Monday, November 30, 2009

These are photos from my last trip to the coast.

One of our feathered visitors. He thinks he owns the place... he does.

The pond is quiet right now. I did not spend a lot of time there. My usual Monday thing was happening. That has not yet changed... despite the divorce. X (the one formerly known as StbX) still needs a ride. Squeaky is still learning to drive. Soon...

This is a poor photo of a very nice thing. One of my students gave me a thank you letter for having the Book Fair... and for helping him to pick out a book that he enjoyed. I thought that perhaps his teacher had put him up to this... teachers do that sort of thing often.... but she said no... he did it all by himself. I like that he used a variety of colors. He put a good deal of effort into it don't you think? Kids always surprise me. The things that pop of their heads and mouths amuse me no end. This was sweet. These surprises make my job a happy one.

Ugh! A Walmart day. I went to pick up 3 things... which I had in my clutches within 5 minutes of walking through the automated doors. I stood in line for 20 minutes... behind some woman who insisted all of her things had to be hidden in paper bags... one slid over the open top of the others. Christmas has come to the check stands. I'm all for hiding things from Johnny so that he has a big surprise on Christmas day. However, I was tired and in a hurry. So I was cranky.

Tomorrow I will start posting photos of the Christmas lights. They are everywhere now. Our lamp posts are decorated and houses are lit up like forest fires.
But I love it when it looks like this here.
I've said it before... I am a magpie... if it's shiny, bright and pretty, I like it. Bring on the lights!

My Bear is nagging me to spend a weekend with her.
She says she misses me. So I have agreed to spend... not this weekend, which is dedicated to all things to do with the Oregon vs Oregon civil war on the football field... but the following weekend with the Bear. The game is Thursday... but you know, since I'll be there, I may as well stay awhile. Recuperate. Rest. Recharge.

There is talk of another trip to the coast in about a month, if all goes well. I'm up for that! I would like that very much. The ocean in winter here is beautiful and stormy. I like the storms and the big waves. I've never seen snow on the beach... wonder if I will? What does it look like when snowflakes fall in the sea?
If that happens, I will try to get a photo, but you know I'm not that good with a camera... so no promises.
And who knows what tomorrow brings?
It may not work out that we could go.
Then again... it might.
I like not being sure. Adds excitement and possibility.

Here's to wishing you all an exciting possibility of some sort coming your way. Big grins.

Flogging Molly - Black Friday Rule (c)

Hi everybody! What a bizarro holiday break this was.
You all know about the divorce being final and legal.

Thanksgiving was fun for me. I made the bird and all that goes with it. X ( formerly StbX) and all three of my boys were here. I spent most of mine in my room talking to the deer hunter between our separate family events.

Friday was the day I got my divorce pushed through. It was nerve-wracking at best. When I went to pay the cashier, there were extra fees... of course! So I dumped my purse out on the counter and between all my folding money and all the nickles, dimes and quarters just covered it by the fuzz in the bottom of my purse. Phew!

Then I raced home to yak at the deer hunter some more... until it was time to go to meet Frog D. Heavy sigh. What can I say... pult...zing... splat! It did not take me five minutes to determine that this would never work out. But I stayed and gave it a fair shot. He did bring me roses... that does not happen often in my life. Our ideas and politics are on opposite ends of the universe. My mind did not change an iota. One less frog in the pond. I did thank him for the nice diner and flowers. I felt a bit bad, but it just was not there.

On Saturday I was talking to the deer hunter about gut feelings. (Yes, these guys know about each other. ) Since I wasn't going to be busy, I was invited over to celebrate the divorce. He was a big help to me on legal issues involved. Promised to fill my gas tank if I could get there. Deal!

So off I went.
Had a great time I might add... I met his daughter and best friend. Nice people. Drove home pretty darned happy thinking about all the things I need to do to get my name changed everywhere. Feels good to be free.

Once home I did laundry. Remembered that I had forgotten to eat again... you have no idea how much that pleases me. So I ate a turkey sandwich. I had 127 emails. I deleted most and answered the rest. Here I sit now. I am tired from the drive, which was well worth it. I am happy. I wonder what my work week will be like. I'm looking at a short week. Big grin! At the end of it... I'll be back down south for the big game.

Life's looking fine.

Between now and then... who knows. The frogs have increased by two more. Not sure what to do about this... but they thin and then thicken... and thin again. Its interesting.

Friday, November 27, 2009





Happy dancing!

As of 11:00 A.M. today,

November 27, 2009

(my new birthday)

I am no longer a wife.

I am no longer a S*****

I have become ME again.


Wednesday, November 25, 2009


Happy Thanksgiving!

That's "Wilbur the Ugly Turkey".

