Monsoon 07

(photo credit: A Allen Photography)

Finally. I have been having a standoff with Mother Nature. I have no time to water and it's her job. But the stubborn ole wench just holds back and holds back. So much so that my bamboo is looking more like dry wheat ands all of the pot plants have died. But I was determined to wait it out. Tonight, my patience paid off. We had a good long soaking here in Glendale. The ground is so hard and parched that all of the topsoil is now in the pool and 2 ducks have taken up residence in the grassy area in front. Everything is finally wet and I feel vindicated. Now if only we could have 30 days in a row like tonight!!

Paws, on the other hand, had an old man moment and freaked out at the thunder and lightening. I tried to soothe him while I was perched on a metal garden chair in the middle of an intense lightening storm with Nikon poised. I was in the moment and lacked compassion. Therefore, he decided to leave. This is the second time this week he has taken it upon himself to wander the loop alone. When the first wave died down I went to retrieve him. He's over across the way in Harry and Sharon's front yard. It's raining and I have no shoes. I call him back and he gives me a look as if he just flipped me off. He starts to run (as fast as he runs these days) to defy me! I am wet, barefoot, with jeans soaked to my knees now chasing the old dog down the street. Catching him was not an issue, getting him back home was. As he likes to live naked, he had no collar on. He dug in and refused to go home. I am pleading in the middle of the street while grabbing him by the scruff and pulling him toward home. This scene continues for a half of a block and for the duration, he is fighting me. I finally got behind him and pushed his butt toward the garage as he is digging his feet in to the ground so as not to move. Asshole. I won in the end. My reputation in the neighborhood, however, is suspect. I can just imagine the talk behind the windows witnessing our outlandish behavior.

Miss Emma wanted a blog recognition, as it has been awhile. Grandma is working so much and in between that and traveling I feel neglectful of our times together, I hope to remedy that soon. She had definate ideas about posing for this shot.

She always welcomes me with love and much, much to say. This child never stops talking.It's a wonderful life when you have so much to say you just cannot contain yourself.

Speaking of work, here's the "A" list crew, hard at it. Nikki, Emo, Tyler and Beverly. And excellent team! Thank you.

Hello Moto

My latest wacky mishap involves a cell phone, a glass of water and insurmountable odds. Yet......

It was a great day on the plastics line. Everyone is gone for the day and I am lesiurely completing some cables after having cleaned the line and set it all up for tomorrow. I feel pretty smug about our progress and my mind wanders to dinner. I have a flank steak, fresh onion and some multicolored peppers to make fajitas. I'm just about to go to the kitchen to get started when my phone vibrates in my pants. It's Dan. I am surprised to hear from him as he is at Darwin using the satelite phone. He either wants to talk to me badly enough to use the satelite, or he needs to know where the Deep Woods "Off" is located. In my delight to talk to him, I fumble the phone and it falls into my glass of water sitting beside me. FREAK ACCIDENT?? It's a 3 inch opening, yet my phone has found its way in, complete with a splash. Though I dive in after it right away, it is dead. I don't believe it though. I can revive a phone. So I blow on it, remove the battery and sim card, shake it, reassemble it and nothing. I bring out the big guns and use the hairdryer assuming I can blast it back to life, to no avail.

I have to have a phone, especially in the morning when I have to call receiving at work to announce my arrival so they will open the load door. I go to the hall closet which is jam packed with unwanted items that I can't yet bear to get rid of. Consider it my "junk closet". A step up from junk drawer. I find 3 old cell phones and think I can piece together some sort of communication device to tide me over. I insert my sim card into the first phone, but it's locked. I try the second phone, but it's to old. The last phone is juuuust right. But HAS NO CHARGER!

Sigh

I'm off to the mall. The result is a new slide phone with a 500 page manual and more features than I will ever learn before I break it or it becomes obsolete. So if you call me and I appear lame, be gentle, I am figuring out how to answer.

My other problem tonight is that I turned on the TV and everybody's head is cut off. Is there a button for that? or a mode or???? Technology is taunting me tonight. I'm going to go look at stars instead.

