Love The Life You Live

In The Morning Light

2011-09-12T02:04:00.005-04:00

Standing in dim the morning light, no lamps or overhead fixtures were turned on, I took a step back to get a full view of what I had just created. It was beautiful. My heart started to beat just a tiny bit faster at the idea that it would soon become a reality. French Country had met Southern Charm and it was a dream about to unfold into something real and tangible. Smiling I went over the compilation of fabrics and accents, my fingers lightly touching each and every item.

Reaching out to touch the fabrics again, my hand glided over the soft nap of a deep, rich, red chenille. The raised pattern of fleur d'lis looked as rich and opulent as an antique, silk velvet but at a fraction of the cost and a hundred times the durabillity. After all, great design isn't merely beautiful fabrics and shapely pieces of furniture, it's about utility and endurance as well. The red chenille was going to be stunning as the cover for the new family room sofa. Laying next to the chenille was a fabulous french country style fabric. The background was a soft blue, the same shade of blue as a cloudless day in early spring and it was scattered with fat, luscious cabbage roses in the same shade of red as the etched chenille . The roses were scattered over the soft blue colour and mingled together with smaller, butter-yellow roses, pale lilac hyacinths, pretty pink tulips and multiple shades of green for the leaves of each blossom adorning the soft cotton. The chaise it was intended for would be overstuffed and plush, trimmed in a pale blue and yellow fringe.It's large back pillow entertained a multi coloured stripe over the same butter-coloured yellow as the roses on the blue. The stripes were thin and delicate but of different widths in red, green, blue, lilac, orange and pink. The perfect compliment to the french floral, the same stripe on the pillow would cover a generous Bergere chair and the cushions were going to be trimmed with the red chenille of the sofa. It had all come together so perfectly. There were 5 more fabrics folded in and splaying themselves over the table. They sat atop a handwoven oriental rug boasting of red, green, yellow, black and dashes of sky blue. Fabrics for drapes, ottomans, benches, pillows all synched together as if they had been woven as mates from the beginning.

I loved mornings like this, working in the peaceful, uninterrupted hours before the doors would open and the clients spilled in to break the quietude of the showroom. Weeks of working on this design had finally culminated into this day. Holly was a new client and she would be in at 10 am to see what I had created for her home. Every idea, every nuance, every colour and need had been relayed to me by her. This was my craft, my talent and it was exciting to see it all come together. I came in at 7am that morning to pull together all of the items needed for Holly's presentation. The presentation was nearly ready, all I had to do was complete the pricing for each item. Most of it was done but there were a couple of last minute pretties I had thrown in to help accessorize the finished room.

Looking down at my watch the time was 9am. She would be here in an hour. As I turned to walk towards my desk I heard the door open. The door had a small electric bell on it that would 'ding' whenever it opened. Who was here so early? It had to be a colleague because I knew I had locked the door behind me when I had arrived. When I looked towards the door my colleague came running in, she was shouting "Oh my god!! We're under attack! We're under attack!" My mind was turning her words over in my head, what was she talking about?

She ran toward me yelling to me as she came closer, "Turn on the T.V.!"
I darted past the furniture and turned the television on. Just as the image came to the screen I saw a plane flying directly into a tall building. There was a cloud of black smoke already in the air but where did it come from? That's when I saw the building next to it was in flames. It was the World Trade Center in New York. My knees gave out, my stomach turned and I started to cry. I couldn't move away from what I was seeing. The people were leaping from the burning buildings in their attempt to escape the flames. On the streets people were running, trying to find their way out of the chaos and danger. Nothing seemed real to me, but I knew it was all very real.

How much time had passed I don't even know. The bad news kept coming, two other planes were being used as weapons, one of the rogue planes had hit The Pentagon. The Pentagon, how can this be? Oh my god, more people, my friends, our Government. Who could be behind this? As the news continued to unfold all I could think was, woe to those who dare come here, on our soil and murder Americans. Whomever had spawned this evil, cowardly attack was going to die. I knew this with complete certainty and I cried.

September 11, 2001 changed Americans lives, perspectives and values and September 11, 2001 would change the rest of the world too. Forever changed with no road back to where we were.

Everything Possible

2011-09-01T20:21:00.001-04:00

Sitting here in the fading light of the day, I was moved by a voice in my head that pushed me back to this place. It's quiet in my living room. It's quiet everyday here. Occasionally the sweet meowing of the kittehs pull me out of my own thoughts and I turn my focus to Mishie and Brisco. They are both so sweet and if it's possible for a cat to 'love' a human these two definitely love me. They bring a smile to my face many times throughout the day, every day.

When the day is coming to an end and the light is disappearing over the horizon, it's such a peaceful, quiet time. I'm not sure why but I'm compelled to do so but when I see the setting sun I grab my camera and try to capture the day's end whenever possible. There's serenity, beauty, joy, hope, sadness and possibility in each and every one of those sunsets. Capturing that in a photograph, well....I doubt that I possess that talent but I try anyway. It's not just sunsets, it's sunrise too. Both of those fleeting moments of the day offer an ending and a beginning. What you do with either is entirely up to you. How you view them, it's entirely up to you. I see them both as a promise of what can be. There's so much we allow to slip past us and we never blink an eye. Why is that?

This evening, in the fading light I saw everything possible ....now, what to do with that.....

Resting on My Laurels

2011-05-18T23:55:00.000-04:00

A dear friend sent me the title of this post in a text in April. April 28th to be exact and when I read the words on my phone screen the wheels started turning. At the time, I didn't do anything with them and almost forgot about them. Tonight I was reading another text from a friend and she was asking me about an interview I had gone to for a new job. The interview went well but to be perfectly honest, the job isn't right for me.

Yes, you can say it.... "In this economy? Why isn't the job 'right' Di?" based on how difficult it is to find a job one might wonder why I'm not thrilled to find this opportunity and grab it with both of my greedy little hands (I Know, my hands aren't exactly little...rather large actually). To tell you the truth, I'm not even sure I'm doing the right thing by not pursuing this job offer with a little more vigor. The economy is in a bad state and who can say I'll find a job that I am crazy about. No one can say that I will find that dream job. Thing is, what I DO know is that I also can't settle for a job that would take me in a direction that; #1 doesn't help to serve our men and women who serve this nation, #2 doesn't have me looking forward to going to work every day and #3 doesn't allow me to use my strongest skills. All of those things are extremely important to me.

Perhaps I AM resting on my laurels.

The Great Depression

2011-02-23T13:16:00.004-05:00

Last night I was lying in my bed, snug in the soft comfort of a mattress that has shaped itself around my body, scrunching my eyes trying to focus on things in the darkness. It wasn't as if I was interested in viewing the items I was 'focusing' on. It was more to see if I could. My vision has been perfect for most of my life. A few years ago, that changed and regardless of the fact that I have been living with this less than perfect vision for about 4 years, I still try to focus. On everything.

I suppose this depresses me a little, my inability to focus on things that were once easy to focus on without even a thought. Not even a blip on the radar screen in my brain. It simply was. While I was lying in the dark, failing at practicing my focus techniques, I also began to take a mental inventory of my life. Yes, I did a quick inventory of my 'things'. In the grand scheme of life, 'things' or material possessions are ultimately meaningless. So why is it then I am having such an excruciating heartache over whether or not to sell my red sofa? The logical part of me knows that I don't need it, I could do better by getting a dining table in it's place. But my emotional side, takes one look at that sofa and it's impossible for me to part with it. Ridiculous. This illogical behavior, it depresses me a little.

Adding up all of my life's 'blessings' comes easy when I'm laying there in that soft hollow, in the dark listening to the sounds of everything around me. The train whistle outside, the kitten's paws padding across the floor, my other kitteh chirping as if he's a beacon for the kitten to find her way onto the bed with us. Marc breathing heavy and mumbling in his sleep. A dog barking across the courtyard in a neighbors apartment. Even in silence, there is never silence......my thoughts bouncing around inside my head, talking to me in a soft quiet voice that's barely audible. I count all of those sounds as blessings and I count all of the wonderful people in my life as blessings and I count this slightly body shaped depression in my mattress as a blessing, I call it The Great Depression. All of these things added together overwhelm me in their greatness and beauty. I am a lucky woman and every night I'm able to lie there in that wonderful soft place and reflect on what I have rather than what I don't have.

Parrish The Thought

2010-12-13T21:34:00.002-05:00

I was sitting in the passenger seat of my own car. Watching with interest all of the things passing before me as we fled down the highway at 80mph, on our way to get away.

Scattered amongst the sunrise, the mist on the water, the trees lining the side of the road was a green, reflective sign saying Parrish, 20 miles.
Parrish 20m i.
Parrish, perish, pearish, parish. Perish?

Inspiration

2010-11-27T13:29:00.000-05:00

Inspiration arrives at our doorstep in so many different forms. Sometimes it knocks so loudly that you cannot ignore it no matter how hard you try. Sometimes it taps just enough to get your attention. Other times, it's like the porch light flicking on and off when your mom says it's time to come inside because it's past your curfew. You can close your eyes and ignore it but when you open them again....it's still there, blinking on and off. Now, what was that.....?

What inspires you?

"...could you paint me better off?" matchbox 20

2010-04-18T21:45:00.001-04:00

Apparently, I've gone far enough with the well known aspects of... progress, and are ready to face the unknown. My Horoscope says so, hence, it must be true. Hell, I'll bite. It falls right in line with what's going on in my life at the moment. Strength and courage, guess I'll need some of that too. Thank goodness The Pour House is with in walking distance from the new place. The beer there is pretty good. It's brand new so I hope they can find the patrons they'll need to keep the place going. It's very Urban Loft looking inside, painted in blues and chocolates with cool sleek furniture, including a couple of sofas, to boot. Colour aside, it's got over 20 taps of courage and strength. LOL

Maybe I've been living someone else's life. So often, that is actually how it feels. Changing my lifestyle is going to be harder this time than it ever has been in the past. Strangely, as hard as this is for me, it feels as though I am finding my way to the person and the place that I should be. Choice.....no, this isn't the path I chose, it's the one I found myself on after other choices were made. My path, my life, is tied to another's and I think that often changes the choice you would have made if you were alone versus the ones you make when considering another person. Yes... I do have a choice in this part of the equation, but it has never really felt that way. When it comes to matters of the heart your mind sometimes loses it's ability to objectively choose. The heart makes decisions for you even when your mind is tugging at your sleeve to consider where you're headed.

Life is About Choice

2010-04-16T20:59:00.000-04:00

Life is about choices. Choice, that's when you exercise your freewill. We all have it. Even in the most dire of circumstances. There is a man, lying in the middle of the street. He was thrown from his vehicle when an 18 wheeler lost control and jack knifed into his car as he and his wife and daughter are on their way home from dinner. He looks to his right, he can see his wife in the car and he hears her calling to him for help.The car is upside down, it's in flames and her seatbelt held her in place. Off to his left, he hears his young daughter crying and then sees her lying in the street about 4 feet away, her leg is disjointed, broken, she can't move. His decision will affect him and his future. He can see that both are within his reach to save but he only has time to save one.....as he thinks he will go pull his wife from the wreckage, he hears a car coming towards them. But the accident is just over the crest of a hill, the oncoming car won't see the wreck until it's too late. The car won't be able to stop in time to keep from hitting the daughter lying in the road. Freewill, the man has it, pull his wife out before the car explodes or pull his daughter close...he can only do one. So often, people will say, he has NO choice. But he does, the question is, which one will he make and how will he live with his choice?

How do you live with yours?

It Does a Body Good

2010-04-14T17:22:00.000-04:00

Change.

It does a body good............................................????????????? It does. Really. Reinventing yourself is a good thing. Life creates opportunity for us in ways we never expect. I've always believed that. Sometimes though, change fucking sucks. Yeah, I used the F'bomb. Sorry y'all but that is how this one feels. Normally, I embrace change because I know that I am going to experience new and wonderful things as well as challenging new experiences. I like that. This go around, it's breaking my heart and I am powerless to stop it.

With this change comes a whole new lifestyle and that does excite me. It excites me because I think I'll be able to reconnect with a part of me that I always loved but somehow lost track of. That part, I'm totally on board with.

Randomness? I Don't Think So

2010-04-13T19:49:00.002-04:00

Life is full of randomness? Random happenings, random actions, random thoughts....no, I don't think so. Every thought is generated by something. A visual, a memory, an action of someone, a word spoken out loud. There are no random acts, no random thoughts...everything is a result of some sort of chain of events, no matter how small. Nothing is ever random.

Time

2009-09-18T21:30:00.000-04:00

Today's Blog post is courtesy of Beverly Rollwagen....I hope you enjoy her as much as I do.
xoxo

She just wants to locate herself in time and space. Everything rushes past: childhood, beauty, even pain. There must be a place to rest, to take a deep breath and absorb what's gone before. She watches the face of the clock for a clue; she studies the map of her life. She notices how she's been all over, and never too long in one place. She can't decide if this is a problem or a gift. She points to a dot on the map and decides to settle there. She wants to believe that there is still time for a mailbox with her name and address in block letters. Still time to go home.

Is it Ever Enough?

2009-09-09T20:36:00.001-04:00

How much love is enough? Do you ever wonder about that? Do you ever wonder how much love will be enough for your mind and your soul to be satiated? I do. I wonder if it's a quantity question or a quality question. Maybe it's the combination of both. If you love someone enough, doesn't that mean the quality of your love will also change? I wonder.

In my mind loving someone enough, or to the point they fill your soul up with a radiance and joy that leaves you wanting them more and wanting to give to them all that you can and all that they ask...that is the quality and quantity of love I want in my life. It's also the same kind of love I would give in return. It's the kind of love I would WANT to give

In order for a person to give that level or quality of love I think it has to be reciprocated or your soul will shrink and your heart will gradually guard it's fragility to it's best. Most often failing at protecting itself but none the less, it will attempt to protect itself. Love is the most wonderful as well as the most painful thing any person can know.

Life seems so impossible sometimes and still it's filled with incredible possibilities at every turn of the corner.

Find Your Way Back

2009-08-26T18:45:00.000-04:00

I finally connected via telephone with an old high school friend. No, she's not old...well, we are a lot older than we were. 25 years older. She has tickets to the Bucaneers vs Miami preseason game tomorrow here in Tampa. It's all inclusive, club seats, parking and....wait for it....oh yeah, you know it baby. A TAILGATE PARTY!!!! LOL

I am very excited about seeing Felicia again. Yeah, and about getting a good buzz on too. LOL It's a win win in my book. Glad Marc is driving...lol. Face Book aka Crack Book is how we found out we both live 650 miles away from where we went to school. Yes, she lives in the same town I currently live in and has been here as long as we have less than 5 miles away and we didn't even know it. Ka. Ray. Zee!! It turns out, there are a few of who live here in this town. I have never run into any of them. To my knowledge any way. Maybe we have and I didn't recognise them? It's possible.

Felicia and I were talking about how on FB we see an old HS friend and we want to add them, then it hits you. Dang, wonder if they like me? What if I was mean to them in HS? What if I tried to hook up with a boy friend and didn't know they were dating another girl? What if I broke that guys heart because I was a16/17 year old who was reckless with his feelings? What if I got someone busted for a party they were having because I told my parents the truth about where I was going and what I would be doing, not knowing the other parents had no clue a party was happening? Yes, I did that. Talk about humiliating. All those things go through your head. My head any way. Maybe I over think things?

Face Book has put a lot of us back in touch with each other. A few I have added as friends and haven't actually spoken to because I'm not sure they even remember me but accepted my request out of...I don't know, because I am a mutual friend with 32 other of their friends? LOL yes, I over think things. I know. I dig FB though. I do.

When I was talking to Felicia today she said something out loud that I have thought but hadn't voiced. She said," I like it better than having to pick up the phone and talk most of the time." I am paraphrasing of course but her point was life is so hectic and on her side of the screen there is noise, confusion, dinner timers beeping, children yelling, dogs barking...etc etc. But inside of here, it's peaceful and quiet and she can talk. I get that. I really do. I am so excited about seeing her tomorrow. She is a part of my history and maybe now, we'll be a part of each others future too. It's really Kewl.

I probably have a lot more to talk about but I'll save it for later. Thanks for popping in and taking to time to read my mental gibberish.
xoxo

Brought to You by the Letters "W", "T" and "F"

2009-08-25T15:02:00.013-04:00

Ever just had one of those days and you wonder WTF?!?

it's gotta be here some where...right?

Play Me

2009-08-22T13:25:00.008-04:00

This morning I walked out on the patio as the sun was rising.

I could smell the fresh brewed coffee coming from inside. The rabbits were out on the lawn, the ducks were furiously pecking the grass for food and the Ibis' were nodding through the grass seeking out the most delicious morsels they could find. Even the girls and Brisco were awake for this early morning delight. The sunrise was nothing short of glorious. I am not exaggerating, even slightly. In my head I could hear the Beatles singing "Here Comes The Sun". Glorious. Glorious. I stood there feeling the coolness of the morning air flutter across my skin. I closed my eyes to face the sun. With my eyes closed I was envisioning what a beautiful day was in store. Can you close your eyes and imagine it?

I came back inside and there was a fresh cup of coffee waiting for me. The day was getting better moment by moment. Turned on my playlist and Michael Buble was singing to me. Made me need to hear Nina Simone's version. She was crying out to me "Play Me".... Paused my playlist to hear Nina. I don't know where all of these emotions are coming from but they are making me feel like I am bursting from the inside out. Nina Simone's version of "Feeling Good" It's so beautiful. It's so rich and thick with emotion. It moves my very soul.

After a few plays of Nina I hit play again on my playlist.... it's uncanny how music effects so many of us. My playlist sounded like a laundry list of memories waiting to trample what started out as a beautiful day. Then....Unwritten by Natasha Beddenfield came on (right after Dido) and I had to laugh.... the words. They struck home. I love this song. "....Live your life with arms wide open....Today is where your book begins. The rest is still unwritten......."

The sun is gone and the storm is blowing with ferocity outside. I think I'll go outside now and feel the rain on my skin. What a glorious day.

A Change Will Do You Good?

2009-08-21T10:53:00.005-04:00

The morning came earlier than I wanted it to. I still pulled myself up out of bed, donned my robe and made my way to the keyboard. Do not pass go, do not collect your morning coffee.

The girls and Brisco were still sleeping soundly in their bed. All three of them lying next to each other. It warms my heart. Almost the way I am sure a mother's heart is warmed when she peeks in on her sleeping children before the sun is fully up in the sky. The girls' ages are really showing. They used to wake me at 6 am ready to go outside and get their morning constitution done with. After their potty break, they would roam the yard for whatever new and exciting scents the night creatures had left behind.

Now, in their old age they barely step out the door, hurry with their mission and turn right back around to come inside so they can return to their beds. They stirred around 9 this morning. Hurried through the patio to the grass then spun back around to find the warmth of the bed in the kitchen. Hunger hasn't even bothered to disturb their morning dreams. I love my girls. I will be crushed when it's time to say goodbye to them. We always say we don't have it in us, but we do. As heartbreaking as it is. As much as we wish it would never happen, we survive it. It took me months to recover from losing Jake. I still miss her. Sometimes I still think I can feel her curl up with me at night. She's been gone three years now.

I realise life is about change. Most often, I find change exhilarating (I hear Cheryl Crow belting out "A change will do you good..."). Other times, when I think of the ending that comes with it, I want to weep.

Listen to Shaw

2009-08-20T18:48:00.003-04:00

Been pondering life a LOT lately. More than usual.

I have always kept a journal. Wrote in it(them- one journal became stacks) every day. For years. What a great release. Sometimes I stumble across the box I keep them in. It's impossible to not reach in and pull one out. When I look back into my life sometimes I smile, sometimes I feel sad from the memory, sometimes I can even feel myself blush. LOL I blush because I can not believe how stupid some of my entries are. Regardless of the emotion they bring forward in me, I still cherish the memories.

Blogging helped me do the same thing my journals do. Release whats pent up in my head. Good or bad. I started this as a way to keep everyone up on Marc's triathlons. It became something more than that. So much more. I have met incredible people through this blog. I'm so grateful for this place I come to. I have stayed away for too long again. It's time for me to return. It's time for me to create again.

Shaw wrote - "Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself." What do you do if you liked who you were and don't recognise who you have become? Do you recreate yourself again or do you try to find your way back to who you were? Can you ever find your way back to who you used to be? Maybe you can create a newer version but I don't think you can ever be who you were- ever again. Changes create shifts in everything. Your way of thinking, your way of observing, how you interact with others, it changes your perspective. Shaw was right, you will never find yourself, you are faced with staying the same or creating a new, better, more improved you. You have to, or you'll never know how to be happy. At least that is my perspective on the subject.

Rose Tinted Words

2009-03-26T14:43:00.005-04:00

Wow, it's really dusty in here. I have been gone a long time and didn't realise just how quickly the cobwebs can fill all the empty spaces.

My blog has always been a place for me to let my thoughts wander and meander around this crazy life I have. The one certain thing is I always tried to keep a positive spin on whatever I would post. Sometimes I didn't always accomplish that task but those times were always few and far between.

Again... Wow! October...my last post. I can't even begin to tell you how many posts I have written in my mind only to take the big pink eraser and wipe it all clean from my brain. I just couldn't seem to find my positive spin. You know, those Rose Tinted Words that make life a nice place to hang out. Well, in my world any ways. I like Rose tinted words. I like thinking that no matter how bad today is, if I can make it through today, I can make it through anything. Therein lies the root of my dilemma..I have said the words and I know they are true I just don't know that I believe them any more. Oxymoronic (word?? lol) as that sounds that is how I feel.

Yes, times are hard everywhere. Great, does that make me feel any better about my situation? No. Not even in the slightest.

