Whose life flashes before your eyes??

The short version is that we came extremely close to Kathryn being hit by a car yesterday, very seriously...hard, and fast. The tires screached as the car pitched forward as cars do when brakes are slammed. It wasn't Kathryn's fault AT ALL, but it sure was upsetting. She was in tears by the other side of the street after shouting "I'm ok!!" in the road, like she was telling herself more than anyone else. The guys all came out of the gas station to see if she was ok, after watching the very near-miss.

Hours later, she was looking at me... big, beautiful eyes blinking up at me- with the natural rhythm that I'm sure they always do, but somehow appearing to be awesome today- and I knew she was talking, but wasn't hearing her. All I could see was the wonderful fluidity in which her long dark eyelashes swooshed up and down without effort and with such perfect motion. She was laughing out loud at her own chatter, but steadily holding my gaze. Her eyes twinkled with a big smile in them. She has a great smile, but I'm not sure if I like it better when her mouth or eyes smile.

I get this numb/sick feeling if I think about it. I'm trying hard not to. But, I get this itsy-bitsy, teeny fragment of a flash of what she might have looked like last night if....IF.... when those eyes wouldn't have been smiling. Maybe they would have massive swelling, or road rash, or stitches...or be lifeless. She's always been a pretty little girl to me, with enormous spunk and energy and charisma, but today she's even prettier than usual....what a pretty color her eyes are, i keep noticing. What lovely skin she has. Beautiful teeth. I love them just where they are. We waited SO long for those adult front teeth to finally come in.

When it happened, we had been leaving CCD. It was the 20th anniversary of Mom's father's death (TWENTY YEARS??? That's a WHOLE other realization) and I was aware of it all day. Maybe I just WANT to think it was him who popped that car to a stop. Or her feet. Maybe that just makes me feel better. Maybe I named my youngest baby after him to make sure I always felt close. Maybe. She is a BEAUTIFUL girl.....especially today. What a face on that child. She's just beautiful.

Fast Learner

Jacob had double the homework this weekend because he was fooling around during one assignment and had to finish it at home. It took him a while -- he had to write Aa Bb Cc Dd Ee Ff five times and his name five times and then write I am cat and I am dog five times.

While he was doing his homework, William got a bath with bubbles. If Jacob didn't have homework, he would've gone first and had the bath the way he likes it -- sans bubbles (don't ask).

So, he said to me when he was getting ready to go in the tub, "I'm going to do my homework at school the next time so I don't have to have a tubby with bubbles."

The other day before school, Jacob asked "Is it the weekend yet?"

Truelove

Jacob's favorite book today, Truelove, is one that Brian bought for me before Jacob was born. It tells the story of a mutt named Truelove who feels neglected when his family has their first baby.

Jacob told me he likes the book because it has a lot of dogs and he would like to have more dogs. We have two already, one is about 14 years old and the other just over a year. Jacob really wants a dog he can hold in his arms. Loki, the younger dog, was already more than 40 pounds when we adopted him. He's a white german shephard.

I understand Jacob's desire to have a puppy. But, despite the lesson of the book Truelove, sometimes you can't take them all home. I know. I used to beg my parents to save every dog I saw on the street. They didn't, but I always had a dog as a pet and so will Jacob and William

Pets really are a true love.

Jo the Super Nanny

I admit it, I watch Super Nanny sometimes and last night was like being there for me. My boys are not nearly as bad as Rosemary's three boys, but I could relate to much of what she and her husband John are going through.

My boys don't listen to me unless I'm yelling. I can ask nicely twice for them to stop and they do nothing until the THIRD ASK (see, I'm yelling!). I take things away. I count to three. I make them sit in time-out.

Nothing seems to work.

And, like Rosemary and John, I have felt like giving up. Just let them do what they want. I don't want to yell every day. But, that is exactly what Rosemary and John did and why they were on the show. They gave up. Their kids did WHATEVER they wanted. They went to bed when they wanted. They never cleaned up their rooms. They broke their toys and didn't clean up the mess. They were even worse in school and after-school.

