These are the faces I see on a mostly constant basis. I say, mostly, because, Nonna I do not see everyday. And well, Zio Corrado is in Italy and we don't know when we will see him again. They are pictured above with Frank with the very large cordless phone and cigar. This was at his Mom's (Nonna's) on Mother's Day. Note the very intent Italian expression on everyones faces. You see that a lot in Italian photo's - the old ones mostly.

Same day. Sweet Bri and Sweet Lexi. Never, NEVER look in Lexi's cup! I said that once at the table and Uncle Vince.....oops, I almost forgot his picture...silly me; here he is.......so anyway, I must have mentioned it at the table, and he happened to catch it and asked "Why not," and went for her cup. EEwww, oh no. ick ick ick.

I'm trying not to let him, but Frank, who grew up with him, says, "let him figure it out."

He takes the cup, looks inside; pretty much, whatever she's eating, and drinking, end up IN the cup - you have NO idea what backwash truly is. Trust me! So don't EVER look in Lexi's cup. Or sit next to her, if you can avoid it. I usually sit next to her, because I like to; but she will demand to sit next whom she wants to sit next to her. boy I hope that makes sense.

I just happened to notice, that the picture of Uncle Vince is NOT at Nonna's house. Didn't want to confuse anyone. But if I did, welcome to my world. That was actually taken at our house the night before Zio left to go back home. Notice, I got a picture of them SMILING! I almost uploaded the one of them NOT smiling. almost. I have a bad habit of talking in circles about absolutely nothing at all, explaining things that really don't need to be explained, like the picture, where it was taken and when it was taken. Didn't really matter. AAhh, maybe not, but to someone in my weird little migrainey strange and confused misfiring neuronally screwed up mind of a world - it really does matter. You should live inside of it. moving right along now

Here is another face I can't get enough of. And we can't wait to see this pretty boy's face when he gets home . Because it's been just too stinking long since the government has allowed him to come home.

Little Miss Muffet. Frank's Grandbaby Vanessa. Gotta love that face! She is too much fun! The kids all have a ball together. OOH. The Apple Farm pics! This child is precious. Any way, I really just wanted to write about the faces I love. The people I love.

Who couldn't love this face!

Or this one?




and just take a look

if you

dare

at this bizzare child of mine

I am surrounded by oddities just like me. The sign behind her, if you haven't read it before, says, "Be Nice or Go Away."

OOOOOO Oh OH OH OH OH OH OH The green door behind her stocking head, that she isn't using to rob any corner store or bank or anything like that. YET. duh. Anyway, it's being ripped from it's hinges (v e r y s l o w l y) I might add, and being installed with the pretty new one I purchased. (Cause you know Frank's company may be going belly-up soon) It's all over the news.

Get this! Get a phone call from the pre-auth-operator yesterday. Yes - OPERATOR. The operator called ME, asked me to PUSH 1 for freaking English, which pisses me off. Where do I live again, excuse me? Wait, when did I have my last period??

Right, 1 for English, then a bunch of other stupid numeros.......... I get Ms. I-really-don't-like-my-job-so-much-today asking the same mundane Q?; dob, address, blah blah blay, I answer yes to everything. And I'm thinking to her tone, "Hmmm, she obviously doesn't have a lot of interest in her good benefits to her state job"her monotone lousy attitude is sounding, so I begin to answer her with a smile, thinking, maybe it'll change her tone a little. It didn't. She was still, snotty.

She starts asking questions about the insurance and Frank's employment; I tell her where he works, which of course is at the local branch of one of the Big Three that have been in the news. Hmm, now this seems to have sparked a note of sudden curiosity and happiness to her personality. So glad to have helped Ms. Glum.

And then she asks me this: "So, is he going to take the buyout!?" With all the happiness and excitement I'd heard out of her yet. I couldn't believe it. First, I couldn't believe she would ask a complete stranger something she obviously knows nothing about, other than her own personal greed and ignorance. And second, that it would make her so completely giddy.

Interuption - the sound of my dog being impaled by a large piece of styrofoam as it falls down the stairs, has rendered me completely useless to do anything but laugh my fool head off at him. This is exactly how it happened and I am NOT lying!! I swear to you on my MIGRAINE head it happened just like this:

As I was typing away, I suddenly hear the sound of both (cringing now, go ahead because you will too) two big pieces of styrofoam, like 3ft in length, rubbing together, and coming down the upper set of stairs. AND Rocco, now running about 58mph, down same set of stairs, and whining, loud. AND THEN......... of course by now, I stop typing

C R A S H ! ! ! !

goes the dog on tile, WITH screaching styrofoam. OK, now I'm hearing claws on tile and howling. And laughter. Wait, that's me. Because, I can't stop laughing. This dog is truly, dumber than a bag of rocks. He is supposed to appear to be my staunch protector, you know, while all these guys are here working on the house. Not getting chased down the stairs by foam.

Where is he right now? Well, immediately after this near-death experience, he begged to be let outside. He is refusing to come in. He's.

sunbathing.

This dog needs serious help. I know how he's getting dressed for Halloween. He is going to be a FAIRY! I don't care what any of those smiling, goofy faces say. I make the costume. I am here all day with that beast. I woke up next to that snoring, smelly thing at 3:30 this morning IN MY BED! He who deserves the costume, wears it! He's getting the Fairy wings and that's all there is to it!!

Now, I need to go paint a Hummer

ciao

Deborah

When Good Pets Go Bad

Oh, my sweet, sleeping dogs.....look at them just lying there all nice and warm and cozy by the fire; all snuggled up to each other. As if everything is right with the world. In their world, yes, everything is right as rain.

