Blowing Through The Jasmine In My Mind...

[Editor's Note: After posting the following blog entry, it came as no surprise to me when I received an e-mail from one of my "loyal readers". I am taking the liberty of posting the e-mail I received which arrived in my e-mail box within minutes of my posting about the sub-par jasmine tea I purchased recently at a Harris-Teeter in North Raleigh. The blog entry which elicited this response follows the letter from one of my concerned, but loyal, readers.]

Dear Susan - Since you would have expected me to advise you how much one bag of that sub-par jasmine tea cost, including TAX, it comes to $0.68 per bag. That is based on fifteen almost weightless little bags of that "stuff" at a cost of $9.99 plus twenty cents state sales tax. I don't understand why you would "waste" money for sub-par tea when you can purchase in bulk, at least 200, Lipton's tea bags at Sam's for half of that price. If you are going to SPLURGE with purchases such as this, why not spend another few cents for a $0.75 cent Dr. Pepper or a Coke? .....Of course I'm kidding, otherwise you would be suggesting I slip into Walmart and pick corn silk off of that fresh corn in the produce department and smoke it in my pipe......Sure glad your Mom enjoys that Liptons Instant tea. Please don't offer her a sample of that tea which came by FedEx today. I'd go "broke" in a hurry if she developed a taste for that jasmine tea.

Love, Dad.

[What follows is the original post, the one that triggered the response (see above) from one of my loyal readers - the man widely believed to be my father - though we don't have DNA tests to confirm this as yet. :-) My mother will kill me for that last statement, but it won't be the first time. ]

I must confess, I am a tea snob. I'm not proud, but it's the truth. I am a huge tea snob. My daughter Katie has, to some extent, been adversely and probably irrevocably affected by my vice. Her own blog is entitled, "Sweet Tea in NYC" and I can't help but feel some responsibility for that - though I am no aficionado of the sugary, syrupy sweet tea so prevalent and widely distributed in the South. I prefer unsweetened but, it's clear that from her years growing up under my influence, she has her own "tea monkey" to deal with.

I have an addiction to jasmine tea and it's not pretty...well, jasmine tea is quite lovely, but my affection for it is over the top and my love for all things jasmine, particularly tea, is fierce.

And not just "any" jasmine tea. I have developed a taste for Adiago Teas Jasmine #12 - and I can't help it. I didn't "Just Say No" when the first delivery arrived on my doorstep, courtesy of a Fed Ex Agent working on behalf of a friend in Whitehaven, UK - who spends his days as a British Nuclear Engineer and his "free time" as a councilman in local government and is no slouch in the tea department, having vacationed in Sri Lanka a few years ago, (it all sounds very James Bond-esque, don't you think?). He's a blatant and repetitive "enabler" and I find myself powerless to turn it down. I feed my addiction and quench my thirst far more often than I should but, to be fair, even though it's expensive, it's very healthy and let's not forget the whole anti-oxidant thing it's got going on. Don't knock it until you've tried it. I happen to believe there's some sort of anti-carcinogenic, anti-aging component to the stuff which only heightens my already deep desire to consume more and more...it's a vicious, but delicious cycle and one I see no point in eradicating.

The other day when I was poking around the Harris-Teeter in North Raleigh and, having run out of "the good stuff", I found myself putting back real groceries and saw myself placing a box of 15 tea bags which came with the unpleasant price of $9.99. Even though I half-heartedly attempted to talk myself out of it, I didn't remove it from my basket and yes, I actually paid $9.99 for 15 tea bags of what turned out to be sub-par, unimpressive jasmine tea.

It should be noted I did NOT stop by Dunkin Donuts and score a bag of their incredibly rich and robust house blend coffee. It's not like I didn't make some concessions. Though I wasn't proud of what I paid for the tea, I didn't go hugely overboard and make the over-the-top purchase of my other favorite caffeinated concoction

My guilt was further expanded when I realized that if my father knew that I had spent that much money for 15 tea bags, regardless of how delectable and exquisite the taste may be, he would, first of all, calculate how much each tea bag cost, including tax, and then he would probably tell me I had lost my mind. I'm my Daddy would have probably fainted, after he handed me his calculations of price per tea bag, quickly followed with an agonizing shaking of his head, muttering to no one in particular, "Where did we go wrong?". It's no secret, I lose all rationality when it comes to fine tea.

But today, courtesy of my car wreck, my friend and supplier in the UK, who has been guilty of feeding my addiction many times before, sent me 16 glorious ounces of this prized, irresistible, seductive tea, as a get-well gesture and I have to tell you, that receiving this tea nearly made the bruises and lacerations worth the trouble. I am in tea heaven and I find myself handling it as if it were an sac of gold or platinum. This is the good stuff, the real deal, the best of the best the tea world has to offer. I'm so glad my British friend didn't let that whole miserable period of history when our countries were a bit "at odds" come between kindness and friendship. The Brits are a fine people and a generous lot, at that.

Thank you Mr. Norwood. I know it will result in a more speedy recovery and I will toast you from across the pond and please know that this most delightful "get well" gift, will be savored drop by precious drop - over ice, because I like it like that!

I feel better already! Bless you!

Post Crash Update and Shout-Outs...

[To read about the actual car crash - click here: Crash Test, Dummy]

The ER Experts got it wrong. They said the really "painful" day would be the third one (Sunday), but I didn't find that to be the case. Yesterday was when the pain came a-knocking! I guess my neck and back got knocked around when that airbag slammed me in the face! Yesterday I found myself moving around like a really old woman! My own mother is 83 and she was whizzing around this place with far more ease than I felt! Hopefully today I'll start to see some much anticipated improvement and my body will begin to feel "more normal" and my "normal" feels much better than 47, but right now, I'd settle for feeling my age!

I did catch up on my sleep yesterday. Maybe it was the flexeril or perhaps I was just finally exhausted enough, but I slept through several June Allyson movies, who was the featured actress on TCM. Even perky June Allyson flicks couldn't keep me from catching a lot of Zzzzzzz's, and three of them featured Jimmy Stewart so, there you go, you KNOW I had to be feeling poorly to miss the chance to see him.

But what I need, is to say how much it meant to me to hear from my friends and readers. I want to thank everyone who checked in via phone, e-mail and text messages!! (When you're lying in bed reliving a head-on collision - you get excited when something diverts your attention and you get messages from the outside world!) A special thank you to my daughter Katie, who called from NYC and even surreptitiously called my parents to make sure I really was telling her the truth, and that I wasn't seriously injured. And to Amy, Jim (in Amarillo), David, Bobby, Kathleen, Glen, Sharon, Ali, Verd (on the edge of corn), Nic, David C., Shane, Billie, Michel, Bruce, Jimi and I'm sure I'm forgetting a few, thank you so much for your good wishes and concern and sweet notes and voice mails and funny texts! I really needed some cheering up yesterday because I think it all just sort of took that long to sink in and hit me! My son Justin even brought me another large iced tea and chicken wings!

I've also discovered that chocolate seems to have curative powers or maybe I just feel unapologetically entitled to eat more of it than usual. No, I'm sure that there's a therapeutic effect to eating deep, dark, dangerously decadent chocolate and if there's not, it must have some kind of mood elevator because I always feel happier after a few hits of it! I wonder if I could get a doctor to write a script for more chocolate? And ice cream - or does that only work for tonsils? No wait, ice cream has to be good for you, it's loaded with calcium and I think we can all agree you need that for strong bones, right? Well, my bones need a nice pat on the marrow for not breaking, so I'm going to treat them today. But I'm only eating the ice cream as a calcium-delivery system. I'm sure I won't enjoy it. :-) I'll just have to force myself to "take my medicine". It's not easy being in my "condition".

