Sitting in the living room
visiting with friends
after a long drive
a busy afternoon
and heat of 112 degrees.
Of all the things I forgot
the one I wanted to make sure to have
so I could share the beautiful sights
the camera you say? noooo....
but the battery and charger for it...
uggggg
there is a cost unaccounted for
but a spare for the next time
pictures tomorrow.....
I hope
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Time for Adventure
An adventure of my dreams.
The road awaits. Which road? Route 66
The original dream of driving Route 66 was to start in Chicago and drive all the way to Santa Monica Pier. So, the next best thing will be to start in Amarillo on the infamous 6th street, historic Rte 66, and former home of a business I owned and ran for 3 years in my younger days.
The reason for the adventure at this time?
A Bigger Adventure
which requires me to leave my vehicle with my oldest son, for I will have no need for it and no place to park it for at least two years.
So, to Seattle I trek, via Route 66 and the Pacific Coast Highway with stops in between.
Tomorrow I travel to Lubbock to see friends and drop off some items for safe keeping.
Hopefully I will leave very early and arrive around lunch time.
With two weeks to get there and another week before I fly back, much fun and excitement will ensue.
The road awaits. Which road? Route 66
The original dream of driving Route 66 was to start in Chicago and drive all the way to Santa Monica Pier. So, the next best thing will be to start in Amarillo on the infamous 6th street, historic Rte 66, and former home of a business I owned and ran for 3 years in my younger days.
The reason for the adventure at this time?
A Bigger Adventure
which requires me to leave my vehicle with my oldest son, for I will have no need for it and no place to park it for at least two years.
So, to Seattle I trek, via Route 66 and the Pacific Coast Highway with stops in between.
Tomorrow I travel to Lubbock to see friends and drop off some items for safe keeping.
Hopefully I will leave very early and arrive around lunch time.
With two weeks to get there and another week before I fly back, much fun and excitement will ensue.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Surprises
Another surprise this week was the trip to the Jimmy Buffet Concert. There is a reason we leave high school behind us. I much preferred my memory of the boy from highschool than the man I met in Houston.
Three words: Shallow Horn Dog.
'nuff said.
The tailgating and concert were memorable and something to mark off the Bucket List. I am glad I had the opportunity for the Parrot Head Experience.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Pigs Fly
Out in the country, I mean, south of Lubbock TX, my parents bought a piece of land, 5 acres to be exact, when I was 7 years old. We moved out of our house in Lubbock and into a mobile home right before I started 3rd grade. Each day someone took me to school and I rode the bus home and walked half a mile down our caliche road home. There are many stories I could tell, but this one is the most pertinent today.
Living out in the country, riding a bus for over an hour everyday, going to the same school with the same people for nine years, tends to be similar to living in a small town. Everybody knows everything about everyone else and they are like elephants, they never forget anything.... every little thing you ever did, or didn't do, is saved and presented back to you at any time they feel it is necessary to remind you. Most of the time, it was given back to me in the form of an embarrassment.
Needless to say, I didn't date anyone I ever went to school with. I chose to drive into town and meet boys that went to one of the highschools there. But I digress...
There were a few boys who were nice to me and that I called "friend". One of them was just as cute as he could be and he rode my bus. Many an afternoon, I rumbled along, bouncing to the bumps of country roads looking out the window and stealing looks of this gorgeous young man who was in my class. My school girl crush lasted for years and I was never brave enough or felt I was good enough to give him any inkling of how I felt.
After all, the last one I had done that with had told me in no uncertain terms he was happy to be my friend but nothing more, so I wasn't ready to be shot down again, and a few years later, as a Junior in high school, I was seeing college boys anyway.
My mom and dad divorced. My mom moved us a hundred miles north to her hometown and I started my senior year at another school... full of boys, who were ready to meet some new girls... it was heaven...
Thirty years later, Facebook comes along and all those people I went to school with came with the addition of one friend I really wanted to stay in touch with. When I saw the boy from the bus was on FB, out of curiousity, I wanted to see what he looks like now... and what was he doing and how did things turn out for him? He was so cute in school with this killer hair that everyone wished they had or could run their fingers through...
So... I added him as a friend, he didn't have a pictures, just a cartoon.
Then I moved to Lubbock to be closer to mom as she battled cancer. When winter approached I wrote about how it should be illegal to build a house there without a fireplace because I was wishing I had one. He commented that he had two and never lit them...
