My son, My hero

I keep walking through the living room pinching myself. Yes, he really is home. It's three in the afternoon and he's sacked out on the couch. What a beautiful sight. Daredevil came home on the red eye flight from California. I keep walking in there and peeking at him like he's a newborn just home from the hospital. I'm trying really hard not to snuzzle him and kiss his sweet forehead. Babies respond positively to that but I'm guessing a 21 year old wouldn't. So, I resist my impulses.

It's been seven months since I have seen him. I miss him and his brothers terribly. Fortunately, we live in a great technological time and communication is frequent. I feel for the wives and mothers of yesteryear that would have to wait months and months to hear from their loved ones. I go crazy after one week.

Why I blog

While I haven't been a habitual blogger, more like an intermittent one lately, today was a great example of why I blog. It's because of the wonderful people you meet. It is so easy to get discouraged with mankind when all you hear is the negative crap on the news. Through blogging I have met some wonderful people. Some I only know through blogs and e-mails. Some through phone calls and a few in person.

One special blogger came to the aid of our country today, so to speak. You see, the Air Force sent Improviser to Oklahoma. He was really bummed out. " What the hell is in Oklahoma?" It turns out a really wonderful lady and her family. Improviser is almost literally stationed in Rave's backyard. She went to the base and hauled him back to her house for the day. He is hanging out with Girlie playing Halo.

I've never had the pleasure of meeting Rave in person yet. We've spoken on the phone, swapped comments and e-mails but now my son is hanging out with her and her family. I love the era we live in. I can sit at home and make friends across the country and even the world. (And yes, I know my neighbors too. Though, I will admit not near as well as I know some of my online friends.)

Thank you Rave. You are a very special person. I hope one day I get to hang out with you.

Nineteen years

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHOWHOUND!!

Boss Lady

This is Rue. Twelve lbs of pure terror and sass. She bosses my 112 lb lab around. If you don't have size then you must have attitude.

Hidden Florida Treasures

I've been browsing through my digital photos trying to decide which ones to print and scrapbook. In the process, I've realized that Florida has a variety of things to offer. Florida is known for it's beaches. But, it has a lot of rivers too. These places are off the beaten path. Florida has some spectacular state parks. I suspect not a lot of people know about these gems. I'm fortunate to live near some beautiful places that are just day trips. I'm a state park junkie. I love them. They are usually well maintained and absolutely breathtaking.

I took the following photos in 2004 at O'Leno State Park.

"Located along the banks of the scenic Santa Fe River, a tributary of the Suwannee River, the park features sinkholes, hardwood hammocks, river swamps, and sandhills. As the river courses through the park, it disappears underground and reemerges over three miles away in the River Rise State Preserve. One of Florida's first state parks, O'Leno was first developed by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) in the 1930s. The suspension bridge built by the CCC still spans the river."

The Civilian Conservation Corps did a lot of incredible work that is still standing today. It was President Roosevelt's way of putting men to work during the great depression. I hope our current President finds a way of adding beauty while benefiting our economy. The stone work is astounding. I see it in a lot of the parks that the CCC helped build. These men weren't afraid of hard work. They worked hard for their families. It is what built America. We, as Americans, need to remember that and not let their hard work be for naught.












This is where the river disappears. It appears again at River Rise Preserve.

flashbacks

Mrs. Who's son, Eraserhead, posted a photo of a tux reject. I nearly peed myself. That was my date's tux to the prom. The photo is faded and doesn't do justice to brightness of the baby blue tux. After all the prom was 28 years ago. Holy Shit. That just hit me like a ton of bricks. Almost thirty years. Damn.



**Sidenote to Mrs. Who---Aren't you jealous?! This could have been your date. No need to thank me. I've been cussing myself for my stupidity all these years.

A little background to those who aren't in the know. The fellow in blue with the mutton chops is my ex-husband and the father of my boys. He was "dating" Mrs. Who when I met him and he dumped her for me. Yeah, I have great luck. That was in 1980. She and I stumbled upon each other here in blog land and started comparing lives and low and behold we had a connection. The story really is hilarious and shows how small this world is.

Warning--no negative comments about my dress. You can laugh at the Ex all you want. Believe me, I am. You can even laugh at my Farrah hair-do. The dress is off limits. My mother made it without a pattern. My sister had modeled one exactly like it in a fashion show and she fell in love with it. But, we could not afford luxury's like a store bought prom dress. So, she studied it the night of the fashion show, made notes, shopped for material and went home and made a pattern. My sister wore it to her prom in 1979. It was fitted for my sister and obviously I don't fill it out. It was like putting a stick in where an hour glass had been. But, I still treasure it anyhow. I was so proud to wear it. I wish I had her talent for sewing. I didn't appreciate it at the time but she made the majority of our clothes all the way up to when I started high school and she got a job. Any store bought clothes I owned were hand-me-downs or the few treasured presents at Easter, Christmas and back to school. My mom even made our bathing suits and underwear. Enough of memory lane.

