Yeesh....and did I mention Peter?

I am in Ohio...yep...right in the middle of a snow storm with ice....and it's purty...yessir, it's right purty...and I have to figger out how to leave...like I'm really motivated...I have twin babies...a mom...a brudder...a sister...a niece (with two sweet chillin') who is killer funny and a great niece who seems to like me...two sons and a daughter (who I would die for)..."The Dear Sweet One" and Hollykins...a grandson who owns my heart and who loves me and a grand daughter who appears to behave as though she tolerates me...I have an uncle who enjoys me...and I have a bro-in-law who bakes...yea, he BAKES and he's good....all of that is on the one hand....on the OTHER hand...



there's Peter....and Emmy...and Clarkie....and Mae...did I mention Peter?

Uncle Larry passed today into the spirit world....rest in laughter...

Until we meet again my dear, sweet uncle...enjoy your time with your mother and father and your brothers and your beloved sister...listen to what they have to tell you...rejoice in their love and their laughter...look in on your loved ones now and again, if you're allowed to do so...

History was made today in Washington D.C...and an era ended in a small room in Pennsylvania...life goes on...and so do smiles...

IS EVERYONE ON BOARD? CAUSE OBAMA'S DRIVING THIS TRAIN!

I, like many Americans, are feeling a surge of hope and optimism, even in the face of profound economic, domestic and international issues. I welcome new President Barack Obama and his message of hope and "serving a cause greater than my own good". We all know that it will take years for this economy to turn around but what CAN happen immediately is the change that can take place in our attitude. We can be more service oriented, more compassionate towards those who have less, be more present in our communities and by that, utilize our farmers' markets, support local charities, etc. I don't know...it's just refreshing for America to be on the same page...and I thought it was classy to respectfully walk former President and Mrs. Bush to the copter and stand there until it flew away...very nice...

I like the President's family...I like to watch their dynamic...I like having children in the White House...and I'm a sucker for puppies...and we're all getting one by proxy...how cute is THAT?

And one of the most compelling things of all?....

Our new guy is...are you ready?.....LEFT-HANDED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHAT IS YOUR FIRST MEMORY OF MONEY?

I was involved with a discussion with some friends the other evening and, naturally, the talk went to money. I certainly didn't lead it in that direction but one of my friends is an investor and has some people follow him on Twitter and such, yadda yadda yadda...

Anyway, the question arose, "What is your earliest memory of money?" Apparently, this is an imprint of how you conduct your expenses...or rather, how it has influenced you throughout your life. I remember distinctly my earliest experience with filthy lucre. I was perhaps 5 or 6. I had saved some change and my mother was going to take me to the "Northern Lights" shopping center to purchase whatever I wanted. The Northern Lights Shopping Center was HUGE in its day. It was ahead of its time. It was a strip mall in the suburbs, which meant that we no longer had to get dressed up to go downtown to purchase clothing, shoes, mattresses, etc. Revolutionary!!!! And you really had to get dressed up to go to downtown C-bus. That, and the fact that my father was a businessman there...with his own business, thank you very much...we were very cognizant of our appearance and manners when we ventured below a certain highway exit...

Anyway, it was wintry weather. My mom took me to the Five and Dime...don't get me started...it was heaven for a fat kid like me...oh! the joy!!!...paddles with balls attached that I could never master beckoned me from the bins, Barbie wanna-be's piled in trashy heaps screaming for attention, pretend make-up loaded with lead and Crisco that had already seen the finger prints of a hundred other girls and experimenting little brothers who popped open the "tester" and smeared it on one of the Barbie wanna-be's (so sad looking)...marbles, bounce-high balls, Nerf balls, Slinky's, oh my gosh-it was heaven...and afterwards, you could get a cherry phosphate and a roast beef sandwich smothered in gravy while sitting in front of the pastry platter with the glass lid on top while clutching your new prized possessions...sheer nirvana....