This picture was taken back when, well, when poor ol' Luke was still alive. Boy do I miss that smelly, neurotic dog. And I mean that in the best of ways. He was MY dog. If ever there was a dog that could believe he was human, it was Luke. My "Dukie Dog" as I used to call him. He was crazy, neurotic, nutzo, as in, he could not stand to be left without me; but he was my dog. He, literally, could not be left. without. me. AT. ALL

He taught himself how to open door handles. No joke. I don't know how he did it. Must have something to do with those opposable thumbs, I don't know. I remember a day when I left the house to visit a friend who lived just a few houses down the road; closed both doors behind me, one being the inside big metal type with the round knob; the other the big glass and plasticy-type with the push sort of knob.

About five minutes or so later, we're sitting there talking and she says to me, "Deb, I think I just saw your dog run by......"

"No way! I shut both doors, how could he..." and no sooner do the words come off my tongue, and there at her door, is my deranged dog, panting and smiling, the way dogs do; "FOUND YA! COME ON, COME HOME NOW, LET'S GO, THIS WAY, I'LL SHOW YA" tail wagging, jumping, bouncing in the direction leading me to the driveway, like I'm supposed to follow. (dog owners understand!!)

You may wonder why we didn't try crating this animal. Well, as a matter of fact, we did try. Several crates. First we tried the large plastic one that has the teenie tiny grated windows on the sides and the gate in front. (kind of claustrophobic if you ask me) It freaked him right out.

He bounced it across the floor, screaming and hollering; and you know, I just didn't think it was such a good idea to keep an animal in something, that, for all intense (interesting word) purposes, was supposed to be den-like. That just didn't work out for my neurotic beast.

We went with a larger, more open and airy cage. Being told he'd feel safer, and more calm in this one. And he would still be contained and safe. As would our household environment. Since, afterall, this is what we were trying to achieve.

Well, he wasn't quite in agreement with this new and improved model either. Not to mention, he managed to bend it like Beckham, break a large tooth AND rip some of his nails out, making for a very bloody mess in the process of his stand against the "safer more calm containment" we had chosen for him. And he also still squeeled like a girl in the process.

In the meantime, the neighbors thought we were doing some evil voodoo torture to him while we were out of the house; and each time we'd pull in the driveway, we'd get the most insane stares and comments from the teenage son, who was Straight-Edge and Vegan. These were two words I hadn't heard of at the time, mind you, this was 1994.

"PEOPLE LIKE YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE ANIMALS!"

Now let me just say, we didn't really hear the screaming, because, we only crated him when we left the house. SOOOOO, the only ones to actually hear the noises coming from the basement, which is where we kept his crate, were the crazy lunatics that wanted to slit our necks while we slept, but wait, they're ANTI-VIOLENCE or are they??? neigbors. Which made things interesting.

So we weren't popular with the teenager then. We walked into our bloody mess, banged up crate, Luke missing a tooth; honestly, at first I thought he was dead. There was so much blood from his toes, and he wasn't moving. Stupid thing wore himself out. Naturally, I started crying for my dog, animal-lover that I am, my husband (at the time) was less than happy at the idea of yet another crate having been demolished by this idiot of a dog. More $$ wasted by this IDIOT OF A DOG (now steam is starting to puff from his ears), ooooh, my dog is waking up! Joy from Momma! "Dukie dog, you're alive!"

Growling heard from, hmmm, behind me??? "LUKE!! WHAT! DID? ! YOU?! DOO?!!!"

Poor dog, now he has like 300 different things going on; he's been locked up, in the dark, alone, away from ME, terrified; he's lost a tooth, 3 nails, he's bleeding, had been, OBVIOUSLY, doing this all day while we were gone, (by the looks of the exhaustion and the crate), has to pee, ahem, HAD to, not anymore. Excited now that his beloved is home, and now, the Grouch is yelling at him and he's terrified, cause he's stupid, and doesn't know why!!! Poor neurotic dog.

A week went by and Easter came. The crate was picked up by some large truck that takes the stinky stuff from the trash cans that he LOVED to knock over and rummage through. I think he planned it out very well. As I was cleaning up dinner, HAM, and trying to get the kids ready for church, and everything else ready; I set the ham on a plate and covered it, set it aside to cool, and asked him to put it in the fridge before we left.

You so know where this is going; Oh, yeah. As we were just sitting there in church, it suddenly dawned on me, that I didn't put it the fridge, I asked him if he remembered to; and he just glared at me - knowing what was happening as we sat there. That was our lunch for the week.

Oh, yes; we walked in the door and there was the plate, right where I left it. Completely free of the ham that had been so lovingly set there and covered just hours before. At my feet, was my dog, wagging his tail, licking his lips, smiling, as if to say, in his dumbest of dumbs, "thankyouthankyouthankyou"

Pushing me out of the way, literally! was my husband, trying to get to the thankful dog; who ended up needing to go out every hour with diarrhea because of the ham he ate on us.

Which brings me back to this thing:

The beast! On his first Thanksgiving, incidentally, he's lucky wasn't his last, he was 7 months old. It was our first year in this house, and we had Thanksgiving here. Big house, big family, you know the deal. We utilized the family room at the time, which was in the lower level, for the TV and games and such. I enjoyed not having a TV on the main level. Some day, I keep telling myself, and Frank, it'll go back to that. No big, bulky TV in the livingroom. Nice and quiet, sitting and reading area off the dining room. I hear Frank in my brain saying, "flat screen TV over the fireplace!" No, Frank! Your big TV is beautiful, with a great picture, and as soon as Philip is ready to leave the nest, we will move that monster back into the family room! Where was I?

We were all downstairs after dinner, watching the kids play games, talking, stuff, fire going, laughing, the sounds of holidays you know, when suddenly from over-head there was a loud noise. Everything downstairs became quiet for a brief moment, then went back to the silliness. Frank and I looked at each other, and I knew instantly what it was.... it was that damn dog,

Of course it was, because before we went downstairs; we decided to set up all of the pies on the table (what a STUPID idea) complete with forks, knives, desert plates, all the fixens. As a matter of fact, all of the dessert was there. This way, when we were ready, when we had somewhat digested our food, we'd be ready to just, "dig in," as my mother put it.

