Come Link Up Your Best Post!

This is one of the places I've linked up to for tomorrow. Thanks goes to Frugality is Free for hosting such a great hop. Come join in the fun and link your most favorite/best blog post to the list! I can't wait to read everyone's posts! :)

For those who have died serving our country

...I humbly thank you.

Every time I say what I want to say, wear what I want to wear, go where I want to go, it is because of you, because of your sacrifice. How easily it could have gone the other way. But you didn't run, you volunteered, offered yourself up. You drew a line in the earth and held it. Pushing back those who would strip us of our rights. Rights...really they are a privledge, afforded us by our brave men and women in the armed services. Although it is a sentiment I carry deep within me every day of the year, today I want to take the opportunity to say it.

For those who have defended or are currently defending our country, for those who have died, for those missing and those being held captive- all in the name of freedom, I honor you. God Bless America and God Bless our Military.

Where's the Bacon?

So the last day of school is finally here! The kids have only a half day left today, where they will be jumping around in bounce houses and getting their faces painted. No exams, no homework, no nothing...a lovely stress free day! So in keeping with this laid back mentality, I refuse to do anything serious today. (Like I need an excuse to play hookie, hehe)

Several weeks ago a friend of mine posted a video to facebook that I watched, and loved so much, I tweeted it. Then I phoned Mom and Dad and had them watch it, too. They about died. I showed it to my kids and they adored it so much that they still ask to see it several times a week.

Anyway, it seems that everyone who has seen it has fallen in love. It's become the number one video on youtube. So chances are that you've already watched it. But I thought I'd post it here for those in need of a laugh.

For the life of me I couldn't find a way to link it directly through Andrew Grantham (the maker of this fab video), so here it is from another source.

You know me, I couldn't leave it with just the video. I dug up all sorts of stuff. This little puppy has a facebook page of his own and I also found some extra info about his life story. I included it all below.

Hope you all have a fabulous carefree Friday!

Clark's Facebook Page

Clark's Life Story

The creator of Ultimate Dog Tease

Featured on abc news:

Old Friends

Today I ran into someone I haven't seen in quite some time. She used to play a large part in my life but then things happened, bad things that I will never talk about on here (sorry), and I went into a hole.  She didn't like it when I fell into this pit of despair, she tried to talk me out, to pep me up, insisting things weren't as bad as they seemed. I hated her and her stupid positive attitude. So much so that when she would come near, I shunned her, ignored her, driving her away. And then one day she just sort of disappeared.

When I eventually realized she was gone, I felt sort of guilty, but then over time I convinced myself it was better this way. There was no room for her in my life anymore, and eventually, over time, I managed to mostly forget about her. It was only every so often that I'd catch a glimpse of her and a sense of nostalgia would sweep over me. I'd think about how it used to be, and I would miss it, yet I never did anything to make it better.

Lately I've been doing some soul searching. Trying to prioritize and get my life in order. Being a wife and mother is what's most important to me. I want to focus on this more and allow some of the fluff of my life to rank lower on the list.

This week I found my opportunity. I was going through e-mails and came across an invite to a MOP's block party. My friend who'd sent it is a considerate, kind gal who has asked me before to attend MOP functions, but I never could quite fit it into my schedule.

I'll admit that at first I was reluctant. I reasoned with myself that I'd gone down this path before with my older two children and it had been fun, however, it was a repeat of the past. Why go there again? But then on the flip side, maybe that is exactly what I needed, maybe a visit to the past would kick-start me in the right direction. I went ahead and RSVP'd.  MOP's focuses on Moms and their young children. What better way to do something for my kids than take them to the park for piñatas and hot dogs. I just knew they'd enjoy it.

So I headed out, got lost on the way (like always), called a friend for directions and finally made it. My friend who'd invited me, very graciously greeted me upon arrival and showed me the ropes, going out of her way to make me feel comfortable. In fact, everyone there was super nice...it was just like the old days.  I relaxed and found that I was actually enjoying myself, and that's when I ran into my old friend. It was myself. The old me. The one who thought life was good, that people were good. That positive side of me who saw the potential in even the silliest of things. And I welcomed that missing part of my personality with open arms, happy to find it again.  (I only hope I can hold onto myself better this time around).

