I CAN BREATH!

My nose has been running a marathon since the first thaw this spring. I don't mind. It could be worse. I could be full of snot and NOT have a runny nose. In my book congestion is worse than free flow.

But there is an absolutely disgusting gadget on the market these days to help combat nasal congestion. If you get congested a lot you have got to try it out.

It's a squirt bottle that you fill with a saline solution then you stuff the nozzle up one nostril and squirt the liquid up your nose. The saline goes up your nose, into your sinuses, and out the other nostril (and your mouth... don't swallow!), taking snot and mucus from your sinus cavities along with it. If you're not sure that it is actually doing it's job, just look in the sink as the saline pours out of your nose and into the basin. Yep, chunks and sludge!

As disgusting as it sounds, it is instant relief for this allergy suffering old lady and her pollen ravaged sinuses. Even the sinus headaches are gone. I feel positively rejuvenated. Sure beats the booger-ball that sucks out the mucus and your eye balls as well if you're not careful.

Now I can enjoy the fragrance of a warm spring morning, the roses, the lilacs, the Water Treatment Plant down the way...

Ah, spring time! I love it!

pensive...

Today was one of those days that started off good, kept getting better and then 'poof', I had to ruin it all by going home.

Sometimes I think my family is selfish. Then I feel selfish for thinking so. Either way, it sucks like a big bad baby. I have found that I get over it more quickly now days. Perhaps I've matured and learned to accept things that I cannot change... blah blah blah. Maybe I've become complacent and it doesn't matter that much. Or maybe I've become callous and I just don't care.

Either, or, and all of the above. What ever.

I sat alone on the patio while the others ate the meal I rushed to prepare as soon as I got home from work. Even the clouds were against me. But when I squinted real hard I saw that despite the gloomy over cast sky, the stars were still bright and shiny, as always. That made me smile. That always makes me smile. And when I turned around to go back inside I saw a sliver of the moon glowing softly in the dark.

Never saw the moon when it wasn't beautiful. 48 years and it still takes my breath away.

'Poof' and the evening ended well... as always.

And the answer is.....

GABE!

He rode in on the late Greyhound bus, looking just as good as he did the last time we saw him. Sadly this trip was made alone... no Kim, no Ryott or other little ones. It's a long story, sad story. It would make a good country 'somebody done somebody wrong' song, or a plot for a soap opera. At any rate, Gabe is here, Kim and the boys are 'there', and it looks like that is the way things will stay.

It was a white Easter here in the Springs. The snowflakes drifted lazily to the ground. I like standing outside when it's like that, no wind, just a faint wisp of motion as the flakes descend from the sky. I know I've mentioned this before and many people think I'm crazy for saying it, but the snowflakes really do make a tinkling sound as they fall. It's a soothing, peaceful sound. It sounds like home.

My boy is finally home.

I hope everyone's Easter was a wonderful as ours.

pssst!

The Easter Bunny is bringing us Easter Eggs and Peeps on Sunday morning. But guess what the Easter Grayhound is bringing us on Sunday Evening?

Go ahead, guess!

Bubble Wrapped

A while back, more like two decades ago, a good friend of Steve's and mine died tragically in a car accident. Up until then the only deaths I had to deal with were from elderly relatives by natural causes. The fragility of life and the finality of death shocked me to the core. There would be more to come, some only months apart... until a rainy night took one of our dearest friends from us and I cried until I was sure I had used up my very last tear.

I did not. That would come in 2000 when a young friend, almost as close as any of my sons, lost his life. The pain that I thought could not get worse... did. The tears I thought for sure had dried up... flooded.

That was when I decided that I could not take any more. I distanced myself from friends. I held back from new acquaintances. I wrapped my heart in a cocoon of bubble wrap to ward off any further pain.

The bubble wrap worked. A good man, one that I enjoyed talking to when ever we met but never went out of my way to seek out, died last week. From within my protective wrapper I was unaware that he had even been ill. I did not know he was gone until a week later. Upon hearing the news I struggled to recall his face and to hear his voice. My mind drew a blank and no tears fell.

I pulled up the obituary, for the third time this evening. I saw the kind and gentle face, the rumpled hair I liked to make fun of. In the back of my mind I heard his voice as he talked about hunting. We would both take turns poking fun at Steve. We should have been friends.

I should have known that he was ill. A friend would have known.

I read once that feeling pain every now and then lets you know that you are alive. I have been suffocating myself in an effort to shield myself from hurt. I need to know what it is like to be a good friend again. If it hurts from time to time, I am sure it will have been worth it.

In the quiet of the house, unprotected by bubble wrap, tears of sadness and regret finally fell and it felt good to feel again.

He was a good man, and a good friend.

Some things never change...

I was just reading my previous entries and realized that in the picture of my three sisters and me, I was the slob of the bunch. They all had neatly combed hair, charming smiles... and purses! Then there's me, with yesterday's ponytail, my 'ahhhh, hurry up and take the picture already!' grimace, lopsided glasses perched on my crooked nose, and an over-drawn debit card in the closest to a purse I have... my butt pocket. I was, still am and probably will always be a mess!

