The Army Wife

Lisa sought out the care of a midwife.  She had delivered he previous babies on US Army bases around the world and in the US,  all with midwives.  She knew, since she was "by herself" that a midwife was what she needed for this birth as well.  As time went by, I saw Lisa for her OB checks in my office.  She sometimes came in with a female friend, sometimes just with her 3 small children in tow.  They were very well behaved kids, and loved listening to their new sibling's heart beat as their Mother's pregnancy progressed.  One time, Lisa mentioned that her husband, an Army Officer, was stationed in Afghanistan, and would not be home for about 9 more months--he would miss the birth of their fourth, and final baby.  But he had missed the birth of the other three as well, so she was "prepared" to do it alone...again.  She got a little teary when she described how much her husband, a career military man, was going to miss--how much he had already missed--and how much she was missing him during this pregnancy.
My heart ached for her.  Three children already and her husband halfway around the world--it seemed so unfair for him to miss this one.  I pondered what I could do, if anything, to remedy this situation.  I was sharing the situation with my cousin, whose husband had been in the Army during the Vietnam war, and she told me that it might be possible for the Red Cross to help me reach the father-to-be when the baby was born.  An idea was born at that moment.
As time went by, I made some inquiries with the Red Cross, and with the Army.  A plan was hatched, but I wasn't sure we could pull it off, so I said nothing to Lisa.
Then, early one morning, I got a call from Lisa.  She was in labor, and so I headed to the hospital to meet her and see how things were progressing.  When I arrived, Lisa was in active labor, her children were being cared for by friends, and she was by herself.  I checked her, and her cervix was 6 cm dilated--clearly in active labor.  I went out to the desk and explained to the nursing staff what I was trying to do--reach her husband in Afghanistan in time for him to "hear" his baby born.
I started my phone calls, and with the help of the Red Cross, and lots of Army personnel, we were able to reach halfway round the world, to her husband, just in time for him hear his baby cry for the first time, and share this birth with his wife.
There was no face time or Skype back then, so it was the best we could do.  But it felt so good that day, to share that experience with that family.  And a tiny way to say thanks for all the sacrifices our service men and women and their families make for us.

Too Old for Drama

I have gotten too old to appreciate the drama people create for themselves.
You know what I mean--those people who seem to crash headlong from one crisis to the next, and seem to be followed around by black clouds.  Sometimes I think they just conjure those thunderheads up for the sake of gaining attention.  And I am just done with it.  I am done walking on eggshells so as not to hurt anyone's delicate feelings.  I am just done.
You would find it difficult to find another person who has more empathy and sympathy that I have. Because I have not had an easy life either.  I know how it feels to lose someone you love early in life. I know how it feels to be bullied.  I know how it feels to be rejected and desperate for attention.  I know how it feels to be taken advantage of.  I know how it feels to be abused, verbally, physically, and emotionally.  I know how it feels to be the sole provider, with others depending on you for their survival.  I know how it feels to be frustrated, unseen, unappreciated, overwhelmed by responsibility.  I know how it feels to be poor, really poor.  I know how it feels to be alone.  I know how it feels to be lonely.  I know love.  I know rage.  I know disappointment.  I know betrayal.  I know all these things.  These experiences have helped make me who I am.  I am not afraid, I am not bitter or jaded or even cynical.  But don't sit around and say, poor me, poor me.  I am so persecuted, nobody loves me, I think I'll go eat worms.
I am tired.  I am tired of people who whine and moan about their misfortune and won't work to help themselves.  I am tired of leading those horses to water, only see them turn their heads away, and choose not to drink.  I am done with people who think the entire world revolves around them, and that every tiny thing is all about them and their world.
So, to those people who are whiny and self-centered:  Get over yourselves.  Move on.  Get therapy.  Do the work.  Be a productive member of society.  Do something for someone else, for crying out loud.  And don't expect anyone to say Thanks.  Do something nice because it's the right thing to do, and it's what a good person does.

