Here is they are..the insanitiy weeks. The week just before finals and the week of finals. Life is railroading you down a line that is totally downhill, there are no brakes and the dead end at the end of the line has no bumper to bring you to a safe stop. You either make it through or crash and burn.

Right now I feel like my train is the one that has a brake fire (due to the illness that has come to keep me company and some family stress) while I frantically try to study for chapter exams, final exams and understand the deeper meaning of poetry and short stories written by famous drug addicts and drunks, so that I can write something insightful and new that hasn't been written in the last 100 years. Right.

Does anyone have a fire extinguisher?

Fortunately there are only two more weeks and I do happen to do some of my best work under severe pressure. And I have found that codiene cough syrup can be truly inspiratiional...

No matter how many you take, a picture through the camera on your computer always (ALWAYS) makes you look ten pounds heavier than a normal picture does. And a normal photo always adds a few pounds - unless it's in Cosmo.

What a drag.

It turkey week! For most of you that means have a stuffed bird with the family while watching inordinate amounts of prime time football.

As we are having ham instead of turkey, anyone local who wants to save me a slice of dark meat, I'd be grateful. The rest of my family will be watching massive amounts of prime time football, while I on the other hand will be locked in the office finishing two essays and getting notes in order for finals. Which are now about two weeks away, give or take a day or three.

So while you are cheering on your favorite team - it could snow in hell and the Vikings could win a game or two - please throw a thought my way - something along the lines of population impact on the local wildlife between now and 2035 would be good. Or an opinion on maintaining the spirit of the law while breaking the letter of the law in regards to Martin Luther King Jr. and the Birmingham Jail Letters would be cool too.

Hope all my special people out there have a FABULOUS turkey day!!

Another glorious morning in Southern California. We really are too spoiled here. It's autumn, the rest of the nation is starting to swim in snow and freezing temperatures and here we are, 91 degrees, sunny and fabulous. No wonder people think we don't have brains - we spend all our time at the beach, even in winter....

I, however, will be grateful for the warm weather. It's one more day that I don't have to deal with the incipient pain that comes with the cold. I'm all for avoiding that as long as possible.

The Gods are smiling on us here and I think its pretty cool...

This is really cramping my style. I'm truly feeling American today. I want instantaneous gratification and I want it now.

This hurting more before it gets better - killing my groove.

I am NOT into this. Just shoot the shoulder up with something and get on with it.

The exercises with rubber bands - ok, I can handle that for a while. (it helps the abs and the arms) And the whirlly-gig thing that makes me think it would be more useful if attached to a butter-churn. I can handle that. It helps me work on my breathing.

But this having someone stretch my arm in directions it really doesn't want to go because "it's good for me and will eventually increase mobility and stretching my neck out like I'm an ostrich- Not into that. (I'm not casting for Cirque de Soliel and last time I checked I wasn't an ostrich) It hurts. ALOT.

So just kill the pain, don't add to it.

When does it hurt and when are you just considered a wimp?

Very good question. After all, I have always had the personal philosophy that pain tells you that you're alive, when to slow down and take it easy and that it is just a stumbling block on the road of my life, so ignore it. After all, there other things that take precedence and require my time. Pain just gets in the way. I gave birth without drugs damn it. I've broken bones and moved on the next day. Torqued muscles, no big deal. I've fallen off of moving vehicles and large animals at high rates of speed. Might have been slowed down a week or two, but that's it.

So what's the difference between that and this nagging, continuous thing that I am experiencing now? Am I just becoming a puss as I get older? That must be it.

I spoke to the therapist yesterday trying to describe my notion of pain. They have this sliding scale thing that just doesn't work for me. Is it a 1 or a 10? What the heck? I have lived with this particular bout of "pain" for the last four years. Sometimes its a 1, sometimes its a "shoot me and put me out of my misery" 10. It ISN"T consistent. It changes from day to day and hour to hour. If it were, I could give you a number. It's just always there. ALWAYS being the defining term for me. Does it hurt when you manipulate the body - no. When I do - oh yeah. Does exercise help - sometimes. Drugs - I have a tolerance built up to 6 non-steroidal anti-inflammatorys' and burned out a steroid shot in just under 6 weeks. Narcotics fog the brain, they don't change the pain.

