WHAT IS PEACE AND WHERE CAN I FIND IT? Or get me out of here quick!

"The traditional political definition of peace and the very word itself originated among the ancient Romans who defined peace, pax, as absentia belli, the absence of war...the absence of violence"

Okay, I won't kill the cats.

...Mahatma Gandhi's conception of peace was not as an end, but as a means: "There is no way to peace; peace is the way. "

Great! I am supposed to find my own calm and tranquility amongst the chaos of my office, surrounded by Yuppies, two disgusting cats and the endless negative energy of the media. Where's the peace? Where's my Zen?


After two cats (that were brought into my home without my consent) destroyed the last of 12 plants, knocking over a iron screen with six potted plants with delicate ceramic pots and breaking the vase my daughter gave me, my stress level has reached a peak. To those around me I have remained a pillar standing serene, with a smallish smile painted across my face trapping all the expletives trying to escape. Inside an explosion is about to be detonated.

"...More generally, peace can pertain to an individual relative to her or his environment, as peaceful can describe calm, serenity, and silence. This latter understanding of peace can also pertain to an individual's sense of himself or herself, as to be "at peace" with one's self would indicate the same serenity, calm, and equilibrium within oneself..."

Oh shut up! I have found the road to peace, it is in my car with my tent trailer bouncing behind me up the road to the mountains while counting to one million and five!

Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

If only they were fish! FLUSH!

Phantom Las Vegas One Year!

http://www.phantomlasvegas.com/

Okay, so yea I'm excited! Phantom is having their one-year anniversary celebration tonight for the cast and crew (and spouses!!) after the show. That means I must have a new outfit. Right?

These are usually great affairs, the opening night party was so, so cool. Andrew Lloyd Weber, oh excuse me, SIR Andrew Lloyd Weber and Hal Prince were there, plus many celebrities in attendance. This may not be as big as all that, but it will be great food, drinks, music and all in all pretty fancy smancy! So, new outfit!!

I probably should have been thinking about this way before tonight. But, gee with work, tennis, Father's Day, I sort of forgot about it until this morning when I was trying to figure out what to wear to work. Something about looking in the closet made me think "Oh, crap! What am I going to wear tonight?"

I made it to work by 8am so I could get off at 4pm and hit the mall. OOHH, I just remembered! My tennis team gave me a gift certificate for the mall. How cool is that? Okay, off at 4pm, 30 minutes to get to the mall, one hour to find the perfect ensemble, half hour to get home, hour to shower and get ready. Show starts at 7pm. Crap, that doesn't work. Hmmmmm. That means drive fast shop fast! Hmmmmm. If I skip lunch I could leave earlier.....NAW...couldn't ever skip lunch! Dang!

Shoes? I probably need new shoes too! And a bag! Why do girls love to dress up?

EDITED POST--5PM--STILL AT WORK--HUSBAND SICK--CRAP!

This One's For My Dad

I know my Dad will probably never read this, but as it is almost Father's Day I have him on my mind. I know without a doubt I was given the best Dad in the universe. Never did a more unselfish man walk on this earth. My Dad turned 80 this year. Not a tremendous accomplishment in itself, many other men have turned 80 or more that is true. However, 10 years ago my Dad suffered a major heart attack. During surgery to put in a stent the Dr found that Dad had suffered a previous heart attack and because he didn't go to the hospital he had lost more that 40% of his heart. He also indicated he didn't think my Dad's condition was as bad as it was because Dad was conscious when the Dr. saw him in the Emergency room and after seeing the extent of the damage to his heart was surprised that he had been.

We all knew the reason that Dad didn't pass out was because he wouldn't ever want to do anything that would worry our Mom. A hero in her own right for winning a very tough battle with colon cancer.

My Dad quit school in the eighth grade, lied about his age so he could get a commercial drivers license and sent his money home to his family. Two years later he would be drafted into World War II because of that lie, as it appeared he was 18 but he was really only 16. When he went home and asked his dad to go with him to the draft board and explain that he really was only 16 his father wouldn't do it, telling him "That's what you get for lying." So he went to war.

