Funerals

Got the news that my cousin Gene passed away as I was entering the church to attend Aunt Alma's funeral on Dec. 10. According to Duncan, Gene's entire immediate family was surrounding him when he died. They sang Amazing Grace at some point. It sounded like something out of Norman Rockwell. I saw tears in a few of my cousins' eyes during the funeral service. Tears for Gene. It was a unique situation.

At the graveside I thought of Mother's last moment on earth and how different it was from Gene's. None of her family was with her. Only that crazy old-person killer, JoAnn, all the time talking with that annoying accent while Mom was in pain. Mom called me. I complained about the time. She died. I wish I would have been with her. I feel sorry for her to have to die that way. I'm glad I was the last person she spoke with.

Went to Gene's funeral yesterday in the midst of a terrible flooding rain storm in Houston. Threw coins at the toll booth exact change thingie and missed. Had to open my door in the windy storm to pick up the coins and re-throw them. My hair just about blew off my head. I felt very annoyed and out of control. We were five minutes late to the funeral, just in time to see Gene's body before the service started. Seven people arrived after us. Four of which were Sonja, Julian, Pat, and Delois. I was glad to see them. Denalda was appreciative of our attending. The preacher read what various members of the family wrote about Gene. A cell phone rang as Denalda's words were read.

Cooked meat loaf and mashed potatoes tonight. It wasn't very good. Nathan is engaged to Jessica. They are coming over this weekend to do Christmas early. I have a fear she will break his heart, again, but he is absolutely crazy about her.

A bit melancholy. The husband is distant. He shows the dog and cat more affection than he shows me. I swept the floors today and mopped one of them.

I think I will boycott funerals for a while.

Aunt Alma

Alma Beatrice Jones Griffin (married my Uncle Chester) passed away on Pearl Harbor Day, December 7, 2005. She was 99 years old. Barry and I went to the visitation last night at Emken-Linton Funeral Home. The flowers were absolutely beautiful. I saw some from Aunt Irene's children and Aunt Lucille's children, but none from JD's children (me) and none from Uncle LeeRoy's children. Buddy was LeeRoy's representative at most or all of the Griffin funerals, but he passed away late last year or early this year. I don't know if they were even told about this death. I don't think they are on Timmy's bulk email list.

Alma's casket was made of beautiful medium brown wood and it was covered with a spray of pink roses. She was dressed in an elegant pink suit with a pink silk blouse underneath. She didn't look a day over 70. There was a blown up surgical glove with the words, "Hi Grandma" written in black marker in her casket near her left hand; probably placed there by her grandson, John (the one we bought the temperpedic mattress from).

I met and thoroughly enjoyed 94 year old Thelma Dyess, a name I grew up hearing; a close family friend who arrived in Texas City the same year the Griffins did, 1911. Lee Hancock, one of our claim's to fame, was represented by his Aunt Sara Hancock Warren. She was a dramatic delight with her tales of living with Aunt Irene for one year when she was a teenager and of course her tales of Hollywood. As she was walking off I said, "My name is Sarah, too." She said, "How do spell it?" I said, "With an H." She said, with great drama,"Oh, you've got it all wrong!"
Mike and Pat and their spouses and children were all there as well as prominent business people, such as the Hammonds and the Acrees.

Earlier in the day, Barry and I took some Taco soup to Mike's house and visited with Mike and his son John, briefly. John was happy to receive the soup. He said his wife makes it, too. At the visitation Delois (Pat's wife) complimented the soup. She said she was going to eat some more later. Joan (Mike's wife) said the soup was almost gone. Joan and Mike invited Barry and me to their house for lunch today to help eat all the food that people are bringing to them. Everyone is invited to eat at the church after the funeral.

Ricky is driving in from Fort Worth today. Ronnie requested a ride with us to the funeral. I suspect we will all ride in Ricky's Mercury Marquis. The burial will be at Grace Memorial Park in Hitchcock where Mom and Dad are buried.

Truly Sleepy

I feel wierd. Not normal. I want to retreat into the spare room upstairs with my music. Unplug the telephone, turn off the cell, turn the music up real loud so as not to hear anybody trying to get my attention. Maybe the world won't fall on its ass.