Back to Reality

I woke at 4 AM again and wonder about this new, early morning habit. I roused my sleeping computer so I didn't have to be alone, but it had nothing interesting to offer. Paws glanced at me as I wandered by on my way to the kitchen for ice water. The kitchen clock is off by four hours due to the recent burgular situation. I make a mental note to fix it and wander back to my bed to steal a couple more hours sleep.

My day officially starts with a wake up call from Dan questioning me about the inventory in the bear boxes and how much wine is left in camp. I have a full day on the plastics line and feel a moment of dread about our ability to turn out 250 boxes each and every day for the unforseeable future. Not only is it a daunting task, but I have a brand new crew starting together today for the first time.

Nikki arrives first, or rather her belly (my grandson) does and she is not far behind. She's all business and immediately launches into the cable job. I wish I could clone her. Beverly meanders in next full of lighthearted chatter and enthusiasm, followed by Emo who speaks less than 20 words in his entire shift. You can't blame him really and have to admire his courage to spend the day with three women that babble on about recipes, pregnancy and reality TV.

I become very animated on the subject of reality TV as a new season of Big Brother has started and we have a live feed running in the background on the laptop next to payroll. Beverly is just as enthused as I am about our vouyeristic obsession. We think we can convert the others.

Slowly the talk and chatter dies away as we all fall into work mode, focusing each, on our individual tasks that eventually becomes a part of the whole. The line flowed smoothly, everyone was dynamic and we four worked extremely well together. From start to finish is took 5 1/2 hours for 4 people in harmony to complete 260 plastics. There is certain victory in honest work, no matter how humble. Today we were victorious.

Big Brother is on! I settle in with Pistachios, wine, Paws and a sigh of contentment.

"Oh give me a home"

I was woken at 4AM by a thunderstorm! What a treat. It's even offering some rain, however insignificant. It's as if the universe is welcoming me back.

I met this herd of Buffalo last week, Saturday or Sunday, I can't remember which. They where roaming a meadow just south of the Grand Teton National Park. They decided to cross the road we were on, leaving us no choice but to yield to their slow migration to the other side. I got a little closer than recommended to get these photos. Better to face the hazard than to be in fear of it. Feeling alive involves some risk. I certainly feel alive!

I would love nothing better than to spend my Sunday editing and preparing a slideshow from the mere 429 pictures that I took while on vacation. But my workload at Overflow is daunting and I have to start. Photos and memories will trickle in as time allows.

I have to retrieve my dog and my work ethic. I think I can find both.

The storm has ended, the day begins.

Home Again

My disappearance for the last ten days was a much needed reprieve. I return with a zest for life and saddle sores.

I have been a traveling. I sent myself a postcard from every significant destination. I look forward to getting them this week.

Stop Thief!

It started as an uneventful Saturday night. Satisfied by my smelt fry, I settled in on the corner of the couch with John Bon Jovi and my evening glass of wine. I prepared to spend the night writing when Nikki called to alert me to a moon phenomena. PawPaws and I wondered out to the golf with camera in hand. The moon was indeed spectacular, resembling a harvest moon, but in the summertime. I spent an hour photographing it as well as Venus and Saturn who are putting on their own show on the other side of the horizon.
(The Saturn and Venus show peaks July 1st (tonight) in your western sky. These two worlds are in conjunction tonight, separated by less than 1 degree on the sky’s dome. A view worth witnessing.) No wonder I am an emotional basket case this weekend. Lunar lunacy is tugging at me. I don't give credence to Phil's theory, but it has been a fucked up weekend.