I hated spending most of the day in bed yesterday, but I honestly couldn't move enough to do anything about it! Of course, my parents were their usual attentive selves and at the ready if I needed anything. Mostly what I needed was just plain sleep, I think, and from the feel of it, I might catch a few more hours of it today. I HATE sleeping away a day in hot, summery August, but maybe my body's got a point and I need to finish reading a couple of books I'm knee deep in anyway. I spoke with a friend last night, during one of my more lucid intervals, and he worked hard to erase any guilt I might be feeling for spending the day in bed and suggested I do the same today. I love it when people give me advice that I want to hear!

It was interesting to note that some of you shared with me that I popped in your mind on Friday - kind of out of the blue - I wonder if there is some telepathic connection? People have popped in my mind before on days when something out of the ordinary happened to them. I wonder what the source of such thoughts is? Is there a connection? Can we feel when someone we know is in the middle of a strange and/or dangerous experience or they are facing a challenge?

Thanks again, my friends, and feel free to send up a few prayers - they are much appreciated and I don't think you can ever have too many of them. Stay in touch because it's boring being homebound like this! Hopefully I'll be out and about sooner rather than later and it will be nice to get out of pajamas!

I hope everyone has a wonderful Tuesday and I'm looking forward to feeling my normal (whatever that is), abnormal self! Be careful out there if you're driving...and watch those traffic lights - some people just don't see them! I wouldn't wish these past few days, particularly yesterday, even on an oral surgeon!

Stay in touch - it means the world to me. Send me some news from the outside world! Make it up if you have to - I really won't know the difference!

Crash Test, Dummy

If it was, in fact, a "crash test", I think I may have passed. The fact that I'm alive and kicking and able to write about my unexpected "exam", at the very least, testifies to the fact that I was spared to tell the tale. That's got to count for something, right?

Friday Morning, I headed out at around 10:10 for a 10:40 AM appointment to have my car serviced. I ran back in the house three times - looking for my shoes, my iced tea and something else which I can't even remember.

Somewhere in another part of Wilmington, a 34 year old woman and her daughter were in their car, having driven in from Lumberton, and she was lost and looking for I-40.

I stopped within about an eighth of a mile from my destination and moved into the lane that would allow me to turn left after the light changed from red to green. When the light changed, I began making my left hand turn and right in the middle of that turn, the woman from Lumberton who was looking for I-40, forgot to notice she was about to run a red light and, instead of the interstate, she found me and smacked right into my car, sending me into a spin.

When my car finally came to an unexpected screeching halt, I sat there with an airbag in my face, a crumpled left arm, a few cuts and bruises and feeling dizzy and completely disoriented. She landed about 200 yards from where I sat and I remember sitting in my car, pushing the now deflated airbag out of my face, and shaking. I remember shaking a lot. My heart was pounding and I wondered if I was seriously hurt and I remember thinking that I needed to breathe.

Within seconds, a very kind man in a pickup truck rushed over to me, leaving his vehicle in the middle of the intersection, and he asked me if I was OK? He was very sweet and appeared genuinely concerned. I remember thinking, I have to get up out of this car and walk. I need to walk. I need to move. I could literally feel my heart beating like a snare drum, but I needed to make certain my other parts were working. I skittishly looked down to see if there was any blood. My arm began blowing up like a balloon and I could almost see the bruises forming, collected pools of blood just beneath the surface of my skin. I was very aware of my breathing and I was afraid I would start hyperventilating which would signal a loss of control on my part and I was very keen on staying in control. "Slow down. Breathe slowly. You're OK.", became my mantra and I was determined to keep repeating it until I actually bought into the idea that I was, in fact, OK.

I kept glancing at the vehicle that hit me and it was several minutes before anyone emerged from it. I didn't see any visible damage to the other car from the vantage point of my car, but my PT Cruiser looked as if it had hit a brick wall. In the floor of my car, coins lay scattered about and my phone charger cord was tangled around my iPod and fine dust was suspended in the air, from the sudden explosive deployment of the airbags which prevented me from being thrown through the windshield. I was still seatbelted in, but I had a desperate urge to move in order to prove, if only to myself, that I could.

Within minutes, a female paramedic was hunched down beside me, asking me if I was OK? Good question! As it turned out I was curious about that myself. I could hear my heart beating in my ears and I had the strong desire to walk and walk and walk and shake myself out of the fog that had settled around my brain. I had a strong suspicion that a hospital visit was looming in my immediate future and this added to my stress, which no doubt added to my heart rate.

Many times during these recent late spring and summer months, I have felt that I wouldn't want to exchange places with anyone, thoroughly enjoying my life to the extent that I wouldn't want to miss a single one of the magical moments I have experienced. Friday Morning, however, I would have given anything NOT to be me. I knew instinctively that even the shuddering thought of being prepped for a root canal would be a step up from my present location at the intersection of "car" and "wreck".

The sweet, perky paramedic took my blood pressure which, interestingly enough, reported systolic and diastolic numbers within normal range. My pulse, however, was an entirely different story and she grimaced as she tried to count the beats. "Your heart rate is 170 right now - you're in shock, ma'am.".

Yikes! Not good! I could have done without that information. The mention of that figure, and her obvious alarm at the number of beats per minute, probably cranked things even higher.

She told me we needed to get in the ambulance and get a monitor on me. She asked me if I could walk with her. My answer was two-fold: Yes, I could walk but no, I'd rather pass on the whole monitoring plan.

"Yes, but I don't want to lay on the stretcher and I don't want a monitor because if I do that, I will become convinced that I'm not OK and so if it's all the same to you, I'll just sit in your ambulance."

She smiled and hesitantly agreed to the terms of my condition.

I asked her for a drink of water and she said she couldn't do that until I was checked out at the hospital. I kept asking anyway. The answer was always the same, but I desperately wanted some water.

As I followed her to the ambulance, we passed by the woman who had been driving the other vehicle and in a trembling, tearful utterance, she spoke, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I hit your car.". I remember telling her that I was sure she hadn't done it intentionally and I kept walking. I don't think I was still too sure of what had just happened to me. The feeling of unreality was disconcerting, to say the least. It's sort of like I cognitively knew that I had just been in a wreck, but there was this other "feeling" that I was not completely aware of what had just transpired. It was very much an "out of body" experience - like when you get a sense of watching yourself rather than being yourself.

Taking the proffered hand of a male EMT, I climbed up into the paramedic's truck and sat down on the bench facing the stretcher that they were trying their best to entice me to lie down on. I quietly, but firmly, protested and told them that it would be better for all of us if I just sat on the bench. My EMT Trio kept trying to convince me that to take them up on their offer didn't mean I was more injured, but that they really would love to monitor my heart. I thought about it, but again, it just didn't strike me as the thing to do. I will have to admit, however, that I respected their tenacity.

During the course of our negotiations, we compromised and I allowed them to place a clip on my finger which would report my heart rate, but no monitors, please. I mean, you have to draw the line somewhere, right? Give them an index finger and they want to place leads on your chest. Isn't that just typical? :-)

The paramedics exchanged amused glances with each other and decided that perhaps it might be the best course not to push their point, God Bless them. I told them I wasn't trying to be difficult, but explained that for me to lie on a stretcher would make me think I was dying and I'd prefer to stay away from such ideas and that if I allowed myself to believe that I was seriously injured, they'd have to deal with a massive panic attack and I wanted to save all of us from that if possible.

Within a few more minutes, the other driver and her 15 year old daughter joined our merry little group in the ambulance and the 15 year old had no issues with laying on a stretcher and happily allowed herself to be tended to. Her mother started complaining of chest pains and, while I was sorry that she wasn't feeling on top of her game, I remember thinking, "There you go people, now you have someone to play the part of a patient and you can leave me quietly to my anxiety." Every few minutes, the male EMT would pull out the finger monitor and place it on the index finger of my right hand and as he did so, I would search his face as he calibrated my pulse rate. He kept frowning..."Your pulse is very high - it's 165. You really should be lying down...".