Garage Sales are Like Organ Donations

Garage sales are like organ donations. I am thoroughly enjoying a CD I bought from a dead man’s estate sale. A man who lived across the street from Mom for years and from me for two whom I never had the pleasure of meeting, but shared a kindred like of music. Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, Jackson Brown, The Byrds, and even Frank Zappa (don’t you eat that yellow snow). And now many many years after my dad’s death, I realize why he liked Bob Dylan. “Close your eyes, close the door, you don’t have to worry anymore, I’ll be your baby tonight.” A very nice two step beat I can picture him dancing to. Lay Lady Lay, Lay Across my Big Brass Bed... why wait any longer for the one you love when he is standing in front of you.... Letters expose his love for a Lady that was not in love with him...

I’m proud to be from my mom and dad. My dad was a short man. A dreamer. A lover. A writer. My mom was a poet. A perfectionist. A sociologist. A very good analyst of the human spirit who could not “get through” at the end.

It wasn’t so long ago that this room I am currently in was my teenage bedroom. The music currently playing is bringing life back into it. A new organ giving life to a dead memory. Is a memory something we have or something we’ve lost? My children are adults now. When I was living in this room as a teenager, I was deciding whether or not to date their father. As crazy as their father is/was, I am glad I married him and gave birth to my two wonderful boys. They inherited his good points, boldness and work ethic.

If I had wings and I could fly, I know where I would go, but right now I will sit here on this bank of sand and watch the river flow.... Bob Dylan

Happy sounds of children’s voices are outside my window. Me. Yesterday. Don’t think twice, it’s alright.

Thank You Sun

I enjoyed a beautiful sunrise this morning on my way to work. Driving East up 13th Avenue to Bay Street, there it was, a big red/orange ball of sun, only almost too bright to look at. I smiled and immediately felt happy. I turned right on Bay St. and noticed a young woman crossed the street with her camera and was poised to take a picture of the magnificent sight. A little further on I saw a pack of happy dogs crossing the street. They jumped up on the seawall and looked as though they too glanced at the sun before jumping over the other side. To my right I noticed a stray dog franticly sniffing where the pack had been. I watched for him in my rear-view mirror. He crossed the street too and jumped over the seawall, but he didn't look at the sun first. He had more important things to attend to.

I turned on my CD player and cranked up "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles.

Nostalgia

Yesterday I read letters from my mother, my Aunt RubyLee, and my Uncle Bunyan to their mother, Zepha Lee Peters, my grandmother, also known as Ma-Moo. The letters were hand written in pencil in the 1930's from Austin when their mother was in Arkansas having surgery of some sort. Their father, Henry Elmore Peters, was somewhere else for an unkown reason. I've read these letters before, but reading them again was just as fun as the first time. And of course now I'm thinking about their youth versus my youth. I can't help feeling a bit envious of their adolescence, even though I've heard Mother speak of the saddness and abuse that existed in her childhood. As young people, they were free to ride bikes to Barton Creek and cook on an open fire. They ran with a crowd most everywhere they went. They were three teenages living alone: cooking, cleaning, and working outside the home. Church was the center of their social life (no T.V.) and they were very active members. Contrary to that is my childhood and adolescence. My childhood was filled with happiness and adventure, but my adolescence was a big zero: drugs, cigarettes, boys and the local church. What a waste. I am glad Mother saved these letters. I almost feel as though I've traveled back in time. I can see RubyLee kidding Mother about her new boyfriend, Raymond, and mother throwing a bisquit at her. A bisquit that was hard and put a bruise on R.L.'s arm. A fact that R.L. laughs about in her letter, because she was the cook that made the hard bisquits. It all goes back to a sense of place. I choose them as my place and forgo my place. I am beginning to get very scattered thoughts and I'm not in the mood to line them out for print. I'll write again later....

People Who Called....

I am loved.

I was so touched by the people who called to offer their homes and to check on us while we were stuck in traffic.

Aunt Evadene wins the prize for the most calls. She snagged her apartment guest house for us and offered to pay half of the $60 a day charge because she felt bad for not having a guest bedroom. She began calling on Tuesday and continued calling through Thursday. Her daughter, Pam, began calling on Friday when we started to not answer E's calls. I'd rather E then P anyday.

Rick and Julie made a few calls and offered their vacant front (recently remodeled) bedroom. Richard and Duncan called once.

Amy called a few times. She was very kind and assured us the dogs would be fine. She said she has a pin that Keith could easily put together and also a garage. She called again to say we can come as early as we feel we need to.