Twisted Tuesday

If you'd stopped by my house last night at around 8 o'clock or so, you would have found me standing in my front yard, barefoot, staring at the swirling dark sky. Yes, I am one of those people who does the opposite of what I'm told to do. The second the tornado warning sirens went off, I tucked my children safely away, and then booked it outside to see what all the fuss was about. Dumb? Maybe. But I'd like to point out that quite a few of my neighbors were out there too, so, I don't feel all that bad about it. 

All day long, everywhere I went I'd heard chatter about the upcoming inclement weather. I sighed to myself and tried my best to get away from the voices. I hate playing the fear game. But it quickly became apparent that it was inescapable, from the checkout girl at Lowe's, to all of the beauticians at the hair salon, my friends, my friends friends, my family-the list goes on and on, everyone was freaking out! I suspect this had something to do with the recent destruction of Joplin. The tragedy is still very fresh in our minds.  So everyone was panicking, everyone that is, except for the Weather channel. I love the Weather channel, they are a voice of reason when the rest of us are running around yelling, "The sky is falling, the sky is falling!" (Not to say they're never wrong, no one's infallible after all).

Yesterday the Weather Channel predicted thunderstorms after 9pm, and my county was listed, along with tons of other counties, to be under a tornado watch. We always seem to be under some kind of warning. So this was no biggie. Or so I thought.

I wasn't expecting what greeted me when I walked out my front door last night. Did you know that clouds move to the East? I didn't-not until my hubby told me. I guess I'd never taken the time to notice. 

To the North of my house I found black clouds, full of lightening, moving in a westerly direction...West? And then to the West, there were dark clouds moving as they should, to the East. Freaky. I didn't know what it meant, but it looked ominous. 

I just want to say here, that my county was one of the lucky ones that weren't hit last night. We received a large dose of hail, thunder, lightening and rain, but other than that we skimmed by unscathed. But other counties weren't so lucky, Dallas, only thirty minutes away had several touch downs. 

After a while when my husband and I agreed that it was fruitless just standing there watching the sky, we went back inside. It was quiet and peaceful. Still tucked away, I found my four children right where I'd left them, surrounded by pillows and blankets, eating cookies and watching Toy Story 3 on the good ole ipad in the closet under the stairs. And in that moment it occurred to me how very blessed we are.  

(Just came across this video taken not too far from us. I noticed the time stamp is right around when I was staring at the sky in my front yard. From my vantage the sky looked just like this, with sirens blaring and everything. The twister forms to the right of the screen. Glad I didn't see this in person.)

Twilight Zone

It isn't one thing by itself, it's more of a culmination of different events, each building into this oddity of a week. As you already know if you've had a chance to follow my blog, due to a funeral, my parents came into town last week. They live over 17 hours away (by car) or six very expensive tickets (by air).  So because of this they are usually the ones who come to us, and we rarely get to see each other-maybe for a week out of the year if we're lucky.

 I loved having them here and I wished they didn't have to leave. But I must admit that when they sadly did go, I thought life would get back to normal. But it didn't, and still as of today hasn't returned to normal.

Last Saturday, the kids and I had plans to meet up with friends for boating, hiking, treasure hunts, campfire etc...My parents departed that same day, which cast a gloomy cloud over me. What felt like a short time after they left, I went to get cleaned up. After my shower, I noticed the time and realized it was already after 4pm. Standing there, staring at the clock like it had just given me horrific news, dripping water all over the floor from my wet head, I tried to figure out where the day had gone. I had told my friend we were going to be late, but six hours late? The fun had started at 10am, we'd practically missed everything. Could I be any more scatterbrained?

 It seemed this same cloud also plagued my kids because they were still in their pajamas, not yet ready for the day. So I did what had to be done and texted my friend who'd so sweetly put this little shin dig together to tell her it wasn't looking good (like she hadn't already figured this out).
Sigh...

Sunday was much of the same thing. I tinkered around with my blog some, did a little laundry, washed a few dishes, and when I looked up, the day was done.  Where did the time go? My hubby left for some Sunday night pick up ball, and I took the kids up for a bath. Rinsing soapy water from my 4 y/o's hair, I suddenly had that "oh, crap" feeling...Sunday was our anniversary-and for the first time ever, my hubby and I both forgot all about it. Not good, not good at all. And to top it off, I then remembered I'd also missed my friend's b-day the day before.
Monday was as discombobulated as the days leading up to it, and here I am today wondering if when I look up from this post I will find evening has fallen. Will I ever break free of this cooky haze?