I took my leave from lucidity and went to bed early. Sometime in the night, 12:34 to be exact, I was jolted from my sleep by a noise. I thought it must be a coyotte that woke me. I rolled over to check the clock. The clock is black and I can't see the time. I drag my feet to the floor, the ceiling fan is not on and it's hot in here. I touch the switch, but it's already in the on position. My groggy brain thinks I am still asleep, as nothing is working in the house. I amble to the bathroom and flip on the light. There is no light. I am registering that I have no electricity. I am waking up to the fact that something is not right. My first thoughts are of devistation, alone and vulnerable I have to face another situation. My minds grabs and grasps at what this might be. Is there a blackout? Did I pay the bill? I go outside my bedroom door and the entire neighborhood is well lit. It's just me. I shake my head to gather clarity and walk out the front door to check my breakers. The breaker box is wide open and has been tampered with. My electricity has been deliberatly turned off by someone. My heart hammers in my chest and I am out in the open. I can't see the levers and don't know them well enough to flip anything, so I get myself back in the house and lock my door. It's dark. I am terrified and I don't know if anyone is in the house with me. I scramble to call 911, but my house phone runs on electricity and is dead. My cell phone is dead, I did not charge it. It's so damn dark in here. I am always prepared but cannot remember where a flashlight is. My heart is coming thru my chest now. I feel like a character in one of those babysitter movies. I am a sitting duck. I remembered a red emergency light in the big bathroom cupboard and I locate it. So I have a beam of light, but I am trapped. My only option is to go out to the box and flip on the breaker. I had no choice, so I hurried out, did it and hurried back in. Called 911. I now have to check out the house. Am I alone? Or do I have an inturder. I need to get my gun. I find it, with it's security lock! And where is the key??? I locate key and bullets and load the thing and go from room to room. I think everything is OK and my hammering heart begins to subside. My sweet policeman shows up and sweeps the house, checks my doors and security and locks up my utility box. He stayed for 2 hours out front. My terror touched him. He informed me that I was the 5th house tonight that had been victimized. He reassured me that he would be in the neighborhood all night. All they stole was my night and my confidance.

I need a vacation.

Smelt for Dinner

I am aware this is an uncommon delicacy. I can devour a mess O' smelt with the hunger of a starved woman. And that I did. The sensuous nature of preparation and anticipation for the taste of these small gems highlighted my Saturday night.

It's been a busy weekend and I can't seem to focus my mind. The ping pong ball nature of my thoughts is driving me nuts.

I need to get back to basics. Good friends, good books a really good moon and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.

4 days til my next retreat from life. I'm hoping it will cure my current neurosis.

Ode' to Insomnia

I doubt it's a coincidence that the only lines I ever memorized were these from Robert Frost:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Much of life feels like that to me, so much so that sometimes I actually recite these lines in my head as I convince myself to put in just one more day, one more hour, one more minute, the battle against devastation done in increments. But there are days like today when it's good to rebel against ole' Robert.

Today was one of those days. It started out well - I learned that I triumphed over the dastardly forces of circumstance. That in itself was enough to put a smile on my face for the whole day. Then I spent much of my afternoon in the plastics arena. Had to squelch Maureen from a late night visit. It felt better to go through it alone tonight. The moon is almost full again which brings up horrid conversations with Phil regarding the moon - vs - water - vs - women. His subintellect is almost endearing.

And night decends. Two plates of dog cookies and to many minutes alone finds me on my knees on the kitchen rug hoping I am going to keep myself together one more night. I wrap my arms around me trying to feel life, I'm slipping again.

Details are of no meaning. I'm going have to dig deeper in order to get out of this hole I have fallen into.

Darn details...

Don't Save the Last Dance for Me

Walking the streets of my neighborhood this evening, I noticed the tranquility of the sprinklers whirring on the golf course with that swoosh noise. It's comfortingly familiar. All the houses are dark with their occupants safely sleeping inside. A lone coyote calls his mating melody in the still of the dark of the night somewhere hidden down the golf. I walked and walked as I passed the sleepy world that unfurled around me; one lonesome insomniac making her way through a life that is suddenly brand new. Paws is oblivious to my melancholy and exhaust as he is happy to have an evening walk.
I missed Phil deeply as I walked alone with my thoughts this evening. I wondered if we could have worked things out and stayed together. But I surrender.

