted, well, he chatted and mostly coughed. This house still feels so empty without him and yet it struck me just how grown up he is. My son made something for me to eat at his place, and brought it to me. What a sweet guy he is. His company helped me immeasurably.

Wednesday I did make it into work in the late morning, but before starting work, Sherry and I met at La Costa for lunch before going to the office. She wanted to "ease" me back into "pre-audit work mode". She's nice like that. I wish I could have tasted the guacamole and refried beans and rice, but I could smell the cilantro, so that was definitely an improvement.

My health almost took a nose-dive on Thursday, as I read about Karen's weekend in Canada and turned an unattractive shade of "envy green", but she wrote me a nice note which took the edge off and returned me to my normal color. It was a good save and I was happy she had such a nice time during HER holiday weekend. She is still on the look-out for a seaworthy boat (and a guy to go along with it), for me, but progress is slow and I understand these things take time. I'm trying to be patient KAREN!!!!

Friday Morning, I had the experience of installing my first SCRAM ankle bracelet. I was trained and certified to do this back in March, and March was a long time ago, so I was a bit nervous but fortunately I had the kindest, sweetest, most patient client for my first experience and really, it went quite well. He had a great attitude about the whole thing and was eager to take this next step in illustrating to the NC DMV his commitment to staying sober, so his positive attitude and cooperation made him an ideal candidate to allow me to test my technical skills and fortunately, we were successful!

Sherry and I are both working like maniacs getting ready for our 12 June audit and we are so ready for this to be over! We're going to celebrate in some form or fashion after it's finished, we just haven't figured out how yet.



My friend David (in Michigan) tells me he's going to put together a sailing program for us and I can't wait to hear the details on that. I'm ready to be on the water, in spite of the fact that one year ago today, I was spent twelve nerve-racking hours sailing in Tropical Storm Barry with a lunatic captain and a boat that felt like it was going to break apart with the next wave. I look back on that now and I can't believe we were able to crawl into shore in one piece, but thanks be to God we did and it was nothing short of a miracle. I'm also grateful that it didn't diminish my passion for sailing, even though I emerged bruised and more than a little battered. I can't wait to get back on the water on a viable boat with a knowledgeable captain who doesn't have a death wish and understands the importance of safety and weather forecasts.

I have relived the memories of one year ago today, but not in a dark way. I realized that tropical storm notwithstanding, I discovered a passion on that erstwhile sail. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the wisest thing to take off sailing in international waters with someone I knew so little about, but for me, that trip was less about the person and more about the water. The water, from the second I was invited on that trip, was the magnet for me. I wanted to finally know about sailing and though I wasn't really bargaining on a sail in such dangerous and dire conditions, I learned a great deal in those ten days. It has fueled a thousand dreams and if I'm lucky, it will be the catalyst of a few thousand more.

One of the interesting things about feeling unwell, even if it's just being laid up in bed for a few days with a bout of bronchitis, is that it reminded me of how much I missed feeling fine. Most of the time I feel great and like most of us, I take that for granted. The string of days, weeks and months when my health doesn't dip below the barometer, I just whiz through my days taking so much for granted. Only when I became congested, had a little difficulty breathing or smelling the coffee I enjoy every morning, did I think about how exceptional it is that most days I can do just about anything. Great health should never be taken for granted. You can't buy, barter or trade it. It is, in fact, a blessing and one I want to try really hard not to forget about or allow to go unnoticed. I need to thank God even before I pop out of bed each morning, that I appreciate the fact that I am waking up pain free and clear-headed.

A few weeks ago I bought a book - "The Last Lecture" by Randy Pausch, a former Carnegie-Mellon professor who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer over a year ago. Groping around for something to read, I remember that book and in less than two days, I finished it. I highly recommend it. It's an amazing book and it's filled with lessons, reminders of what is important in this life.