Yikes what a day Wednesday was! I spent most of it on the divorce. Yeah... I think I need to get that pushed through. Met with StbX to do some notary stuff that we needed to do. The law changed on me and we had to do some forms to compensate for the newly required additions. Plus I added one that Deer Hunter told me about... the no waiting one. It waives your need to sit and wait for them to finish processing it. A judge looks at it and bangs his gavel and you are done. Yes sir-eee-bob, that's the divorce for me.

Did I ever tell you that I am a terrible procrastinator? Oh you guessed? Yes, I am.
But this I had to get done. Its way past due. I knew we had to do the changes. When I turned the final paper work back in today and the lady there looked it over and told me that there were new laws that required new forms to be added... I damn near cried.

I told her "You do not understand. I am going to go insane if I don't get this finished."

She was very sympathetic and gave me a hug and said "I promise you are almost done. This is the last thing you have to do. And I'll be here on Friday." So I pinned her down to an appointment time...and got her word again that this is it.
Do it yourself divorce is very stressful.

If all goes as she promised, then this time on Friday... I am going to no more be a Mrs.S


My name will suddenly be my maiden name again.


I thought about that on the way home. How odd will that be? I'll have to change all sorts of stuff... my license for one. My employment stuff, my banking. Geez... this stuff never ends. But I don't want to be an S anymore. That family... my kids excluded... are whack! I might be too, but I'd rather be "me" than one of "them". Besides, my maiden name is very strange and not easily pronounced. I always had fun with that. Imagine how the school kids will deal with that one!

I can lose the initials "B.S."

hee hee

Of course I do not much care for the initials "B.K."

I'll use "R.K." instead. Don't want to be confused with a fast food
burger joint.

Well wish me luck with it. Thanks to Deer Hunter my troubles may soon be less. That felt good once I got over the disappointment of not having it happen today.

Okay... enough glee over that. On to turkey day.

Menu is simple. Bird, yams, salad, dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy. Pecan pie for desert.

Family: Boo, Squeaky, StbX and Max. I didn't think that Max was going to make it. Very sad about that, but he did. So the house will be full of boys. Cool beans.

As for the frog pond. Hummmm... not a lot to say there either. Still communicating with the ones that I have been communicating with for a time. I am supposed to meet D on Friday. I have learned not to trust that a meeting will happen. And the plan has been on again and off again. We'll see about that... if.
Lost a frog that I didn't have much interest in. Maybe that's why huh?
But gained one new one. Hummm...The pond is a strange place.


BTW I don't expect many of you to show up today.

You are excused. But remember to push your chair in when you leave please.


And so it begins...the official start of the Holiday Goodie Work War. The war is different for each individual. There are no clear rules. One must abide by their own and be true to themselves.

For some its a bake-off... who can make the best / tastiest treat. They trade recipes like baseball cards and even have them pre-printed out for the taking.

For others the war becomes a race... see who can get to the goodies fastest and get the most. We used to have one teacher that always won this version of the war.
I swear he visited that staff room hourly if not more.
When he retired a few years back, the war took on fresh competitors.

Then there are the dessert vs. health food folk. This used to be mainly veggie trays with dubiously fattening dips, considering the goal of healthy eating. But they have become more creative, as you can see.

This photo makes me laugh. Know what that is? Its a mini doughnut "oreo" made from two chocolate mini doughnuts and a powdered sugar mini doughnut smashed between. This guy gets extra points in the "I don't have time to cook but I did bring something store bought anyway" war. Creative!

I do not belong to those wars. I belong to the "I have to avoid the staff room goodies at all cost" war. But I have a coffee jones that won't quit. You know where the coffee pot lives? Yep on the counter right across from all the goodies. I have developed a strategy that involves imaginary blinders in my head as I walk swiftly to the coffee pot and do not even look at the table. I also buy the largest coffee that the Shell station has to offer and by-pass that room for as long as humanly possible. I have been known to wind my way down to the custodian's domain and beg coffee from his coffee pot in the basement. Because there is one firm rule in the Holiday Goodie Work War... if you do not grab a goodie early enough, they will be gone. By that time the coffee pot is empty and I have to take the time to make a new one. Small sacrifice to make. Besides, the coffee is fresher for it.

My only other form of defense comes in the form of the scale in the health room. A nice big docotor's office version that is accurate. It is actually more of a daily defense in general. I fanatically weigh myself every morning as soon as I put my coat and purse in the library. I walk down the hall and step on the scale.

I know "experts"... that I suspect have never tried to lose weight... say you should not weigh everyday. The body has natural ups and downs. I suppose the idea is not to get disappointed with the flux affect.

However, I strongly disagree. I find the flux effect to be a motivational tool. I am aware that it does indeed go a bit up and down. But nothing makes me more determined than to see the flux effect. I know its a soup or yogurt and fruit day if it goes up... and the next day the flux will go in the opposite direction. I also increase my water intake and generally take on an extra half hour of walking. I know the direction I am determined to go. That scale reminds me what I am doing... and though I hate looking at the result some days, it makes me stay in line by re-setting my resolve daily. And because I have the keys to my magical kingdom, there is not one single day that I miss stepping on that evil tool.