And that is what I found Rocco doing - digging in - at the ripe young age of 7 months old, he managed to scale over the chairs, that we assumed may have blocked him, (NOT) up onto my dining room table, and into an entire pumpkin pie.

What else has this dog (for better words) chewed on me? You ask! Favorite pair of black strappy sandal, from Spiegle, that I wore for 2 years and was proud was! he got ahold one of them, dragged it to the back yard and shook it like a crazed, rabid cat! I, on the hand, acted like a crazed, deranged lunatic when I saw what he had. Screamed like Luke in his crate. To this day, I have never been able to find another pair like them. I hate that dog

another favorite slip-on, from Spiegle; this was a pair of tan espadrilles, also have them in black, which reminds me - he got the heel in black, but I managed to save!grrr; anyway - the tan, he chewed the leather off both shoes and ATE the heel off one of them. Left me with the entire bottom of other. Naturally, not the saving sole to the chewed pair of the black pair. damn dog.

Red Italian boots. Yes Italian. From little old lady NOT from Pasadena, but next door. They didn't fit her, she gave them to me. I owned them for a mere 20 minutes, if that, left the computer to use the girls room, when I came back, saw one, one, ONE FREAKING SHOE!!!!! I knew it was the dog, he heard me coming like a freight train. I honestly don't think my feet touched the stairs. Ever done that? (whoa, memories of my Dad! scary)

I get to the spot where the dog lay with my shoe. Unfreakingbelievable. I'm gone for.....what how long does it take a girl to pee? 2 minutes? Maybe? The heel has tooth marks now! Oh, but not just the heel, no no, of course not, NO!! The back of the heel too, yes that does, too.

"you IDIOT!" I yell, at him, as I suddenly and without too much (well......) thinking, take the boot and smack him in the skull WITH THE HEEL! SEVERAL TIMES. He didn't move, or make a sound, he just sat there with his eyes looking up at me, and just wincing at me, when I'd come at him with the boot, yelling at him. "DON'T! (pop) YOU! (pop) EVER !(pop) EAT!(pop) MY !(pop) SHOES !(pop) AGAIN! " Before you get all in my face, thinking I'm all bad, let me just remind you of something:

Please note the differences in the head sizes here! Rocco vs Frank. Frank is a pretty big guy, and Rocco, look at the size of that noggin, for the love of all things with waggedy tails! By the way, the concrete he's sittin' on, has more intelligence.

This dog, is still trying to make friends with Nala, the 6lb cat that skins bunnies. She does have opposable thumbs AND AND he has the scars to prove it! Stupid dog! He still, everyday, goes up to her, whining, backing away, tail up in the air, whine, whine, whine - SLASH - she gets him every stinking time! Yet, tomorrow, he'll still go back for more. Incidentally, I haven't lost a single shoe to his mouth since that boot.

When I was gone away to the funny farm, just KIDDING! Close, though - I was at a Migraine Hospital for a month, a whole month away from the dogs, hey the family handled it ok, they were able to come and visit. But the dogs! Luke hardly ate at all, and didn't eat AT all the first 2 weeks. The entire time, all he did was pace from one window to the next; door to door. Waiting for his Momma to return. It makes me sad to think of him all sad like that, because he was one pathetic dog.

Poor thing ended up getting himself stuck in the office one day; the door closed behind him, and he tried to chew his way out. There is a marble strip that outside of the door, due to the tile on the floor; yeah, well, he was jumping on the door, and trying to open it with his paws and jaws - you can see where he gnawed at it. but he also was digging at the rug and chewing from the inside, which is carpeted, obviously (rug), and he pulled part of the carpet off the tacking strips. Now if you step just right, you get a nice little tack in your foot. Poor dog.

And my family did NOT handle it ok! It sucked out loud, all over the place, for all of us! And it's possible we may be in for yet another try . Different place. different circumstances. Same Migraine disease, mind you. Just - working with my doctor to get more fine-tuning.

Hey, remember Nick's costume last year? Cinnamon Toast? I'm purposely not uploading the pic yet. Anyway, this year, of course, he's going to be a Marine. I know, shocker!! But, even better than that. Not just a Marine, we're going a step better than that. Remember Phil's job? I'll post more later.

Ciao

Deborah

I'm feeling better I'm feeling better nyanuya nya nya nya na

ps hope you can do that

Fall, Glorious Fall

For what it's worth, Fall is my most favorite of the four Seasons. The colors, the smells, the fruits and vegetables, the crisp, cool air. I hate the heat of summer. I long for the 75 degree days with a nice breeze. To me, those are the most comfortable of days. Fall brings the best sleeping weather.

I love to curl up in a sweater in an old, soft pair of jeans by the fire. Either it be on the deck out back or inside. Roasting marshmallows with the kids and making cocoa. (note to self, get hazlenut extract and give my recipe for the best homemade cocoa!) mmmmmm!

Those gourds up on top; I grew them! I did, just threw the seeds out by my fence, and up came gourds. Easiest thing on earth to grow. No need to do anything. at. all. The kids and I had fun watching them grow. They are adorable.

This mum is extremely large. Notice how small Rocco looks behind it. Mums are by far, my favorite plants; their colors are just so vibrant. Especially on one of days when you get a dark cloud and some blue sky combined. Beautiful. Love the contrast.

Oh look, there's one of our little white pumpkins. We ended up with four of those little babies. I'm going to carve one today, and put some mums in for a centerpiece. I usually do this with an orange one, but I just love these little white guys. I know where our pumpkin patch will be next year. I am currently looking to get one of those blue type to grow. Why just stick to the ordinary. I am so far from ordinary.

One of these days, this cutie is going to be part of a pond. One of these days. Thanks, Joe. I love this piece.

So, eat your heart out Martha. I can grow Mums, too. And gourds. As a matter of fact, that's what they used to call me. Martha. I'll probably get some of that tomorrow because I put some leaves under my candles and put gourdes in a basket. Anyone can do that.