Anyway, outside of the door of the 5 & Dime there was a man from Africa. I think he was from Africa, that's how I remember him...I just knew he wasn't local and I don't even know how I knew that. My mother must have gone on in because I was outside on the sidewalk watching this man. This was the suburbs of Ohio in the early sixties...he did NOT blend...he had beautiful eyes and he was gentle and soft spoken and he smiled...he was collecting for some kind of charity involving poor children...I was transfixed...I couldn't take my eyes off of him...I don't remember anyone giving him any money...I don't remember any one else in the world except him and me...he smiled at me...I walked up to him and gave him the change in my hand...he bent down and looked me in the eyes and he thanked me in his deep voice and soft accent. He told me I was generous. My heart burst. I didn't hear things like that. I couldn't take in enough of his face to suit me. I ran into the store frantically searching for my mother and asked for the rest of my money. She gave me the remainder of it and I ran back outside to find him. I put all of it in his big brown hands and he smiled again. I've never thought much about it until last Thursday.

So, I guess my first memory of money is giving it away, happily...that explains so much...

GENERATIONS GO ON AND LOVE REMAINS THE SAME....

My uncle, Larry, is dying. He is the patriarch of my family. He is the brother of my father. He connects me to my past...my childhood...my roots. God blessed me with wonderful uncles...truly...and wonderful cousins because of them...this is a rarity in this day and age...something to treasure and feel gratitude for...

Larry and my dad, Sol, were very close. And they were close to their sister, Sophie (who went by Sally, don't know why...) And all of the kids were incredibly close to their mother, Sadie. Their little Yiddishe momma. She went by "Saint Sadie". I grew up with stories of her goodness and kindness. She was an ideal of who to strive to be like. It was an honor to perform her work in the temple several years ago. Great spiritual experiences have accompanied the temple work for this family as it has been performed in the temple. They are a spiritual lot. And now Larry....

I hope, in his hospice room, there is a chair for his mother...and his cherished brother Sol...because they're there. They're waiting...patiently...or maybe not too patiently...Dad never was known for his patience....oh...the love between those brothers...it was palpable...like the love between my cousins, Larry's sons-Jesse and Sandy...and the love between my brother David and I...and it's virtually identical to the love I witness between my sons...the love we nurtured between them and then stood back and watched as it stood on its own in a we'll-take-it-from-here-now kind of way.

So you see, I'm standing in the middle of this great ocean of generations and time. I feel the passage of love and family swooshing past me so quickly..."as if in a dream"...and I see the future....I see myself gone one day...and my children left to themselves...and they'll do fine, they really will...and one by one they'll be called over...and one day, those brothers will be separated...and the ocean keeps rolling...on and on and on...and it's all good and natural and we know where everyone is...now...and then...and later...we know...it's just these bittersweet moments when it all comes together...these pivotal moments when I can stand, if only briefly, on a precipice, and look back at where I've come from and ahead to where we're going and just, if only for a moment, just hold still and savor just one second while we're all here together...before we move on...nevertheless...we move...on.

SEE IT SEE IT SEE IT SEE IT...POOF! IT'S THERE

Hewo...I have a friend, Tom Ballentyne. He has authored a series of books that, not surprisingly, are right up my ally. They are called, "The Secret of Life Books. He now has a blog and there's the address----> www.TheSecretofLifeBooks.blogspot.com

He has meetings at his house here in the Valley each Thursday evening. They're fun, informative, and enlightening. His wife is wonderful, bright, and entertaining. Tom is all about visualizing. I've been about visualizing since the mid 70s. I've posted about my grapefruit experiment before. I'm putting together my vision board for the near future. I would like particular living arrangements when we move to Temecula this Spring. I'd like to be able to accommodate my mother during the winter (that is, if Everett doesn't claim her and keep her in C-bus!-but since she referred to him as "Howard" the other day while I was talking to her, maybe that isn't something to worry about...). I also want my home to a.) Be large enough to accommodate Holly and Eric, should they decide to come live with Peter and I or b.) Have a large enough property that there is a casita (little dwelling) for them to stay in separate from ours. This is what I'm "seeing". Of course, it has to be for the good of everyone. And I'm fine with that. Oooo, I forgot, I have to tell Peter.....

Dearest Elder...

Yes, being the wife of the ward mission leader our house is missionary central. We have missionaries coming and going all the time here. We have "greenies" (those who have just left the Missionary Training Center and "new" at the job) and we have old timers who are about to be "killed off" (ready to go home). We're also highly cognizant of the missionaries who have left our ward and have gone off to all parts of the globe. We write them each week. I decided to include my most recent letter in this post because I felt the message was significant. I always try to make the letters relevant or meaningful, but after our stake conference this past Sunday, I felt that the message delivered was pretty special. So...I'd like to share it...even tho I sometimes come off a little hard-boiled or edgy, remember...I'm just a bit too mushy on the inside and must protect myself with a brave exterior...so here, I'm letting the mushy, gooey inside show...again...

