FOOTBALL

Ok, so its not like I didn't see this coming.  In my gut I knew this was bound to surface with Brian.  I, the Amazon woman married a very wirey agile excellent rugby player.  His high school football stats still have not been challenged.  Soooooooo what happens when you combine an Amazon woman from an Amazon family with a lean muscular type... you get one large, very strong young boy.

Brian is 10 wearing size 14 clothes and fits in my running shoes.  I can see where this is going.  The men from my side of the family (are) were huge.  I excelled at ballet, volleyball, ice-skating and my favorite - weight lifting.  I was a honors student and sports were always an easy A - along with most subjects.  My x husband did terrible in school but was a star athlete.  He was smart enough to pick exactly the type of woman that would create a super son athlete - in his mind anyways.  I myself, keep pushing the scientist route.

So this Sunday I get to go see Brian fit for a Helmet.  How did we get here?  Brian has decided that he wants to play football and be an archeologist.  How these two come togther I have no idea. I did manage to stay out of it.  Even though, I rather he learned golf or baseball (hey its the irish in me), I do understand that as a mother, I have to let Brian make some of his own choices - even at the age of 10. 

My concern, since my x husband played football is that he is not projecting his own hopes onto his son.  But then, what one of us parents don't do this a bit ourselves?  Where do you think Brian's love of Science comes from?  Of course, whatever Brian chooses for his life is fine.  I admire him greatly and he is only 10, I am sure watching his life unfold will be every bit as amazing as it already has been.

I love jazz and listen to the local station here quite a bit.  I love how jazz fills a place when all the windows are wide open.  Jazz is meant to be the background music for life.  Sade has a song "By Your Side" and the lyrics always make me think of Brian...

"You think I'd leave your side baby?
You know me better than that
Think I'd leave you down
When you're down on your knees?..."

"...Ohh, when you're cold
I'll be there
Hold you tight to me
When you're on the outside
Baby, and you can't get in
I would show you
You're so much better than you know
When you're lost, you're alone
Can't get back again
I will find you
Darlin' and I'll bring you home..."

Hmmmm ... great melody.  But then, if you haven't guessed by now, I am just crazy about my son.  And he is going to be my football boy.  It just goes by too fast.  Yesterday he was reaching up, pointing his finger saying "UP!" and now he leans over, with a sly smile and says "Mom, you are wierd, but I love you anyways" and rolls around in a fit of giggles.

He put on my sandals and says, "See mom they fit, do you have big feet?"  Ok, I am skrewed either way I answer that, but years as a woman have taught me some things "What do you think?" I shoot back.  "You have small feet" HA!  This kid wants something...

Oh lord, I just thought of something - I am going to have sport sock smell.  Practice starts Monday night.  Today is the last day of my life until Christmas.

Until next time-

C.

PS.  My imaginary lover likes to wash sports socks...

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MOMS

Tonight I phoned my mother, as I often do.  It is my way of checking in and making sure all is ok with my world.  I love my mom, I admire her, and I feel lucky to call her "mom".

Somwhow I was smart enough to choose her as my mom before I came into this world.  She is wise and kind and full of this knowledge I cannot even begin to match.  I tell her everything.  I turn to her with all my aches and pains, she responds like an angel full of belief and promise.

She is my champion, my shield against the world.  She adores Brian, and on nights, like tonight when I call, full of tears and confusion, she is like the Lighthouse in the fog.

Until next time-

C

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FAIR TIME

Each year at this time, the Sonoma County Fair runs two weeks in the heart of Santa Rosa.  There is live horse racing, FFA exhibits, concerts, carnivals, great junk food, farm animals and plenty to spend your hard earned money on. It's a long standing tradition and my son is there today with his dad.  Last year I took Brian and a neighbor friend - they spent me blind.  I think it is great that his dad gets to do the fair day with him this year... I hope Brian asks for everything he bugged me for last year (laugh).

Also, at this time each year, Bohemian Grove runs two weeks in the mountains above Monte Rio, a little river town west of Santa Rosa.   The Bohemian Grove is a retreat for the Bohemian Club, a private men's club from San Francisco.   Every year, at this time the club holds its annual gathering at the Bohemian Grove.  It's a big camping trip for men.

The club boasts up to 2000 male members.  They say they have no racial, political or religious restrictions to join as a member, however any new members must be sponsored and then approved by the club.  They don't seem to mention that you must be very rich or famous or both.  If you happen to be from one of the wealthy member families, it is said that you are "grandfathered in" upon a family member's death.  If you don't know about this famous club, I doubt it is what you are thinking, considering it is an all men's club from San Francisco...

The Bohemian Grove is a gathering spot for some of the nation's most powerful politicians and wealthiest men.  No women.  So Oprah will never be invited.  Many fly into Sonoma County in their private jets to the Sonoma County airport.  On the day thay arrive,  it is fun to go sit at the airport and watch some amazing private jets land.  I saw Ted Turner fly in once.  He was married to Jane at the time or I might have tried to meet him (wink).

Another time, Clint Eastwood was having a drink inthe airport bar waiting for his driver to take him to the encampment.  George Bush flew in once but I missed his arrival by 5 minutes. It is interesting to see these people in casual clothes on their way to an adult day camp.

This story tells about it if you are interested in more details:

http://www.metroactive.com/papers/sonoma/07.12.01/grove1-0128.html

I find it humorous that these two vastly different events go on every year at the same time in Sonoma County.  It marks the middle of our summer, the half way point towards Fall and back to school. 

While young children play at the fair, older children play at the camp.

Until next time-

C

PS.  I am just not sure if my imaginary lover would be a Bohemian Grove kinda guy.  I haven't made up my mind about what I think about this men's club...although my imaginary lover must like going to the fair.

GARDENS

Off to the champagne opening of the flower show at the fairgrounds.  My family will be there...I've decided to walk, it is a lovely evening.

*******************************

The flower show gardens are beautiful....the flowers themselves are just incredible this year.. Tons of Hibiscus on display.  I can't ever seem to get that plant to live when I try to put it in my gardens. My brother and his girlfriend Terry were there.  It looks like they will be getting married in the next year.  I am thrilled for them.  I want my brother's house!  (laugh) Hopefully they will move into hers...

Look at me...figuring out the way to make their upcoming marriage benefit me.  Well, I am the younger pain in the butt sister... and now my newer sister in law will be my next sister.  I am excited about that.  Her youngest boy is the same age as Brian and Brian and Angelo decided when they first met that they were going to be cousins.  I guess they knew before anyone else.  Kids... 

My brother...fresh from his divorce and getting ready to marry another.  OIY.  He is brave, but then, Terry is a wonderful woman.  Maybe its Terry that is the brave one?  There are not many men that are as stand up of a guy as my brother.  He has always done 'the right thing', just like my dad.  He deserves this happiness.  Our dad would be proud of him.  He understands the importance of a healthy committed relationship.  The world needs more of them.

But damn him, I swear, how is it he finds someone right away?

He is smart enough to realize that it takes two people to create the life and security many hope to attain.  He understands that clear goals, coupled with a person who is really there for you makes for a great team.  A great team can accomplish great things. He also realizes coming home to a good woman makes life complete.  And Terry understands that it can be fun waiting for the man you love to walk through the door and your evening together as a family begins.  It is a nice thing.  They are a good match.

My brother is not about to sit around and mope about what happened in his marriage and do the blame game, or the pity me thing that so many do after a break-up.  His marriage of 20+ years disappeared right before his eyes and his wife left to be with someone else.  Now, many would use that as an excuse to get stuck and close down.  But not my brother.  he picked himself up, dusted himself off, looked around and found what he had been searching his adult life for.  Terry is the girl he should have married.  But it took my x sister in law to introduce them, so sometimes our dreams come out of pain.