Tomorrow we will celebrate Lexi's birthday. She will help me make Apple Cake, my recipe. It's yummy. I made one just this week, it was delicious. Just ask..........

him! No mistake really why that container in the background is there. It's for him. No mistake, either why he's not looking at the camera when I was taking the picture. I was saying, "APPLE CAKE!" Which I made on Thursday, for my family. He is NOT family - he is dog - we are the people, alpha. Cesar says so. Big, brainless idiot must relearn his place in the tree. Again.

Typically, in the afternoon if I'm not feeling good and I lay down, he's right there with me. Typically. I go to my room, he follows. I insert my earplugs, lay down, cover up, and off I (yawn) go. He very sneakily, and quietly goes out of the room, down the stairs, tip-toeing, so as not to be heard by my very sleepily and plugged ears; jumps up on the buffet and decides to DEVOUR THE ENTIRE REMAINING CONTENTS OF SAID FREAKING CAKE!! BANG! SMASH!! Goes a very old, and just polished silver coffee urn onto the dining room floor. Too bad it didn't hit his stupid big paw and smash IT and make him yelp and learn a whole new lesson! NO! Of course not. But I heard it. AND I knew exactly what it was. MY CAKE!! Out go the ear plugs.

By now, of course and as always, I'm dizzy, but I manage to run down the stairs. He doesn't give a crap. IDIOT! Good thing he had his prong on, and I used it. Down he went, licking his stupid big and foaming, apple smelling lips. Damn dog. I fall over him, forgetting I'm dizzy, and now seeing stars, then nothing. Go. back. to. bed. I hate that loyal idiot some times. This, I'm thinking will be used as bait; however, when Frank tells me how much he wants one of offspring. That I so don't want. DON'T want. As in do NOT want. In the big negative form.

I love that commercial where the guy is on the phone with his surgeon, telling him to make a vertical incision - you know where I'm going don't you. I think I just may call my aunt and ask her to gently (riiiight) guide me through it. Oh get off my back PETA. It was an awesome cake!

Ok, Emily, this one is for you!

Size 6. Payless. Oh, so comfortable!

Deborah

Happy Birthday, Lexi

Today is Lexi's 19th birthday. Happy Birthday, Lexi! This other pic is of Bri, who lives with her. We have taken on Bri as our own. She and Lexi took to each other right away, and the kids all took to Bri, and we all took to Bri - she's wonderful.

I cannot believe my Lexi is 19 today. Look at that face. Pure sweetness and joy. I can't believe I have a child that is 19 years old; it doesn't seem right. She doesn't look 19 or certainly seem 19. That must be why. Hey, I. don't. LOOK. like I have a child that age, ahem. do I? anyway,

I cannot wait to celebrate her birthday with her.

Special Child

by Sharon Harris

You weren't like other children,

And God was well aware,

You'd need a caring family,

With love enough to share.

And so He sent you to us,

And much to our surprise,

You haven't been a challenge,

But a blessing in disguise.

Your winning smiles and laughter,

The pleasures you impart,

Far outweigh your special needs,

And melt the coldest heart.

We're proud that we've been chosen,

To help you learn and grow,

The joy that you have brought us,

Is more than you can know.

A precious gift from Heaven,

A treasure from above,

A child who's taught us many things,

But most of all - "Real Love."

Wishing you all a painfree and safe weekend

Deborah

The Gifts of Women

Women are blessed with many different gifts. Some material. Some Spiritual. Some are blessed with the gifts of children. Some without. Those of us with children can understand, sometimes wish for, both. Those without, only long for the gifts of a childs loving arms to hold. Never knowing, or understanding the heartbreak that also comes with it. Sometimes more heartache and frustration than the joy we hoped for.

There are other gifts, too; compassion, concern, contentment. And thouth we long for these qualities when we see them through another, we, too have our own gifts; patience, persistence, peace.

Compassion is the woman who has enough concern for others, that she's content to listen. Patience is the woman who sits persistently and prays for peace in another's broken world.

Some women are gifted with the ability to teach, others to learn. Some with the gift to cook, others to eat. Some, with the gift to sing, others to play an instrument. And some with the gifts to do both, well. These are gifts I appreciate and admire.

Some women are so gifted, they are the student, the teacher, the parent, the cook, all in one beautiful woman; who, at the end of the day, can plan for, prepare and put on an elaborate banquet, witout blinking an eye. And before going to bed; prays for her family, her freiends, her church, her neighbors, and lastly, herself. This woman is the gift of Selflesness.

Some women have the gift to paint the beautiful pictures of her imagination. Oh, if we could all paint what our minds see. Some can draw the thoughts of each day. The fears of night. The joys of life. This woman is the gift of Serenity.

Some women have the gift of Missions. She answered the Lord's call to serve Him on foreign land. On home land. She serves the teacher, as she teaches, herself. She serves the learner; and is also learning to serve. She is the gift of Servant.

Women with the gift to write, take us on adventures we may never otherwise would have gone. Tell of others, not unlike ourselves, and their testimonies, their stories, trials, failures and joys. They inspire us with words and phrases, mental journeys. Sometimes a rollercoaster, or a thriller, or a tranquil walk. She is the gift of Tranquility.

Some women have the gift to simply be there. When you call her because your world is a mess, she answers the phone and listens. When you're sick and have no energy to get out of bed, she brings you, herself, ginger-ale and a smile. And when something wonderful happens in your world, she is there to praise God for it with you. She is the gift of Humility.

The gifts are given to us by our Lord. We must remember to use them and cherish them for His glory. And though we may not share the same gifts, we share each others.

And so, We must love and respect each others precious gifts. These are the gifts of women.

Written June-1997

In many ways, I was in a different place in my life 10 years ago. I am currently struggling spiritually; I do believe we are in a major spiritual warfare crisis! Just look around folks. But I'm working on it.

As far as my health goes, it's currently plummetting. again. I need to take control of that. AGAIN.

The dog is whining in his crate. it's pitiful and funny and irritating at the same time.

Ever feel like you want to kill something/someone and snuggle them at the exact same time? Hypothetically of course!