So, the good news is that I haven't given up. I've thought about it. I've really wanted to walk away, but I haven't. And therein lies the hope.

That and I've admitted to watching the damn show, so that's the first step toward recovery.

Glen Onoko

Brian left at 6:30 a.m. this morning to go to a football meeting. All the coaches meet on Sunday morning to review film of the upcoming Friday night opponent.

So, instead of sitting around the house because that's the easy thing to do with two little active boys (active is my new synonym for BAD), I took them into Jim Thorpe and we spent a few hours at Glen Onoko. It's the access area for white water rafting, tubing, biking and hiking up to the falls. The signs at the park told the story of an Indian maid who jumped off the falls to her death because she was forbidden to marry her one true love.

The really interesting thing for me is that there was a huge hotel somewhere in the woods there that attracted thousands of tourists in the early 1900s. The hotel burned but there were lots of little service shops and picnic tables. It looked really cool.

We hiked up the opposite side of the access area and Jacob climbed up the rocks. I was so nervous. But, I did take a picture. It's the one above. We then walked down the side of the mountain along the path and then had to turn around at the bottom. That was fun. Mooommmm, can you hold me? Moooommm, can we go home? Mooooommm, I'm tired.

We made it back and then the boys had a blast throwing rocks into the river. They pretended the little rocks were kids and the big rocks were lifeguards jumping in after the kids.

The boys had so much fun that after we ate some lunch at home we brought daddy and Makeva back down.

It feels pretty good to finally be experiencing some of the recreation available to us.



Today's Summary:
1. Nature is fun. We looked for red leaves.
2. Nature is free.
3. It doesn't matter if they fall in the water. Clothes dry.
4. Boys love to throw rocks.
5. I have to get out of the house more on the weekends with the boys. People understand if you punish them in public.

I was home and had the tv on with my 1, 2, and 4 year olds...

My story is much like everyone else's. Maddie was at school, and the others were home. Bryan was due to be back from preschool at noon, so he was home for part and not for the other. I had the tv on and it was rattling Good Morning America or something in the background while I was checking my e-mail. I kept trying to "absorb" what I was watching. Everyone's assumption (accident) was far fetched, that it could have been an "error", yet the alternative was clearly far more unbelievable. I ran up to mom's office upstairs and we watched some together. Judy arrived for work, and together we sat and watched. When it fell, I think I did too....and in that moment, like everyone else, I changed me a little, forever. The same range of emotions came tumbling down. Thinking we are sort of untouchable, invincable, and always have a shroud of safety because we are, after all, America.

The beauty...as Kathy said so well...is in the "joining of minds". Like-thinking. Much like some diversity has enormous beauty, so does the passionate "joining" and belonging that was also born then. I held my kids...not wanting to ever put them down again. Wanted to find a way to absorb them back into my body, and keep them there forever. I also wanted to encourage them to LIVE. Find the most valuable things to them, and LIVE them...LOVE people, enjoy being and feeling all that we get to. So many people were robbed of "today" that day...no more "I love you" and no more bedtime stories or a goodnight kiss. I wanted to make sure I never forgot to teach them to live those things, and not just "do" them routinely.

I've always loved the 4th of July. Mostly because so much of the town turns out...and it's the ONE thing that so many people have "in common", no matter how much you make or what color you are or whether you are single or married, parents or not. It's amazing to me, and always is sort of a tear-jerker. It's remarkable...how far away it seems, and how "just a minute ago" it feels too.

I just hope I rememeber to always value the things I brought away that day. Not all the changes were bad ones....but it was such a painful lesson to learn. And I didn't even learn the hardest lesson. I feel so badly for those who did.

More 9/11

I sent out a link to a group of close friends about the 2996 project, which is a tribute by volunteer bloggers to the people who died on 9/11. Each was assigned a person to research and write about.

