Fate. Providence. Kismet. Kismat.

Intuition?

Sixth Sense?

Fate?

My father's spirit?

I don't know what to call it or what it was.

All I know is what I felt and what happened.

Tuesday was the anniversary of my father's death.

Monday night I went to sleep on the living room couch in my parent's home in Chicago. I had driven up there to supervise some electrical work which might seal the deal on the sale of their home.

I tossed and turned....I woke up a hundred times....knowing I had to do something....eventually sensing I had to go to my grandparent's cemetery to check something. But why?

After my parent's died, I wanted to visit the cemetery to take pictures of the gravestones and gather information because I plan to research my family history in the future. I knew I wouldn't be making frequent trips to Chicago after I sold my parent's house ,but I felt no urgency towards the visit....it was just something to be done ....until Monday night.

I awoke Tuesday morning....puffy eyed and tired but the sense....almost the physical sense of being pushed to go there....increased.

I planned to return a dress I bought online to a store and do a little shopping before the electrician arrived. I drove quite a distance to the store.....returned the item....but couldn't stay an extra minute....in that store. The sense, the urgency to go to the cemetery kept tugging at me.

I tried to be logical....I'm sure I feel this tug....because...it's the anniversary of my father's death.....and although he is not buried yet.....perhaps in my psyche I just needed to connect to my family....to my grandparents and some of the relatives. Surely this is why I'm feeling this push.

So I drove to the cemetery. It's been years since I've been there.. I went to the office to get lot information.

I pulled up the information for my grandparents, the burial site of the "babies", my grandmother's stillborn children, and then I pulled up Mike's burial information. The family rumor was that Mike was not only my grandparent's best friend but also my dad's true father.

I wanted to go Mike's grave site first....but I felt it was disrespectful....why visit "Uncle Mike's" grave first....who was not related to us...over my grandparents?

So I wandered through the cemetery and found them....my grandparents....the still born babies.

The sky was crystal blue and it was cold and windy but sunny. So windy I literally did feel pushed around.

While I walked around...trying to find their plots....I marveled at all the lavish, decorative monuments. I liked that in this cemetery (versus the cemetery my maternal ancestors are buried at) people could plant small bushes and plants next to the monuments. It made things green and messy...hostas...tulips... bushes...... all brushed...and covered...and swamped the stones...but it also made it feel personal.

The non-uniform plantings, the overgrown bushes, and the freedom given to families to choose ornate or simple or tall or stout monuments...made the cemetery feel comfortable...non-rigid...approachable. I found myself smiling....I liked the natural feel...I thought my father would like it here too.

But my plans were to bury both my mother and father in my mom's lot in the other cemetery....the one with the manicured lawns...and a thousand restrictions on what you could or could not place near the mandated flat marker stones. Besides...my parents had been married over 60 years...I couldn't separate them.

But I disliked how they treated my request to have my father buried with my mother.....even though it only means the cremation box to hold their ashes would be slightly larger.....they made me feel like my father was an alien. I had to get permission from my living relatives to "allow" my father's remains to be placed with my mother....as if somehow being her husband for 60 years wasn't enough. Technically, if a relative objected...they both could not be buried in the plot. The headstone would also have my father's name listed underneath instead of next to my mother's. The cemetery personel made me feel as if my father was some parasite that was being attached to my mom...instead of her devoted husband.

Because the cemetery personnel made me so uncomfortable.........because they were so annoyed at my questions....I couldn't face burying my parent's ashes yet. Something stopped me....I couldn't proceed with the arrangements....I didn't know why....but it felt wrong/disagreeable.

But I also felt guilty.....surely a year after their deaths I should make arrangements.....what was wrong with me?

I finally decided it was time to visit Uncle Mike's grave. I sensed he was what I was here for ....but part of me fought how illogical this thought was. Why would I feel pushed to visit Uncle Mike over my grandparents?

I saw his reddish colored granite monument in the distance. Walked to it and froze.

Mike and his brother were buried there....and there was a third empty space.

I started crying. I knew ....I knew ...somehow this was for my father....but how could it be?