Lucky for you - my stupid camera light is blinking RED again. I was going to put great pix in from the weekend, to. I guess tomorrow.

Deborah

Should you drive with a migraine? Rather, do YOU drive when you haven't been able to get away from your current raging case of the beast? What happens when there is no alternative? When you have to bite the bullet?



It's a very scary task, indeed, in my life. In all reality, and in all all seriousness, I try my best to stay away from the road when I'm feeling like I have been. With the exception of lastnight, the last time I remember driving, wow, I can't! It's been a long time. Weeks, perhaps 3, maybe 4. I think it may have been Delta Sonic. OOOH.

Anyway; Frank went to get Rocco with Marisa and dropped Nick off at AWANA on his way. He figured he might have time to pick him up on his way home, but he didn't. So, Christina and I set out for him. A very interesting ride, indeed.

You know it's going to be fun when you can't decipher the red/green differential at the light. Hmm, stay or go? Ever been in that dilemma in a migraine? It totally blows. But I needed to get my son; "Focus, Deb. G G G green is go." That is what the voice in my head was saying.

Oh the fun of it all. We get behind a schoolbus, that drops bags as it turned into our lane. So, naturally, it stopped traffic,to retrieve the said bags; which doesn't bother me, but irritates the fast-paced life of the man 3 cars behind me. He feels the need to fly by me, on the left, in the wrong lane, to get to his little life that can't wait.

What is UP with people? Everyone is in such a hurry. And not a nice hurry, a MAD hurry. This was a school bus, that dropped school back packs; and kids got off to pick them up. And here is this mad man flying up the middle of the lane, 20MPH zone by the way, and he wasn't going no 20MPH; no wonder kids are shooting at each other. Well, that and the lack of God in their little lives. Another post.

I made it to church to pick up Nicholas, luckily. But, I now have to go to, yeah, I still have to go to somewhere else. The store.

This is the time [Migraine time] when I can't put a complete thought together without strain. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how long this post took. A migraineur will. Decision-making, forget it. I just look to whomever is with me, literally, and tell them to decide for me; because I am unable to make a decision at this very moment.

There are those of you out there who know exactly what I'm talking about. Frank calls it my "Kid in the candy store syndrome." I will go to the store with him, we'll separate, he will fill his cart, he'll come back to where I was standing, and I'm still just standing and staring. Nothing in my cart. Can't decide what I want, or really, what I was there for. It would be easier if the product would just speak for me, or to me. I am, afterall, there for the listening.

He used to get angry and/or frustrated; thankfully, now he just sort of goes with it. Takes my hand, smiles or laughs and tries to make light of it. Lastnight; however, I dragged Christina with me. I needed someone. Unfortunately, we had Nicholas with us. Not a good thing. He was powered up with the Holy Spirit. Not really. He was just powered up!! I was like a kid in a candy store, he was like a kid on candy - and Christina, well, she had to play the part of parent. At 12. Poor kid.

Me, "What are we here for?"

12yr old parent; "We need bread, blah blah blah da da da ta ta da ada dddd dee dee dee dee d dzzzzzzzzzz"

Well, that's pretty much what I heard once I got into the store with it's ultra violet lighting; it set off the rockets red glare sound effects in my stinking EARS!!

I KNOW, WHY DON'T THEY MAKE A MIGRAINE SAFE SHOPPING AREA!!!! huh, why not?? Is it so much to ask???

She also needed to get her "things" for her science project. (Oh, now I had to think)! ribosomes? protoplasms? fava beans, .......

Lest I forget to mention, the sweet little man, the very powered-up little guy that I have been missing during the day, yeah that one. I don't miss him in the grocery store. Matter of fact, I desire my own time in the grocery store most times. This is not one of them. Tonight power boy is not himself either, no no, he has decided to be "Canihav," and I am not sure I like this child so much.

As in: Speed talk powered up, mind you, "Mom, canihav?" holding up box of Cocoa Crispi's.
"No, Nick. I'm buying the Apple oatmeal you asked me to buy AND the waffles."
"MOM, canihav?" now he's flashing eyebrows and smiling at me with bag of goldfish.
"No. Please, Nick, let's go. I got these." Pointing to yummy bananas. mmmmm
"Mom, canihav?" shows me Airheads. and says, and this is cute. "I'll LET you buy my sisters one!" and flashes more smiles and eyebrows.
"MOM!! canihav a balloon? canihav gum? canihav candy?"
"Nick NOCKITOFF"

To the shampoo aisle. "Please just pick me a shampoo and let's get out of here!" that was me.

And after what seemed like an eternity, we made it to the car, Frank's car, which I don't normally drive. Now, it's raining. Of course it's raining. It's also dark. Two things which make it very hard to drive. for me anyway. We get it loaded up, get in. I start it and notice that the brake light is on. Weird. So where is the brake release? I turn the inside lights on, which, of course are not nearly bright enough to display leg area. Nice. I feel a lever, oh, this must be it, I pull and hear a click. Hmmm, light doesn't go off. Which means, the hood just opened. Great! I feel yet another lever. Yep, pull, and presto, light off. Yippee freakin' doo. The blonde (which she is now) is laughing at me. I would be, too. Get out of car, in the pouring rain, slam stupid hood. Off. we. go.

7pm, yeah - 7 P! M! I kept looking at the clock wondering if it was correct. They were out washing the dirty dog; and by dirty, I am so totally underestimating that word. When they picked him up, apparently, the whites of his paws did not exist. AND they forgot the camera. So no pictures of Sweetie. Cinderisa's fault. She got to wash him at the dogwash while Frank filled the van for me. But because it was raining, he didn't get it washed. That may happen today. I sure hope so, because they said he smelled like poo. I will not get in my van with any smell. ANY. SMELL.

I have been carrying a Febreeze bottle with me lately because of my head. The little tree dangling air freshners are too strong for me right now. But the Febreeze, I can handle that. If I start gagging at something, I just spray it. In fact, I've actually been sort of toting it from van to house now that I think of it. Sick.