Nathan and Jacob run a close second to E. At one point while stuck on I10-East, having just found out that the hurricane was heading East, Jacob called. He started laughing at us and said, "Mom, something is wrong with this picture." I started to cry and handed the phone to Barry.
Nathan was in the process of preparing to house friends and relatives (Roxanne and Trey came for awhile). One of his calls came when I was feeling my worst, nauseated with a pounding headache. I felt his and Jacob's concern (even though J was laughing) at our predicament.

Even Floyd called twice. First to say, "It's a Category 5, get your butts out of there;" and second to offer his place as refuge.

Little Ronnie (Raun) called a few times. He was feeling a little stress about what he should do with Kyle. They ended up staying put in Houston and did just fine.

Alice called and said to come on up to Arkansas and make a visit out of it. A lot of people actually ended up in Arkansas (not because she called :). She made a few more calls while we were stuck in traffic and said she was praying for us.

Barry's friend Tony Gale called and offered us a spot in his brand new mansion near West, Texas. His second home is full of New Orleans family and friends displaced from Katrina.

Barry's son, Todd, offered his place near Austin, but we heard I-10 West was closed and the traffic heading that way was too much.

Barry's Louisiana family called, too. His sister, Bobbie Jo, offered her place. She didn't know at the time that her two daughters would end up there after their electricity failed.

It was Barry's brother, Put, and his wife Liz who were our choice of family members to stay with. We pretty much told them we were coming to them. We feel comfortable there partly because our dogs are truly not a bother, but mainly because Liz cooks that wonderful Louisiana food. Yup, it was selfish motivation. They happened to be dog-sitting their daughter's dog and they have one of their own. It was comical. I took the dogs walking alot. Liz cooked and we all gained weight. Even Sammy got bloated. And I thoroughly enjoyed the high winds we received from Hurricane Rita.

September 2005 Exodus

I was one of millions stuck on the road during the mass exodus of southeast Texas. It was a learning experience. I learned how dependent we are on each other for food, water, gas, bathroom facilites, and healthcare. More than 30 people from Galveston County died while sitting in traffic. I came close to being one of the casualties. After walking the dogs in the 100 degree heat, I overheated. My head pounded with every heart beat and my stomach was nauseated. I used mind control to prevent myself from throwing up and having diarirra, cha cha cha. I studied the bushes next to us to see if I could sufficently hide behind them if need be.

We did not plan for a 20 hour trip, so all we had to eat was a bag of cookies, four bananas and water to drink. We had beer but I knew better than to drink it because I'd have to pee more than usual.

Sammy, the pug dog, almost died of heat exhaustion. He was panting excessively and began to choke. We put a 2 liter frozen bottle of water under his belly and turned on the a/c. He fell asleep soon and slept for a long time. He did not respond to touch and we were afraid he might have died, but he was just exhausted and recovering. The other dog, Rue, rode in the back of the truck. We walked her every three hours and gave her water. She did o.k., but she was in a panic at one point, jumping on me and licking my legs. It was sad.

Barry was rubbing his chest and making a painful face. I thought to myself, "please don't have a heart attack NOW!"

More later....

Waves and Korn

Monday was a beautiful day in Galveston. I took Seawall Blvd to get to work due to traffic congestion along my regular routes, and the beauty of the six foot waves took my breath away. I can't remember Galveston waves ever being so perfect. The north wind took out the normal chop of storm waves leaving perfect swells that became perfect waves. Old white dudes with big bellies and big boards were enjoying the once in a blue moon waves. I called L.R. and told him. He was surfing before 11:00 a.m. I called B.Ron. He never made it; he had a flat tire. I called Barry to meet me for lunch on the seawall. He picked me up at 11:30. We drove through Wendy's and parked on the seawall right in front of L.R.'s truck. We watched him surf through our binoculars. I got the urge to skip work.

Far from my mind was the devastation that was happening at that every moment elsewhere. The very cause of the beautiful waves was killing people up the coast. Now it's all over the news media. It's the first thing I hear and see in the mornings, read at noon, and see at night. Tonight people looking for their lost relatives, people wanting to barbeque for the refugees, and people with big trucks full of stuff to donate were being turned away from the Astrodome in tears. Only the people being brought in by buses were allowed nearby. Maybe that is why I cannot sleep right now. My mind won't stop thinking about all those displaced people and their sorrow and hardship.

My mind is also racing with Korn music. I've been driving to and fro work in my new Toyota Matrix (with a CD player) listening to Korn's Greatist Hits REAL loud. I laugh and wonder how many other middle-aged females listen to Korn. Old people are angry, too! Now I can't get their music out of my head. I will not be listening to them tomorrow.