So I'm mixed. After all, I've dealt with this for about four years and still remain reasonably active. I make really strange faces from time to time. So, now am I just being a wimp? After all, pain is subjective, right? People with rheumatoid arthritis and broken bones have pain. People with high fevers have pain. (I know for a fact that even your hair hurts when you have a fever)

It's really frustrating...am I turning into the person I don't like because I can't handle a little bit of pain? Or am I just making it that much more difficult because I refuse to acknowledge that I might just be a normal person? (oh, that just doesn't bear thinking about...normal, ick!)

sigh...it's just to much to think about.

Today I have reached my limit with the world. Period. Humanity, I think that the today the majority of you should be euthanized - this is only because I just got my shot - tomorrow I will like you again. Today - stay out of my way.

The day started out with such promise - slightly foggy, a lovely sunrise. The birds were chirping. My brother-in-law made tea for me. That was nice.

Then the children got up. I usually have no problems with the children. They're charming. Cute. The kind of cute that keeps you from wanting to serve them up with sauce before an hour has passed. However, today they seem to think that the TV is the end all and be all of life. I HATE the TV. I think I have mentioned this before. If not, I HATE THE TV. Did you get it that time? Good. If you are a small child and you expect me to get you breakfast or keep from burying you in the back yard - you had better not listen to the TV before you listen to me. I will kill it and there will be NO MORE TV. EV

So we finally get it together and head to my shot appointment. The kids are cheering and hopeful that they will survive until tomorrow when Nurse Jeckyl will return and Mistress Hyde will have gone into hiding for another three months. The world will once again be safe.

Here we are. I sign in. The kids are great. 45 minutes later, the girl at the front desk calls my name. You have to re-apply for your coverage. OK. I do this. 45 minutes after that, they call me to take my weight, temp and other vitals that haven't changed in the last three months. Fine. Then there are no rooms available. OK. Back to the waiting room - the children are beginning to wonder if we're moving in. They call me back, and I wait 10 more minutes. Finally the midwife comes in to lecture me about bone loss and the fact that I have been on Depo for more years than I can remember. She grills me about my genetics - believe me woman, the genes are just fine, it's the phycho-analysis you should start worrying about. GIVE ME THE DAMN SHOT!! Then she babysits me while I am waiting in the lab for the tech to come in and shoot me up. What am I going to do? Borrow a specamine from the freezer?

Finally we get out. The children look to see if it's safe yet. They even ask. NO. Not until tomorrow. Their sad little faces make you want to cry.

So it's off the the Econo-Lube to the get my cars oil changed. There is NO ONE in line. They take it right away. There are FIVE guys that work there. And hour and half later my cars oil is change. What is it with me and the time today? Do I have a stamp on my somewhere that says GO SLOWER!!!??? Finally that is done and we hop across the street to have lunch at Chez Denwah. That is the only place today that has actually looked at me and seen the potential danger. Lunch is quick and fab.

So we shoot off to the grocery store. The kids are doing great. We manage to get through the store will a minimal amount of "KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF" and no one has been beaten yet. So we have a cart full of stuff and we slide into line. There is woman ahead of us with lots of stuff - no problem, I have lots of stuff and the kids help me unload. The lady in front of us get rung up and heads out, my stuff slides on up - and the little girl at the register comes back and mumbles something to the person behind me about being the last in line and give her the "CLOSE" sign. No problemo - then I get the cart pushed all the way up. The light is off, the lane is closed and the little girl who is supposed to be ringing me up has disappeared into thin air. I didn't even see her walk off. POOF! She's gone.

Strange.

So I wait. The lady behind me waits. The kids wait. After five minutes the lady behind me moves to a different aisle. But all my stuff is on the belt and sitting there. So I wait. The girl at the register next to me is moving right along. But she is definitely making it a point not to look at me. She calls for a "3's a crowd" on her aisle and another station opens up. But NO ONE is showing up at mine. So, now it's been 10 minutes. I am fidgeting and starting to go into melt down mode. Lot's of people walk by, but NOT ONE FREAKING PERSON (including the chick at register 2) stops to ask me if I need help.

MELT DOWN.

Now I am loud. Now I am obnoxious. Now I am PISSED OFF AND DANGEROUS.

Needless to say I came home without the groceries I left on the belt at the register. I kind of hope that the ice cream melted through the container and all over the belt.

Now I have to go to another grocery store - seeing as if I go back to Albertson's today, if will only be to park my car in the front door to make a point - and get the things that I was getting earlier today.

What a pain.

You really would think that finding chocolate cake would be easy. It's not. Finding the Perfect chocolate cake is like trying to find the fountain of youth. And considering that I am having one of those rare moments of PMS three weeks before the sanity shot is due - you would think the world would find it in its Best Interest to humor me on the chocolate cake issue.