No one ever mentioned this....my father....my mother...my mother's best friend who knew all our family business....no papers....no records ...no information...no directions/instructions from anyone.

I went back to the office ....I tried to control my sobs. How would I ask the secretary about the empty grave site ? Both Mike and his brother were bachelors.....they had no descendants in the Chicago area. Who was it for?

A lie.

"My father died and he told me there was a plot for him next to Mike X."

"Names again please?"

"Yes, Mike indicated the plot is for his nephew, Peter."

I cried. My body shook. The secretary stuffed my hand with kleenex. I turned away from her.

I knew this was why I was here.

My father is not Mike's nephew.... my father is probably Mike's son.

You don't buy a plot for your nephew....especially if your nephew is married and most likely would make other arrangements to be next to his wife. My father could be buried in many places....Mike hoped he would be buried next to him.

I left the building and stood in the grass close to where I parked the car. I let the wind blow me around for a while. The icy blue sky and sun gave such a sense of clarity to the day....it made you feel there were no ifs and buts in the universe.... only yes and no.

I had found yes.

My body relaxed....peace wrapped around me.

Whatever it was that pushed me in my dreams ...that pushed me all day to come here....was now satisfied.

I had discovered what needed to be found.

I will bury my father's ashes next to Mike. Dad will not be an alien or parasite....he will take his place among the menfolks of Mike's family. My father will have his dignity. My father will have his place. Whether or not they are truly father and son...I may never know...and maybe they didn't know for sure either....but somehow they felt it might be

I will also blend my father's ashes with my mother and bury them together at the other cemetery.

My mother hated being alone....I will make sure they are together. My father and mother would have wanted that too.

My father moved from his childhood neighborhood to live with my mother's relatives when they married....so too now....the circle will be complete.....and he will be with them again.

But he will have his own spot too....and I will transplant some of the hostas he gave me... which are lush and thick in my yard to his monument....and I will plant daffodils...his favorite spring flower. He loved to garden...he loved his hostas.

Everything is in it's place now.

Give me a break.

1am....and freaking out.....it ain't pretty.

I feel like a voodoo doll...with 100 pins (aka known as life's problems) sticking me.

Pins for failing real estate deals, my son losing his health insurance, over budget on a project, and blah blah blah blah blah.

I was so desperate I surfed the web for articles on how to change your luck....oh people have systems and for a copy of their newsletter for 24.95....they tell you what it is.

I just need to pull a few pins out and I can handle all the rest...but I'm sporting a full load and soon I'm gonna spring a leak......

there she blows....lol....

Well how about that.....

I was sitting on the bed.....strapping my sandals when I heard this boom.

"What the hell?"

I looked out the window.

Ozzie the Wonder Dog galloped into the bedroom obviously concerned.

Maybe something happened at a construction site down the road.

My son scanned the Internet and rushed in with an explanation.

The space shuttle had passed directly over us on the way to its landing site in Florida.

Very very cool.

One of those weeks....

It's really hard to write anything this week.

Crummy week.

Looks like the bid on my parent's house is falling through....second bid...second falling.

Will probably have to drive up to Chicago next weekend and take care of some minor repairs on the house....get someone to cut the grass.... someone to fix a window.

Just hate the thought of driving up north...and being in my parent's house again. Sleeping on the couch and having all those memories crowd me in the empty living room.

This week is the first anniversary of their deaths.

I had flashbacks of my mom's last hours....all weekend. The way her mouth was open and the particular way her jaw jutted forward as her breathing became labored.

My dad....I miss him.

I wish I could talk to him...tell him a few things.

How his DNA results came back just a day after his death and showed he has a strong Mongolian/Siberian background. Oh ....he would have found that fascinating.

How I solved the mystery of the basement leak. Here's my dad...wondering for years why there was a water problem there....and I found a spot under the outdoor rug.....where an unscrupulous worker ...didn't re-cement a work area after the cable was fixed.

And then there's my house still looking like a warehouse and me....not having the energy or desire to even peer inside those boxes.

"Change your thoughts and you change your world."

Yeah ...I'll try that tomorrow.

planted and potted

It was so simple and yet such a joyous thing to do.