My friend Barbara Roggeveen wrote back as follows:
Thanks for sending this along. Maybe someday this fall I can read it - not today.
----

Both my children and their now-spouses were living in NYC that day. Mark was on call at one of the hospitals. My now son-in-law was working in the building over Grand Central Station and was evacuated a multitude of times that day. His family in the Netherlands watched the evacuations on CNN and worried all day. My now daughter-in-law was working at city hall and had to walk home half the distance of Manhattan. Their friends were walking from 170th street to Brooklyn.

I was working at the Red Cross Blood Services helping to coordinate the calls and people coming in. It was a mad house. My friend Sharon was trying to reschedule the staff from all the buildings in Boston, at Harvard and MIT that had been shut down. Donors were coming in to an unstaffed donor room. But we got it staffed and all were open some until after midnight. What many of us did not know was that Sharon's niece and her fiance worked on the 89th and 91st floors of tower 2 and while she was handling all this chaos she knew nothing about her niece. Fortunately she was able to walk out thanks to the help of some construction men. A pregnant woman with her stayed with the police in the lobby. The men helping her made her go to the subway with them. She survived. The pregant woman died in the collapse. Her fiance also miraculously made it out and they are married. He finally can get on a plane but neither will go into a high rise. At RC we worked like crazy with all those who wanted to help and were so busy for 6-8 weeks, we did not have a chance to deal with the horror ourselves. It began to hit us hard then.

My children's friends who worked in the towers were lucky - one was in court, others out of the office and others working at home.

Anne rode her bicycle to the staging area for the ambulances near pier 49 and saw none of them moving. Mark and the group scared a patient as all the medical staff flooded his room to look out at the tower. Only one stayed long enough to see the second plane fly in. They all had gone into emergency mode but knew by late afternoon that the emergencies would be few and far between.

Pete and I were there the next weekend enroute to a wedding in PA. Flags flew from every bridge down I-84 and fire engines sat on the bridges the firemen waving flags and people honking at them. New York was a different scene. As we walked into Anne and Erik's apartment building the signs "Have you seen .... ?" were on the walls by the mailboxes and elevators. The trip to the hopsital where Mark was working was tougher. Signs coated the emergency room windows, garbage trucks blocked the streets moving only when an ambulance was coming in. The memory of those faces makes me shiver. Trucks carrying refuse were streaming down another nearby street carrying it to the barges to be taken to the dumps. People wanted to be in touch with each other. Everyone wanted to know how you were and for you to ask the same of each of them. Flags hung in every window. Crossing the GW bridge and from NJ you could see the smoke and haze from the towers. Not a pretty sight!!

Our children would allow us only to take a bridge to Pennsylvania but the wedding was beautiful and the sight of a country coming together was awe inspiring. That is what I want to remember now the other memories are too raw.
----

This perspective is from someone not actually there. Kristen, my friend, was actually in NYC that day. Hope I hear from her.

9/11 Plus Five

I was on the phone with my friend Polly when the first plane hit. She had her TV on, and like most, we speculated that it was a small private plane which had inadvertently wandered into the wrong air space, although how one could fail to notice the World Trade Center does stretch credulity a bit. Then the second plane hit.

After experiencing the universal gamut of emotions... horror, confusion, disbelief... perhaps the thing that sticks most with me is my memory of having been to Windows on the World. It was a clear February day in the early 1990s, and everything shined. The rivers reflected the sunshine, and the Statue of Liberty was the centerpiece. You felt you could reach out and touch it. The feeling was one of stepping into a glorious work of art... the colors, the mood, the tranquillity. Truly, this was a place like no other. And I mourned for the lost beauty, and for the people privileged to work there, in the presence of this almost holy beauty every day. For some it was probably just a job, but for most, it had to represent a literal pinnacle.