Being well-trained in the "the glass is half-full" school of thought, I came back with a more positive spin; "165? That's great! It's coming down! It was 170 bpm a few minutes ago - it's a good trend! Let's celebrate!".

He just looked at me like I was a nut but he always grinned, even if he did shake his head as if to wonder what kind of a freak I was.

"Do I look OK?", I queried several times, not out of vanity but as a means to assess my "condition". I wondered if my pupils were equal and not dialated because I was seriously afraid of a head injury for some reason. He swore I didn't exhibit any signs of a person with a concussion - I can't help but wonder, however, if he didn't indeed think I was a "head case". I didn't bother to press the issue.

"You look a lot better than I would if I had a pulse of 165!", he cheerfully said in an effort to make me feel better, I'm sure. "If my pulse was that high, I wouldn't be sitting up arguing about laying on a stretcher!".

Gee, thanks. I think.

On the way to the hospital, I pulled out my cell phone because there were two calls I needed to make but I wanted to be careful of the tone I used, so as not to create unnecessary panic. We didn't need any additional panic - I had enough panic going on for several people, and I dearly didn't want to scare my parents to death - so my next challenge was how to inform them without causing them to require the assistance of their own set of paramedics! I decided I would try and be "light" with the news and get off the phone as fast as I could.

I dialed my parents number and my dad answered, "Daddy, I had a wreck - it wasn't my fault, but my car got smashed and they're taking me to the hospital."

"Are you OK? Are you hurt?".

"I'm OK - my arm is a little bruised, but I think I'm just fine otherwise."

"I'm leaving right now. I'll see you in a few minutes.", he said, no doubt fighting to sound as casual as I was trying to sound, but I'm sure he was scared to death.

When we pulled into the hospital ER, the paramedic who had been sneaking in pulse readings from my finger, informed me that I would have to sit in a wheelchair because if they found out what my heart rate was and saw that I had "walked in", he would lose his job. I thought about that and decided I could handle the wheelchair issue. I promised him I would not be the source of his firing and agreed to be wheeled into the ER - as long as I was sitting in an upright position. Detente is a good thing and I understood his position.

A few minutes after being wheeled into the ER, I saw my Dad at the information desk and I said, "Hey Daddy!", in a voice loud enough for him to find me. He walked over and gave me a big, heartfelt, relieved hug. I showed him my arm and told him I thought I was really OK. Just kind of shook up. I think seeing me ambulatory offered him instant relief - that and the fact that my next words to him were, "Daddy, could you see if you can find a cafeteria and get me an iced tea?" He smiled, and set about on his mission. I guess he figured if I was thinking of iced tea, I couldn't be too bad off.

He asked me to call my Mom on the cell phone and let her know I was OK and I happily made that call. By now, I felt more in control of myself and I wanted to ease her angst. "I'm OK, Mom. Just a little banged up.". She asked me if she could tell Justin and I said, "Sure - but tell him I'm OK.".

Within about fifteen minutes, I saw my son and his girlfriend walking toward me and he enveloped me in a big hug. He had stopped at Smithfield's on the way to the hospital and brought me a very large sweet iced tea. I was so appreciative and realized that this kid knows me pretty well. I started gulping it down with no thought to the directive not to take anything by mouth until I was seen by a doctor.

Justin asked me if I needed for him to call Katie or anyone else. I told him he could call Katie. Justin went outside and rang up Katie who, in a moment of deductive reasoning, told her co-worker, Eric, that she knew something had happened because her brother never called her before noon and that whatever it was, must be serious.

I was seen by a triage nurse and she, too, frowned at my pulse rate which was now a much more reasonable 156, and after I told her it had been 170, she didn't think 156 was so bad after all. I was directed to the waiting area and told that I would be called when it was my turn. I breathed a huge sigh of relief because I figured if they were willing to let me wait among the masses, I couldn't be too seriously hurt. I was happy to be told to wait and didn't bother giving any grief to the clerk who came over and clasped a hospital bracelet around my wrist. Even I know you have to pick your battles.

A few minutes went by and a serious looking State Trooper came over and handed me my driver's license, which I had given to him at the scene of the crash. I started to tell him that it wasn't my fault - I had waited until the light changed to green before making my turn, but he immediately told me that the other driver had been cited and that she had been lost and "wasn't from around here". He gave me a slip of paper with her insurance information, driver's license number and name and address, so we could turn it into our insurance rep. He went on to tell me that my car was considered totaled and that my medical bills would be covered by her insurance company. He gave us a card with the name of the towing company and that I could call and make arrangements to go and retrieve my belongings out of my car. He wound up our talk by saying he hoped I felt better and that everything would be OK.

Whew! It was nice to get the official notice that I was in the clear. I'm sure my pulse was probably reduced by 20 beats following that short conversation. It's nice to be on the good side of "the law".

Justin and Stephanie sat and waited with my Dad and me for about an hour, and then Justin left to take Stephanie to work, secure in the knowledge that I really was OK. As I sat there between my Dad and Justin, I felt so much better and safe and protected. Two of my favorite guys were propping me up with their care and concern and I began to realize just how fortunate I was to be loved by my family.

Soon enough, my name was called.

We were directed to an examination room and a nurse walked in and asked me the same questions that the triage nurse had posed. Did they imagine I might answer differently or use an "alias"? Were these trick questions? Again, I dutifully answered

The PA came in and gave me a thorough going over. He performed basic neurological tests that at least confirmed the presence of a brain, surveyed my body for bruises and bumps, checked my reflexes and studied the open wound on my arm. He told me that he didn't think my arm was broken, but that he wanted an x-ray to confirm that, and he also told me I would be getting a tetanus shot, given that I couldn't remember the last time I had one. Overall, though he told me I would be sore for the next few days from the impact of the crash, I had much to be thankful for and had sustained very little damage.

Sure enough, the x-rays confirmed that no bones were broken and before long, a very sweet nurse walked in bearing syringes and a sling. "Hi there, here we just met me and I have to start off giving you an injection. I'm sorry we have to start off this way." I agreed that it probably wasn't the best way for us to begin a relationship but, given the setting and the circumstance, I totally understood the position she was in. She proceeded to inoculate me against tetanus.

A bit later, she came in and started demonstrating the finer points of wearing a sling. She shared how her three year old had been required to wear one a couple of years ago and how she basically didn't comply with doctor's orders. I asked her if she honestly expected me to behave any differently and she laughed and said that she didn't figure I'd spend much time in it but pleaded and said, "Work with me. At least wear it out of the ER so it will look like I did my job.". I liked her immediately and promised her I'd look obedient at least until I got safely off hospital property.

In addition to the sling, she handed me two prescriptions for the expected aches and pain. The soreness was already setting in and I was more than ready to head home.

When we arrived, my Mom met me the door and she gave me a very long, warm hug and told me how happy she was to see that I was OK. I know she was relieved to see for herself what she had been told over the phone. I felt so blessed to be able to walk into her warm embrace - it doesn't matter how old you may be, there are some days when nothing feels as wonderful as being taken care of by your Mom. This was one of those days and I felt so happy to be around to cause her further exasperation - something I've done for over 47 years.

My dad returned with my medication and by now, I was really feeling some pain and no longer had to be cajoled into laying down. I settled into bed with a bowl of chicken soup and I was ready for it - having not eaten all day. As I ate this wonderful creation, I returned to reading "Maiden Voyage", by Tania Abei.