Remembering

When I was about 9 or 10, an historic event developed, which since that time has been known as the Cuban Missile Crisis.  As I recall, Castro had obtained missiles from Russia, that were in the process of being positioned pointing at the continental US.  There was an unbelievable amount of tension in the air.  There must have been for a 10 year old to remember it, and still feel a pit in my stomach at the age of 60.

I lived in Los Angeles, and there are a number of air bases in and around the area.  Hearing an occasional "sonic boom" was not an unusual event.

However, combine these two things--the volatility of the political situation, and the loudest sonic boom I have ever heard in my life, and it created an interesting event one afternoon at school.

As we sat in our 5th grade classroom one morning, a bone-rattling "boom" rolled across the sky and thirty 10-year-olds hit the floor in a well-coordinated "drop drill".  We dove under our desks in unison, and we each curled in a ball under our desks and shielded our heads with our arms.  I remember being wrapping my arms over my head on the floor and hearing the windows shake and the chalk rattle in the chalk trays.  All I could think about was that I would never see my Mother again, and that we were all going to die in a nuclear attack, right then.  The seconds slowly passed. After about 20 or 30 seconds, I heard my teacher scramble out from under her desk, and breathe deeply.  "OK," she said, "I think everything is OK now, come out from under your desks.  I think it was just a sonic boom."  Slowly, we each clambered out from under our desks, and brushed ourselves off.  No one said anything.  We pulled our chairs back toward our desks, and slowly sat, still silent.

I don't remember anything else about that day, until I was telling my Mother about my day at school.  "Your class is really well-trained," she said, thoughtfully.  She hugged me, and told me she loved me, and that everything was going to be all right.

I thought about that day when I listened to news reports about the children in Newtown, Connecticutt, who had trained for emergencies, and obediently sat in silence with their teachers, hiding from a madman as he murdered their friends and schoolmates.  They practiced for the terrors of their generation--a school shooting-- just as we rehearsed our "drop drills" to protect us from nuclear attack--the terror of my childhood in the 50's and 60's.  Now, looking back, I wonder how hiding under my desk with my arms over my head would have protected me from inevitable death.  I wonder what, in a couple more generations, will terrorize our children.  Will their mothers be able to hug them, and tell them "everything is going to be all right?"

Something that really bothers me...

I am completely appalled by the fact that the US ranks at the bottom of the civilized world in it's inability to care for it's Mothers and Babies.  Perhaps we should consider the following:

5 Steps Would Lower Preemie Rates in Richest Countries: Study

But reduction would be modest, with 58,000 premature births prevented annually

November 16, 2012 RSS Feed Print

FRIDAY, Nov. 16 (HealthDay News) -- About 58,000 premature births could be prevented each year if the world's 39 richest nations implemented five recommended measures to prevent preterm birth, a new study suggests.
The study also said that the reduction in premature births would save those countries about $3 billion a year in related medical and economic costs. Nearly half of those savings would be in the United States, where there are more than half a million preterm babies delivered every year.
The researchers assessed the impact of five evidence-based interventions to reduce premature birth: reducing the use of elective cesarean sections and induced labor; getting pregnant women to stop smoking; limiting multiple embryo transfers in assisted reproductive technology; progesterone supplementation; and cervical cerclage, which is a surgical procedure that can prevent preterm birth in some women.
[See: Eating for Two? What a Healthy Pregnancy Looks Like]
The impact of these interventions on premature births would vary from an 8 percent reduction in the United States to a 2 percent reduction in the U.K., according to the study, published Nov. 15 in The Lancet.
The average 5 percent reduction that could be achieved by implementing the five interventions is "shockingly small," study author Dr. Joy Lawn, of Save the Children, said in a journal news release. She added that more research is needed to find better ways to prevent preterm birth.
Each year, about 15 million babies are born preterm (before 37 weeks of pregnancy) and about 1.1 million of them die. Most of those deaths occur in poor countries, where the infants die from lack of simple care. The issue is the focus of World Prematurity Day, on Nov. 17.
In an editorial accompanying the study, two experts agreed that more research is needed to find more effective ways to reduce the number of premature births.
"Until considerable strides have been made in our understanding of how, why and when preterm births occur, and the effects that this has on both mother and baby, preterm births will remain a major public health problem, from which no country in the world is immune," Jane Norman and Andrew Shennan, of Tommy's Centre for Maternal and Fetal Health at the University of Edinburgh, in Scotland, said in the news release.
More information
The U.S. National Institute of Child Health and Human Development has more about preterm labor and birth.
Copyright © 2012 HealthDay. All rights reserved.