Lazy Thursday Night

It’s Thursday night and I am curled up in my lazy boy listening to my Ipod, specifically the new Bon Jovi album, and I write in my paper journal. There is something so empyreal about putting pen to paper in a tangible and old fashioned way. This feels like giving the craft of writing the appreciation it deserves.

I stop to take a drink of wine as the phone rings. I don’t answer. I let my answering machine pick up. It's someone I met at the wine bar and gave my phone number to. I was uninterested then and I am now. Hell, I am not going to call you, I think. I have had enough of all that bullshit. The message ends as he hangs up. I continue writing.

Paw Paws walks into the living room and plops down in front of the fireplace next to my chair. I reach down and rub his head and scratch his back. He is in ecstasy.

I look for purpose in my night and tell myself lies about how well I am doing.

I am alone and have to face myself in this condition. I'm going to put an end to this evening. I walk around to lock up the house and Paws wanders off to go peek out the front window to check out the neighborhood dogs. He's apparently seen something of interest as he his barking insistently. I'm glad he is coming out of his depression. He hates telling his friends that he is from a broken home and has been withdrawn lately. The stigma of it all. I call him to come to bed and he ambles faithfully beside me down a long hallway. We settle in.

Everyday, I say I am going to quit blogging. Everyday, I keep on writing. It's my word addiction. Until I am published, I know someone reads me. And yes, I had publishing doubts last night, but I have to keep it burning in order to get there. So I say the "P" word again tonight.

I find it odd that I share things on this journal with people I will never meet. I share things that I would never share with people in my actual life. It must be a product of my introverted personality trying to get out.

Spangled with Stars

Tonight's sky

It is late afternoon. I am bored and have read my fill of the internet and completed my share of plastics. I wander to A.J's on the corner in the hot afternoon sun, hoping for dinner inspiration. The day has been brutal. It shows on the faces of strangers scurrying from air conditioned market to air conditioned car. There is a desperation for escape from the torrid temperatures that isolates people.

Summer Solstice is upon us. The longest day of the year. Rather apprapoe in my current life. I can take refuge in the fact that I have recently spent some long days and if this is the longest, it must start to get easier now. Something to look forward to.

My book is not really coming together. It has been years since I have been so consumed with writing something other than this blog. I lie awake in bed thinking about where I will take my characters next and how to describe their surroundings and experiences. It's such a welcome distraction. I don't know if I will ever get published, but still…the book will be a product of me and I have poured my heart and soul into it. Something to leave behind.

Late night just descended with a thud. These late hours are hardest on the insomnia addled soul. I sat for the longest time listening to Coast to Coast AM. The thing I notice the most as I wander around begging for sleep is that there is a clear sky spangled with thousands of stars. I inhaled and exhaled deeply enjoying the night air as a welcomed calmness and peace overcame me. I realized I was exactly where I needed to be in life.

Prologue

Beginnings are exciting, even when motivated by fear.

Fear not that which is new, embrace changes.

I changed my name, I changed my phone service provider. I changed my old life in for this scarey new journey that I am now traveling. I am getting a pretty good return for a change. Instead of laundry, I tie flies. Instead of cooking, I devoure words. Instead of cleaning this house, lying in the sun. Instead of content family life, I search for adventure wherever I can find it. And I am finding it on the corner in the wine bar, at some airport that I happen to find myself in, at the top of Squaw Peak mountain, in unimagined destinations that now fuel my imagination.

I'm moving this mountain one pebble at a time.

I've changed my mind

"As a Man Thinkith"

I am trying to be less morose and lighten up this poor depressed blog. The writers that I now hang out with all seem to have humor in their stories while I continue to whine about my meager existance. The piece that Mel wrote regarding me was a lesson in perspective!