A few months later he commented on how I travel to the beach quite a bit.
In January, he commented on a concert coming up in Houston and I said I would love to see Jimmy Buffet.
Last week he sent me a message.
He is going to be in Houston for Jimmy Buffet, his friend who was suppose to go isn't going, would I like to go?
I didn't hesitate, I said I would gladly go. A few messages and a text this morning and a road trip plan in place and I am headed to Houston this week.
If asked if I thought I would attend a concert with the boy from the bus, I would have said it was very doubtful. However I just got off the phone with him, and he was as nice as ever and we worked out a tentative plan...
Sometimes good things you want to come to you... but not when you want them or try to make them happen, but out of the clear blue sky... and years later.
Regardless of the boy from the bus, I will enjoy the concert and the adventure of an evening unexpected but pleasantly surprising.
Never pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity unless it will completely screw up something you want to keep in place. I don't have to worry about it this time, it worked out fine, but I have made "safer" decisions before and wish I had gone for the adventure instead.
Living out in the country, riding a bus for over an hour everyday, going to the same school with the same people for nine years, tends to be similar to living in a small town. Everybody knows everything about everyone else and they are like elephants, they never forget anything.... every little thing you ever did, or didn't do, is saved and presented back to you at any time they feel it is necessary to remind you. Most of the time, it was given back to me in the form of an embarrassment.
Needless to say, I didn't date anyone I ever went to school with. I chose to drive into town and meet boys that went to one of the highschools there. But I digress...
There were a few boys who were nice to me and that I called "friend". One of them was just as cute as he could be and he rode my bus. Many an afternoon, I rumbled along, bouncing to the bumps of country roads looking out the window and stealing looks of this gorgeous young man who was in my class. My school girl crush lasted for years and I was never brave enough or felt I was good enough to give him any inkling of how I felt.
After all, the last one I had done that with had told me in no uncertain terms he was happy to be my friend but nothing more, so I wasn't ready to be shot down again, and a few years later, as a Junior in high school, I was seeing college boys anyway.
My mom and dad divorced. My mom moved us a hundred miles north to her hometown and I started my senior year at another school... full of boys, who were ready to meet some new girls... it was heaven...
Thirty years later, Facebook comes along and all those people I went to school with came with the addition of one friend I really wanted to stay in touch with. When I saw the boy from the bus was on FB, out of curiousity, I wanted to see what he looks like now... and what was he doing and how did things turn out for him? He was so cute in school with this killer hair that everyone wished they had or could run their fingers through...
So... I added him as a friend, he didn't have a pictures, just a cartoon.
Then I moved to Lubbock to be closer to mom as she battled cancer. When winter approached I wrote about how it should be illegal to build a house there without a fireplace because I was wishing I had one. He commented that he had two and never lit them...
A few months later he commented on how I travel to the beach quite a bit.
In January, he commented on a concert coming up in Houston and I said I would love to see Jimmy Buffet.
Last week he sent me a message.
He is going to be in Houston for Jimmy Buffet, his friend who was suppose to go isn't going, would I like to go?
I didn't hesitate, I said I would gladly go. A few messages and a text this morning and a road trip plan in place and I am headed to Houston this week.
If asked if I thought I would attend a concert with the boy from the bus, I would have said it was very doubtful. However I just got off the phone with him, and he was as nice as ever and we worked out a tentative plan...
Sometimes good things you want to come to you... but not when you want them or try to make them happen, but out of the clear blue sky... and years later.
Regardless of the boy from the bus, I will enjoy the concert and the adventure of an evening unexpected but pleasantly surprising.
Never pass up a once in a lifetime opportunity unless it will completely screw up something you want to keep in place. I don't have to worry about it this time, it worked out fine, but I have made "safer" decisions before and wish I had gone for the adventure instead.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Blast from the Past
A trip out to Terlingua to contemplate a change in that direction last weekend brought me home through a place I haven't been in more than 30 years.
Camping trips with my mother and daddy for as long as I can remember, usually involved a river... most of the time it was the Devil's River. In a pop-up tent trailer pulled behind a station wagon, we would make our way from Lubbock to the river near Del Rio, Texas. Down a long caliche road, past the old man's shed who rented the camping spot to us, we would find a shady area and set up camp.