He was on the front lines in Japan. He fought in muddy trenches. He saw friends blown apart. He caught malaria. He was just a boy. He doesn't talk about that experience much, but of the stories he will tell makes us realize that there were many horrors witnessed.

Dad was 23 when he married my Mom, just two days after she turned 16. This was 1950. They are still together. They are still in love. They still say "I love you" every night before turning off the lights and going to sleep.

I look at everything I have now, what I was able to provide my kids, all the luxuries. I think of my dad's family losing their farm in Oklahoma, driving west trying to reach other family in Oregon, but running out of money outside of Las Vegas in a small town called Searchlight. They found a cave to live in and his dad found work in a mine. In time they built a porch in front of the cave. His mom would sweep the dirt floors, it was their home for a long while. A cave.

My dad only has an eighth grade education. He impressed upon his four kids that education was so important. His older brothers all had college degrees. Dad was the baby and when the depression hit there wasn't the money to send him to school and so he quit to help support his family. He always felt like he was not as intelligent as his brothers or even us kids. He couldn't spell very well and was very self-conscious about that.

However, this same man built a brick house from the ground up. He did all the brick work. He put in all the plumbing. He did all the electrical work. He built the cabinets from scratch. He showed us how to ride a horse, how to feed it, take care of it, and all the responsibilities of having pets. We had horses, goats, rabbits, chickens, cats and dogs over the course of our childhood. He took care of all the maintenance on our cars from changing the oil to rebuilding the engines. He could figure out the angle of the trusses for a roof and the yardage needed in pouring concrete. He is smarter than anyone I know.

Dad's only concern has always been first for Mom and second for all of his kids. He always wanted us kids to have a new pair of shoes for school, because he remembered how embarassed he was going to school barefoot when his family couldn't afford them. He worked so we could live a better life, an easier life than he had. He went without many times so we didn't have to.

Dad took us camping and taught us how to fish and appreciate the great outdoors. He loves having his family around him. His greatest pride and joy is his kids and grandkids.

Dad is no longer the same strong hero that I have branded in my brain. The guy that could break a wild horse, build a house for his family, take virtually anything apart and put it back together again. His arms look weak and no longer show the strength of his many days of toil and hard labor. He is shorter by inches and walks slowly. His voice is soft and weak and sometimes I have to strain to hear him. But he always has a smile on his face, he still loves his kids and grandkid and great grandkids to be around him, and his still always says "I Love You", whenever we leave.

As with all of us, the days fly by, work and everything else seems to get in the way of taking the time out to stop by the house and see my parents. I know there aren't really too many days left to waste any chances to somehow pay back to this man all he has done in his life, for his family, for his friends.

I love you, Dad.

Always and Forever.

Dancin' Bears! What ???

Any Grateful Dead fan, or even if you are not a fan but any aging hippie from the 60's and 70's (worth their salt or pot) would know that the Dancin' Bears are just for FUN! One of several symbols of the Dead---the rose, skelton, VW Bus, bumper stickers (Picture Whirled Peas!) are some other things associated with that group.

"The dancing bears symbolized the fun-loving aspect of the Grateful Dead and their fans. Over the years these bears have appeared on multi-colored bumper stickers, T-Shirts and posters.

The origin of the bear was taken from the Bob Thomas album art cover (Bear's Choice). The back cover of History of the Grateful Dead, vol 1 (recorded Feb 13 and 14, 1970) showed multi-colored marching bears. Bob's inspiration for the bear came from a 36 point lead slug of a generic bear that was a standardized figure from a printer's font box."

So there you have it! Straight from the Grateful Dead fan site!

Showing My Age--Bus Dead!

I thought I wanted some cool decals for my new sunflower yellow Xterra. I came across this cool online site: http://www.purplemoon.com/Stickers/stickers.html




Lot's of peace signs, dancin' bears and other Grateful Dead standards.

This one I thought was way cool, called "Mother's Embrace."