My favorite time of the year

I love fall. October to be specific. I love that first morning when you go outside and there's a crispness in the air that you can smell. I love the colors of the leaves, the flaming color of a red maple, the gold of the yellow maples, the rich brown of the oaks. I love the clear blue of the sky and the nippy cool breeze. There are some places that I love to drive--there's a spot between Lawrence and KC on K-10, you come up over a hill and look down into a little valley, the hills are covered with trees of every type, and the sparkle with color about the third week in October--it's so beautiful it takes your breath away. And in Baldwin City during the Maple Leaf Festival, the trees look like they're on fire.

I love the fall.

The passing of the fish

When Ethan's fiance moved in with us, she brought 2 cats and a fish. The cats have adjusted well, everyone loves them, and they tolerate everyone. The fish, well, hasn't fared too well. I've been thinking he was at death's door for quite a while, but, he had, at least until today, kept swimming around, even if he looked a little peaked.

The is the conversation, via text message, I had with my son today, regarding the fish.

Fish finally kicked the bucket.
Are you sure, really sure??
Yep. He has entered the great fish tank in the sky.
Maybe he's just taking a rest.
He's joined the choir invisible.
I think he's just resting, taking a nap.
He's not resting, he's stone dead.
Maybe he's pining....for the fjords.
No, he's not pining...he is an ex-fish.
Well, then flush him.
Done. Now a moment of silence....And now Ice Cream.
I want ice cream.

Poor fishy.

Strange Dreams

I had the strangest dream last night. I was back in Rockford, at Swedish American Hospital, visiting someone on the OB floor. One of the nurses came and got me, and said there was a patient who wanted me to deliver her baby. I walked into the room, and a woman was having a baby (I had no idea who she was) but she seemed to know me. She was about to deliver, when I realized I didn't have a license in Illinois any more, much less privileges at this hospital. I was trying to tell the staff that I couldn't do this, I couldn't deliver this baby, and they needed to find someone else to do it, but alas, it was too late, the baby came, and I delivered it. All I could think about was how I would probably be arrested since I wasn't licensed in Illinois and shouldn't have done this. No one else seemed to care.
How wierd is that?

Good Karma

I have done my good deed for the year. And it's an interesting story.

Last week, out of nowhere, I got a phone call.

"This is Amy McGowan, Assistant District Attorney in Douglas County. Is this B. P., the nurse?"
"Yes. Can I help you?"
"Did you work in the Emergency Department in September 1995?"
"Wow, that was a long time ago, but yes, I did."

She went on to ask if I recalled a certain patient, the victim of a rape, that I had taken care of...as it happens, it was the first rape victim I had ever taken care of, and I DID remember her.

Well, it seems that we did slides of body fluids which went to the Kansas Bureau of Investigation's DNA data base, and we then put into the national data base, Codus (spelling?). Now, 13 years later, a miscreant in California was arrested, and low and behold, his DNA turns up in our little case--well, come to find out not just ours, but THREE rape cases in KS. And KS has this interesting law that says if the perpatrator of a crime leaves the state, the clock on the statute of limitations stops until he returns to the state. So, the creep was extradited back to KS, and now is on trial for rape in Douglas County. And it just so happens yours truly was the RN who took the samples and sent them to KBI and the lab which were used to find this guy. The ADA wanted me to testify to the fact that I did indeed obtain those specimens, handled them according to procedure, and did my job right.

I was delighted to help.

So, last Wednesday, I went to Lawrence, took the stand in the trial and told them the truth. I was the examining nurse, I took these specimens, I handled them properly and sent them to the proper place. I was happy to do my civic duty.

Today, someone from the DA's office called me and said that worthless scum had been CONVICTED of SEVEN counts of rape, and will be sentenced next week.