.

I planted a tree in a pot and placed it near my front door.

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I planted it as the day was ending, the light fading into pink, the damp from the lawn beginning to rise.....the yellow of the porch light taking over.

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I didn't plant anything last year....when my parents were ill and dying.

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So it felt magical....and sensual....the mulchy smell, the softness of potting soil, the pricks from the holly leaves.

.

Life finally returns to our house.

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Pico Iyer blurred

It's not the best picture I have from the literary festival....but it's the one I like the most.

I like the blurriness.....the edges shifty and not tidy. Sometimes when you read some one's book or listen to them speak for an hour...you think you know them or understand them....when in reality, you probably understand just a tiny fragment of the person standing in front of you with the rest in a blur. Hence Pico and I ....are truthfully and wonderfully blurred to each other.

I have loved many of Pico Iyer's essays. He's a travel writer and commentator and the author of several books. His language is beautiful, slow, thoughtful. His thoughts on "Why we travel" are so often quoted it's hard to believe they originated from a real person who uniquely formed the idea for the first time.

Here's a passage from his oft quoted essay:

We travel, initially, to lose ourselves; and we travel, next, to find ourselves. We travel to open our hearts and eyes and learn more about the world than our newspapers will accommodate. We travel to bring what little we can, in our ignorance and knowledge, to those parts of the globe whose riches are differently dispersed. And we travel, in essence, to become young fools again -- to slow time down and get taken in, and fall in love once more.


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I bought a gallon of milk today

I bought a gallon of milk today and I was thrilled.

I parked the car, walked into the store, walked to the dairy case plopped my gallon of milk into my shopping cart and headed for the check out lane.

Halfway through the store I felt a rush of euphoria. I had walked from the car....into the store....and was on my way out....walking.

After an entire month of couching after my foot surgery...sitting on the couch with my feet up ....I was walking again.

My steel pins were removed on Friday. A horrible adventure.

I knew the procedure was not going to be pleasant when the Doctor instructed me to close my eyes. I had a sock in my hand from my affected foot and placed it over my eyes like a blindfold.

"Don't worry you won't feel this."

The first pin slid out like butter.

The second pin.....was stuck.

I opened my eyes.....I almost fainted. The doctor was holding a huge stainless steel plyer in his hand and look flustered. He took a deep breath and attacked my second toe. It felt like he was trying to pull a 100 lb marlin out of it. Just went I started to feel woozy....a massive burning sensation engulfed my foot. "No problem....it's out."

No problem? My foot looked like it had been stung by a thousand bees.

So I couched all weekend.....and finally took my first step on Monday. Not bad...not bad....and today....Wednesday....I put on an old wide sandal.....and took my first stroll.

I was shocked how jello-like and wobbly my legs felt. I looked and swayed like the proverbial drunk sailor....except I was very sober.

My steps were tentative when I entered the store and I had to remind myself how to walk normally....because if you hobble around for a month....your body wants to continue to hobble even though there is no reason to continue walking that way.

So when I reached mid-store and I hit an almost normal gait....I was happy.....so very happy to feel and experience movement.

You probably took 5,000 steps today (the average steps a person takes in a day) but it seems you only appreciate that magnificent feat when you barely hit 50 a day.

How amazing to walk into a grocery store and buy a gallon of milk and then walk out.
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An Easter Lamb with a new outfit.

In our home, Easter has always meant a delicious lunch topped off by the Easter Lamb.

A golden pound cake baked in a lamb mold with a coat of coconut with jelly bean or M&M eyes.

The tradition is so ingrained....when one of the children can't make it home for Easter.....a pictures of the Easter lamb is dutifully forwarded to a far away computer just before the lamb is sliced.

This year....presented a challenge....not only is our daughter not here....but we're now a multi -faith family.

So what happened to the Easter lamb? He wore a yamaka to the table!

You can call me Miss Kugel or you can call me Ms. Blintz

I sent an email saying....if you need help let me know.

A return email arrived....yes we do.

Our community is having a food festival in May.....and I'm in charge of the kugel/blintz booth.