What can I say... The Holiday Goodie at Work War is an odd kind of hell no matter what your individual rules are like.

On other fronts. Last night the frog pond was nearly silent. The D frog's computer has crashed... he's down to texting and phone calls for "big" things. Two have fallen from sight and one I pulted when I found out that he was living in a half-way house for people coming out of prison... says he is the manager. Okay, but I am not willing to take that chance. Two new frogs showed up on the slow but safe communication site. Too early to make any choice there. Another can only communicate during afternoon hours... and I only communicate outside of work. Limits time drastically but really how much is there to say to someone you don't know all that well anyway? As for my favorite frog, he was oddly silent last night. Most nights he is there the entire night until bed time... through "frog juggling hours". No worries... he too has been having trouble with his computer. But its more of a poor service issue and he is doing battle with his service. I suspect he may have told them to go to hell and is switching. I knew it was a possibility. Besides, our last communication was verification enough for me that he is indeed there...somewhere. He'll be back.
Big grins.

The ankle is okay. My doc was on vacation... naturally. I have not seen another in 22 years. It was a bit odd to see a new guy... who asked me to try ibuprofen despite knowing that my regular doc does not allow me to take it. He says that he thinks that I can... to try it and if he is wrong I get to go back and do an "I told you so!" dance. I agreed on the condition that he be the one to dance a "I was wrong" dance instead. Done deal.

The doc says that I have "frayed" a couple of ligaments. The good news is that I did not totally tear them off the bone, so its not so bad. My only real concern here is my obsession with walking. I am unwilling to stop. He agreed that it serves me very well and I should not. I can continue to walk with a brace that adds compression... have to pick that up today. Right now it is wrapped. He also suggested that I begin water walking. Not on water. In water. Says it will not only be easier on my ankle with the added plus of burning way more calories. Water creates resistance, which is what I want and I can exercise my arms better too.
Makes sense to me. I'm going to scope out the pool across the river and see if it is workable.

Other than that, I have his permission to continue to walk as long as I am taking ibuprofen before to block any pain and to keep swelling down. Pain I can do on my head. Meanwhile back to the stretches that the physical therapy god gave me... and a good slow warm up.
Cool beans.

So do any of you have to face a Holiday Goodie Work War? If so what is your strategy?

Have a great Wednesday!

Hey... for a great laugh go here:
posted by Michael at Innocents and Accidents, Hints and Allegations

Thanks Michael!

Happy Thanksgiving to all.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Janis Joplin - Summertime (Live Gröna Lund 1969)

This post is about women in music that have influenced me. Like I said before... I am not musically inclined and there is no great knowledge here for me to impart. I just know what I like. I wanted to add them in after doing the 15 post on music albums. It did not seem right to leave them out. And hey... who ever knew I liked stuff like this? Ha. Not exactly punk or metal is it? Well... you'll see.

Janice way down at the bottom there has a big role in my musical world. She requires no explanation. You either like her or you don't.

Most of these gals you know. You might not know one musical group... but maybe you do. I'll start off with them. Joy of Cooking. A bay area band... we're talking San Francisco when I say "bay" and while they were known to those of us who lived in the sphere of California's music world at that point in time... they may not have reached as far as you. And, you may be too young to recall them anyway.

2 nd part of Dancing couple & Brownsville/mockingbird by Joy of Cooking live performance from a Berkeley gig in 1972 from double cd " Back to your heart" available @ Buy it! Their best known song & footage from the peoplepark incident & dancing in the sixties & Joy photo's out of many sources. Often from the documentary " Berkeley in the sixties"

Keeping with the bay area sounds... not a girl group, but you cannot think of that period of music with out hearing Grace Slick in your head. Okay... I can't.

One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small,
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all.
Go ask Alice
When she's ten feet tall.

The next lady is Rita Coolidge with a Bob Dylan song.
Rita Coolidge

I can't leave out lovely Linda! This is my favorite Jackson Browne song... but she does it justice.

Linda Ronstadt - Rock Me On The Water (1974) 3:37
LP recorded (noise red.)

This woman had a profound effect on me. I don't even think I can explain it. You have heard her if you know it or not. Merry Clayton. I like the blurb that came with this... so I left it in.
Street Fighting Woman!
Merry was the woman dueting with Mick on the Rolling Stones' original 1969 recording of "Gimme Shelter". Who better to interpret it the following year than Merry herself? She's accompanied on keys by her friend, the immeasurably important Billy Preston, who was as much the Sixth Stone as the Fifth Beatle in these years. The galloping roar of guitar may be David T. Walker, although the album credits don't clarify.
She was born on Christmas Day, and what a gift!