Because of what his x wife did, he ended up meeting a nice woman.  She is widowed and knew my brother through her oldest boy and my nephew.  She grew up with my x sister in law.  After my sister in law left my brother, he was at a motercycle race with his son and Terry was there.  They began talking and he realized what a nice person she is.  Right then and there he asked her out and figured why look further and settled in with her.  He said "Why should I let my x wifes decisions that created a lot of unhappiness interfere one moment longer with my decision to be happy?"  He's got a great point, and I think is new life is going to be better than his old.

He just landed an executive position with the Operating ENgineers so he no longer has to be outside running a crew.  Good things are happening for him, he's certainly paid his dues. 

Now can it be my turn..?...(laugh) ...

Until next time-

C

PS.  Ok, I am not sure I'd want my imaginary lover to be good at growing Hibiscus...but maybe he is good at creating compost...?..

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THE MOON

It is written that the sign of cancer is ruled by the moon.  I was born July 4th, 1960 at 5:30 pm - the same time my son was born.  My mother jokes that I ruined my brother's third 4th of July and it took him 18 years to forgive me.  I believe he forgave me only because I had attractive girlfriends that he wanted to hang with...

Scientists write that the moon is beautiful, sometimes bizarre, always changing....refering to it as the "Inconstant Moon".  (OK, I'll possibly admit to that personality quirk).  Ever since I was a child, I looked at the world as if I was as far away from it as the moon.  When I was in grade school, just before falling asleep, I imagined I flew through the heavens on Pegasus - far from the earth - never wanting to return.  Each night I'd wave at the moon as I passed it, the moon would bellow "Be safe Cath" and off into the universe I flew.

No wonder my favorite book ended up being Peter Pan.  It is no shcok that I related well to Wendy and her experience of wanting to fly into the skies, to another place.  Funny, as an adult I am still wanting the same.  Except now it is to leave California.  neverland is anywhere outside the borders of this state.

Pegasus is the winged ocean horse, refered to as the "white horse" of greek mythology.  Pegasus depects intellect, innocence, life and light.  This white flying horse is rideen only by heroes. Pegasus stands for fierce principles, and represents the passage from one earthly plane to the next.  Ironic that I would chose this horse to fly through the heavens.  It is written that Pegasus carries the thunderbolts of Zeus. Maybe this is why I love thunder and lightning so much.  My heart races and I am excited at the first sounds of thunder.

In those years as a child, I flew on Pegasus through the stars in search of something or someone.  I never knew what or whom.  Possibly, it was the other half of myself.  I felt I lost my twin or some piece of myself before I came to be, and searched the heavens to find "it".  I am not a twin, but my family did lose my younger sister when I was two.  She died at birth - or just before.  She was born dead.  She is buried up the hill from me with my father and my grand-parents.  Dear Margaret Anne.  I would have called her Maggie.  However, I don't believe Maggie is what I was searching for those many years, in my imagination, on my sweet Pegasus.

These days, as nightfall pulls the purple drapes of sunset closed, I cast my eyes to the night sky searching for the first glimpse of the moon.  It is my friend, rising to greet me.  Each night, revealing how much of itself it will allow the world to view. Looking down on us like a benevolent guard.  Reminding us it is night time, gently lighting the skies and casting shadows across the lanscape. Rather like a night lite plugged into the night sky.

The tides of the oceans are ruled by the moon...high tides...low tides. I believe the oceans are the first to greet the moon.  It casts its illuminating beam over the ocean and changes the flow of water.  The oceans respond in kind, eager to dance to the light of the moon by raising or lowing its dance with land's end.  I am a child of this moon.  Pegasus is long gone, but this moon - it remains.

When I am confused and in doubt, I often go outside at night in search of the moon.  I cast my eyes across the sky, find her, and unload my latest concerns.  She stares down on me, quite often shaking her large round face, or sometimes laying sideways like a cradle glances at me with only one eye.  She becomes sad that I have still not found what I am searching for.  The heavens gave me Brian, and it has helped more than I can say.  But, Brian comes from me, and he does not belong to me.  He belongs to life itself and will eventually travel off in search of his own path.  I will still be left with mine.

This month the moon revealed it's redish glow, large and colorful, my personal favorite.  As if to say that something special is about to happen.  I would say that so far it is.  The abandoning of the old, embracing the new.  Freeing myself of out dated situations and child-like people I have allowed to get too close to my world.  To look forward again with new goals and plans, which hopefully will end in a move.

It's funny when you chnage your life, how some people fear the change and become angry.  They seem to take it personally, as if what you are doing for yourself has anything to do with them.  I am not bothered by their response, it tells me I am going in the right direction.  And the more I pull away to move on, the more they are interested in trying to keep the old contact, even if negative.  Oddly, it makes me smile, and I just continue my focus, just like the moon.

Great things happen in the middle of diversity.  It was time for a change, a new moon in my own life.  The friends and family that truely love and support me embrace this change and cheer me on.  These are the true friends - the ones that stick with you and do not fear what they see happening.  In fact they roll their eyes, smile and say "it's about time".  My family wishes only the best for me, but then, they have to (laugh).

When turning oneself toward a new horizon, it is important to spend as much time with people who support and nourish us, and little or no time with people who don't.  It is important to avoid everyone and anyone who is abusive, negative, hostile, destructive and trive on drama.  Surround yourself only with those that support your dreams, your life and are also forging bravely their own path.  Be with those that dream big, and are taking the necessary steps to fullfill those dreams.  It isn't easy, but well worth it in the long run.

Martha Beck states in her book, Finding Your Own North Star, "Detaching, finding your own path, and becoming a whole strong person will put you in a much better position...than staying locked in a dance of futile control efforts."  She also advises, "Once you free up the time you are now spending with an unsupportive 'everybodies' you will have space in your schedule for people who support your true self. Make a regular practice of this and you will eventually end up finding the best of all 'everybodies': your own tribe."

A great book for anyone looking to change the path of their life.  Ironic that it is named after the North Star.  Oprah Winfrey and Martha Beck both state: NUMBER 1 RULE: "If it brings you joy - do it" NUMBER 2 RULE: "NO REALLY if it brings you joy - do it!"  They feel if the only thing we ever do is fill our lives with the people, things, activities that bring genuine joy, we'd find that our dreams do easily come true almost immediately.

So in all that flying past the moon when I was a girl, I often thought of what gave me joy.  Singing, dancing, writing, using my imagination, painting and decorating, playing in the garden, hiking, swimming, public performing either speaking or dancing, traveling and seeing new places, meeting new people, playing with animals, playing dress up, putting make up on my friends, riding my bike, running along the beach, ice skating, and going to the movies.  Interesting, I think I need to do one of these things for a living...just as long as I don't pick the ice skaking one.  I'd probably break my neck! 

And the moon...the moon will always be there. looking down just as it has always been.  Now bellowing "Be safe Cath" as I embark on the next part of my new life.

And you know what they say, "When the moon hits your eye like a big-a pizza pie -That's amore...When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine -That's amore...

Fino al prossimo tempo-

C

PS.  Ok. ..my l'amore immaginario potrebbe essere un bell'uomo scuro italiano. ..that lavorerebbe..

   

 

GIRL'S NIGHT

You see, I was going to skip girls night tonight...stay home...reflect.  Then Stephanie (you know, the girl that looks like a classy version of Pamela Sue Anderson) calls, "I miss you - come see me...I passed my real estate exam and only you can understand.  Besides, we all miss you!  Put on a pretty blouse and meet us!"

I am stuck.  This woman is awesome.  I can't say no.  She tells me she will call me as work ends.  My x husband then calls, "What are you doin?" he asks.  I tell him about Stephanie, he says, "Get ready, I'll come pick you up, drive you there and drop you off and you can call me later if you want".  I just love it when my x husband is in love with his latest girlfriend.  "You need this" he says.  Yeh, and he gets to drool over some amazing looking women...

So here I am, in wet hair...getting ready.  I thank God my x husband has decided to be a stand up guy.  It makes everything so much easier.