I'm wondering if there is anyone in the audience that can relate to "Deadheads" and "Dancin' Bears?" If there are, Peace Out!

The Legend of Hippie Hollow

Okay, so my daughters have read my blog.

Daughter: "Mom, you didn't really go to a nude beach did you?"

Me: "Well, yes, I did."

Daughter: "Why would you want to go some place like that?"

Me: "Well, Hon, I wasn't really aware of what Hippie Hollow really was, nor did I know that there would be naked guys walking around with their weiner wangers hanging out." (Because if I did, I would have gone up there on the first day of my trip!)

Daughter: "You, didn't really see any nekked guys did you, Mom?"

Me: "Nay"

The Car is in the Driveway

Yes, the deed is done. I cleaned out good old OTRA One Kanobi and drove my last drive with him (her?) to the car dealer. My nice and shiny very mellow yellow Nissan was waiting for me. Just had to sign a few gazillion papers, give them a few pints of blood, sign over the title for my faithful friend, gave them the keys and that was it. I only had one moment when I got misty-eyed and thought I was going to start SOBBING! "Think good thoughts" I told myself, "think camping trips, road trips, Sunday drives with Garrison Keiller."

I drove away, and never looked back. I did hide a card in the van with a note to the new owners letting them know his name. I mean I wouldn't want the car to get all confused if someone was telling it to "Come on Nellie, get going." I also told them that it drives much better after being washed!

It's a little strange, I can't find the door handle, or the window buttons, the AC, but I think we got along just superbly for our first day together. And she looks so very cute in the driveway. It's for sure the brightest car on the street.

Farewell OTRA One Kanobi!

The car dilemma continues. My dear husband is now giving in and letting me get the SUV I prefer over the one he had researched and found to be acceptable by all Consumer Reports standards. Mine is recommended wth the only check mark being fuel economy. This is a BIG DEAL with my sweetie. I do understand that this means I will spend more money a year in gas. I should be feeling guilty, I do a little, but hey, okay, I'll skip lunch one day a week, won't that make up the difference?

I was getting really excited about the new car, as of tonight that would be a sunflower yellow Nissan Xterra, but then I started thinking about cleaning out the stuff from the Safari van. The van that had taken the kids and I safely to and from Oregon on many, many camping trips. It's taken me to many places to hike or to just sit and ponder my existence. A zillion trips to Tonopah the middle of nowhere Nevada to attend State PTA meetings. And up to Caliente, to cut Christmas trees and haul them back. It's been a faithful friend. And then there is all the sentimental attachment.

It's almost as if I could hear the kids laughter when I sit quietly in the van and close my eyes. They are all grown and on their own now, so the sound of that laughter is precious. Then all the stuff. I keep my fold up camp chairs in it just in case I ever have a flat, or come upon a situation that I just might need to sit down for a while. In the door slots are file folders containing maps, camping information for all the states I tend to visit on a regular basis.....in alpha order of course. (Did I mention the folders are lavender?) Several umbrellas, first aid kits missing some items from those many, many camping trips. There is a piece of a arrowhead, and other small rocks/shells in the ashtray. And somewhere hidden in one of the compartments is a small old bottle my dad and I found during a weekend trip to Yerrington, NV. Lots of memories with that van.

I named the van OTRA-One-Kanobi. OTRA stands for On the Road Again and One-Kanobi is so the force would always be with me where ever I traveled. I know. That is the coolest name for a vehicle for all times! Melancholy is me. I feel like I am taking my faithful dog to the dog pound to be put asleep.

But, it is becoming the money pit. Sorry, old friend. We must part. I hope you find a nice family and aren't sold to the parts yard. But, if so, think of it as being an organ donor of types, living on in other vehicles! I will keep the memory of all our good trips in my heart and you keep the memory of the same in your........radiator? Carburater? Whatever!

Farewell Otra One Kanobi! May the FORCE be with you!


Hello, SunFlower!