Dear Elder,

We had our Stake Conference this Sunday. Brother and Sister Sybrowsky spoke. They were wonderful. It was apparent that they don’t “officially” prepare talks. They speak entirely from the Spirit. Their experience is so vast and wide that they can call upon it for anecdotes on any topic and can speak for 5, 10, 20, 40 minutes or more, depending on the need. They said so very many inspirational things....I sat all amazed...

One of the things mentioned by Bro. Sybrowsky was of a letter he had received from President Thomas S. Monson. It was directly from the Prophet so he opened it up immediately. It arrived where Bro. Sybrowsky was serving on assignment as an area authority in Sydney, Australia. The letter was handwritten by the prophet. Before he read the letter, he prefaced it with the story of the Savior feeding the multitude of 5,000 on the mount. You remember that story, right? The crowd arrived without food...it became late...they began to hunger...one child had a couple of fish and some bread...the 12 disciples counseled the Lord to turn away the multitude so that the crowd could go home and find food, but the Savior, who loved them, ALL of them, took the young boy’s lunch and divided it among the multitude-filling them. When they had all eaten, the Savior asked the disciples to gather up what was left over so “that nothing be lost” (John 6:12) Then he went back to the letter. It read something like this:
Dear Paul,
A sister in Australia sent me a letter, which I have enclosed. Her husband is not a member and is not very open to discussions about the Church. This sister yearns for fellowship but her husband is not supportive of it. She wants her children to be active in Church. She is asking for help. All I have is her email address. Can you help her?
Tom


Brother Sybrowsky had no other information. He found out her address. It was a very remote and harsh six hour drive from where he and his wife lived. They made the drive together. The couple greeted them. It was quite remote. It was, oddly, between two districts of two remote branches. The closest branch was one and a half hours away! The man came out to greet them with a beer in one hand while waving the other hand.

They were invited inside with the intention of staying briefly-mainly because they had to drive six hours home and there were no hotels along the way. They spoke to the couple. The man had no interest in the church. The woman was so happy to finally speak with Saints, especially in her home. It was a very tender moment for her, as you could imagine, to have the spirit in her home. Elder Sybrowsky asked her if there was anything he could do for her. He said that immediately, tears fell from her eyes and in a tender and pleading voice, she asked if her children could possibly receive a name and blessing, as they had never experienced that. He said “certainly” and with her husband’s permission, one by one, each of her children had Priesthood authority placed on their heads and received their name and blessings. Brother Sybrowski then said to us at the meeting, “Do you know what was done at that time? A family was created on the records of the Church!” It was now a matter of record that a sister and her children lived in that house and those names were now a matter of record-a family was created!

After that was accomplished, Bro Sybrowsky asked the father if he had any questions? The father said that in fact, he did have a question. He said that his wife had mentioned that there was a possibility that their family could exist beyond death-that they could be together forever. He would like to know how something like that could be accomplished. Bro Sybrowsky was more than happy to explain how this was a very real possibility and that the father would be very excited to accomplish this and in fact, would be so excited to have an eternal family that he would give up his drinking to do it. The man said he didn’t think that would ever happen but Bro Sybrowsky assured him that not only would he give up his drinking to have his family forever, but he would be HAPPY to give it up!

Time passed as they visited with this family and several hours went by. Imagine! What started as a tentative we-can-only-stay-a-few-moments-visit lasted HOURS!!! Such is the course of events when the Spirit is directing the proceedings. The Sybrowskys finally had to leave, but with the promise that much would be done to get more people from the church out there. The man agreed to meet with missionaries to answer more questions. Boundaries were adjusted so that a branch COULD BE FORMED TO ACCOMMODATE THIS FAMILY...imagine, a branch was formed!!!!! The Sybrowsky’s assignment ended in Australia, but much had been done and is continuing to be done to fellowship this little family because, like the Savior said on the mount, “...that nothing be lost”. And it all started because a sister wrote a letter to the Prophet asking for some help. Such is the power of the Church that you are representing...the man that you are representing...Jesus the Christ. Polish up that name badge Elder...

With much respect and love,

Sister Deb

Below are some missionary reminders of an elder I knew...a few years back...does this look familiar to any returned missionary out there?...hmmmmmm?.....