Nikki and Emo (aka: Amara, his real name) arrived to work with me this morning. They began trickling in around 9 AM as I can't get my lazy ass out of bed before 7:30 anymore. Nikki was first to arrive. We began with an unmotivated spirit and procrastinated about plastics. Our diversion was to dig in to the closets and purge this house of final remainders of my marriage. We had a grand time sorting through it, as we always do when we pull out old memories. It wasn't long before work ethic was disgarded altogether and the living room was littered with boxes of boxes of memories. We spent the morning sorting it in to piles. The stuff she wanted, Phil's stuff and the stuff I am going to burn. The scheduled bonfire will be theraputic. It's a cleansing feeling to have rid this house of my disinigrated past.

Emo, being late as usual walked into our chaos as if it were the norm. Rather than question, he donned iPod and screwdriver and went to work. He spoke no more than 10 words during his entire shift. I sure hope he gets comfortable here this summer. I've done my best to make him feel welcome. I even cooked for him! But I think he was more of a victim than a guest as I have been desperate to cook (as Mel so eloquently writes about). Maybe I should cook for Mel!

I kicked everyone out by noon because I have had enough interaction with people today. I finished moving the piles of books and boxes to another wall so I don't trip over them in the dark when I have had my share of wine tonight. Pawpaws looks forlorn because it's to hot to be outside, so I have mercy on him and we went to the McDonald's drive through. This seems to have satisfied him. He now lays on the 3 X 3 square of tile in front of the fire place. The coolset spot in the house. I on the other hand, need to clean myself up and go to class. (GCC = my version of AA) I am in need of some serious learning.

Perhaps I am stronger than I think.

BMW MISONEISTIC

The demise of my marriage is obvious. It stems from my lack of shoes and a BMW.

The shoe problem I have conquered. They are new and expensive and walking all over this house. I think if I had paid as much attention to myself as I paid to Phil, I might have been a more interesting partner. He certainly had expensive shoes, but it didn't make him more interesting to me. Lesson learned, invest more in shoes and less in the man.

The BMW is another story. We are forced to spend days together on occasion. And though I can appreciate it's beauty, luxury and comfortable ride I hate it's arrogant attitude and mid-life crisis symbolism. It tends to attempt to make me feel inferior because of it's seemingly complex self, but in reality, it is a machine that is incredibly flawed. So similar to my ex-husband. Each pretending to be something better than they really are.

This phallic symbol of success is my nemesis.

But I try to get along.

That is until I am driving to the mall and cannot find the right button to do whatever I need done so I resort to voice recognition commands. Like my ex-husband, the car doesn't listen and it too, turns a deaf ear to me but offers it's own opinions. I ask for the satellite radio station to be changed and I get it's reasoning voice telling me he is changing to AM radio because he seems to think he knows best. I try not to get annoyed when I have to ask a second time. And it occurs to me I am being much to polite with the car because every time I say "please" he hears place and gives me some navigation bullshit. I learned not say thank you out loud because he gives me "altitude" information. Which brings up a whole new subject. When speaking to the robots in our lives, are we to be polite and ask please and thank them? Or do we just adopt a cold attitude and appreciate their servitude from afar?

In frustration yesterday I yelled "fuck you" at / to the car because I just wanted him to turn the radio down and all I got was climate control. I guess he was trying to cool me off.

Keeping my Soul Intact

Crisis at the keyboard continues. I know it is my job to write and the excuse of writer's block is just that. Executives and factory workers are not afforded the luxury of calling in with worker's block. The same principal must apply to me. Discipline lives in the fiery sadness of my soul. The truth of the situation is; if there are no tears in the writer, there will be no tears in the reader. Maybe I can harness this pain into a masterpiece and stop these craven moments that occupy my time.

My current peer group criticism's include the fact I am an adjective maniac (or adjectiveaholic) I already knew this. Yet I throw myself on the mercy of strangers to reitorate. So I am attempting to have a perspective party and put things in to perspective with tonight's blog wafer.

WHY DO WE ALWAYS WAIT?

I dug out the emotions and laid them on the carpet underneath my feet and attempt to tromple them in to some sort of order. No matter how hard I squash them, they keep rising to the surface. I don't want to feel what they have to offer. I don't want the gripping truth to speak aloud but would prefer to live in the fantasy of a miracle cure. I can no longer hold myself to the past and have to feel the future. The future feels like an enemy and speaks to me of the anger of having been a fool and the uncertainty of the tunnel I find myself crawling through with no light at the end that has always been promised.