*******************************************

I went to dinner with a bunch of great people over looking the Sonoma Valley.  And...I finally got to meet Stephanie's hunky rich boyfriend and his mom.  Suddenly I realize why she wanted me there.  I like him and adore his mother.  She has terminal cancer.  I hate that disease.  I know all too well what they are going through - and what they will be going through. Damn.  It breaks my heart.

His mother is now added to my prayer list.  She is very sweet - true to the saying, "only the good die young"... Stephanie and her beau are great together and his mom adores her (well who doesn't?).  At least she gets to see her son happy.  I know as a mom, that is all I want for my son - to see him content.  That in itself is a slice of heaven here on earth.

And if I am lucky enough to have a daughter in law like Stephanie I will be doubly blessed...

Until next time-

C

PS.  My imaginary lover has great friends and enjoys my friends.  We have dinner parties and invite friends over and we hang out and cook, drink wine and laugh together.

THE WAITING GAME

Well...Scott the President wants me as part of his group.  (Dancing aorund my place).  Tomorrow he presents it (me) to the board.  Keep on crossing your fingers and toes, although this next step is a mere formality.  Once that is done, we pick my start date.

I love technical companies and how they do interviews.  Scott met me in Starbucks in his jeans and a Mozilla Firefox polo shirt (of course it was); no socks and some comfy slip on shoes.  We sat in the back corner and basically, chatted. 

I remember when I interviewed for ATG.  The senior IT manager flew down from Oregon to take me to dinner.  He wanted to go to a brew pub and sample the local brews over dinner.  That was my job interview.  He handed me a contract and we signed it over IPA's and pizza.  I loved it.  Banking is soooooooo not like this.

I miss the forward thinking, their ability to think outside the norm and redefine how a company looks.  There is no pettiness within Scott's workgroup and very few women.  I hate to tell you ladies, but a great many of you thrive on drama in the workplace instead of just getting the job done.  You are more worried about what "Jane" is doing and what she is wearing and who she is seeing and why she gets to do whatever, then to sit down shut up and just do your job.

There, I said it.  Are you men applauding now?

Until next time...

C

My imaginary lover isn't a gossip - it is so unappealing in a man.

 

I LOVE FRIDAY EVENINGS

I love Friday evenings, and not so much because its the weekend, but the rituals that unfold marking the beginning to the weekend.  When I was a college kid, it was to get ready to go to the latest party or dance club.  When I was married it was the where are we going to dinner (or who's cooking) and what movie are we renting or going to see.  Or it was always the day I (or we) would leave to go out of town.

Now, on the Fridays that I have Brian, it's the what do we want for dinner and how many kids am I feeding.  Along with can you turn the slip and slide on and will you play water gun war with us.  So here I sit typing with soaking wet shorts, because all the boys ganged up on the cook...I think they like living dangerously...

When Brian is here with Boonie, his Rat Terrier dog (who looks like Buster the RCA dog) there is this kid sense of fun that fills our home.  Doors and windows are wide open and it seems I never stop waiting on someone.  I just love it though.  If there was anything I was meant to be great at, then it was to be the neighborhood mom that raises my children and a few other of the neighborhood's children in the process.  Just don't make me interact with some of their parents...oi.

Music fills the air and a sense of silly fun takes us over as the Friday week ends and the Friday weekend begins.  This is part of the reason dating bores me.  None of the men I have dated ever measure up to the fun I have chasing a bunch of kids around with a water hose, fixing dinner, listening to them laugh and scolding them when they are pushing the limits.  Then there is the sleeping bag and popcorn arrangements; the showers and the towels; what friend REALLY needs a shower and their clothes washed.  Yes, sadly enough through neglect or parent selfishness, often kids basic needs are ignored.

I know of a woman who goes out and leaves her infant alone in an apartment while she goes out dancing.  She leaves a baby monitor with the boyfriend of the girl she goes out dancing with who lives a few doors down from her.  A fire takes only three minutes to ingulf a house, if that guy gets interested in a sports game - or falls asleep and doesn't hear anything, or the monitor mal-functions that far away..that precious baby is toast.  Yet she is the first to critisize other people on their behaviors.

I watch so much of this and think I must be old.  Brian also has a friend who's parents neglect his basic hygene.  He smells, and is often very hungry.  I have given this kid so many of Brian's clothes, had him take a shower AND USE SOAP, and fed him until he grabs his tummy and proclaims he is stuffed.  He is a smart kid and I often wonder what will happen to him.  If I was a multi- millionere...

All I know is I love Brian and his basic needs come first before my own.  There are a bunch of people out there who will try and tell  you to put yourself first and take care of yourself before the kids.  I am just not sure I completely agree with that selfish baby boomer pop psychology.  Usually, I get this jargon from people who have never had kids, or have written checks but were never involved in the raising of their kid(s).  Don't you just love how people with the least experience with kids try and tell you how to raise them?  Don't you want to slap them and tell them to shut up?

When I was first seperated and my x husband was giving me a hard time, I signed up for this boot camp work out class.  It was every night for an hour with strapable weights doing militery-type exercises.  It was a killer.  But I was of the belief that if I felt physically strong, then I would stay mentally strong, thus winning over the negative situation with him.  Ummmm... I did the class for three years...and he hassled me for another 4 years...so much for my pop-psychology.  Anyways, in my 3rd session of every night classes, I felt the overwhelming need to cry.  We were in the middle of these killer arm exercises, but it wasn't that. (Although if you had done her horrably painful arm exrcises you might disagree).

With tears welling in my eyes and trying to fight back the drops from cascading down my cheeks, the female "coach" Susan walks up to me and helps me finish the exercises.  She said not a word, it was like she knew (or had been in my shoes before) and an instant bond was formed.  This woman is still a friend, unfortunately I cannot commit to her class schedule anymore.  Once Brian entered first grade, homework and early bedtime became the norm. I couldn't bring myself to drag him to her class every night from 6 to 7pm.  Brian needed a normal so-called family life.

Anyways, after the arm exercises we would move to the floor for 1600 stomache crunches.  It was during those crunches I figured out what was wrong.  It was Friday night 6:10pm, the time I would usually arrive home from work.  We had all the windows open in the gym and the smell of bar-b-que filled the work out room.  When I was married our Friday nights in the summer involved my x husband (who is an unbelievable great cook). He would have the bbq going, Brian fed and in his play jumper and would hand me a glass of wine as I walked through the door.  "Put on shorts and come outside" he would say.  I would put on shorts and walk out with my glass of wine to the smell of some incredible fish, or steak, or vegetable thing he was creating on the grill.  Brian would be happy and excited to see me.  I would sit down. pull Brian to my lap and my xwould take care of everything.  

It was wonderful, and once Brian was in bed, we would watch some new foreign film and talk about the life we were going to create.  I loved Friday nights.  Now, sweating in this gym over crunches, I realize the smell of bar-b-que takes me to a place of missing my old married life.  This was hard to process, since my x husband is the king of assholes when he wants to be. (Which was pretty much 100 percent of the time at the end of our marriage and afterwards). It was wierd to experience a sense of loss over a part of my old life, while I still hated my x and blamed him for everything.

It's laughable, because I thought (way back then) that I would never be able to create a wonderful Friday night again.  Often (after my divorce) when I was in corporate America, at about 4pm on Fridays the phones would start to ring for a different reason.  It would be husbands and wives calling to say "Pick up Chinese, or I am going to the movie store -what do you want, or meet me at " " retaurant for dinner, or I am picking up the kids and pizza -see you at home."  I would die little deaths with each call.  I would hear the conversations and miss the days when I had them.  I felt there were no real "normal" Friday nights anymore for me (or Brian).  I wondered if they knew how lucky they were.

Amusing, because today I wouldn't trade Friday night shoes with anyone.  My Friday nights belong to me.  I am a great bar-b-quer (and cook) and I love my own personal version of Friday nights with Brian.  We have dressed up and gone to dinner, to movies, or roller skating, played catch, had picnics, gone to the ocean to play on the sand while the sun sets, pitched a tent on the lawn and pretended we are camping, gone camping, traveled, seen plays and musicals - you name it.  The sky is the limit.  Lately, it is me and a bunch of little boys creating fun and laughter....yes and bar-b-que. 