My girlfriend Suzi insists that I am the strongest person she knows. She reminds me every time we talk that my spirit is unbreakable and that my ability to see life through my rose colored glasses still lives in my soul. She tells me each time that I am like a Phoenix that always manages to rise from the ashes of the flames. I want to believe what she tells me. She isn't the sort of friend who would tell me pretty little lies with rose tinted words just to boost my self esteem. No, that's not Suzi. She would never do that because she is my friend. She only deals in honesty. Like me. Knowing this about her makes me stop and listen when she talks with me. Lately though, the words just aren't sounding in my heart. Lately, I just want to shut the door and crawl back under the covers. I just want the flames to consume me without any expectation that I rise again.

Peace

2008-10-14T10:21:00.002-04:00

Things always seem to be crazy don't they? Does anyone ever really have any down times these days? We wish for it and we say we want it but our actions always seem to tell a different story. You know what I mean. You are enjoying a wonderful quiet evening at home. You haven't had one in months. It is a luxury that seems too precious to let pass. Then, the phone rings. You tell yourself not to answer it. To just sit where you are in your solace and relax without any of the outside world interrupting. Instead, you look at the caller ID. Crap. You know that if it weren't important, this person wouldn't be calling to begin with....what do you do?

Once Again - Anonymous

2008-09-18T10:55:00.003-04:00

We here in the Land Of Blog all know about the cowardly types who post negative and/or foul messages on ours or our friends' blog posts. Well, the world of cowards is not limited to your posts or mine. Here is a band of Liberal Cowards who think that breaking the LAW is acceptable and they believe because they remain "Anonymous" they are untouchable.
I DESPISE cowards. Regardless of their political affiliation. Conservative or Liberal. Hold your head up if you are willing to shred another person either personally or politically. Anonymous people are despicable wastes of good oxygen.
I read this post this morning and I am sharing it with you- NOT as a political statement but rather as a statement to just how low some people are willing to go to try and "win". Win with honor for crying out loud. Otherwise, take your sniveling, "I am a victim" attitude and slink back into the sewage you crawled out of.

EDIT: I am adding this little addition to my original post because I did not expound enough on why I posted this article.
Running for public office does not mean that you are no longer protected by this countries laws. This piece of crap group is NOT entitled to violate ANYONE's personal rights as an AMERICAN CITIZEN. IT IS NOT OKAY. Without exception. Hands down, no way, no how, not today, not tomorrow and not yesterday. NEVER. This doesNOT fall under the mistaken idea that being a public figure exempts you from a private, personal life. In additon, there are many, many times that government officials HAVE to communicate outside of their "govt network" because of the restrictions and requirements used for the internet highway the govt provides. This issue is NOT about what was exchanged between Palin or anyone else. It is about the violation of her "certain inalienable" RIGHTS. SHE IS AN AMERICAN CITIZEN!!!!! Now, lets pretend just for a moment, that you are the subject of this disgusting display of cowardice. Lets pretend that someone hacked into your life. They stole everything they could get their hands on and broadcast it to the entire world. I'll pretend that it's okay...

Left Wing Group Hacks Palin's Email
By Caleb HoweSep 17th 2008 3:30PM

Filed Under:eBreaking News, 2008 President, Scandal, Media, Sarah Palin

The ill-defined protest "group" known as Anonymous, famous both for their campaign against Scientology and their strange protest activities, has hacked Gov. Sarah Palin's private email account and posted some of the contents online.

Internet "griefing" is a key component of the activities of Anonymous, and this is no exception. The full text of two private emails, as well as the screenshot of Palin's inbox and some of her family photos were added to the site wikileaks. The purported reasoning is that they are blowing the whistle on Palin using private email addresses for public business. However, as pointed out at Network World, the two example emails do not support the assertion, as they involve political material not permissible for use with a government email address.

Anonymous may be unaware, but elected officials not only may use private email addresses to correspond with other public officials, they actually must if it is material deemed not appropriate. For example, if Nancy Pelosi wanted to send the latest Michael Moore video to Howard Dean, she'd have to use her yahoo email address to do it, not her house email. So a bunch of addresses of people like Arnold Schwarzenegger showing on the list is evidence of nil.
The face of the controversy could change as the contents of the remainder of the emails are parsed ad nauseum by the online left, as you know they will. The current takeaway is clear: as the last two weeks have shown, the online left and their traditional media enablers will stop at nothing, not even the law, in their bloodthirsty quest to tear Gov. Sarah Palin limb from limb. It will be instructive to see who, if anyone, can be bothered to condemn this hack job.

UPDATE: The McCain campaign has issued a statement: "This is a shocking invasion of the Governor's privacy and a violation of law. The matter has been turned over to the appropriate authorities and we hope that anyone in possession of these emails will destroy them. We will have no further comment."

It is amusing to see, this week, a half-hearted attempt by the DNC and media outlets to paint to the McCain campaign as playing dirty. Obama's religiously devoted followers, including on blogs and in the press, have been doing his dirty work for months, and much dirtier than the McCain campaign could ever hope to stoop to. It's a neat trick to try and avoid getting Obama's hands dirty, and I recall a lot of people earlier this year whining that surrogates were doing McCain's dirty work for him. Yet the most significant Democrat blog online openly admits to doing so on behalf of Obama.

The number of lines willing to be crossed in the Palin witch-hunt the last few weeks continues to grow. From spreading rumors about her children to questioning her as a mother ... hacking her private email account and posting her private family photos online fits in perfectly. I have no doubt we'll soon hear a defense of the importance of this illegal activity to the political process. Steal personal email, don't steal press release prayers. Claim Palin's children are fair game because they are with in her public now and then, claim Michelle Obama is not fair game despite being a speech-making, event-hosting part of the campaign.

Anonymous may be anonymous, but their tactics are as plain as day. It's Obama Supporter 101. Do as he wants, not as he pretends not to do. Anonymous broke the law, but they kept the spirit of the left perfectly intact.

Update: Tonight, Unusable Signal is live on the air at 11pm. Unusable Signal is the number one progressive/liberal talk show at blogtalkradio, and I cohost on Fridays and Saturdays. Tonight it will be hosted by Tom Fitzsimmons and AOL's Tommy Christopher. I'll be calling in and taking questions as well. I'm persuadable on the definition of Anonymous as left wing.

If you are not as furious as I am about how this person's Rights as an American Citizen have been violated, maybe we as a country should be re-examining why we even BOTHER to elect our officials. From now on, let's just draw straws because after all, if you don't care about the flagrant violation of a fellow citizen's rights, why bother.

Open Up My Head and Let me Out

2008-09-15T20:08:00.002-04:00

I am sure someone out there knows what I am talking about. I am pooped. Exhausted. Slam Tired. When does it end?

This year has been a crazy year for me. Not a bad year, just tons going on. The bad...well, it could be worse and it's not. The good has far outweighed any bad. I just feel as though I haven't had any real down time. Time to sit in quietude and let my thoughts gather a little dust. You know the dust. That dust that I am supposed to be wiping off of the TV and it's cabinet. The dust that covers the bathtubs in both guest rooms. The dust that accumulates everywhere you tend to look. When the hell does dust show up any way? Who opened the door and invited it in? Wasn't me. Hell no, I would have slammed the door square in it's face, no hesitation, no remorse. Unless of course it wanted to find refuge in my brain for 10 days...

I have filled my brain with quite a number of literary works this past year. Branched out with a couple of new authors. Totally dig it when I find a new author that I like. Call me a bit of a snob about reading a good yarn. When reading a story, I like a nice tight, cohesive story. No "whoops" allowed. I mean, come on, don't try to slip crap in the story that you(the author) have already discredited in a previous chapter. What the hell? Am I stoopid too? Tired and stoopid, that's me. Yes, I know stupid is spelled incorrectly, just trying to drive home a point.

Okay - I'm done D.U.N. done. No more moaning. Good books, love them I can usually devour 2 or 3 a week. Anyone have some interesting fodder for the brain to recommend? I am currently not reading any self help or DIY books. Hold those recommendations for later times. Historical reference style books, also off the list. Give me witty, cleverly written, "this has absolutely no societal connotations whatsoever". Show me some good dark mystery or sci-fi or scary stuff or mind benders. I have read everything out there by S.King, D. Koontz, A.Rice, N.Demille, T.Clancy, Grisham, Chrichton, and many others. Show me someone new who has the ability to spin a good yarn.

This photo has absolutely NOTHING to do with my post - It's just a freakin' awesome shot. Go here to see more of Todd Gustafson's work.

Particpate or Observe?

2008-09-11T17:02:00.003-04:00

Which are you? Do you participate in life or do you tend to observe life? I have always considered myself the type who participates. I don't do well sitting on the sidelines and observing. Lately though, I am not so sure I can say I am participating. In anything. I am not having a pity party or sitting around feeling sorry for myself. Not at all. I just don't have the push or the drive to do anything that involves having to interact.

Most of you know, there have been a lot of changes here at The House of Bigun. My company has closed. I have found a job with another Design Firm. It's a good company with a good reputation and it's weathering the economic slump. I work with great people and the owner is a jewel. Truly. So, what's my problem?

Bigun is pushing to get his Installation Co. up and running. He is so far past wanting to do lawn care now. Who can blame him? Not me.

I have been hanging out in facebook a lot lately. Playing a game, Space Raiders. Actually, it's more than just a game. It's a habit forming addiction. I can't help it. Me. The non - video/computer game player. It's not even as though it has any virtual reality to it. When Bigun first "recruited" me, I thought it was utterly stupid. So stupid in fact I was slightly insulted that he thought I would be even remotely interested in it. Humpff! I guess the joke is on me. I can't pull myself away from it. Well, it is waning a little. The developers of SR have now come out with a bolder, fresher game called Clan Wars. It's cool. Just not the same.

So, I am making my way back to being a participator, I am. I don't make a very good observer. Where's my kayak......?

BTW -Which are you?

I saw this on a friend's blog - OMG!!!! LOVE her!!

Here We Are

2008-07-11T02:11:00.002-04:00

I know, it's almost a month since my last post. A full month since we left for Ironman CdA. So much happened. Most of you know because you were there. Maybe that is why I have had such a hard time putting this post together.
I am thinking most of you are familiar with the term F*^#!d up. Yep, that's me. Totally.I have been out with the girls tonight and just getting home. Yep. Gotta say, I had a GREAT time!!! Really. Fun. Can't type, but I still had a freakin' blast. We went to a country bar. They all line dance. Okay, not so fun because i didn't really know all of the dances. The ones I did though, totally rocked. Can you say country rocked? Just asking.
I am now a member of Facebook. Are you? Bigun blackmailed me into it. He did. He said that if i didn't set up my own page he was going to do it for me. Didn't fly. he sucks. So, now i am a facebook member. Honestly, I don't really like it. I like the word games. i do. But, the rest of it, just not me. It's so... i don't know the words, but just SO. In your face. IE: facebook. I guess.
IMCdA was awesome. I know, awesome is an overly used word but honestly, I can not think of a better adjective.
A majority of our creepy Internet friends seemed to find their way to one central location. How weird is that?!?!? It is weird in the most Supercalifragilisticexpialidociousway!!! LOVED IT!!!!
People who I didn't think really "got me" got me. Live and in person, well, I am a little different. Not much, but a little. Gratefully, like I said, everyone was supercalifragilistic. I noticed the subtle differences between the bloggy peeps and the real life peep but it was so subtle, you "got it". Really, you did. I discovered that the people who I have grown to know and love through the Land Of Blog, I know and love in real life. I couldn't help it and I couldn't hug anyone tight enough. I am still finding myself wanting to squeeze everyone till they pop. I can't help it. Call me a weirdo. I had a small glimpse of this last year when we went to Chicago and we got to meet J-Wimm and Big Mike. I truly thought it was an isolated thing. I did not believe it could happen again, times 40. But. It.Did. And now, here i am trying to find the words and they simply do not exist in this continuum. They don't. I wanted to post a ton of pictures, and I will. The ones that really captured not only the athletes but my heart and my soul. The heart and soul that made Ironman CdA all that it truly was.
I'll do it soon, just give me a few days.
I love you guys.
XOXOXO
Di

All Packed and Ready to Go

2008-06-16T07:17:00.005-04:00

Shuh.

It's Monday, the 16th of June. Bigun and me will be hopping a plane in 20 hours. Sounds like a long way off doesn't it? NOT. I have to sleep somewhere in those 20 hours, do a little more laundry in that time frame, pick up and deliver 2 chairs for a client, tie up loose ends with the studio, Oh! yes, and still pack.

Personally I am not planning out my outfits like other girls, uh sorry I mean guys - Bigun. I just know I need a lot of crap that has to go into one bag. A single, lonely bag. How is that going to happen. Crap. 10 days worth of clothes in one bag? Reality check please...

I bought these bags last year so that I could easily find my bags at the luggage rounder

I am pretty certain I'll need two of them. I bought the whole set though so it shouldn't be a problem. I'll give Bigun the biggest one, he's going to need it for all of his tops and such.

Bigun is going to need a camel for all of his crap.

So, I better quit blogging and get my fanny in gear so that I can get the list completed in less than 20, wait, make that 18 hours...need to be at the airport 2 hours early. Who's brilliant idea was that!!??!!

See you guys soon, can't wait!

If You ordered a shirt, please read this

2008-06-14T10:21:00.003-04:00

Okay, shoot me later, after the IronMan okay?

Here is what I have
These are folks who will not be at CdA I am mailing out your T's today

BigMike -white 2X non sherpa
Duane -2 one white, one black
IronTriTim - one white med
Dan -one white
GEl - one white

Folks who will be there - I will have them with me at the Athlete's thingy on Thursday and hand them out. I am mailing them all from here to CdA today so that I won't miss anyone who leaves in the next day or two.

Wedgie - med non sherpa blk (I ordered white but your's and Iron Eric's came in black)
IronEric -2 med non sherpa in white (sorry they sent all 3 whites in black)
Fe-Lady -blk xxl sherpa
Mrs Greyhound- 1med child white non sherpa & 1L white non sherpa
Momo-2Med white sherpa
Tea - 3 shirts all blk sherpas a 2X, an XL a L
IronJenny- 1 sm blk sherpa
Blink - 1med blk sherpa 2 sm blk sherpa
SWTGirl - 1sm blk non sherpa and 1 med blk sherpa

What's in Your UBK?

2008-06-08T12:04:00.000-04:00

As if I didn't have enough to do. You know, Blog (which in all honesty I haven't been doing much of lately), email, close up my business, look for a new job, try to catch everyone up on these major life changes (my friends all want to know everything that is new with me. ie:friend)try to keep some semblance of a neat home (Not happening right now), empty the contents of my studio, find someone to rent the space so I don't get sued by the owner, list crap on eBay, attend Tri's still try to have a normal life AND Bigun wants me to list myself on Facebook. I told him I didn't want to. I am honestly too busy for it. I check in on his occasionally to catch up on everyone. So, I told him "No Thanks". He said, "Okay, I'll put you on there." So, I figured I better jump on it before he could. Bastard. So, I'm on Facebook now. No promises on constant communication. No promises on all of the good Karma stuff, or sending mixed cocktails. But, I am there. So there you have it Bigun. Now, go send out your good karma stuff.

On another front,

There I was, standing in line at the the local Chinese Restaurant. My friend, lets call her DAWN, is busy chatting about things. Life, the weather, what she's going to eat...I'm drifting. Listening to all of the other conversations going on around me and yet still being attentive and fully aware of Dawn. She was telling me about her son, her future trip to Egypt this summer, life in general. Finally, it's my turn to order lunch. I finish ordering and walk over to the chairs at the front of the restaurant and wait for my "to go" order. As I am walking to the chairs by the door i overhear a fellow talking with two others. he says..."No, really, it's totally an American dish. If you go to China and order it, they won't know what you are talking about." I laugh to myself and i think, he is talking about Egg Foo Young. Dawn joins me a moment later. I turn to her and say "Guess what?" you know what her reply is..."What?"

So, I point at the fellow I overheard talking and said "He has a UBK too!!" Dawn starts laughing and asks me how is it that I know he too has a UBK. Before I continue on let me explain what a UBK is for those of you who haven't heard me use this term before. The UBK stands for a Useless Bank of Knowledge. Mine, it's full of all sorts of things. For example, the Egg Foo Young thing. BTW, DAWN is the same girl who barely escaped death at the hands of a serial killer rapist. Actually, she barely escaped death by TriSherpa Di to be more accurate. That is another story though. Getting back to the UBK...

DAWN and I have been friends for about 6 years. She always laughs at me and my little bits of trivia. I am a trivia junkie. It comes naturally. I don't work at remembering little tidbits of information. I read it somewhere, or I hear it and it just sticks. You know how some people remember Historical Dates or every one's birthdays or sports stats. I remember minutia. Stuff that the average person doesn't really care about knowing but find it somewhat interesting none the less.

Allow me to give you an example.... not only is EggFooYung an American dish, so is General Tso's chicken and Chop Suey. True. Sorry. They came about when the Chinese who immigrated to the US started creating dishes using the local fare. Hence, if you go to China, don't expect to see these dishes offered on the menu.

What is a Bobeche? It's that curved round glass(or metal) disc with a hole in the center that fits over a candle to catch the wax drippings.

Did you know that baby venomous snakes are far more deadly than adults? It is true. Want to know why? Because an adult strikes and removes it's fangs after one injection of venom. It may strike again, but that's something different. Baby snakes strike and their fangs are so small often times they cannot remove them from the victim. This means they continuously inject venom, over and over again. When that happens, it usually means, D.E.D. Dead.

The Osprey is a bird of prey that plunges into the water to capture fish. Ospreys are large birds, black-brown on top and white below. Sometimes people confuse them with Bald Eagles. Ospreys feed primarily on fresh panfish. They search for fish while flying 30-100 feet above the water. If they spot prey, they hover, then plummet down, plunging into the water feet first. Strong, curved talons and specialized spines on the bottoms of their feet help them hold onto the slippery fish. If they catch the fish, they quickly take off, juggling it in their feet until its head is facing forward into the wind. Then they fly to a perch to eat it. Ospreys can’t swim and have been known to drown, especially if they get their talons stuck in too large a fish and can’t take off. They can't take off because their talons "lock" into the fish and they cannot remove the locking talons to free themselves. The spiked talons either get ripped out or the bird drowns.

Hey Jude -When John Lennon left his wife, Cynthia, for Yoko in 1968 Paul McCartney didn't let that stop him from visiting Cynthia and Lennon's son Julian. Paul has maintained a great friendship throughout his life with Cynthia and her son Julian. One morning as he was driving out to see Cynthia and Julian, Paul began humming a tune and singing "Hey Julian..." Later the song became Hey Jules and eventually turned into Hey Jude. The song has always been about and for Julian Lennon.

Trivia aside, I also know the lyrics to more songs than I can remember. I know, sounds like an oxymoron. Truth is, I hear songs that I haven't heard in years. In fact I have forgotten the songs even existed. They come on the radio and I can remember the lyrics, from 10, 15, sometimes 20 years ago. That show with Wayne Brady -Don't Forget The Lyrics, well, I could rock it.
I remember stuff. I can't remember what I ate for breakfast, or what might have been said to me 5 minutes ago, but I remember Stuff. Hence, my brain being coined the UBK.
What's in your UBK?

I Want Truffles

2008-06-04T15:23:00.009-04:00

"Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get." Where did I hear that? Right. Well, Forest's Mom was right. And let me tell you, right now, I must have the cheapest, crappiest box of chocolates out there because they pretty much suck. I am over it. I am pitching out the rest of this crappy chocolate and I am headed straight for the truffle counter! Give me dark chocolate filled with raspberries. Give me creamy chocolate with a dark fudge center and while you are at it, roll that son of a bitch in some bitter sweet chocolate powder. 'Cause that's how I play it. I want to choose what I'm going to get, I am tired of it being handed over to me with out any say so on my part. Dammit. Life, you can keep the crappy stuff, give me the good stuff. And that's all I got to say 'bout that.

Okay, so maybe I have a little more to say. Can you say cathartic? I am already feeling that way and I am just getting started. My posts have been few and far between lately. My plates have been full and instead of saying enough, I have just been taking it. So, it's time for a change.

Sure, there are some things in this life you are powerless to do anything about. My dad and his many health issues. His insistence that he knows better than his Doc who diagnosed him with Diabetes. Hello, you have diabetes, you take your medication. Am I right? Well, I can't do anything about the choices my Dad is making but life insists that I still have to deal with the consequences. He just came out of spinal surgery May 20th. I was there, in NC ,for his surgery. I stayed for a week. Discovered that he has not been taking his medication for almost a year. His going blind has no correlation to his diabetes and it going untreated. No, of course not. His relentless pain cannot be solved by physical therapy, just ask him, he'll tell you. His poor circulation and bad ticker don't benefit from exercise. Again, ask him, he'll give you, me and anyone who'll listen an earful. I am tired. The love I have for my Dad is true and it's deep, but he doesn't hear anything I have to say. I am helpless to help him. I am too tired now to keep trying.

The day after I got home from North Carolina I learned that a friend of ours had died. He left 3 young boys and a loving, adoring wife behind. Yes, he left them. He was a good man, someone I admired and respected. Tom suffered from incredible pain left over from a Pro Football career. To help with the pain he took pain killers. They just never seemed to help him though. Each and every day for him wasn't about whether or not he would be in pain but rather it was about what degree of pain could he manage. Most days, the pain won out and he succumbed. Finally, in the end, he has found relief. We attended his funeral last Friday.

The day before the funeral my business partner and I agreed to a divorce. My company is closing. All of the hard work I put into building it is gone. It's done. Over. The doors will close permanently at the end of this month. In the mean time I am watching everything go out the door to be pedaled away for pennies on the dollar. I am heartbroken. I am lost. I am sad. I am tired.

There are a couple of options open to me. I know there are. One seems really great, but it is still not an absolute. One possibility may take me out to Momo's neighborhood...still, nothing solid. Things in my life are headed for definite change. HUGE change. Hope I can make my car payment in the mean time.