I'm curious, do you ever have days like this, or am I the only one stuck here in this Twilight Zone?

Blog Bash 2011

The Buck Stops Here

I like to think my dad and I have a pretty good relationship. In general, our time together is spent teasing and cajoling. Really picking on each other with equal amounts of caustic humor and biting sarcasm.   Time well spent in my opinion. Honestly, we're cut from the same cloth, ornery, plain and simple. 

Yesterday we were in rare form. One of my ongoing jokes included flipping everything back to him, blaming him for it. Anything that went wrong, I laid at his feet. From losing Mom at the grocery store, to the ill picked restaurant at lunch, to tussles that occurred over fifteen years ago. It was rather amusing-really (you had to be there).
Dad took it in stride, chuckling, shooting it right back. Fun times!


But later I got to thinking, as I tend to do every once in a while. I wondered to myself what it was about this ongoing joke that I found so entertaining? 


I determined it's the irony of it. Pointing the finger and blaming some one else for my own shortcomings. Who really does this? It's preposterous, right?  


Ohhh, this hit a nerve, reminding me of a real pet peeve of mine. So today I've dug out my soap box, polished it up and took my place stage center. Look out! I'm getting ready to rant!

Yes, the blame game is preposterous, but neglecting to take responsibility for our own decisions seems to have become more of the norm than not. I've come to realize that a good amount of our society is more likely to blame someone else for their poor choices, refusing to see themselves as anything but blameless when the poo hits the fan. Somehow they come out pristine, flawless, so quick to turn the fan away from themselves and onto those around them. 


My own darling children have been guilty of this nasty name blaming habit, or um, poo tossing. And of course, it's almost always directed my way.  As their mother, I have heard it all, accused of anything you can think of, but mostly for items that have gone MIA, things, by the way, that I rarely come in contact with. Missing backpacks, lost goggles, lost hairbrushes, lost toothbrushes, missing lunch boxes, even tripping over untied shoe laces (11 y/o). 


I've only just skimmed the surface, honestly, this goes much, much deeper. It's bizarre. I've been blamed for everything from bad weather to dropped ice-cream cones. As if I can manipulate mother nature into opening the sky and purging massive amounts of rain, or use telekinesis to tip ice cream cones from their hands onto the sidewalk below. While it's true that Supermom has mad skills, I haven't quite mastered mind over matter. Yet. :P 


What's worse is that I can't figure out motive. WHY?? would I want to spread misfortune? Logic people, logic. 


I'm of the school of thought that we each need to man up and own our decisions, whether good and bad. I've eaten my fair share of humble pie over the years-and I deserved every bite. But my kiddos don't seem to have this same kind of outlook. Have I somehow messed them up?


I've always been a big believer in natural consequences. What better way to teach our kids without having to make up a ton of extra rules. When experienced in a safe environment, making their own decisions is a terrific way for a child to learn and grow, to sometimes screw up, but also to realize it was their own doing. 


Teach them and then allow them the opportunity to spread their wings and fly. I think that after the age of eight, I've done my job when it comes to the basics. Getting dressed, personal hygiene, keeping track of their own belongings...etc. They know what is expected of them. If they forget to wear their belt to school they may lose a recess,  if they forget their morning snack, they might go hungry until lunch. Both uncomfortable, unpleasant consequences for my kiddo's, but without permanent damage.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about sending them out into the street to learn about the danger of cars. Obviously, this could end quite badly, and would indeed be my fault. And I would own it. 


I'm not sure what I can do differently to make my children more responsible. Any ideas or suggestions are very welcome!  

Work Undone

I'm finding it difficult to get any kind of work done today. Mostly because my mom (who's in town this week, yay!) is sitting next to me with her laptop on her knees, "working" while chattering about all kinds of minutia. Including how she has a bad butt. (numb from all the traveling, I suppose)


Hmmm, kids running circles around me, screaming (yes, with baskets on their heads),  aren't capable of infiltrating my deep concentration-but my mom? Well that's a different matter. She speaks and my ears automatically perk up. I'm like Pavlov's dog, salivating at the sound of a bell. Moms must have some kind of sonar device implanted in their voices that penetrate the soundest of minds.