So, because I did my job 13 years ago, and did it right, he got caught. And at least partially because I was able to testify to those facts, he was convicted of his crimes.

I did my good deed for the year, I'd say. And I was happy to do it. We are all the safer for the DA in Lawrence. And that is such a good thing.

Too Close For Comfort

I have come uncomfortably close to death several times thus far in my life, but my most recent brush was one too close for comfort.

I once was nearly killed in a car accident that actually never happened. Before we were married, my husband, then boyfriend, and I were in a car, crossing an intersection and someone ran a red light, and missed us by literally a hair. As I saw the car speeding toward us, I knew we were going to die, but miraculously, Randy hit the gas and the speeding car missed us completely. I was terrified.

When we had our house fire in 2002, if Mom had not awakened me, alerting me to the fire, we would have died in our sleep. The fire crept across the attic, the ceiling would have collapsed and we would have died in our beds.

But more recently, I entered the hospital for a right total knee replacement. During my recovery, I evidently came very close to respiratory arrest, saved by an attentive physical therapist. I had stood at the bedside and laid back down, I still had the epidural in place, and I remember laying back and sort of fading out.

The next thing I remember was being jostled awake and told I was being transferred to ICU, and someone came in and told me they thought I had stopped breathing. There was a theory that I had too much narcotic and stopped breathing, so they shut off my narcotic epidural, and the pain in my knee came back with a roar. They kept telling me I couldn't have anything, and it was excruciating. Over the next several days, it became obvious that I had been left alone, for over 2 hours and somehow the head of the bed was flattened, and I slowly began to stop breathing. If it wasn't for the physical therapist checking on me, I am sure I would have died.

It's really all a blur, but I am so glad just to have survived that hospitalization. The care was horrible. I cannot believe it was that bad, but it was. It will be quite some time before I get the 2nd knee done, and it sure won't be at Olathe Medical Center.

Remembering Mom

The loss of my mother has been very hard for me. I was an only child, and my father died when I was nine, so it me and Mom against the world, always. She was a wonderful mother, who taught me that there is nothing out of reach if you are willing to work hard. She taught me the value of education. She taught me what unconditional love is really all about and was an example of kindness, patience and humor. There is a huge hole in my heart and life, and I miss her every day. She was SO proud of me, and SO proud of my children. They were the greatest joy of her life, as they continue to be the greatest joy of my life every day. She was never hesitant to tell us all how much she loved us.

This is a brief eulogy we read at her memorial serivce:

Mary Louise “Billie” Noble -- Nov. 29, 1919 to Nov. 29, 2007

Before we begin, we want to thank each of you for coming to join us this evening. Mom's passing was sudden, even though she was 88, she was in good health, and we feel very blessed that she was not ill, and did not suffer. She was loved and cherished by many people in her life, and our family will miss her.

Mary Louise Noble, known by her many friends and family as "Billie" was born in Farnam, Nebraska, on November 29, 1919 to Virgie Spangler Crossgrove and Merle Crossgrove. She was their second child; however, her older sibling, a boy, named Vernon, and had died at 4 days of age.

She grew up on the farm in the 1920's with no electricity, running water or indoor toilets. She suffered a severe injury to her knee at the age of 2, and her parents feared she would never walk without a crutch. Her doctor wanted to break her leg and re-set it, but her mother intervened and refused to let him do it, instead doing her own version of physical therapy and encouraging Billie to walk. With the help of a tiny chair, built by an uncle and a large gray tabby cat on whom she leaned, she learned to walk again and even to run.

Her sister was born when she was four, and they have had a close relationship throughout their lives. One very vivid memory she often told of was when she and her sister, Dorothy, were walking home from school and Billie threw a lunchbox at her, causing a cut on Dorothy's head, which bled and bled. Of course, Dorothy was upset and crying, and covered in blood. Billie said her mother was so frightened by the blood that she never even was punished for her misdeed. Of course, she never threw anything at anyone ever again!