So, as for the frigging box of chocolates, I am done with it. My stance is like I said earlier, front and center at the truffle line, choosing what comes next. Maybe I'll have some lovely choclates filled with rum...

EDIT: BTW - I AM an ENTJ!!! Dammit.

I Think Too Much

2008-05-31T10:27:00.004-04:00

When does good sense stop being good sense and become wishful thinking? How do you decide when to ignore your intuition and move forward with what seems to be the facts? BTW, the facts contradict your gut feeling. Are you really as savvy with the ways of the world as you thought - or are you just wishing on a pipe dream? The world around you and everyone in it, are telling you the very opposite of what you believe. What you believe, with every fiber of your being. So there you are. Back where you started. Your gut feeling, fact or fiction? Are my rose colored glasses getting in the way of the stark non -technicolour of real life?

Who knew this was me?

Cocktail of the Hour

2008-05-17T15:43:00.010-04:00

Some of you out there may already know about this. For those of you who don't....

Mix this

with this

Here is how it's done, sip a little off the top of the Corona so that the neck is clear of beer. Then, tip the Bacardi O and pour it in to top off the Corona. Place thumb tightly over opening, turn upside down to mix. Place upright, slowly remove thumb. Enjoy. Yumma yumma.

If you don't think you'd like the fresh taste of orange try this instead....

Mix one of these

With This. Same directions as used for the Bacardi O just substitute Absolut Citron. Both drinks are light and refreshing. For less calories, substitute with Corona Light.

This is a great Sherpa beverage. Minimal ingredients and no manual mixing. Use it for your own enjoyment but please share with your athlete post race.

You Decided

2008-05-01T13:00:00.010-04:00

Sorry about torturing you with a vote. The Shirt company will do black or white for your shirts, we have reached a quantity that will allow a combo of the two colors!!! YAY!!

here are the samples for the shirts.

Here is who I have so far for shirts-----------

Tea - total of 3 Sherpa black
Blink -total of 3 Sherpa Black
JohnnyTri -total of 4 no sherpa black
Iron Eric -total of 2 no sherpa -waiting for color
Duane -total of 2 sherpa -black
GEL -total of 1 no sherpa white
IronJenny -total of 1 sherpa black
SWTriGirl -total of 2 one sherpa one no sherpa
BigMike -total of 1 no sherpa white
Dan Seifring - total of 1 sherpa white
IronTriTim -total 1 sherpa white

I know that there are others who wish to order- please email me at Art2Di4@aol.com with your qty, size and color. The shirts are $21 each (we didn't reach the next discount level) plus $5.00 for shipping. The $5.00 Shipping will cover up to 4 shirts. I will send you an email with my mailing address. I believe we have a paypal account too, I have to check, only thing is, with paypal there may be addl. fees. These shirts are quoted at rock bottom cost. Honest to goodness.

Thanks for everyone's support!! I love you guys!!!
Di

My Week

2008-04-26T04:48:00.003-04:00

I was reading Geek Girl's post. It was a great breakdown of her week. I read it and thought, wow, she had a week of weeks I think. Mine, pretty boring. Really boring. Then, I realized, maybe it wasn't so boring.
Monday was a good start for the week. My company is growing. This means I need a Consultant. I need someone who has already grown a couple of businesses to help me out. So, my partner and me met with this guy who believes he can help us. It's not the growing that worries me. It's the bleeding of profits. I want to be sure that the growth isn't hurting our ability to grow financially.
Monday night, I went to Yoga. Yes, yoga. Again. I loved the class. Loved the workout. (is yoga considered a workout?) I don't know if all Yogi's do this or not, but ours has you lie down and relax at the end of class. Breathe and purge sort of thing. She turns the lights out, lights a candle or two and starts telling you to clear your mind, breathe, fall into nothing. You get the picture right? I actually hear a couple of short snores. Yes. One or two folks were really listening to her, or not, based on your perception. Me, well I tried. I did. I couldn't get comfortable. Something about lying on the hard floor (yoga mat did not help so much) trying to relax. I kept tossing and turning. Just trying to find a comfortable position. Then, when the snoring started, I felt the giggles coming on. Not to mention, I was still giggling over the little fart that slipped out when I did the splits on the floor. Come on, farts are funny. Even in yoga class. I Could not clear my mind. The whole place was dark and sort of quiet. Except for the snoring, the yogi talking softly, a few other heavy breathers and me. Giggling. Quietly. Trying not to. That made it even funnier. I am not sure I am going to be allowed back in to yoga.
On Tuesday I fought off a serial killer, rapist. Single handedly. With a knife. He had a gun. This is how it unfolded...
Tuesday we had our weekly meeting at work. Had a contractor come in and give us information on his business and talk about our building a professional partnership with him. Only one problem. One of my colleagues didn't show up. She didn't call, she wasn't answering her home or cell phone either. She would have called if she were able. That's her. That's what she does. My colleague is also one of my dear friends, lets call her DAWN. At about 1:30pm I finally track down DAWN'S sister. It took me about 30 minutes to find her. I only knew the sister's first name and I only knew she worked for an office supply company. So, I start dialing the yellow pages. A few companies later, I hit the right one. I talk to DAWN's sister (who also happens to live with DAWN). Sis has also been unable to reach DAWN. So, I get in my car and head over to DAWN's house. My other 3 colleagues are all just as worried as I am. They asked me to call upon my arrival and to keep them posted on what's happening.
On the way to her house I begin to think of what might have happened. What if she was in a bad wreck on the way to work. Well, if her car wasn't at home, we'd call the FL HP and see what we could find out. At which point we would also start checking with the hospitals. My thoughts though, lets see first if she is home.
To give you a little background, my friend is newly single. She is back out on the dating scene. I knew she was going out to dinner Monday night with some friends. I thought, what if she met someone. What if in her trusting ways (she trusts everyone) she maybe, just maybe met someone and brought him home. You know, to watch a movie or something. Well, what if Mr.Friendly turned out to be Ted Bundy JR. For crying out loud!! What if Mr. Friendly turned out to have a fond admiration for The Green River Killer. You see where this is going don't you? My fears aren't baseless though. It just happens that years ago a friend of mine, one of my closest dearest friends, was kidnapped, beaten, raped, stabbed, and left for dead in her van as the attacker set her van on fire. The attacker left, my friend didn't die. She survived, barely. You can imagine what was going on in my head at this point.
When I arrive at DAWN's neighborhood, she doesn't answer the call from the gate. I get out of my car and flag down a neighbor who was leaving, briefly explained I have a friend who I am worried about, answered her questions of who and where, she let me in the gate. When I pull into the driveway, there is a strange car parked there. It's about 2pm now. I ring the doorbell, knock loudly, shout, pound. Nothing. Nada. No one. Shit. Shit. Shit. I walk around to the back of the house because I can knock on the door to her bedroom(in FL we all have doors from the master to the outside). I knock and shout. Nothing. No response. DAWN is the kind of person who would come to the window. Even if she was naked. No DAWN. I look down at the patio table and there is a knife. I big knife. Swear, it's true. I couldn't make it up.
From where I am standing I can pretty much see into every room in the house. Except the bedroom, the blinds are all closed tight. As I am looking into the kitchen I notice DAWN's purse is there. I also see many of it's contents laying out on the kitchen Island. WTF? That's not normal. Ladies, how many of us pour our purses out at night? Things are not looking good. I pick up the knife. The knife looks like something DAWN's brother might have sent from Abu Dhabi. It's in it's sheath. Removing it from it's cover I note that it is very sharp and curved and should be easy enough to handle. All three of the back doors are locked . I couldn't get any of them open. I walk back to the front of the house. The mystery car is still in the driveway. From the front door I can see through to the back patio. The house is a very open floor plan with lots of windows. I start to look for a key. As I reach up above the door I step on the door mat and hear a tiny "chink" under the mat. Sounded like metal against cement. I lift the mat. Can you believe this? There is a key. To the front door. Who does that?!?! See what I mean about trusting? DAWN is trusting. Before I enter, I call the studio and tell them what's going on and that I am going into the house.
When I enter the house, my heart starts pounding. The sound is loud in my ears too. The house is quiet and dark except for the light coming in through the windows. I am yelling quite loudly now. No answer. There is DAWN's wallet, open, her driver's license is there, her social security card is out, on the island. Not right. A glass is sitting in the middle of a paper plate on the island. It still has coke in it and a few ice cubes. I am standing in the center of the house here. The answering machine has 11 calls on it. I turn back to the front door, make sure it is unlocked, leave my keys by the door in case I have to run. I didn't want to drop my keys and fumble to pick them up. In my mind, I am actually pretty calm. Oh, BTW, I am wielding the knife. A line from a movie pops into my head - something about bringing a knife to a gun fight. But, that's all I have. I just happened to forget my pistola at home today. Dammit. I turn towards the closed bedroom door.
Seriously worried that I could be out gunned here I actually reach across the door from behind a small wall to open it. Pushing it in as I shield myself behind the little outcrop of drywall. I ease my head around the corner after a 15 or 20 second delay. The bedroom is pitch dark. Instead of placing my body in the door I reach out to flip the light on with the knife. The bed is messed up but no one is in it. No blood. That's a good sign. My brain is very calm. I cross over and go into the bedroom. There is no body on the floor either. I turn to the bathroom. Lights are out. My next thought is I need to check the shower. I turn so that my back is on the wall opposite the bathroom mirror. This way, no one can come up from behind and surprise me. I turn on the lights, again using the knife. I am about to ease my way into the center of the bathroom to look in the shower and I hear a voice. It's sort of muffled. The voice says "I'm in the bathroom". (this means water closet aka toilet). Then the toilet flushes.
Through all of this, DAWN had been sitting on the John with a bad case of diarrhea. Yes. The cha cha chas. So -I stabbed her.
No, I didn't stab her. But, I thought about it. Briefly, for a millisecond. I put the knife back in it's case and keep it close by.
Turns out, DAWN did try to reach me that morning. She was really sick and wasn't going to make it. The message never came through on my phone. Thanks for the great service there VERIZON. The calm left my body and I began to shake, uncontrollably. Then I started to cry. Then I stabbed DAWN. Okay, again, I didn't stab her. In real life. In my mind though...
I had to call the studio and tell them everything was okay and that they could call the state troopers and tell them never mind. Then, I got in the bed and laid there for a bit to let my heart rate come back down. Dawn and I start to laugh. It was a sick, you are crazy, demented laugh. I asked her "Who's car is that in the driveway?" She asks, "what car?" I describe it. Turns out it belongs to her sister's boyfriend. He was in the house the entire time. He never bothered to answer my calling out or my knocks and poundings on the door. I yelled "HELLO" and "DAWN!!!" more times than I can count when I entered the house. We went out to the kitchen, Dawn checks and the coward's car is gone. Without a word.
A few minutes later I realized I was STARVING. Not just hungry, but so hungry I would gnaw off anyone's hand that managed to find it's way between my mouth and my food, hungry. We go for Chinese. After eating my little asian snack, my phone beeps. There's Dawn's message saying she won't be in to work today. It's 4:50pm the message is tagged at 9:24 AM. VERIZON SUCKS!!! Just sayin'.
When I arrive home I tell the story to Bigun. He was none too pleased with me. He was very unhappy with the fact that I entered a home believing there might be a killer inside...he was right. But. What are friends for? We kill killers and bury ex's, right?
Wednesday was uneventful.
Thursday, Betty Lou got some new shoes and an adjustment. Bigun and I went to the beach while BettyLou was getting her makeover.
Friday, Busy day of meetings and appointments. Today should be quiet and tomorrow is St.Anthony's
That was my week. Pretty boring, I know.

Meet My Neighbors

2008-04-20T07:21:00.000-04:00

This one is an odd bird, he kind of hangs out with a different group.

The strong but silent one...mostly

Sneaky bastard. He's the one who creeps through your yard when he thinks no one is looking...you know the type

There he is again, all smiles, like nothing is going on.

You know those neighbors who "see" everything? Yep, we have one too.

The big Teddy Bear

The recluse

The HOA Architectural Committee is headed up by this guy

This is the couple everyone is jealous of, you know, both tall, both thin, ultra sexy. The couple we all love to hate and hate to love.

Our local chatty Cathy - well, in this case, Vern

He always wins the lawn competition.

seems quiet enough, but everyone is always trying to figure out just how he lost his "ear"

The twins do everything together. They dress alike, they always have the same cocktail.

just passing through actually

Every day she walks her kids to the bus stop

Those are my neighbors. If you ever come to Florida we'll go get to know them and we'll enjoy a beer or two courtesy of my other neighbor Anheiser. Just call and book a room at The Bigun B&B. See you soon!

Kayak Support?????

2008-04-16T16:23:00.002-04:00

Have you guys seen this?

Great Clermont

2008-04-07T17:07:00.010-04:00

First of all let me start by saying....lucky we made it to Clermont. Okay, TriDogmom and Momo, I know you both know what I am about to discuss. Pre-pre race night partying. WooHooo. Wow. I know Momo and TriDogmom are both table dancers when they drink...or so it has been assumed. (JUST KIDDING!!!LOL) I didn't do any table dancing pre -pre race night but i did do a little "cage" dancing. Yep. Girls' night out and the scotch was flowing... and flowing... I am 99% sure I had a great time. At least my girlfriends are saying I did! I believe them.

So, needless to say, after getting home at 4 am on the day before the race, I kind of took my time getting ready to head to Clermont the day before the race. I was draggin' ass to say the least. I didn't have what you would traditionally call a hangover, I was just tired. WAAAAAAAYYYYY tired. Finally though, after Bigun had BettyLou all packed up and ready to go I figured i should get my fanny in gear and get packed for our overnight stay in Clermont. Geez Louise. How do you pack for only one day?!?!? I don't know!!! Shouldn't someone, a woman in the know, give classes for that? I packed enough clothes for three days. You know, just in case. Hell, it was supposed to rain on race day. What would I do if I got totally wet while watching the race and then wanted to go somewhere afterwards? AND if we did go somewhere else, what did I want to wear? These are all important points when a woman packs an overnighter. Right? Finally, I get packed, enough for three days, throw the bag in BettyLou and we hit the road.

By the time we get on the road it's pretty obvious we'll roll into Clermont around dinner time. Bigun and I are pretty hungry. Afterall, I was too sleepy to bother eating all day Saturday and Bigun, well, I don't remember why he didn't take a break to eat, I was busy. Sleeping. We call GreenEyedLady and ExcelMan to find out their plan. After much deliberating we decide to all meet at the Italian restaurant we enjoy, Bruno's. It's good eats and it's on the way. It's all good.
Dinner is fun, GEL drinks, and drinks, and drinks and well, you get the picture. Okay, I am exaggerating, I just didn't want you to think I was the only one of the group that liked to drink. So, GEL had two glasses of wine. I stayed with water. After the night before, it was a wise choice, hydration and all that.

Finally we make it to our Hotel. If any of you ever stay over in Clermont, stay at the Fairfield Inn. It was really nice. Bigun and i had a super room!! Fantastical as a matter of fact. Supercalifrag...wait, that's a movie I saw. Never mind that train of thought. So, we're checked in and all comfy and finally decide to crash for the night.
Because we are so close to the race site I don't have to get up at O'Dark:thirty with Bigun. He and ExcelMan head out to the race site sans myself and GEL. Wow, who would have ever thought that sleeping in means getting up at 6:30am? That's what I did though, I slept in until 6:30 race day. UN. BE. LEEEEV. ABLE. Truly. Loved it.

After getting a coffee, checking out the breakfast line, drinking some orange juice, chatting about plastic bottle vs wax carton....we head over to the starting line. Parking for a change was actually pretty easy. Even though we didn't arrive until 5 minutes after the first wave. Whoops. GreenEyedLady and I were having a nice leisurely stroll down to the beach. I notice all the women lined up waiting for their start. So I start yelling, really yelling, "CINDY!!!", "CINDY JO!!!", "ANYONE HERE NAMED CINDY JOVANAVICH?!?!?!?" Everyone is turning and staring but no one is raising their hand. I am yelling to a line of blank faced chicas. Nothin. Finally one girl turns and asks.."What does she look like?" my answer..."I don't know." now, just imagine this, an entire line of women staring at you like you have 2 heads. That's what happened. I almost started to put that second head in my hat. Jeez. So, I proceed to say" She's one of my creepy internet friends." The entire group just about fell on the ground laughing. They wished me luck and then the gun went off and they hit the water. I didn't find Cindy Jo until much, much later.

In the mean time GEL and I wait for our guys to come out of the water. Bigun's wave went off first, 5 minutes later, ExcelMan's wave and 5 minutes after him, the women. So, GEL and I are waiting, and we're cheering. Then we cheer some more and wait some more. After a bit GEL and I look at each other. We don't say anything but we are both beginning to think the same thing..."Where are they?" Then, we see the first woman come out of the water. Our guys, both of them, just got chicked, Majorly, in the water. Still, no Bigun and no ExcelMan. We start to worry. Ofcourse, we had no knowledge of the 2 egg mcmuffins that were scarfed down. Finally, huge sigh of relief, ExcelMan comes out of the water. Phew!!! Thank Goodness. Wait, he took off AFTER Bigun. Crap. Worried again. A couple of mintes go by and then we see Bigun making his way on shore. THANK YOU JESUS!!! We crossed ourselves, said a few Hail Mary's, snapped some pictures and hit the path for the bike ride. It was all good.

This race is always a good race to go to. I like it alot. Fred Sommer and his crew do a really, really nice job. GEL and I settle in our chairs on the bike route and commence to more cheering. This is where I dropped the ball. In my foggy stupor of psuedo hangover the day before, I forgot to pack the booze for the race. No. Bloody. Marys. I know. I. Suck. Moving along...
The guys do great on the bike portion. Their timing was right, we cheered, whistled, clapped, etc. (I don't actually know how to whistle but I always imagine myself whistling). It's cowbell time on the run portion. After staking out a great spot just this side of the finish line we start ringing. It's funny how when we start off with the cowbells there are all sorts of people around us. 5 minutes later, not so many. When we start ringing cowbell, we can clear a spot at the finish line faster than a bad case of IBS. We raucously cheered everyone in over the finish line. It was a lot of fun. Not only did we get to cheer in our guys, we also were able to cheer in first time Triathloner John, our blogger peep Moonpie, and blogger peep Cindy Jo. It was fun. Except for the big emptiness left by the lack of Bloody Mary's it was a great time. Swear.

Sommer Sports always has a pretty good post race spread. This past Sunday was no exception. As a Sherpa however, I don't partake in the post race food. I would hate to have an athlete miss out on a plate of much needed nourishment because of me. As I told Moonpie, sometimes I will pilfer a banana or a bottle of water but otherwise, I don't eat the Athletes' food. Wait, unless there are cookies. I will snag a cookie, or two. On occasion. So, it's lunch time for us. Outback is sounding really good and especially fulfilling in the beer department. An added bonus is that it was Happy Hour. 2 for 1. We could drink all day. Until 7 pm atleast. That's when Happy Hour was over.

Gel, Excelman, Bigun and myself all enjoyed a really good lunch. With beer. Moonpie and Cindy Jo were held up at the race but they joined us later. Because of their time schedule GEL and ExcelMan had to leave but the four of us, Bigun, myself, Moonpie and Cindy Jo enjoyed a few hours at the bar laughing and having a good time. We may have even buzz texted TriRob a little bit. Can't really call it drunk dialing like we did to 21CM at IMFL because we weren't yet drunk and we were texting, not dialing. Poor TriRob...lol we are all still laughing pretty hearty about it.

BTW, did I mention that the West Point Triathlon Team cleaned up at this race? They did. Here's a shot of a few of their team members. These guys will be America's future leaders folks. Sharp. Easy on the eyes too!!

IMCdA '08 shirts for Sherpas or Athletes

2008-04-04T16:56:00.001-04:00

T's are $18 each if we get minimum order of 37 shirts. Please let me know how many you would like to order.
Art2Di4@aol.com or call and leave a voicemail. please send an email so that I will have your email address to confirm order and totals. Thanks so much!
813-990-0951 if you would like to call.

You can delete "Sherpa" if you like.

What I Did Last Weekend

2008-03-22T08:11:00.022-04:00

Last Saturday Bigun and I did a little grocery shopping. You know, stock up on a few staples and pick up a few perishables. Grocery shopping is never an activity that I look forward to doing. I don't hate it, it's one of those automaton type chores for me. In addition, it is inevitable that I forget to pick up the one thing I most wanted. Here's a few of the items we picked up... fresh fruit,

some light refreshment ( I LOVE this stuff)

Bigun needed some Gatorade and also chose some lovely cashews. Cashews don't last long in our home. Costco has a big tub they sell. It lasts about 3 or 4 days.

I walked away from the cart, being minded by Bigun, to grab a few items. When I return I went to place said items into the basket I noticed a couple of new additions to the cart...

But wait...Twizzlers weren't alone. They were accompanied by these -
I was only gone for about 40 seconds. Not even a full minute. All of that Tri-training has atleast paid off for the Bigun in the grocery aisle. He can speed his way through the donut and twizzler section faster than I can turn and grab a gallon of milk!

Bigun had an earache so I told him to rest while I put away groceries. I caught him on camera "resting".

Grocery Shopping is what I did on Saturday. I know, my last post made my weekend seem much more ...involved. Sad to say, most of you will be disappointed. (feel free to click on the pics for a better view) Last Sunday I hung out in my neighbor's (Orlando) backyard. Here's who I met...

I met a Mime at the pool.

A diver named Seymour

A couple of shady characters, I didn't get their names. Probably kin to the ones ExcelMan will be meeting in June during the Escape From Alcatraz Tri.

A surfer chick. She was pretty cool.

A few Acrobats

They were far too busy for me to catch their names.