My Two Recommendations

My daughters, all three of them, have been bugging me like crazy to buy some CD by some new singer they have been raving about. It was by someone I have never heard of before. A cross between Linda Ronstadt and Janis Joplin, I was to "love" it. Not one to run right out and by anything, particularly a CD, I certainly wasn't jumping out of my seat to zip down and get this one. After a few weeks of endless harassment, Annie, my nearly 22 year old baby, gives up and brings it to me. Guess what? I LOVE it! So, I am passing on this free bit of information. Fabulous, great songwriter, vocalist, musician.

THE STORY, By Brandi Carlile.
URL: http://www.brandicarlile.com/


Now, number two. I like to read. But again, I usually don't go out and buy something unless someone recommends it or I saw it on Oprah! This next recommend came from a tennis partner who recently lost both parents and was having trouble with her son. She said it really made her laugh, clear her head, a good read. I saw it recently at the college bookstore where I work (not the bookstore--the college) so picked up the last copy. I'm loving it. I divorced seven years ago, after 27 years of marriage and four kids. And though I have recently remarried (now three years), I still carry a tremendous amount of guilt around feeling like I let my entire family, kids, parents, aunts uncles and all my deceased ancestors down. I know in my heart of hearts it was right but this vice-grip around my heart keeps saying I shouldn't have given up on the marriage. Reading this has been theraputic and great fun. Quick read about a 30 something depressed, newly divorced woman who decides to take a year off and find herself.


EAT, PRAY, LOVE
One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonsia.
by Elizabeth Gilbert,


Good Night!

And Enjoy!

Car Shopping--UUUGGGHH!

Fortunately, I have only been shopping for vehicles four times in my life. I keep my auto as long as possible at least 8 or more years. And now the possible is as long as it is going to be on my Safari. For the past several weeks my hubby and I have been talking about what car I should get. He spouts all the rationale from Consumer Reports, and the number one factor-- fuel economy. Keep in mind my aged hippie husband gave away his vehicle and rides either his ten-speed or his motorcycle to work, and everywhere else for that matter. Thus, he feels very good about his contribution to society in saving the air and the world at large.

I, too, want to save the air and the world. Only, I want to be able to pull my tent trailer, go off-roading occasionally, and think color is as important as fuel economy. So, when he asks me what I want in a vehicle, I, of course, say " a jeepy kind of thing, that has a rack, with a tow package and cool school bus yellow would be great!" He usually frowns, mutters something about going green and leaves the room. I don't know how to tell him I could NEVER own a green car!

After his hours of research online, we then have the whole going-to-the-car-lot experience. I tell my hubby who hates to go to car dealerships that I will be the one to handle all of the transactions. I am resolved to remain calm and I am intent on finding a car that I will have a connection with as I will be spending many hours with this vehicle in the upcoming years.

There is a reason why car salesmen have such bad reputations as slime-ball predators. They truly are vultures, just waiting and watching for fresh prey. We drive up and "Jimmy" is the first to pounce on us. He proceeds to tell us how he could never sell a product he didn't believe in because he is a man of integrity. Isn't that super! He wants me to take a car out for a test drive. I want to know the price, will it tow my trailer. He's not sure.

I just want to know the price. But that's not how the game is played. I explain I don't have time and just want to know how much is the car. Jimmy starts in: "Let's go for a drive. Just sit in the car." He continues: "What color would you like Driftwood Pearl, Galatic Gray, VooDoo Blue, Sun Fusion. Let's go to my office and I'll put some numbers together for you." I ask if it can tow my trailer. He's not sure unless we go to his office. The sun is beating down on us and I really, really, really just want to know the price. I have a list of possible cars, I want to make the best comparison of prices and features. But Jimmy just wants to go to his office and play 'Deal or No Deal!"

I refuse to go to his office. I refuse to get in the car. I refuse to drive the car. Just give me the damn price and tell me if it can tow my tent trailer! What's so hard about that? I feel all my zen leaving. All my resolve to remain calm and have a peaceful car buying experience while I try to makle a connection with a car is quickly disappearing. I tell my hubs, "We must go!"