But in the end, those people had the farthest to fall. They were above the fire line, on the floors no one expected to reach, to provide help. And the beauty melted into smoke and nightmare. So in the end, sadness was the overriding emotion of the day.

Where were you?

Like Lynn in her recent post, I have very mixed feelings surrounding what happened on 9/11 and what it means. I now know why everyone who can remember Kennedy's assisination remember it in terms of where they were and what they were doing at the time -- it's a way to connect to the tragedy.

So, here's my story. Please share yours.

I was in my living room in Merrimack, NH with Jacob who was four months old at the time. I was still on maternity leave but working at home. I immediately called my online editor at the Telegraph and told him there was a really bad accident, that a plane had hit the World Trade Center in New York. I think he was near a television in a newsroom, but I'm not sure. He might have gone online himself to get updates, possibly from the Associated Press.

I stayed on the phone with him to help plan our online coverage. I was holding Jacob and rocking back and forth in front of the television. I saw the second plane hit the South Tower at 9:03 a.m. I was in awe.

Before the second plane hit, I was still thinking the first plane crash was an accident. But, then the second plane hit and I knew it was no accident. I started to cry, standing there, holding my first born child wondering who the hell would do this? Who would intentionally kill innocent people?

I stayed on the phone with Ernesto, the online editor, for a while longer and then I called Linda. I think we talked about whether or not we knew anyone working at the World Trade Center and then how horrible the attack was and what it means to us. I also called our Manchester offices and told the receptionist. She turned on the television in the conference room and everyone gathered there to watch CNN.

In the days following the attack, I monitored our online coverage and helped when I could. I was a new mother. My country was attacked. I was pissed. I was sad. I was scared for my family.

It makes me even angrier when I think about all the time wasted pointing fingers and not making us safer. We are a country afraid to stand up for ourselves less we offend those who hate us. Our politics stand in the way, ironically, of our freedom.

What a waste. The terrorists won in many ways, not just by the mass killing of innocent people. They won by using our ideology against us. They knew we'd be gridlocked and not able to move foward. They knew the political parties would act they way they did. In many ways, the terrorists are smarter than we are. They are lucky to all believe in one thing. Our varied beliefs, which is what democracy supports, are what imprison us and make it impossible to defend effectively.

So, that day changed a lot of things for me. It made me far more conservative than I had been and even more patriotic. I don't want my sons fighting this war. I want it to be over. What's really horrifying is that our enemies are unknown, they don't wear uniforms, they don't represent any country. I think bin Laden said this: "The difference between us and the West is the West loves life and we love death." How do we fight that ideology?

Joke for the Kids.....

Two Muffins are sitting in the oven.

One turns to the other and says "Wow! It sure is hot in here"

The other muffin says "HOLY CRAP, A TALKING MUFFIN!!!"

(You can change "Holy Crap" to whatever is age appropriate....but scare the hell out of the kid when you tell it. They fall apart if you give them a good surprise")

The eve of 9/11...

Just watched one of the many shows on this weekend about 9/11....

Just kind of sitting here breathtaken, - again - by the enormity of it all.

I didn't lose anyone... personally... but I can't help but recognize how it SO changed our world. The sense of our fallibility. Our sense of "control". Our sense of what is important. Our definition of fear. The scope of our dreams, or nightmares for some.

I guess I am "young" enough that this is one of the first events that I can recall with such clarity (like when Kennedy died and everyone can tell you where they were when...) It's also probably the first thing that was so enormous that happened while I was a wife and mother, too.

I vascilate from wanting to sink into it because I appreciate having everything that I do have SO much more when I submerge myself in watching this stuff, but at the same time it hurts. It hurts in so many ways I can't see straight. Guilt for being "fine" (if that makes sense) or guilt for knowing how much pain others live with, and how cranky I get when I don't "have" everything I want. What a jerk I can be sometimes. Really.

So, I guess this is my little moment of silence to re-ground myself.

Maybe it's my RE-ground ZERO.