But, you know how there is always that one, really big, guy who splashes around and jumps around in the pool? You know the one, always manages to soak everyone sitting poolside. He was there too.

I did get his name. He was actually a really likable fellow. His name was Shamu. Great guy.

There you have it. Now you know what I did last weekend. I hung out in the neighbors yard and met quite a few interesting characters. Any time you head this way, let me know. I'll introduce you. I'll fill you in later on what I did Wednesday. Wednesday I stayed home and played in my own backyard. It's pretty WILD.

Guess What I Did This Past Weekend?

2008-03-17T22:36:00.001-04:00

More... coming soon....

The Marctionary aka Bigunary

2008-03-15T08:53:00.012-04:00

Okay, first things first. Bigun and Excel Man (as most of you already know) participated in the "Escape To Alcatraz" in Clermont, Florida last Sunday. I know, my race report is a little slow on the keypad. Sorry.

I'm going off on a tangent for a minute. No excuses, just plain truth. In my industry (Interior Design) you really have to stay on top of the latest styles, trends, colors, etc. This past week I had seminars to attend and work to do. Wah wah right? I'm not complaining, truly, just explaining my tardiness on the Sherpa Report for E 2 A. - Seminar, BTW, Fantastic. It was a great training tool for our company.

Back to the RR for E2A. Race - sucked. Wait, I know what you are wanting to say ..."Sucked? Why is that TriSherpa Di?"...okay, let me explain. It.Was.Friggin.FREEZING!!!! It was colder than The Escape from Alcatraz last June. If I had balls, they would have been frozen off. That's the truth. Guess who that is wrapped up all nice and tight in the blanket... How Bigun and ExcelMan's jewels came through unscathed is beyond me. Back to the cold. I am a true blue Northerner. Raised in the wicked winters of upstate NY. I love the winter. Thing is, cold air, cutting wind and standing still for extended periods of time does not FUN make. I froze my ass off. (no one ever died of wishful thinking right?)

The race was small. It was the smallest race I've ever been to. I was surprised at the small turnout. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe not so surprised. The way Zeibart burned the Bigun, it probably isn't the first time for this sort of behaviour and I am quite certain it won't be the last time. OR...maybe, just maybe...everyone has gotten wise to the fact that Zeibart is only after a quick buck and that $100 entry fee is just Zeibart's way of making you feel thankful you were even allowed to participate in his race. Cause I am here to tell you, the after race fare...well, pretty much non existent except for some donut holes and 2 cakes from the Food Store. Wait, forgot, they had some crappy hotdogs too.

No finisher's medal was anywhere to be seen. The goody bags did have a T-Shirt in them. There you have it. approximately 300 people in the race, F'n freezing temperatures, no real food and a T-Shirt. Jeez, I am sure thankful Bigun was allowed to participate in this race AND get ripped off for an extra 5 bucks.

Yes, I know...you have already read all of this in Bigun's report. Sorry, nothing like beating a dead horse, right? I honestly tried to find something good to write about this race. I couldn't. I know, the weather was not under anyone's control. I'll give that much. Just a freak of Florida Nature. Or was it? Because I am now wondering if ... well, nevermind.

Okay, I can think of some good things to report about this race. Bigun and ExcelMan. They did really well. Keep in mind we are talking about 2 boys who are totally acclimated to the warm weather of Florida. They both raced with truly frigid digits. Sounds silly to even bring it up? Well, I had a difficult time just cheering in the cold. My SherpaSpirit was a little lacking that morning. Usually I cheer for everyone, admittedly, I only cheered for our boys that morning. I know, I suck. Sorry. I heard quite a few of the athletes remarking how they didn't feel their feet until about half way through the run. The water was very choppy and very chilly. Reminiscent of the St.Anthony's water 2 years ago. Talk about scary.

Both guys raced with smiles. They looked strong and they barely broke a sweat through the whole race. I did manage to get some great shots of them on the course.

There you have it. My race report. That isn't really why I am here today. I am here to talk about something I think you are all well aware of now. "The Marctionary". If you have listened to the podcasts of Tac and Bigun...you know what I'm talking about. Don't you? Yep. Thought so. Here in The Land of Blog you probably all know it not as "The Marctionary" but rather as "The Bigunary".

Some people, you may know someone like this, they know the English language well. So well, in fact, they take certain liberties with it. By liberties I am referring to the Art of Reinvention. Reinventing the English language for the sake of...well...for the sake of...okay. I am at a loss here. Wait, it's Bigun I'm talking about here. It's reinvention for the sake of a laugh, for the sake of the new word just sounds like it fits better. In his mind anyway.

Am I crossing a line here? Busting my husbands chops in public, amongst all of our Blogger friends? Hell, if you can't bust your hubby's chops with your friends, who can you bust them with? Right...? Right?

Bigun, for those of you who have met him, he's a funny guy. He pretty much considers his art of getting a laugh to be a no holds barred sport. If reinventing words for a laugh works, well, he's bound to go for it.

Here are a few examples. You and I would probably say the word "discombobulated" he would say "noncombobulation". Here's one - you and I would say "spectacular" Bigun would say "spectaculous". Everyone else in the free world would say "oxymoron" he would say something like "morononobia". I know, directly translated, not even close to the same thing. But when translated in a Bigun conversation, you can't help but laugh. So, the next time you listen to the Taconite and Bigun Show, you may want to pay attention to how the English language is being reinvented by our own Bigun. He's a funny guy.

Leave him a message on the PodLine 813-990-0951. There's a hot British chick asking you to leave a message. If you can't download for an I Pod, make sure you let them know. They can supply a link for an MP3 also.

Well folks, that's all I've got. Have a great week and hopefully, I'll be chatting with you sooner than a month from now....

Still Breathing

2008-02-22T20:27:00.012-05:00

I received this in an email today...funny stuff. Lil' Clyde cracks me up.

I saw this online the other day...ads from the 50's/ 60's...

Yep...
shoepants. Anyone? You can actually order these, today.

When was the last time YOU forgot to use Chase Sanborn Coffee? Ladies, step up or be punished... er...I mean SPANKED

Oh yes they did!!

This was an email I received from J-Wimm- stunning...(be sure to click on it for better reading)

So, you now know I haven't been up to much. Right after my Jan 20th post I left for North Carolina for a week. Came home with a viscious strain of bronchitis. Kicked my butt and had me in bed for 2 weeks. Except for Bigun's Gasparilla Marathon, I got out of bed for that. His mom and her hubby were in for a long weekend as Mama Bigun raced the half marathon. They left on Tuesday and then my friend Lisa and her husband arrived late Thursday night. Crazy, crazy schedule. Bigun had other priorities, you know, like blogging and podcasting. That meant I was picking up the slack. Yep, I went there...lol
I've missed you guys, I am hoping to get back to my old blogging self. I have been lurking and catching up on your posts as often as I can.
Thanks for stopping back in. Post with you soon!!
Di

p.s. I finished The Pillars of The Earth and thoroughly enjoyed it. Rumor has it, Iron Jenny just cracked the spine on her copy....

Pillars for Dee

2008-01-20T16:20:00.000-05:00

I have, in between work and such, had my head buried in a book. Well, not just one but several, one after the other. Late at night when I can't sleep. This seems to be often of late. Today I cracked the spine of a new book. Pillars of the Earth, by Ken Follett. I hadn't heard of it until the end of last year. Well, maybe I had and simply ignored it. You see, I like, no- I LOVE a good mystery. I love reading a tale that unfolds without predictability and with a wit that expresses intelligence. They are very difficult to find. My dilemma is that most books are very predictable and they lack a certain level of, well I am stuck here- They lack the ability to grab my brain in a manner that makes me crave the next line. Yet, at the same time, once I begin a yarn I am loathe to set it down before it is finished. I always hold out for that ending which will surprise me and leave me wanting more. Sometimes it happens. It is for that reason, I never leave a book unfinished. Ever.

A colleague of mine was reading McGuire's book "Wicked" and expressed that she was having great difficulty getting through it. We talked about the story, the premise and the characters. Her interpretation of what she had read to date was a world apart from my impression of the story. It was interesting to discuss this book with her. Very interesting. You see, I don't have any friends who have the desire to read books the way I do. So, the topic of what book I am currently involved with seldom comes up. It comes up in idle chat at the office but not much beyond the title and the author.

Dee, my colleague, was as intrigued by our discussion about Wicked as I was. She recommended we choose a book and read it, then talk it over with each other. You know, a little (very little - one might even say mini - haha) book club so to speak. Dee asked me if I had read Folletts "Pillars of the Earth" yet. Funny that she should ask me that. I had only picked it up a day before at the book store and perused the foreword. Funny too that she told me it was an Oprah Book Club title. I did not know that. I am funny about book clubs. Don't get me wrong, not because it's Oprah's Book Club, but any book club. It has been my past experience that most book clubs spend far too much time trying to figure out what the author meant by this word or that and no time on what the story meant to the reader. Certainly the author has an intention when they unfold their tales. Myself, however, am not at all privy to what the author had in mind so why would I be presumptuous enough to assume the authors intent in a particular verse or chapter? I believe most authors (of fiction) write simply to entertain. Naive? Maybe. Probably. That's okay. I'm fine with that.

Anyway, back to the idea of reading an Oprah Book Club recommendation. I laughed. Yes, I laughed. Out loud. Juvenile, I know. I couldn't help it. I like Oprah. Not because she is rich, famous, etc. I like her because she moves forward in this life and works daily to make a difference in this world. Does that mean I find her thoughts on literature to be gospel? No. So, I pondered the thought of going back to the book store and picking up a copy of "Pillars".

This whole thing took place right before Christmas. I am not supposed to purchase any books so close to Christmas. I usually receive a small library of books under the tree on Christmas morning. It's something I truly look forward to. I did not purchase "Pillars". Strange thing happened though. Santa brought me a copy on the morning of which we celebrate Baby Jesus' Birthday. Weird really, when you think about it. Santa knowing that "Pillars" was on my list of books for the year.

So, I have finished the other four books I got for Christmas and I have a copy of "Pillars". Today it was time to embark on a new adventure. After reading Follett's introduction, I am intrigued. I have included a copy of Ken Follett's Introduction for you to read. Perhaps those of you who have a passion for reading would like to join me in this book. Dee and I will be talking it over, but we won't be talking about what Follett "meant" we'll be talking about what we took from it. If you enjoy the introduction and it moves you to pick up your own copy, I wish you happy reading. For those of you who have already read it, please wait to tell me your thoughts after I finish it. I would be very interested in hearing your point of view.

In Ken Follett's words.....

This is the introduction I wrote for the 1999 edition.
Nothing happens the way you plan it.
A lot of people were surprised by The Pillars of the Earth, including me. I was known as a thriller writer. In the book business, when you have had a success, the smart thing to do is write the same sort of thing once a year for the rest of your life. Clowns should not try to play Hamlet; pop stars should not write symphonies. I should not have risked my reputation by writing something out of character and overambitious.
What's more, I don't believe in God. I'm not what you would call a spiritual person. According to my agent, my greatest problem as a writer is that I'm not a tortured soul. The last thing anyone would have expected from me was a story about building a church
So Pillars was an unlikely book for me to write - and I almost didn't. I started it, then dropped it, and did not look at it again for ten years.
This is how it happened.
When I was a boy, all my family belonged to a Puritan religious group called the Plymouth Brethren. For us, a church was a bare room with rows of chairs around a central table. Paintings, statues and all forms of decoration were banned. The sect also discouraged members from visiting rival churches. So I grew up pretty much ignorant of Europe's wealth of gorgeous church architecture.
I started trying to write novels in my middle twenties, while working as a reporter on the London Evening News. I realized then that I had never taken much interest in the cityscape around me, and I had no vocabulary to describe the buildings in which my characters had their adventures. So I bought An Outline of European Architecture by Nikolaus Pevsner. That book gave me eyes with which to look at buildings in general and churches in particular. Pevsner got really passionate when he wrote about Gothic cathedrals. The invention of the pointed arch, he said, was a rare event in history, when the solution to a technical problem - how to build a taller church - was also sublimely beautiful.
Soon after I read Pevsner's book, my newspaper sent me to the East Anglian city of Peterborough. I have long forgotten what story I was covering, but I shall always remember what I did after filing it. I had to wait an hour for a train back to London so, remembering Pevsner's fascinating and passionate descriptions of medieval architecture, I went to see Peterborough Cathedral.
It was one of those moments.
The west front of Peterborough has three huge Gothic arches like doorways for giants. The inside is older than the façade, with arcades of regular round Norman arches in stately procession up the aisle. Like all great churches, it is both tranquil and beautiful. But it was more than that. Because of Pevsner's book, I had some inkling of the labour that had gone into this. I knew the story of humankind's efforts to build ever-taller and more beautiful churches. I understood the place of this building in history, my history.
I was enraptured by Peterborough Cathedral.
Cathedral visiting became a hobby for me. Every few months I would drive to one of England's old cities, check into a hotel and study the church. This way I saw Canterbury, Salisbury, Winchester, Gloucester and Lincoln, each one unique, each with an intriguing story to tell. Most people take an hour or two to 'do' a cathedral, but I like to have a couple of days.
The stones themselves reveal the construction history: stops and starts, damage and reconstruction, extensions in times of prosperity, and stained-glass tributes to the wealthy men who generally paid the bills. Another story is told by the way the church is sited in the town. Lincoln faces across the street to the castle, religious and military power nose to nose. Winchester has a neat grid of streets, laid out by a medieval bishop who fancied himself a town planner. Salisbury moved, in the thirteenth century, from a defensive hilltop site - where the ruins of the old cathedral are still visible - to an open meadow, showing that permanent peace had arrived.
But all the while a question nagged at me: why were these churches built?
There are simple answers - for the glory of God, the vanity of bishops, and so on - but those were not enough for me. The building of the medieval cathedrals is an astonishing European phenomenon. The builders had no power tools, they did not understand the mathematics of structural engineering, and they were poor: the richest of princes did not live as well as, say, a prisoner in a modern jail. Yet they put up the most beautiful buildings that have ever existed, and they built them so well that they are still here, hundreds of years later, for us to study and marvel at.
I began to read about these churches, but I found the books unsatisfactory. There was a great deal of aesthetic guff about elevations, but not much about the living buildings. Then I came across The Cathedral Builders by Jean Gimpel. Gimpel, the black sheep of a family of French art dealers, was as impatient as I with discussions about whether a clerestory 'worked' aesthetically. His book was about the dirt-poor hovel-dwellers who actually put up these fabulous buildings. He read the payroll records of French monasteries, and took an interest in who the builders were and how much money they made. He was the first person to notice, for example, that a significant minority of the names were female. The medieval church was sexist, but women as well as men built the cathedrals.
Another work of Gimpel's, The Medieval Machine, taught me that the Middle Ages were a time of rapid high-tech innovation, during which the power of watermills was harnessed for a wide variety of industrial applications. Soon I was taking an interest in medieval life in general. I began to get a picture of how the building of the great cathedrals must have seemed like the right thing to do for medieval people.
The explanation is not simple. It is a little like trying to understand why twentieth-century people spent so much money exploring outer space. In both cases, a whole network of influences operated: scientific curiosity, commercial interests, political rivalries, and the spiritual aspirations of earthbound people. It seemed to me there was only one way to map that network: by writing a novel.
Sometime in 1976 I wrote an outline and about four chapters. I sent it to my agent, AI Zuckerman, who wrote: 'You have created a tapestry. What you need is a series of linked melodramas.'
Looking back, I can see that at the age of twenty-seven I was not capable of writing such a novel. I was like an apprentice watercolour painter planning a vast canvas in oils. To do justice to its subject, the book would have to be very long, cover a period of several decades and bring alive the great sweep of medieval Europe. I was writing much less ambitious books, and even so I had not yet mastered the craft.
I dropped the cathedral book and came up with another idea, a thriller about a German spy in wartime England. Happily, that was within my powers, and under the title Eye of the Needle it became my first best-seller.
For the next decade I wrote thrillers, but I continued to visit cathedrals, and the idea of my cathedral novel never went away. I resurrected it in January of 1986, having finished my sixth thriller, Lie Down with Lions.
My publishers were nervous. They wanted another spy story. My friends were also apprehensive. They know that I enjoy success. I'm not the kind of writer who would deal with a failure by saying that the book was good but the readers were inadequate. I write to entertain, and I'm happy doing so. A failure would make me miserable. No one tried to talk me out of it, but lots of people expressed anxious reservations.
However, I did not intend to write a 'difficult' book. I would write an adventure story, full of colourful characters who were ambitious, wicked, sexy, heroic and smart. I wanted ordinary readers to be as enraptured as I was by the romance of the medieval cathedrals.
By then I had developed the method of working that I continue to use to this day. I begin by writing an outline of the story, saying what happens in each chapter and giving thumbnail sketches of the characters. But this book was not like my others. The beginning came easily but, as the story unwound over the decades, and the people grew from youth to maturity, I found it more and more difficult to invent new twists and turns in their lives. I realized that one long book is much more of a challenge than three short ones.
The hero of the story had to be some kind of man of God. This was difficult for me. I would find it hard to get interested in a character who was focused on the afterlife (and so would many readers). To make Prior Philip more sympathetic, I gave him a very practical, down-to-earth religious belief, a concern for people's souls here on earth, not just in heaven.
Philip's sexuality was also a problem. All monks and priests were supposed to be celibate in the Middle Ages. The obvious drama would be that of a man fighting a terrible battle with his lusts. But I could not work up any enthusiasm for that theme. I grew up in the 1960s, and my heart is always with those who deal with temptation by giving in to it. In the end I made him one of that minority
of people for whom sex really is no big deal. He is the only cheerfully celibate character I have ever created.
I got in contact with Jean Gimpel, who had inspired me a decade earlier, and was astonished to learn that not only did he live in London but in my street. I hired him as a consultant, and we became friends and table-tennis opponents until his death.
By March of the following year, 1987, I had outlined only the first two-thirds of the book. I decided that would have to be sufficient. I began to write.
By December I had a couple of hundred pages.
This was pretty disastrous. I had been working on the story for two years, and all I had was an incomplete outline and a few chapters. I couldn't spend the rest of my life on this book. But what was to be done? Well, I could drop it and write another thriller. Or I could work harder. In those days I used to write Monday to Friday, then deal with my business correspondence on Saturday morning. From around January 1988 I began to write Monday through Saturday and do letters on Sunday. My output increased dramatically, partly because of the extra day, but mainly because of the intensity I was bringing to my work. The problem of the end of the book, which I had not outlined, was solved by a flash of inspiration, when I thought of involving the principal characters in the notorious real-life murder of Thomas Becket.
As I recall, I finished a first draft around the middle of that year. A combination of excitement and impatience impelled me to work even harder on the rewrite, and I began to work seven days a week. My business correspondence was neglected, but I finished the book in March 1989, three years and three months after starting it.
I was exhausted but happy. I felt I had written something special, not just another best-seller but maybe a great popular novel.
Not many people agreed.
My American hardcover publisher, William Morrow & Co, printed around the same number of copies as they had of Lie Down with Lions, and when they sold the same number they were content. My London publishers were more excited, and Pillars sold better there than any of my previous books. But the initial reaction, among publishers worldwide, was a sigh of relief that Follett had completed his crazy project and got away with it. The book won no prizes - it was not even nominated. A few critics adored it, but most were unimpressed. It was a No. I best-seller in Italy, where readers have always been kind to me. The paperback was No. 1 for one week in Britain.
1 began to think I had been wrong. Maybe the book was just another page-tumer, good but not great.
However, one person believed passionately that this book was special. My German editor, Walter Fritzsche at Gustav Lubber Verlag, had long dreamed of publishing a novel about the building of a cathedral. He had even spoken to some of his German authors about the idea, but nothing ever came of it. So he was very excited about what I was writing, and when the typescript came in he felt his hopes had been fulfilled.
Until this point, my work had been only modestly successful in Germany. (The villains in my books were often Germans, so I could hardly complain.) Fritzsche was so enthusiastic, he thought Pillars could be a breakthrough book, one that would make me the single most popular writer in Germany.
Even I didn't believe that.
But he was right.
Lubber published the book brilliantly. They hired a young artist, Achim Kiel, to do the cover, but he insisted on designing the whole book, treating it as an art object, and Lubber had the courage to go with his concept. He was expensive, but he succeeded in communicating to the buyer Fritzsche's feeling that there was something special about this book. (He went on to design all my German editions for many years, creating a look that Lubber used again and again.)
The first intimation I had that readers saw the book as something special came when Lubber took an advertisement to celebrate the sale of 100,000 copies. I had never sold that many hardcovers in any country other than the USA (which has three times as many people as Germany).
After a couple of years, Pillars began to appear on the list of longest-selling books, having made some eighty appearances on the German best-seller list. As time went by, it just stayed on the list. (To date it has made more than 300 weekly appearances.)
One day I was checking my royalty statement from New American Library, my US paperback publisher. These statements are carefully designed to prevent the author knowing what is really happening to his book, but after decades of persistence I have learned to read them. And I noticed that Pillars was selling around 50,000 copies every six months. By comparison, Eye of the Needle was selling around 25,000, as were most of my other books.
I checked my UK sales and found the same pattern: Pillars sold about double.
I began.to notice that Pillars was mentioned more than any other book in my fan mail. Signing in bookshops, I found that more and more readers told me Pillars was their favourite. Many people asked me to write a sequel. Some said it was the best book they had ever read, a compliment I had not received for any other work. A British travel company approached me about creating a Pillars of the Earth holiday. This was beginning to look like a cult hit.
Eventually I figured out what was happening. This was a word-of-mouth book. It's a truism of the book business that the best advertising is the kind you can't buy: the personal recommendation of one reader to another. That was what was selling Pillars. You did it, dear reader. Publishers, agents, critics and the people who give out literary prizes generally overlooked this book, but you did not. You noticed that it was different and special, and you told your friends; and in the end the word got around.
And so it happened. It seemed like the wrong book. I seemed like the wrong writer; and I almost didn't do it. But it is my best book, and you honoured it.
I appreciate that. Thank you.
Ken Follett
Stevenage, Hertfordshire January 1999.