My daddy made a kitchen cabinet that folded up into a box with handles. When it was unfolded, it had 4 legs to stand on, opened up to create a place for the camp stove, utensils and cooking spices or whatever he would use to cook. Later a wash basin for washing the metal plates and collapsible cups we used for the meal. I don't remember the meals, but I know from my own camping, those are the best meals ever made.
Daddy would fish, Mother would fish, brothers would fish... I think I mainly played, but I was the youngest and not more than 6 or 8 the last time we camped there.
Nearly every trip, and I know we went at least 2 times a year, on our way out of the canyon where it was green with lush vegetation, we would climb the caliche road, with rocks and barren ground on both sides of the car. Daddy would say if I saw a rock I wanted to just holler and he would stop to get it for me. We had quite a collection at home already. Once, in a fit of orneryness, I said, flippantly, oh that one and pointed to a huge rock, too big for any vehicle we ever had. Of course he stopped, not knowing what I had pointed at... so I picked another one close by... Daddy happily picked it up and put it in the car, thinking he had just made his little girl happy.
One year, a huge rattlesnake was in the road and I remember Daddy getting out and throwing rocks at it. Fear and excitement enveloped us all in our seats as we watched with a sense of safety in the car.
I always thought, as a very young girl, my daddy was strong and brave and not afraid of anything. It is a very comforting thought.
Once one of my brothers found a goat near by, a baby goat, and picked it up and carried it back to camp. The mother goat came after him of course. Well, he ran into the trailer, with the cabrito in his arms and the mother goat ran around the camper having a fit until my mother screamed at him to let the baby go.
We spent Easter there sometimes, or other holidays when it was chilly outside, but mostly we were there in the heat of the summer on our way to or home from Piedras Negras across from Del Rio. Until one time, when we knew they were damming up the river to create a reservoir. The last time I was down that caliche road, you couldn't see the old man's shack where we bought worms and paid for our camping spot, and where we camped was much farther down the hill from there. It was covered with water, and the only way we knew it was the right spot was because the light pole next to his shack was above the water about 4 feet.
The trees, the grass, the beautiful fishing and camping spot was gone.
Last night I drove across the Amistad Reservoir and cried. Things change, memories fade, and those who know them best and could tell the story better are long gone... all I have are my childhood memories and how I remember them from the prospective of a 6ish year old.
Camping trips with my mother and daddy for as long as I can remember, usually involved a river... most of the time it was the Devil's River. In a pop-up tent trailer pulled behind a station wagon, we would make our way from Lubbock to the river near Del Rio, Texas. Down a long caliche road, past the old man's shed who rented the camping spot to us, we would find a shady area and set up camp.
My daddy made a kitchen cabinet that folded up into a box with handles. When it was unfolded, it had 4 legs to stand on, opened up to create a place for the camp stove, utensils and cooking spices or whatever he would use to cook. Later a wash basin for washing the metal plates and collapsible cups we used for the meal. I don't remember the meals, but I know from my own camping, those are the best meals ever made.
Daddy would fish, Mother would fish, brothers would fish... I think I mainly played, but I was the youngest and not more than 6 or 8 the last time we camped there.
Nearly every trip, and I know we went at least 2 times a year, on our way out of the canyon where it was green with lush vegetation, we would climb the caliche road, with rocks and barren ground on both sides of the car. Daddy would say if I saw a rock I wanted to just holler and he would stop to get it for me. We had quite a collection at home already. Once, in a fit of orneryness, I said, flippantly, oh that one and pointed to a huge rock, too big for any vehicle we ever had. Of course he stopped, not knowing what I had pointed at... so I picked another one close by... Daddy happily picked it up and put it in the car, thinking he had just made his little girl happy.
One year, a huge rattlesnake was in the road and I remember Daddy getting out and throwing rocks at it. Fear and excitement enveloped us all in our seats as we watched with a sense of safety in the car.
I always thought, as a very young girl, my daddy was strong and brave and not afraid of anything. It is a very comforting thought.
Once one of my brothers found a goat near by, a baby goat, and picked it up and carried it back to camp. The mother goat came after him of course. Well, he ran into the trailer, with the cabrito in his arms and the mother goat ran around the camper having a fit until my mother screamed at him to let the baby go.