The Heart of a Terrorist?

I had to erase it all for fear of arrest.

August Events

Yesterday was my dad's birthday. I don't know how old he would be if he were alive. He was born in 1907. 2005 minus 1907 equals 3912 on my calculator. I just threw it in the trash. I just got it back out of the trash. He would be 98. Marilyn Monroe died on his birthday. I don't like her. I think she was a ho singing Happy Birthday Mr. President on National TV. She was fluanting making love to him, a married man. Screw that.

We dropped the bombs on Japan today, 60 years ago, August 6. More than 70,000 dead in an instant and more than 70,000 more dead from radiation in the following years.

Elvis died this month. His one death gets more attention than their 140,000.

Why can a woman forgive a man easier than a man can forgive a woman? Perhaps it is biological.

Why do I like puppies so much and my sister doesn't?

Why can't I get the upstairs bath tub clean?

The other day on my way home from work, cutting through the projects, a young black woman crossing the street in front of my truck gave me a look that if looks could kill I would be dead in an instant. Her look was some kind of catalyst. I immediately felt misunderstood and unjustly hated. I tried calling son 1 to vent and no answer. Waited awhile and called son 2. Before I dialed I reached to turn off the radio and instead I turned off the air conditioner. This very act was another catalyst. Now I'm old and have alzhiemers. The tears began to flow uncontrollably. I calmed down and called son 2. As soon as he answered I began to vent and scream that I am innocent; I am not guilty! Don't hate me because I own a vehicle and have a job. He was a little therapist. He let me get it all out. And then he called me later to check on me. He is so cute.

I write this episode off to PMS without medication.

Ron just stopped by for supper. We had beef stew with corn bread. We ate in front of the TV. That high school reunion movie was on with Gweneth Paltrow. We enjoyed a good laugh and he left.

Not Sleepy in Texas City

Can't sleep. I feel disconnected and/or scattered.

Sammy and Tux just both headed under the plastic lawn chair that sits in the kitchen. That was funny.

I feel impending doom. Death is in the air.

The other night I dreamed I got hit by a car and wounded as I ran from a woman with an ax who was going to catch me sooner or later and wack me to death.

My hair is falling out. My feet hurt. My left eye is swollen.

I don't know why I exist anymore. Once upon a time I thought I knew. Now it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

I am going to start taking my mood boost pills again.

A Night Out with the Races

This is Cultural Diversity Awareness week where I work, and there are a lot of activities planned to make us aware of each other's cultures. Yesterday Barry met me after work and we went to a see a film and be a part of a panel discussion of The Color of Fear. The film is about the "state of race relations in America as seen through the eyes of eight North American men of Asian, European, Latino and African descent." It was very emotional and dramatic. I enjoyed it even though it mainly centered around the black/white tension. The snacks were good, too. We sat by a young black doctor from Louisiana who had a lot to share. (Thoughts, not food) A very animated Italian sat nearby who admitted to everyone that he looked like a big white thumb and was ignorant of the fact that he was invited to hunt and fish with the white business men because he was white, but he wasn't sorry for it. A very old white bald lady (doctor) shared her experience and made everyone laugh when she said she started here when the Dinosaurs were still roaming the campus. She became a doctor because of white parental encouragement.

After we enjoyed listening to people of different nationalities give their opinions, I talked B into attending the next presentation. He was very reluctant, but we headed to the North auditorium and got in line to enter. After straining to understand his broken English, we got to chant with the Dalai Lama's Chant Master! ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. It was awesome. Man can he chant. The audience wasn't too bad either.

After it was over, we walked through a bad neighborhood to our vehicles with renewed resolve and drove home in the dark. That sounds poetic. Barry drove way too slow and I drove too fast. He missed his exit. I beat him home and worried about him the whole time.

Friday we will enjoy a free lunch while looking at various motorcyles on show. I guess they represent the biker culture.

June is Gone Forever

I realized earlier in the week that I didn't post in June. In June the family gathered for our annual reunion. It was a small group, and much more enjoyable than usual. There was some talk about doing the next one at Sonia's house on the lake with just the 1st cousins. Aunt Irene looked great for 96 or so although very petite. I got stuck with the two big bags of stuff for another year. I resent that.