Okay, most folk can remember Judy Collins... she's the woman that Suite for Judy Blue Eyes was written for by Stephen Stills.
She has a very breathy voice. I read somewhere that it was because she had TB. Not sure if that is true or not though. I like this song best... no I D photo with it but it has muppets!
I hope that link works okay. It's a cute video.

I wanted to put in a video of Billie Holiday, but could not get it to transfer. Rats. "It was Aint Nobody's Business if I do".

Okay. That's about it
... had to do a quick one. I went to drive StbX home and managed to slip on the wet steps and cream my ankle. I am not a happy camper. Gonna have to get a sub and ask the Bear to drive me to see my doc. What a pisser when walking was working so well for me! Such is life. So let me leave you with a funny song and a great lady.

big yellow taxi joni mitchell in concert 1970.

Have a fantastic Tuesday. Hope yours is less painful than mine... though I am more mad at myself than in pain at this point. Frozen veggies on the ankle help. It's probably just a sprain. We will see. It made a nasty sound. More fun and games. Sheesh. Hope it does not set me back too far.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Back from the south land. Had a lot of fun. The turkey pot luck was a trip and a bit funny. Turns out that it was his mother's camping group that get together to have pot lucks when they aren't camping. So I met a ton of people in their seventies who camp... heard funny camping stories. His mom and step dad were very nice. Step dad invited me to come and visit them. That was nice. I even got invited to come and look in some lady's trunk at yard sale stuff. Ha! Yes, I did.

Well let's see... we watched the Ducks win Arizona. Killer game.
Now its between the Ducks and the Beavers... both Oregon teams for the Rose Bowl. The Beavers beat Stanford, who was the Duck's only loss. That is going to be a heck of a game. Wish I could see that one in person, since the stadium is near his place, but its been sold out since the season started. Oh well. Other than that not much to tell. I made pecan pies... one for my family and one for his and a couple of little ones for him to have with ice cream.

On a very happy note... congratulations to Cube on being an auntie of a new baby boy! Woot! Glad to hear that it all worked out okay. Great news!

Well, folks. It was a long drive home from a trip well worth taking. I am happily tired and looking forward to my walk early in the morning. (Its still Sunday night for me now.) I think I'll stick my wash into the dryer and get myself to bed. Its turkey day week... lots to do. Have a terrific Monday. I will. This is a short week for me. We get the day before Thanksgiving off too.
Very cool beans.

So what are your plans for Turkey Day? I'm filling mine with family.

Friday, November 20, 2009


Once upon a time, long, long ago Miss Bliss had yet another birthday… though at that time the number was still small…19. Life was good. She was in a relationship… a hard won relationship where the guy had been the prize. The contest had been between her and her dear friend, who shall be called Assassin… and in fact would later continue that friendship using that as her friend’s name in communications… calling herself, aptly, Asylum on each note she signed. Let us say that for a time she felt that she had gone insane.

The contest for the guy had been simple. They had both adored him… swooned over him for over a year. The unattainable mystery man who had perfect pitch and a musical recall that was divine. He could hear a song once and then sit down and play it. Did that in fact one day… the first time either he or Bliss had heard Over the Hills and Far Away. Sat right down and played it back for Bliss on a 12 string. But my mind wanders… He was much sought after and avoided being tied down. What do you do when you both like the same guy? Well, we decided that the first one to get him to kiss her would win. The other would gracefully back off and let the other have him. Yeah… right.

Bliss never thought of herself as competitive. She was for the most part very giddy but otherwise laid back… took great joy in the odd things that she could find to do. By odd I mean, well… strange. As Gonzo the Muppet says “Silly’s bad, weird is good!” (though not for years after this). You could not find a more mellow person than Bliss, who avoided drama like the plague. Crazy was okay too. As long as it was fun and no one got hurt. No more dithering… you have the back ground and a healthy foreshadowing of the issue here. But only part. Let us call this man… GMan… for guitar man.

GMan had a 57’ Chevy Bellaire. What a great car! All through Ananda year GMan drove them around in it… Assassin was always first up front, so Bliss rode in the back usually alone. Wrote a poem about that too. Bugged the piss right out of her! Revved that competitive spirit right up to overdrive. There had to be a way… Yep, heaven help the unwary. Bliss was a creative gal who could bide her time and remain in the back seat only so long. One night she got her chance when there was something that the Assassin’s mother said she had to attend. Hee hee. (Give that a good evil tone, will ya!)

Sorry again… no details. Let us just say she won in a very devious (deviant?) way. Hee hee. But all is fair in love and war and the lines had been drawn. Bliss won the prize… and gloated horribly. Assassin for her part seemed to take it well and took a giant step back… waiting for Bliss to fall flat on her face, no doubt. Bliss would have been lesser person had she lost. Indeed. But Karma has a one hand clap for those who dabble in arrogance!