Katie called me and was relieved to hear that I truly was OK. She'd been very uneasy since hearing I'd been in a car wreck, and I was so touched by her concern. She wanted to hear the whole story and she agreed she would have had to skip on the whole stretcher/heart monitor part, and totally understood how acquiescing would have made her feel more vulnerable. We're cut from the same cloth, Katie and me.

My family took great care of me and I will never, ever forget how kind and understanding each of them were and what a blessed, crazy blond I truly am.

Yesterday, in the heat of the day, my parents found the place where my car had been towed and cleaned out my possessions. Everything was present, undamaged and accounted for - my camera, iPod, clothes, books and phone charger. I have to say I was pretty impressed with how safe the PT Cruiser was and the built-in safety features worked perfectly, considering how severe the impact was. I'm going to miss that little car, and goodness knows I've spent a great deal of time in it this summer, trekking between Wilmington, Oriental and Raleigh. It served me very well in the short time I've had it.

While my parents were cleaning out my car on Saturday Afternoon, Justin took me to the bank and graciously drove to Smithfield's so that I could order a large iced tea and chicken wings which I felt I'd kind of "earned". It may not be terribly healthy, but it's southern comfort food and I knew it would make me feel better.

So that's how my post-accident weekend went down.

What I noticed from having had this unexpected experience on Friday, in the moments after the crash, was how immediately my true priorities came into focus. The things that count and matter most, almost instantly come to the fore of one's thoughts when facing a situation that feels intensely threatening.

My first thoughts were of my family and all I wanted was to see each of them, to have these amazing people present with me and tell me it was all going to be OK. And there they were - right there, right when I needed them. The minutiae and small irritations of life evaporate when you come to the realization that life can change on a dime - in an instant - and the preciousness of the people closest to me flooded my thoughts. When life becomes shaken and stirred, "things" don't seem to factor into one's consciousness. Thoughts are definitely distilled and when hit out of the blue, it seems to all come down to, "who you know" - the people you hold closest to your heart - the special ones who "loved you into being", as Fred Rogers used to say.

The minor annoyances, the silliness of simple, everyday static, and silly self-centered irritations fall completely and wholly by the way side when life is reduced to its most basic and essential elements. Cars, houses, boats and money don't compete for attention when we find ourselves confronted by the fragility of our existence. The intrinsic magic of loving and being loved - that seems to be where it's at. Pretty powerful stuff!

What does all this mean? Good question! Wouldn't it be cool to have the epiphany of a potentially life-altering crisis without actually, you know, having to go through the whole experience? Wouldn't it be brilliant if you could just separate the lessons of such challenges from the nerve-fraying prospect of actually being required to live through the moment? I'm just sitting here imaging the ad campaign a company like Pfizer might launch if they could create a pill or serum - it would be heavy on the violins, and Yo-Yo Ma would probably play his cello - the scenery would resemble a travelogue and at the end of the commercial, there would be this beautiful, Gap-clad family, holding hands, exchanging spotless smiles with each other, secure in the knowledge of what matters most in life. We'd all have to pop a Dramamine just to get the taste out of our mouth and it would no doubt be the "designer drug of the century". Just think of it - a "get your priorities straight" pill. Divorce rates would tank, lawsuits would suffer a sharp decline and those of us taking it would walk down the streets exchanging "knowing" glances because we all "get it". Who knows, insurance companies might even cover it because something as powerful as that would probably be shown to boost one's immune system in a way that Vitamin C can't touch.

The reality is, that at least for the time being, you have to glean those insights the "hard way", and you can expect to get bruised, scratched and occasionally even knocked out in the process (if your luck doesn't hold as mine did and you suffer that minor concussion). And the really unfortunate thing about the whole "life-altering" experience is that its lessons have an unfortunately brief shelf-life. It's not unreasonable to imagine that one or more of my "inner circle", the loved ones who's face shone in my hour of reckoning, will probably get on my nerves in the very near future and they'll probably find that I'm just as annoying after the car wreck as I was before. It's really too bad we can't sustain the effects for longer than a few days. It seems as if by the time the soreness goes away, and we're feeling back to normal - our behavior is also back to normal and thus our trusty, reliable "built-in forgetter" works as well as it always did, except when it comes to cutting people a break and forgetting their past sins and mistakes. I'm great and letting go of my garbage, but I find I hold onto the sins of others far longer than I'd ever hold onto mine.

And I guess that's why every now and then, we stumble into circumstances that offer us instant reality checks and this past Friday, I suppose it was my turn. I'm going to try and hold onto what I discovered and felt, but I also know the fact that I'm a card-carrying, full-fledged human being will dictate that, with time, I'll lose the lessons until something else occurs in my life and brings me back to my knees. Don't you just know we must be extremely frustrating for God? Well, I'm sure He finds me exasperating.

And so...it goes.

I have to say it's been a busy summer so far - a tropical storm and a car wreck. No shortage of excitement this year! It reminded me of what Antoine St.-Exupery eloquently expressed so many years ago, "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. That which is essential, is invisible to the eye..."

A heartfelt thank you to my Mom, Dad, Katie and Justin for being my family and loving me.

Feline Circumnavigation, "Only in New York!" and Cycling Through Vietnam...

Do yourself a favor...

There are two blogs you need to check out. The first one is penned by my daughter and I can't help myself but I read her latest post this morning and laughed until I had tears running down my face and then, just as suddenly, I was mortified that my daughter has encounters like this on the streets of Manhattan! You can read about Katie's latest and greatest adventures here: Sweet Tea in NYC.

You need to understand, this is not a sacreligious blog post she has penned - she literally had this experience in NYC last Friday and Katie reports on things as she sees 'em. Meanwhile, I'm looking into locating a case of mace for her to arm herself with as she navigates the wilds of Manhattan.

The second blog worth visiting belongs to my good friends Amy Lyon and Jonathan Smylie - They are in the middle of one of the most adventurous vacations I've ever heard of! They are taking a three week bicycling adventure through Vietnam and Amy and Jonathan are keeping us "in the loop" by updating their blog with interesting text and fascinating photos. You can read about their experiences here: Lyon Family Cycles Vietnam, and I encourage you to check it out. I have to say that I would never have imagined Vietnam to be an idyllic vacation spot, and knowing first-hand the preparation that went into planning and preparing for this trip, by visiting them in the past few weeks, it seemed like a LOT of work and no small series of of "pre-travel innoculations", including rabies shots! But good for them in being brave enough to push the adventure envelope and taste exotic flavors of life!

Starry, starry night...

And on a celestial note, file this under the "NOT TO BE MISSED" category: This weekend will be the peak viewing window for the Perseid Meteor Shower! You can read more about it here: Perseids. It's one of the best light shows of the year and I always to make some sky time and with all those predicted shooting stars, think of the wishes just waiting to be made! If you can watch the show near a beach, so much the better! I, personally, plan to be at the beach counting stars and making wishes. Who knows, maybe one or two will come true...Click here for more great news and viewing tips for the Perseids - best celestial show of the summer! NASA.

It could happen.

[Note to Katie: Thanks for making me laugh so hard today - you will never know (but I know you really do know) how much I needed that laugh. What would I do without your acerbic wit and the amazing ability you have to turn so many unfunny situations that crop up in life, (even the really DARK ones!) into something even I find myself laughing at. (Wow, oh wow, oh wow is right! Alrighty then!). You rock, you crazy girl. XOXO ~ Mom]

Home is the sailor...

Home is the sailor, home from sea:

Her far-borne canvas furled

The ship pours shining on the quay

The plunder of the world. ~ A. E. Housman

Now don't be silly - I know I'm not a "real" sailor, but I did, in fact, just return from a ten-day sailing adventure that literally and figuratively rocked my world. I got a real taste of adventure - Abacos-style! But that doesn't really qualify me as a "sailor" although, as my Dad rightly points out, I am the daughter of a US Navy Sailor and darn proud of it!