Yesterday I bought Korn's Greatest Hits CD. I love it. I think I may have shocked the husband when I came out of the mall, jumped in the truck, ripped open the package with my teeth, stuck it in to play, turned it up reasonably loud and 'Word Up' came on, Korn style. It sounded so good. And of course I had to skip to track three. I wished I was with someone of my own caliber for awhile. Someone to headbang with. I felt a bit restrained.

Tonight the husband invited me to Outback for dinner. Maybe Korn had an effect on him? We ate in comfortable silence. The steak was good. The bread and butter superb. On the way home I mentioned Korn and asked him if he was offended last night by the music. He said he was a bit shocked and wondered how my mom would react to that music. Then he imagined his sister, the devout Catholic, listening to it. We laughed, but I still have a funny feeling inside. It is the first time that I ever stopped to think that I may offend my husband with my actions. hum...

It's also been two weeks or more since I ran out of anti-depressant herbs. I've been doing o.k., I think. Maybe this wondering about my actions is related to no drugs. Come to think about it, that Kangaroo in the picture at Outback kept staring at me.

We drove through the old neighborhood in League City on our way home and talked with Doug, our neighbor. He filled us in on the goings on. Our big tree has been cut down, the eve on the house is rotting, and the house next door sold for $135,000. B almost s.

Before we drove through the neighborhood, we parked and walked past the old classic cars gathered on Main Street. We saw a Porche (Toy Jet), a Hot Rod Lincoln, a Camero SS, and many more cool cars that were loud as they pulled in.

Work has been uneventful.

B has the yard and house looking very nice and neat.

We watched fireworks at the school yard with Raun, Ron, and Tiffany. Kyle went to be with his Mom and Josh was a whinney baby so Judy took him home. We saw three large sharks and a stringray on the dike.

We went to Turkey Creek, Louisiana and met Put and Liz at Jill's new vacant house. Put and B mowed the big lawn front and back, then it rained real hard. A big tree fell on three mobil homes down the road and demolished them. No one was home at the time. We slept on a blow-up mattress. Put slept on a lawn lounge chair, very uncomfortable. Liz brought a twin bed and Put set it up for her, she slept like a baby.

I've rambled enough. We'll see what July brings.

Cool Water Dry Sand

Today during my lunch hour, I drove to the local taco joint, picked up my favorite double-decker supreme and headed for the beach. I pulled into the parking space behind the car I was following. She jumped out of her car, dressed in nurse blues already rolled up her chunky calves. With camera in hand, she hopped down the stairs and walked to the water where she proceeded to put her feet and take pictures of them. This didn’t last long; she left just as quickly as she arrived. I took her lead. After I finished my double-decker, I rolled up my red pants over my chunky calves, took off my sandals and walked up and down the coastline. I saw a one-legged seagull. A young woman passed me by, obviously exercising. She passed me again walking backwards. It was comical; I was glad she was there. A surfer watched us from his van as he was preparing to come down with his board. The surf was up. I pulled my hair up into my banana clip, but the wind had its way with it. I walked back up to my truck and sat in the passenger side with the door open as I talked with my sister on my cell phone. Thank goodness for cell phones and their ability to instantly connect to people I love who love me back.

Second Wife Blues

After some analyzing, I’ve come to the conclusion that I am not over reacting when I go into depression or a bad mood when my authenticity as a wife is demeaned. For instance, the financial office representative calls me on my cell phone to let me know that because I’m not 100 % beneficiary, my signature is required on the form that transfers the money from one investment to another.

It’s not the fact that I’m not 100% beneficiary that bothers me. I don’t blame him for wanting to leave his money to his children. I’d do the same. It’s the fact that I am number two. Yup, in other words, poopoo. If I were number one, I’d be 100% beneficiary and the children would inherit the money after my death. Does this mean that I am not trusted as number two? Maybe. The point is, this is not even a consideration if you’re the first wife, so why is it if you’re the second?

State Laws and Financial representatives show more interest in my financial well-being than my husband shows. This is not to say that his interest in my financial well-being is lacking. On the contrary, he has provided well for me. But it’s true none-the-less.

Something else that gets my goat as a second wife is dealing with the Time Share people. After being on hold for literally 30 minutes, I am told they cannot talk to me because my name is not on the deed. Talk about irate. Robots without hearts are what they are. I couldn’t care less if a bomb dropped on them. So what if I stand to inherit the damn Time Share, I’m not allowed to talk to the stupid asses on the phone. Never mind inheriting it, I’m his wife and he has given phone consent for me to make arrangements, but still, this is not enough. I don’t even want the damn thing. I’m kind of glad I can’t talk to them. He has to do all the dealings with them, and he doesn’t seem to mind, perhaps because it keeps the time share SAFE from the second wife?