Not chocolate Mousse cake. No fluffy, creamy crap on the inside.
Not chocolate cheesecake - which should be banned by any sensible chef in the first place.
Not chocolate mud pie - CAKE - no cake should have an oreo base to begin with.

I want chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting - NOT carmel chocolate. NOT coconut chocolate. NOT chocolate whipped mousse. Plain old chocolate. If you make it dark chocolate with a drizzle of dark chocolate liquor, you will get bonus karma points.

Is this really so much for a girl to ask from society? Look all the good things you get in return. I stay sane. The world stays a safer place. No one gets hurt. And I am willing to share.

That's not too much, right?

The summer is winding down for me and the fall semester will be here before I know it. My brain is starting to move into hide-away mode. Time to hunker down, reassess and figure out the best way to attack the coming load. I have strange cravings to lock myself away from the world and meditate for long hours. I have even given up my favorite bad habit. (talk about becoming a boring person...) I have this need to lock myself away from the world, reform myself and come out ready for action. How strange.

I want to be a beautiful butterfly...

I think what I really need is a heavy dose of chocolate and my shot - after all, it's due in two weeks....chocolate will suffice until the really hormones are slowly released into my body making the world a safer place to live.

I want to be a big blue butterfly....

I should be doing my algebra homework....while eating chocolate....and all the chapter tests to make sure I know what I am doing being four chapters ahead of the rest of the class...and did I mention I have a 91% in the class as well?

I want to be a big blue butterfly with bright pink deelyboppers....

Where's my chrysalis?

....mmmm....If ab(c + d) = e, does e = beer???

Or however you spell it. That's next semester, so don't get too picky with the spelling, eh?

First week of summer school. Make note to self - really check into the teacher teaching the class and make sure that they come recommended. Or at least that they can teach unruly crowds of teens, bitchy sub-twenty's and surly middle agers. Soft spoken, mild mannered mathematics geniuses with no sense of personal presence should really apply for a teaching job. This poor child is going to get eaten alive by the end of next week.

Kudos to the people who wrote the book. As long as you know how to READ (take note of the emphasis here), there is no way you cannot be able to do the work. It's written in everyday English. I am so proud of them I could burst. Not to mention really grateful!

Fortunately, if I get a really good grounding in the basics, I have enough self discipline to take the next two math classes on line and use class time for more serious subjects like Biology and English.

Still, it is only eight weeks, seeing as it's summer school and there are only seven more to get through. I'm half way done with next weeks homework (will be done with that and starting on week three by tomorrow night), so I can bring a book to class in about two more weeks and do something interesting beside listening to the children whine about algebra and real life.

Hallelujah!!

Who would have thought that you could have "too much" education? I was just about bowled over when I got a letter saying just that. Of course it was in reference to financial aid - and seeing at this is the first time I have ever applied to have financial aid for education, you can believe that I blew a gasket.

MAJOR GASKET

Major enough that my son refused to come out of his room or call me for about three hours after I got the notice. Wise boy, he.

Wow. It was just amazing. They tell me that I have too much education - or in their lingo "credits or units" - which seeing as every unit I have ever taken has been for a very specific certificate programs blares out loud and clear that I am TOO educated.

What a ration of crap.

I never thought that you could be "TOO" educated. But I guess that according to the federal government there is just such a thing.

WOW.

Dear Mom,

It's been twenty years now. That's a long time. Yesterday was the twenty year mark and today I feel kind of sad about it. I thought that if I wrote it down, you might be wandering around in the ether and read it...

A lot has happened in twenty years. I have come a long way is some aspects. I've made it to thirty eight without loosing life or limb - and considering I was always an accident waiting to happen that's pretty good. I have a grown man now for a son. With facial hair and everything. Looks just like me. Just like I look like you. I finished beauty school about ten or so years ago. That's a pretty big achievement. I even run my own business. It isn't terribly successful - you gave all the sales men genes to Stacey you know. But still, I have it. I'm going back to school too. For nursing. Who would have thought?

In a lot of ways I haven't come far though I think. I still judge all my success by Stacey's and yours. In that aspect I'm not really doing all that good. I still get jealous from time to time. Can't help myself. I try hard not to. After all, I'm not her.

I got married. One of these days I'll get around to officially getting divorced. I keep hoping that he'll just die and make it simple, but the one thing I have found about my life, is nothing is ever truly simple. I don't have relationships with many people anymore. I have found that I am just not willing to give that much. It's my own fault for being so demanding I suppose. But that's the way I am. I have the family and a couple of friends. I should think that is enough. They don't ask for anything I am not willing to give, at least not too often.