If you're not familiar with blintzes and kugel....let me describe these delicious little treats.

Blintzes are cousins to crepes. There's a thin crepe-like envelope which holds a stuffing of sweetened cottage cheese mixture. The little pouch is then fried and topped with sour cream or a fruit topping like strawberries or blueberries.

Blintzes acquiring a crisp buttery crunch

Kugel can be a noodle or potato dish. My Lithuanian grandmother made the potato version which consisted of shredded potatoes mixed with eggs and baked until the top was crispy. It was a stick-to-your-ribs type of side dish which accompanied sausage or brisket.

At my booth...we'll be featuring a noodle kugel, a classic Jewish dish.

Egg noodles and cheese are baked together till a beautiful crust forms. Sometimes kugels are served as dessert with the cheese mixture sweetened with sugar and raisins. The unsweetened version of kugel is often used as a creamy side dish.

For my booth.....busy folks have already cooked.... 100...dozen...blintzes and about 30 trays of kugel. My reputation of a non-cook is well-known so I only have to help bake about 30 more trays. I will probably googooo eye hub and look sweet....so I'll end up assisting versus preparing and actually baking the kugel.

After we knock off 30 more trays of kugel....I'll have to find some volunteer fryer-uppers and servers. I was told my booth is one of the busiest at the festival....so I have to make sure....there's plenty of folks plus visualize an efficient flow of distribution.....I don't want a single noodle or blintz left at the end....since all the money we raise goes to charity.

I'm thinking of getting my yet-to-be-gathered team some fun t-shirts....with some snappy slogans.....like "a blintz is cheese bling" or "kugel your way into some one's heart"....okay ...maybe I need a little work on my slogans yet. If you have any ideas for snappy....blintz or kugel sayings......please let me know.

As for myself....I was thinking of getting a t-shirt made with the simple incantations of my grandmothers....."Eat...Eat...Eat"
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Why is this night different?

I"m a little nervous right now.....in a couple of hours I'll be attending a Passover Seder at George and Ellie's house.

I don't know them very well....they are short and sweet and retired and nod at me when I see them at temple. They have been kind enough to invite me to join a group of family and friends to celebrate the first night's Seder because Passover is a community and family event.

For the last two weeks, there's been a palpable buzz among the congregation....as everyone finds a seat....a table...a family for Passover. Some houses have mega celebrations with 30 or 40 people...others fill a dining room. I've been told George and Ellie hold a "traditional" Seder which means I will probably have to do a considerable amount of lip-syncing and pretending....as my Hebrew is at the kindergarten level and I only know one song very well.

I will never forget the first Seder I attended a couple of years ago. It was a second night Seder at the temple....where congregants plus anyone in the community is invited to experience this ritual.

As my seat mate carefully explained the Seder tradition......I realized that the first night Seder....the most important one during the week long celebration of Passover....is traditionally held in people's home. I was awed by the concept that a religious community would "allow" its members to celebrate..."unsupervised"..... one of the most important holidays in the Jewish faith. Having grown up Catholic....it would be the equivalent of performing the Christmas or Easter mass at your house.

No Catholic would ever think of doing that because: a mass can only be said by a priest, a specially ordained person, a lay person is not worthy or holy enough to do this.....it must be conducted in a church or pre-approved spot, and the liturgy is uniform/consistent/approved.

And here are Jews.....celebrating and honoring their faith and experiences in their ordinary homes as ordinary people... reform or liberal congregations can even add or revise elements of the ritual and select different texts ...hagggadahs....to use.

It was an astonishing thought to me that each man or woman was "good enough" to participate in the ceremony....that a family could "handle" the rituals without an ordained spokesman .....that a group of people....could, in effect, be responsible to praise God directly from their own dining rooms.

I remember I was so excited about this idea of ordinary people celebrating and handling their religious rituals....about the sense of community and level of responsibility each person had for their own lives.....I decided right then and there....to act on the tug I always felt toward this faith and begin studying.

In essence....it was the start of my own exodus from one place in my life....to another.

And that is why on a personal level.....I know why this night is different .....for me.