We drive back home in the same old van we drove up in. Back to Consumer Reports. Back to all the stats on fuel economy, side-air bags, brakes, resale predictability......and not one word about anything school-bus yellow. Oh, excuuuuse, me. I mean Sun Fusion!

Travels to Austin or the Road to Hippie Hollow

Last week I flew to Austin for an educational conference. Being a native of Las Vegas, I find most conference towns pretty boring. The conference day ends, you go and try to find a place to eat, most towns roll up at 9pm and you end up spending the majority of the time watching tv alone in some hotel room. I don't know what I expected from Austin as I have never been there or anywhere in Texas, but let me tell you, it is ever a party town as Vegas.

On the way to the hotel from the airport, some guy on the shuttle mentions a free concert going on somewhere, but he doesn't know where. My sister and I (did I mention my sister from Reno joined me?) decided we would find this free concert.

We did! It was way cool. I have never seen more rednecks and hippies congregated in the same place as there were at this outdoor concert. I wasn't quite sure of those wearing t-shirts with "Keep Austin Weird!" but suffice it to say there were all kinds roaming the grounds.

The top talent for the night, of the long list of talent, were Bonnie Raitt and Kris Kristopherson! Wow. It took me back to the early 70's, music, tie-dyed t-shirts, peace signs, the smell of mary jo riding the breeze in and out through the crowd. Tremendous musicians. Lots of local talent that were simply fabulous! The concert ended with Kris singing "Me and Bobby McGee." Ahhh.

That was the first night. Every night we found a different place with a different band, and great food. The last day prior to heading back to the airport we took off and found our way to Travis Lake and Hippie Hollow. I had seen it on the tourist map we had received when we had checked into the hotel. I had to go to Hippie Hollow, after all I had been a hippie in my teen years, I had to find this place and make a connection.

It wasn't until we had paid our $10 and were walking down the path in our little jean skirts with our sandals and our little purses swinging by our sides, that we realized, by the man walking toward us, that Hippie Hollow is a NUDE BEACH!! I cannot stress enough our complete surprise at seeing a man with shoes and socks, straw hat and nothing else swaggering toward us. We both made a right face to stare at the woods and close our eyes. I don't know what we were thinking, perhaps if our eyes were closed, he couldn't see us standing there biting our lips and trying not to laugh. Which then had me quite alarmed that we were breaking the most sacred rule of all......NO LAUGHING WHEN NAKED MEN WALK TOWARD YOU! I am certain that cannot be good for any man's self esteem!

We soon realized we were surrounded. Naked people everywhere. Imagine being the only clothed persons there and trying desperately to act cool. Trying to keep the hysterical laughter form spurting forth everytime some guy came swinging by, trying to talk to people and keep your gaze looking at their face and not wandering down to you know where! I hate not fitting it. I quickly pulled my sunglasses out of my purse and told my sister there was only one course of action "Quick! Take your clothes off--Blend in!"

Long Time

It's been a very long time since I have got on the old computer and started reading my favorite blogs. Gee with DebbieDoesLife out of commission, my inspiration just wasn't there. I jumped online this evening and just for the heck of it looked up Debbie's site and "sure nuf" she was back on. Too bad I didn't check sooner and I could have enjoyed a CD of her favorite hits.

Of course, I just couldn't come back and start posting. Like most of my time here, I start messing around with the templates and trying to come up with a new header. Ahhh, how nice it would be to be one of you amazing bloggers who can just jump on here and start writing without being so critical of your blog's appeareance.

I am going to try and write some more and mess with html less.

That said, I may just very well go home and tell you all about my amazing adventure to Austin....Hey, Debbie....why haven't you ever mentioned "Hippie Hollow" in Austin?

But, that was the last day of the trip, first things first. Get my butt home!

Happy Halloween!

In honor of my most favorite day in the whole wide world, I devote this space to my graveyard photos taken on my recent New England trip.
20 points to the one who can identify cemetary and/or town.








Hope everyone has a very ghoulish night, with lots and lots of chocolate!