I sure do miss you. I think about you every day. It's funny - Stacey tells me that she hardly ever thinks about you unless something really important is happening in her life. I guess that's because she had Craig for so long. I do though. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of things I would like to tell you, share with you or a day that you don't cross my mind in some fashion.

I don't grieve as much any more. It still hurts, but its more like pushing on a bruise now than picking at a scab and watching it bleed. Some days though, it hurts just like the day you moved on without me.

I've been reading this book about dying - I've been thinking about hospice nursing. Quite a few people I've known over the last five years have passed on. I try to be helpful to those they left behind, I know how hard it can be. In fact tomorrow I'm going to a memorial for a client of mine that passed away recently. So I'm trying to learn a little more to ease sorrow.

I'm still a little mad at you, you know. There are so many things I want to ask your advice on. So many days when I wish that I could just say hi or cry on your shoulder. It's dumb, but I can't help myself sometimes. After all, Chris and Stacey had you for so much longer.

I wish that you could spend some time with Roger. You would know how to snap him into some semblance of responsible. Goddess knows that I haven't been a great instructor. After all, I'm in the same boat I was not too long after I had him. In debt (even if I do think it was in a good cause), going to school and living with family. Not too much has changed there in twenty years.

Well, I have to go to bed now. I just wanted you to know how much I missed you today. I love you mom.

Job: Professional Gaga

Educational requirements:
- Flexible, high school graduate mandatory, some college preferred, no degree required.

Basic physical/dexterity requirements:
- Must be able to carry small child that gains 15-20 pounds when sleeping.
- Must be able to contort you body under coffee tables while holding together important pieces of art project to grab missing pieces without complaint.
- Must be able to carry heavy, hot, leaky dish from oven to stove while maneuvering around short people without: 1. slopping said dish on floor or short people & 2. not stepping on short people.
- Must be able to carry kicking, screaming and squirming little people for at least fifty yards to car from door of grocery store in less than 40 seconds.
- Must be able to climb trees, dig in sand boxes, climb ladders, vault fences and run 40 yards sprints.
- Must be able to ride bike with one hand while guiding small persons bike up and down hill.
- Must be able to crawl under beds, into lower cabinets and reach upper cabinets.

Mental requirements:
- Must be flexible, have good memory and organizational skills.
- Must be able to do grammer school homework
- Must be able to philosophize with a 4 year old
- Must have excellent imagination
- Must have excellent sense of humor

Other requirements:
_ Must be able to: Kiss boo boos and make them go away, know that Carmex and Band Aides can fix everything and be able to convince a child that this is the way to fix anything, be able to amputate limbs with butter knife, cook pot stickers, bake cookies, cake and brownies, fix the perfect sundae, make pancakes and how to toast waffles to exacting standards, clean kitchen 5 - 30 times daily, wash dishes and fix the garbage disposal when Lego's get washed down the drain.

- Must be able to farm ants, make a tadpole pond and keep them alive until they turn into frogs, keep caterpillers from the wild alive until they turn into butterflies and know how to set them free, color inside the lines and avert life altering crisis when we color outside the lines, know the best way to clean a gallon of syrup off tile floor and how to carry a naked child covered from head to toe in margarine from the kitchen table to the bathtub without: a) dropping said child onto floor & b) getting margarine all over your clothes.

- Must be able to read bed time stories like they were the movies on tv, know all the words to any children's song, Disney movie and nursery rhyme and be able to sing them over 10 million times, be able to make hysterical children calm in 3 breathes and make them laugh while bandaging bleeding wounds.

- Must be able to bathe children without drowning them, wash hair in bathtub in under 5 minutes, pick out pajama's, pick out daily wear clothes, build with Lego's, build with rocks, play kareoke, checkers, chess, Chutes & Ladders, Candyland and lose gracefully to anyone under the age of 10.

- Must be able to get breakfast, fix lunch and figure out what dinner is going to be while getting 1-3 small people dressed, washed and brushed in 30 minutes or less and still be presentable for work, be able to drive while rear view mirror is tilted to see back seat and not car behind you and able to see the lights change without looking forward.

- Must be able share bed, scare monsters in the dark away, get night time drinks and soothe nightmares, slay dragons, save prince charming and the princess, sometimes save the dragon, and converse extensively on why it is better to pick your nose in private rather than in public and why boogers are not part of a food group.