And finally, my husband says I think having both of our names put on important things is the answer to everything. He said this statement after I said if both of our names were on a safe deposit box it would not be sealed upon either of our deaths. Well, having our names together on paper certainly isn’t the answer to everything. And his comment is just one more thing about being a second wife that sent me into depression. He obviously holds a bitterness regarding past mergers.

My name must stand alone, as I.

April Ribbons

A large black ribbon, drapped in front of the Catholic church front door, evoked from me a sense of awe, a profound and humble reverence.

A tiny red ribbon, shaped into a tiny bow to wear on my lapel during Scott's memorial, provided for me a kind of catharsis by giving my sadness expression.

A large white and gold ribbon, drapped in front of the Catholic church front door, conjured up in me a deep-seated happiness, life goes on.

A Couple of Beers/Random Thoughts

Rick said he thought about setting Jacob up with the DSL chick that set up his computer, but he didn't.
One day you're 16, brown, bikini clad, cute as hell, and the next day your 47, white as paper, elastic clad, almost ugly as hell.
WWII. If Dad didn't make it out alive, I wouldn't be here. How many are not here today because of that war?
Led Zepplin reminds me of mean Irene. I don't know how to spell Led Zepplin.
I used to have a Led Zepplin thing hanging from my ceiling when I was pretty.
Nothing hangs from my ceiling now but dust. I still like Rock n Roll.
Beach Party Weekend sucks for the Galveston locals.
He runs. He hides. He manages.
I run. I hide. I manage.
Why worry about losing 20 lbs when tomorrow we die? Enjoy life today.
I miss Scott. I feel sorry for Nathan.
I want to go out tonight.
A high school marching band sucks in Silver City.
I wonder which son of mine was just at the country club at the Village. Nevermind, I just figured it out. J. His cell phone is behind the bar.
Do people do things during the day on purpose so that they can blog about it? J thinks so. I don't.
Time to cook.

Scott

Nathan's best friend in the whole world died tragically Wednesday, April 6, durning the early morning. He was hit by a car traveling on I45 South bound as he walked. We found out on Friday that the victim was Scott. He had been missing since Tuesday. The particulars are unknown. We all loved Scott. He called me Mom. He loved Nathan. Nathan is feeling a pain right now that we all hope never to feel.

Jacob came down in support of Nathan. Friday evening Nathan came over with Roxanne, Trey, and Jessica in tow. They all came in the back door. It was nice to see them all. We all hugged and sat in the living room to visit. The conversation quickly turned comical with reminising of past experiences. It was decided that we were all going to go play pool. We went to the pool hall that Scott and Nathan frequently visited. We all had a good time. I had to hide in the bathroom once when overcome with emotion, feeling the absence of Scott. Jacob showed off his fooseball playing abilities. We all went to the favorite bar after we left the pool hall and enjoyed a live band. Nathan soon was overwelmed with emotion. He left our table. I went to look for him after five minutes and found him outside in the thralls of extreme emotional pain. I sat down next to him and held him as he wept.

I heard from him last night. He called from a tatoo parlor. He and a bunch of friends as well as one of Scott's sisters were getting tatoos in memory of Scott. He sounded happy. The friends all got a little mushroom tatoo. Nathan and Scott had matching mushroom tatoos. Nathan got geckos with RIP/Scott's name and the dates. Scott loved geckos.

Thursday at lunch time Nathan called me before he knew of Scott's fate to let me know Scott was missing. I told him of a tragic accident on 59 where a man was killed while crossing it, and we hoped that wasn't Scott. Then when we heard about Scott, I assumed that was him, but it wasn't. It turns out two separate incidents of the same nature occurred on the same night on different highways. Friday Nathan called me at work after he and Scott's wife viewed the body and I couldn't understand a word he said, but I'll never forget the sound of pain in his voice.

Barry, Jacob, and I took a hamburger stew, cornbread, and german chocolate cake to Scott's parents house. We visited with them for an hour and a half. Barry and Scott's dad had a spirited conversation about work related things. I enjoyed visiting with Scott's mom, she is easy to talk with. We got to see a video of Nathan's little dog Marilyn meeting Scott's 100 lb pit bull. She growled at him and nipped at his nose. She was littlier than his face. It was so cute. All the smokers hung out in the garage where three couches and a chair surround a square table full of ash trays and misc. stuff. It was the beloved hang-out.