Sometimes you just don't know what to say......

Phoooey

Phooey......went to the doctor this morning and they said the pins in my toes would have to stay in for another 12-14 days.

Felt deflated......walking around in a boot is hard and tiring and not much fun. You would think I would be loving all the couch time.....reading.....watching DVDs....but it's just the opposite....for some reason I'm not interested in reading or shows.....all I want to do is what I can't do....walk around.

Today....this evening....I'll fill my evening with slips of paper as I try and organize our taxes......that should keep me out of the trouble for the next couple of days.....but even if I use up three days for taxes....there's 9 days left.

I suppose when it gets warmer in a day or two....I can have one of the men folks put a chair out and get a little sun......but as you can see my enthusiasm even for sunshine is very small.

The sale of my parent's house is stalled....plus about three other things in my life.....so it's just not the foot....it seems my life is stalled....and I'm not Ms. Patient.

Sigh....12-14 days.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long JOHNS and LONG johns

Couching while your foot is recovering from surgery is not fun.

TV is boring....and for some reason I can't concentrate on reading.

So I decided to send some emails....reminders to the kids, late correspondence, finish business.

In Chicago I discovered two sets of brand new women's silk long johns. I brought them home because they were so delicate and silky. I decided to see if my daughter might want them since she lives in Columbus, Ohio where winter chill can sting.

To be cute.....I decided I would add a picture of long johns to the email.


So I googled " long johns."

Wow! Does the word long johns translate into penile anatomy in Swedish?

This was the first image that came up.

Hmmmm looks like the Prostata is bit out of whack.

Maybe I had my google filter off....because there were more pictures like this


than pictures which looked like this.

Side effects of couching.....too much TV

Well it's post-op Day 4 and I'm disappointed I'm still reclining on the couch.

I'm down from 3 ouch days to 3/4 of an ouch days....but I still can't walk without feeling a dainty hot poker in my foot. Sigh.

I gathered lots of things around me to keep me busy.....bills, newspapers, books.....good friend Jason even loaned me Tru Blood Season 1.......unfortunately....I discovered that pain plus pain medication......means you can't concentrate........which means.....you make friends with your TV.

I don't watch much TV when I'm uncouched..........I meet people who want to chat about the American Idol contestants....or this series or that series.....and I am totally lost....with the exception of a bit of news....perhaps the Daily Show....Colbert......I simply have too much too do. And when a series does sound interesting.....like the Sopranos or Madmen..... I just wait till it's on DVD and rent it.

So it's weird to sit in front of the TV and watch it hour after hour in real time with commercials.

During the day, Hoda and Kathy Lee have been eye-openers because they're the auditory equivalent of chalk squeaking on a blackboard. Kathy Lee makes a perfect talking bobble head and I want to tell Hoda to get some backbone and bitch slap Kathy Lee for some of her remarks. Rachel Ray is way too peppy and I'm sure she is on drugs....you can't be that estatic over mediocre pasta dishes.

I made an effort in the evening to watch shows I've only heard about....like the Housewives of NYC. I sat mesmerized for the entire show. I couldn't believe this was actually a TV show....watching bitchy women be bitches. I think it must have a following because women are reliving their high school days. If you ever wondered what happened to the pretty popular bitches that formed a clique in every high school......here they are. They married rich.....they have pretty houses.... jerk professional husbands.....and they gossip and have hissy fits over inconsequential girlfriend issues. Who is going to what party? Who said what to whom? Who said one thing and did another. I was just as astonished watching these women on TV as I was watching the clique operate in high school....Will these chicks ever grow up? Apparently...they don't......they just move to different venues.....like the Hamptons.

I have watched enough animal shows and animal rescue shows to feel like a vet student. Thank God these animal rescue shows don't operate like QVC.....the home shopping network....because I'm sure I would have adopted half of them: the Boxer with advanced mange..... the cat with it's tail chopped off.....the one-eyed cat with special needs.