A few weeks later, they learned that Steve Miller, King Crimson and someone gone from my brain cells were to play at Filmore West. It was decided that the four of them… because the Cuckoo was always present as GMan’s best friend and something odd else. (Give him any role you wish.) But he was crazy about Bliss. It was decidedly the most odd of relationships between the four of us… all attempting to manage to stay together while jockeying for positions. Still it made things awkward at best and Bliss was more than willing to ditch Cuckoo for the concert.

The plan was to stay at GMan’s friend’s home, Walnetto… then to manage to locate and visit the Cartoonist (Okay if you have been a reader here long, you should be able to figure that guy out.) who had moved to SF to their group’s dismay.

It should have been a great time. Bliss triumphantly tossed her backpack in the Chevy and took the front seat. It was hers now by right. It was Assassin’s turn to be in the back alone.

There they were outside the Filmore West. As the line moved up slowly, it became obvious that people were being searched. Hummmm… it was Bliss’s birthday and she had a full lid in her purse. How good could she be at getting in with it? Too public to stash it quickly in her underwear…She accepted that challenge and failed! The police were busy busting a guy in the line next to hers when it happened. HOLYMOTHER F****** S***! She was certain that she was about to see what the inside of SF’s jail looked like. But never to be held back, she put on her best sad look and the attendant took pity on her… stuffing her glorious full lid into his tiny drawer at his search station and told her to get inside quick. HA! No jail tonight!

But I’ll lay money that the attendant had a great buzz later. Small price to pay.

The relief she felt was enough for her to shake it off… there were lids and they were cheap in those days. Daddy always gave her money… the pot business was thriving… and at concerts things were always passed around. Life was still good. The birthday magic was holding firm. She was inside and she was safe. Her assumption held true. Joints were passed around as they waited for the music to begin, each gal sitting on either side of the prize. Their excitement increased and they chatted happily.

Then she was telling her I-almost-got-popped-story… because Bliss cannot resist a story telling… to a nice looking man in the row ahead of her… including the fact that it was her birthday… what a day to lose your lid! No hidden guile here… she was after that fatty the man was smoking. Gentleman that he was NOT, he passed it to her. She took a few good lungs worth and passed it on to her fella. He passed it to the Assassin. Then it was quickly passed back. GMan was whispering something to Assassin. Never mind, thought Bliss… no problem here. Her confidence swelled like a banana fish. Damn but that was odd tasting pot… but wow… her mind was exploding… and she accepted the joint back with eager anticipation of better explosions to come. The not a gentleman smiled wide at her. She grinned back and he nodded at her to keep puffing… so she did.

“Would you quit smoking that shit!” GMan demanded. HUH? She hit again and again.

“Bliss… STOP! ITS DUST.” He shouted. Puff, puff… dust? Puff, puff…HUH? OH!” She handed it back. The not a gentleman nodded at her to keep it. She shook her head and said she had had enough. Right about then things got weird. A band came on… the house lights dimmed and Bliss was tossed into the music.

At some point, the need to pee made it’s way into her not very conscience mind. She told GMan, who passed that problem on to Assassin, who rolled her eyes and made a snorting sound, stuck out her hand and hauled Bliss off to the ladies’ room… at least that was what was supposed to happen. Walking was a problem. All of SF had managed to tilt to one side and it was as if Bliss was on a rolling ocean liner. This made Bliss have a terrible case of the giggles and she began to sing… quite badly… Thirty Days in the Hole… and lost the Assassin about when she hit the words… “It takes a dirty whore and a rolling dance floor to give me my release…” as the ocean liner drifted off somewhere without her. Bliss was afloat in a sea of bodies and music. She used her hands along the wall to keep herself upright.

Then she arrived to semi-alert in a strange place. There were very few people and she still needed to pee like a race horse needs to run. But where was she? Confusion set in, so she did what she could and stood still… a dangerous balancing act on no a high wire. A rather concerned looking god in overalls came up and peered at her face… asked if she was okay. She croaked out “no”. He nodded and found her a chair. She sat… and confessed… “Some guy dusted me. I have to pee.” Ah… the silver tongue! He nodded again, took her by the hand and led her to a nice little private bathroom. He, who was a gentleman, waited outside.

To this day Bliss cannot recall what happened after for an undetermined interlude. But she may have seen Robert Fripp walk past and glace her way. He may have been someone else. And there were others who just sort of accepted that she was sitting there quietly trying not to fall out of her chair… in awe. It was a bit foggy back there. No brain cell activity was firing. Then the good stranger in the over alls returned to ask how she was doing… and Bliss dared to stand up. He asked if she thought she could make it back now. She agreed that she could. He steered her by her shoulders to a door and all the sound returned… music, the ocean of people. Gentleman that he was, he asked if she could make it back again. Bliss thanked him profusely and started forward. But he caught her elbow and called to someone… who came to look at Bliss’s ticket stub. A furry man, a short man. He smiled and led her back to her seat’s row, pointed and left her to crawl across the knees to sit at last next to GMan. Safe again.