We spent Easter there sometimes, or other holidays when it was chilly outside, but mostly we were there in the heat of the summer on our way to or home from Piedras Negras across from Del Rio. Until one time, when we knew they were damming up the river to create a reservoir. The last time I was down that caliche road, you couldn't see the old man's shack where we bought worms and paid for our camping spot, and where we camped was much farther down the hill from there. It was covered with water, and the only way we knew it was the right spot was because the light pole next to his shack was above the water about 4 feet.
The trees, the grass, the beautiful fishing and camping spot was gone.
Last night I drove across the Amistad Reservoir and cried. Things change, memories fade, and those who know them best and could tell the story better are long gone... all I have are my childhood memories and how I remember them from the prospective of a 6ish year old.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Incognito....
Never try to go unnoticed in a small town.
It is near impossible.
If not completely impossible.
Currently, while in my metamorphosis stage of pupae I have been traveling to a small town close by as part of my job. Each week, at least twice, a trip to the local library is involved. It is interesting to read the newspaper, skim the new books that have just come in, or look up the meaning of my most recent dreams in a book I believe should be in the resource area rather than be checked out. During my recent (3 months) interest in living off-grid in a tiny house, I have found there are not many books on the subject of any substance. So... on one such adventurous outing to the library I asked if they had any books on the subject and the polite librarian gave me a form to fill out for an inter-library loan. That was about 2 months ago. A week later, I asked, and the book had just come in. It was written in the 50's. I giggled, checked out the book and thumbed through it before I went to bed that night... interesting, but not much help.
The weeks passed.
I thought nothing of it...
We have been in the library several times, said hello to at least 3 different librarians, read, looked at the internet on their computers, browsed the dvd's for when my netflix are in transit and bought things at their fundraiser bake sale.
Last week as I was sitting and reading, the librarian, the one who had done the loan from the other library, approached me and said "I haven't forgotten about the off-grid books you were looking for, so I have checked back with them several times and we have another book that should be here for you soon."
Hmmmmm, and here I thought I was incognito....
Btw, they called today, while I was parking the car outside the library, to let me know the book was in.
The title is World Changing: A User's Guide for the 21st Century.
It is about the size of Moby Dick... so skimming and searching will commence before reading...
Just remember, a free thinker will stand out from the crowd, whether in a small town or a big city, it is just easier to be incognito in a big city...
It is near impossible.
If not completely impossible.
Currently, while in my metamorphosis stage of pupae I have been traveling to a small town close by as part of my job. Each week, at least twice, a trip to the local library is involved. It is interesting to read the newspaper, skim the new books that have just come in, or look up the meaning of my most recent dreams in a book I believe should be in the resource area rather than be checked out. During my recent (3 months) interest in living off-grid in a tiny house, I have found there are not many books on the subject of any substance. So... on one such adventurous outing to the library I asked if they had any books on the subject and the polite librarian gave me a form to fill out for an inter-library loan. That was about 2 months ago. A week later, I asked, and the book had just come in. It was written in the 50's. I giggled, checked out the book and thumbed through it before I went to bed that night... interesting, but not much help.
The weeks passed.
I thought nothing of it...
We have been in the library several times, said hello to at least 3 different librarians, read, looked at the internet on their computers, browsed the dvd's for when my netflix are in transit and bought things at their fundraiser bake sale.
Last week as I was sitting and reading, the librarian, the one who had done the loan from the other library, approached me and said "I haven't forgotten about the off-grid books you were looking for, so I have checked back with them several times and we have another book that should be here for you soon."
Hmmmmm, and here I thought I was incognito....
Btw, they called today, while I was parking the car outside the library, to let me know the book was in.
The title is World Changing: A User's Guide for the 21st Century.
It is about the size of Moby Dick... so skimming and searching will commence before reading...
Just remember, a free thinker will stand out from the crowd, whether in a small town or a big city, it is just easier to be incognito in a big city...
Friday, April 1, 2011
Hindsight... it ain't looking through your rearview mirror
The last guy I dated/lived with
however briefly
asked me
in a very upset voice late at night
"why do you want to talk when it is time to go to sleep?"
and I didn't know the answer,
until yesterday.
My clients come home every evening
sometimes to have a family dinner
this particular night was one.