This afternoon, as I perused Dr. Pausch's website for an update, I saw that he had participated in the commencement address this weekend at Carnegie-Mellon. If you have a couple of minutes, I highly recommend watching this. If you find yourself in or near a bookstore, do yourself a favor and read "The Last Lecture". It isn't at all sad or maudlin. It's inspiring, funny and laced with a gentle, exquisite poignancy. It is also a challenge. Perhaps it is true that we need to recapture those childhood dreams of ours, dust them off and look into using them as a foundation for new adventures, regardless of our present age.




All in all, it has been a pretty good week, bronchitis notwithstanding. I am grateful to God, my family, my ever-present and crazy friends and yes, I am also grateful for my faithful dog Cassie and her kind company when I took to my bed. It is practically summer, my favorite time of year, and there are all manner of reasons to celebrate. Life is exceptionally sweet and I am uncompromisingly grateful.

And yes, I really am becoming quite addicted to my Blackberry. If you're in the market for a way cool phone that can do practically everything but make tea, you should absolutely check it out. Before long, you'll wonder how you ever got along without it.

Oh, and a loyal dog. You really need a loyal dog - maybe more than you need a Blackberry Pearl. Cassie is over ten years old, but she still retains her sense of mischief, silliness and fun. Those qualities are incredibly attractive whether you're a dog, a cat and I know I'm drawn to people who have a natural exuberance, a feisty, fun and adventurous nature. The world seems populated with grown-ups who act way too grown-up. Maybe we all just need to kick back and get in touch with our inner puppy more often. Cassie reminds me of that often. Here's to jumping into the ocean, regardless of what you're wearing.

Happy Summer!!

Friday Night Fun...

It's not every Friday Night that I get to have dinner with two nice guys. I must be doing something right...or perhaps it was just my usual dumb luck?

We were surrounded by some rather strange diners, but we had a really interesting (and delicious!) meal - It's a wonderful thing to be outnumbered by males! I rather like the lopsided nature of that sort of mix.

Not only was I in fine company, but while David configured my new Blackberry and set up my e-mail account on my phone, Chris extolled me with tales of sailing on the northeast coast. Pretty cool stuff, indeed.

There are caveats to being single - it's hard to double date like this when you're "attached".

However, Karen G., in the Great State of Washington, you are still in charge of due diligence and finding me a sailor. With a boat. Who is single, fascinating, energetic, fit and seaworthy. My nautical future may well lie in your capable hands. No pressure. :-)

And a post script to David Rowe in Michigan/Toronto - you really need to head south but I have to tell you - I think we definitely need to look into sailing that great loop you were speaking of on the phone today. I hope you don't mind if I bring Cassie and Magellan (Libby will love her!). I'll definitely have to talk you into that. It's on my growing list of things to do.

A Jury Summons Invites Introspection and Gratitude, "Sunny Came Home" and Happy Birthday to "Our Queen"!

It's been a busy couple of weeks since my last update. When I start receiving E-mail asking me if I've sailed away with a rogue, pirate captain (again), I realize it's time to update and quell such nonsense. I promise I've learned my lesson and I'll thoroughly check and recheck the next sailboat captain I take off with - you have my word! I'm silly but I wouldn't make that same mistake twice...well, certainly not within the span of the same year, anyway! And honest, I've sworn off ALL ENGAGEMENTS for the remainder of 2007. I'm firm about that. I'm practicing..."just say no"!

However, there's always the slimmest and impossible chance that the right person will drop from the sky, but UNTIL then, there's Hugh Jackman and, of course, Sting and his guitar...enjoy the music as you read up on this, that and the other thing. I love this video...it's just so irresistibly lovely. Besides, it's the season of hope, right? I just finished a story for PC Magazine on the technology of "bridge sensors" and I swear the entire time I was working on it, I thought of this song for some odd reason.

If you're reading this, I wonder, are you ready for Christmas? I'm certainly not but I never am. I would be deeply concerned if I was prepared because I'm sure something would be critically wrong. I've just accepted I'm not wired that way and my close friends and relatives know this and they seem to have accepted it which makes all concerned happy, joyous and free!