What the? ..Thirty minutes just elapsed between the last line I wrote and now.  She sucked me in again. One second I'm working on here and the next I'm involved in a highly detailed tale about...well I can't tell you that, it's a family secret. (wink, wink)


I can't work this way. It's enough to make a person crazy!

You know what? I take life far too seriously. I'm knocking off of here so I can focus my attention on bugging my mom. I'm going to wait for just the right moment, when she's fully engrossed in one of her spreadsheets, and then I'm going to ask her how her butt feels.

Hopping the blogs

So I've noticed lately that my follower list needs a little plumping. I've sort of neglected this side of my blog, I've been enjoying the writing part far too much. And although I don't mind talking to myself (ask anyone, it's true) it would be nice to have a few more voices in here other than my own. In light of this, I'm devoting this post to seeking out other gals who are like minded. If you're coming off a blog hop please leave a comment with your blog address letting me know.  I'll swing by and do the same! Happy Hopping!!

Today I Will Live

I don't want to think about it...but it's all I can see. The swallow of Diet Coke tastes of sorrow in my mouth. The world somehow looks and feels different, as if I'm watching through a magnify glass.  Every gesture sharp, each word profound. I guess it's because I'm so dumbstruck, and at the same time, so sad.

I'm struggling today, but this isn't about me. It's about the people who loved him the most. His two daughters, his wife, his brothers and his sister. I never had the luxury of knowing my uncle very well, I was far too transient for that kind of thing and so we never laid ties. Not real ones, not the kind that draw you together at Christmas and Thanksgiving, not the kind that have you at the post office mailing birthday cards.

Death changes everything.

I was barely a part of his life, but I will miss my uncle. An intimidating guy, when he retired from the Air Force, he went to work for the U.S. Post Office. To me, he was always so serious, sort of scary. But looking back, I think he had a quirky sense of humor that was lost on me as a child. I think...that's all.  I'll never get to know.  My uncle left this world at 2 am this morning.

The world didn't stop.

It's a phenomenon, isn't it? The way you and I know our days are numbered, and yet, we have the ability to shove that from our heads and go about our everyday business. Each of us pretending that it's all good.

Tomorrow that veil of unawareness will slip back into place, blinding me to my own mortality. It's better that way, I suppose.

But not today. Today I will do for my uncle what he can no longer do for himself. Today when I hug my children, I will squeeze a little tighter.  I will linger with my husband. I will take the time to admire the sky and to savour the sweet scent of the air. I will live each moment as if it were my last. Today I will live.

Do You Know The Secret To A Lasting Relationship?

... I do! At least, it's a secret that has helped me and my husband hang on in the hardest of times. I hope it will help you too!

Thirteen years ago this month, two crazy kids took the dive into this scary ocean called marriage.  At first we were strong swimmers. In these calm loving waters we stayed next to each other, careful not to let the other fall behind or get too far ahead. We were considerate and loving, valuing our spouse above ourselves.  This is the way a marriage begins, and if you've been married for any length of time, you know what I'm talking about.  Some of the signs may be: puppy dog eyes, tons of PDA, and the constant use of terms such as 'snuggle bunny' and 'love muffin'.  It's the phase in a marriage that makes everyone around you want to throw up. I adore this phase. But that's all it is...a phase.

Because no matter what you do, no matter who you are, the novelty will eventually wear off, and the way they loudly chew their food, or the way they pick their toenails, well, it isn't as cute as it used to be.  In fact, it's actually rather annoying. But you trudge on, swimming next to each other still, though keeping a little more distance than before.

And then one day those placid calm waters turn stormy and dark. Trust me they always do.  Maybe someone loses their job, money gets tight, maybe a parent dies. You name it, all kinds of life experiences can lead up to this point.

It's a frightening thing to look over and see your spouse flailing, or to find you yourself falling behind, unable to swim on, shoved back by the waves of life at its rawest.  This is the place where you may be asking yourself if this person is worth it? Do you still want them to swim by your side? You're thinking, "You know, that thing they said the other day really hurt, I'm not even sure I like them, let alone want to spend the rest of my life with them".

And here's the secret that has kept me and my husband on course. It's our motto, and at times I'm positive we've both said it out loud to each other, as well as to ourselves.  We were taught this in Engaged Encounter and it really works. But you both have believe it with all your heart.


"Love is a decision, not just a feeling." 
  