Alive and Kickin'

2008-01-14T08:05:00.000-05:00

Bigun suggested I post something so that everyone would know he hadn't chopped me up into little pieces and discarded the remains.

It has been really busy for me lately. Long hours at work and sheer exhaustion when I get home. Lately it seems I wake up around 9pm to discover I have dozed off on the sofa. I have a few things to post about but I just need to a little spare time...

May You Be Loved

2007-12-24T09:55:00.000-05:00

Most of you know this guy.
Have I told you lately How much I love him? He's a great guy. My life is filled with so much love both from my family and my friends. If I could wish anything for all of you, this Christmas, it would be that you too know such big and generous love in your lives as I have.
I wish you all much love and a Wonderful Christmas and New Year.

Merry Christmas!!!

2007-12-19T02:25:00.000-05:00

Since Tea showed us all that Bigun was such a great Dancer I wanted to share another clip of him "Cuttin' a Little Christmas Rug" Enjoy!! Merry Christmas to everyone!!

What on Earth Have I Done? Anyone?

2007-12-14T10:37:00.000-05:00

Once, in another lifetime, I was a photojournalist. For too brief a time the world opened it's hidden doors to me. Doors that all too often remain closed to so many of us. We may peer through the windows often enough but rarely do we get invited to come in, sit for a while, hear the story...

One of the many stories I experienced was one written about the strife and hard lives of "The Homeless". It was a tough story to cover. The reporter who was writing the piece asked for me to cover the photography. Eric was a young Auburn grad, newly married, athletic, bright, professional and hungry. He was hungry to tell a story and feel that when the ink hit the page, it would make a difference. Eric always took me back to the time when I was young and spending the summer at my grandparents. Every day at my Grandparents was an adventure. This young writer, this Journalist, he was like that - every day was an adventure to him.

Eric got it in his head that he wanted to write a piece on the homeless of Columbus, GA. Admittedly, I couldn't wait to get my camera out and walk through the door to the stories of their lives. What could push a brilliant Bank President to disappear from life as we know it to go live on the fringe? What could cause a college educated RN to leave her 3 children, her home, her job and her husband to live in the middle of the woods in a tent made of plastic scraps and trash bags? What could push a Doctor to leave behind a blooming practice to live under a bridge and be forced to protect his "territory" daily with a hunting knife? What could cause this Doctor to stop saving lives and start taking them?

The door didn't open with ease. As a matter of fact we knocked and it took a long time for someone to even bother and ask us who we were and what did we want. Eric found someone at a shelter who knew how to get us inside. There were "rules" we had to follow. I could NOT photograph anyone's face. Neither Eric or myself were to EVER go into the woods without a Sheriff accompanying us to the edge first. We were not allowed to go anywhere without the Shelter Counselor. We had to leave our ID, Money/wallets with the Sheriff. We had to hang name badges around our necks. Never at any time, were we to use anyone's real names. It was made clear to us that covering this story would be at our own risk.

We covered many levels of "homeless". We met women with children who had no where to go because their husbands/boyfriends had left them never to return. These were women with multiple children, all of the children were under the age of 5 or so. Some were women who were really young and most were uneducated beyond their high school diplomas. Some of the women had college degrees but had been beaten down so brutally physically and emotionally they didn't know how to pick them selves up. They needed a helping hand. I met families who were still intact with the mother and father at these shelters. Families who's main bread winners had fallen on hard times and the jobs they did have weren't enough to pay rent and utilities. In another shelter I walked inside the doors and everywhere I looked someone was in bandages or a cast. This particular shelter was where women could go with their children to hide. Yes, Hide. I was unable to take any photographs of the place or the people here. I saw 3 year old children in casts. Women, young mothers, on crutches with their faces mangled. This was the shelter they were brought to when the lives of the mothers and the children were in danger. They were in danger of being killed by the husbands/ boyfriends/fathers. These women and their children were brought to this place by an "Underground Railroad" of sorts. There was never a direct way to get there. The location was well protected and very strict. There were no phones in this place except for in the counselors' office. All phone calls had to go through someone "in charge". The counselors had this rule because, believe it or not, some of the women would try to call the men who had nearly killed them or their child! This part of the story was the most difficult for me to cover. The range of emotions I experienced is unexplainable. The outrage, sadness, sympathy, anger, frustration, heartbreak, it was all so overwhelming. I was merely a bystander...imagine how those women and their children felt.

I could tell you more about the families I met in the shelters but it's not the reason I am here, writing this essay today. Today I want to tell you about the people who live on the street. The loners, the panhandlers, the mad men and women who beg for your spare change every day. I know you have all seen them at one time or another in your life. Lately we've been seeing them not only on the corners in our little town of Brandon but also all over the television. Clearwater, Florida has quite a homeless population. As you can imagine the weather is conducive to people living in the out of doors. Many of the homeless in Clearwater had set up their own little Tent Community. After many, many requests by the powers that be to dismantle this tent village the authorities of Clearwater took matters into their own hands. They went through the tent village and sliced the tents up and rendered them useless to the inhabitants. Yes, I can hear some of you now. Your hearts are wrecked with sadness over another human being doing such a thing to a fellow human being. You may want to stop reading my post now. You won't hear any sympathy from me. These homeless villages are a festering community of filth, sickness, disease, brutality and drugs.

Once, a long time ago, my heart used to break for the homeless I would see on the streets. Then, I received this white slip of paper in my assignment box at the Newspaper. The assignment was to cover the story with Eric (the young Auburn Grad) on the Homeless People of Columbus. When I saw that slip in my box, my body was wracked with emotion. I remember physically shaking with the anticipation of covering this story with my camera. My God. What did I do to be dealt such an honor? Who did I please with my journalistic skills to land such a juicy assignment? Oh -as a photographer I could do SO MUCH with this story! Just imagine. So many people who were homeless could be helped with this sort of coverage. Wow. The power we held. The photographs were going to reach right off of the pages and pull it's readers into the story. The photos would be like a big strong hand grabbing each reader by the collar and yanking them down into the streets of Columbus where they would not only see -but feel the heart break and terror of the homeless in our community. When the readers were done they would ALL run out to the nearest shelter and begin to donate their time and spare cash to help in any way they could. Yes, this was going to be one of the greatest photo essays ever to go with a written journey. One beyond any you had ever seen. Surely you have heard of this story? 1996 - Columbus, Georgia? That's what I thought. (welcome to my own personal LaLa Land)Don't get me wrong, it was an incredible story. It took over a month to fully cover it. It was written in increments. Like a 2 week Mini Series on TV. Eric told the story with love, compassion and true emotion. Until we reached the part of the story in which the shelters were no longer where we were meeting the homeless. Eric's professionalism didn't waver. He told the story with an objective and fair perspective. It just became impossible to continue on with compassion and love.

What we discovered out there when we walked into the woods to a large plastic tent was this. Enter at your own risk. The people living out on the streets. They weren't there because they had no where to go. They weren't there because there was no room at the shelters. They were there because that is where they chose to be. It is a CHOICE they have made. We met people from all walks of life down there in the bowels of what you and I call Society. Everyone of them, we soon discovered, told the same story. The variation was so slight that sometimes the only way we could keep them straight was to refer back to Eric's notes.

Let me break it down for you. "The Story" that is...

"I had a family. Children, spouse, great job (ie: Dr, Nurse, Bank President, Salesman, Mechanic, just fill in the blank) nice home, etc. I couldn't handle the pressure. I started smoking crack, or smoking pot and drinking." The vices sometimes varied but the results never did. Instead of making the decision that enabled them to stay healthy and keep their families intact they all chose the weak minded choice. Drugs and alcohol. They all spent so much of their income on these vices that they left their families with nothing. The homes were lost to the banks, the cars were repossessed, their work performance caused them to be fired and the spiral just keeps spinning downward from there. Their lives no longer were about living but rather about when they could nail the next score. The men and women we met living on the street held no value to life. Not their childrens' (many hadn't seen or spoken to their children in years), not their fellow man and certainly not for themselves. I discovered that many of these homeless people make quite a nice living by begging and stealing and prostituting. Yes, we are talking 6 figure incomes. Did I actually say the word "nice"? I did. By my standards and probably most of you out there reading this, $120,000.00 or $180,000.00 a year is pretty nice. Don't you think? That much money a year could put a nice roof over your head and a decent car in the driveway. Right? Do you know how they gauge how much money they "make" annually? By their drug habit. Yes, it was calculated on how much they spent daily, weekly, on their drugs. Staggering actually when you think of it. Because, you see, they didn't spend a dime on shelter. They didn't spend a single penny on food. Food was delivered to them daily by the local shelter. It was brought to them at the risk of life by the shelter volunteers. Under the watchful eyes of a police escort. Truly. I am not making this up. I am neither exaggerating, or embellishing. These (homeless) addicts would spend every penny on drugs and alcohol. Is this tragic? I ask you this because I am the curious sort. I am one of those people who went through life with one idea and had it drastically altered with the the cold, hard truth. Please, do you see the tragedy in these words? Are you wondering where my compassion has gone to? Let me tell you where it lies. It's in the shelters where our help is needed. My Compassion is there with the young mothers and their children who have been beaten to within an inch of their lives. My compassion rests solidly with the Father who was laid off after 15 loyal and hard working years with a company. The same father who can't find a job that pays enough to keep a roof over his family's heads. He is a hard working guy, but with no college degree he is left wondering how he will ever be able to get back on his feet again. With a little help from you and me, the Shelter will help him return to a good life for his family and him. Please, give your time and/or money to your local shelters.

No longer (when I see the beggars standing on the corner of my drive home) do I feel sorry for the fact that they are out there begging for money. No longer do I feel the need to dig down and pull out the last of my hard earned dollars. Giving them money is not the answer. If you choose to help with money, please, give to the shelters. Take your compassion and your love for our fellow beings to the Shelters. The next time you feel as though you want to help these people with your spare change - rethink it. Instead, when you get home, write a check out and mail it to a local shelter. The people in the shelters, they are the ones looking for help. They aren't looking for handouts, they are looking for a hand up to find their way back into society. Don't pass out your spare change to the person who has left their families in search of the next score. Donate your change to the counselor who used to live on the streets and is now trying to help others find their way back to the light.

Do I sound jaded and cruel to you? Maybe I am, but I am not going to apologize for it. Instead, I am going to tell you about a woman I met. Lets call her Nancy. Nancy, she was an RN in her former life. She had 3 kids and self admittedly, a husband who loved her. She had a beautiful home in Alabama that sat neatly on a Golf Course. When I met her, she was maybe 43 or 45 somewhere in that age range. You could look at her and see that at one time, she was a beautiful woman. Probably what you and I would call a stunner. Long chocolate colored hair that was so thick and beautiful other women would look at her and wish they could have her life, her family, her hair. Nancy had it all. Nancy was living the American Dream. Oh, the glory. The last time I saw her, she was in her mid 40's. She looked 60 if she was a day.

When I met Nancy she was lying on the ground, in the woods, under a plastic tent. Half dead. Beaten to an unrecognizable state. Beaten by her boyfriend. Her hair was dirty and matted with blood. It was stuck to the side of her face and plastered to the back of her head. Her hands, well, they looked like balloon character hands from a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade Hot Air Balloon. Her Crack smoking boyfriend had crushed her hands under his boot when she didn't produce enough cash for his next fix. Lying about 15 feet away was her remaining dog (lets call him Jasper). Also beaten badly. Jasper was beaten because he had tried to protect his master, Nancy. Jasper's companion (Nancy's other dog) Spike had been killed only 2 weeks prior. Spike was killed because, like Jasper, was trying fiercely to protect Nancy. Listen to me now, don't you DARE go feeling sorry for Nancy. Don't you dare. She was lying there on the ground because she chose to be there. She had chosen the life she was living. Not once, but twice. No. Wait, this was her third time of living on the streets. She was just as brutal and hardened as the man who had beaten her and left her there to live or die. He would be back. He was probably watching us all from some perch in the trees nearby. Nancy refused medical treatment. She refused to allow someone to admit her into the hospital. We all believed, judging from the looks of her that she was probably suffering from internal injuries of some kind. Yes, standing there in front of this woman my heart was moved with the need to help her. She looked us all in the face and made it clear that under no uncertain terms would she go with us. Yet, she wanted our pity. She wanted our money. She wanted us to save her from another beating, with our money. Nancy and many others, told us their stories. The candor we witnessed was completely unexpected. I expected to hear how sad their lives were and how much they wanted to find their way out of the life they were living. That isn't what we heard at all. When you see a homeless person holding a sign that reads "Homeless Vet. Hungry. Please give" don't. Odds are, they are not a vet at all. Odds are, they know you'll be more likely to dig into your pocket for someone who fought for our country. They are for the most part, liars. If you feel the need to really give them something, give them a burger or a sandwich. Don't contribute to the addiction. Give to the shelters. Take your extra blankets and coats to the shelters. They need your help.

I know some of you are thinking that I am cold and hard concerning the Homeless people of this country. That isn't true at all. In fact, it couldn't be farther from the truth by thinking that. My heart goes out to those who are left homeless and penniless with no one to turn to. When they reach out and ask for help. They ask for someone to help them find their way back to being active, functioning members of society. They do need our help. They need to know that society isn't turning their backs on them. They need to know that we do care about helping them and their children live full and healthy lives. I don't judge those who struggle to make ends meet. If I can spare anything, I will. Without a second thought. You never can know if that extra dollar in your pocket can mean the difference between a 3 year old eating or not eating that day. What you can know is that your extra dollar dropped into the hand of a street beggar will not see a sandwich being given to a small child. It will see it's way to the rock being smoked from the crack pipe.

I was reading a book titled "What On Earth Have I Done?" written by Robert Fulghum. He's the guy who also said "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten". Remember him? I enjoy his writings. He is the guy who inspired me to write this. Do I agree with EVERYTHING he has to say? Definitely not, but I thoroughly enjoy his perspective. One of the chapters in "What On Earth.." is about street beggars. His perspective on them is interesting. He seems to toy with the idea of trying to put himself in their shoes. That is all he really does though, is toy with the idea. After all, unless we are truly destitute and homeless, how could any of us ever imagine the full scope of the circumstances? I don't claim to understand what it would be like to be living the way some of them do. What I do understand is that few of the street beggars can find their way to the truth. For these people, the Truth is, if you want out of street life someone is there to help you. That is the truth. That's the mission of the shelters.

Well, Robert Fulghum proposed that these beggars have a tough job. They must really be in a hard spot if they are humiliating themselves by standing on a corner begging for change. Thing is, not a single beggar we interviewed understood the concept of shame, humiliation, remorse, fair play or dignity. Not a one.

During the Holiday Season I think we are all inclined to feel a bit more charitable. I think it's wonderful to see people become even more generous than normal during this time of the year. I think that it's important to reach your hand out to help someone. When you reach out this year, reach out to the shelters. If those who are begging really need help, they'll find it there, at the shelter. For those who are already seeking help, they'll reap the benefits of your generosity. Money is always a good thing if you can spare it. If you cannot, then start a program to go around and collect clean or new blankets, coats, hats, gloves, the things that can help keep someone from falling victim to the cold temperatures. Reach out, just don't reach out your window with a hand full of change. Reach out with your heart and help those who are trying desperately to help themselves. If you simply cannot help yourself and you roll down your window for a street beggar, don't give them money, give them a boxed lunch.

No One Ever Died Over a Sofa

2007-12-08T08:45:00.000-05:00

Until this past Wednesday.

"No one ever died over a sofa." That's what I say to my clients when they become irrationally upset over the time it takes to complete the design of their home. Unless you have born witness to the 2 women strangling each other in the furniture store over the very last CLEARANCE sofa (in red), what I say is pretty accurate. I mean, come on, in the scheme of all things real and every day, is a sofa that big of a deal? No. Lets be realistic here.

You know, the sofa doesn't translate into the literal sofa - well, sometimes it does- I use it to translate into all things for the home. Most of you know what I do for a living, I am a professional Home Interior Specialist. I come in, listen long and hard and then translate all of the information given to me by the client into a stunning, yet functional Home Design. PHEW!!! That was a lot of words!! Oftentimes this includes remodels and new construction. Right now I am working on a home that is a million plus home out in the country. It sits on a ranch. The family breeds some of the most sought after cattle in the country. Seriously. Super nice people too. Until the house came along. What is it about building a home that turns us all into deranged, border line axe murderers?

This couple I am referring to, awesome couple. I see the wife several times a week and talk to her several times a day. Every day. Starting at about 8 am every morning. Let me start closer to the beginning...

When I was brought on board the house was completely enclosed and all of the studs were in place. The flooring was already chosen as was the cabinetry to be installed in the kitchen. There were some pretty crazy ideas that were going to be put into effect. Ideas that caused me to raise an eyebrow and respond "Oh." What else can one say in such a circumstance? Yes, they were hiring me to help them create a beautiful home and given my druthers, I rather they NOT be doing some of the things they were planning. But, they didn't hire me to dash their dreams into cinder. So. You take these slightly insane ideas and as a Designer you find a way to actually make them good, solid, beautiful ideas. A for effort here?

The wife and I have hit it off immediately. We are on the same page so to speak. All of the time. We were commanded with the interior and the husband was going to take care of the structural decisions. Right. The wife and I have been thwarted by the husband at every turn. After things have been ordered. Custom things. Things that cannot be sent back. Things that have been made for them, exclusively. Thing is, I don't discover the thwarting until I arrive at the home and find NOTHING is where it should be and decisions on design were made without my knowledge. You see, if you change one thing, most often, nothing else works. A great design is defined by it's flow. It's ability to fit together like a puzzle. Well, throw one piece of the puzzle in the trash, you are screwed. SCREWED. Did I say that loudly enough?

So, I arrive out to the house this past Wednesday. The Hubby is there. As he is at the start of every day. It's fine, I don't dislike him, really. I get the fact that this is their dream home and he wants it to be perfect. So he says. He says perfect then does something that indicates it isn't about perfection but about speed. How fast can we get this house done? This house was started in January of this year. The builder projected 12 months for completion. In Florida, that is about right. If you want it done right. Keep in mind, this house is on undeveloped property and there were a lot of initials that needed to be done before they started laying the foundation, etc. I think the foundation went in early February. Any way, moving along.

I had specified a certain cap for the shower wall in the Master Bath. You know, the stone/ tile/ cap that the shower glass sits on. Well, this is about chest high and I wanted the same onyx to be used there that were are using for the counter tops. Beautiful, great tie in. Well, Hubby doesn't want to wait 2 weeks for that to happen. 2 weeks. In a Million plus home. 2 weeks. Keep in mind, this sounds trivial to most of you, I'm sure. However, if you are building a home of this stature, wouldn't you want even the small details to be perfect? Well, this is not a BIG detail but it isn't small either. It would tie the bathroom all together. It is that single missing puzzle piece that completes the puzzle. I walk in and he is having the tile guy put the same stone that is on the floor onto the cap. Because that would get it done right then. Instead of in 2 weeks.

Did any of you ever watch Ally McBeal? She used to imagine these crazy hysterical images of her life and the audience was privy to the imagery. For example, once she was being "dumped" by a guy - the image was her in a huge Dumpster being dumped into the back of a dump truck. Hysterical. Another time she saw this really HAWT guy. The imagery was her with a 3 foot tongue lolling out of her mouth like a dog panting. Pretty funny. Well, imagine me looking at this Hubby who is building the house. I drop all of my files, my tape measure, my phone, everything. I run and leap on his chest like a large jungle cat, knocking him to the floor. Instead of ripping out his jugular I begin to furiously shake him as his head repeatedly hits the stone floor underneath him. I snarl and growl and yell through clenched teeth, "This is a Million dollar plus home!!! Wait for the F'ing onyx cap!!!!" Instead, I kept my cool - okay, maybe my eyes rolled back into my head momentarily- I tell him it is his call and I leave. This is only one example of a string of these sort of decisions being made by Hubby. The house is looking like a HUGE Million Dollar hodge podge. They hired me to do a job, but won't allow me to do my job. Now, I am no meek and mild mannered person. I am pretty straight forward with everyone. Including this guy. He doesn't hear. He says okay, then does what he wants to do regardless. AAARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!

Okay, so, now you know where I have been for months and months. Why (in addition to family issues) I have no energy left for blogging. I am exhausted.

Please forgive me. I know I have been away and when I finally do surface, I rant on and on about work. Sorry.

Oh. Hubby is still alive and the wife and I, we're good. I feel for her. She has to deal with him every day. I deal with him only a couple of times a week. Count my blessings right? By the way, I do still like the guy, he is a good guy. I just think he is suffering from Buildingahousedon'tknowwhatthefuckiamdoingitis.

Turkey Trot '07 Clearwater - Goes to The Dogs

2007-11-24T06:05:00.000-05:00

This years Turkey Trot counted 16,506 registered participants. Bigun and his Mom were two of the folks registered to run...

We didn't see our friends, GreenEyedLady and ExcelMan at the race but they were there. ExcelMan helped GEL with a little chart of her own...on her forearm. GreenEyedLady finished her first 5k in 38 minutes!!

The Fire Department came out to run

The Pilgrim and her Indian friend came out to run

There was a Jockey'ed Turkey in the run...

Bigun passed them all... with a nice, strong finish

Then he went back to find his Mom and finish with her.

Despite the technical difficulties, Mama Bigun had a great finish!

Including the random folks captured in the pics of Bigun, Mama Bigun, Fireman, Pilgrim/Indian and The Jockey of the Turkey - you've seen just about all of the human competitors, the other 16,500 entries went to the dogs....

This little one brought his owner along for a lift...