I don't know who I am and I don't know why.

Tears just come and I am aggrivated at myself for them.

I am raw and have never in my life experienced this wealth of emotional turbulance that propels me every day.

I spent my whole life thinking one way, and am now forced to look in a completely different direction. I have hope mingled in the pain. I am a different person than I was

I feel alive. Why did I wait so long.

In the Margins

Without inspiration for the past 10 days I find myself struggling and scavenging for words. I have a mental cramp that I just can't shake. Even with the current wealth of encouragement and resources that surround me, I am still looking to the thesaurus for inspiration. But only find synonyms and antonyms that do not have a story to tell.

It seems that since I actually started writing, attending class and peer group meetings, my writing has come to a complete halt. Don't know if this is because I was such a closet writer in the past and am now finding myself fully exposed. I possess a sheepish attitude about admitting my need to write. Compare it to an alcoholics need to drink. We do it quietly and cover up the truth of our addiction. I have to publicly admit, I am addicted. I write journals and letters. I write on this blog daily and archived most of the entries. I write in the margins and on napkins. I carry around endless numbers of legal pads and notebooks. I would rather write than hold a conversation. Currently I have 20 plus writing projects underway and all of them going nowhere. The book project is screaming for my attention. My need is to find focus. But maybe the first step to my recovery is admission.

Hi, I am Julie and I am a writer.

The past week I have been traveling. The destination was not as memorable as the journey. I found myself out of my element going through airports, hailing taxis, riding trains and trams, talking to strangers and simply being on my own in the world. This exposure to life has proven to be exactly what was needed to reinvigorate my recently bruised soul. My plane home was cancelled leaving me stranded in the Las Vegas airport. The problem at the time, seemed insurmountable but the experience in the end became the catalyst for my healing. I recognized a fellow traveler, also now stranded and engaged her in conversation. We brainstormed the best escape route from this town. We had hours to kill and decided to have dinner together, along with a third stranger that we collected along the way. We three woman sat in a dark restaurant exchanging life stories. Jodi works for CNN and Kaye is an oil tycoon in Texas. Feeling inadequate in their company I didn't want to admit to just having a manufacturing line in my home. My insecurity overshadowed my personality. But as drinks and conversation flowed, I admitted to being a writer - yes out loud and in public, and this admission melted the conversations into books, current and recently read titles. This is a subject that I can hold my own with. I talked animatedly of my recent reads and thoughts on each of them. I spoke of Al Gore's first book, An Inconvenient Truth, and mused aloud about his new release. Of course Wayne Dyer was fondly mentioned as well as favorite authors, Marianne Williamson, Esther and Jerry Hicks and deeper literary giants such as the Course in Miracles. As my mind flowed free sharing the wealth of knowledge that books have offered me, I suddenly realized, people might find me interesting. I can hold my own with people of substance.

It was an eye opening moment. I am no longer someones wife or simply a mother to my kids. I am a woman with a big life and intend to live it!

Amuse My Blog

I had an urge for an upgrade. This will do.

I am adding readers and writer's links. If you would like your blog or webpage listed here, please send a link to Julie for consideration.

4, 3, 2 Down to One

Happily down to one, I find myself on my way to my next adventure in four days. This time, I'm looking forward to getting on a plane and let it take me to three mindless days two states away. This is a weekend to reconnect, even though it begins on a Monday.

My single self has single behavior. I cooked my dinner and then ate it out of the pan. I have never done this in my life, but couldn't fathom dirtying a dish. And it made me laugh.

Spent a great portion of the day writing and it was an alphabet aphrodisiac.

The gauntlet is to be published, and a personal goal. But I have extreme writer's disquitetude about my words. Don't want them read, but realize I have to expose myself.

Getting in the flow is getting easier with the book in the oven and my classes and the peer groups are offering confidance. Vickie and I have a challenge as to who will be published first. I am stubbornly determined.

