Let me introduce

Beth Hart.

I have been a long time fan, and have reconnected lately. Anyway, Here is Beth...

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Popeye

Some problems aren't as bad if you don't think you have them........

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Sunday is for animal TV............

Monday is for remembering what you have learned....

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Hmmmm....a correction....

The Hubby told me today that my post about his weight loss was not technically correct. It is not a modified version of Atkins, it is a Modified version of The Zone!

He told me this, and in the same conversation he said....."I farted just before I got out of the truck, so I left the doors open for ventilation"....

How is it I sometimes get things confused? Brain damage maybe?

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Grandpa

I was talking to Grandpa Sunday night. I find that in our conversations, he tells me the same things as he did in the last call, and every once in a while he says something new. I don't mind hearing the same things over and over at all, in fact, I am quite happy that he remembers so much. I think it is just his short term memories that are a little foggy. I also find in our conversations, that we are getting to know each other very well. In the past, we had a pretty good relationship, but one with no real depth. Lately though, we are both becoming more open, more honest, more true. It is hard for me to explain, but I think that I have come to realize that he actually sees me for who I am. He accepts me as a grown man, with values and opinions that are not exactly like his. I say this to explain something further about our relationship, not really to point out some personal revelation. My point is, that I think he looks to me as someone different then family, but still family. Still trustworthy, still forgiving, still understanding, still blood.

Let me digress. My family is built of like minds. Generation, after generation following the lines of life that their parents did before them. I, on the other hand, like my Aunt P, have walked a different path. Flashbacks in my mind constantly remind me of the labels for the two of us. "Black-Sheep", "Modern-Thinker", and "Going against the grain". I used to think these labels were derogatory, but now, I am grateful. I think Grandpa thinks I will understand and accept things he doesn't normally talk about, like feelings for example.

You see, now that time has elapsed, and my Aunt and I have built these completely different lives, we are now somehow respected. I am very thankful, of course, but still, how weird is that? Like out of the blue "Bam" you are actually okay!!! Weird.

Any-way....Grandpa has told me several times that he is so proud of me. That in and of itself is amazingly fulfilling, but Sunday's call opened a whole different perspective. It was the normal call. "How's Jimmy?", "How's Lil Deb?", "You did good son, those two are good people". (For those of you not in the know, "Good People" is a very nice compliment.) Then Grandpa broke into something a little different. He started talking to me, like I was an old friend. He talked about things that I never heard him talk about before. He started talking to me about his past, proud things, not so proud things, painful things, happy things.....

The point to all this rambling, is simple. I think Grandpa is sharing things with me because he is filling in the missing chapters, with real, down to earth facts about who he is. He is laying it out on the line so that I know first hand his history. Like I am worthy of his story. He is not trying to make up for lost time, but to define the value of his life. He said "I have lived a damn good life. I am so proud of all my kids, and amazed by their kids. I look back with a smile and can say it was all very, very worth it. I've had a great life!" He said these things, and I got it. He has stopped looking forward, and started looking back.

He is talking to me, like we wont have that many more conversations left......

He is talking to me, because he feels safe doing so. No judgement, no questions, no worry. He is sharing with me the one thing our family never shared, emotion.

He is talking to me, and I am listening.

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Jimmy's Diet...

Well, lots of emails from Jimmy's pix came in asking how he did it. It was a plan designed by a doctor friend of ours, specifically for patients with high cholesterol, diabetes, smokers etc....

It is kind of like a modified Atkins deal, but more balanced. He is going to have a web sight up with in the next few weeks for you all to see, but for now is focusing on my Hubbie. Jimmy gets his blood work this week to see if he can cut down or off of Lipitor. He has already quit the Pepcid, tums, etc. He loves to cook, so learning the "new path" has been like a lab experiment.

I hope to get him down here to tell you about it, maybe give you some recipes and/or substitutes that worked for him. Who knows! Right now he is being all super shy. He said, "Oh my Gawd, look at my double chin! I still need to lose another 5 pounds! Eack!!!"

He is such a Silly Bunny! Right now he is doing his sit ups, and Oscar (the dog) thinks this is play time! I am going to go save Jimmy, and wrestle with Oscar!!!!!!

Sleep well everyone!!!! Luv Ya!!!

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Jimmy is now at 165.....

Tired of his Lipitor, calcium and pepcid, The Hubby decided to do something about it. In October, he made a change in his life, and he stuck to it! Almost 30 pounds in 3 months.

Congrats Honey! I love you no matter what, but I am proud of your accomplishment!!!!

Before

After

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I have been dreaming...

Yes, it is true! The mear fact that I am sleeping long enough to reach REM is astounding enough, but non-the-less, I am dreaming.

These dreams are not reminiscent of soap operas, or even flashes of my earthly history. They are simply very vivid waves of color. All the colors of the universe, blending, bending, spiraling, flashing, holding and fading. Somewhat like the acid trip concerts of the 1960's. I never feel sad, or really happy, just peaceful. I am not sure what it means, if anything, but there are plenty of explanations to be found on the internet.

The search for "vivid colored dreams" yields a variety of definitions, with vast discussions, and no two seem to agree. I stopped searching when I found a link to Native American beliefs. It appears that historically, every tribe and even certain bands of tribes had their own thoughts on the meaning of dreams. Historically, each of these groups were held together with two specific threads in their belief structure. One, that the inner centre, The Self, or the guiding spirit of a person "is realized in an exceptionally pure, unspoilt form". Two, the more vivid, or colorful the "vision" or dream was, the more open the dream doorway was to a wider awareness. Now, what does this mean to me? I guess my dreams are calling for a staring roll in "The Technicolor Dreamcoat" or something! Who knows, I simply appreciate the depth and peacefulness they are bringing.....