They sat and talked about their issues,
personal and professional,
in front of their children,
who eat with their fingers instead of using utensils
which they are given
and not any attention paid to or conversations were had with these small charges, who were well aware their choices for behavior were going unnoticed by their paternal beings at the same table....
and as I observed
I thought back to when my boys were small
and being raised with step brothers and sister
and what our family dinners were like
As much as I would like to think that we asked the children
about their day,
or talked to them about what was going on in their lives
I am not positive we did
what I do remember
is that each night
when we went to bed
is when we discussed our day
and what was going on
Some of which was not any business of the children or
at least didn't need to be said in front of them
Then, and only then did I remember being asked
why I talk when we get in bed to sleep
and now I remember why....
then I thought
and I still do
I think it is nice to lay down in a bed
with a significant other
and talk, without noise or interruption, nor distraction
of your day, hopes, wishes, worries or dreams...
while someone holds you, or touches your feet with theirs
it is one of those little things in life that makes it
oh so much better...
so...
don't let someone make you feel bad about something so simple and enjoyable...
they don't realize how special it is... so show them...
however briefly
asked me
in a very upset voice late at night
"why do you want to talk when it is time to go to sleep?"
and I didn't know the answer,
until yesterday.
My clients come home every evening
sometimes to have a family dinner
this particular night was one.
They sat and talked about their issues,
personal and professional,
in front of their children,
who eat with their fingers instead of using utensils
which they are given
and not any attention paid to or conversations were had with these small charges, who were well aware their choices for behavior were going unnoticed by their paternal beings at the same table....
and as I observed
I thought back to when my boys were small
and being raised with step brothers and sister
and what our family dinners were like
As much as I would like to think that we asked the children
about their day,
or talked to them about what was going on in their lives
I am not positive we did
what I do remember
is that each night
when we went to bed
is when we discussed our day
and what was going on
Some of which was not any business of the children or
at least didn't need to be said in front of them
Then, and only then did I remember being asked
why I talk when we get in bed to sleep
and now I remember why....
then I thought
and I still do
I think it is nice to lay down in a bed
with a significant other
and talk, without noise or interruption, nor distraction
of your day, hopes, wishes, worries or dreams...
while someone holds you, or touches your feet with theirs
it is one of those little things in life that makes it
oh so much better...
so...
don't let someone make you feel bad about something so simple and enjoyable...
they don't realize how special it is... so show them...
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
It was only a Dream
As a teenager, I could easily sleep 12 hours or more a night, mostly on my stomach.
Later, after I was a young adult and after I had children of my own, I could still sleep a very long time. More than once I was asked or an insinuation was made that I slept "too much". Fantastically, and as hard as it might seem, this is when my mother would come to my defense and tell me that I had always needed more sleep than most people. It is still true.
As the "new me" emerges, after years of too little sleep, not being able to sleep on my back or my stomach anymore and years of insomnia due to unrest in my personal and professional life, I find I can again sleep 10 hours and still not want to crawl out of bed in the morning. Along with my newfound peaceful rest are dreams.
Dreams of bacon, piles and piles of it, raw and in wait for me to create some delicious morsel of an appetizer, yet it is unclear from recollection of the dream if it was my favorite stuffed japs or some other concoction. With bacon, anything is better. So that morning I woke up, and of course, wanted a BLT with hashbrowns and set out for the nearest Jims to have breakfast.
A while back it one with me hiking with my adopted brother over a landscape of rolling hills with holes in them, like something Dr. Seuss would dream up, dipping in and out of the connected holes, and a slow polar bear in front of us. I slapped the bear on the ass and told him to hurry up....
Then there are the houses with numerous rooms that lead from one to another, turn into my former workplace and a screaming out-of-control control freak of a boss and me standing there naked...
It is apparent I dream much and remember little, but sometimes I do and I ponder as to what it all means. After all, our brains filter and digest everything from our day and pysche as we sleep doesn't it? sort of? So, I have had plenty to work on for many many years... and now I am in catch-up mode I am sure.
My all time most repetitive dream is of being in a small cave-like indention in a mountain, next to the road. I am about 6 or 7 and with my family on a vacation. As I stand in the cave, looking at the rock layers of the wall, a bee buzzes around me and my oldest brother is standing there, and then the bee stings me and I wake up.
My favorite and most heart breaking dream is when I was a teen and I dreamt of falling in love with a boy, only to wake up and realize he was merely a dream. I still remember his name, his vehicle and how he looked to me in my dream. I still have to stop and look at anyone driving an avocado green double cab ford pickup when I see one. Maybe I will find him one day....
Last night, or early this morning, it was a dream of a lotto ticket.