Outer Banxious

We returned this evening from our trip to the Outer Banks. We had such a wonderful time. It was the most precious gift to revisit our favorite vacation islands and to share this in the company of my daughter, Katie, my son, Justin, his girlfriend, Stephanie and our good friend Billie, made it as close to perfect as is imaginable.

It's late and I have a ton of things to take care of, but of course I had to upload my photos before heading off to bed. Tomorrow will find me buying a few last minute necessities, enjoying lunch with Katie and Billie on Wrightsville Beach and repacking my bags because on Saturday, I head to Raleigh where I will overnight and catch a flight bright and early Sunday Morning which will whisk me away to Marsh Harbor in the Abacos.

As for the Outer Banks, we traveled all day on Saturday - Billie and I took turns with the driving, and we caught the ferry at Cedar Island which transported us to picturesque Ocracoke. We had dinner at Howard's Pub and then caught the ferry for Hatteras and arrived at "Sea Stilts" at around 11:00 PM. We were tired, but thrilled to be on the Outer Banks.

Sunday Morning, we enjoyed coffee on the top deck and Billie fried up a pound of bacon my mother had thoughtfully sent with us. I scrambled the eggs and we all sat down to a wonderful breakfast which was a good idea! We had a busy day ahead of us!

First stop was The Wright Brothers Monument and exhibit. We walked to the top, took tons of photos and enjoyed the sun.

Next stop: Jockey's Ridge for dune climbing, kite flying and panoramic views of the Pamlico Sound and the Atlantic Ocean. We spent over three hours atop the dunes and we made our kites soar - with a lot of help from the prevailing winds. We came down tired, thirsty and sun-kissed.

Justin manned the grill and served up a dinner of hamburgers and hot dogs. After that - Justin and Stephanie hit the hot tub, Katie became lost in one of her books and Billie and I took a long walk on an even longer beach. We walked for almost two hours in the dark with the waves lapping at our ankles and the stars twinkling above. It was a beautiful evening.

After our long walk, we sunk ourselves into the hot tub and Katie pried herself away from her reading and joined us for a warm soak and star-searching. I spotted three shooting stars to Billie's one. Of course, I made three wishes.

Monday Morning Justin and Stephanie fetched some bait and we rigged our three surf fishing poles and Katie brought along an ever-present book and of course, we brought some kites just in case the fishing proved unsuccessful which, with the brisk wind blowing just over the dunes separating the beach from the road, was a good idea. We had much more luck getting our kites in the air than enticing fish to take our bait. After about an hour, Justin, Stephanie and Katie headed back to the house because they were more interested in the hot tub and also because they're wimps! Billie and I stuck it out and spent about four hours flying kites and chasing gulls away from our bait. We caught nothing but had a fine time doing it.

Monday Evening, Justin grilled some marinated chicken and we feasted once again - enjoying a sumptuous dinner on the enclosed patio. After dinner, we all settled down and watched "What About Bob" - a movie we hadn't seen in years and enjoyed watching again.

Tuesday Morning dawned bright and sunny, but unfortunately, Justin and Stephanie had to leave as they were expected back at work on Wednesday. We hated to see them go, but we were grateful for the time they were able to spend with us. After they left, Katie, Billie and I headed for Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. Katie's nose became stuck in the pages of "Bee Season", but Billie and I decided to test our physical mettle and he purchased two tickets for us to climb to the top. Now, I have to tell you I do NOT like heights, but I also don't enjoy self-defeat, so I agreed to take on his challenge. It was a good decision. The view was stunning and my initial apprehension gave way to a sense of inspired awe at the scenery. It was breath-taking and the climb was no big deal. Thank you Billie for laying down the gauntlet and urging me to broaden my horizons. What a wonderful horizon it truly was. After that huge energy expenditure, Billie felt we merited a banana split and so the next stop found us rationalizing the 10,000 calories we consumed and we enjoyed every delectable bite of it.

Again, I can't express what a treat it was to share this time with my kids. These will always be remembered as halcyon days for me and I will forever be grateful for every moment and the accompanying memories - courtesy of the generosity of my good friend Billie.

This morning, Katie, Billie and I loaded up the car and reluctantly set out for home. It's not that we hated returning home, and we were eager to see Granny & Pops, Cassie and the gang, it's simply a testament to the magnetic pull the Outer Banks seems to attach to our souls. They're very difficult to leave, but hopefully, we'll be back up that way before too long.

So say some extra prayers for safe travels as I head for Raleigh and the Abacos on Saturday, as Billie flies back to Florida on Saturday and for Katie as she climbs aboard Amtrack Sunday Night.

We'll all be heading in different directions, but after spending a few unforgettable days together on the Outer Banks, there is a warm connection flowing between us all, including Justin and Stephanie who will be home next week, but feel free to pray for them as well and of course, special prayers for my Mom and Dad who keep the home fires burning and the pets fed and watered as we vagabond "kids" head in all manner of new directions.

Home is where...

...the people you love most happen to be. Yesterday, 18 May 2007, I had the wonderful pleasure of picking my daughter up, who just arrived from New York City. How sweet it was to see her smiling face again. She rode in on Amtrack (the railroad of lies) which was only 1 hour and 45 minutes late! We had a fun ride back, she riding shotgun in my PT Cruiser and we laughed and talked about everything and everyone we knew. James Taylor's "Sun on the Moon" was playing on my iPod and gave us a familiar soundtrack as my 23 year old daughter and I headed back toward Wilmington on a rainy but delicious Thursday Evening. It felt delightfully like old times.

We all sat down to an honest-to-goodness home-cooked dinner courtesy of my oh-so-domestic and wonderfully nurturing Mom. The conversation was interspersed with smiles, laughter and a feeling of togetherness - something we don't take for granted because this sprite now resides in the big city, but fortunately, she hasn't lost her affection for home, family and the love that emanates forth.

This morning, I picked up my fine friend Billie, who flew in from Tampa/St. Pete, and it was also great to see this special man again. We go back nine years and what a loyal and loving gentle man this blessing is. After warm hugs, I deposited him at my house and then took Katie to lunch with Vanessa - well, Vanessa could only join us for tea as she had a client, but Katie and I had a great lunch and then Vanessa took over and Katie spent a special day with her "second mother" and got a cool haircut. After Vanessa finished up at work, they went out running around, visiting Joe, Vanessa's long-suffering and patient saint of a partner, and then to Vanessa's to visit Katie's step-canine sibling, Rosie, who is a precious lab/rottweiller mix.

Tomorrow Morning, 19 May, Katie, Justin, Stephanie, Billie and me will head to Salvo, on the Outer Banks for a few days of fun on one of my most favorite strands of sand. I can't wait to get back up there with these wonderful people I love so much. Granny & Pops will be holding down the homefront and taking care of the animals and keeping our home lives on track as we trek up the Outer Banks.

I can't tell you how much I am looking forward to stealing away on this adventure with this group. Justin has volunteered to take over the cooking which is fortunate and he got no argument from any of us. Justin has turned into a very talented cook and we're pleased to let him shine. Billie and I plan on fishing, poking around lighthouses and we all have a kite with our name on it for some serious Jockey's Ridge kite flying.

Billie and I went out shopping tonight and bought all manner of snacks and necessities to keep us happy during our trip. We bought three loaves of bread for the ferry rides and the sea gulls that will trail in our wake. We have each selected some good books for night-time reading, something the Outer Banks is perfect for, and Katie will have her iBook. Of course, we're taking the quintessential OBX movie, "Tombstone" - something that Katie and Justin watched countless times during their first introduction to the Outer Banks, back in June 2001. They watched that movie so much that I think we could all recite the script. In addition we'll be watching, "Captain Ron", "The Perfect Storm" and a few other terrifying sea tales. You know, warm and fuzzy movies. :-) We're such a twisted bunch, but we have fun and we all adore each other so much. Billie might not be "blood-kin", but he fits in perfectly and it's a special treat to have him with us for the week.