Let's see, since last I penned this blog, life's been spinning along, just as it's supposed to - in unpredictable directions, tossing in just enough surprises and challenges to make these days interesting, but I'm still smiling, writing this from my FRESHLY PAINTED office, surrounded by Felix, Magellan, Princess and Sylvester. Cassie darts in and out just to check on things and see if we're all behaving. Most of the time we aren't. She loves us anyway.

Yes, I painted my office. I consulted my artistic buddy Bobbi and she suggested a scheme that sounded great to me so I got on with it. My office was the last holdout and if ever there was a colorful room in this house, souvenir and memory wise, it is this office which my kids affectionately refer to as "Central Command". I have no real power, but it makes me think I do and I'm sure it's only been assigned such a nickname simply to assuage my ego and make me believe I have the tiniest measure of control. What a laugh.

But the painting project turned out lovely. I also redid the photo collage that now hangs over the love seat situated in this room and it makes me smile every time I pause to peruse it. It's reflective of my family which is another way of saying it's the center of my universe. The heart of life.

It's also the room that Katie and I hang out in when she visits, where we drink copious amounts of coffee and iced tea and we watch old, vintage movies and we laugh as we walk through the memories we've collected together, and share a few we've made apart. There are always animals hanging around and someone generally has a cat in his or her lap, and laughter wafts throughout the loft, permeating the walls and filling this quirky home with warmth, comfort and joy. I can't wait to share more of those times with her and it won't be long now! She flies in (IF she gets on the plane) next Sunday, 23 December. She did remind me that the mere fact that she has a ticket for a seat on that flight doesn't necessarily mean she'll be ON that flight, so she always reminds me not to count on my daughter before she deplanes. Good advice, but I'm betting she'll pull it together, squeeze John's impressive biceps, dig her nails painfully into his skin - possibly drawing blood - and make the flight.

Now, I love to fly but I hate to drive and I particularly hate to drive to Raleigh...ugh! I experience many of the same physical symptoms that Katie endures when she's inflight, only I do it from the confines of my car. However, this trip to Raleigh will have the added bonus of a visit with my buddy and artistic adviser, "The good pirate, Bobbi", captain of the s/v Kokopelli and I have accepted her gracious invitation to overnight at her home in Raleigh so that I can recoup my sanity that will no doubt be lost on the drive up to Raleigh and be on time to pick up Katie and John at the airport. Plus, I'm sure that Bobbi and I will have a fine time - two crazy women on the prowl in the bustling capital city of North Carolina. No single man will be safe, is what I'm thinking. I can't wait to meet Sofi, her beautiful dog child, and view some of Bobbi's eclectic artwork.

This past week, I was thrilled to receive the annual Christmas newsletter that Sofi dictates to Bobbi, and even more amazed to discover it included a photo of Bobbi and me taken at Bluewater when we were having lunch on Wrightsville Beach this past October. I made the newsletter! I was honored!

I also loved the card that Bobbi artfully designed and it is pinned to the corner cabinet that sits above my desk - a beautiful sailboat on bluewater, beneath a blanket of golden stars and a lazy crescent moon. One of my favorite places to be and, when I simply excise the image of the moldy man from the memory of my sailing adventures of this past summer, it becomes a very nice recollection. To be honest, excision isn't that difficult - he never braved the nightwatch and I spent many hours in the cockpit alone beneath a canopy of stars and the moon in various phases, slicing along with the sound of the waves lapping the hull, the whoosh of the wind in the sails and the overwhelming knowledge that there is nothing like being on the water to feel truly connected to the universe. I will never forget that sensation, the sense of awe comingled with the rarest brand of peace and I want to revisit sailing often in 2008. Again and again and again...Every single chance I get...

The County of New Hanover sent me an invitation in late November - they requested my services for jury duty. Now, I have to tell you, even though I know most people look upon jury duty as a huge pain in the derrière, I was kind of thrilled. I mean, I've been in a New Hanover County Courthouse in a past life for very unhappy reasons and to be invited because they actually "needed" me was a bit of a giddy honor. My family and friends asked me if I was going to "try and get out of it"... Nosiree! Not a chance! How cool it would feel to walk in there and not be scared out of my wits at the outcome, not to be on the "hot seat"! Ahhhhh, the joys and gifts of sobriety are wondrous and many. I sent up two prayers, in fact, well, make that three:

1. God help the person who may be on a trial I could potentially serve on a jury and help me to do the right thing.
2. Thank you God for allowing my life to turn around to the point that I get to appear at New Hanover County Courthouse for reasons having nothing to do with me.
3. God, could you please make sure that I don't have to run into one particular defense attorney from Raleigh because that would be cruel and unusual punishment and hey, I'm not the one in trouble here.