Gothic Grandma

I am in Halloween sorrow. I love Halloween. Prior to my divorce five years ago, I had decorated my entire yard (I had a half acre so it was a BIG yard) with a graveyard, flying ghosts, monsters, coffins, skeletons with lacy dresses and long wigs, devil coming out of the ground with red smoke all around, fog machines, creepy music, flying bats, pianos, you name it, I had it. For over 25 years, people came from miles around to see the spectacle I would create. I would have at least 10 pumpkins carved. The teenagers loved to come help carve pumpkins and set up all the goodies. They knew they could come to my house and carve pumpkins, find a costume, dress up, have fun. I would go through tons of candy with all the kids that showed up.

But, alas, divorce was fast approaching and the house was sold, the ex threw away my entire Halloween collection (27 years worth) and I moved into an apartment. I decorated my door. I didn't have one trick or treater!

Now, I live in a townhouse. I decorated my courtyard and the front sidewalk last year. Not one kiddo. I'm just a Gothic Grandma come this time of year and as Halloween approaches I find myself mourning the days of old. I always wondered what people thought that year I moved away and they came expecting great spooky things only to see the new home owners meager attempts at Halloween. If I only had my great dementor costume I would go harass the kids on my old street. (Ah, big sigh) Good times!

Not By the Hairs on My Chinny Chin Chin!

Today's paper, in the comics (for Better or Worse) I see exactly what I have been dealing with the entire past year, only I don't think it is funny. You be the judge:



This is my life! I am constantly plucking out chin hairs--yes, it is gross! What the hell happened when I turned 50? Did all the female hormones in my body just completely shut down? Some testosterone switch come on? Hot flashes I can handle, but I don't think this is one bit funny, every day there seems to be one more bristle, pluck! Stop it already!

Joys of being a woman

Hot flashes are upon me. Well, first of all, they are more of a warm flood. (I suppose living in Vegas gives me a different perspecitive of hot.) But, there was nothing flash about it. Came on slowly, rising to the top of my head, staying around for a while then slowly subsiding. Not terribly uncomfortable. Why do women have to go through all this metamorphisis crap? I remember being 15 (Yea, I was a late bloomer!) and hoping for boobs and a period just once I wanted to take a private shower! Oh, what I didn't know! Boobs, cramps, periods, then several years later pregnancy, now I get to enjoy menopause, osteoporosis will be next, but please, please, no hair on my chin (what is that all about?) And what do men get? Their balls drop, their voices change and then they reach 40 and start having a few gray hairs. Oh, how rough!

Thank God we aren't still birthing babies while gathering berries. And thank God for epiderals....however, being a 70's mom when "natural birth" was what all good caring mothers did so you wouldn't "harm" the baby, I missed out on most of the joy of birth and delivery as I was too busy withering in pain wondering when the doctor was coming to pull the backhoe out that was trying to dig through my back! However, my last child born in the 80's came into this world under the lovely calming effects of drugs. I did have to wait until my husband went for dinner after I had been at the hospital for over 10 hours and the needle lady had come in and asked if I would be needing an epideral as she was heading home and it would take an hour to get back. My husband spoke out "no, we don't deliver with drugs."

The thought: "shut-up asshole, and when was this a 'we' event anyway?" raced through my head. The minute my husband left the room, I called the nurse and I was in heaven by the time the hubby made it back to the room. I did break my nurses nose, but that is entirely another story.

Whoever developed this procedure should have a statue made in his/her honor--standing on a platform, needle raised high and hundreds of women kissing the feet. Bless you, for you have made birthing a somewhat joyful experience.

Back to how did women get all the crudy body part transformations? I think we should have been created in the likeness of a kangeroo. Spit out a wormy fetus, carry it around in a Gucci bag for the remaining months, no stretch marks, no bulging bellies, no belly buttons popping through pants, no need for tummy tucks and boob lifts, well maybe keep those options open! Yep, this being created in the likeness of man was not a good idea. Perhaps laying and egg and sitting on it while our spouse brought us food and drink might have been an even better alternative.