I would have posted from my favorite sister missionary, but I couldn't locate her badge OR any paper thingies, but here's her pic...

Me, Juan, Evelyn, and that flippin' cranberry orange bread...

So I was at a local grocery store today purchasing things for tomorrow's dinner. It's for tomorrow because it involves pinto beans and they need to soak overnight. Perhaps that's too much information...don't know. But I'm assuming you were curious...

Anyway, I'm waiting to check out and the lady in front of me completes her check-out, is totally finished mind you, and the checker, Juan Gonzales...I can tell you his name because being two hours from the border, Juan Gonzales is to southern California what Bob Smith is to Columbus, Ohio relative to prevalence...so, this lady, let's call her Evelyn says to Juan (in her snowbird, Eastern seaboard accent), "Oh, by the way, the last time I was in here, there was a lovely loaf of bread, right over there *pointing* with cranberries and orange in it. I asked after it today and the girl said the truck was bringing it in later tonight." At this point, she stops and looks at Juan. At first I thought, "Oh! I know this Seinfeld episode. It's the one where Elaine fights the old lady for the bread at the bakery...wait..." No...

Now, I'm intrigued at what Juan's going to do. Apparently, the ball is in Juan's court. I turn to study Juan's face. His eyes are wide. The irises are surrounded by whites. His expression is one of fear mixed with confusion. In a split second he regains his composure. He does the only thing he can think of. He takes the pen out of his pocket and grabs a piece of paper. He asks for her name (he doesn't ask for her phone number) and says, "Let me have your name madam. I will check personally for that loaf of bread after the truck arrives."

She was satisfied with this service. As she left, the bagger asked if she had purchased the lip liner that was lying in the bottom of her cart. She replied, "No" and had to check out again. My items had to be cancelled and this item rung out. After the price was told her ($12.00) she said, "Oh, I don't want it for THAT price!". I looked at her...steady...and she changed her mind and paid for it.

After she left I looked at Juan and said, "So Juan, what exactly are your superpowers? Do you have the ability to fast forward time and bring that bread truck here quickly? Or perhaps once that cranberry orange loaf arrives, do you have the power to teleport that food item directly to her kitchen counter? Because you see Juan, I'm curious what exactly your resume looks like. Does this store only hire superheroes? You were really really nice to Evelyn, Juan. And me? I would have gone Christopher Walken on her AND her cranberry orange loaf. Really. Kudos to you Juan. Kudos." And with that, the credits would have rolled....

PETER'S PROFESSIONALISM....MAYBE IT NEEDS WORK, BUT I'M NOT COMPLAINING...

There are, on occasion, moments during the day, and they are rare, when I may have to telephone Peter while he is at work. And, work being what it is, he is probably in the middle of a job. And, if he is in the middle of a job, he is probably in the company of a client. So, to sound professional, he will keep the conversation very "work-like"; meaning that it will not be filled with flowery speech, which, if you know Peter, isn't exactly typical of his conversations anyway....but, as he does love me, he slips up...a lot...so a typical conversation goes like this:

PETER: Hello?

ME: Hi Honey. Sorry to bother you.

PETER: *very professional, like he's speaking with "the office"* Not a problem. I'm with our client right now.

ME: Got it. Hey, I'm going to swing by Costco and pick up some items. I want to know if it's okay to use your Amex.

PETER: Absolutely, that's a go. I believe that was discussed at an earlier meeting.

ME: I've got your meeting right here.

PETER: I realize that. Okay then, have a good day.

ME: I will have a good day, cause I've got your gold card buddy. Try to relax now. Love you.

PETER: All right then, Thanks for calling. Love you too. Doh!

ME: SCORE!

I get him every time....

IMAGINARY PASSENGERS...

Sometimes I like to pull people up from history and put them in my front seat with me. I like to drive around the city with them, or take them over the mountain with me and have imaginary conversations with them. I am a champ at imaginary conversations. A CHAMP! I can't begin to tell you the people I've spoken with. Joseph Smith (he's quite funny), Abraham Lincoln (a very dry wit), Mother Theresa (so short, I worry about the airbag thing), well, lots. I like to get their reactions to what's going on currently. Some people aren't very fun. Very stuffy types just aren't fun. But they get what's coming....oh do they....they are a captive audience my friends and they hear a thing or two, believe you me....they get the good finger-wagging they should have gotten before they went and died. For instance, there have been a few egomaniacal rock stars that blew out their own candles a little too soon that heard it from me, BUT GOOD! And Freud. He's has had the riot act read to him on more than one occasion. "Hey Sig, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. And SOMETIMES it's a nail file. A sharp one. That can stab an Austrian right through his puffy chest!"