Well, my attempts at infusion have been a failure, so I'm going to try the cryo procedure again. I'm scheduled for the 22nd, and I just don't know if I can even hold on that long. The new med was helping me sleep until about 4 this morning when this boulder hit me square in the face. It's been slamming me over and over and over overoverover and over since. I'm sure some of it may be due to the weather?? Although, we did have great weather last week and it was like this. I just don't know.

Hoping you have a painfree day
Deborah

The Valley

There's a place where I have journeyed,
When my life has been a mess;
Where rocks and thorns and serpents dwell,
Where I feel such emptiness.
And all around me; grief and woe,
And pity upon my soul,
I'm at my lowest place in life,
A deep and dark black hole.
The Valley, yes, that's where I am,
When feeling dark as night;
But if I simply raise my eyes,
Drink in the Heaven's sight;
I see the beauty all around,
That His hands made for me:
And I remember how He loved;
He died to set us free.
I'll never know the pain my Lord
Had suffered for my sin,
But my sadness simply vanishes,
When I think of the cross and Him.
Somehow, the Valley seems to have
A healing sense for me,
And I learn each time to look around
At the wonderous , great Valley.

I wrote that in June of '97; and I'm not sure if I've posted this poem or not. Regardless, I'm using it for self-help, so to speak. Again. Funny how the Lord can minister to us, and then tap us on the shoulder, and remind us with his boot in the behind, (humor) that He's still there for us. No matter what.

So maybe you're in a valley, on the bottom; look up and around you. There really are some pretty sights to behold. I can allow myself to get down in my constant agony of pain, which it is, but today, I enjoyed the colors of my gorgeous Mums. Delightful. I know, trivial, isn't it! Don't you wish you could be me!? Just wait until you see the pictures. I know you want to.

Time to fling a rubberband at the sleeping kitty.
Deborah

Some Home Improvements

This is the rather large and garish chandelliere that used to hang in my dining room. Though it did dispense the light quite nicely, I hated it. HATED. IT. With a passion. Detested this light; and would pretty much let everyone know each time I'd turn it on.

Now, this is the one we had put in! It matches my furniture, which is more Mission style, than the oh, what would you call that?? Anyway, light off.

Light on. Those doors in the background, they are being replaced with sliders. Right now they open up to the deck outside; which is nice, BUT, it doesn't work so well for insulation purposes. Another story.

The shy guy that installed the light for us, is this guy. Thanks Philipe! He also installed the kitchen light and fan duo, which we desperately needed. (By the way, he is single) And I've been trying for a long time to pawn him off to unsuspecting female friends. Very nice guy.

On another interesting note; Marisa made a new little friend.

This adorable dragonfly danced and fluttered on her leg for a good 10 minutes. He looked up at her, tilted his head in amazement at her beauty; because, well, she does resemble her Mom's good looks (flashing my eyelashes). No? Si. Si. Sorry, I just took a call from Zio Corrado from Italy! UGH, I miss him!

Back to the dragonfly - he adored Cinderisa, she adored him; I adored all of it, and then! Drum roll please!!!!!

SPOTTED! BY THE HUNTER KITTY. In reality, he should be wearing a helmet. {note to self - get this cat on video} Cinderisa was afraid she was going to be scratched by Bosco, not really going to happen, and he thought he had something interesting to catch.

This kitty has "stupid is as stupid does" issues. And that is why we love him so much. He's big, he's loud, in Meow only, though. For a big cat, and I do mean, big! At a whopping 20 pounds of fur ball, he talks and talks until you either feed him or let him in or out or in or out, he can never really decide which it is he wants. For real. But to hear this big boy purr, you need to get in really, really, really close because it is so small you almost can't hear the purring at all.

That goes for the hissing sound he makes, which I've only heard him make once. And that was when I had to put the toilet seat down - CAN YOU STAND IT?! YES, ME, AS IN A GIRL, HAVING TO PUT THE SEAT DOWN!!! Yeah, I know!! Maybe that's why he made that little psss sound. It was very cute. It scared him, and I didn't slam it or anything, which, you know, I should have, cause, I had to, you know, touch the seat and all. I just gently put. it. down. IS IT THAT HARD!!! BOYS???

Back to the cute friggin dragonfly that got away, the toilet seat, no, the cat stared it down and scared the living daylights out of it. Yep, that's what happened. NOW. all of a sudden, it's breakfast time. RIGHT NOW, not in a few minutes when I'm good and ready. NOW. nownowNOW. bicker bicker bicker.

Is it just my little part of the world, really, or is every living room in America crawling with children - siblings - that want to just rip each others throats out, with forks and knives? AND. AND!! Feed their guts to starving countries because they are feeling the need to be um GIVING!!?? Seriously, I am sooooo frigging tired of hearing these lines: and tell me if it's just me, cause I'm really going out on a crazy limb here.

"Mom, will you please tell him to stop it!"

"He's such a brat"

"I can't stand you!"

"They're being mean to me"

"You can't make me"

I can't go on with anymore, I'm starting to hyperventilate. Thankfully, they go back to school tomorrow. I think today, I will take them apple bombing picking. Drag them behind Go on a tractor pull.

What is wrong with me today??? Must be the med I'm on. That is what I'm chalking it up to anyway. Nasty nasty. Snappy, short answers. Iritated. I need a mini vaca. I need a day off from my head splitting is what I really need. Maybe that is what's getting at me. I feel like a big nasty pimple getting ready to 'splode.

Heh, remember John Belushi in Animal House, when he put he Mashed Potatoes in his mouth and asked, "What am I?" - Yea, that is how I am feeling inside! OOoooh, nerve-tingling, and head-pounding kind of stuff! I'm just tired of it; and I'm trying to hold it down with humor, and it's slowly slipping away.

But there are at least some things in my home getting done. We will be getting some new doors and windows updated. We just had our rooves (is that right?) insulated. They tell us it will save us over $100. 00 a month in heating this winter. CHA-CHING! I sure hope so.