Let's end this post with a smile.
The Bigun's hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

Any Time at All

2007-11-10T07:55:00.000-05:00

All ya gotta do is call, and I'll be there....

Sunday morning, November 4th. Bigun heads out for a run, I snuggle back under the covers. It's 7 am. I'm on vacation.

7:28 am. Phone rings, it's IronJenny. "Di, Waffle House. Breakfast. Get there." I question which Waffle House, determine location and agree, "Bigun will be back in 30, we'll see you there". I in turn call GreenEyedLady. I know she is in her room, alone - on the morning of her Birthday- because ExcelMan is in the line to get a slot for IMFL 2008. After a really horrible rendition of Happy Birthday, she clears her ear and says she too can be ready in 30. IronJenny had already called Tac and TriMama - we would see them there!

When Bigun gets back, it's takes him a little longer than 10 seconds to get ready to go... he's such a primadonna!

By the time we arrive at the Waffle House, everyone has consumed their breakfast and are heading out the door. We missed it. Darn it. No worries, they are all headed over to the Registration site for IMFL 2008. Even Ms. Athena Extraordinaire (you know the one...the one who called me last night and said - and I quote - "I am SO DONE with IronMan"). lol. Bigun, GEL and myself figure we have plenty of time to enjoy breakfast while they are standing around in the chilly PCB morning air waiting to put their names down and to fork over ungodly amounts of money to be tortured for a day by a group of IM organizers they don't even know. Okay. No worries. We'll see you all at the pool after breakfast.

After a torturous ride in the car GreenEyedLady is relieved that Bigun and I can finally decide on a place to eat. Half of the places listed, we went to, they were gone. Disappeared. No longer in existence. Beach towns. We would have eaten at the Waffle House but the line was wrapped around the building and we were hungry. Oh well.

Lovely Birthday breakfast was consumed and back to our charming, well kept, non rusty toilet paper holder rooms we went. A girl can dream, can't she?(remember the "eeeeeewwww" from my previous post) lol ExcelMan arrives at the Hotel moments before we do. We see him briefly in the lobby, congratulate him on signing up for IMFl '08 and chat briefly about the day ahead. We really really really want to talk them into staying one more day, but alas, they're responsible grown ups (something Bigun and I are unfamiliar with) and explain, they really must get back to Tampa that day. We have been invited to Brunch at TriFeist's and discuss meeting up there. GEL and ExcelMan explain, they really must get back, they'll go by and congratulate Trifeist a little early and then hit the road south. Hug hug, kiss kiss...you know.

Bigun and I point BettyLou in the direction of the Boardwalk Hotel and head over for early morning cocktails, poolside. the gang is all ready kicking it up at the pool. TriMama, Tac, IronJenny, IronGirlNyhus, IronGreg, IronRob, IronNick...man, it was virtually a Who's Who at the pool. Bigun has the video camera out and it's rolling. I have NEVER met a bigger bunch of camera hounds in my life!! They were ALL mackin' for time on the Bigun Video!!! Tac, he's really diggin it. IronJenny, well, lets just say, she may soon have a place in the Halls of Video History. IronGirlNyhus....total camera Hawg. Total!! LOL Just kidding!! Sort of, a little. It was so much fun, it really was.

We parted ways for a little while and drove over to Shores of Panama for a celebratory brunch with TriFeist and her hubby Joe. We met some MORE new people there! Good food (the BEST spinach quiche I have ever had), excellent Champagne and wonderful company!! I met TriAndBeHappy along with several of their friends. It was a really good time!

Cut to the pool - suits donned. Oh - did I tell you that IronJenny was walking around introducing her new friend to everyone? This is Wilma

We laughed, we drinked, we laughed, we drinked some more. Uh, I mean, we drank....I must still be buzzed!! TriMama didn't know her drink was gone...

The day was enjoyed by all. One of the best parts of the weekend - we all went out to the water line to watch an amazing sunset. Amazing.

Then we all changed out of our suits and headed over the Caribou Cafe to finish watching the game between the Patriots and the Colts. A couple of Bostonians joined us for the game. It was a really good time. Don't get me wrong, I like the Patriots, I do. But. Tony Dungy is the Colts' Coach. I'll take Tony. Too bad it wasn't in the cards for them last Sunday. We checked the time and decided we needed to be getting to the awards ceremony to watch our friends receive their beautiful Plaques!! Lots and lots of pictures. Iron Jenny placed first for Athenas. She is now 2 years running Athena Champion!! The night was not over.

Coyote Ugly had a few barstools waiting with our names on them. We arrive - guess what. Remember the beer situation we told you about - the lack of. It wasn't any different at Coyote Ugly!!! OMG. We were in the land of bad/no beer!! It was a black vortex and we had been sucked down into it! Kicking and screaming was of no help. No beer of any distinction ever magically appeared over the whole weekend. ARGH. We made the most of it. TriMama and I had already set our spokes spinning with some Tequila Shots at the Caribou Cafe. My philosophy, when all else fails, Tequila will solve the problem. Actually, I think Tequila solves all of the world problems for a few hours. It just doesn't matter where you are - black hole or PCB. lol A good time was had, that's what matters. IronJenny came in to join me, Bigun, Tac and TriMama at Coyote Ugly. Man - talk about CELEBRITY. IronJenny was the talk of the bar!! Everyone wanted to touch her plaque!! We even got a free round of beer...well, you know what I mean. She was HAWT!! Everyone wanted to touch her running suit! Everyone. Did the Bartenders dance on the bar for her too? Oh, wait, no. That was that guy who kept touching her plaque.
Everyone knows - no night out at a bar is complete without a follow up at The Waffle House. We did. I don't even know what time it was. Felt like midnight, it was probably only 8 pm. Time took a different turn on the clock that weekend. I never knew what time it REALLY was. I laughed so hard all weekend. And laughed and laughed.... Oh my gosh - to quote Tac " I just love my creepy internet friends!" I just love them!!!! Here I go, I am getting all misty eyed just thinking about it!

After our late evening breakfast we decided to call it a night and went back to the POSH Days Inn. I was out in seconds. Oh. Wait. No I wasn't. Nevermind.

The next morning Tac calls. He and TriMama know of a great little coffee shop - Java Joey's or something like that. LOL I think I have totally butchered the name. We meet up there with IronTriTim and Gemma, IronJenny, IronNick, IronGirlNyhus, IronGreg...wait, do you see a theme going on here...? Anyway, we fill the coffee house with all of our peeps and begin the massive download exchange onto everyone's laptops! It was hysterical. There were 10 different conversations going on all at once and we were each a part of all 10!! It was an early morning coffee party!! After about 2 hours, everyone started looking at their watches and decided it was time to get to their prospective hotels for the 11 o'clock checkout times. IronTriTim and Gemma had a long drive ahead to Chicago and had already packed up and checked out. We hugged, said our good byes to all and laughed heartily about our next meet ups. We are already anticipating the fun to be had.

Bags packed, check out at the desk and Bigun and I sigh sadly as we get ready for BettyLou to transport us back home. Back to IRL - In Real Life.

All ya gotta do is call....I love you guys.

Extra Extra - Behind the scenes

2007-11-10T07:54:00.000-05:00

The Pro start

Eye in The Sky

Ortho Bloke - friend of IronGirlNyhus

Tac before attending to his Stripper Duties

An IronMan Sunrise

Above the IronMan Beach

Another IronMan

Still watching...

IronTriMama - getting ready to strip...

TriMama in action- she made that wetsuit her bitch.

IronMan IS a team sport...

Okay - I know you've seen this one can we just say it one more time?

Who's your Daddy?!?!?

The Monarchs are on their migration south...

After the swim

The morning after...Who's in for IMFL '08?

IronJen

IronRyan ...that's a bit of a tongue twister

IronGirlNyhus

TriMama

Tac and Bigun coming in after a swim

Got a little Captain? (sorry, Wilma was cropped out accidentally)

Yes folks, that there on the far right is our ELITE ATHENA IronJen collecting her beautiful award for 1st place Athena - 2nd year in a row!!

A smacking good self portrait with a HAWT Mama!!
I think this was only minutes before we started drunk dialing...21CM - are you in?!?! LOL

IronMan at the Redneck Riviera

2007-11-07T17:07:00.000-05:00

Oh where to begin. Tough one, well the very beginning is too far in to the past, you know, packing the bags, packing Betty Lou with all of our weekend worldly belongings. That kind of stuff.
We finally do get it all done and hit the road on Friday morning around 11 am. Not too bad. Our drive is about 6 and a half hours to Panama City. With the time change from eastern to slow (central) we make it to town at about 4:30 that afternoon. Land at the Hotel with out any hitches at all and check in. Now, the staff was very friendly, they were very helpful too. I should have had an idea however, of the rooms when we walked out of the lobby and to the elevators and had to make our way through a smog of cigarette smoke. Not pleasant at all. Open the door to our room... that's all I am going to say. Well, besides, ewwww. Really. Ewwww. My advice, if you plan on going to IMFL next year, you should book your hotel now. Better yet, book a condo with a few rooms and get some friends to share with. It'll be a lot of fun!!

Bigun and I settle into the room, change clothes, freshen our faces and throw on some deodorant before we head out the door for food, fun and beer with blogger buddies. Because everyone we know who isn't racing is volunteering(meaning they are attending Volunteer meetings) we decide to secure some seats at the Host Hotel's Bar. We figured it would be slammed with athletes who were staying at the hotel. Imagine our surprise when we walked in and virtually had our choice of any seat n the place. Okay. We're ahead of the crowd. What a streak of wonderful luck for the Biguns!! Woo Hoo. We are SO scoring. NOT. On our way in to town I had spoken with IronJenny, IronTriTim, TriFeist and Taconite Boy. Everyone was eating dinner early. Before we were going to be there. So, we decided to play catch up and grab a meal there at the bar. The menu didn't look too bad. WARNING: Do not eat at THE CARIBOU CAFE at The Boardwalk Hotel. WARNING: Do not try to DRINK at THE CARIBOU CAFE at The Boardwalk Hotel. Just. Don't. Do. It. Don't. Don't Don't. After a weekend at PCB we have all come to the conclusion that it is owned by Miller and Budweiser. Try to get another kind of beer there and they look at you like you have two heads. Two Heads. I swear it's true. Other than that, this weekend, was stellar. Remember - DAYS INN, CARIBOU CAFE - Don't. Do. It. You'll thank me later.

So, we hang out at the Cafe and folks start to filter in. We see Taconite Boy and TriMama wander in. It was great to finally see them live and in person. Tac already had a beer in his hand and TriMama was packing her chainsaw, ready to show Bigun just what "Long Division" was really about. Next in we saw TriFeist and her hubby Joe, followed closely by IronJenny and her entire entourage. There was Nick, Robert, IronGirlNyhus...soon or right at the same time came Lana, Michele (one L), and Lana's sister Holly, IronTriTim (Tim just started blogging today - go give him some blogger love!!)and his lovely wife Gemma... We had the makings of a party!!! Man oh man. We were going to ROCK this town to the ground!!!!!!! Then, it was 8:30 or so and all of the athletes left. Yes, they were all mumbling something about an early day or something. WTF? You would think they were facing a 3 something mile swim, a 112 something mile bike and a marathon the next day. Oh. Wait. They were facing that. Okay, so they had to hit the hay. Tac and TriMama stayed to play as well as the three party girls from Tennessee, Lana, Michele and Holly.
The first picture up above is Left to Right is Bigun, Taconite Boy, TriMama, Lana, Michele, TriFeist (front) Holly (back)

Next picture is Michele, Lana,Tac, TriMama IronJenny, in front Of IJ is IronGirlNyhus, TriFeist, Di and Bigun.

This lovely couple is IronTriTim and his wife Gemma. They just found out that they are expecting twins!!! Cheers for The Davies!!!

Everyone ditched the Caribou and those of us left over headed to Hooters. Now we could party. PCB ain't never seen partying like this before. We all ordered our big fat plates of greasy wings, fries, fried pickles and beer and we were having a great time!!! What time does this town shut down any way? Cause we can take it into the wee hours of the morning. Laugh with me now everyone. Laugh with me. We were so tired. We were all facing an early morning too. Tac and TriMama were volunteering as Peelers aka Strippers (can't say that with out smiling) and our lovely Tennessee Crew were volunteering at the starting line.. We left Hooters around 10. Yep. 10 pm. Good God we are old. I was sawing me some ZZZ's the second my head hit the pillow!Thank goodness Hooters was next door to our Hotel. I don't think we could have made it 3 miles further. lol

4:30 the alarm goes off. Turn on the shower and mentally prepare for a day of cheering and sherpa'ing. It's tough work I tell ya (do you hear the theme to rocky playing in the background of the running shower?). Oh yeah. This is The Day of Days. 6 am we're ready to go. Knock on the door of Tac and TriMama and we meander on down to the starting line - actually we drove but meander sounds so much more...I don't know, meandering...? I have to say, as a spectator, it didn't seem any different at the IM than it seems at St. Anthony's, Disney or Miami Man. Really no visible difference at all. Until we arrived at the beach. That is when It hit me. You know the "It" I'm talking about. IronMan. This wasn't just any race. This was IronMan Florida. The swim start was like a swirl of kinetic energy. Spectators were standing in the water to film/ photograph/ watch the swim start. Oh. I forgot. I live in Florida. It was 80 degrees when I left Tampa. Just in case it cooled down a little, I packed a sweater. Cooled down? It did. It was down to 63 degrees!!!! It was friggin FREEZING out there!!! I wore a sweater with my shorts. Yes, I did. So, back to these insane people who were standing in the water and they weren't swimming in the IronMan. Ka.Ray.Zeee. Insane.

The gun went off and off went the athletes. It was an incredible sight to see. I know many of you know what I am talking about. You've been there. You've seen it. A massive surge of capped heads swathed in black rubber. Amazing. There are no pictures that can truly capture the sight. I did my best but these shots are found lacking. If you have not been to an actual IronMan, you have to make it a point to go. Those of you who were in that massive surge of bodies, it's a different animal for you. Finding your way to your stroke amongst all of those people. I simply cannot fathom let alone imagine it. I bow to you.

Taconite Boy and TriMama were told the night before that there were plenty of strippers and that they should lend their aid at a different station. Huh? What was that? Sorry. Didn't hear you. I think you were mumbling. Least that's the story we're tellin' and we are stickin' to it. Tac and TriMama WERE the Strippers. When all of the peeling action started to turn into a sea of confusion they took charge. They looked like Veteran Traffic Cops out there!! Not only were they peeling here and peeling there they kept all of the incoming going to the next available station of peelers!! I am telling you, those two put on their work hats Saturday morning. I am going to show you more than one shot because, I couldn't stop photographing them!!

I even caught Taconite Boy trying to squeeze in a little extra curricular too!! Uh Huh. Oh yes. Say it Baby...

"Who's your Daddy?!?!?"

After the bulk of the athletes finished with the swim Bigun and Taconite Boy headed to the car to get their wet suits. TriMama stayed with me to help cheer in the last 5 or 6 swimmers. While we were waiting we saw them bring in a woman on a ski do. She was draped over the board they tow people in on. A near tragedy was averted because -as we heard one of the IM officials say- they had the best teams out there. We were all so very, very thankful for her survival. We were able to cheer in the final person who made the cut off time. We also cheered in the last swimmer who unfortunately, didn't make cut off but he sure did put his all into trying. There were many Iron Hearts out there.

Lana, Michele, TriMama, Bigun and Tac all donned their wetsuits and dived into the Gulf. Did I mention, it was cold there? It was. They swam down to the spot Bigun had sited earlier with a jog up the beach. A jog in hard packed, wet sand on a 45 degree slope. Wonder why his knee was bothering him. Maybe it was the swim. Taconite Boy is quickety split in the water! He left all the girls behind. Try as he might, Bigun couldn't catch up. Oh, did I mention, Bigun was swimming with the girls. TriMama did a ninja move in the water to avoid a jelly fish and twisted her knee again. After the fun was had by all swimmers we parted ways with The Tennessee Crew and headed to the pool at The Boardwalk. They had an out side Bar and cafe. Beer was ordered and munchies were wrangled. After the hunger was put back to bed we found lounge chairs and joined Tac in his beer drinking.

It started to get breezy and the chill was back in the air around 1:30 or so, so we called it a day for the pool and left to go out and cheer for our friends out on the course. Walked around a bit and found a fellow blogger peep IronGirlNyhus, her main squeeze, Greg, her mom, Betty, a few other friends of theirs and proceeded to yell, ring cowbell, clap and yell. Time went by and before we knew it, it was almost 5 pm. GreenEyedLady and ExcelMan were expected momentarily. I was getting grumpy. My food intake at lunch was not holding out as long as I had hoped it would. My sugar was plummetting and we needed food fast. Thankfully, we were right across the street from Guadaljara's. Yumm Yumm Yumm. This was not only GOOD Mexican Food, It was GOOOOOD!!! Taconite Boy and TriMama had eaten there last year so we took them up on their suggestion. GEL, ExcelMan, Tac, TriMama, Bigun and myself had the best meal of the weekend that night. I highly recommend it. If you ever go to PCB visit this restaurant. It's on the corner of Joan and Thomas. Way yummy!!

After dinner we went back to our cheering spot. We saw IronJenny twice. She even stopped for hugs and a little chit chat. TriFeist came by - she looked so strong!!! She said "See you at the finish in 2 hours!" How awesome!! We saw a lot of Gear West Teammates and cheered loudly for them. There were some Ortho blokes and sheilas out there too! We Cheered! This is where confession time arrives. I want to tell all of you that we stayed and cheered the very last competitor over the finish line. We screamed and yelled and rang cowbell. We jumped up and down and clapped and just couldn't stop. Truth is, we didn't. We were so tired. It had been an uber long day and none of us got any rest. After dinner, the air was even colder than it had been that morning. We trudged our way back to the car to call it a day. We clapped and cheered and offered our heartfelt encouragement to those who ran past us. We even walked to the finish line, but we were smoked. So, we decided we would try to warm up with a little alcohol at the Boardwalk Bar. Tac needed more beer. Our group had dwindled to Green Eyed Lady, ExcelMan, Bigun, me, Tac and Trimama. Tac nodded off at the table...

At that point we walked back the way we had come and slid into the soft seats of the rental car. Back at the Hotel, our heads hit the pillow and it was lights out. I attempted to blog but awoke with a start with my laptop on my knees when it finally logged on. So much for that idea. I was barely awake when the phone rang. My heart leaped when I saw on my caller ID that it was IronJenny! Oh, I was so happy to hear from her!! We saw her quite a few times out on the course and she looked so awesome!!! She ROCKED THE SHIT (pardon me but it's the appropriate use of terms in this case) out of that Friggin course!!! OMGosh!! I just love her so much! She told me she was okay, but she was SO done with IronMan. I got a very brief recap from her and then she was headed to sleep. She really is an IronMan, from the inside out. Time to sleep. Lets see what Sunday brings...

blogger is giving me fits, so please overlook any typos etc...I'll fix them later.

IMFL - We are Here...

2007-11-04T11:22:00.000-05:00

Can't wait to tell everyone what a great weekend it has been!!! Our friends - ROCKED the course!!
We'll share more later, right now, there are some Bloody Marys and Captain Morgan waiting anxiously for consumption...

Stay Tuned!!

The Great Floridian - A Sherpa's Recap

2007-10-27T08:24:00.000-04:00

Last Saturday was The Great Flordian Tri. It takes place in Clermont, FL. Clermont boasts that they are THE Tri Mecca. We saw some familiar faces and some new faces too. We started our weekend on a pretty sour note. Bigun, or should I say my Tri Dummy...wait, that moniker has already been taken.

Okay, Big Dumb Husband (wink wink Honey) took his School Bus into the LBS for some work. 2 days before the race. Count 'em, 2 days. HELLO!!!!! Cut to the Day before the race... Normally the bike shop opens at 9 am. I left the house that morning around 7:30 am because I had an early morning appointment with a client. We were supposed to be leaving at 10:30 to head up to the cabin. I finished and was back home at about 10 am. There's Bigun, at home, no School Bus. Hmmmm. Bike shop isn't open. Well bike shop has possession of the Bus. Uh huh. Oh yeah. You see where this is going already don't you?

Remember, we were supposed to leave at 10:30 am and head to the cabin. Green Eyed Lady and ExcelMan had reserved a cabin in Clermont for the weekend. We were their invited guests and the plan was to meet up with them at 10:30 to head out. So, I call GEL and explained the situation. Bigun's bike is still at LBS and no one has arrived to open up -it's 10:30. Bigun drives back to LBS (3rd time now) to see if anyone is there yet.

My phone rings that cute ring tone that I have reserved especially for my Honey. He tells me that the LBS is open now but his bike is in pieces. We are looking at another hour and half of work before he can take the bike. Okay, 12:00 is alright, we can still make the 2pm meeting. GEL and I are planning a day of kayaking while the boys are running around the expo, dropping their gear and attending the meeting. We were looking at a really fun, fun weekend.

12:00 comes and goes. So does 1:30. and 2:30. 2:45. OMG we get the call. The Bus is ready. So, we get to the LBS Muy Pronto - it's less than 5 minutes from our house. Bigun pays for the repairs, we load it up and head to Clermont. Crossing our fingers that the Bus is in excellent working condition. Arrival time in Clermont is now 5 hours later than planned. GEL and ExcelMan were very gracious. GEL and I were not able to go kayaking because of the late hour and the combined downpour of rain. Yahoo!! This didn't bother us really. We were determined that the Bus fiasco wouldn't ruin our weekend. So, GEL and I set out solving some NY Times crossword puzzles. Solving crosswords from the NY Times is hard work so we decided to seek assistance with some Vino. You know how wine adds mental acuity where previously there was little. A bottle and a half later... Evening takes over day and it's time to think about Dinner. GEL and I were unaffected by the wine. That's right, we are ALWAYS giddy and happy. Oh. Right. Dinner.