Tonight it was bbqd hamburgers, corn of the cob, watermelon and shoe string potatoes for them.  Of course I had my usual salad.  And the movies...Star Wars Trillogy.  OI.  My generation invented it and now a few cute 10 year old boys are going to try to explain it to me. In the middle of all this, KB instant messages me from her Friday night, over the hill from us:

katspajamas: Hey there! I'm on a list group for step/blended families.  One of the posters has this as her tag line: "Some people are like slinkies...
Not really good for anything, but they still bring a smile to your face
when you push them down a flight of stairs."
katspajamas: LOL
katspajamas: Sorry I didn't pick up when you called.  Shoshana called and was on a roll.  Didn't want to interrupt her.
katspajamas: We have the kids at 9am Sunday morning.
ME: NP ... I am child infested tonight ...kinda like fleas
katspajamas: Oh!  Sage and a good salt scrub with a glass of wine and a bubble bath works great for that...lol
katspajamas: Do you have Brian next week?
ME: lol so how is Sho?
katspajamas: she's....   Sho.
ME: I can have Brian all week ...he starts summer school
katspajamas: Well, I'm just looking at the calendar...
katspajamas: We definitely have the kids the last weekend of July  29/30.  I'd like to invite Brian over for a sleepover with Andrew.
katspajamas: Doesn't solve our need to get together right now...  but it puts a date on the calendar for the boys.
ME: O have Brian that weekend 
ME: I ... hmmm I must have orgasm on the brain with that typo
katspajamas: <===============was thinking you might need a tissue... so Wanna come over that weekend???
katspajamas: speaking of orgasms....  my cat is going crazy with the f'n berber carpet!!
ME: lol... yes plan that weekend - plus I need to call the Napa whatever and schedule my community thingy
katspajamas: I think that's a hotline number....   1-800-whatthefuc*ever
katspajamas: maybe I have orgasms on the brain too with all this f'n
ME: lol...I am sorry for your situation ...I wish I could change all our lives
katspajamas: Well, do share the magic wand when you find it!
ME: oj I [;am pm ot trust me
katspajamas: I really need some time just you and me.  I'm going through some wierd shi* about my parents.
ME: ok let me try that again in english
katspajamas: please.
katspajamas: and I do trust you
ME: I am typing in the dark
katspajamas: hmmmm....
katspajamas: must be movie time.
ME: that was suppose to come out "trust me I am on it"....lol
katspajamas: on the magic wand?????  with the children in the house??????  lol
ME: yes, maybe to both?...ARGH you are being funny - that one got left in a hotel in Denver....anyways, the boys have the pull out bed out and its Star Wars movies trillogy for the 1000000000000000 time ,,,,ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

katspajamas: egggggggzzzzaaaaaaaaakkkkklllllllyyyyyyy
ME: I see you can relate to my pain
katspajamas: I wastalking with Sho tonight about travel.   Of the International persuasion.
katspajamas: It's time to dust off the passport.  Or in my case, renew it!
ME: oh if wishes were horses...
katspajamas: Did you get my link to the Yucatan??
ME: I have to get mine and Brian's passport - it's on my list of New Years resolutions.  Step 1 to making my dreams come true.
ME: yes I put it on my blog
ME: I want to get married there...lol...hell...I want to live there
katspajamas: Horses???  again with the phalic symbolism
ME: hey this is your head not mine...lol...I have children under the age of 13 here...they take that right out of you...no energy leftfor thinking about it...I am sure I will pass out to sleep as soon as me head hits the pillow tonight
ME: and, I have boys throwing popcornin this room
katspajamas: Wow.  I think I can actually feel my libido.  Unfortunately for my husband I'm 12 kinds of pissed off right now for things that happened 2 years ago. 
katspajamas: And they say I'm NOT a redhead...  but I'm Irish!!!
ME: isn't that how it goes...just when you want to plan their death your hormones kick in
katspajamas: rofl!
ME: and they think sex makes it all ok...so having sex for sex sake won't work...cause then they will think everything is all solved and hunky dorey
katspajamas: You MUST find a copy of this months More mag.  Thats where read the article on the Yucatan Hacienda.  But they have a great article on Jessica Lange.
katspajamas: Oh for fuc*'s sake!
ME: oh I like her...she has the sexiest man alive in her bed
katspajamas: If I were ever on Inside the Actor's Studio, that would be my favorite phrase.
ME: lol
katspajamas: Yes, ma'am she does.  And she DIDN'T marry him even after children.  But as the journalist who wrote the article said, she's been with uber-men.  She's one of my idols.
katspajamas: And had children by them!!!  And NO plastic surgery!!!
ME: I like the phrase on you...but without having to watch you on stage in front of a bunch of college students hanging on your every word.... and be all pissy female friend jealous...as Johnny Depp stands up from the audience and says he wants you as the lead in his next romance movie - that's where I'd hang myself...
katspajamas: lol... from your lips to God's ears...
ME: but I do love you and want the best for you dear
katspajamas: I could ramble on and on tonight....  something about putting my father on a plane to China....
ME: ah it seems this week has the father theme to it
katspajamas: Alas, you have your man-child and his kind in your space tonight.   Go to them and bring more popcorn!
ME: its the beginning of our next year - for you and I - just had our birthdays...
katspajamas: After all these years joking about putting my dad on a one way trip to China....
ME: ...I miss you and we have to get together SOOOON
ME: lol...your dad...oi
katspajamas: yes.  very soon.
ME: thank god your dad is too young for my mom
katspajamas: eeeeewwwwwwwww!!!!!!
ME: and too old for me
ME: roflmao
katspajamas: good.  could you laugh mine off too while you are at it???
ME: my brother sure likes your dad tho
katspajamas: I'll let you go to your pre-teen party.  Call me on the weekennd?  Pleeeeeeze...... 
ME: I will - I promise...hugs
katspajamas: hugs and kisses back.  Give your man-child a squeeze for me.   love you.
ME: love you too... take a sleeping pill...lol
katspajamas: it's called a vodka tonic.
katspajamas: night.
ME: night

Now I am off to corral boys into one area to mellow out, so I can go to bed.  They are already asking what's for breakfast.  Lordy...do I have to plan that far ahead?  At this point I am thinking bar-b-qued boys....they think that is real funny.  Funnier that they think I am kidding...

Ok, well I am...sorta.

Until next time.

C

PS.  My imaginery lover takes over so I can go to bed...

 

 

CROSSING FINGERS AND 9 TOES

Ok,  I meet with Scott (Mr President) on Monday for coffee.  Here we go Vista :-)  Everyone cross your fingers and toes for me - I'll cross all but my broken 4th toe!

Oh good lord - what will I wear?  I get so tired of this female dilema.

Of course this is a man who used to see me in my tech chick clothes.  I used to push that one a bit. (*laugh*) Well Eric loved it.

Wish me luck!

Until next time.

C

DREAMS

Ok, KB has outdone herself and found this incredible spot:

http://www.haciendapetac.com/

Now IF ( this is really really big IF) I ever get married again...this is the spot.  A few close friends and intimate family...

Oi.

Leave it to KB.

http://journals.aol.com/rapieress/Aweekinthelife/

SMALL TREASURES

Websters dictionary says that a gift often implies a special favor by God or nature.  I was thinking of something my Aunt Colleen said when I was at her house.  She said, "The last time I talked to your mom, your brother was at her house.  She put him on the phone and when he said hello and started talking, it freaked me out, because I thought it was your dad".  It took a minute for this to sink in.  I don't remember what my dad sounds like, and this has bugged me for a very long time.  You mean, all I have to do is pick up the phone and talk to my brother and I can hear my father's voice?  I was stunned.  She smiles, "Yes dear - he has your dad's voice - at least on the phone".