I thought making it through my child-bearing years with four kids was my greatest hurdle in life. But now that menopause is upon me, I realize this may be a rocky ride for a few years, not only am I up changing the thermostat 10 times during the night, I now have hormonal fluxes that make me sincerely believe everyone around me is a complete idiot. If I actually spoke the words that come to mind to the clients or staff in my office, I would be fired for harassment.

I think I read somewhere that a glass of wine was perfect for hot flashes. Actually, I just made that up, but I am going to go get that glass of wine as this aging hippie girl has had it with the joys of womanhood. I have decided for my next birthday that I want a cake with my picture on it. A very subliminal message to all who partake: "Bite me!"

Under 100 degrees! FINALLY!

Ah, what a great, great day! Do you just LOVE the cooler weather? I am lovin' it! My flowers are happy, they bow down to me when I walk by, sounds like a John Denver song right? Hmmm, what was that song? "I'll walk in the rain by your side...." Come to think of it, I think the bees bow down in the song, not the flowers. Oh, well, my flowers, bow down to their queen and tell me how happy they are, they are blooming again, and I am happy too. Now, when I say cooler, I mean out of the triple digits of the Vegas summers. So, maybe the rest of the states are getting down to 60's and 70's but here in the glorious wild west, we really can fry eggs on the sidewalks and look forward to the double digit temperatures.Yes, I think Autumn has arrived! Time to dig under the bed and pull out all the sweaters, it will be 70 before you know it.

I love Summer, I truly do. I love the feel of the warm sun on my skin, the cancerous rays burning through all layers. I love going to the beach and wathcing the kids play in the sand and water. I love closing my eyes and listening to the waves reaching the shore. And while young minds are mesmerized with the sounds of the waves, I hear the sand being sucked back into the depths of the ocean and imagining that sound to be similar to that of lyposuction. If I were ever brave enough to give it ago, I would be better able to ascertain that fact. I love watching the toddlers chasing the waves, the awe in their faces at seeing the ocean for the first time and trying to contemplate the vastness in their small world of experiences. My eyes wander to the young slender bodies in bikinis and I so want to tell them to flaunt it while they can because the vastness of their rear and thighs will soon be upon them, and the days of bikinis will soon be a distant memory, a picture in a scrapbook. (Yes, Mom used to wear a bikini, too!) Yes, let us move away from the bikini days of Summer and toward the almighty body equalizing days of Autumn, where each and every one us us will look chunky in sweats!

Autumn is our reminder that Spring will be coming in all it's botanical glory after the restful days of winter. (For those of you back east, you may insert, the bleak cold hell of winter! ) And for you guys: Autumn means football and tailgating parties, beer, chips and big screen tv's with your favorite team running across lifesize and in living color! Ah, Autumn. It's the best! Maybe tomorrow we'll get down below 90, it's almost going to be freezing!

Leaving Las Vegas

My oldest daughter informs me today that she and her husband bought a house in Colorado last week while on their vacation in a small suburb of Denver. She just got back home!! My heart rips apart as I tell her how excited I am for her. This is the daughter that was married three years ago and the next year moved to Alaska(army) with her husband. I remember convincing her how fun and what an adventure it would be when they were stationed in Alaska and she was afraid of leaving her family and friends, her home. I remember at that time telling her to treasure every moment, it would be a wonderful experience and soon she would be back home. My heart was torn apart then, too, except I knew they would be back home.

The next year she had a baby in February. Scared and feeling alone, far from home and isolated, she wants me there with her. And of course, I would be there. I had planned to fly up the week prior to the expected arrival to help her get everything ready. The baby arrived a week early, the day before my scheduled flight. She called early in the morning. I ran around like crazy after she called. I changed the flight to that day, packed, got to the airport and made the 18 hour trip to Fairbanks, arriving at the hospital about 2 minutes after she gave birth, but in time to get pictures of the baby being cleaned and weighed and wrapped in her first blanket. I was exhausted, but the smile on her face gave me the energy to stay with her through that first night.