To the Who family: Thanks for the flashback. And Eraserhead, don't wear anything but black unless you want to look back in 30 years and laugh your ass off.

Starting off with a bang

Bang! Screech! Bang!

I hear pounding overhead this morning.

Yeah! I'm getting a new roof!

I love my insurance company.

Economic Stimulus

I've read the highlights of the Economic recovery act in the papers. It's a list about 2 pages long. I was curious about what all was in the entire Stimulus bill. So, I googled it. Holy Crap! It's 407 pages long. I bet only a handfull of our Congress actually read the entire thing. I know I can't. I was mind boggled by page 4. I scrolled and scrolled looking at all the spending. I haven't gotten to the part of how it is funded. I live under a rock so if it's been on the news I've missed it. But, I'm pretty sure it's going to come from my paycheck.

I'm still trying to figure out how an extra $13 per week in my take home pay is going to encourage me to spend. I've already been cut back to 36 hours per week. The stimulus money doesn't even pay me back one hour. But, if I buy an automobile by the end of the year I can write off the sales tax. If I can find a dealer willing to sell me a car so that my payments are $52 a month then I'll appreciate the tax credits and be willing to go further in debt.

I'm not seeing how this stimulus is going to stimulate anything. From the quick look at the Bill, it looks like most of the jobs it creates are government jobs. That I means I have more people to support.

Yes, I'm skeptical.

Saying goodbye, again

I received word last night that my step-father died. Last month. Here we go again. Two fathers. Two months apart. A month passed before I heard of either of their deaths.

I'm still struggling with the delayed bereavement of my father. That news was devastating. He was a good man. I never saw a bad side to him. I grieved openly. I told people what happened. I talked about it. I wrote an obituary and had it published Thanksgiving Day. I had the utmost respect for my father. While it was hard hearing the news, it was easy grieving the loss.

But this news is conflicting. My walls go up. This is a man I loved and hated to extremes at the same time. I saw and experienced the best and worst of him. I was four when he came into our lives. My mom divorced my Dad in July of 1968 and married my Step-dad in November of the same year. I turned four ten days before they were married. The young and the innocent love immediately. They know no different. They know God's love. Unconditional.

I've blogged on the abuse that I suffered at this man's hands. But, I knew another side to him too. The kind and gentle side. A giving caring person that never turned away from someone in trouble. I've fought to reconcile my feeling towards him. I've learned it's okay to love the person but hate what they do. I forgave him a long time ago because forgiveness is for yourself not for the other person. It releases the anger, the hurt, the shame, the humiliation. I empowers your soul again.

But, now how do I grieve. The conflicts surface again. The walls come up. People don't understand. They don't want to hear that you can love someone who does terrible things. Especially to children. So, I grieve in silence. I don't talk to everyone like I did when my Dad passed.

My step-father had dementia. I last saw him about four years ago when he was put in the first Nursing home. He was alert when I got there. He was delighted to see me. But, I found I was still guarded. I was forty years old but still felt like a child. We talked for a while and I pushed him down the halls. Then after a while, he was somewhere else. It didn't seem like a good place either. As I was leaving I asked if there was anything else I he needed before I left. He nodded and asked him he could have a hug. I froze. I hugged him like you hug a stranger. Then I left. That was the last time I saw him or spoke to him. He died alone.

On the road again

Improviser's leave is almost up. We are heading out this morning. He has to be in Mississippi tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to the goodbye.

Too many goodbyes already. Chowhound left Monday.

So, once again it will be me and the dog.

What's bad this time is that I don't have a "I'll see you in ____ date". After MCT, Chowhound will go directly to Norfolk, VA, for six months of school. Improviser finishes his school in mid February and then will be attached to the Combat Communications Group out of Oklahoma. Daredevil is scheduled to return from Iraq in April but he will return to California. I'm sure he will come home on leave afterward but this is not definite. So, I am left with a "I'll see ya" but I don't know when.

Happy New Year

In the New Year, may your right hand always be stretched out in friendship, never in want. (Irish toast)


Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each New Year find you a better man*. (Ben Franklin)

*or woman, person, human or whatever you want to insert.

Keep 'em waiting

Tomorrow Chowhound leaves. So, he made plans for us to meet his Dad and brother at a local sports bar to chow down on some grub and shoot some pool. I'm in my bathroom getting ready. Suddenly, above the roar of the blow dryer, I hear Brad Paisley bellowing out "Waiting on a Woman".