Excelman's parents were in town for the race too. They had their RV at a campground in the same park we were staying at. They joined us for dinner at a place called Bruno's.

We had such a good time. The food was good, the wine was good and the company was full of good humor and cheer. Did I happen to mention that Kenny from Southpark, joined us for dinner too? Half way through dinner a fellow walks over and hands ExcelMan a balloon Kenny (from southpark). This fellow had overheard one of our funny conversations where ExcelMan had referenced Kenny. In good humor the balloon guy made an actual Kenny out of Balloons!! Yes, I have proof.

GEL in the mean time sees a baseball cap perched on top of a bottle of wine on the counter at Bruno's. She loves the hat. In usual GEL manner she approaches Bruno and asks if the hat is for sale (you never know if you don't ask right?) Bruno denies Gel the hat. Basically told her to go find her own hat. lol In a much nicer, flirty, Older, Italian Man way. That big buy in the black, that's Bruno. He's telling GEL where to go, the other guy, he's the ballon guy and he's telling GEL 'grab the hat while he's not looking..." The rest of us... we are beatin' feet to the door. Bruno is bigger than Bigun.

Back to the cabin we go. Another puzzle gets knocked out (sorta)... The boys have to get up early so we all decide it's lights out time, we'll see everyone in the morning. Cut to 4:30 am. Bigun and ExcelMan gather their things and head over to the race to set up. GEL and I stay snug under the covers, afterall we don't need to be there until 7:30. 6am. Miss Sunshine 'n Happy Voice knock on my door. "RISE AND SHINE, IT'S 6 AM" Okay. OKAY. lol, those of you who know me, you know....before coffee, please speak in a whisper if you can. Give my brain time to warm up before expecting coherent thoughts from me. GEL starts laughing, looks at me and says, "Should I be a little quieter?" LOL "Uh. Yeah." I croak. Guess what. No. Coffee. Anywhere in the cabin. None. Nada. OMG. SHIT. How am I going to make it? Crap. I buck up, get dressed and out the door we go. GEL and I zip over to the campground to pick up Russ and Betty (ExcelMan's parents).

As we make our way around the areas for car parking we quickly discover, there isn't any. Every available space is taken. It took us less than 15 minutes to get to the race site and almost 40 minutes to find a place to park. Oh. Did I mention that it has steadily been POURING DOWN RAIN?!?!?! Not a big deal. Really. Finally I find a place where I feel comfortable enough to invent a parking space. We trudge up the hill with umbrellas in hand and head towards the race site. We missed the boys swim start by seconds. Not a big deal really. We are standing where they come out of the water and we wait. Now, keep in mind, it's rainy and we didn't bring any jackets. I didn't bring my camera down to the race site either because I didn't want to subject it to the weather. Luckily ExcelMan's Dad, Russ brought his camera. He got shots of the boys coming out of the water. He doesn't use digital though so we'll have to wait for the hard copies to come in the mail.

GEL and I are wet and freezing. Decision is made to go back to the cabin for jackets. My head is pounding the way it would if a 2 ton elephant had used it for an ottoman. Ouch. Coffee. Please. Finally, a RaceTrac. They have coffee, hot cocoa, tylenol and bathrooms. RaceTrac is a coffee junkie's heaven. The day is looking better. The hot beverages helped us to shake off the chills. We decide rather than drive all the way back to the cabin for a jacket, lets run to Target and pick up a sweater. It'll be faster. Laugh with me now. Two women, in a store, looking for a sweater or jacket. Pretty quick right? No. Finally, we decide on sweaters. Identical sweaters. Yes, I know, if we were guys you would call us gay. But we're not, we're girls and we have the bras to prove it. So, instead of Gay we look Adorable. Seriously. What? We do. WE. DO.

Okay - so we don't look as cute and cozy as this couple do...

Back to trying to park again....woohooo we actually find a space just down from Betty Lou. The guys drove Betty Lou to the race because we girls needed the Honda so Russ and Betty could ride with us. There we are. Walking back to the race site, in our matching sweaters. We look HAWT. We were hot. The rain had stopped and the warm air was hitting us. It was hot out. And Humid. Who cares. We were going to have fun. Now we have our matching sweaters, the chairs, our cooler, the camera bag and umbrellas. We are ready for a day of cheering. As we are walking into the Park, we notice they are letting people park on site now. Cool. GEL and I go down, set everything up for Russ and Betty's comfortable viewing of the bike portion and head back to our cars. We moved Betty Lou and The Honda down to the race site. Wow, what a lucky break. Now, when the race is over, the boys won't have to walk 20 minutes back to the cars with all of their gear.

Returning to where we left Russ and Betty GEL and I set up to watch the bike portion of the race. We are about 50 yards from T2. We are cheering for all who pass us. There were some nice bikes at this race. Really nice. Thankfully this race isn't a sprint. We get to see ExcelMan and Bigun coming in off the bike portion of the race and get a ton of great pictures.

I got a picture of Rocky.... the Bird, not the Racoon.

And another picture of Rocky (click on the photos for a better view)

some pretty butterfly pictures

Oh. Right. The reason we are at the race...here's ExcelMan getting ready to dismount at T2

Here's Bigun ready for T2 as he hits the last curve on the bike.

After our guys hit T2 we decide to find a good spot where we can watch them on the run course. Our goal was to be able to see them more than once. We found choice real estate for this. At one point the athletes have to loop around before they run the course around the lake. We clapped and cheered (notice, no cow bells are mentioned - Bigun did the packing for this race, that's all I'm going to say).

Bigun's Mom and his sister Allison joined us for the running part of the race. We were all having a good time. I know Bigun told you there wasn't much spectator support here. He was right. We tried to make up for it and cheered on as many people as we could. After the guys looped past us we moved another 50 yards to position ourselves closer to the finish line. This is where our cheering abilities really increased. A lot of people were feeling the bite of the race at this point. Some were taking to walking. Well, this is not acceptable, they needed a cheering squad to get them running over the finish. We did our best. It was awesome to see the gratitude on the faces of the athletes. I only got "The Finger" once I think. Not bad. Most everyone who went past us said "thank you". Glad we could help. ExcelMan joined us for cheering after he finished. He helped us to cheer Bigun in too. What a fun day it turned out to be.

Bigun's Mom and his sister had to leave so we said our goodbyes and meandered our way over to the cars. The guys went and packed up their stuff. They wanted to get to the cabin, clean up and head back to the finish line to cheer in the Ironman distance athletes. That was the plan anyway.

Back at the cabin, we all shower and get dressed and realize, heading back to the race wasn't going to happen. The guys were exhausted. We found a place for dinner, ate and went back to to the cabin to go to bed. The awards ceremony was the next day. As we were headed back to the cabin we witnessed an incredible sunset on the lake where the cabin was perched.

At the awards luncheon on Sunday, both ExcelMan and Bigun had a little hardware coming their way. After awards were handed out we all said our goodbyes and headed back home.

It was a great weekend. We had such a nice time and enjoyed ourselves immensely. No Bus fiasco or rain got in the way. Good laughs and good company were enjoyed by all. I am looking forward to IMFL and cheering on all of our friends who will be there. In addition I am looking forward to a few cocktails with everyone too. Until next week, have a great day every day.

Are You Lurking?

2007-10-25T17:27:00.000-04:00

Lately I feel more like a lurker than a participant here in The Land of Blog. I probably feel this way because that is pretty much what I have been doing. Lurking. I really love reading what everyone is posting about. Whether it's about their workouts, their calorie counts, their kids, their pets, their lives in general, it's nice to keep up with everyone. I know I posted a little while ago about how busy my schedule has been. It really has been that busy. But I have been lurking just the same. Not just here in The Land of Blog but in Life too.

In addition to being so busy I have found that I need more "down time" for my brain. I haven't been able to come up with anything that would be remotely funny, slightly entertaining or even mildly boring to write about. Bigun just posted about this years race season and how much fun it was. He took us on a tour down memory lane with a lot of the photos we had posted previously. It was a truly wonderful post. Not a lot of "smack talk" (very unusual) and lots of overall nice warm fuzzy sorts of feelings. It was a great post. It exemplified just how we have felt all year long as a part of the Tri community. When I say Tri community I include all of you who stop in and grace our blogs with your time and your thoughts.

I know I am not the only one who goes through the phase of writer's block. Everyone experiences it on occasion and let their blog sort of hold it's own. I noticed I have lost some readers lately because of my lack of blogging. Sorry to let some of you down. Hopefully when I get past this Holiday Season I can get my mind back on track. Then maybe I can get past the lurking status I seem to be holding in and return to my usual chatty commenting self. I know, you can't wait...

I don't usually get "too personal" here on my blog but on occasion I'll open the window a little wider. I don't have the charm and finesse that Nytro exhibits, nor do I have the articulate well thought out writings of Comm and Al. My brief views to what you may call insight come no where near what Momo's or Geek Girl's do. I am mostly a superficial poster. My personal life remains mostly a mystery... I guess.??? I try to keep my posts funny so that there is some form of entertainment you can take away. Perhaps you may even find yourself smiling about my ramblings when your mind turns to it hours after you have read my blog. Yes, wishful thinking, I know.

Part of the reason I have been so quiet and such a lurker on the blog front is my mind is just bogged down with so many things. Not just work but so many other things as well. A couple of weeks ago I posted about the TBI's our soldiers are coming home from the war with and how many of them are basically having to find their own way to help after they are released from active duty. This is a sore spot with me because I grew up an Army Brat. We still have many friends who are active duty. Many of them who are over seas right now putting their lives on the line for our country every day. These are friends who I care deeply about. These are friends who have wives and children here waiting with baited breath every time the phone rings. I heart our military. My heart is broken for the men and women who commit their lives to the Military Service and see little to no support when they need it most. It really does weigh heavy on my mind. How to help with this issue is something I search for every day.

No, I am not going to carry this soap box through the rest of my blogging days but I bring it up because it is personal to me.

My Dad served for 3 years his first go around in the Army and for 23 years on his second term. Those of you who do follow my posts know that I love my Dad with all of my heart. The human heart has a lot of room in it doesn't it? Not my dad's. 1/4 of his heart no longer functions. He has had open heart surgery. He has the "zipper" to prove it. He went through the surgery in 1996. Quadruple bypass at Duke. His surgeon was a leader in medicine. The Dr. really knew his stuff. When I went to Duke with my Dad for his pre-op (which was only supposed to be a double bypass) I was leery of getting my hopes up for my Dad. I didn't tell him this- but I was. I was scared to death. Terrified.

During the "tour" of what would happen during surgery my Dad was asked by his Surgeon if he would be willing to participate in an experimental procedure. It was the use of Artificial Blood. There were two heart surgeries of this sort scheduled for the next day, one of them was my Dad's. My Dad's and one other fellow. The Dr's explained how they were trying to find alternatives for blood supplies. Often times during war or natural disasters, medical emergencies, there is not enough blood to go around. My Dad would be the first human to receive this artificial blood. The doctors touted how they believed this would improve his recovery time, his memory would return faster (or suffer less) and he would feel better all around if they used this new blood. My first thought was, "are you kidding me? This is my Dad. This is the man I want to see walk out of here, not carried out on a stretcher after your little experiment fails". My Dad didn't hesitate for even a millisecond. Do you know what he said?

He said, "Absolutely. If this has the potential to help our soldiers in the event of war time, then I am your man." My Dad said that. He didn't pause, he didn't hesitate. He was willing to risk his life on experimental blood for the futures of our Military men and women. I have been proud of my Dad, always. That day I was prouder of him than any person could be of someone they love.

I picked him up for surgery the next morning at 3:30 am or so. About 12 hours later the surgeons came out to report on his condition. He ended up having much more damage than they anticipated and the double turned into a quadruple by-pass. Okay. He was okay.

Three days later he came out of intensive care and was taken down to the cardiac ward. They said he would be going home in about 2 or 3 days. Home for my folks is North Carolina. They lived about an hour and a half from Duke. Everything seemed to be going fine as far as we could tell. At this time, my home, Bigun's and mine, was in Georgia. So, I drove home thinking I would be back in a week or so once my Dad was back at his home. I barely pulled into my driveway in Georgia and the phone was ringing. I didn't get to it in time to answer. When I played the message back (this was before I had a cell phone) it was my dad's Cardiac Surgeon. Something was wrong. Drastically wrong. My father was back in ICU and they didn't know if he was going to make it. My father was slipping in and out of semi consciousness. It didn't look good. The Dr left a message asking me to call him directly. I did. What he told me blew me away. Blew me away. The Dr tried to tell me that my father's problems were occurring because he was an alcoholic and basically that he was detoxing. WTF?!?!? Yes, I let the Dr have it. My Dad doesn't drink. He wasn't, isn't and never was an alcoholic. This I know for fact. The Dr suggested that perhaps I didn't know my father as well as I thought. Well, this sent another litany of expletives flying out of my mouth over the phone to this Dr. I told him I would be at Duke that night and I wanted to see the medical charts for my Dad. They needed to be handy and ready for me to view the minute I walk through the doors. I got back in my car and returned to NC.

The charts were not available when I walked through the doors. I was getting a run around. I should tell you that I was my Dad's spokesman. He gave me a Power of Attorney just in case something happened. As it turns out, my Dad was "lost" on the operating table. He died for about 3 minutes. He had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia. This was news to me, to my Mom, my whole family. His set back wasn't due to his so called drinking, it was due to his allergy to the anesthesia. No one shared this information with me until I started asking for "Superiors". This Great Dr. decided to find an alternative "blame" that would place responsibility on my Dad. Truth was, they lied to us from the minute they came out of surgery. They conceded that these problems he was experiencing could well be the result of the complications during surgery. Oh - and lets not forget, he received the trial blood. They were trying to keep this out of the whole picture because they didn't want to look towards it as a possible factor. They shuffled their way around like pros. Their behaviour is what gives Dr's a bad name. If they had stepped up to the plate to begin with and not tried to "hide" or "cover up" the things that went wrong, I wouldn't have been so upset. My response wouldn't have been such an angry one. Knowing my father didn't drink and them trying to tell me he does...sent me over the edge. I guess they thought I was some dumb ass that wouldn't be smart enough to ask questions.

Any way, my Dad spent quite a while going in and out of a "coma like" state. He remained in ICU and I remained in NC with him 3 days at a time. 3 days in NC 3 days in GA, 3 days in NC... and so on. When I would go to Duke to be with him I would bring a little visitor with me. The Dr's and Nurses said that my Dad couldn't hear us. Didn't know who we were in his moments of semi consciousness. I didn't believe them. Each day I arrived I would set my back pack down on his bed and unzip the side. 'Biner (pronounced beener, but named after a Carabiner) would slip out and cuddle next to my dad under the covers. She would press her tiny little 3 pounds next to his hand and stay there until the evening when I would get ready to go. None of the hospital staff ever knew she was there.

One day I walked in and my Dad had been moved to the cardiac ward. He was conscious and talking. It was one of the best days of my life. So, when I walked into his room on the 5th floor with my backpack on my shoulder, do you know the first thing he said to me? "Did you bring the dog?" He did hear us, he did know we were there and he couldn't wait to see the little 'Biner for the first time.

Now, here we are eleven years later. My dad is in a bad way. Very Bad. You see, he's suffering from an OCD. He is a compulsive hoarder. In his mind, he's okay. Nothing is wrong with him, it's everyone else who has a problem. I know, many of you think that this isn't really a disease at all. It's just what happens to crazy people when the elevator stops going all the way up. I have to admit, I thought that way too. Then I started doing research on it. I started researching it after I spent 7 days of pure hell in NC this summer. Pure hell on so many levels that I can't even begin to explain. I am going to spare you from the worst of it.
To give you a little insight, my Dad has been hoarding things for so long that all he had were little pathways to each room in his home. Each room was packed from the ceiling to the floor with "stuff". Some of it was good, usable stuff. Most of it was trash. Trash of every kind. He felt that everything was useful or could be. You and I would throw away an empty toilet paper roll right? Not my Dad. He thought it might come in handy some time. If he threw it away, that would be when he would need it.He had doznes of them in plastic bags. If he owned one DVD player, he owned a dozen. One TV - he has 15. And so on and so on...Stacks upon stacks upon stacks of newspapers filled his living room. From the floor to the ceiling. There was only enough cleared space on the sofa for my Dad to sit. Everything else was packed tightly under boxes and bags and stacks of things.

Please don't get me wrong. When I describe my Dad you may think I believe he is perfect. I don't. My Dad is my Dad. He's human and he has his faults and I don't kid myself about these things. He has always been a stubborn, hard headed person who has definite opinions about everything. He hasn't had an easy life by any means. He grew up in the foster system during the 50's and 60's. He never even knew his given name until he joined the Army- the second time. The first time he joined the Army he was under age, so he stole his older brother's birth certificate. The Military was going to open doors for him. The Army meant Freedom.

Now, he struggles daily with his many health issues. He battles with the VA for benefits he is entitled to and cannot get. He shakes uncontrollably as he watches his family members take away all of his "belongings" and load them into the back of a truck to be discarded in the county dump. He panics at the thought of one bag of empty paper rolls being thrown away. When I started researching Compulsive Hoarding I was only looking for a way to help deal with him. The research I have read is mostly vague. Some articles though are treating this as the serious issue it is. Research is finding that this is different from other OCD's. It's different because most often there is a physiological occurrence that triggers this behaviour. My thoughts went to...oh I don't know, lying on an operating table for 3 minutes with no oxygen going to his brain ...? No, I am not blaming the doctors for what is going on with my Dad. It was an unfortunate accident 11 years ago. No one could have known he would be allergic to the anesthesia. Could they? No, probably not. However, the heart condition, mixed with the surgery could well be the trigger for this extreme behaviour. This behaviour of which he has no control. He's seems perfectly normal until you see where he lives, how he lives. How he subjects my Mom and his other family members to these conditions.

When I went back to NC this past summer I spent 6 solid days doing nothing but packing up most of his belongings that we could salvage. I know, what I shared with you was the end of a long week with me and my family yucking it up on the trampoline. What we were really doing was salvaging my Dad's life. His past, his history, his attachments. The rest had to be thrown away. Imagine, if you can, four 12 x 12 rooms packed from the ceiling to the floor, front to back full of garbage. Then imagine 4 more rooms packed the same way with salvageable things. That is what I did with my three sisters and my Mom-for a week this summer. I haven't even scratched the surface yet of how bad it really was. Now, here I am 3 months later not knowing what to do. There isn't a single day that has gone by, since then, that I don't worry over my Dad. There isn't a single day that has gone by that I don't try to come up with a way to help my Dad. My sisters, my brother, my Mom. No one has stepped up to do anything. They are all afraid. Afraid of his reaction. Afraid that if they intervene he might do something horrible and unthinkable. We are all being held hostage right now by my Father's illness and what might happen if we try to force him to get help. He holds everyone hostage with his temper tantrums.

So here I sit, pounding away at this key board while trying to figure out how to help my dad and I don't know what to do or how to go about doing it. He'll never go voluntarily. Never. How can I help him knowing that if I do- it will probably be the last time he ever speaks to me. Ever.
It is time for me to quit lurking and do something.

Top 5, make that 10, wait 15,no.Oh hell, A bunch of things you should know about me.

2007-10-17T17:51:00.001-04:00

I just realized I passed my 100th post about 6 posts ago. I thought I would bring the "list" back. We have a lot of new blogger peeps who may or may not have seen this before...

1. 14 years of marriage, I still find my hubby interesting and sexy

2. I love my babies. That would be the 4 legged kind.

3. I am a steadfast friend. Loyalty is a defining character trait. If I ever get that call in the middle of the night and a friend needs help with an urgent burial, I'll get there as soon as possible and I'll even bring my own shovel. :)

4. People are interesting. Mostly. Usually. Unless they're really weird. Then they're just a twisted curiosity. A twisted curiosity that I find it difficult to pull myself away from - in a really twisted kind of way.

5. I need my convertible. Really, I do.

6. Shoes are very important. Repeat after me, shoes are very important, they can make or break your outfit.

7. I border on being a control freak. Just ask my sister, my business partner, my husband...the dishwasher- it must be loaded a specific way.

8. Meeting new people is a wonderful adventure

9. I have a voracious appetite for reading novels.

10. I love the color RED. Love it.

11. Everyday holds a surprise. I find that I am always surprised by that fact. Good or bad.

12. God willing, I'll make a difference in some one's life that will help them find/create a better life for themselves.

13. Being Spontaneous is wicked fun it's just not always convenient. fun...convenient...fun... convenient....

14. If you want a fast car you have to drive it fast. No exceptions. Drive it like you stole it.

15. Wherever you go, there you are.

16. I lived in Ethiopia when I was little. I have heard lions roaring in the wild. When I was little I thought it was left over from a dream. Then my mother told about how the lions could be heard roaring.That was when I knew it wasn't a dream.

17. I was a Photojournalist- I LOVED that job. I LOVED the stories. I LOVED the history of lives I witnessed and documented. I LOVED my colleagues. What a great crew of people. I still miss them.

18. My sisters and my brother are good people. My brother is my favorite brother. (how's that Dewain?)

19. My nieces and nephews mean the world to me. My greatest goal in life is to be the FAVORITE AUNT

20. I still get misty when I remember the first time I felt Lauren, Alex and Madison kicking. Lauren will be graduating high school in a year.

21. Truly Great friends are rare, I am fortunate to have more than one.

22. I still don't know how I was lucky enough to meet and then marry such a good man.

23. I have lived many lives in my 41 years and all of them are mine.

24. I have no regrets. Everything I have done and everyone I have known had their part in helping me to become who I am today. The good and the not so good. It's all good.

25. I have added new people to my family with Uncle Mel, Aunt LaVerne, Anne, Chris, their kids and Kim and Joe. They make me feel like I am coming home every time I see them. I thank Bigun for that too.