Sometimes I hear it though. Sometimes a kind and loving Ghandi will set me back...he'll be all mellow to my madness...so I'll just drop him off and have to ponder stuff for awhile...oh sure, I'll pass him now and again...he'll be on the side of the road, smiling and waving, but I won't pick him up....I'll have to think...

That's why I have my imaginary dinner parties...to bring everyone together and work it out...but that's another post....

MOMMA'S BLOWIN' DODGE...

I spoke with my mother this morning...my 89 year old mother...yes, I actually reached her through her phone...amazing...of course, I had to call her at 6:00 am my time so I knew she was home and would definitely answer it...

She talked to me about her new "friend" Everett...he's 93...she's so excited...he wants her to meet him outside of the senior citizen center where they meet certain afternoons to play cards. He gets dropped off there by one of his children-Mother drives herself...anyway...he wants Mom to surreptitiously meet him on the OUTSIDE of the building, then he'll duck into her car and THEN THEY'RE GOING TO SPEED AWAY WITHOUT GOING IN!!!! They're going to CUT! That's right...they're blowin' Dodge...

ME: Well. Where are you going after that?

MOM: Back to my place.

ME: *silence*

MOM: Hello?

ME: I'm here. Why? *laughing nervously* What's up? Do you guys wanna play cards by yourself? (please let it be that simple)

MOM: I don't know. *said while chuckling*

ME: *shudder* Mom, hold on, my spinal cord just twisted and pooped out through my rib cage, I have to adjust...there....okay.... Hey! Tell me what you THINK you and Everett will, I don't know, DO.

MOM: Well, we'll have a few hours before I have to take him back for his daughter to pick him up.

ME: A few HOURS? A lot of things can happen in a few hours Mom. Lots of things. Have we had this talk before? My mind is cloudy but this feels vaguely familiar...I'm thinking, 1970?....only, you knew way more than I did and you did most of the blushing....

MOM: Honey, there are things that need to be done...handled. Things that only Everett can do.

ME: Oh my gosh! Stop it!!! What are you thinking? Does anyone else know about this? Why are you telling ME about this? Of all people, I'm the lamest kid in the bunch, Mother!

MOM: What? What are YOU talking about? I need things done for me, honey? Everett's a man. He knows just what to do. Take this electrical outlet on the kitchen wall for example. It's been broken forever and he fixes stuff all the time. I have a list of things he's going to do for me. He said he does stuff all the time at his house and he'd be happy to do some chores for me here. What are YOU thinking?

ME: *sweating* Me? Thinking? Nothing! I wasn't thinking anything. I wasn't! Can I go do my homework now?

MOM: Sure honey. Call me tomorrow. Take care of that spine.

ME: Bye Mommy...arrgghh...Mom.

IN THE EVENT OF THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE...

A couple of days ago, the boy and I were shopping at Costco. Afterwards, we settled down with our cart in the "restaurant" portion to have a dog and a pop. While we were sitting there, the boy was eying the store, top to bottom, quite seriously. He turned to me and said, again seriously, "When the zombie apocalypse hits, this is where we're coming." it was a safe and yet creepy feeling...

We discussed this apocalypse thing a few months ago...him, his dad and I...I did NOT fare well in the survival department...I just don't have what it takes to survive a dead person who's jonesing for my brains...the score board would read heavily in the dead's favor....my husband, on the other hand, would fare nicely...when the boy asked if he could shoot me if I became a zombie and I was walking towards him, he didn't even flinch..."Heck yea! That's not Deb. Blast her butt." I think that's definitely Hallmark card material...

I HAVE TO REMEMBER WHERE I LIVE SOMETIMES....

We are currently in the midst of the Palm Springs Film Festival and this year we are honoring Clint Eastwood. So everything is Eastwoodsy...trivia...quotes...movies...tickets...you name it, it's Eastwoodsy...go ahead, make my day...

I was driving home from taking the boy to high school and drove past the casino. Should those two things even BE in the same neighborhood? Billy Joel is playing there...the casino, not the high school...and shouldn't that be reversed? Billy Joel is working a mile and a half from my house. Billy Joel. He'll play us a song. He's The Piano Man.