So tonight, I finally picked up the phone and called my brother and told him to talk to me.  He was still driving home from work at 9pm.  He laughed and we spoke briefy. His cell phone was cutting in and out.  But!  I realized that a part of my dad is still here with us.  All I have to do is pick up the phone.  I am sure my brother thinks I am a nut.  Now I will be wanting him to talk all the time on the phone (guys just love that) ...of course...he won't be spoiling me like my dad did...maybe I can work on that...

A gift.

Until next time-

C

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BROKEN TOE

Yesterday I stubbed my 2nd to the last toe arranging my back yard...and it's broken!

VACATION TRAVEL CONTINUED...

Would you believe I have written 25,000 words so far in this story?  I guess the writing bug has really hit me. The story of my vacation continues:

As I stare out the window at the breathtaking beauty that surrounds me, my mind wanders.  I conclude that it is arrogant for Sonoma County CA to believe it cornered the market on eye-catching scenery.  Washington takes my breath away.  Staring at the mountains I lose myself to daydreaming.  In my perfect Hollywood movie, [insert man] would show up at my front door, sweep me and Brian away from California, and release this princess from the prison I call Santa Rosa, California.

The three of us would live in one of those homes along the water of Puget Sound, with a boat and a dog.  The kind where the lawn grows right up to the beach front, and only a line of trees seperate the properties.  Brian and I would fish everyday if we wished.  There'd be laughter and plenty of dancing.  We'd spend our summers traveling with Brian around the world.  [Insert man]'s kids would come visit us with their friends on college break.  We'd dream of retiring to Europe - either Ireland or Italy.

[Now, before I start receiving emails of shock from people reminding me that [insert man] is [insert secret]  Please keep in mind that A.[Secret is not that bad], and the marriage that linked us has long been over since [hiding secret to protect everyone] B. There is more to the story, but it is private, this is the Internet and I am not putting it here to be shot at later, C. I am writing my thoughts, which isn't reality or doesn't mean I will do anything about it.  JUST THOUGHTS...which regular redheads have everyday, but seldom act upon.]  Now back to my story...

Uncle Bill snaps me back to reality from my daydream when he asks, "Alice, do you have my card with you?"  Uncle Bill is retired from the Air Force.  He retired from McChord Air Force Base in Olympia.  The next thing I know he is flashing his card at the gates to the McChord Air Force Base.  I am about to see the first military base I have been on since high school.  I am suddenly jolted to attention.  I love F-16's - maybe we will see one.  This is the first time Brian has been on a military base.  Bill glances at me and says, "I want to show Brian something".  Bless his heart for knowing boys and wanting to open up Brian's world andexpose him to the wonder of military jet aircraft.

There is an Air Museaum on the base, and as we approach I am already unlocking my door.  We stop and get out. Brian and I are thrilled.  There is a A-10A Thunderbolt II; a Douglas B-18A Bolo and a B-23A Dragon; a C-47C Skytrain; a C-82A Packet and a C-124C Globemaster, along with a C-141B StarLifter; oh and a F-4C Phantom II; a F-15A Eagle; and finally a T-33A Shooting Star.  We can walk right up and touch everything.  Brian and I are amazed at the size of the bombs.  What it must be like to travel like a comet across the sky.

The museum gallery was closed due to the 4th of July holiday, but inside is a F-106 simulator and a Control Tower. We spend a good hour looking at every piece of equipment, while Bill explaining it in great detail.  Brian ran around pretending he was in the air force....boys...

It is late afternoon and the sun feels warm on my back as Bill, Brian and I explore.  This base is beautiful.  Aunt Alice once worked here assigning base housing.  From the museum, Uncle Bill drives us to the air strip. Unfortunately for me (and Brian) nothing is taking off. No F-16's today, but the tour of the base is enthralling.  Aunt Alice yells, "We have to get back home Bill!"  I am sure she has been on this 'Bill Tour' a thousand times.  However, we are approaching the finest hours of my birthday (in honor of me)   ...fireworks.

Back at Aunt Alice and Uncle Bill's nephew Mitch is running around concocting his fireworks plan.  I have no idea what we are doing.  Mitch races up to me in his truck, "Get Brian and get in!" he shouts.  Brian already is running for the truck.  I grab a blanket and sweater.  Cousin Jeff and his wife (from Fallon) pull up in a really really REALLY big penis truck with a bunch of chairs in the bed.  Even my redneck cousins know how to invade Washington wild country. 

Mitch, with a cigarette in his mouth smiles and shouts, "We are about to corrupt your son - you better not bitch!" ME bitch?  We are off to where.... I have no idea.  "Have you ever seen real bottle rockets up close Brian?" he asks, as Brian sits glued to him in the truck, hanging on his every word.  Oh good lord.  Now I am going to get arrested with my son.

Mitch tells us we are on our way to the Indian Reservation where illegal fireworks are legal AND there is a huge fireworks show from the casino. Oh ok, so we will only get arrested when LEAVING.  I feel so much better.  Delaying handcuffs and the back of a squad car comforts me. We travel down this winding country road, heading east out of Olympia, through massive redwoods and country I would give anything to have a home on.  Mitch is puffing on his cigarette and talking a mile a minute to Brian. I've lost both of them to their own boy-men world.

We cross the reservation line and cars and trucks are going in every direction.  Sudeenly it is clear to me that we are not in Kansas anymore... let alone Washington, or the United States. A dark, thick haze of smoke covers the ground to about 10 feet high.  It sounds like a reenactment of the revolutionary war.  Suddenly, I want to let the natives know my family came to America from Ireland via CANADA many years after other stupid white folk took their land.  Did you know on a reservation one can pile 25 men in the back of a truck, with cases of beer and drive on the wrong side of the road and not get arrested?   Who knew?  I really need to move here!

Mitch finds his "regular" parking place in the middle of this dry field.  Jeff gets out and immediately starts his own fireworks display.  Bottle rockets and fireworks that usually are controlled by professionals I have never met in my own town, are being set off by every day people with a Bic lighter and a Budweiser.  I imagine that we are going to return home without limbs and hair.  Brian is literally dancing.  Ok, I was not the buzz kill, but I did need a valium.

About this time,  Jeff decides his fireworks show just isn't manly enough, since everyone else around us is exploding enough fireworks to send their trucks to the moon.  He's got to take a walk with Mitch.  They tell Brian he is 'in charge' uhhhhhh HELLLOOO.  Brian puffs up like a turkey before Thanksgiving.  Yeh, he's a man alright...right up until I tell him it's bedtime and remind him who brought him into this world.  Jeff and Mitch go see some "friends" on the reservation and come back with 28 super bottle rockets. 

Yes, I did type 28.

As I survey the 10 inch tall, dried yellow grass surrounding us, I surmise the world will be hearing about this huge Washington fire started on a reservation by some stupid white people who came to America through Canada some decades back and the FBI is trying to find them.  Fox television will have it's own news special; 'Fireworks! A fire on a Washington Reservation.  Terrorism or race wars?'

Jeff decides it's a great idea to line the bottle rockets 4 in a row and set them off with a smaller volcano firework.  Oi.  Men always believe they need to reinvent the wheel.  What is it about the male species?  Why do they always have to show that they are bigger, better, stronger?  Some throw back to the caveman days?  I make Brian stand with me back with the truck as a possible shield.  Good lord, is this really how we celebrate my birthday?

Kaaaabooom off goes the first, then the second, third and forth.  Ok, I'll admit...this is damn cool.  We are our own artillery unit now.  All hail  Catherine the Great's birthday squadron.  (Just ignore the men I am with who are smoking cigarettes while surrounded by fireworks).  Jeff and Mitch set off all the bottle rockets.  People around us applaud.  Good God, please people don't encourage them! 

I fear we will be launching canon fire next.  Brian thinks he has died and gone to heaven.  Luckily we all have our limbs and haven't burned anything down when at 10pm the casino fireworks show begins. We pull our chairs from Jeff's truck, sit down and take the rest in.  HA!  We are still alive.  It's a great birthday.