I was checking my numbers,
and I had one,
two,
three, four....
five
Five out of Six... woo hoo
so I gathered up all my tickets
over the last month
and put them in a safe place, and
thought, well...
I wonder how much money 5 out of 6 numbers will be...
After I woke up,
realized it was a chilly morning
for late March, lazed around in bed reading blogs, and finally dressed and messaged a friend for the weather report, to make sure my choice of dress for the day was appropriate, I realized...
I WON THE LOTTO LAST NIGHT....
oh, oh yeah
It was only a dream....
Maybe dreams really do come true.....
I would like to think we can all make our dreams come true, if we don't get caught up in all the other "stuff" out there...
Later, after I was a young adult and after I had children of my own, I could still sleep a very long time. More than once I was asked or an insinuation was made that I slept "too much". Fantastically, and as hard as it might seem, this is when my mother would come to my defense and tell me that I had always needed more sleep than most people. It is still true.
As the "new me" emerges, after years of too little sleep, not being able to sleep on my back or my stomach anymore and years of insomnia due to unrest in my personal and professional life, I find I can again sleep 10 hours and still not want to crawl out of bed in the morning. Along with my newfound peaceful rest are dreams.
Dreams of bacon, piles and piles of it, raw and in wait for me to create some delicious morsel of an appetizer, yet it is unclear from recollection of the dream if it was my favorite stuffed japs or some other concoction. With bacon, anything is better. So that morning I woke up, and of course, wanted a BLT with hashbrowns and set out for the nearest Jims to have breakfast.
A while back it one with me hiking with my adopted brother over a landscape of rolling hills with holes in them, like something Dr. Seuss would dream up, dipping in and out of the connected holes, and a slow polar bear in front of us. I slapped the bear on the ass and told him to hurry up....
Then there are the houses with numerous rooms that lead from one to another, turn into my former workplace and a screaming out-of-control control freak of a boss and me standing there naked...
It is apparent I dream much and remember little, but sometimes I do and I ponder as to what it all means. After all, our brains filter and digest everything from our day and pysche as we sleep doesn't it? sort of? So, I have had plenty to work on for many many years... and now I am in catch-up mode I am sure.
My all time most repetitive dream is of being in a small cave-like indention in a mountain, next to the road. I am about 6 or 7 and with my family on a vacation. As I stand in the cave, looking at the rock layers of the wall, a bee buzzes around me and my oldest brother is standing there, and then the bee stings me and I wake up.
My favorite and most heart breaking dream is when I was a teen and I dreamt of falling in love with a boy, only to wake up and realize he was merely a dream. I still remember his name, his vehicle and how he looked to me in my dream. I still have to stop and look at anyone driving an avocado green double cab ford pickup when I see one. Maybe I will find him one day....
Last night, or early this morning, it was a dream of a lotto ticket.
I was checking my numbers,
and I had one,
two,
three, four....
five
Five out of Six... woo hoo
so I gathered up all my tickets
over the last month
and put them in a safe place, and
thought, well...
I wonder how much money 5 out of 6 numbers will be...
After I woke up,
realized it was a chilly morning
for late March, lazed around in bed reading blogs, and finally dressed and messaged a friend for the weather report, to make sure my choice of dress for the day was appropriate, I realized...
I WON THE LOTTO LAST NIGHT....
oh, oh yeah
It was only a dream....
Maybe dreams really do come true.....
I would like to think we can all make our dreams come true, if we don't get caught up in all the other "stuff" out there...
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
I Just (K)New It!
New Life
New Email
New Blog
Welcome to my new blog, dedicated with love to my two sons and my mother, Mary Elizabeth.
When the boys wonder more about their mom as a person and woman, rather than just their mother, perhaps the stories and daily writings will be enlightening for them.
Ya (my mother's nickname), I hope you will be proud. We miss you terribly and love you dearly.
For those along for the ride, I welcome you, and who could ever say they had too many friends? Not me, that is for sure!
New Email
New Blog
Welcome to my new blog, dedicated with love to my two sons and my mother, Mary Elizabeth.
When the boys wonder more about their mom as a person and woman, rather than just their mother, perhaps the stories and daily writings will be enlightening for them.
Ya (my mother's nickname), I hope you will be proud. We miss you terribly and love you dearly.
For those along for the ride, I welcome you, and who could ever say they had too many friends? Not me, that is for sure!
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