This may or may not seem like a no brainer.  Maybe some of you are thinking, "Well, duh, I already knew that."

Well, if you already knew, then I say congratulations, your marriage is in excellent shape. You will be one of those people who reach back and grab your partner by the hand, not allowing them to be swept away from your side. Refusing to give up. You will realize that there will be times in your marriage when you don't like your spouse.  Marriage is not perfect. People are not perfect. When you want to leave, you won't, because you'll have the foresight to know that if you make the decision to love, it will be the best decision you ever made.

And you will have to make this decision over and over.  My husband, bless his heart, I know that at times he wonders what the heck he's doing with this lunatic.  I have enough flaws for both of us.  But he sticks it out. As do I.

Sometimes we have to search for each other in the storm, but we're always there, our hand stretched out to help the other.

Human love is not perfect, but each time we make the decision to weather the hard times, I've noticed that once the tumultuous waters settle, we are in a more beautiful place than ever before.  It's worth it to hang in there because in the end I always find the man I fell in love with in the first place, and I'm always thankful for it.

(I'm linked to Marriage Mondays)

Grace Ruined Cont.

I have good news and I have bad news, dear readers. Which would you like to hear first?  The good news, you say? Excellent choice! The good news (drum roll please): This evening I added to Grace Ruined, (link can be found over on the right hand side of the page). I also made some revisions, but as I was linking the file, I saw a few errors in my writing, it's maddening, maddening I tell you!!!  Sigh... Oh, by the way, that wasn't the bad news, not the official bad news, anyway.  The real bad news is that I only added a small amount.

Before you start complaining I just want to say something in my defense....okay, this is really just a lame excuse, but it's the truth. This whole bit of writing without any fantasy based characters is really taking it out of me! Where are the mummies? Or the fairies pinching people on the ear? As my protagonist walks down the street its all I can do not to have a werewolf leap out and scare her half to death.  But I know how this story is going to end and I want to write it. So I apologize if my slooooowness is hard on you. Please just keep in mind that "I'm givin' it all I got!" (said with a scottish accent).  With that, I'm signing off, I've become punch drunk on the late hour, and seem to be, um, speaking nonsense....

SINK OR SWIM

A few days ago, my two eldest joined the ranks of our local swim team, the Dolphins.  My hubby and I thought it would be a great opportunity for them, especially with summer quickly approaching. This way they won't be lying around, completely useless, like chimps languishing in the hot summer sun.  For two hours each morning they will be doing something productive.  They even have friends on the team.  Really, it's a win-win situation.

Unfortunately, not everyone shared my sentiments. After explaining the amazing plans for this summer, I was met with mixed reactions.  The eight-year-old was mostly excited about the news, happy to see her buddies and thrilled by the prospect of competing against other kids.  The eleven-year-old, well, let's just say he wasn't amused. To him this was yet another lame thing Mom was demanding from him.

I can still remember what it was like to be a kid, so I can understand how he feels.  Summer time is for sleeping in, staying up late, eating homemade ice cream, and camping out. Not for getting up at the butt-crack of dawn to go swim laps in some lousy pool for hours on end. Not to mention the meets scheduled for every single Saturday.  I'll admit that it won't be easy, it's a commitment that will take up a good part of their summer. But regardless of how he feels, he's getting his hiney out of bed and he's going.  (That's the neat thing about being a mom, it makes me the boss.)

So after school on Tuesday we drove over to the pool.  As always, we arrived in style, with a screaming two-year-old on Mom's hip, a four-year-old attached to Mom's leg, complaining to anyone who'd listen that she never gets to go swimming, an eight-year-old tugging her one piece from her rear, unhappy that Mom wouldn't allow her to wear that one bikini that hasn't fit her properly since three seasons past, and a sulky eleven-year-old, muttering things under his breath.

The older two went off to try out for the swim team, leaving yours truly with the pleasure of filling out hundreds of release forms.  This is where things took a turn for the worse.  Sensing an opportunity, my two year old seized it, pitching the biggest fit I've ever seen--which is really saying something.  On the floor, arms and legs flailing, purple faced, all out screaming his favorite phrase of the month: "LEGGO ME, LEGGO ME!!!" Trust me, no one was touching him, anyone within a twenty foot radius was far too busy either running away, or pressing themselves against the further most walls of the small office. He was behaving like a little demon, I half expected his head to spin around 360 degrees, like Emily Rose in The Exorcist.  