Many prayers to all of those affected in any way by this... families, heroes, deceased, survivors, and more broadly, the military and thier families, and all of us who just will never be quite the same, and remember "before" it.

Time...even to Remember

There will never BE enough time to do all the things I wish I could do. It's Friday again, even earlier, since this was a four day work week. While that was excellent news when I worked, it is different now that I am at home all week. My list of "ought to's" is immense... I never really make much headway, for there is always another load of laundry to contend with, another dinner to start preparing, endless dishes to wash, and upkeep-ing that knows no end.

I want time to write. I want to share photographs of the world as I see it, or find meaning in work of others and admire it. I want to sit in a cafe along the Mediterranean, and watch the sun set.

Actually, I did that already, once upon a time, very long ago. My friend had an apartment above Torremolinos, at the top of a hill, with a breath-taking view of the Mediterranean, where I visited her. Balconies lined one side of the rooms, revealing the roof lines of the town below, and beyond that the sea. We would take morning coffee there, then go down into town to the beach where, for a few pesatas we could rent a chaise lounge for the day, along with towels. There were sail-cloth barriers to thwart any cold winds, and small restaurants had been built right in the sand. It was considered fine to ask the lounge attendant to bring you some sangria from the restaurant, or to stroll barefoot and in bathing attire, right over to the outdoor cafe tables and linger over lunch. No rules, no interference, no "Thank you for Not Smoking" signs....just the sense that they wanted you to enjoy yourself. The city itself would have been honky-tonk were it not for the cafes brimming with atmosphere, and the pedestrian walkways everywhere that encouraged strolling, window-shopping, dawdling. Instead it exuded life, noise, joy, enthusiasm.

The sun sets very late in that part of the world... not until 9:30 or so. And I remember sitting with my friend in a cafe, with a glass of sangria and watching the sun set on this sea that has witnessed so much through the centuries. The last licks of light flickered on the currents, and the fruit from the sangria hit me right in the lip.

Stuff !!

Why is it just when you think you're digging your way out from under all the "Stuff" ... the neat piles you've made come falling down?

I added this picture...just to make me smile....

: 0 )

Becky - my youngest daughter and Nicky my grandson.

And...I just wanted to see if I could actually add a photo.

What they say

Yesterday after Jacob got on the school bus, William said to Brian "Thank goodness Jacob finally started school. Now he'll leave me alone."

Today, William said to Brian, "I hope Jacob will play with me at Apple Tree."

(Apple Tree is the afterschool daycare center both boys attend in the afternoon).

Isn't that cute?

Jacob won't give up any detail about school and he's told me twice he doesn't like it. But, he tells Brian he does like it. I didn't think five-year olds were as guarded as teenagers. It's really frustrating. I want to know everything and all he says is, "School was good."

Yesterday, his first, day, it was "good" and all they did in gym class was "sit."

Oh and today he only had ten minutes to eat his snack and he got a goodie-bag (read marketing tool for vendors) filled with stuff "welcoming" him to Kindergarten.

Tonight he told me he doesn't like school because he wants to play and they don't have recess, which I know is not true.

So, maybe he'll open up over time and as the days get more exciting. I hope so. I don't want him to turn into the same old moppy kid I was.

Kindergarten

So today was the day my little boy hopped on the big bad school bus and was whisked away. I wonder what he's doing right this instant. Probably coloring with his crayons or maybe cutting paper. I know he has gym today because his teacher responded to our e-mail questioning the dress code -- can you wear shorts or not, yes you can. I was happy that she responded so quickly. I see that as a good sign.

I guess I'll know more about his day if I can squeeze it out of him tonight. He was never one for sharing too much detail, though. And, I guess that's part of growing up too. Sigh.

Click here for more pictures from this morning.

All things Japanese

One of the most magical things of my life was a short visit to Japan several years ago. It was a business trip for my husband who had been there before and knew I would love it. My expectations were definitely neutral, but I am always up for a trip anywhere.