I am happy to report that my services were not required for too long because out of the 100 or so of us upstanding, potential jurors available to step into our role and serve, they only needed twelve plus a few alternates and I was released from my duty a short-time later and told that I wouldn't have to worry about being called again for two years, having fulfilled my requirements as an available juror. Whew! I'm even happier to report that I didn't run into any Raleigh-based attorneys so God must surely have decided I had also fulfilled my time served in the company of maniacal morons for at least two years, maybe more. What a Christmas present from a benevolent and loving Creator!

After the rest of us "citizens in good standing" were free to leave the courthouse, I almost skipped out of the building and I know there was a smile on my face. I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've ever left New Hanover County Courthouse with a wide grin. There I was, on Princess Street, milling about all manner of law enforcement types, thinking to myself at how profoundly life can change and just how much I have to be grateful for in this life I've been granted. I honestly felt reborn and, in a sense, I have been.

It was at least 75 degrees on the 10th of December under a cloudless Carolina blue sky and I opened my sunroof to let the deliciously warm beams shine down on me in the heart of the port city of Wilmington, North Carolina and you know that feeling that sometimes settles over you that communicates with your soul and reminds you that life is just so darn good, and how incredible it is that you are around to be right in the middle of it? I had that feeling and it has lingered with me throughout this week. Yes, life is good. I'm grateful and I am right in the smack dab middle of it and some days are hard and challenging and the coffee isn't quite right (not yours, Mom - 'outside' coffee). My checkbook is positively anemic with only small and unpredictable cash infusions from freelance work and working part-time for my friends, Danny and Sherry, and I have no idea how in the world I'm going to buy very many Christmas presents, but then I remembered other times in my life when my checkbook has been much more impressive, but my life sure wasn't.

There have been Christmas seasons where I have had ample supplies of cash to fulfill and exceed the list of gifts for my family and friends, but other than a nice, positive bank balance, there was little that could remotely be defined as positive about my life. I guess I could have best been described as making my way through life "hit and run" style - no direction, no spiritual connection to speak of, nothing resembling anything close to the definition I now understand to be "joy" and as for "serenity", I wasn't even sure how to spell it, much less become acquianted with it. I was aimless, and even though I was capable of putting on a good face, most days, my life felt dark and cold and pretty hopeless.

I was under the mistaken idea that a good life started with a positive cash flow and worked it's way up from there. I didn't understand that regardless of what First Union National Bank said, I was on the brink of bankruptcy and the worst possible kind - spiritual bankruptcy. As James Taylor sang in "Shed a Little Light", "you can't get no light from a dollar bill". Nothing made sense to me because my life wasn't making any sense but, of course, I couldn't see that or even know it until things got much, much worse. Thank God they did!

I was talking with a friend the other day and we were discussing personal transformations and I was trying to explain to him what had changed, but the fact is that nothing had to change except for me. Actually, what it all came down to was nothing more than a case of mistaken identity. I got my Spirits mixed up. The spirits in a smooth merlot were never going to offer me any long-lasting relief, no matter how many times I kept trying. However, thanks to a series of very fortunate unfortunate events, I finally met up with the RIGHT Spirit and, in the words of Robert Frost, "it has made all the difference."

This Christmas, there's no doubt about it, we'll be able to see the tree because it's not going to be hidden beneath a plethora of presents that used to obscure it as many of our Christmases did a few years ago, but that's OK. Of course, there will be presents, but the most precious ones can't be wrapped and many of them are completely intangible. In this, my fourth Christmas sober and shared with the RIGHT spirit, I've learned along the way what truly matters most and those things emanate from the people and creatures I love most and hold dear. Family, friends, cats, my dog and all of those colorful fish brilliantly swimming about in our aquarium.