I felt mildly uncomfortable with this, I must admit. When tantrums occur at home, I simply step over the child, ignoring them till they realize their fit is only an exercise in futility.  A method that doesn't work so well out in public.  It never ceases to amaze me how after all I've been through with my kids, they can still make me flush with embarrassment at times.

In a hurry, I scribbled illegible answers on the papers, shoved them at the frightened looking teenage girl behind the counter, and evacuated the three of us to the pool area.  This is where the two-year-old made a mad dash for the cool blue water. (This whole swimming venture was shaping up to possibly be one of the worst ideas I've ever had) I barely stopped him before he leapt in there!  I swatted his bum and then carried him, kicking and screaming to where my friends were sitting at a table across the way.  Of course, having kids of their own, they thought all of this was hilarious.  They welcomed me as I plopped down, exhausted. The two-year-old wriggled out of my lap and went out the back sliding doors to play with other kids in the muddy grass.

As I sat there, catching my breath, I realized, like with most things involving child rearing, this wasn't going to be easy for any of us. But the best things in life, oftentimes, are the ones that challenge us the most.  I would never ask my children to do more than I'm willing to do myself, and I make a point of sticking to my decisions.  Hopefully my kids will adopt this same mentality along the way.

Swim on my little dophins, swim on, Mama's right behind ya....


Philippians 4:13 - I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Do You Believe in Signs?

I am being haunted, or maybe a better word for it is stalked.  They wait until I leave my house each morning and then they follow me, leaping out when I least expect it. It all began around a year ago, during the time I was writing the second novel in my Bittersweet series.  There came a scene where I needed to give one of my characters a symbol, something they wore on their person.  After extensive online research I finally selected a cardinal.  It was the perfect fit, picked for its dual meaning, both bird and ordained catholic bishop.

Before I go any further, I want to point out that I am not a superstitious person. I don't believe in all that hogwash about black cats and broken mirrors or spilt salt. Okay, I'll admit I do throw spilt salt over my left shoulder and I do avoid walking under ladders - but that's it, just those two things. So I guess on a scale of one to ten I might rank a three.  Anyway, the point here is that the very next day I saw a cardinal fly across the street as I was driving the kids to school. Never once in the ten years I've driven down this road have I noticed the eye catching red of any cardinals. But since I'd only just written about them the night before, I figured I was merely more aware of them now.  You know how we do that sometimes?  Like when you're pregnant and suddenly it seems as if every woman you come across is pregnant, too?

On the way home another cardinal crossed my path.  I blew it off, I'd obviously unsettled the bird when I'd come barreling down the road. The next day it was the same thing, one sole cardinal darting quickly across the front of my car.  The following morning it happened yet again. While not totally bizarre it did warrant a phone call to my mother.  She loves this kind of stuff. A few days later she phoned to let me know that she'd come across a cardinal standing in the middle of the road, demanding her attention. Then she asked me if I was writing.

Her question is what made me sit up and take notice.  Could it be possible that this was a sign?  Nah, I was more apt to believe it was pure coincidence, and nothing more.  Surely most people have at least one cardinal cross their path each day.  Right? As time wore on the cardinal sightings became more commonplace, prompting me, reminding me of the job left undone.  I'd drive straight home and write. It was the day one of those striking red birds flew right outside my drivers side window, keeping pace with me for several hundred feet, so close that if I'd wanted, I could have reached out and touched it, that I finally began to believe.  Something was at work here, something bigger than me.  These birds were behaving far too strangely to continue shrugging them off.

Stranger still, after I completed the third Bittersweet novel and shifted my attention to a new series, the cardinals abruptly disappeared. Here one day and gone the next. After months and months of being swarmed, they were nowhere to be found.

However, the reprieve was short lived.  Three months later (last month, actually) I finished the first two novels of my new series and decided to focus my attention on revisions before beginning another project. One morning I noticed a cardinal flying across the street near my kid's school.  My children hadn't seen any of our red feathery friends in so long that its very presence made their day.  I dropped them at school and then headed home.  Rounding a corner, I found myself slamming on the breaks.  Not one, but two of those critters were standing there, right in my lane.  Surprisingly, they didn't fly away at my approach.  This led into a weird sort of stand off.  Weird because I'd drawn so close that I couldn't even see them past the hood of my car.  What were they playing at?  After about thirty seconds, one of the birds flew into a nearby bush, and then a few seconds later the other one flew to a tree on the other side of the street.  I swear they were watching me with their beady black eyes as I hightailed it out of there. They've been everywhere ever since, seeking me out, making themselves known.