What emerged was an enchantment I am at a loss to adequately explain. Of course, the contrasts between the city and countryside are dramatic. But what I failed to understand was the affinity I would immediately have for the Japanese people. They fascinated me, and I walked around with an irrepressable smile of wonder and delight, as the trip unfolded for us. As a lover of plants and flowers, I was impressed with the amazing attention to detail they applied to everything regarding nature. Trees took on new meaning, as I saw the form and shape they took under patient and studied pruning. Median strips for miles down a highway were lined with carefully clipped bushes, or identical conical trees. The Ginko tree has fan-shaped leaves that remind one of the graceful dancers who use fans with such artistry.

Once out of Tokyo, the countryside was incredibly naturally beautiful. It was unavoidable to see the connection between the flora all around and their depictions on delicately painted porcelain one sees.

We were taken to several temples, and although Shinto is the national religion, Buddhism is a partner-religion in many instances. One will be married in a Shinto ceremony, but Buddhist rites will prevail at ones funeral. And Buddhism really appeals to me now. Many years ago, I bought a stone Buddah which has had a secluded place of honor in my yard. I am Catholic, and the idea of putting a statue of Jesus, or the Blessed Virgin or a crucifix in my yard is entirely out of the question, and I can't really explain why. Maybe it is a social custom thing. Anyway, statue Buddah has been around me for 30 years, without my giving it much thought beyond that I was drawn to it.

Now, in Japan, I am seeing Buddah's handiwork and beginning to understand that I can participate in a less-than-complete sense without compromising my Christianity. Buddism is a religion without a diety. Buddah was only a wise man. To honor Buddah, one must strive for a state of mind and spirit that respects all things. I am quite sure this is compatible with the teachings of Christ. It eschews the material, and at times is counter-intuitive, but it brings me a sense of peace like nothing else does. Remembering to practice it is the hard part.

If I have a dreamy smile for no apparent reason, it may be because I am back there, in Autumn, gazing on a lovely reflecting pond, remembering the feeling when part of me was awakened for the very first time.

Quotes are wonderful

“Doubt yourself and you doubt everything you see. Judge yourself and you see judges everywhere. But if you listen to the sound of your own voice, you can rise above doubt and judgment. And you can see forever.”
-- Nancy Kerrigan


Remind me of this, now and then, will ya?

School begins on Wednesday...

...AND THIS IS HOW I FEEL ABOUT IT.

Girls

I've been blessed with 3 daughters - Angie, Kristen and Becky. Angie from my first marriage was to say the least - a challenge.
Nine years later and my second marriage my husband and I decided to give it another try.
Of course I think every man wants a son and my husband was no different.
As you can see by the names, it wasn't meant to be....Trying a 4th time ....no way!
Needless to say both Kristen and Becky are daddy's little girls even at 23 and 20 they are still his little girls.
Most people never believe me when I tell them that I never had to ground them or punish either one of them. They were and still are great girls.
Becky is a junior at the local university, Kristen lives in Colorado with her husband and is due to give birth-her first child, a little girl ... Lorilei Elise. Lorilei will be our 3rd grandchild we have two grandsons age 10 and 3.
Angie turned out to be a wonderful mother as well as a great daughter after the trying years. She is now married with the 2 boys.
Like all mothers I wanted the best for my girls but most of all I want them to be HAPPY no matter where it took them.

Happiness took Kristen to Colorado after she married a boy she dated back in high school. He joined the Army, went to Korea came home on leave for 2 weeks before leaving for Iraq.
What a surprise it was when she called and said "Hey mom guess who I saw at a party this week.....and by the way....we got married"
Needless to say my happy home wasn't a happy place to be for quite some time.

She packed up, moved to Colorado and Cody went to Iraq for a year. Now 2 years later she is HAPPY in Colorado, expecting Sept. 14th & Cody will be off to Iraq for his second tour of duty on Oct. 13th. I pray that Kristen remains as strong this second time as she was his first tour of duty in Iraq.