At 11:30pm, we arrive back at Uncle Bill and Aunt Alice's home and get ready for bed.  Brian is still wound up and wants to talk to me.  Isn't my birthday over yet?  He finally falls asleep somewhere around 12:30.  Well, at least he won't be waking up early...

It's now Tuesday. Mom and Uncle Bill go to the mechanic's shop to check on the car.  It turns out it's the alternator and it can be fixed in a day.  Looks like I will be going back to California.  Damn.  The dream to stay in Washington is quickly fading.  Reality is setting in.  My cell phone is beginning to ring with phone calls from clients.  I am on ROAM.  They won't be hearing from me while ROAM is in session, unless I can charge two points on the loan. Brian tells me he is missing his Dad, his dog Boonie and his cat Annabelle.  California is beginning to pull me home with a vengeance.

We hang out at Alice and Bill's for the day.  At noon, big Uncle Bud and Aunt Patricia stop by pulling their trailer.  They are leaving and resuming the rest of their trip.  Patricia owns land in Alaska and they are off to spend the rest of the summer in the great northwest.  This is the Uncle from Fallon, Nevada who looks like a noble character right out of a Louis Lamour western epic novel. With his thin build, large cowboy hat, huge mustache, Levis jeans and cowboy boots - all he needs is a pair of 6 shooters.  I adore him.  He is 85 years old and acts like he is 50.  In Alaska, he will be chopping down trees and clearing their property.  Yes, he does this himself.  He always teases me and tells me he's a young stud because he marries younger women.  Patricia is 62.  Well... he has buried two other wives who died of cancer. I am of the opinion that no one can keep up with him.  What a stud.  He tells me to get a younger man, and winks at my mother (his step-sister) informing her that he has "set me straight".  Yeh, I'll go right out and marry that 21 year old guy...(rolling eyes)...

As he pulls away in his huge diesel truck pulling his trailer, he yells, "Cat!! Get yer butt to Fallon for a visit and bring Brian.  I'll teach him about ranchin!  We'll be back home in September!"  He waves, and in a heartbeat they are gone.  This vacation is going by too fast.  God, how I miss the days this big family of aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents got together twice a year in Sonoma County.  Christmas eve was the best.  Now we are scattered like stars against the night sky.

The phone rings.  My mother's car will be ready at 3:00.  It's time to pack.  My mom wants to leave and drive to Grants Pass Oregon as soon as the car is ready.  Damn.  I am going back home starting today.  At 3:00 sharp the car is returned to Aunt Alice and Uncle Bill's home.  Service in a small town...wow.  (Or maybe they just want people from California to hurry up and leave the state...?...)

Sadly, it is time to say our goodbyes.  Aunt Carmen is there, Mitch is in school, Ron, Randy, Ray and Rick are at work and Rob (BOB) is in his earn on the mantle. We exchange hugs and tears as I get into the driver's seat.  Brian has been sitting in the back seat since the car was returned.  He is ready to go home.  

As we pull out of the driveway "Every RoseHas Its Thorn'by Poison is on the radio. [Insert secret man] and I slow danced to this song.  The lyrics couldn't be more appropriate.  Funny how coincedences like this happen to me all the time.  Brian mom and I are now on the freeway heading south towards home, Olympia is fading in the rear view mirror.  Farewell Washington.

On the way to Washington, we stayed at my redheaded Aunt Colleen and Uncle Leon's home in Grants Pass, Oregon.  Aunt Colleen is my father's oldest sister.  Now, a week later, we will be returning for our last night of vacation.  She is a crazy redhead, so at least the vacation will end on a high note.  It is Colleen's eldest son who was a pitcher for the Yankees and is the coach at Grants Pass High School.  She is a real character - so is my Uncle Leon.  Colleen looks and acts like Luciele Ball. Leon looks and acts like Art Carney (for those of you that remember the Jackie Gleason show).  They are a riot together.

We arrive in Grants Pass at 10:30pm exhausted and road weary.  I'd love a martini, but I don't drink them anymore.  Aunt Colleen and Uncle Leon weren't home yet.  Ever since Leon's 11th or 12th heart attack, Aunt Colleen accompanies him to cousin Stacy's baseball games.  Not only is Stacy the high school baseball coach, but his brother's sons play on his team.  The game was in overtime.  I get my PJ's on, wash my face and crawl into the spare bed.  I barely remember Brian saying goodnight.

The following morning at what seems like the crack of dawn, Aunt Colleen and my mother are at the dining room table chatting girl-talk over cups of coffee.  They did grow up together, and Colleen, is after all, the sister of that handsome man in the Army uniform that swept my mother off her feet those so many years ago.  {My dad} My Aunt Colleen still cannot bring up my dad's name without tears rolling down her cheeks.

My dad's death was as if the sun went out and we have all been living by artificial light ever since.  Brian has helped to bring the light back into my world.  Aunt Colleen cried when she saw him.  "Oh my God. He is your Dad all over" she grins.  "Yes, yes he is" I smile back.  Brian is twisting in his skin from all the attention, but Colleen is spoiling him rotten like she does with all us kids and Brian has fallen madly in love with her.

I pull myself out of bedand join themfor coffee.  I don't get to see her as much as I used to.  Growing up, I always ended my summers with a visit (by myself) to Aunt Colleen and Uncle Leon's home - where ever it was.  Being as she was in a house with all boys, she would pamper me with beauty tips and products.  She has owned her own salon ever since I can remember.  I don't leave this time without a bang trim and a facial.  Some things never change.

We have our breakfasts, and assemble our things.  It's time to get back on the road.  Instead of returning by Interstate 5, my mother wants to return through Crescent City and the giant Northern California redwoods.  It's a beautiful sunny day and by the end of it I will be back home.  Back to reality. 

The drive is smooth and lined with trees of all types.  As we approach the Smith river and Patricks Creek, my mom begins to tell Brian her stories about growing up in this part of California.  Her father had a ranch that makes up most of Garberville out to Black Sand Beach and Shelter Cove. Ultimately, he died of a massive heart attack and my grandmother moved off the ranch and operated a general store near Crescent City.  All the women in my family tree are business women.  There has never been a "stay-at-home" mom in the group...ever.  Must be something about Irish women...

We have lunch at my mother's favorite Crescent City restaurant, which is known for its clam chowder and seafood.  It's a thick foggy day - like the chowder.  Staring out the window I have decided not to return to mortgage banking.  I can do some free-lance work and have had some offers for contract work. The decision brings me peace, a peace I have not felt in years.

The next step besides starting a new career is getting well from this Hashimotos disease.  Baby steps.  As we drive out of Crescent City I feel content.  I can go back home.  I can change things.  I can form the dream group and create the next stage of my life.  I look down at my beautifully painted toes from Ron's daughter's handy work.  I may not live where I want, or am living the life I want, but I am loved by some amazingly wonderful people...and I have a fabulous family.

Until next time...

C

VACATION TRAVEL

To me, travel is like a long tunnel.  A wide open archway leading to a place where time and distance reveal the hidden treasures at the other side.  It is rather like Einstein's equivalence principle, in that the drive to Washington, the pull to get me to the other side of that tunnel (where I wanted to stay) was equal to the pull of California and my responsibilities wanting to keep me at home. 

Luckily for me, my mother insisted that Brian and I attend this family reunion, and as usual, she was right.  As soon as Sonoma County was just a blur in the distance of Interstate 5 I felt myself letting go of the burdens I had been carrying around for such a long time.  I love staring out a window lost in thought for hours at a time.  To watch the different paintings of people's lives unfold before my eyes through the clear canvas of a car window.

Northeren California is yellow at this time of year and the dried grass looks like soft brissles of a boar's brush.  Oregon is green, like dew covered valleys in the morning. Washington is dark green, vibrant and full of strength in  trees and mountains.  Washington bellows.