My day concluded with Cowboy wisdom, poetic words, pink skys and a big moon.

And last word, you can talk brilliantly about a problem, but once you invoke action, expect a masterpiece born from the wisdom thereof.

Nothing for granted

This probably borders on child abuse, but she had a soft place to fall.

I abused my employees a bit today in demanding they complete 200 externals in 1 shift. They are complete. It took 14 hours and my brain now echos with the grumbling and complaints that were free flowing around about 2 PM. I have no sympathy, as none of them started with me at 5 AM. That was a task!! This proved to myself these difficult deadlines are obtainable, as they were all along. Honest labor bears deep satisfaction at the days end.

Miss Emma came to work today!! And we have the complaints from Drazena to prove it!

She was a bright spot in every one's day! She had a word or two of wisdom for everyone and when no one was listening, she simply danced. She has an entire choreographed routine that made us stop and laugh. She has an enchanting way of engaging people. If you sit back and watch her, she eminates pure joy. I sat back a lot today, and watched. Most people have an almost infinite capacity for taking things for granted. Emma teaches me another way. Live intensely in the present moment. We have nothing else.

Under Construction

I hate weekends and this one is particularly hard. I won't let this be a source of discouragement, but rather, fresh stimulus. So I am easing my way along this treacherous path which I now find myself. Some days its great big planes and open sky. And other times, the scary road and snow. It's snowing like crazy tonight and that road is scaring the hell out of me. But a wise man recently told me, while on that road, just put on blinders and keep going.

Michel and I had an amazing day. It started with my bad mood towards his laziness. I couldn't help but make my feelings known while he stared at a mindless TV while I scrambled to get him ready for this trip. I finally threw up my hands and shared a few words with him. I can't say he sprung in to action, but he got it. We stood at the kitchen counter, the spot in the corner where all messages are left for one another. Together we formulated a game plan to get him on his way and then we got on our way to get it all done. Starting at the bank we changed dollars into Euros and got over the shock of the bad change it was, $1,000 US = $731 Euros. Stopped at the optometrist to order contacts for 3 months and then let our stomachs do the talking. We went to Cheesecake Factory before the anticipated shopping trip......

And as we sat there at that table in the round room in the back looking across from each other, he just started talking. And there was no stopping the flood of words. It was the most honest communication we have ever shared. We talked. He told me of his teachers and how he feels about higher education. He talked about his friends and the mistakes they have made and the things they do. He went in to his imagination of what he would do after high school and pondered the changes that were coming. He talked about France and surmised that he would lose much weight there, because he was apprehensive of the food he might encounter. We talked about girls and girlfriends. He told me lengthy stories and bad jokes. We ate. We shared calamari and fries.

The entire afternoon flowed in to a sweet memory that I will always have. I forced him to shop for clothes and he pretended to hate it. The result was exceptional!! He is ready to go, as far as garments. The top of the day, was the haircut. This is a sore subject, as he wants it to grow with wild abandon and never comb or care for it. The result makes him look like "cousin it". So I took him to Teresa. His experience in her shop was great. When I enter Teresa's shop, there is just an air of everybody talks to everybody and we mingle and laugh. She is such a pure soul. We entered, she hugged me, she assessed Michel's hair and sat him right down. And the entire shop, employees and clientele, became involved in his story of "going to France". It was a half hour of shop talk. He was comfortable and she did a great job!! He feels good about himself and I am thoroughly satisfied about the day.

I called Phil to tell him about the successful day, because it was a milestone for Michel and I wanted to share his son's enthusiasm. He was less than interested and I was sorry I called. How a parent leaves a child for their own selfish reasons, I will never grasp. Michel has been given a big life to overcome, as both of his parents have now done this to him. As with Vickie, I had to spend time with the man to get to the child on the other side that needed me. I was supposed to be here for Michel. Here I am.

There are times in every ones life when something constructive is born of adversity..... when things seem so bad you've got to grab your fate by the shoulders and shake it!