There is a palm tree in my neighbor's back yard that has a light at the base of it. I cannot see the base of the tree, but I can tell it has a light located there. I can only see the top of the tree and its beautiful fronds. At night, that indirect lighting, combined with the wind, tends to bounce off of those fronds in the most delightful and hypnotizing manner. I like to stand in my carport at a particular time in the evening when the moon is over that palm tree and watch the reflection of that light dance on the fronds. That's a particularly pleasant time of evening for me. It's my own little personal light show. And then I realized that it's probably my seizure disorder talking and I really need to tear myself away and just go inside...but it's a painful departure and I seldom listen to my rational side...is anyone even remotely surprised by that?

I was going to apply to the Betty Ford Center for employment (five miles down the road) but they have no open positions...and then I thought...maybe if I go in as a patient first then I'll have my foot in the door...and then I thought, "No...wait..."

Okay...just some random thoughts as I was driving around this morning while the sun was rising in the East...because it just doesn't rise anywhere else round these parts...have a good day....

IF I WAS A CHARACTER ON SCRUBS...OR FRIENDS....

Okay...so I'm a sucker for those on-line quizzes at "bloghogs" or whatever they call themselves now...sue me....no, please don't sue me, you'll win because I can't afford a good attorney...but you'll also lose because I have nothing to give you, unless you count a few boxes of pictures stored in my daughter's garage in a little town in California...that's it...my entire estate...me and Buddha-we travel light....

Anyway, I took some quizzes that, after answering a few personality questions, determined which character I would be best suited to portray, or best be represented by, on these particular shows...which I admit, I rather enjoy watching. And guess what?...the characters match! Not only do they match ME...but they rather match each other in the shows...and their common trait?....no surprise here....SARCASM!...ta dah!!!! Yes! Sarcasm...gosh, I didn't see that coming! Doh!!! That was sarcastic.

The first show was FRIENDS. Okay...who hasn't watched an episode of FRIENDS and matched themselves up with someone there?...huh?....you've done it...I know you have...we all know you have....fess up.....the thing is, I have always been called Phoebe...I have distinct Phoebe moments...I won't get into them...really....it's just that, I have this sarcasm thing going...it's kind of like a train and it's just picked up speed and it's running out of control...it's not a mean sarcasm...and it's usually self-directed...it's typically an observational type of sarcasm, but you know, it's there...so yea, I was tagged as Chandler...sarcasm...because that's so therapeutic for a psychologist....OOPS...there's that sarcasm thing again...

The second show I inquired about...because I have that kind of mind..that, you know...inquires...was SCRUBS...I love me some SCRUBS...the writing is fun, the timing is impeccable and it's just a fun fun fun way to kill 30 minutes. But the main reason I watch the show is....ta da...no big surprise...Dr. Cox...I eat up every scene he is in...I can't stand it...he is such a bastard (sorry folks, he is) so, imagine my surprise when I discovered that I am, indeed, Dr. Cox. Wow. A sarcastic, insufferable, perfectionist who wants everyone to be the best they can and doesn't really want to hold their hand while they do it and who hides his soft mushy center with sarcasm. Or, to quote Dr. Cox, "A soft, inner bastard covered in a hard, outer bastard shell" Yea...that's yo momma. After I completed the survey questions, I spun around from my computer and breathlessly said, "Peter! Guess which SCRUBS character I matched up to be most like?" His expression never changed...his steely blue eyes never wavered...he pointed to the television screen and said, "You took the time to fill out a survey? You could have just asked me. I would have pointed to the bastard in the white coat who never gets anyone's name right and is really sarcastic". Oh.....

Momma is 89....

Happy birthday Mom...and I actually reached you on your phone...WOW...watta day huh? You had lunch with Everett and you met one of his daughters...and TT was there...and you made Everett (age 93) kiss you in front his daugther...now THERE'S a power trip...next year we'll do a big one...the big 9..0....wheeeeeeeeeeee

FOR T.T....FOR PACHELBEL...FOR LIFE...