- Must be able to say NO, know when bribery is the best method, be able to answer unexpected questions about god, death and why the universe does what is does, be able to believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny and know why we don't get gifts for the 4th of July.

- Must know when to say "It's time to go to Mommy/Daddy", know when to tell Mommy and Daddy to go on a date, how to cook special meals, how to fit in 4 unexpected guests at the dinner table, take out the trash, change the water bottle on the cooler, and be able to cook for 13 - 20 with no advanced warning.

- Must be able to take care of pets that come for the holidays, converse with birds and reassure small people that they won't be eaten by the hawks that live in the tree in the gully.

- Must know where trolls, fairies, goblins and ogres live in the big city, how to pick out the best books at the library and the Spiderman song.

- Must be able to organize homemade valentines cards, make sure cookies for parties are cooked and presented on platters, make veggie creatures convincing enough to eat and know how to get neon pink frosting off rand new white clothes before mom gets home.

- Must be able to reorganize life in less than ten minutes, be on time and never forget a practice, gear or play date, able to figure out share item for show & tell, insure that homework is done, turned in and gummy worms received.

- Must know how to laugh.

Genetic links to the smoking habit.
Mental aberrations leading to weight gain.
Derangement leads to children plotting to kill teachers at the age of 9.
Dysfunctional families cause teens to take drugs.
You-Tube cause 20-somethings to kill fellow students.
Dyslexia causes cancer

There is an excuse for everything. When was the last time someone actually stood up and said to the world: "This is my fault damn it. I made a bad choice, did a bad thing, and I should be held accountable!!"?????

Instead its always someone-elses' fault. What a load of crap. Genetic link to addiction. Well no shit. I'm amazed it took some this long to figure that out. It's industry's fault that I have lung cancer - like they came into your room and stuck a gun to your head and said, "Smoke it or I'll shoot". What a line of crap. The TV made me eat all those Big Macs. I saw it on MySpace, so I can't be responsible.

What is wrong with people?!?!?!?

While I really enjoy some of the advantages the times bring with them, I sure do miss the days when we were actually taught that there were consequences to our actions. The days when an ACTION brought a REACTION and with it came RESPONSIBILITY for the OUTCOME. Where did those days go?

We're raising tadpoles this month. (Last month it was an ant farm. Fascinating creatures ants. That was a really cool thing to watch.) This month it's tadpoles.

Nifty little animals, tadpoles. You look at them and realize, we all start out looking kind of like that in the first few weeks of germination. Watching them wriggle around in the water I'm reminded of sperm. Except that sperm are mindless, and these little critters are anything but.

Recently I've been watching them devour a leaf of lettuce. They start on the top of the piece. Wriggling their way up on top of it, they apparently start munching there. After a bit, they move to the edges of the lettuce. That's where they make some serious headway. Still, a creature with a mouth less than a millimeter wide needs a bit of time to consume a chunk out of a lettuce leaf. It's really cool to watch.

We currently have our tadpole in a large ceramic bowl. We found a small 5-gallon tank at a garage sale yesterday and will be moving our tadpole into that tomorrow. It has fine gravel in the bottom, so I went out and got a few water plants from the fish store for them to eat and hang out in. We'll get more water from the pond in the gully tomorrow and strain out all the other weird things that live in it (funky red krill like things), so that they have a nice environment to hang out in.

Once they start changing into frogs, we'll turn the tank from a pond to an amphibian tank. About a month or so I judge. Their little legs look kind of like fur bits right now. I'm sure that we'll have to pick out just a couple, seeing as we have about a dozen in the bowl at the moment. But I'm all for the survival of the fittest and letting my littles learn it too.

Seeing as my personal discomfort is not going to be obliging me by dissipating or just going away totally, I may as well make it worth my time. Therefore, I spent the day cleaning the kitchen from top to bottom (you can eat off my counters now) and pulling weeds.

Cleaning is therapeutic - it give you a sense of clean. (Yeah, I know, very profound) Still, it makes me feel as though I can go into my kitchen and create fabulous things and not have to start out cleaning it up first. Which is usually the case. Every item goes into its place. The counters are neat. The cupboards, organized. Its just a yummy way to have your kitchen.

Pulling weeds is also therapeutic. Painful, but therapeutic. (Typing is a challenge as my fingertips feel as though I have been pounding on them with a hammer for most of the day.) Still, I have two healthy swaths of rock hard ground that are now weed free. You can see the plants that are meant to be there, and I have four large garbage bags full of sticker-weeds. It is very tangible and very visible. I know my family will appreciate my effort. Even if they don't notice (like the kitchen), I can see what I have done and feel that my aches and pains are worth having now. I think I can even manage to appreciate the rash going up both arms too.