You will see my new doors here. Unfortunately, the man with the jackhammer is coming back to do the small room in the basement. I'm eagerly awaiting his arrival, (with a paintball gun and, oh, nevermind) {hi Frankie} :} It seems as though one of the rooms in the lower level didn't get done when they were here in the spring. Banging away for 4 freaking days. But rest assured, Frank says it won't be so bad this time, because it's such a small room. okie doke then.

Coming up for air..........

My Sweet Little Table

A while back, we were walking down the Yellow Brick Road. No, no, no, that's not where I was going with this post.

Actually, I was going HERE ----> ------> -------> ------------>



This is how my cute little bargain garage sale table turned out. Isn't it cute! The glass knob is only temporary. I'm on the lookout for a red glass kanob. They do NOT exist in the current home department stores. So, when I'm feeling up to it, I will make it a point to get to the flea market one of these Sundays, it's been a very long time since I've been to a flea market. Very long time indeed.






This is what it used to look like. And this is what it looks like now. I'm pleased. Although, once I find the perfect kanob, I think it will be finished. I am feeling the need to scour the flea market tomorrow, regardless of how I feel today. You know, obsession thing.




I have a few more little projects waiting; the 6 foot long shelf. I think I may use that in my craft area for holding ribbon and books. Not sure yet.


Then there is the scroll-work shelf that used to belong to my Grandparents that Marisa has claimed. Not to mention, the three bedrooms that need to be changed around and re-decorated. Again. And the office is in major MAJOR need of an overhaul. Or a bulldozer. And some heavy-duty cinch sacks. some PODS and oh, I don't know, one of those trucks to just um, haul it all away. Start all over again.


You know, if the money tree out back grew anything at ALL like my parsley did - just sayin! I could actually do that!


I think I might just go to the flea market tomorrow. Yep, see if I can find a pretty red glass knob for my table. Because, to me, it just doesn't look all done yet. And, well, I'm obsessing. Can't have that.


Oh, my stud, Rocco, that is - is in Sterling with his new sweetheart. Studmuffin that he is! Frank should be home any minute now. I miss the big guy. He is going to stink something nasty when he comes home in a week! Rest assure, I will have pictures of Sweetie(that's her name) in a few days when we pick him up. Although, I may not go for that ride, as his stench will kill me! Looks like someone is getting a bath when he gets home.


Wishing you all a pain-free weekend.
Deborah

Loyalty and the Monster

This is what you call pure loyalty. I have labled the pictures as "Stupid Loyalty 1 & 2" however.

The lifeless body under the dog, is me. This was taken by Cinderisa on Monday. She found us this way when she came home from school. There was no panic in her or the beast. Notice the look of discontent as he is rudely awaken by the flash. (pic on the right)

Mind you, this cuddlebug weighs 100 pounds of solid muscle. His head, if you'll notice, is much larger than mine.

He is NOT allowed on the furniture. He does this when Frank is not around. And when I am not feeling well; or rather, when the monster is gripping my skull the way it has been.

Shortly after she took these pictures, Frank walked in, and apparently, Rocco knew his nap time on Momma was over.

What is it about me that makes him feel he must be on me when I feel the monster coming? He has done this since he was a puppy. He used to howl at me, and climb on me, nuzzling. I wasn't really in the mood to play, which is what I thought he was doing. But then I finally realized that he wasn't playing; he was consoling, if you will. And he still does, in his own weird, super-size way.

I must emit an odor or some strange electrical charge that he picks up; because he whines and he cries; and he'll just put his extra large head on me, looking up at me with those big green eyes. At the moment, I'm not wanting to be bothered, I'm just laying there, trying to find silence and sleep and the place where there is that moment of no pain; just an instance of it. Searching, seeking, not to be found.

I drift somewhere between sleep and awake as I search, and that must be when he makes his opportunity to approach me; whether it be on the couch, or in my bed. He is very sneakey for such a big, dopey dog. I suppose he feels he must be my protector, my comforter. Maybe he can see the monster that I feel enveloping my head. Maybe he hears what I hear, something like this:

The current beast I'm being infused for is sitting on my shoulders; he has his left hand wrapped around the front of my face, and right ear with his pointed finger nail, like a long roofing nail, inside my right ear. He keeps trying to make his way from the right ear through my head and outside of the left ear. The sound of a distant freight train can be heard each time he pushes this deeper and deeper in my ear.

Then there's the spike he is forcing in the top of my head as he tries to crank it open; unsuccessfully, I might add. With each dull and slow thud of each blow, comes the pain. Deeper and deeper until it reaches my neck.

I feel the metal band around the top of the temporal area now, getting tighter and tighter. He must feel the need to crank it up a notch now. Tighter and tighter and tighter it gets. I can sometimes hear his evil snear. Just what possesses him to torture us in this way? Get off my back! I can't see anything now; I'm not sure if it's the band, or the spike, but something has taken my sight. Wait, here it comes, no, just flashes of blue, brilliant blue sparkles.

Can you see it? Wait, no, never mind, it's gone. I know I saw it. It was right there in front of me like a spark or a flash of blue. Do you see them? Do you hear them? I wonder, does my dog? Is that why he feels the need to be such a loyal companion when the monster is so intent on making it's mark on my life.

My son asked me once, "Mom, do you see green squiggles when you sneeze?"

Could that be a pre-cursor to aura for him? I sure hope not. But, at the same time, I'm afraid I already know the answer to that fateful question. Just as I know I can't hide Cinderisa in a tower to keep her safe forever from her headaches migrating to something worse; I won't be able to keep their own monster's at bay, any better than my own.

Well, on a "Lucky Dog" note for Rocco!! We got a call from Glenn lastnight; the breeder we bought Rockhead from. It seems that his girlfriend is FINALLY in heat (and the boys all cheer). Tonight we take him for his ride up North to get his. Yeehaw. And then, I call my Aunt, who will be, ahem, CHOPPING THOSE BAD BOYS OFF!! Because I'm tired of them. They are disgusting! In every huge way, shape, (literally) and green-dripping form. (yeah EEWW!)