26. Greek and Roman mythology still fascinates me.

27. I believe in reincarnation.

28. "You are always free to change your mind and choose a different future, or a different past" Richard Bach

29. I plan to keep changing. Hold on. - I'll probably still always be a bit of a control freak, but I'm working on that one.

30. Rollercoasters are the BOMB. Did you hear that Sheikra is going to be bottomless?!?!?!? OMG OMG. I CANNOT WAIT!!!!!!!! June 16 2007
31. Bloody Marys....yummmmmmmmm double yummmmmmmmmmmmmmm

32. I worked as an A.A. for a top Law Firm in Boston, they repped New Kids on the Block....lol blast from the past ah?

33. I owned a lapis blue honda del sol. Great car.

34. I still remember the very first black and white photograph I ever printed. It was a photo of a car wreck and the car was flipped over and wrapped in telephone lines. Scott shot the accident, I developed the prints. Morbid, I know, but I remember.

35. persnickety is a funny word. rereading it cracks me up

36. Mr Bill from SNL was freakin hilarious.

37. I lived in Pruem, Germany I attended High School in Bitburg.

38. My friends were Tammy Stohr, Belinda Beltran and Toni Grogg

39.I graduated from Pine Forest Senior High in NC.

40. I try to keep in mind that there are never REALLY any problems, just different solutions.

41. It is what it is. If you don't like it, fix it or get over it.

42. Water calms me.

43. I love a good book while in a hot bath.

44. Strawberries dipped in chocolate truly are everything they are cracked up to be. umm umm

45. Halloween- oooooo. the best!

46. I admire originality.

47. John Parker was the first boy to ever give me perfume as a gift. It was Wind Song. I really liked it. I was 14.

48. Country music, real country music, ie: Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty, Loretta, Patsy, Willie, Garth, etc. is the schisznit.

49. Driving down a country road on a sunny day with the top down is heaven on earth. I really do need my convertible...

50. Having my cat curled up on my lap is a nice way to end the day. He so rarely curls up

51. Fear is a poor excuse for not doing the work.

52. "Those who are not delighted by learning, those who cannot be enticed into new ideas or experiences, cannot develop past the roadpost they rest at now."- ClarissaPinkola Estes

53. I love wigs.

54. Bigun always lets me warm my feet on him when we get into bed at night. I love that about him.

55. My old '77 Celica- The Beast- what a great car she was.

56. I wanted to be able to list my favorite classic novel. I can't. There are too many wonderful ones out there.

57. Obscure movies are interesting

58. If you look for the best in people, most often you will find it.

59. If you search and search for the best in someone and you never find it, RUN. Run as fast as you can in the opposite direction from where you found them. Run like the Devil is on your tail and gaining ground. 'Cause most likely, that isn't far from the truth. Run Forest Run

60. On occasion, I pay the toll for the car behind me. If they had a bad day, maybe it'll get better. If they had a great day, maybe they'll pass it on. Maybe some day someone will pay it for me.

61. My favorite blanket is the one my dad sent to me from Korea for Christmas when I was 6. I still use it every night. It's my woobie

62. 13 years of marriage, I still get butterflies when I am at work and my mind wanders to Bigun.

63. I am a lousy downhill skier. Cross country skiing is fabulous.

64. My Chi straight iron was worth every penny.

65. I see people as colors- what color do you think you are?

66. My tattoo. Yes, I still want it.

67. My two favorite T-Shirts are my "Doors" and "Beatles" T's.

68. Stained glass is beautiful

69. cooking with fresh herbs from my garden is a great way for me to unwind

70. I miss Rock Climbing- Florida is pretty flat. I met Bigun when we were climbing. Well, actually I met him at a bar with his girlfriend, but it was for only a few seconds. Then I met him rock climbing. That was for life.

71. an old friend of mine taught me how to play chess. I never play anymore. I don't know why, I never play any more. I really like chess.

72. Pomegranate juice is one of the world's greatest inventions

73. whenever I receive a Thank you note from someone, my heart grows a little bit more.

74. I'm not sure which I like more, choosing the gift or wrapping the gift. Presentation is everything.

75. I cannot pass up a sale for wired ribbon. I'm weak in that way. see #74

76. I used to be a vegetarian.

77. I am a coffee snob. I like it flavored and creamy

78. I look forward to spending one on one time with my Husband. weirdo, I know.

79. I dream about alligators often. still a weirdo, for real.

80. I am a Ramen junkie. What an awesome food. 1001 ways to eat ramen, I know 2002 ways.

81. Dream Weaver.(Gary Wright) My most favorite song of all time, in case you wondered.

82. Dolly Parton- Love her!

83. I used to smoke. I liked smoking. A lot. Now, it nauseates me. humm.

84. Those alligators I mentioned, I am always walking across the back of one onto another. I win. ?? isn't that weird? Those dreams started before I ever imagined I would be living in Florida, the Motherland of Alligators

85. "41 Stories" by O'Henry - "The Last Leaf" a must read.

86. Chip Norman - my first kiss

87. My favorite cookies are Milanos- Raspberry. exquisitely sinful.

88. I could live on sushi, ramen and milanos. Seriously. Seriously- I could.

89. ask me about any movie.

90. I wish I were better organized- that infamous road to hell...it's paved with all the files and papers I misplace daily while looking for other lost papers and files. They're never really lost, they just end up in unusual places. It's bizarre.

91. When a person is important to me I try to make sure I tell them. It's a sad state when you can't tell the people who mean the most to you just how much they mean to you in your life.

92. I really really really LOVE to dance

93. I was 24 when I had my first "shot" of tequila that wasn't mixed with soda or some sort of beverage. Tequila. I was with my girlfriend Jeanine Ivey. I was hooked.

94. Myrtle Beach, South Carolina was always certain to be a good time. Over the years, we had many parties there.

95. I am a very emotional person. I cry when there is a sad movie on, I cry when I am really really really happy, I laugh out loud when a great song comes on the radio. I am really tough to be around when I'm PMS'ing. All those emotions have no where to go... WTF

96. I know the secret to eating Capn' Crunch...

97. Bologna sandwiches, yummm with Miracle whip and american cheese. How's that for a healthy and nutritious snack? lol

98.

99.

100.

(list started in 02/07)
... I'll keep you posted

This One's for J-Wim and Big Mike

2007-10-11T16:38:00.000-04:00

For those of you who follow J-Wim and Big Mike's blogs, you know their sense of humor. For those who don't follow them, well, do yourself a favor. They are a funny couple. Bigun and I had the pleasure of meeting them and hanging out with them in Chicago. It really was a fun day.

Well, Bigun is always busting someone ...you never know if you are on the receiving end of a bust until you read his post. True? Oh yes. Although I am his wife, trust me when I tell you, I have no immunity from his sense of humor. That is what he calls it, in case any of you were wondering.
Something arrived in the mail the other day. It was a cute little package from Big Mike and J-Wim. (did I tell you I love them?).

Here is the note I found when I opened the package...

Then I found this T-Shirt under the note...
I laughed so hard!! This is what we call funny!!
What do you think Mr. and Mrs.Blink?
I think we're having Tacos tonite.

Sgt. Eddie Ryan

2007-10-07T19:33:00.001-04:00

Could your parents afford to pay for your needed therapy - after a Traumatic Brain Injury - on $108.00 a month?

This post isn't intended to cast a poor light on the Doctors and Nuses who tend our wounded. This post is to help shed some light on something that is mostly kept in the dark. The aftercare and therapy that is not happening when Dr's hands are tied. The VA does what it can on the level of the Dr's and Nurses. How can we help change this? Below is the chart that shows how our men and women are compensated after they get out of the Military due to an injury related release. Did you know that they are releasing TBI (traumatic brain injuries) with little to ZERO follow up care/therapy. Then so many of them are only qualifying for 10% disability? The politicians need to step up and do something with the funding. Please, let your local and State Politicians know, this type of aftercare is unacceptable.

Disability Compensation
Contact your Veterans Service representative or VA Seamless Transition program representative to calculate your service-connected disability compensation. There are a number of factors that affect the amount of compensation you receive, i.e. injuries, number of dependents, years of service, etc. The charts below provide a sample calculation.
Compensation for Service Connected Disability (VA)
Monthly Rates of Compensation
Effective Dec. 1, 2004
10%........................................
Veteran Alone $108

With Spouse & Child $108
20%........................................
Veteran Alone $210

With Spouse & Child $210
30%........................................
Veteran Alone $324

With Spouse & Child $391
40%........................................
Veteran Alone $466

With Spouse & Child $555
50%........................................
Veteran Alone $663

With Spouse & Child $775
60%........................................
Veteran Alone $839

With Spouse & Child $973
70%........................................
Veteran Alone $1,056

With Spouse & Child $1212
80%........................................
Veteran Alone $1,227

With Spouse & Child $1406
90%........................................
Veteran Alone $1,380

With Spouse & Child $1581
100%......................................
Veteran Alone $2,299

With Spouse & Child $2523
* There are additional amounts of compensation available for veterans based on the type of injury sustained. Additionally, Marines whose service rated disabilities are rated at 30% or more may be entitled to additional compensation.VA Compensation Rate Table
Calculating Disability Retirement Pay

E-3 with over 3 years of Service and 40% Disability
E-5 with over 6 years of Service and 40% Disability
Two Methods - Select whichever is most favorable to you

Length of Service Method Basic Pay x 2.5% (0.025) x Years of service

$1641.00
x 2.5%
x 3
------------
$123.07/month

$2205.30
x 2.5%
x 6
------------
$330.79/month

Percent-disability method Basic-Pay x Percent Disability

$1641.00
x 40%
------------
$656.40/month

$2205.30
x 40%
------------
$882.12/month

Severance Pay = Base Pay X Yrs of Svc X 2
$9846.00
$26,463.60
Note: Figures calculated using average of "high-three" basic pay. Assumptions are that the Sgt was a Cpl in 2003 and Lcpl was a PFC in 2003. Each disability retirement will be accompanied by a line-of-duty investigation. If the disability is not due to your intentional misconduct or willful neglect, and if it was not incurred while AWOL, then you are entitled to disability severance pay in the amount of two month's basic pay per year of service to a maximum of twelve years.

I Have Been Cheating

2007-10-03T18:31:00.000-04:00

Yes. I have been cheating and I am sorry.

I have been cheating on my posts. Craziness is exactly what it has been here for a while now. My J.O.B. is taking more time along with all of the social events, Tri's, etc going on - craziness. So, I have been shortchanging all of you on my posts. Sorry, but posting with lots of photos has been a quick way to let you all in on the goings ons around here. Cheating. I know. Sorry.

In addition, because of my short amount of time, I have been skimping on the comment love. I am still reading everyone's posts but I find myself clicking on the next because I am always so pressed for time. I am still stopping in to see everyone as I always have but have been skipping the comment love. Cheating. I know. Once again, I am sorry. Truly. Bear with me through my busy season and I'll be back in full swing.

This is a sample of what I do for a living. This home was a newly built home. The clients moved here from Chicago. They had no furniture at all for their home. So, I came in and created this -

This is a "during" shot. This client ordered the sofa and decided she loved the Tiger pattern so much, she wanted more. So, I painted the pattern onto the face of her kitchen bar.

And in her art "niche"

For those of you who have asked -There is a tiny peek into what I do for a living. I do it all. Custom furnishings, draperies, bedding, carpets, floors, faux finishes, you name it. Right now I am about to install a beautiful copper ceiling in a home that is being built. It will be so stunning. Stunning.

Right now, in my world, everyone loves me. They don't love me because I am charming and beautiful. Well...maybe that's it....yeah, it probably is, but in reality, they love me because I make their homes beautiful. Just in time for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Right. ( I am laughing very hard out loud right now)

If it was to be done before the Holidays, they should have started in July. Swear. Custom upholstery, drapes, bedding, it all takes time. These days, more time than before. You see, in the effort to meet Americans' desire for nice look for little price, everyone has gone overseas for their product. So, those fabrics that used to be milled in North and South Carolina no longer exist. The mills are all closed down and the fabrics are now coming from China. This means, lots and lots of wait time if the fabric isn't in stock. Well, no one ever picks a fabric that is in stock. Trust me. So, custom is defined as: Wait. Period. Please. Don't shoot the messenger.

Okay, enough of my bitch session. With all of that said, I am still insanely busy. I like it that way. My days are not so easy and they are very long more often than not. But, I really do like it this way. So, please forgive me if i cheat a little for a bit on my posts. Please?

We partied at the Bigun house this past weekend. It really was a fun filled evening. I felt like the Bride again. The house was full and I barely got to spend time with anyone person for more than 5 minutes at a time. ExcelMan and Green Eyed Lady joined in the festivities along with 20 other people. My life is so full of beautiful people. I truly have wonderful friends. TriFeist came over for a bit. It was so much fun to meet her. I feel guilty that I didn't spend more time learning about her. I have no doubt we'll see her again. Her Hubby was working so she was flying solo. I smell a dinner coming on...

In addition to work and regular home things I have been working on various projects in my home too. My walls have been painted and repainted more than once in more than one room. The Guest suite is almost done. I have to finish putting the bed together. I had the bed frame in there but now have a beautiful carved black poster head board and foot board to add. The delivery guys forgot to leave the rails, so the bed is not put up yet.

Finally finished painting the hall bath - it is metallic gold. LOVE it. It looks fabulous with the red curtains in there. In addition to that I redid our bedroom too. Bigun recovered the headboard a while ago and i finally put the new bedding on the bed. It's red, mingled with gold and bronze. The bedding. It looks so gorgeous with the red sofa in there. Stunning. I still have to finish the venetian plaster in there and the painting. It'll happen, just don't know when. I am also building some built-in bookcases in the office. The painting is done and the desk and credenza are in but the book cases are only about 1/3 of the way finished. I'll finish them in between putting the final layer of glaze on my Dining room walls. Are you seeing a trend here yet? Many projects, little time and millions of ideas... that's me. Oh. I work too. Cook often. Take care of the dogs, try to keep up with the house ( not always successfully either), work in laundry every now and then as well. Thank the Lord I don't have children too. I would be three stories up at the asylum. How you women with kids do it, I'll never know. My hat is off to you all.

Oh. I almost forgot. I read too. I read a lot. It's my get away. My sanctuary. Books. I love them. I love the way the ink smells on the pages when you crack that book for the first time. If I fall asleep with ink smudged fingers at night, I feel good. I just finished a couple of books. One in particular,

"In an Instant" . Bob and Lee Woodruff.

Editorial Reviews
Book Description

In one of the most anticipated books of the year, Lee Woodruff, along with her husband, Bob Woodruff, share their never-before-told story of romance, resilience, and survival following the tragedy that transformed their lives and gripped a nation.

In January 2006, the Woodruffs seemed to have it all–a happy marriage and four beautiful children. Lee was a public relations executive and Bob had just been named co-anchor of ABC’s World News Tonight. Then, while Bob was embedded with the military in Iraq, an improvised explosive device went off near the tank he was riding in. He and his cameraman, Doug Vogt, were hit, and Bob suffered a traumatic brain injury that nearly killed him.In an Instant is the frank and compelling account of how Bob and Lee’s lives came together, were blown apart, and then were miraculously put together again–and how they persevered, with grit but also with humor, through intense trauma and fear.

Here are Lee’s heartfelt memories of their courtship, their travels as Bob left a law practice behind and pursued his news career and Lee her freelance business, the glorious births of her children and the challenges of motherhood.Bob in turn recalls the moment he caught the journalism “bug” while covering Tiananmen Square for CBS News, his love of overseas assignments and his guilt about long separations from his family, and his pride at attaining the brass ring of television news–being chosen to fill the seat of the late Peter Jennings.

And, for the first time, the Woodruffs reveal the agonizing details of Bob’s terrible injuries and his remarkable recovery. We learn that Bob’s return home was not an end to the journey but the first step into a future they have learned not to fear but to be grateful for.In an Instant is much more than the dual memoir of love and courage. It is an important, wise, and inspiring guide to coping with tragedy–and an extraordinary drama of marriage, family, war, and nation.A percentage of the proceeds from this book will be donated to the Bob Woodruff Family Fund for Traumatic Brain Injury.

Please read this book. It brings to light a serious issue facing our nation, it's soldiers, it's families. People may not agree on the war in Iraq and they may not agree with why we are there or the policies of our leaders. It doesn't matter. Our men and women are still there. Support them. Supporting our soldiers is what matters. Freedom isn't free and the men and women who are there, in Iraq, they know this. Does your personal freedom depend on the war in Iraq? I don't know. I won't presume to guess either. What I do know is that a tyrant who murdered his people and tortured many more is now gone. Our men and women are there to help the ones left behind in the debris.They are there to help them put their lives back together. To gain their freedom. The daily struggles they face, both our soldiers and Iraq's citizens, will be a long and hard road.

I did not want to turn this into a "heavy" post, but I am compelled to say this-

Our men and women who are returning home with missing limbs, post traumatic stress disorders, brain injuries, and more, they need our help. They need OUR help. What can you do?

Sgt. Gonzalez from Alpha Company of 1/38 Infantry Regiment patrols Baqubah, Iraq, on Oct. 3.
ALEXANDER NEMENOV / AFP VIA GETTY IMAGES

Sand Key Tri Sprint - Sunday September 23

2007-09-25T13:27:00.000-04:00

After much consideration, I decided NOT to wear these to the Tri. I figured I didn't want any distractions for the athletes out in the water. A kayak just isn't suited for Dorothy Shoes.

That doesn't mean I don't understand the importance of a good Jelly Donut before working a Tri...afterall, if Blink and Bigun know how important they are...

This is me and Green Eyed Lady (after the race). We volunteered for Kayak support together. It really was a good time. GEL helped out a guy on his first open water swim. He had a little anxiety attack in the water. She followed him on the whole swim til he got out of the water. He finished the race.

Here we are with the rest of the crew of kayak support... except for Diane - she's taking the picture.

Green Eyed lady out on the water. The sun still wasn't up so some of the shots are a little dark.

While still on shore, we had a lady come up to ask us some questions. Her first swim in the Gulf. She was afraid of sharks. Turns out, the only shark we saw that day was Bigun.

That's me, ignoring all of the athletes for a photo op moment. I know, blurry - I need to fire my

Sherpa......well, it was his first time, maybe I'll forgive him. ;)

That is ExcelMan swimming briskly in the water.

That shoulder with the yellow jersey is ExcelMan again. The fellow on the board - lifeguard.

Sherpa got a pretty good shot here, but this is my blog. You would think he could have atleast gotten a good shot of me. If I weren't a "G" rated girl, I would have a choice name or two for my Sherpa Boy

ExcelMan pushing hard on the bike

Coming into transition

This guy's feet never touch the ground!!!

Okay, I know some people are vertically challenged. Quite a few of my friends are what we may call... well, short. So, I don't want to offend any one, but if this shot doesn't crack you up...

maybe this one will.

crossing the finish line- 2nd place in his group is ExcelMan

Here is the studly muffin birthday boy displaying his hard earned prize (sunday was his birthday) woohoo!! Go Libras!!!

This should explain why we call him ExcelMan.

yes, this was written on his forearm for the race. He copied it from an excel spread sheet he put together for his race. Swear.

Sherpa Boy - aka Bigun

It was a good day.

My Dorothy Shoes

2007-09-22T12:25:00.000-04:00

This is Lisa (you've seen pics of her daughter, Alex on the trampoline and plunging into the pool)

She bought me these for my birthday...

The box actually sizzled when I opened it. My toe polish just happens to match the shoes. I had the pedicure on Monday - without knowledge of the shoes, swear. Is that Karma or what?

The only problem was that I didn't have anything to wear with the shoes. So, I found this dress at Dillard's.

I figured since I had the shoes and the dress, I needed some place to wear them. So, here I am last night at the Pub with Laurie, Dawn and Kelly, our bringer of beverages at the pub.

I was going to show you my new red purse too, but TriDogMom posted hers the other day and frankly, my purse isn't even close to as hot as hers.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE my new shoes!! Wonder if I can wear them while kayaking tomorrow...

I'll be Right Back

2007-09-20T22:39:00.000-04:00

In case anyone is looking for me you can find me here.

This Past Week

2007-09-16T09:06:00.000-04:00

Out of Doors

I thought Betty Lou's optics resembled the two below

I had to go out
and "capture"

these two Pavarotti wanna be's

Bigun took this shot of the pair of musical prodigies

I had to get "my take" on them too

Here is the "calm before the storm" That big cloud on the left of the frame was the size of Earth and really black.

In the rain

This Family of cranes (juvenile on far right) kept their distance - Male kept an eye on me.

I love this shot of the cranes because when it is in full frame - it looks like an oil painting. The focus was just out of sharp. Cool effect.

The other side of the door...Anastasia

Ying and Yang

Beauty

and The Beast

2007-09-13T21:08:00.000-04:00

HAVE YOU CLICKED HERE YET?

Sand Key Sprint Tri

2007-09-11T18:38:00.000-04:00

Before I begin please let me say - Congratulations to all who raced at IM Louisville and IMWisconsin!! We are all so proud of all of you!!

This is where I will be in 2 weekends. Sand Key. Isn't that a beautiful view? Maybe you should join me...

Instead of finding me here on the sidelines taking pictures...

You'll have to look out here to find me.

That's right. I'll be volunteering on September 23 at the Sand Key Tri. ExcelMan is racing and I'll be part of the support crew along with my friend,( ExcelMan's wife) Green Eyed Lady.We'll be in kayaks beating athletes over the head if they try to hold on to our rigs for support! How fun is that? Okay, just kidding about the beating over the head part(I would never...). I am really looking forward to it. This will be the first race I get up at 0'dark thirty for that Bigun isn't competing in. Bigun will be the Sherpa for this race! I am so psyched about being out there giving support to the athletes in a different style. Bigun will need to man the cowbells that morning.

Before you leave ---click HERE