Who knows how long that ocean voyage had lasted? Time had lost its grip for Bliss, but she was content to be where she belonged. How long could it have taken if the Assassin and GMan had not thought to come looking for her? Talk was impossible at this point, so she leaned back in her seat to enjoy the show.,, though time and awareness both eluded her. When King Crimson hit the stage, she perched on the edge of her seat… trying to see and compare with the foggy memory if that was indeed Mr. Frip. The strangeness of the music carried her mind away several times… poor girl never did figure that out for sure. So she let it lay at rest.

This night, Michael Giles, the usual drummer was absent. In his place was Bill Brufordan amazing drummer from Yes… who began an awesome drum solo. Bliss peered at the man who was spinning as he drummed… the whole drum set spun with him. It took her a moment to get that this was part of the act. It truly was spinning. He was wearing overalls with no shirt. Bliss considered this carefully and tired harder to see him. She looked at GMan who was enrapt with the music and looked back again. Could it have been the man who was a gentleman? Bliss will never know. So much for the glory of being high. In all honesty, she could not see or think straight for a good amount of time. The one thing that she is sure of is that Greg Lake, was there to sing.

As concerts go, it was outstanding. Bliss was sort of aware again by the time Steve Miller played and enjoyed that very much. But angle dust has some odd property that makes a person behave in a strange manor… Bliss became royally pissed on the ride back to Walnetto’s over absolutely nothin. This anger made her stew something terribly and she was not a kind person to be around. By the time they got there, she was in a snit, pacing and being generally the worst company possible. Both the Assassin and GMan tip toed around and left her to stew.

Then the worst thing in the world happened for that moment in time. GMan told her that he wanted to screw the Assassin. One tiny bit of information that was way too big for her brain. He asked permission! Permission? Ha! What an idiot! So Bliss screwed her face up and said “I guess that’s up to you.” Then she marched over to her sleeping bag and zipped herself in tight.

The Assassin broke Bliss’s poor angry heart and he did too. Turns out he was not much of a prize after all. The mission to see the Cartoonist fell in the wake of her silent wrath. They loaded themselves into the Chevy… Bliss purposely set her livid self into the back seat alone and spoke only when spoken to… simmering on high. They returned to Bliss’s home because the parents were out of town. Cuckoo was there waiting… a fact that further fueled the fire behind her slitted eyes. Soon after she would pitch the biggest meanest fit of her life… and throw every one out to the last man.

That was it for GMan. He made the wrong choice. For her part, I think that Assassin felt really bad. I know that GMan did. But hey… you make your choices in life and you have to live with the consequence. Including Bliss’s for not screaming No in his face. Yet then, she might not have met the Esq. who was her fiancée for a time… until he made a bad choice too… and she made another by stealing the Esq’s best friend and nailing him to the cross… becoming a wife… sealing the door on Miss Bliss. Goodness but Bliss has made some poor choices!

But then she would never have had the wonderful children she did… and that was the best choice she ever made. But Bliss is back and relatively happy. An end to one thing and the beginning of another. And so it goes.

I guess the moral of this story is best summed up by Heroin Bob who wisely told me

"Drugs make you stupid."

What a horrible birthday from hell. I possibly had the opportunity of a lifetime to meet some very high quality musicians and was too high to enjoy it. I lost big hunks of time that I have no idea what I did or did not do... chunks of time like missing jigsaw puzzle pieces. I was betrayed by the two people closest to me. Yikes.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. I will not be at my box on rocks. I'm off to a turkey pot luck. It should be an interesting adventure. I haven't been to meet anyone's mom in a long time. It's a strange experience for me. But that is fine... I still enjoy odd things... new things. Wish me luck.

Now here is a bit of music for you to enjoy, please do!

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Today... a guest post by thebear.

As you know, Bear is my silver hair child... she gave me lots of reasons to grow them. However, she has redeemed herself many times over. She is my best friend, my only daughter and one of the best people I have the pleasure of knowing. She has recently gone back to college to become a nurse. I am extremely proud of her. This is a piece she wrote for her writing class. Writing is not new to the Bear. She wrote poetry in high school that her teacher raved about and she is also an excellent speaker.It is my joy to share her with you today.

I was everyone’s favorite drunk girl, the life of every party. You could find me wherever the alcohol was flowing. I loved my life. It was exciting with never a dull moment. I lived the way I wanted to live. However, my life was about to forever change in a way I had never thought possible and in a direction I never thought that I wanted. On August 13, 2006, I found the saying, “Every cloud has a silver lining” to be true.