It was beyond freezing. Remember I live in Las Vegas where 55 degrees is freezing! And now, here I am in Fairbanks at minus 40 degrees, looking at my very beautiful daughter, my most precious granddaughter and wondering how in the heck will they get the baby from the hospital to the truck with out her freezing? But that was the problem for the next day!

After a week, I had to leave them, tearfully returning home, anxiously waiting for Emma's pictures to be emailed, with the almost daily updates from my daughter. I hated being so far away and not able to hold my granddaughter when ever I wanted. It just wasn't right!

They came back home last August. I was so full of joy to finally have my daughter and granddaughter back home. Emma with her funny faces, her hugs and sweet kisses. Krista so certain her child was a genius!

I have Vegas roots. My grandmother was born in Las Vegas, as was my mother, myself and all my kids and my grandson from my middle daughter. Are you seeing the very long roots here? My greatgrandmother came to Vegas in 1905 in a covered wagon, long, long deep roots. I don't care what the movie says, some of us have roots and we don't leave Las Vegas. We stay and have big birthday parties, family gatherings, weenie roasts and celebrate all holidays together. We don't move to Colorado.

"Yes, Krista, it's a beautiful town and it's a wonderful house, but what about jobs?" She has already checked out the schools, the safety of the town, found a job, as has David her husband. (Darn!) They have everything ready to go for the move in April. Now, it's not just Krista's leaving that tears my heart apart, but Emma. Cute, little Emma, who is just beginning to know her grandma. How will she remember me and know her grandma loves her?

"It really is beautiful, mom, you are going to love it. I can't wait for you to come and see it." I skim through the brochure and the pictures of their new house. I know she is excited, but her voice tells me she is afraid at the prospects of once again leaving home. My heart is screaming "please, don't go!" Instead, I give her a hug, holding on a little longer than usual and say "I am so happy for you, hon. It is a beautiful place."

She packs up Emma's things and we walk out to her car. She throws the babies things in the backseat and straps Emma into the car seat. She walks around and gives me one more hug. I take a step back and our eyes lock. We smile. We both say "I love you" at the same time. "Jinx" she says.

She gets in her car and backs out of the driveway while I smile the biggest smile I can muster and wave till she turns the corner. I walk back to the house and the tears flood my face, the damn finally allowed to break free. Sometimes the toughest thing about being a mom, is doing and saying what you know your kids need to hear from you. Even when you really don't mean one word!

Getting There

Well, it's not exactly what I was hoping, but it is getting there. After several days of cutting and pasting different html code or whatever the code is in the template, I have finally made a photo header!! YEA! Yes the side photo is me rapelling. I think it was easier to rapell down the cliff there than it was putting the darn picture in the right spot. Next, I will be trying to get the fonts changed and colors.

Tonight I can't spend too much time here as my dear hubby get's off tonite from the Phantom show and home at 9pm, as opposed to after midnight most nights. So, this will be a short night for me to dabble with the code and upload pictures.

Been a terribly hectic week at work, the lead actor died (for real!) and the show was supposed to open this weekend. Needless to say most of us were in shock and now I'm trying to get press out regarding postponing the show one week. Fortunately, the director is jumping in to fill the role and we didn't have to cancel. But, man, I've known Bob, the actor that died, for many years. This has been a real shocker.

And the name of the play? God of Hell. Welcome to my life!

Frustrated blogger

I've spent half of the night looking for a sight that offers 'free blogger templates' trying to find something that I could upload easily yet was indicative of my absolutely unique style. Unfortunately, I found nothing. Why is it so difficult to find a way to add a photo header? I have some great shots from trips to Italy and Mexico, and would love to utilize one for my header. But, no. After totally screwing up my blog (fortunately I saved a copy before messing around) I am right back with the same old blah template.

It is just too hard to find a template that says: hippie, peace, guitar, nature girl, mom. Why is that? A sunflower here, a guitar, peace signs, where are those templates?

Being the persistent one, I am off to search the ends of cyberspace! Hopefully, this sight will look new and fresh ..... soon!