She loved school and did very well. She had a love of reading from a very early age, and although was only allowed to finish the 8th grade of formal education, continued to read nearly everything she could throughout her life. She would often go to the library and come home with 5-6 books and have them all read in 2-3 days. And one of her favorite presents was a gift card for Border's, since she really enjoyed spending money on a good book. She love biography and history, and even collected cookbooks and bibles.

She grew up during the "Great Depression" and the dust bowl of the 1930's, and her parents struggled to get by. They grew a lot of their own food and Grandma Crossgrove sold eggs in town for extra cash. Billie left home at the age of 17, in 1937, and moved to Lincoln, Nebraska, where she got a job as a maid and governess for a wealthy family. She made $6.00/week, and sent $4/week home to the farm. She took care of the children, cooked and cleaned and had Sunday's off. At one point, she got appendicitis, and had to have surgery--that was the only time she cut back on the amount of money she sent back home, since she had to pay her hospital bill.

It was in Lincoln she met Vivion O. Noble, and fell in love. World War II was raging, but the US was not yet fully involved. Vivion moved to California to find work, and Billie followed, staying with her future sister- and brother-in-law, Genevieve and Jim Whitmer, until she and Viv were married on November 2, 1944. She worked for the telephone company and was chief operator when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7. She recalled how the switchboard "lit up like a Christmas tree" as many people tried to call friends and family in Hawaii, and told the operators the terrible news about the bombing.

She continued to work for the phone company, and Viv worked for the engineering firm, Bendix. Briefly in 1952 they returned to Nebraska, thinking they might farm, but it quickly became obvious they would not make a go of farming on 160 acres, and they returned to Los Angeles, Viv returning to his job at Bendix and Billie, being pregnant at the time, stayed home to raise their daughter, Barbara, born November 7, 1952. In 1956, she and Viv opened their home to a young Hungarian refugee, Sandor Osvath, who came to learn English and loved their home so much, he stayed for 4 years, and became their "adopted" son.

Motherhood was the greatest joy of her life, and she made a beautiful and loving home for her family. On December 22, 1961, her husband, Viv, died suddenly of a blood clot to the lung, leaving her alone to care for her young daughter. She opened an Antique Shop, but as she often said, she wasn't a very good at dickering, and it was not successful. Billie and Barbara moved to New York, to be closer to Billie's sister and her family, and then, after her Father became ill in Nebraska, they moved to Kearney, Nebraska to be closer to her aging parents. For the next several years, she and Barbara spent every weekend in Gothenburg, helping her parents with shopping, household chores and laundry. After Billie's father died, her mother moved to a retirement apartment in Kearney. Billie also helped care for her Aunt, Nora La Bounty, who lived in a nursing home in Kearney in her later years as well. In Kearney, Billie worked for the Nebraska Book Company, and managed their very successful college book store first in an off-campus location called the College Book Store and Market, and then on-campus as the Antelope Book Store. She retired from there in 1987 after 23 years of service.

Barbara married Randall Parker December 2, 1971, and they have 3 children, Erik, Elinor and Ethan. Billie often said her grandchildren were the "frosting on the cake", and she was devoted to them. After her retirement, Billie moved to Lawrence, KS to be closer to her family and grandchildren. She soon moved into the Parker household and has been there ever since, managing the household and caring for her family. She was tremendously proud of her family, and supported and encouraged them to follow their dreams throughout their lives. Since her own education had been cut short, and she often felt handicapped by her lack of education, she strongly believed encouraged and supported her family's educational goals, and was tremendously proud that they all graduated from college(except for Ethan, who is still going to college!).

She loved animals, and was never without a dog or cat and usually more than one of each. She especially loved Siamese cats and dachshund dogs, and owned a number of each throughout her life. She was quite a collector, and had collections of many types--she collected coins, violets, doxie dogs, Siamese cats, Tea Leaf Ironstone China, cookbooks, Santas, and bibles. She loved to cook and made the best apple pie on earth. We joke that in her later years she took up furniture breeding, because it seemed like every time we turned around, she had another piece of furniture in the house to stick in a corner somewhere. But she did love and collect antiques.

She was an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and regularly attended meetings until recently, when it was too difficult for her to sit for long periods of time.