And finally there's all these wedding shows.....Bridezilla....The Four Weddings and some other bridal show I've forgotten the name of. I felt obliged to watch them because my daughter is getting married and I want too see what's going on in the world of weddings. What's going is people are spending an incredible amount of money. Obviously I'm too practical ...I keep watching and thinking.....is this what a young woman should do with $100,000? or even $50,000? I mean the day after......you don't have a down payment on a house or car or splendid vacation or anything more tangible than the photos which arrive from your photographer. Memories are good....parties are good......but so is a down payment on a love nest.

And finally there's Cops. When the menfolk visit me on the couch.....they groan at animal shows or wedding shows.....so I've watched a fair amount of Cop and Chase shows. I admit they're fascinating. Watching a car speeding down a street courtesy of a helicopter crew....is mind-numbing voyerism and watching some of the people the Cops catch and deal with is hypnotic. The other night the cops arrested a hooker in Las Vegas who wanted $150 for some action. Fat, at least 60, unkempt....missing some teeth....in a baggy t-shirt and cut offs......I was like...whoa....some dude would sleep with her for $150 bucks???? LOL>>> it somehow makes me feel more valuable....geez I could get at least....????

Well the men folks have gone on errands....and my tummy is rumbling for lunch.....so I'm going to put my special boot on and hobble to the kitchen. Hopefully the bagels are still on the counter and the coffee from this morning is still on warm.

Hopefully.

Surprise surprise....the bitchy clique in high school you remember ....grew up.....remains bitchy and just got their own TV show.

Ouch ouch ouch

Damn.....two days out and I still can't walk. Graduated to ice packs
and now Codiene. There's a time to be tough and there's a time to
close your eyes and go down the rabbit hole.

Double ouch

Ouch ouch I had to have surgery on my sweet little toes.

Ouch ouch the remote is on the other side of the room and I'm forced
to watch Hoda and Kathy Lee.

Two very painful situations.

Somethings aren't supposed to be donated to Goodwill

I was headed out door when I saw it.

OMG!!!!!!

Do I run up to the table and grab it? Or do I run out the door?

It was fight (I mean grab) or flight....and I choose flight.

I zipped out the door, jumped into the car and sped away.

A stoplight later I remembered.....I asked for a donation receipt...Goodwill has my name, address and zip code.

Every time the phone rings this afternoon....I cringe waiting for the menfolks to call out, "It's for you....it's Goodwill."

My parents.....had that odd sort of jokey 1950's off-colored sense of humor.

They had a bottle opener shaped like a naked lady.....some bar glasses with classic "naughty" jokes written on them......and even a fake olive or two shaped like a breast.

I guess you could label it "bar humor"......probably because it takes a drink or two for the item to become funny.

Behind their bar......lived the infamous......Penis apron.

A stable joke in their house for eons.....it was a apron....which looked like a pair of men's shorts.....and when you tied it around your waist....a 12 inch long hot pink stuffed cotton penis popped out.

The apron was designed so the penis didn't fully appear till it was tied around you. I don't remember my mother or father wearing it....but I do remember they tried to coerce friends to wear the apron....often by suggesting they could use some help cleaning up the dishes and.... wouldn't you want to wear an apron so you won't get your clothes dirty?

I don't think the apron actually got tied around anyone....because my parents or their friends dissolved into hysterical laughter before the strings could be tied.

Besides the pink dong....there was a side attraction. A small fake pocket....lift it up and some fake fur was arranged like this: ( ) I'm sure you get the idea.

The pocket rarely got lifted because most folks were too tired from laughing to endure another gag centered around the apron.

I found the apron in a box of my parent's clothes. I balled it up....and put it off to the side....unsure of what to do with it....garbage? keepsake? maybe it could be a priceless eBay item.

Yesterday....I scooped up their clothes to bag and take to Goodwill and yep....inadvertently included the penis apron.

I glanced at the work table while a man was writing my receipt...a saggy tired gray haired man...... dumped my bag onto the table for sorting. A woman, working behind the counter, said, "I'll be right there Bob, to help ya."

That's the exact moment I noticed the green apron....bundled up with its 12 inch long penis waiting inside as a surprise.

I am sure Bob and the lady would be surprised.