Not too shabby for the first day of daylight savings. Now then, assuming that I will be semi-functional tomorrow morning and seeing as I don't have any work scheduled at the salon, I think I will spend tomorrow doing the same thing - sans the kitchen. Grubbing in the earth and removing weeds is a perfectly grand way to spend a day off. And perhaps, the old adage of "what made your hurt in the first place is the only way to make the hurt go way", will be applicable here and a few days of weed pulling will sort out this discomfort I have been in. While I am a firm believer that pain is educational, dealing with it constantly is down right irritating.

Ok people...I'm a little irritated this evening...

I think it is grossly unfair that I should be hurting like this. I did what the doctor said. I took six months off and allowed my body to "heal" - if that's what you want to call it. I took the anti-inflammatories, quit ballet and did everything else they told me to do. For the last three months I have slowly started working my body - going SLOW, just like he said to. Being careful not to lift to much too soon. Don't go gang busters. Take baby steps. Started doing yoga - low impact yoga. Started doing stretching - low impact stretching. Keeping up the meds, just like suggested.

So you tell me why a half hour of pulling weeds is making me feel like I am freakin' 90 years old? This is just messed up. @#*&@$!!!!! Messed up! I spent less time moving some plants out of soft, wet soil that it takes me to do a haircut and I can barely freakin' move. What the f**K?

After all, a bit of exercise is supposed to be good for you right? Working in the yard for a little while is supposed to be therapeutic. It's not like I worked all day long. 30 freakin' minutes. And it ain't like I don't get other exercise every day.

I feel like someone took my arms, tied them at the wrists and thumbs to one end a horse, took my ankles and tied them to another horse and proceeded to pull me apart. This just ain't right.

I always try to tell myself that pain is educational, and that as I get older, I'd better get used to it. But if this is an outlook of what I have to look forward to even another six months from now - just shoot me. People who live this way every day of their lives - y'all are way better than me. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but I think my tolerance is wearing a little thin.

This is for the f**king birds.

Sometimes you forget that California winters are actually supposed to have rain. I mean over the last few years of living here in southern California, we haven't had much in the way of rain. Even when I was up in northern Cal, the winters were wet, but not particularly wet. At least not since the last El Nino I experienced. Which was definitely educational.

So when the rains come here to our desert area, we all wonder - what the hell is this stuff and why is it falling out of the sky? After all the taxes I pay, you would think that the governor could keep the sunlamp on....

Still its been a wonderful experience for our littles. The frogs are blooming. We find them in the most interesting places, like on doors - not sure how they opened the screen, but there they were. EVERYTHING is blooming. I think that is the one main thing that amazes me about where I live - just a little water and some sunshine and EVERYTHING blooms. Two or three times. Plants that I have known of all my life that normally just bloom once anywhere else - bloom two and three times here. We get two blooms for iris for goodness sakes.

This place amazes me. Just when I think that all my senses have been dulled down into gelatinous goo from living in the city atmosphere, days like this come and I go outside and feel the world around me. I walk (or slither rather), down the hillside to the pond in the ravine, sit on my heels and feel the earth come to life. There is amazing amount of licorice growing down there - it smells incredible.

I need to start a garden....

I was reading the news today and an article title caught my eye...."compromise on wall flap in border town".

Interesting don't you think?

I remember when the Berlin wall came down. I remember when it was still up. My brother was stationed outside of Berlin while it was still up. I know someone who was there when it came down. He has a piece of it in a box. Probably gathering dust right now. I think, somehow, that he should bring it out, dust it off and take it for a tour. People forget so soon...

I mean, I know that immigration is a very serious issue in our country, but I always thought we were supposed to be better. That the ideals of our nation were loftier per say. That we were better than that.

After all, walls are to keep "others" out. If we start here and build 300 miles of wall, what's to keep it from going from the Pacific ocean to the Gulf eventually? And why would we want to stop there? After all, there are all those Canadians up north - we'll need to keep them out too. (Sorry Alaska, you're on your own) Then we'll need to close in Florida, gotta keep all those Cubans out you know. Plenty of illegals coming through there. Then there's the West Coast, lots of people sneaking in all over the place there. And the East Coast!! My god in heaven!! Think of who could be sneaking into the country through the East Coast!!!

I just hope that we as a people remember that walls don't only keep out people - they keep people in too.