Life. Life is the ticket! This house is just spilling over and sloshing around with it. You can't walk too far in this place without crossing the path of something filled with life and the love that fuels it - sometimes it's a grandmother or a grandfather, or a 21 year old young man and other times, life comes attached to a striped tail, a 50 pound bundle of canine goodness or even a pair of fins. Wrapped around it all, is THE Spirit that eluded me for so many years. The one that came from a "Higher Power" and not a glass bottle with a spent cork. Thank God I've spent my last cork and, to my friend up north, nothing is hard if you take it one day at a time.

I am reminded of that quote from E. L. Doctorow as he was alluding to the sometimes overwhelming and daunting proposition of writing..."It's like driving a car at night. You never see further than your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way." It will take you far, even all the way to where you need to be.

Now, not only did I receive some deep introspective reckonings courtesy of my invitation from New Hanover County, but yesterday I opened my mail to find a check for the heady amount of TWELVE DOLLARS! Of course, I'm going to scan it and frame it before I cash it. To be perfectly honest, I feel as if maybe I should have paid them. Who would have imagined such gifts from something as simple and mundane as the prospect of jury duty? With an infusion of funds like that, who says there's not going to be a Christmas on Nottingham Lane? I know, I know, I am NOT going to spend it all in one place. So many people make that mistake. Not me! :-)

In OTHER news of the less philosophical variety, my son FINALLY got his new rotors installed on his birthday present, and his Cobra Mustang is back in business. If you live within 3 miles of my house, you probably know that by now. This Wednesday after I came home, he bounded in my office and leveled an invitation at me...."Mom, let's go somewhere. Let's take a ride.". I didn't really need to go anywhere so I asked him where he wanted to go? "It doesn't matter! Let's just go! C'mon!". Well, who can turn down an invitation like that? Certainly not me! We hopped in the car and we went! We even wound up having a nice dinner together at McAlister's - just my son and me. Talk about precious and I don't mean that warm and fuzzy smarmy precious, but it is a gift for a 21 year old son to have the desire to take his Mom for a spin in his pony car. I looked over at him as he shifted gears, completely unable to disguise his delight in all of the glorious horsepower that revs that pony of a car. I was so happy for him.

I don't really understand that brand of affection toward a car, probably because I don't love to drive, but I know that feeling as I've experienced it whilst engaged in other pursuits. I guess it must be what it feels like when a sailboat is on a beam reach and the sky is dotted with white puffy clouds and the wind couldn't be more perfect if it tried. Or maybe it's the same sensation I felt sitting on the stern of a sailboat crossing the Gulf Stream, watching the phosphorescent wake sparkle in the fragile light of dusk, miles from even the hint of land and wondering if this must be what heaven looks and feels like?

Waves, water and wind inspire that same grin on my face and it all distills into a special sort of joy that makes being alive the best gig going. I was just thrilled to share it with him and I even pretended to understand the machinations of the engine and all that is a Mustang. Mostly, I enjoyed all that it entails to be his mother and for me, that is easily one of the best gigs going. Thank you, Justin!

"Sunny Came Home"

I have a very special friend in New York City who cajoles, prods, cheers, threatens and text-messages me often to remind me that I have an important project to take care of and a story to tell. I'm referring to, of course, my friend Glen who's an Art Director with Random House and one of my most dearly loved and most enthusiastic cheerleaders. In fact, I think he's the head cheerleader. When I was in a NYC a few weeks ago, it was so wonderful to see him again.

Glen and I have had quite a year - while I was busy sailing around the Abacos, dancing on various beaches and becoming increasingly disenchanted with an attorney who's mental seams were rapidly unraveling and coming unglued, Glen, for the first time in his life, moved off the island of Manhattan, bought a home in the suburbs north of the City, went to Disney World for the first time in his life on a fantastic family vacation and three weeks ago when I was visiting NYC, he and his family completed their Norman Rockwell existence by adopting a miniature poodle named, quite appropriately, "Sunny".