On a warm summer night, he hopped over the railing of the deck and into my life forever. His name was Mikey P. From our first encounter I knew he was the one who would change my life, but I didn’t know just how much. We were both on a path of self destruction. Both of us allowed our lives to be fueled by alcohol. We were an imperfect match. We moved quickly into a whirlwind of a relationship which included his many stays in NORCOR corrections facility. Each time he was released we would throw him a welcome home party, beginning, yet again an alcohol induced romance. We really didn’t know each other all too well, but we didn’t care as long as we were drunk. As we were hitting the fifth month of our on and off relationship, Michael landed himself in jail and was facing a four month sentence. It was the end of something; I could feel it. This time Michael and I decided it was time to attempt to change the course of our lives, since he was looking at a long stay and a forced sobriety, maybe I should try to be sober, too. The next ten days would lead to finale of the party girl phase.

I woke up August 12, 2006 knowing it was time to wind down and focus on sobriety. I felt sick to my stomach and had been feeling ill quite regularly, I had even blacked out at work, collapsing onto the floor. I was sure I was going to die if I didn’t do something about the alcohol abuse. At the time I had passed out at work, the EMT asked me if was pregnant or if I had taken any drugs.My reply was, to my knowledge, honest and a quick “HELL NO!” But the symptoms persisted. I thought, “Could I be pregnant?” I bought a pregnancy test and put it aside until the morning. That night I smoked some weed and decided to go for a walk. I walked through town until I found a party. The question still lingered in my head “Could I REALLY be pregnant?” I had no appetite for alcohol that night, the party girl had disappeared, and I barely finished five beers before I said my goodbyes and went home, retreating to my bed. I woke up at 6:00am August 13th, before anyone was awake so I could have complete privacy. I snuck quietly into the bathroom, the test hidden under my shirt. I sat on the toilet, did the business, and waited for what felt like an eternity. In actuality, it only took about twenty seconds for the two lines to appear and reveal my future.

There it was on that little stick, this little cloud looming over head. It was a brutal stab in the chest. Of all things needed in my life, a child was not the likely ???admixture. The real

ization was difficult, but the hardest was yet to come. I know and now he needs to know. I wrote the longest, most in depth, and scariest letter ever written; sealed it and addressed it to 201 Webber Rd. The Dalles, OR. I sent it on a Monday and still hadn’t received a reply by the following Saturday visit. I was nervous, anxious, and frightened. I shook as I signed in. Patiently waiting to see Michael, I worried “Will he accept my visit?” and “What will he say?” The doors unlocked and I walked into the windowed visitors section to find him smiling arrogantly, eyes full of excitement. It was a sobering event. He was happy. It was what he needed to see the light, and I too felt it come together. In an instant, an amazing feeling of hope struck me like lightning. The cloud lifted and shifted away. Michael was soon approved to be released from NORCOR to go to the ARC rehabilitation facility to gain the knowledge to begin fresh, for me I had no choice, I had to be sober. I could never go back.

Michael was in rehab for a month. While he worked on himself, I worked hard, got an apartment, and prepared for his arrival. When he came home for the first time, I was four and a half months pregnant. A month later we found out we were having a little boy.

Our son was born April 7, 2007.

We named him Michael. He is two and a half now, full of energy and life. His lively spirit still catches me off guard. The little cloud that hung over head never came back. Michael and I are going on four years sobriety. We found what we looking for- unconditional love, a reason to get up every morning, a reason to be responsible. The silver lining is a bright little boy, with big brown eyes, who wakes up every morning with a smile on his face and always reminds me that he loves mommy.

I could never imagine my life if I had never been given a second chance. Sometimes when something happens unexpectedly, we feel like the world has ended. But in some cases we get just what we needed. I couldn’t be any happier with the way things turned out


Good job Bear! I could not be happier or more proud if I tried. I am so glad that you have found happiness and that you have given me such a marvelous set of gifts... your sobriety, because I worried so much for both of you, your Mikey P. who is a wonderful loving and concerned son and that precious precocious Michael, affectionate rascal and grandma's boy. Thank you for allowing me to post this today.

I would only add one small footnote to thebear's story... the day she passed out at work, the person first on the scene was the same police officer who had brought my drunken 15 year old beauty home safe and sound one scary evening. How interesting that she... the police officer would be at the beginning and the end of thebear's party girl days.

And forgive her? How could I not... this nut did not fall far from the tree.

My own mini Miss Bliss.

Pay back is a m.f.

This is the email she sent me last night... note the writing style here!

Oh... it's delivered with love, bet on it.

"so i will have to do the pics tomorrow, I am tired and going to bed now. I have a B in my writing class by the way. I found out tonight, so exciting! woot woot!
loves!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! to the moon and back bitch"

Loves to you too, bratt... to the moon and beyond the farthest stars!


Have an outstanding day! I am. thebear is right... it's good to have a reason to get up in the morning. I hope your reasons are half as great as mine... that would make you rich indeed.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009


Okay folks... this is the final 5 of my 15 albums. I thought about just doing those albums that I'd love to have with me if stranded on an island paradise, but really... there are so many! I'm terrible about making choices. This was really hard to do. So I opted for those that influenced me and led to my personal musical taste.