So it would appear they've returned. After all this time I'm still not sure what they mean, if anything.  Maybe they're here to slowly drive me to madness (it's not a long trip, I promise you that!), or maybe to get me back on track.  Who knows?  But the one thing I do know is they began to plague me while I was working on that book.  Maybe this is the key I've been looking for.  I guess I could finish the fourth and final Bittersweet novel.  Perhaps then my little stalkers will find someone new to harass... :)

Got Him!

This morning, New York Post's main headline simply reads: "Got Him!" 

May 1st,  2011, almost ten years after the 9/11 tragedy that rocked America's very foundation, Osama bin Laden has been brought to justice. Our very own Navy Seals swept in and ended his life, an evil reign has finally come to an end. 

Do you remember that sunny day, the one that changed everything? 

When I was a kid I never understood how so many people could recall in such great detail exactly where they were and what they were doing the day JFK was assassinated.  But I've come to realize that devastating events tend to immediately sear into our brains.  There's no way to forget and nor should we.  September 11th, 2001 will forever be burned into us, so catostrophic that the scars will never blend away.  However, bin Laden's death somehow serves as a salve, it takes a tiny bit of the sting out, soothing some of the burning pain.  After all these years, America has stopped holding her breath, if only for the moment.

Like so many others, I remember that day, waking up with the news on (like always), I opened my eyes, sat up in bed, and watched live as the second plane hit the twin towers.  I couldn't fathom what I was seeing, I honestly thought it was old footage of some other time, some other place.  It never crossed my mind that this was happening here, on U.S. soil.  It was unthinkable.  America is a sanctuary, a haven, home of the brave.  Acts of terror take place elsewhere, not here, not ever.  That day we lost so much, we lost precious lives and at the same time we lost a sense of freedom.  My heart goes out to those who were robbed of their loved ones and friends.  Al qaeda mapped a path of destruction so far and wide, few could escape it.  The stress and horror of it trickled down to each and everyone of us, manifesting itself in different ways.  For myself, the stress ate at me, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get away from it.  I've often wondered if the baby I was carrying at the time was lost because of this.  I still mourn that unborn child.  We were all robbed that day, we all mourn.  So who could blame us for being overcome with joy at the news of bin Laden's death?

I watched on in the early hours as Americans rejoiced in the streets.  And I wanted to celebrate with them, to step into my television and find myself in Times Square, punching my fist in the air with triumph, smiling and crying tears of happiness.  

Let's be frank, shall we?  Bin Laden was a wicked, terrible man, motivated by hatred.  What a relief it is to finally be rid of such a source of evil. But as much as I disliked him and everything he stood for, as I watched my fellow Americans flocking to the streets, grinning and cheering "USA" over and over, I was suddenly overcome with grief.  Not for bin Laden's death, trust me, I find great comfort in the fact that he's gone.  No, my grief was for us. For Americans.  Because the scene playing out on my television set was so uncannily similar to footage I've seen of certain Middle Eastern countries rallying against us, celebrating the murder of our people, thrilled by our demise.  Scenes that have sickened me over the years.  What are we becoming?  I, for one, don't want to be like them.  Rejoicing in death.  No, we should rise above it, lead the way, set the example.  Somehow it feels as if bin Laden is still winning, as if by giving into this primal side, we're just like him. I don't want to give him that, he's already taken enough. 

And let's not forget that this isn't over, we still have a long way to go.  America will take in a few more deep breaths and then continue in her plight to free our world of tyrants and oppressors. On the news last night, Tim Brown, a heroic firefighter who managed to survive 9/11,  spoke of bin Laden's end. "This is symbolic, but it certainly doesn't end the war on terror. " To which the news anchor agreed and replied, "This takes out the head of the snake, but the snake can still writhe for a long time." 

Al qaeda still exists and still needs to be dealt with.  I pity them on some level, one thing about us Americans, we never give up and we never stay down.  America will prevail, and though much that was lost cannot be replaced, with each step we take, we slowly recover the sense of freedom stolen that day not so long ago.