I'll upload some photos when I return from the Outer Banks and give a quick recap of our trip on that magical chain of islands, before heading off to another chain of islands, with a much more southern exposure.

Until then, I hope everyone has a safe and happy week and I plan on doing the same. Feel free to say prayers for our trip for happy times and a safe return. Billie might need a few extra prayers - he has no idea what he's in for!

Don't forget to sign my guest book!

A tail-wagging tale. ..

I often think that people who post nothing but video's or copy and paste the quotes of others, are just too lazy to write, but this video is well-worth featuring. This dog was nearly given away due to "mischief". Just think what might have been missed if this man hadn't take the time to see what was behind the mischief? You really do need to watch this...it's about so much more than a dog that can do tricks. What a profound lesson disguised behind a cold nose and perky ears. It truly is about a partnership. Sometimes God's best blessings shed a little hair, but they always shed a lot of light if we take the time to look.

Wouldn't you just know it's a Texas dog?

A canvas splashed with friends...

"A friend may well be reckoned a masterpiece of nature." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Emerson was right, of course. He knew what we all know in the deepest parts of our heart to be true. It is, in the end, about friends, isn't it? Of course it is.

My morning started with text messages, voice mails and a stubbornly ringing phone and on the other end of these text messages, voice mails and that stubbornly ringing phone, were my friends. How much I love them. How blessed I am that they refuse to stop leaving voice mails and take the time to text message me and tell me that I am expected to be here or there and that they will come and hunt me down should I fail to show up where my presence is expected. Oh, they can be such a pain in the ass! How fortunate am I that they are just that way.

I have a great family and I've written about them many times and I love my family but with family, well, they're just sort of "stuck" with me and it's my great good fortune that they are but with friends, it's not quite like that. I seriously know in my heart that I have been blessed with some hugely cantankerous, obstinate, mischieviously delicious buddies. Truly, these friends make my life the most fun!

"A gift, two years in the making!"

Yesterday, I had the wonderful pleasure of a visit from my friend from several years back. I hadn't seen Jimi since September 2003. He's kept in touch with me through the years and refused to give up on me. When this brilliant NYU-trained attorney slipped into my life back then, we could never have foreseen the wild twists and turns that were ahead of us, both individually and collectively. But thank God he didn't forsake me when the chips were down and no matter how many times he encountered my voice-mail or e-mails that went unanswered for a time, he hung in there and the bond we forged almost four years ago, has stood the test of time. Though Jimi lives in another part of the state, I've felt his support and affection throughout these past few years and he's easily one of the brightest men I've ever met and he's never failed to give me good advice and counsel, both professionally and on a personal level.

Two years ago, I made a huge announcement. Some people bought gifts. There were frames, more frames, wind chimes, pieces of art and some gift cards. Jimi gave me something that, at the time, I thought was pretty funny and never in a million years did I imagine I'd have the opportunity to take him up on his offer but, as it turns out, he was much wiser and knew that I wasn't making the best decision. I thought he was crazy. As it turns out, I was the one that was behaving crazy. When the time came, I called, he answered and made good on his gift. Thanks Jimi. I promise that should I find myself about to make a similar decision at some point in the future, I will not do so without your prior approval. You have my word.

Jimi popped over yesterday for coffee before attending to a meeting that brought him to our fair city. Last night, after his business was over and my meeting was finished, I picked him up from his hotel for dinner and we had such a great time at Elijah's. It was a celebration of sorts. The waitress who took our photo, and a few of our fellow diners, laughed as we explained what we were celebrating. I mean, it did sound kind of funny, now that I think about it, but to us, it made perfect sense.

We laughed and smiled our way through oysters (his selection, not mine), and fish & chips (mutual). We had the best time and hopefully he'll be back next week for a more serious meeting and I will get to play tour guide again. After I dropped him back off at his hotel last night I thought to myself how lucky I was to have these angels in my life.

We couldn't help but muse about where life had taken us in the past four years. So many things had landed us places we never could have foreseen back in September 2003, and I think we both felt darn lucky to have survived ourselves. More than that, I sat there and felt gratitude that our friendship had survived. What's interesting, is that you never know how pivotal a few "chance" meetings in your life can be. You never know when those paths will criss-cross and and where a few hair-pin turns might take you and then one day, there you are and sometimes, it's fascinating to go back and connect those seemingly unrelated dots. We connected dots last night over seafood, dining in view of the twinkling lights of the Cape Fear River, in downtown Wilmington, less than a block from where we first met a few years ago. There we were, coming around again and smiling on top of it. Thank you for a lovely evening, Jimi, and a most fortuitous gift.

This morning, I awoke to a text-message and a sweet and funny E-mail. Sharon texted me to call her. NOW!!!! The first e-mail I opened up was from our other partner-in-crime, Mary Ann, who told me I was having lunch with them downtown and that I'd better be there. Again, courtesy of two angels who must sometimes feel as if they have more contact from my voice-mail than with me but who never, ever give up on me. Thank God for them both.

I walked into the Courthouse Cafe and the warm embrace of Mary Ann who, though outwardly a sporting dark hair, Sharon and I suspect she has blond roots. She just likes to give off the appearance of being a savvy brunette. We know better though, don't we Sharon?

It was just like old times! Only better!!!!!!

Clearly, we had the best seats in the house and how great it was to see Matt and his wonderful staff!

These two women have been so incredible to me for coming up on seven years. My gosh, I think I must practically be a native and I swear, they are my anchors. They have both walked beside me in good times and challenging ones and I'm just so very honored to love them and honored to be loved by them. They remind me how rich I am and I smile every single time I think of them, which is often. It's uncanny to me how friends seem to know when you need to hear from them. I have come to believe that the magic of such relationships, the intrinsic intermingling of personalities - is one of the finest intangible coping devices from a most benevolent Creator and one of the most vivid expressions of that Creator's love for each of us. When I look at Sharon and Mary Ann, I know God loves me because He sends his best angels to light my path. These two qualify as spotlights with exquisite candlepower.

After a wonderful lunch, I popped over to check in on my compadre Vanessa and ran right into another one of my best buddies - Kathleen. As it turns out, Kathleen and her husband Richard are celebrating their 22nd wedding anniversary! Cheers! Kathleen and I did the only thing that made any sense in the middle of the day - we headed for Port City Java and celebrated with highly caffeinated beverages! It would have been wrong not to!

After a nice visit with Kathleen, I ran into yet another special lady who has grown to mean a great deal to me and always gives me wise advice. I had the wonderful chance to chat with Susan who had sailed in from Bald Head Island for the afternoon and her timing was perfect! I love this beautiful lady. When we first met last fall, I was drawn to her immediately and today reconfirmed for me why. She has a radiant charm that is infectious. Time spent in her company is a pleasure. We made plans to get together soon.

And then there is my Vanessa. Never a dull moment with this woman! Rare is the day that goes by without contact between us and some days, I'm quite sure we just communicate telepathically. I find that both scary and comforting but mostly comforting. :-) How dull my life would be without Miss Vanessa to stir it up. Hey, what can I say? She's family.

And last but not least, Billie, my special friend of almost nine years, is flying in next month to take Katie and me on a special adventure.

We're both excited! All of this job-hunting can be just grueling and exhausting, so Billie has invited the Parker women on a retreat and we couldn't be more thrilled - we're headed to the Outer Banks for a few days and not a minute too soon!

Now, you have to understand, Billie has an ocean front place just outside of Tampa so you would think going to the beach wouldn't be that big of a deal for him which, of course, raises some questions. Billie can walk right outside his door and voila, he's at the beach!