But my sisters don't mind because I make them look good.

And I don't mind because they make me feel good!

Weigh off!

A word of advice to any weight conscious people out there: Never step on an unfamiliar scale!

While traveling cross country and during one of my many Rest Stop visits, I stepped on a brightly decorated scale. For a mere quarter it promised to give me my accurate weight and monthly horoscope. Sucker that I am I stepped upon the platform and deposited a coin.

It lied! I do NOT weigh... what ever it said I weighed, and opportunity did not knock on my motel room door at any point during the trip!

I want my quarter back!

Upon my return home I rushed to the bathroom and pulled out my favorite (broken) scale. I dusted it off and set it gently on the floor. I stepped on it's peeling surface and watched the dial turn first one way and then the other before it kindly settled with the little arrow pointing very definitely at 148 pounds.

Yes!

The fact that everyone who steps on my scale weighs 148 pounds is just a coincidence. My scale is in perfect working order.

Honk if you pick your nose!

I was noticing on my little continental road trip, that people sure do like to pick their noses while they're driving. These same people probably wouldn't dream of stuffing their index or pinkie finger (the most popular digit due to it's smaller size) up their nostril in public, but for some reason they don't consider their vehicle with windows on 3 sides allowing a clear view to the other motorists zooming beside them on the asphalt to be 'public', so they dig away.

Equally puzzling is the spectator's disgusted fascination. I must admit that despite my distaste of the spectacle, I found myself mesmerized and unable to tear my gaze away from the scene as it unfolded beside me, one lane over.

'Oh no, you are not going to eat it!'

Oh yes, he did. They always do. Or they wipe it on some surface just out of view. Occasionally they will flick their catch of the day out the window and our eyes might meet. They might even smile. They still believe that they possess the ability to become invisible when they pick their nose. I can only imagine the pile of nose pickin's on the floor of the vehicle.

I always wondered where those little pebbles on the little floor mats came from.

Now I think I know...

So any way, I was driving home from work this evening and without even realizing it, my right index finger sought out my right nostril in the dark.

I came to my senses before I violated my nasal passage, but I heeded the warning.

Goober drilling is contagious!

'Flick it, don't eat it. No snacking between meals, you'll ruin your appetite!'

Ahhhhhh....

In all of our excitement, the Aunties/Sisters forgot to get a picture so we enlisted the help of a kind random stranger at the airport to capture the moment for us before Lisa boarded her plane. This morning I put Val on her plane to return to the Yak Farm and a surreal feeling came over me as life grudgingly returned to normal. I had such a wonderful time with my older sisters and am so grateful that we are close enough physically and emotionally to be able to continue a relationship with each other even after we have moved away and made separate lives with our own families. I cannot stress enough to the Oompas how important family ties are... now and in the future.

Don't waste time over petty differences. Always love each other.

Having said that, it really is nice to be back home. Dickidoo had gifts for us girls from the Denver March Pow Wow which we had to miss. And while he didn't say so, I choose to believe that his familiar smile meant that he missed me, even just a little bit. After all, he saved us some of the ribs he was bragging about the other night while we feasted on luke warm hot pockets for the 2nd night in a row.

Zack barely acknowledged us when we entered the door, never even taking his eyes of the WOW screen. When I nagged him, he grinned but snarled in his customary style . It was obvious that aliens had NOT abducted him, same old Zack. Oddly enough his goofy snarl was missed and it was nice to hear it again after 11 days of not.

Art probably missed his Pink Haired Girlfriend more than he missed anyone else, which is as it should be. His own plans for a trip to Oklahoma had been cancelled due to the blizzard so he spent most of the time baby sitting his Pink Haired Girlfriends little Purple Haired Brother... and Jubilee!

Jubilee grew while we were away. And she has learned a new trick, to lay down on command.

She still eats shit. Grrrr!

I think even my Nephew missed me a little and he followed me around sharing his adventures of living the 'Bachelor Life' and other bits of random trivia. I mess with him a lot and sometimes he drives me nuts... Okay, he drives me nuts A LOT! But I missed him too.

But one thing I missed without realizing until my return was my toilet.

I had been in more different restrooms in the 11 days of my trip than I had been in all of 2008. Some were fancy, some were not so fancy. One boasted of being the Cleanest on I80. One claimed to be 'pretty' (it was!). The farm had a motion activated light which shuts off after 15 minutes. (really cool unless you're taking a 16 minute shower). A couple of the motels had a heating lamp which I used on occasion.

But none was as comforting or welcoming (or custom fitted) like mine right here in Loompa-Land. When I finally sat down on my throne after such a long absence I knew that I was in fact home.

My butt sighed. (excuse me!)

Ah, Pocket Yahtzee, right where I left it.