Billie will always be remembered by those who love her for her warmth and kindness, her strength of character and devotion to her family. We will miss her every day.

In Memory

Please go to  http://spinster2000.blogspot.com/ to see a wonderful video that my daughter put together for Mom. I have remarkable children, and so very much is thanks to my wonderful Mom.

How I Spent My Vacation

I went to Mass. to visit my wonderful daughter, and help her with the costumes for the upcoming show she was working on. It's set in the 1790's French Revolution, so all the costumes were period pieces. Most had to be constructed from scratch. I know she purchased at least 260 yards of fabric, plus more trim, buttons, snaps and hooks than I can count. I spent about 50-60 hours during that week helping sew. Ellie clocked about 340 hours herself. This is the list of what was made for this show:

7 waistcoats
2 men's shirts
9 men's dress coats with trim
10 deputy robes
10 pairs of breeches
6 aristocratic women's dresses with trim
5 peasant dresses
3 red peasant coats
4 pairs of boot covers
4 citizen sashes
1 General Dillon sash
1 shawl
2 head scarves
4 women's chokers
8 cravats that were a pain in the butt
1 feathered barrette
2 flowered barrettes
1 stupid walking stick with an ugly knob
109 buttons
109 button holes
1 frog
4 gold clasps
206 eyelets and God only knows how many yards of ribbon and lacing
15 hooks & eyes
30 pairs of snaps

And a partridge in a pear tree.

It was really fun, and I loved doing it, and spending time with that Costume Wrangler. She's the best daughter ever. And I got a free dinner out of it. Yummmmy.

If they do a period piece next year, I'll go help again.

Seamstress is alive and well, living in Kansas.

The Mom Song Sung to William Tell Overture

This is entirely too funny and too true.

When I die, I want to come back as an otter

In the better days of my marriage, really the first 25 years....My husband always said he wanted to be reinacarnated as an otter, since they always look like they have so much fun--and they have a great life--eat, sleep, play, have sex, and then repeat. At least that's what they seem to do...These adorable creatures make me think he had a great point. (See the Video)

The other thing he wanted to be reincarnated as was a water buffalo. No one ever bothers or argues with a water buffalo. Somehow those two things don't exactly equate, but he did have different moods.

I like to remember the part of him that wanted to be an otter. I always pictured my golden years as one of those two otters. I really miss the otter. Not so much do I miss the water buffalo.

Santa at the Gas and Go

I saw Santa today, at the Phillips 66 Gas and Go down on the corner of Santa Fe St. and Laurel Drive. He was working the counter, selling gas and diesel, candy, cigarettes and pop to the patrons of the filling station. It must be the price of reindeer chow that has forced him into an off-season career as a convenience store clerk. Well, it can't be the price of gas, after all. He doesn't use any of that...at least I never thought he did.

I pulled in to fill up my car tonight, it was running on fumes, again, and there he was. Chubby, pink-cheeked, gold wire-rimmed specs and a warm smile, Santa Claus. At the Gas and Go. I usually pay at the pump, but when I saw him inside the station, I selected the "Pay Inside" button, just so I could check it out in person.

I put $40 of regular in Dora (I named the car Dora, like "Dora, the Explorer"), and went in to pay. I gave my Phillips 66 card to Santa. "Anything else?", he inquired. "No, thanks", I said. I was trying NOT to stare. He was wearing a shirt with the Gas and Go logo on it, but no embroidered name. Well, it was pretty obvious who he was, so I guess he didn't really need his name stitched on there for all to see.

I was pushing my way out the door, and he said, "Merry Christmas, come again." Oh my.

I saw Santa at the Gas and Go.

Been there, done that.....

This is too funny for words:

LOT OF POKEMON CARDS THAT MY KIDS TRIED TO SNEAK BY ME - (eBay item 130144061675 end time Aug-22-07 12:03:50 PDT)

I could tell several stories very similar, and I only had THREE kids.

Has It Really Been That Long?

I am astonished that my last entry was June 10. Good grief.