But Billie has never been to the Outer Banks. He rented a cool beach house near Rodanthe and was kind enough to decide that Katie and I need to hang out with him. So of course, we had to say yes! I've been after him for years to visit the Outer Banks and he decided it was time.

Billie will be flying into Wilmington on 5/18, Katie will be taking Amtrak from Penn Station a couple of days before that and once everyone is assembled in Wilmington, we'll be heading for Rodanthe on 5/19 with kites, fishing poles and the DVD "Tombstone" which is a Parker tradition on the Outer Banks. Fun times!!!!!! Hopefully Justin and Stephanie will be joining us for a few days, too.

Personally, I think Billie is basically going to all this trouble just to have an invitation to one of my Mom's home-cooked dinners but, just to make it look good, he's taking us on a holiday. Geez, some bachelors will do anything for a decent home-cooked meal! He loves my Mom's cooking and she loves cooking for him so it all works out. Of course, once we get him out of Wilmington, Katie and I plan to clean his clock at Scrabble, Gin-Rummy and I'm sure we'll both out-fish the poor guy, but he'll smile and swear he's enjoying it.

Then I question, should I really be going on a vacation when I'm not actually working right now? Doesn't that seem a bit...silly? "No, no, no!", according to Billie and my daughter Katie. They feel that a few days out of town, focusing on mental pursuits such as scrabble and cards, and catching the occasional fish in the surf, will renew my mental resources and can only result in heightened creativity.

I was skeptical. I talked to another good friend who isn't involved in this vacation, and asked her what she thought and I even posed my question in way that would make her feel safe to criticize such a plan and, it should be noted, this is one of my more grounded, sensible, hard-working friends. Her response genuinely caught me off-guard: "I think it's a great idea! In fact, if you find a job before your planned vacation, just tell them you already have that week tied up and you will still need to take that week off. I definitely think you should go.". I reminded her that it felt almost indulgent to think of going to the beach while I am searching for a job. Sally didn't skip a beat and again, reiterated that it was a very good idea. I didn't see THAT coming! She's usually so practical.

So what can I tell you? I guess the consensus is that I need to get out of town post-haste! Everyone seems to have abandoned their common sense or, well, maybe they just want me out of Wilmington for a week? My advisers seem to overwhelmingly feel I need to get out of Dodge. How can I argue with all that?

So, the job hunt STILL continues, but I'm sure something will work out in the next few weeks. I've come to realize the worrying doesn't change a thing and honestly, I've been enjoying life so much lately I've been too busy to become panicked. It is spring and that seems reason enough to celebrate. For now, I am enjoying many of those "masterpieces of nature" that Emerson so eloquently described as friends. Days disguised as daisies...

A Mountain State Confession...

It's the funniest thing - while I feel no real need to conceal my recovery, I have always found that making another admission has the tendency to be a bit more problematic and often, I don't even offer the information up at all unless there's just no way out of it and someone connects the dots and my carefully constructed cover is blown. The admission I speak of goes something like this: "My name is Susie and [lower voice to a whisper] I'm from West Virginia".

I have to admit, I still have problems with that one. It's not something I plan on writing a book about - "My struggle with growing up in the Mountain State" or "John Denver was geographically challenged and other quirky facts of life in the wild, wonderful, chemically-noxious hills of the Kanawha Valley". I can't imagine I'd be invited to a book-signing in Charleston, WV for that one...

It's true, I've never been particularly proud of my where my roots were planted but, fortunately, they were short roots and not the type to lock one in, because my family was always moving. Before my marriage, we moved often, but in-state. After my marriage, we moved even more often, to many states.

I've even been known to skirt around the issue and, when queried about my accent...rather than proffer a bold-face, outright lie, I would mention that I moved here from Texas and, well, should the person asking questions draw the conclusion that I may be Lone Star in origin, I have never really found the need to correct it. I can't help it if they don't follow-up with, "But where are you really FROM???"

Tuesday Night, however, something changed. We were invited to dinner at the home of two natives that any state would be proud to call a native son and daughter. Don and Betty Johnson graciously entertained us with a real West Virginian home-cooked meal and, after stuffing ourselves on every food I count among my favorites, Don pulled out his handsome, Martin guitar and, in a scene straight out of "The Andy Griffith Show", he plucked and sang some songs that every self-respecting West Virginian knows by heart. The only thing missing was a porch-swing and a mason jar with collected lightning bugs.

What a wonderful evening and so much about that night tickled memories from my childhood. Even though it was a Tuesday, Betty served up what I grew up calling a "Sunday Dinner" - the kind my mother lovingly served after church when, more times than not, we had company which generally consisted of neighbors from towns we used to live in and a few relatives sprinkled in and sometimes those people would be one in the same because, as everyone knows, just about everyone in West Virginia is related one way or another though my parents still maintain they are in no way "blood kin" which heightens the mystery of how they turned out a kid like me. :-)

I remember so many times after dinner when my parents would say something like, "Susan, play (fill in the blank) on the piano" and, before I could think of ten excuses, someone else would 2nd that nomination and offer to sing, so any protestation I might launch was futile, at best.

When we retired to the living room after dinner this past Tuesday, I was leafing through a book that Don had just started reading, "The History of Medicine" and, lo and behold - even though there was a beautiful piano within spitting distance, I heard my mother make a musical request but, oddly enough, it wasn't directed at me. In fact, it was meant for Don and his guitar. I looked up and smiled - pleased to be off the hook and then, within seconds, wondering why she was suddenly uninterested in my services?

Like any respectful West Virginia boy, Don kindly obliged and played several songs that lead each of us on our private, individual sentimental journey down memory lane. He played beautifully and sang well, on top of it. I was astonished at how many flashbacks pleasantly passed through my mind. Good memories. Happy times. Each one the creation of an experience in a state I often deny a connection with.

Now, as a few people know, my family arrived in Wilmington courtesy of the May 2000 issue of "The National Geographic". No, seriously - that's why we moved here. We were living in Amarillo, Texas and one day in May, I was innocently leafing through the May 2000 issue of NGS and read a small story on the relocation of Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. I realized that for as fond as I was of Amarillo and West Texas, it occurred to me that I was just about as landlocked as a person could be and, even though the landscape in Amarillo is flat and a bit on the sandy side, and gosh knows the wind was pretty constant, it didn't carry even a hint of salt and I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard a wave crash, though in reality it couldn't have been more than 18 months because we'd only lived there (again) for 18 months.

Within a few days of receiving that issue of NGS, there was a "For Sale" sign in the front yard and within six weeks we had sold the house and had Wilmington in our sites. I did try and make it a democratic process and actually took a family vote and, though my Dad is a great sport, he wasn't pleased with the outcome; the vote was 4 - 1 in favor of a move East. My Dad still maintains that Amarillo is the best place he's ever lived, though I do believe Wilmington has grown on him quite a bit.

Betty and Don Johnson came to Wilmington by another way - medicine. Though both Betty and Don are West Virginia natives, they hail from different parts of the state. Don grew up in the southern part of West Virginia and his growing up years were spent near where my parents were raised. In fact, my Mom and Dad were acquainted with his father before they were actually acquainted with each other.

Betty was raised in the northern part of West Virginia. Don and Betty's paths crossed at WVU - when they were both deep in medical school. Betty is more formally known as Dr. Betty Johnson, who for years practiced as an anesthesiologist at New Hanover County Regional Medical Center and Don or, Dr. Donald G. Johnson, was one of the founders of Delaney Radiology and, a few short years ago, served as chairman of the radiology department at the same hospital.