That child is such a brat sometimes.

Moonpies, Peaches, and Pelicans: New Years Southern Style

Yes, Mobile, Alabama is going to drop an electronic moonpie at midnight this year. The materials include:

• 1200-1500 golf ball-size clear lights;
• Eight sheets of 2-by-2 square aluminum tubing;
• Ten sheets of plywood;
• Massive amount of banana colored mache;

They are also serving a four foot moonpie. It has six pounds of chocolate icing and fourteen pounds of marshmallow.

They chose moonpies because of their connection with Mardi Gras. They throw moon pies at Mardi Gras. You've never been to a real southern parade until you've been beaned in the head with a moonpie. My thought is that if I were drinking, the last thing I would want to eat would be a moonpie. That makes for some nasty stuff to come up.

Not to be left out, Pensacola is also launching their unique celebration. While New York has their ball drop and Atlanta has the peach drop, Pensacola is proud to stake claim to the one-and-only Pelican drop. When I heard they were having a pelican drop. I immediately thought of WKRP's Turkey drop. "As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly."

Back in 2004 right before Hurricane Ivan came to town, Pensacola had decorated Pelican's set out around town. My sister and I Pelican hunted for the day. Here are a couple of my favorites:





Moonpies, Peaches, and Pelicans. The South knows how to ring in the new year.

Christmas Spirit

Christmas was great.

Family.

Food.

Fun.

Laughter.

Lots and Lots of laughter.

All day long.

I needed that.

Christmas Stinks

I heard this on the radio this morning and immediately pictured VW's boys doing and singing this.


I then discovered there are all kinds of Christmas farting songs.



Merry Christmas. I hope your's doesn't stink.

The check is in the mail

Unfortunately, it isn't mine.

I took the mail out of the mailbox. Ripped open the envelope. And had a fricken heart attack. A check for $100,000. An actual legitimate check. Except it's not to me. Right address, wrong person. It's to the City. But, mailed to my address. Why I haven't a clue. I've lived here for six years. Someone up above has a very warped sense of humor.

'Cause that shit ain't even funny. Don't worry. It will go back. I will do the right thing. But, damn that would have been a great Christmas present.

I'm off to go pout some more.

My Newest Marine

Chowhound is officially a PFC in the USMC. The graduation yesterday was held outside. It was cold but not unbearable. The ceremony was moving.

The first stop off the Island was at McDonald's for a sweet tea and to change clothes. He would have changed in the parking lot and car like his brother did but we were in a little more visible area than last year.

The only significant change I have noticed is he eats faster. He always savored his food. The first to start and the last to finish. That is no longer. I laughed at him last night sucking down steak and potatoes. I don't think he even chewed. I reminded him he wouldn't get yelled at now if he didn't eat fast enough. He laughed. I don't think he realized how fast and focused he was at eating.

It's good to have him home even if it's only for 17 days. Next weekend we will bring Improviser home for the holidays. The only missing will be Daredevil. He won't be home until April. He does call pretty often. Both Improviser and Daredevil called yesterday to congratulate their little brother. That was heartwarming.

So, now between my sister and I, we have our own little militia. We have 4 Marines and one Airman. Nobody better mess with us.

My New Airman

Isn't he handsome? Improviser is officially an Airman. He is glad to be finished with Basic Training. He will be home for Christmas. Yeah!

A dream that I wish hadn't come true

I still trying to wrap my mind around this whole ordeal. I knew my Dad's wife was evil and I guess I knew in my heart what she would do, but still it baffles me that someone can be so cruel. My Dad died and she did not tell any of his family. Not his two brothers and sister. Not his four daughters. She has contact information. It's not like she couldn't have gotten in touch with one of us or all of us. The ultimate control and isolation. She didn't even invite his family to honor him at his memorial service. He died Oct. 25 and we didn't find out until Nov. 17. We were told after his memorial service. That was mean. It was mean to my Dad. It was mean to us. How can someone be so heartless and cruel.

Several months ago I vividly dreamed this exact situation occurred. I dreamed it not once but twice. Both times I woke up in tears. I can't remember the details now but I woke up crying because I found out my Dad had died and she didn't tell us. Now, that is exactly what happened.

Dad, I love you with all my heart. I always have and I always will. I am glad you are finally away from her. I am sorry that you had to die to do it. I wish I had done more for you. You deserved to have a happy life. I am so sorry. I love and miss you.

No words can describe what I feel

Dad
July 7, 1934 - Oct. 25, 2008