This part of my family nessles itself in Olympia, Tacoma, Lacey and Southern Seattle.  The reunion was at a golf course club house in Olympia - not far from the Hams brewery.  Everything is lush and green, and the weather is warm.  Washington feels like a soft sweater about my shoulders. 

My mother took care of everything, wanting me to relax and not think of any details.  Usually I would have issue with this, but this time I just let her orchestrate my trip like a concert master of a great symphonic performance.  And for a brief time I was able to let other people take care of me (and Brian) and feel what it is like to be a kid again in summer.  No cares, and plenty of cousins to play with.  It turned out to be the perfect gift for my 45th birthday.

With this side of my family (the Backman's) there is always an adventure when we get together.  Our "gatherings" have been going on since I was about 8. There is usually no less than 80 people who travel from the far corners to give hugs and kisses.  Ever since 1979 when a group of us cousins got lost on the river north of Fallon Nevada and missed my Big Uncle Bud's 2nd wedding (where one of the cousins was suppose to be the best man), it seems I am now always a part of the latest hilarity that happens when we get together.

There is a bond between a group of us cousins that connects like old championship teamates who once won some great sporting event many decades ago.  I think it is difficult for some of the wives and husbands of the cousins to fully understand the bond.  Especially since we are not blood cousins, but don't you dare say that in front of this crew.  To the Backman's we are true blue - blood family stock and it's fightin words if you say otherwise.

The family reunion was actually my Aunt Alice and Uncle Bill's 50th wedding Anniversary celebration.  Their 5 sons and 1 daughter (along with her own brothers and sisters) decided to have a surprise family reunion party and get us all togther to help celebrate their constant devotion to eachother.  Yes, this did also include plenty of wine and beer.

Oh yes...and golf.

Aunt Alice's and Uncle Bill's boys are Randy, Ron, Rick, Ray and Rob.  I didn't know them much in my younger years, since they grew up in the Lacey area and I was down in California.  They did manage to make it to at least one family function every year or two.  Six years ago we threw a surprise 80th birthday party for big Uncle Bud in Fallon Nevada, and Aunt Alice and Uncle Bill came down with only one son - Ron.

Ron...oi.

Ron was without his wife who keeps him under a tight reign, and Brian was on a camping trip with his dad.  After Big Uncle Bud's birthday party most of the family went out gambling. When they had their fill of losing money, they decided to go back to the hotels....except for Ron and I.  We opted to stay at the casino and go dancing.  This was soon to be known as the "Ron - and Catherine - out - all - night - with - the - parents - in - their - pjs - and curlers - out - looking - for - them" escapade.  Ron and I were both in our late 30's,,,

It was one of the most fun nights of my life.  There were 5 Navy cadets gambling near us and one won 2500 on the slots.  Ron loves to dance (just like me) and the cadet that won offered to pay the cab to take us to a live music dance club.  Ron and I raced to the cab, which took us to the club on the outskirts of town.  We ended up dancing all night....almost non-stop...with only eachother.  The cadets thought we were married. I will never forget their faces when we said we were cousins.  I am sure they felt we must be from Alabama...

Me being from California, and Ron from Washington we figured we'd leave after 'last call'.  Little did we realize we were in Nevada where clubs serve alcohol 24/7 and the bands play until 4am.  The dance floor was made of hard wood and stretched across half the club.  We were definately in the wild west.  People smoked in the club, so a soft haze filled the darkness giving the room that sultry effect. It was a perfect place to get lost in dancing.  Ron is a great dancer, most unusual for a white boy from Washington.  Then again, he is also a brilliant geek brain who shaves his head and thinks he's "all that".

He is kind, sexy and fun.  So I suppose he is "all that" for the most part.  Shhhhhhh.  Just don't tell him I wrote it here.  Luckily he doesn't have this blog address...yet. 

I have only seen Ron once since that fatefull night 6 years ago.  He came down for the OTHER Uncle Bud and Aunt Marge's 50th wedding Anniversary 4 years ago.  (yes, I come from a long line of family who stays married - except me and my brother).  Ron greeted me then with a big hug and kiss, but this time I couldn't stay long. I had a friend's wedding to attend and needed to leave right away. We were still the talk of the family...the all night adventure in Fallon.  (Our parents went to the local police department in PJ's and when the officer found out Ron and my ages he sent them home and told them to go to bed...).

In Olympia on Saturday, Aunt Alice and Uncle Bill were shocked when they walked into the clubhouse and 100 of their friends and family yelled, "SURPRISE!"  Alice buried her face in her hands and began to cry.  Once again, even with all the distractions (and his wife) Ron found his way to stand near me, and then kiss me hello.  He is brave, I'll give him that. 

Every time I looked up he was smiling at me from across the room.  If I was standing with cousins, he would come and stand next to me.  This must have made his wife oh so happy.  It was odd for me because I have been very tired and not myself these past two years.  He looks at me like I am the same crazy fun laughing girl that went out dancing with him that special night. His eyes sparkle and light up, full of myschief, as if to say "I really know you, and I like you". 

When men do this I have a tendancy to pull away.  This reunion was no different, and I went outside numerous times to check on Brian and the kids. They were all hitting balls on the drving range right outside the window.  Believe it or not, I often take the path of least resistance and try to remove myself from any equasion that makes me uncomfortable.  I couldn't have tried harder not to be interesting.  When the party ended, Aunt Alice invited everyone to her and Bill's home.  Great...now I have to be in really close quarters with everyone...

I brought along the book KB gave me about women writers and settled into a far corner of Alice's home and began reading.  After the 70th "What are you reading???" I realized I was attracting more attention - not less by reading.  I went into the kitchen and pulled up a chair with my favoritecousin Kathy's husband Pat, who was bummed that my brother had chosen not to come up.  Pat and my brother once worked togther at my father's old company. We talked construction, my brother and family.  He is a nice guy and I adore Kathy.

While sitting there, Ron's wife decides to get down a bottle of tequilla and insists that all the women in the house do shots.  NO WAY for me.  I looked at Pat with one of those "You have GOT to be kidding me" glances and he laughed.  Out come the shot glasses.  I did not participate and Ron's wife tried to force the issue.  Ron was laying down in Alice's bedroom with a headache and I so get why.  Several of my female cousins downed shots.

The next thing I know, one cousin's wife, who just turned 40 and is having a hard time growing older, began telling everyone about her plastic surgeries.  Yes, and the boob job.  Next thing I know, Ron's wife and this cousins wife are lifting their blouses in my Aunt's kitchen comparing breasts.  OH LORD, this is when I have to exit stage left, because if you knew my Aunties and Uncles this was soooooo not okay.  BIG TIME, and I'll be damned if I was going to be involved in any way in this new side of these women.

I often wonder what is happening here, where women in their 40's feel the need to compete with women in their 20's and treat their bodies in an exhibiting manner. Is there no grace in growing old, and loving our lives as they are, and our bodies for what they have acomplished?  My body survived a near death experience at birth and produced Brian,  We stopped breathing together and then came back with a vegence.  Where are the men baring their penis' for us to view and compare? 

Where is the true art that is a woman's body?  The gentle softness, our ability to bring forth life?  At 45 I am the product of the survival of my life.  If I were Joan of Arc i would be painted and written about for ages to come.  Do I erase the images of my amazing life with plastic surgury and then flash the new created me before strangers to see?

If I could have photographed Pat's expression it would have said everything.  He looked at me, I looked at him and I started to laugh.  I only wish my older brother would have been there, because I know he would have had a comment that would have put Pat and I on the floor.  I leaned into Pat's ear, "I am out of here", He laughed and said "I should follow".  I didn't wait to see.  I went out to the porch where everyone else was and asked my mom for her keys. I told her I was tired and wanted to take Brian and little Megan back to the hotel to go swimming.