Pink Floyd found me. I did not find them. I was babysitting in a crazy household where there was a constant stream of "cousins" who visited the woman I worked for at the time. I was 16. One of these "cousins" came into the room after the kiddos were in bed and plopped down next to me. He began to play a song on the guitar... and silly thing, asked ME for my advice. (Yes, I am aware that he was simply hitting on me.) He was trying to figure out a song he said and picked away at the chords.

When I said that I did not know that song... he provided the album. It was not Dark Side of the Moon, but Atom Heart Mother. They had one of those funny egg chairs with the speakers inside... and he put me in there to listen... I was totally blown away. I have adored every single thing they have had to offer. This would be my absolute favorite... being somewhat lunatic and brain damaged myself I identify with it completely. They do not fit any category that I can think of, they simply are what they are. There are no others like them. I let them speak for themselves.


Pink Floyd - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

This next album represents Steve Miller... all of it. A fine fellow who has stories to share. There is a story of my own attached to The Steve Miller Band. A bit of a nightmare really. I have said many times that astounding things happen on my birthday. They do. I don't know why, they just do. It's a Miss Bliss story really... so instead, I'll tell it properly on Friday Fables this week. But keep in mind that it is a difficult one to tell and it involves the concert that I attended and altered my life utterly.

The Steve Miller Band was a passion of one of my teachers. The teacher I look back on and say... this was the one who really did something positive for me. That is another tale for yet another day. But it was Bill E who got me hooked on this band the year that I went to Ananda School in our music appreciation class. Getting hooked is what led eventually to the nightmare tale mentioned above.

Many years later, my husband would deliver a load of steel roofing to Steve Miller's home studio... and he would tell this marvelous musician that I was his... Steve Miller's.... greatest fan. Then came home without an autograph! What??? Why would you not ask for one? Sheesh!
Steve Miller Band - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Leon Russell and Marc Benno's Asylum Choir II. Not near as well known as Leon's Carnival album, but it got me hooked on Leon's southern story telling style. Leon Russell led me to Rita Coolidge and her soft deep soft voice... which led to Joe Cocker... which led to Bonny and Delaney... which... brought me back to Eric Clapton... and on and on... until I came to the man below.

Leon Russell - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

I cannot think of a b
etter story teller in music than Jackson Browne. Again, I cannot stress enough that the musical telling of stories is what makes me enjoy these albums.

Jackson Browne - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

I love the way that stories roll out of this man. And they are stories that we can all related to in some way. People stories. Everyday people stories.

All of the above albums are from way back when. But I'll now include a newer one at the end of my 15 because this group had a profound effect on me. My son, Max is into punk. I listen to what my kids play... because it's part of being a good parent to know what your kids are into and well, because I love music. My love for these gentlemen began in the car on a trip to the town to the left. The music is quick to capture you... the stories are funny and sad and highly entertaining. They compel you to want to sing along. Finding them, led me into other groups... Flogging Molly, The Pogues, and so on for what is often called Irish Punk.

I have purposely not put them on my blog much. Because the temptation to over play them would ruin it for others. But the pleasure I take from listening to The Dropkick Murpys goes beyond the music. Okay... what the heck does that mean?

I got an MP3 player for Christmas. StbX actually bought it for me at no small expense. I did not expect to get a thing from him. We did not exchange presents usually... so that was sort of a huge deal. When I got it home, Max decided that he would download music that he thought I would enjoy... I requested these fellows.

I listened happily for days and sucked up every note. Then I got curious and went to check out their web site.
Dropkick Murphys » splash
At that time they had sort of a mission statement about what they believed. I tired to find it for this post, but I can't. So pardon me for paraphrasing it. Basically it was tollerance for others and some other good stuff I agreed with and then it also mentioned that we need to look at ourselves find our flaws and work to correct what we can... to be the best person you can be.

Okay, not a new concept is it? But something about it struck a chord in my head. That was the day that I decided that my fate belonged to me. I was not a happy person. I was tired of being unhappy. No fairy god mother was going to come and rescue me... get off my duff and do it myself. "Change my stars." (a quote from A Kinght's Tale). I took a hard long look at myself and made a plan. The next morning I began to walk. The more I walked, the more confidence I had in my ability to succeed at what I wanted to do. Every morning I got up at an ungodly hour and popped these fellows to my ears and away we all went.

That is how it goes with this band... the audience is part of the band... that's their idea. You are expected to sing, dance... whatever, you join right in a become part of the band in one of their shows. And so The Dropkick Murphys are here for the most part because they kept me from feeling so alone, They offered me a strange inclusion and lent lyrics that were about working hard to be a better person that encouraged me to continue and know that I could do this. You just keep getting back up... Stand up and fight. Every damn day I do. Everyday it gets a bit better.

Not to mention that they are full of great stories.

( This one's for Suldog who got me into this kettle of fish!)

Whatever you do today... take time to listen to something that you enjoy.