Today Angie and her family stopped over for a visit - it seems that they are looking to move to Tacoma Washington. Her husband has family there they have offered him a good position in the family business. She knows they will be HAPPY there.

I guess all those years ago when I wished them HAPPINESS - I didn't think it would take them so far away from me.

So after an afternoon of feeling sorry for myself, wondering what the heck I was doing wishing that them all that happiness .... after all I didn't mean that damn far away..... I came to the conclusion that....
One thing for certain, if and when Becky finds HAPPINESS ..... far away...... I'll have lots of nice vacation spots!!!
Barbara

Monday morning lesson

On Monday, Aug. 28, 2006 Dow Jones announced its intention of selling six of the 14 community newspapers it owns. The six newspapers do not include the one for which I work, but I felt impacted by the decision nevertheless.

The publicly traded company stated three reasons for the decision, in this order:
1. Raise cash to repay debt;
2. Invest in the current businesses;
3. Use approximately $155 million of capital loss tax carry-forwards which expire at Dec. 31, 2006.

It is widely believed that reasons one and two are being polite and reason three is the only reason Dow Jones decided to sell half of its Ottaway Media Group newspaper assets.

The reasons don't really matter. The fact is I've never been this close to the challenges that face my industry and it's uncomfortable and scary.

I've often read about the changes in Corporate America and that there are no guarantees regardless of loyalty, skill, and knowledge. I never really considered that I would be part of that new corporate culture -- I work at a tiny newspaper in Northeastern Pennsylvania afterall what do tax breaks have to do with me?

The fact is that the challenges facing this industry are not going away. What's happening to our audiences and our advertisers is not a cycle. It won't "come back," a reaction I often heard at my last newspaper.

If anything, Dow Jones' decision should be a rallying cry for those of us left under their corporate umbrella. We must find ways to engage our audience and deliver results to our advertisers.

Our loyalty, knowledge and skill is needed as much now as yesterday.

I must shelve the question that has dogged my mind all week -- will there be another tax break offer next year and will the Pocono Record be the carrot so Dow Jones can exercise the option?

I think I'm ready to move forward. I feel changed in some way, though. My trust is a little bruised. I guess I grew up a little this week. It was exhausting.

I hope I'm better for it.

Trash Day Blues

"Trying" was exactly the word for today. Rather than belabor the details, suffice to say that it involved an unplugged freezer, some really bad meat and a Friday trashman I desparately needed to connect with. Oh, and some flies. Although we are in a pretty thickly settled suburban neighborhood, we are plagued with wildlife who are clever enough to raid the wooden trash shed on a nightly basis.

There was a referendum to ban animal traps several years back, which predictably and roundly passed in this most indigo of New England states. Animal rights activists had everyone sobbing into their LL Bean Microfleece sleeves about those poor, poor bunnies. Of course, the cayotes, raccoons and larger game that have suddenly started taking over our backyards like organized Los Angeles street gangs are not quite what we had pictured. Having Wile E. Coyote sniffing my back door screen after polishing off the short ribs that wouldn't go down the disposal is frankly disconcerting. Only this evening the emergency reverse 911 phone in Holden MA was used for the first time after a BLACK BEAR was seen doing a little weekend shopping on the town's main street. Moral of the story? Next time vote with your reasoning, not your feelings!! Admittedly the encroachment of urban sprawl has affected this as well, and animal traps are not the complete answer. But we do have to live on this planet too.

Women Trying ...

Women Trying ...Well, this is my first attempt at blogging....thanks Kathy. I guess I'll know if I've done it correctly when I hit " publish post" down there. Ok, I've been sitting here for 15 minutes and only have the first sentence typed. Maybe this won't be as easy as it sounded...or maybe I'll get more comfortable with sharing my thoughts each time I visit. Till next time......