FRANK - I love you, But I DO NOT WANT ANOTHER BIG, STUPID, OVER-SIZED, LARGE-HEADED, DROOLING, GREEN-DRIPPING, ALL-MUSCLED, DUMB, PEEING, POOING, WATERING ALL OVER THE PLACE, SO THAT I CAN'T HAVE ANY VEGS IN THE GARDEN DOG!!! SERIOUSLY, I REALLY DON'T!! I WILL TAKE ANOTHER SNAKE, KITTY CAT, OR EVEN A SPITTING LLAMA OVER ANOTHER DOG. I LOVE YOU. (even if he is consoling)

have a painfree weekend, all.

Deborah

Past the Point of No Return

Well, I did live through Friday. Thankfully. Although, it was extremely loud. I knew that going into it; but it was well worth it. I'd go again. And again, and again.

Naturally, no cameras were allowed, and even if they were, my battery had up and died just before we left the house. I wanted to get pictures of everyone dressed up for the night. Hey, it usually only happens on Sundays for church; so for us ALL to be dressed up on a Friday night was something, well, very nice.

We headed out to dinner before the show, all dressed up, looking good and trying desperately to stay that way. Surprisingly, we did.

Red Lobster; sea food for all but Cinderisa who ordered chicken fingers. Go figure, the 15 year old orders chicken. Nicholas orders crab legs, as did Christina. Not Marisa, but the 6 year old did. I was truly second-guessing this, but he ate them.

My sweet little 6 year old; ah yessh. This little guy has been waiting for the Phantom. Everyday, for the past few weeks, he has been asking "When are we going to see the Phantom?" Every. day. It has been going on since we bought our tickets in May that we told him we were going to see the Opera.

You wouldn't think a child of his age would be so interested in a performance such as this, now would you? Well, he is. He received the movie for Christmas from us/Santa, and he has loved it since. He knows the songs and the story quite well. I knew he would enjoy the show.

I just didn't realize I would be "SHUSSSSSH"ed through it by him. Oh yeah, his little pointer finger on his lip and all.

"Nick, can you see, OK?" Because he was upset that a man sat in front of him.

"SSSHHHHHH!!!!!!"

"Are you enjoying the show?" Me with big intriguing smile, you know genuinly wanting to knwo.

"SSHHHHHHH!!!"

(Frank) "Buddy, wanna sit on my lap?"

"SSHHHHHH!!"

"Do you like it, Buddy?"

"SSHHHHH!"

"Buddy, watch the..."

"SSHHHHH, Frank, I'm trying to watch!!"

Ok, so he was just enjoying the show, already. He didn't miss a trick either. We didn't need to point out ANYTHING. He saw them on the catwalk. He knew the gendarme was in front of us; we were only 3 rows back from the stage. A little too close for comfort maybe. But great for the costume detail. And awesome for the kids.

Marisa, of course, during the intermission, had to check out the pitt. She was awed by it. Loved it, can't wait to go to college. YEAH!!!!!

Unfortunately for Christina, this night proved to be somewhat yucky for her. She left the house feeling under the weather. Her dinner, she didn't want to eat, and she wasn't in the mood for the show; both of which she had to endure the company of anyway. Dreadful for her, but in the longrun, she enjoyed.

As for the volume of the performance, I have a strange feeling that Nicholas will, unfortunately, follow my demise of migraine. The poor kid was forever covering his ears. Just a strange feeling, and some other things he's said to me. I know Marisa will, as she already has headaches with her periods. How can they not?

On Saturday, we ended up just lounging around, wasted, and watched "Flushed Away" which was cute. I felt flushed away. Took a nap, and now seriously don't remember the rest of the day.

Tomorrow, I start round 2 of infusion for another 3 days. please, oh please oh please work this time!!

Yesterday, my house was cleaned. Not by me, or my kids, or by Frank. Well, he paid for it. He had it cleanedFOR me; isn't he great! Let's face it, I'm spoiled - rotten. I haven't been able to keep my house the way I used to, SO, he has decided that it's time to just GET someone to do it for me.

At first, I'll admit, I was very reluctant, because, it's not an easy thing to give up anything. It's been hard for me to give up the ability to go back to work, which I was only able to maintain just a few short years ago. Well, that's not even a remote possibility.


I've been a stay-at-home Mom for a long time, so working was new to me, and I enjoyed it. Again. Then, I got nailed harder than ever before with the migraines. I mean, I always had them, and was able to just manage them, or so I thought. Not so much anymore.

Now, not only can I NOT work outside of my home, but I'm finding it hard to keep the work IN my home up. Now that in itself is a much harder struggle for me. That is the stuff I never had a problem managing. I could deal with the work thing; but not this. Because there is just too much at stake here in my home. This involves my family.

My love of cooking, and gardening are things that are taking a toll on me lately. Things that I used to enjoy, drain me of energy. They cause me such pain and such heartache, that sometimes I wonder if they are really worth the effort it takes to make them worth the effort at all. But then I see the wonder they produce; or I smell them baking or roasting, or my children know the name of their flower or herb when I ask them to retrieve it from the garden. It is then that I know, yes, it is so worth my energy, my pain, and oh yes, it worth the time it takes to struggle through to make the effort worth it all.

I am reminded that I have Parsley and Oregano, Rosemary and Thyme in my garden that needs harvesing. I have Mums that need planting. I have little gourds I am watching with Nicholas and the girls, as they get bigger each day. Our white pumpkins, 4 in all, are now in the lawn for decoration. I now know where we'll put our pumpkin patch for next year. Our white pumpkin patch. I may not be able to garden like I did 10 years ago, but my children have a passion for gardening; and they didn't just wake up with it. It was instilled in them, from my passion. So they will grow it with me. As they always have.

Wishing you all painfree days.
Deborah