Are they going to laugh? Are they going to drop down on their knees and pray for the perverted woman who donated the penis apron? Or is some vice-president of operations going to call me and politely request I refrain from leaving pornographic items?

My hub thinks they laughed.....

I am hoping they left both Jesus and their manager out of it...and simply tossed it in the garbage.

I suppose there is a remote chance that Bob or the woman thought it was so funny....he or she bundled the apron up and took it home....where it could become a tradition in some other family.

Right....that last option is pretty remote.

Still I feel a little bad the life-of-the-party ended up in the trash.....surely somewhere .......somebody........ could have loved it?

An inferior replica of my apron...which looked like a pair of men's shorts and carried a 12 inch long hot pink penis instead of a pathetic stubby.

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

A bedtime song....or a midday pause

Thanks....Krista and Damn, Gina

Book Fog

Home again.....and watching the full moon move across the sky for a while tonight.

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Funny drive.......started listening to an audio book called..."The Help."

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I was quickly snatched into the story.....instead of the usual single narrator....there are 5 narratives which portray different characters so it's like listening to a book and a play...the first two chapters center on two different maids that work for white families in Mississippi.....then the third chapter introduces a young white girl....of course..... an aspiring writer.

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I smile and recognize many things the young wanna be writer is thinking and dreaming about ....the way she wants to write....the stories she wants to tell.

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She has returned home after college....but instead of writing she's always trying to escape her mother.....who criticizes her.... and always wants the young woman to act or talk or dress to correspond to the proper image the mother has in her head.

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I nod and uh-huh as the character moves about her story....because elements of the story mirror my life. Suddenly I stare at the radio...as if a snake just flew out of the speaker.......what? ......I hear it again........the character and I share the same first name......an unusual name and not one often heard in stories.

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If there's anything that can give you the willies....it's hearing your own name in a story with all too familiar details.

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Every time the mother sharply calls out her daughter's formal name...the one we share....I jump in my car seat then grasp the steering wheel a wee bit harder.

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I was so engrossed in the story......I was only dimly aware of this persistent beep beep beeping that began breaking into the book fog I was in.

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"Shitttttttt"

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I look down.....my gas gauge is not only showing the "get gas icon" but it's dinging....a signal that I only have minutes before the car stops. A bit paniced....I stop the CD story and concentrate on scanning the horizon. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see BP Gas sign off the interstate .

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Damn.....that was way too close.

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I finished 10 out of 14 CDs....and sat in the driveway for 5 minutes waiting for a chapter to end before I could turn off the engine.

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I feel the pull right now to go out into the car and get the discs.....and finish the story.....but....I know I won't be able to stop at one disc...and there's probably 4 more hours of story to go.

Better to work on my day....and clear my calender tomorrow evening.....and give the story it's proper time and respect.

.

Funny....that full moon is so slippery.....it's already out of sight...I believe that's a sign I should slip into bed too.

Daughter time

Up in Ohio spending time with my daughter.

It's been wonderful to do girlie things....shopping....studying lamps.....buying a dress or two.

We've also started planning for her wedding which will be set for next summer sometime.

She originally wanted to get married in Puerto Rico but we spent the weekend online looking at estates in the Hamptons in New York. Estates usually have 10-15 bedrooms in big houses on big lots. Instead of renting two smaller houses....we are looking at a happy group of 25 friends and relatives in one big house....at least I hope it would be happy.

One of the houses we looked at.....and was our first choice is being sold.....and we are warming up to an older home close to the beach. Still for such an important occasion.....it gives us an excuse to visit the beach and Long Island for a short stint this spring in order to check the facilities out.

Tomorrow she wants to show me some rings she is looking at.....and then we'll spend some time looking at properties again.

This evening....she introduced me to the HBO series....Tru Blood.....I was hesistant to watch it....because vampires scare me....but after the third episode in a row....I decided to leave and return to my hotel room because I would have remained glued to the couch till the wee hours of the morning watching episode after episode.

I love her cat Drama.....he's 16 pounds of sass....kind of a feline bulldog. I distinctly heard him say....."three episodes is enough Gina" tonight.