Through it all, however, he has been a constant in my life this past year. Glen has believed in my writing project since we had our first meeting in the coffee shop of the hotel I was staying in while visiting Manhattan in October 2006. We became instant friends and he's been an endless stream of encouragement for me in more ways than I can adequately express here. I wear a silver necklace around my neck that on one side has a cross and on the flip side, has the word "LOVE". It was a present from my dear buddy last year and a tangible reminder that I have yet another guardian angel who is willing to work with me and stubbornly determined that I bring my work to fruition.

Even though Glen was busy adding to his family the weekend I was in NYC, he made time to meet up with Katie, John and me and treated us to a great brunch at Arte Cafe and how excited I was to introduce Katie to Glen because they're both just so hopelessly twisted (in a good way!). In fact, as we sat down to a scrumptious meal, it was as if Glen was family. He fit right in perfectly and he and Katie got along famously. It was a special treat for me to be in the company of two of my favorite people however, the thought of them double-teaming me and beating me up sometimes causes me some stress but, well, what can you do?

Glen seems to have a special knack for knowing when I need to be gently nudged, pushed, and sometimes even SHOVED as only a seasoned, born and raised NY'er can, but he does it with love and I know always that he cares. He's like family and I expect it always to be just like that. As I've mentioned before, my life is sprinkled with angels, and some of them just happen to have Yankee accents and frequently call me on my bullshit. Such is the case with Glen. I want to take a second to send a special thank you to my brilliant, talented northern friend who plies me with giggles, sends me iTunes gifts to inspire me, and never loses his faith in me. Glen, you're the best. We have a date for the last week of January in New York - please order some of that fabulous snow that you and Katie love so much and let's go ice-skating in Central Park. Oh, and yes, I'll be delivering my submission because I know that if I don't, there will be heck to pay and I know you well enough to understand that you will never let me forget it. You rock, buddy.

The Heart of Love...

One of the most important events of this past week occurred on 13 December, because on another 13 December back in the year of 1923, a very special person was born: My Mom. We joyfully celebrated my Mom's 84th birthday and what a blessing of a milestone that is! She had a check up with her doctor the day before and she checked out pretty darn well! We're grateful because we love having her around.

She's something else, this Mom of mine. She cooks like a woman half her age, maybe even younger, and she turns out culinary masterpieces that can inspire people to fly from far-flung locations and a few have even been known to paint for their supper (right Billie?). She's easily the coolest 84 year old I've ever met.When Justin and I were out running around town to no place in particular, we ascertained a book, chocolates, jelly beans and cards and of course we couldn't wait until the actual date of the anniversary of her birth, so on the night of December 12th, we surprised her with her gifts and she was pleased.

The phone rang quite often on the 13th, with friends and family calling from all over the place to wish the birthday girl congratulations for putting up with us for yet another year. We easily have the best end of that deal. Whatever steely determination that is sometimes attributed to me, is the result of her donation to my gene pool. Maxine Cook is a force to be reckoned with - sometimes obstinate, fiercely independent and she could easily teach Martha Stewart a thing or two, but thankfully for Ms. Stewart, we keep her so busy that she doesn't have time to mess with such domestic divas.

The center of my mother's world has always been, at least from my front row seat of 47 years, her family. She tends us well and always with a glad heart. I've made her shake her head more than a few times, but I think deep down she's fond of my unconventional characteristics and I know any skill I have in terms of home repair and painting come from watching her through the years. I don't think there's much she can't fix whether it's a bruised knee, misbehaving kitchen appliance or a broken heart. If only I could get her to put faith in the power of Vick's Ointment and The Farmer's Almanac and maybe, just once, entice her to confess that she truly does love cats, she'd be nearly perfect but that might be boring and, given her obstinance, a probably futile pursuit, so we smile when she rages on about cat hair and the way Cassie sometimes drips water from her water bowl, secure in the knowledge that she loves all of the creatures in this house, both great and small. Even the ones that shed. Happy, happy birthday Mom - we love you more than you can possibly imagine. We're just so glad you are ours.

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...