She handed over the keys and told me Aunt Dorothy would give her a ride back.  I rounded up Megan and Brian who were thrilled to be leaving.  As I excellerated the car up the street towards the hotel, it begins to die.  Slowly I come to a complete stop at the side of this country road.  Thank God for cell phones that work.  A little voice from the back seat whispers to Brian "Are we going to die?".  Brian turns to Magen, "NO! My mom handles eeverything!".  From the mouth of babes...

I call Aunt Alice's and cousin Mitch, Uncle Bill and my mother appear.  Mitch and Bill try and jump the car - no good it's dead.  Bill calls AAA and Mitch and I remanence about the time we were stuck on that river in Fallon.  Bill offers to return me and the kids to the hotel. I glady accept since mosquitos have now decided I am the most delicous thing since pure sugar.

My mothers beautiful car is towed to a mechanic who won't be seen until the 4th of July weekend is over.  We are now officially stuck in Washington.  I begin dreaming about it being a permanent thing.  Bill is upset about the wild exhibitions of some of his nieces and daughter in law.  I am gald I left, even if the car was now dead.  I joked that this time it was NOT my fault.

The following morning we are back at Aunt Alice and Uncle Bill's to have bloody Mary's, cofee and breakfast.  They are also opening cards and gifts.  All the family is there, even those set to catch flights.  Minus one woman who's husband hauled her back home at 5am - a straight drive from Olympia Washington to Ukiah California.  My guess is that she pucked the whole way and wasn't showing anyone her breasts.  Does pucking hurt Botox treatments?

Ron brings me a cup of coffee and sits himself down next to me on the porch.  I think he likes to push my buttons.  It is fun to have the attention, and his wife watches my every move.  Suddenly she invites those of us staying to a bar-b-que at her house for the 4th of July and in honor of my birthday.  Oh shi* am I really going to his house???  Ron leans over, "You are spending your 45th birthday at my house".  Oi.  You just can't make this shi* up.  The gifts are all open and part of the family is leaving and saying their long goodbyes.  We can't believe it's over.

Kathy, Pat, Mitch, Aunt Marge and I want to take Megan and Brian down to the State Capital and the pier for the afternoon.  It's an unusually warm sunny day in Olympia.  We arrive in time to see farmers market in full swing.  Fresh flowers and the smell of the ocean fill the air.  Seagulls sing and fishing bells ring.  It's Sunday at the pier.  I feel like I have arrived at my true home.  I stare longingly at the homes arcoss the harbor that line the water's edge like paintings in a gallery. I sigh and take it all in...the sounds, the smell the sights.  I don't want to go back home.

Brian and Megan have made their way down to the beach and have discovered the many small crabs that live along the shallow waters at the shore.  They squeal with delight as they cup the tiny crustasions up in their hands.  Brian wades out into the water, enjoying the feel of the cold sea water between his toes.  I could watch the kids forever.  Mitch leans over and comments what a great kid Brian is and who would have thought I'd be such a great mom.  I laugh as he elbows me.

The day fades into a tranquil ease as if time has lulled itself to sleep.  The kids finish the day at the hotel pool and I take a nap.  This is what vacation is suppose to feel like.  It's the day before my birthday.

I am jolted awake in the morning by Brian's insisting that I open my present and get up.  Good lord what time is it?  My mother and Brian sing one of those off key Happy Birthdays that make me laugh.  I open my gift.  It's 50 dollars (that will get spent on Brian) and a gaelic blanket.  THis blanket is all my favorite irish colors and is covered in celtic crosses.  It's beautiful.  My mother sure got this one right.

The phone rings. It's Mitch. It seems we are going to be staying at Alice and Bill's until the car is fixed and Mitch is coming to get us at 11am.  From Alice and Bill's home we will be leaving to go to Ron's home for a 4th of July Bar-b-que.  Oh lord here we go...

We pack our things, eat a light breakfast and Mitch brings Uncle Bill's truck to carry our travel belongings to Alice and Bill's home.  He won't let us lift a thing.  Mitch is a sweet man - he always has been.  He was the cousin that made sure I was ok at family parties at Uncle Lindy and Aunt Dorothy's Rose Avenue home in Penngrove.  He lived in Petaluma back then.  He would always come find me as soon as my family arrived, grab my hand and say "Come on Cath, we are all playing on the side of the hill.  We've been waiting for you!" and away we'd go.  It doesn't surprise me that he has taken over making sure we are ok.  He's a great cousin.

Once we are at Alice and Bill's everyone unpacks us so we can't lift a thing.  Can I live here permanently?  Alice insists it is time for us to go to Ron's.  Mitch isn't coming.  He's studying to be a radiology tech and has just started his summer session.  He's got homework, but leans over and promises Brian that he will be back to take us to see some amazing fireworks later.  Thats Mitch, always thinking of others...now its my son.

The drive to Ron's is long and close to Southern Seattle.  My Uncle Bill drives us on back roads thatI could never find again if my life depended on it, through a section of homes built in the day when large yards were the norm.  We turn a corner and drive up a long narrow street...we are at Ron's home.  Lucky for me all of the other relatives left in Washington are arriving at the same time.  Thank God for small miracles.  There are lots of hellos, laughter and happy birthdays.  I am hoping to slip quietly through the front door...

When Ron appears at the doorway with that big grin of his.  "Welcome to my home Cathy" he says with a laugh.  "This is too surreal and something I never planned on seeing" I whisper to him as I go by.  He laughs.  Now the woman who kept Ron out all night is in his home.  And, I am about to be hanging with his kids.  There just isn't a big enough hole for me to dive into...

and...it's my 45th birthday...oi 

Ron's wife has been busy preparing a feast, and has managed to have everyone's favorite wine and beer.  Ron hands me an ice cold Corona beer.  "I know you like this, we bought them in honor of your birthday".  I take my beer and go out into his back yard.  It's spacious and set up for a party.  I sit down with my cousin Kathy on a lawn chair and we clink beers in a toast.  Let the birthday officailly begin.

The food and company is wonderful.  Megan and Brian play on the hammock.  Ron shows them how to sit on it without falling to the ground.  Sitting in the kitchen at one point, Ron's brother Randy pulls up a chair and we chat about being divorced.  Ron comes in and starts cleaning the kitchen.  He hands me a beer, smiles and says, "I can't go dancing with you tonight".  We laugh. Randy asks about the car, "How long do you think you will be here?"  I look at Randy, "I don't know.  Depends on what is wrong...maybe I will just stay and never go back to California". Ron spins around from the sink "That would be fine with us!  We'll help you get settled."

If wishes were horses...and I am quite sure his wife would just hate it, even though she has been very kind.  She is a ball buster to Ron though - always on his case and bitching.  She has now commented several times to everyone that he never wants sex with her.  I cringe for Ron.  Why do some women act this way, and how does he keep from not killing her?  Further more, why does he put up with it?   This causes me to realize that our famous dancing all night great time in Fallon now makes perfect sense to me.  I squeeze Randy's arm and go back outside.  Ron's 19 year old daughter is painting her nails.  She looks up, smiles and says, "Want me to paint your toenails for your birthday?"  She's cute.  "Sure" I say, and sit down across from her.

While my toes are drying, Ron's daughter sneeks into the kitchen and puts a candle in a brownie, lights it and brings it outside.  Everyone sings happy birthday. Megan and Brian race to blow out the one candle.  I want time to stop.  It's an unusually sunny day and the puffy clouds in the sky are "ocean clouds"...my favorite, and the type one only sees near the ocean.

Aunt Alice says it is time to go.  They want to make sure Brian doesn't miss the fireworks show Mitch has planned.  My time at Ron's home is over. Pat, Kathy, Megan and Aunt Marge are leaving for the airport to fly back to Santa Rosa.  More of the family is going back home.  It is all going by like a fast train - too fast.  We say our goodbyes and I hug Ron.  It's one of those 'I don't know when I'll see you again' hugs that conveys much more than the simple, solid hug.  The next thing I know we are back in Uncle Bill's car traveling back over the same roads towards Lacey.  I won't be seeing Ron anytime soon, and for the first time, it bothers me.