Well, we are moved, it was awful. My loan was processed, no thanks to the inept people at Countrywide. I have NEVER had trouble with them before, but they were unreal this time. Asking for all kinds of irrelevant crap up to 24 hours prior to closing. I thought I would have a heart attack--here I was in a motel with 2 dogs, a cat, a grandma, son and daughter-in-law and they were threatening me with no closing on the house. I was about 1/2 inch away from a full blown panic attack. But, it all was fine, I was reminded by those around me that EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT, and it was.

Moving was hell. It always is. Poor Ellie, she didn't even live here and still she did the huge majority of the packing. Bless her, a thousand times, bless her. And Erik and Eunice and the showing of the house in Rockford, what an ordeal. Bless them, a thousand times, also. And Ethan, giving me a place to live for 2 months. And putting up with Harley. Oh my. I have NO idea what I would have done without all of those kids. They are each and every one completely awesome. I am the luckiest Mom ever.

The house is great. I love the 2 floors and the 3 baths. I love the fence which is now done, and the laundry on the first floor.

I am so enjoying my job. I love the time there and the time off is even better. It's MINE, no call, no pagers, no obligations. It's wonderful. I had no idea I was so burned out.

I have hired the lawn people and a cleaning lady. I think life is just about set at the moment. We'll see how it goes. Soon, I will be done unpacking boxes for a while too. And then I can see if I can enjoy a hobby or two. Wow. I might get to sew something. Imagine that..... :)

Here's a photo of my new house! Effective June 20, anyway. Our new address will be 1020 East Pumpkin Ridge St., Gardner, KS 66030.

On the Move, Finally

Well, much has transpired since my last post. The house in Illinois sold...Praise be to whomever! And I found a great house here in KS. I will try and post a picture. It's 99% perfect--3 bedrooms, with a laundry on the main floor. It is in need of fencing around part of the back yard, but that's really all...and some paint. The kitchen is something awful. The colors are ketchup and mustard. Who thinks that's appealing? Oh my....
I close on the house in IL on next Thursday, bring Mom and the dogs to KS, and wait for the closing on the new house here on the 20th. That should be an interesting few days....a hotel, dogs, Mom, me, Ellie, Erik & Eunce....This too shall pass.....
Harley has taken complete possession of me. He thinks I am a cat toy, down to the place where he launched himself off my arm leaving scratches and bruises. I went out and bought him ostrich feather toys, and he really likes them. Maybe he won't feel the need to claw me up again.
My children are remarkable people. Each and every one of them.
Erik and Eunice have been coordinating the move, running Mom all over the place, and managing the showing of the house--No small task, having shown it at least 50 times over a 6 week period. Ellie is giving up her vacation time to help pack and move and tend to the Grandma. Ethan has graciously allowed me to move into his apartment, take over his bedroom, while he sleeps on the futon on the living room floor for 2 whole months. I quite simply do not know how I would have managed this without each and every one of them. They are the most wonderful people I know. And I love them to bits.
I got great news from my friend Pam today--her son and daughter-in-law are adopting again, this time a little boy. She is so thrilled and I am so thrilled for her and her husband Jim. It's the best news for her in the last year!
More later when the family is together again......

Diego's Retort

Hmphhhh. Diego (NOT Dee-Eggo) here. The nice lady has let me use the computer. She read me the stupid stuff that beasty-cat wrote. He thinks he's in charge around here, HA, not likely. I am the TOP DOG.

That nice lady came to visit and she sits with me one the couch and cuddles. I really like here, she scratches my ears and takes me for little walks. She gives me treats. The only thing is that about the same time she arrived, that beasty-cat arrived too. I HATE him. He marches around like he owns the place, jumping the the shelves and furniture, knocking things down. The other day, I was cuddling with the nice lady on the sofa and he must have been jealous, because he got on the shelf behind us and knocked a big Hulk figure down on the nice lady's head, clunk. She sqeaked! I think it must have hurt, because she seemed very mad at the beasty-cat.

I have plans to corner him and bite his head off. If only he didn't have sharp fingers. I will have to consider this. He can be fun to play with, I chase him up and down the hall. And then he makes Meowing noises at me. HA.

I will always be TOP DOG.