Both have since retired (at a very young and tender age) from medicine and pursued other interests. In addition to being the proud parents of their son, Steven, who lives and works in LA in the film industry and daughter, Marsha, who lives and works in London, England, they still manage to keep quite active and busy.

A few short years ago, after a well-respected career in medicine, Don must have been bored or something because he headed back to the classroom and enrolled at UNC-W as a student where he picked up a BA degree in history and went on to earn an MA degree in European History. Just for the heck of it, he added a degree in Public Health and Tropical Medicine from Tulane University. He's now installed as a part-time professor at UNC-W where he teaches courses in history, when he's not running, biking, reading or typing up Betty's genealogy research notes, a passion my father highly approves of and shares with her.

These two are extreme over-achievers and yes, to reinterate, they are both from West Virginia and, like my parents, I'd bet they aren't related to each other, other than by marriage, of course. I know there's a lot of jokes made at West Virginia's expense and how we all tend to marry our cousins and the number of teeth we possess number in the single digits, but I have to tell you, if I were to find out I was in some way related to these two, I'd certainly not argue the point. I'd probably just smile and nod, kind of like I sometimes do when people "assume" I'm from Texas.

A special thank you to both to both Don and Betty for a wonderful evening and best wishes for their upcoming trip to the London and tour of Ireland next week, when they fly over to spend some time with their daughter.

Betty, Susie, Barbe & Maxine - 10 April 2007














Don, Susie, Barbe & Maxine - 10 April 2007

And to update - I'm still looking for a job and welcome any job offers and may well begin entertaining proposals because being a "kept woman" is starting to look less offensive. The insurance alone might be worth the bother. :-) If you're interested in offering me a job, e-mail me for a resume. If you're interested in making me a kept woman, I'll need to see your financials and last three years of tax returns and, of course, proof of health, dental and vision insurance which will cover your intended spouse (me) should everything else check out.

What do I bring to the table? Though I have no real domestic skills, I like to fish, love the beach, will brag on your culinary skills, have above average kite-flying skills and as long as I have an adequate (subjective) stipend for books and tea (with lemon), I'm generally quite easy to live with. A beach-front house will ensure that your application merits special consideration. Oh, and I do prefer men with cutting-edge computers and the wisdom to give me adequate space to write. See? I'm entirely low-maintenance!

On the road of life...

You remember that VW ad campaign from a few years back that declared, "On the road of life, there are passengers and there are drivers. We're looking for drivers. "

This past Saturday, on the road to Raleigh, there were passengers and drivers and, let me tell you, I would so much have rather been a passenger. My vitals haven't quite returned to normal but, well, I'm cautiously optimistic.

I knew I wouldn't enjoy making that drive. Last week when I would fast-forward and see myself motoring north in my sweet little PT Cruiser, I didn't accurately forecast the sheer TERROR. As the miles clicked faster toward my fear and destination of Raleigh/Durham traffic, so did my heart rate, respiration and I'm sure my blood pressure was off the scale.

The only saving grace was that I would get to see my daughter who had wrestled her own fear by flying south from Teterboro, NJ airport. True, she was flying in style and, rather than commercial, she was in an opulently appointed private jet, courtesy of John's generous and wonderful Aunt. Apparently this 12 seat jet came equipped with every amenity imaginable including a flight attendant. Ahem. Oh how I would have loved to have traded places with Katie! But to be fair, she would have been happy exchanging her airborne seat for the driver's space in my car. Hey, everyone's got their "issues", I just wish I could have sent mine on spring break for the weekend. But of course, it doesn't work like that with irrational fears and phobias. They have the obstinate and annoying ability of sticking around when they are least welcome. Not that they're ever really "welcome" in the first place, but my gosh, give me a break!

Other than the drive - which should have taken 2 hours and 20 minutes at the most and actually took something like 4 1/2 hours - it was a great visit. In addition to Katie and John, I got to catch up with Nina, John's mother, Daria, Melanie and Bill, John's aunts and uncle and their frequent traveling companions and good friends, Kathy and Mary Lou. And of course, there were John's two sisters, Kim and Katie and his brother, Mark. Last but certainly not least, to make the mix even more interesting, were some of Nina's neighbors and friends. What a colorful and eclectic crowd!

Embassy Suites of Cary was the scene of arrivals and departures and where we stayed when the ensemble wasn't shopping, sight-seeing, more shopping and, of course, eating and, did I mention eating?

Saturday Night we had the most amazing meal, hosted by Daria and Bill, and this was a big meal! There must have been 25 - 30 of us. The food, the service, and the wait staff were impeccable. Dinner began at around 7:30 PM and we finished up around 11:00 PM. What a great night!

And I must send out a special and heartfelt "thank you" to John's sister, Katie, for offering to exchange places with me so that I could have the chance to visit with Katie without actually yelling across the room. Not that I would have, but this young lady was so kind and considerate and after she made the offer, midway through the first course, I smiled and hesitated and then, with a wry and knowing grin, she said, "Come on, you know you want to do it. Let's trade.". What a sweetheart! What a very kind heart housed inside a lovely young lady. Thank you Katie G.!

We arrived back at the hotel at around 11:30 and met up again the next morning at 11:15 to head off for brunch at Nina's beautiful home. Of course, as expected, she thought of everything, and then some. She's not only gorgeous, but one of the most gracious and generous women I've ever met. No wonder John is such a great young man. In fact, each of her four children are just a gaggle of over-achievers and I mean that in the kindest and most flattering way possible. Not only are they well-accomplished, but they're so much fun to be around! Trust me when I say this is a very unique and impressive family and their affection for each other and those of us blessed to be included and counted as friends, feel bathed in that warmth and love as well.

After John and his sister (and new puppy owner) Kim, opened their birthday presents (John's was on the 2nd of April and Kim will "formally" celebrate her 25th birthday on the 18th), it was time to load the van and head for the airport (big gulp for Katie) and I-40 (big gulp for me). Nina followed the van carrying the 12 NY'ers with John's bicycle in tow. Since they were traveling on a private jet, they were able to take all manner of things not allowed on commercial airplanes. Good thing - in addition to John's bicycle, more bottles of wine than I could count and countless bags from shopping excursions, Kim received a very nice knife set as a birthday present which would never have made it through airport security.

I followed Nina who lead me to the ramp that would deposit my cruiser on (big gulp) I-40 where I proceeded South to Wilmington and long before I was halfway home, Katie called my cell to let me know they had already landed at the airport and that it was snowing in NYC. I already miss her like crazy, but I'm so happy not to be dealing with snow. Suddenly our mid-50 temperatures felt just a little more temperate. I did find driving AWAY from Raleigh to be more calming than heading INTO Raleigh, but I do wish Katie had been with me.

I arrived home in one piece and I'm happy to say I didn't crash into anyone on my drive, but I was so relieved to be out of that car and out of that traffic that I swear I briefly considered kissing my driveway but, given that it was daylight, it just didn't seem like the thing to do. I'm sure my steering wheel was pretty happy to be released from my white-knuckled grip.

Was it worth all of the angst and fear and hyperventilation to motor north to see Katie and the clan? Of course it was. Though we were together just short of 24 hours (and 8 of those asleep), any time spent with my daughter is time well spent. She and John looked great and being with them made it all worth the ride. I simply adore her and, while I miss her, I think NY agrees with her and she's obviously very happy and that's what matters most to me. Even if happy happens to be 485 miles north.

And, while driving wasn't exactly relaxing (understatement), it did get my mind off the fact that I'm still looking for a job. I'm certain the change in scenery was good for me, particularly if that scenery included my daughter.

Now, I can relax and settle back into praying and searching for the perfect position. One can't lose faith or heart and I'm nowhere close to throwing up my hands. Hey, sooner or later something's gotta give, right?

Until instructed otherwise, prayers are still encouraged, welcome and most sincerely appreciated.