This morning, I went to the book store. Not an unusual event for me, but this time, with no real direction in mind. No title, no author, no list of topics. Not even the thought of looking for dream definitions! I simply walked in, and looked for books that seemed somehow "vivid" to me. I walked around for a little bit completely focused, and then started to feel like I was being watched. As I turned down an aisle to look under fiction, I saw my spy. The book store harbors a renegade cat. All black, very tame and completely comfortable living in the bookstore. I had seen it before from outside, but was never able to find her inside on previous visits. This time, she sought me out.

I stood motionless at one end of the aisle, and she at the other. Then, after a brief moment she stuck her tail straight up, turned slowly, walked slightly away, and then looked back at me over her shoulder. "She wants you to go pick her up"! This from an older gentleman tending to the magazines on the wall. "She usually gets what she wants, so if you don't give her some attention, she will keep following you!" Trust me, I needed no one to tell me to go pet the cat, I was already on the move! I walked to the end of the aisle, and the cat turned to the left and jumped on the arm of a chair. I sat down, she crawled up on my chest and looked me straight in the eyes. She purred before I even started petting her, but never once did she stop looking me in the eyes.

After awhile, the same gentleman asked if there was something specific I was looking for. "Yes, something that I normally would never pick out myself" I told him. He smiled, patted the cat on the head and asked me the last book I read. "Shutter Island" I said. Of course I did not tell him that SSG referred me to the book back in September and I did not read it until last week-end! He looked up to the ceiling, then back at me and said, come with me.

I followed respectfully behind the clerk, and the cat in turn followed me. He handed me "The Given Day" (another novel by Dennis Lehane - author of Shutter Island...) and said this one is quit different from what I had just read. He also handed me, "The Art of Racing in the Rain" by Garth Stein and "The Haunting of Hill House" by Shirley Jackson. I looked at him and asked what these were about, to which he replied "about getting something you would never pick for yourself! After you read them, come back and tell me if I chose wrong!"

As I was at the register, the cat was weaving in and out of my legs, purring and half mewing. I smiled down at her, just as an elderly woman entered the store. She had to be in her eighty's at least, with a plastic hair bonnet, clip purse and full length rain coat. She walked slow but firmly, and sat just to the right of the door to take off the bonnet. The cat, at full speed, raced over to her, leapt at least four feet from the Lady and landed gingerly on the arm of the chair. This cat then looked the Lady right in the eyes, pushed her head softly into the woman's chin, and the daintily curled up on her lap. I just love animals!!!

Two odd topics, I know, but somehow in my head they go together, or at least one after the other. I don't know, who does? Anyway, I am now going to make a few phone calls, then start reading a new book! I hope your day is turning out as peaceful and relaxing as mine is!!!

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And here I am again...

I've have been in seclusion for a bit. School was draining, difficult, and even a little tormenting, but I have maintained my "A". One more term of accounting to go, but I am taking this term off. With my soapbox politely tucked away under the bed, I am finding reflection a somewhat bitter pill.

I am almost 40. My career path has been destroyed in the economy, my bank account uncomfortably low, and my future possibilities slowly fading away. One would think I should be depressed, but I am not.

For the last couple weeks I have been seeing someone new, someone different, someone I have been missing without thinking about it. I am seeing myself, again. It is obvious that the stress of my previous jobs took more from me then just sleep and time, they took life as well. Throw the pressure of advanced paced classes on top of that, and there was little left for anything else. Today, however, I am relaxed.

I have been reading, spending time with my Hubbie, playing with Oscar the dog and Vera the cat. I am taking public transportation to work instead of driving. I listen to the news in the morning. I have even found time for music and personal reflection. Above all things, I have been able to have phone conversations, sometimes hours long with dear friends who are far away, and family with as well.

I have changed, yes, but how much, and for how long? Is this simply a period of catching up, just to put it all back on hold the next time? I can not answer just yet, but I have a plan.

A while back, my dear friend SSG physically wrestled me to the floor and twisted my nipples until I agreed to start a blog. I am grateful for that, because now I intend to go back and read through those posts. A study in history you might say, in an attempt to find out where my head was at. A look into my own mind from outside of it. A journey back to me.

In this constructive time, I intend to come back to the blog with new items as well. Who knows, maybe the spiraling decline of the last two years was a wake up call before it's too late. We shall see!

I know I have been away, and for that you have my deepest apologies. I hope to walk back into our little group, grab a cocktail and get caught up with what I have missed. That is, of course, if you will have me back.....

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And who is God, Mr. Robertson?

I think it is time Pat Robertson, and Rush Limpdick got a wake up call......

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When you're from the country, you look at things a little differently..

A Montana rancher got in his pickup and drove to a neighboring ranch and knocked at the door. A young boy, about 9, opened the door" Is your Dad home?" the rancher asked.

"No sir, he isn't," the boy replied. "He went into town."

"Well," said the rancher, "Is your Mother here?"

"No sir, she's not here either. She went into town with Dad."

"How about your brother, Howard? Is he here?"

"No sir, He went with Mom and Dad."

The rancher stood there for a few minutes, shifting from one foot to the other and mumbling to himself.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" the boy asked politely. "I know where all the tools are, if you want to borrow one. Or maybe I could take a message for Dad."

"Well," said the rancher uncomfortably, "I really wanted to talk to your Dad. It's about your brother Howard getting my daughter, Suzie, pregnant."'

The boy considered for a moment. "You would have to talk to Pa about that," he finally conceded. "If it helps you any, I know that Pa charges $500 for the bull and $50 for the hog, but I really don't know how much he gets for Howard."

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