Apologies in advance, por favor...I'm becoming sentimental, in addition to just the mental part, here in my "beginning of old" days (according to Mae Mae). I have a song that I consider the song of my life. It is Pachelbel's Canon in D. I explained to Abby right before the twins' birth why I felt it explained our mortal journey so well. I'll attempt it here and then explain why I chose TT's birthday to do that. Pachelbel's Canon begins with a beautiful beginning, a little measure. It lasts about 8 counts. And it remains throughout the song. All other instrumentation is built upon that little measure of music. All of it. That little measure of music remains constant throughout the entire experience of the song. I believe it defines baroque music. Anyway, this beautiful little measure of music is constantly at the base of the song...it never goes away....all things are built upon it...it is always there if you listen...it enhances everything else in the song...this, to me, in my most limited understanding of life and music is symbolic of the gospel. That beginning measure, those eight beats, are the gospel...they are God...He is with us from the beginning...when we are born, from the moment we take our first breath...when we're placed in our mother's arms...and throughout every experience that is added upon us...our first step, our first sibling, our first kiss, our first heart break, our marriage, our first experience with death, our babies, our lives, everything that is given to us, everything that we lose, every experience, every change, God is present, always, if we listen, if we're quiet, if we pay attention, we are never far from where we started, we are never alone...just like the song, we always have Him with us...that first measure, it's never far, always always always with us, everything built upon that...and TT, today is your birthday and I remember the nurses holding you up when you were new and we made eye contact and you smiled, a big open mouth smile...and God is still with you and so am I...

I LOVE PAULA POUNDSTONE...

Really. I think she is a funny funny lady. I found a bunch of her quotes this evening and I thought I would post them here. Just thought I would share with my friends and family what this clever, bright lady had to say...enjoy!

Adults are always asking kids what they want to be when they grow up because they are looking for ideas.

My Mom said she learned how to swim when someone took her out in the lake and threw her off the boat. I said, 'Mom, they weren't trying to teach you how to swim.'

The problem with cats is that they get the exact same look on their face whether they see a moth or an axe-murderer.

The wages of sin are death, but by the time taxes are taken out, it's just sort of a tired feeling.

OPEN LETTER TO MY MOM...

January 2, 2009 (Actually mailed today)

Dear Mom,

I hate your phone. It hates me. I call you a lot, but it either just rings and rings OR I hear Tiffany’s voice saying that she will be happy to take a message. But I know better...oh I know better all right...that just means that any message I leave will float into the nothingness where all of your phone messages go...some day in the not-too-distant future, NASA will launch a spaceshuttle and it will actually bump into a cloud that consists primarily of all of your lost phone messages...and a few missing socks...and Bubby’s car keys...AND YOU STILL WON’T GET THEM!!!!!
Why don’t you love me? Why won’t you pick up your freakin’ phone? Do you know it’s me? Do you have a special “Debbie-Doll” ring? When I call you, does your phone have an evil laugh? Do you hide until the laugh fades away? Do you throw rocks at the phone? I see how it is....
Well, guess what lady, you don’t own the postal service...bwahahahahahahah
I can write you all day...every day....as many times as I want to....all you have to do is check your mailbox....you’ll never know if a letter is there or not will you?....
Well, I’m going to go back to my math homework. I’m still taking Statistics and a psychology course called, “The History and Systems of Psychology”...yea, it’s riveting... I recently wrote an annotated bibliography of five peer-reviewed journal articles...doesn’t that sound like fun? Now I can be boring about even MORE things. If I get invited to a dinner party, I pity the poor person who gets stuck seated next to me. Poor schlub.
Peter is doing fine. He spoke at a baptism last night. He was perfect. I woke up with the distinct impression that my husband is a better person than I am. I am still digesting that information. It’s a new feeling for me. I’ve spent over 30 years thinking the opposite. Happy New Year to me, I’m the one that needs fixing. That’s kind of humbling. I suppose my new year’s resolution is “try not to let my husband know that he’s way better than me”. Of course, since he’s way better than me, he’s already figured that out and pre-forgiven me...which really frosts my shorts....I can now add “ego-problem” to my lists of things to work on in 2009. Oh! Did I add that his credit is much better also. Gosh, this year is just getting better and better. And he’s less sarcastic...like THAT'S a challenge.
Okay lady, I’m going back to my school-work now. I hope this letter finds you healthy and happy. I wouldn’t know because I CAN’T REACH YOU ON YOUR FRIGGIN’ PHONE.!!!!! Not that I’m concerned too much....
I hope you’re getting out and about. Take care. I’ll write again soon...BECAUSE I CAN’T REACH YOU ON YOUR FRIGGIN’ PHONE.
I love you. Truly.

Debbie Doll.