Scott will be sorely missed by all who knew him. Although he was over six foot tall, he was a gentle soul with a soft voice. His body was cremated on Friday and there will be a memorial next sunday.

Cylinders Galore

It's been fun catching up on my favorite blog, Bekah! eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

My new job is all about cylinders, mainly Nitrogen and Carbon Dioxide, over 2000 of them. I am supposed to keep track of them and make sure we are charging the customers correctly. It is very confusing, but with each day it gets easier. The people are nice enough, and being a couple of minutes from the beach is the greatest. At lunch time, I sometimes drive to the end of the seawall and watch the ships pass by on their way to houston through TC. I can see TC from there. The weather last monday was gorgeous! The fact that a biochemical lab is right down the street from where I work gives me a bit of a strange feeling. The only good thing about that is, if I die from something related to that lab's existence, my decendants will be able to tell a good story about their grandma's death. The stories are pretty scary I hear around here about the possiblities of quarintening the island and shooting anything in the water should an outbreak occur.

Rick and his boys came for a short visit this past weekend through Tuesday. We went to see the movie about Robots. I didn't care for it, but the boys liked it.

Today is cold and moist. Monday was hot and dry. We bar-b-qued on sunday. Ronnie and family came over. We all played cards and passed a good time, as Barry would say. We took long walks with our dogs and we went to an estate sale down the street.

This coming Sunday is the 1st B Church's 100th anniversary celebration. Most of the Griffin's will be going. I wish I could go, but we are going to Austin to provide a crawfish boil at B's son's house. Maybe we can drive out to Dripping Springs and check out some land for sale.

Blog at cha later.

A Pole and a Line

Any fish bites if you got good bait.

It's been a long time since I last wrote. A new baby has been added to the family! Little Melody Raine. I got to see her last week and I am in love. I loved squeezing her and watching her smile.

I've enjoyed a small break from the work world. I enjoyed a short sprint at nasa working where the astronauts train in the shuttle and space station mock-ups. I got to meet the next two men to live on the space station and the next shuttle crew. I feel very priviledged to have done that. Now I am on to a permanant job at UTMB in Galveston. B and I went over there today for me to fill out the paper work. I start next Monday. Barry joked with the lady in charge of assigning parking spaces. He told her he was going to trip the next person in line to get a parking space so that his wife could get a space. She thoroughly enjoyed his humor, and low and behold I got a parking space. My friend who works there said it took her 7 months to get a space. :)

After we left UTMB, we went to a mattress store and bought a cheap mattress for a guest bed. The bed is wonderful, but the box springs stinks like cheap new stuff. After unloading the new bed, we took all three animals to the vet for their annual shots. That was a chore. I saw a childhood acquaintance in the waiting room. I didn't acknowledge her. She probably wouldn't remember the time she held a girl and told me to hit the girl at the softball field at night. I refused. She had paint all over her and she walked like a man. My best childhood friend is gay and mentioned that this person tried to hit on her. So what. I didn't feel like rekindling anything. Maybe the chemical plants here make gay people. I heard that chemicals are making male frogs female and vise versa.

Been thinking about Mom today and this house. I am ready to make it mine. I want to buy a big Mediterrainean picture to replace the big flower picture that my brothers' exwife's mother's mom painted. No one wants it. I made every effort to make sure they knew it was here and available to them. I like it well enough, but I'm ready for a change. I'll put it in the attic or something.

Well, the stew is sticking to the pan, the rolls are burning, and my cell phone is ringing.

More later.

Prehypertensive/Sad Memory Lane

Good Grief. I had a headache all day. Went to get my thyroid medicine and while I was there, Barry suggested I take my blood pressure. It was prehypertensive. I wonder if that is why I had a headache. I do not want to start high blood pressure medicine. I considered my options: have a stroke or start eating better and exercising.

Nathan came for a short visit as he was in town returning Trey to his rightful owner. He made me laugh with his telling of the New Year's Eve party he attended in Alvin. The boy has storytelling talent. Then, as if out of the blue, he began telling me a a couple of stories about happenings in his childhood. These stories brought tears to my eyes. They had everything to do with his father's abuse. I was devastated. I told him I should have left his father long before I actually did. He attempted to comfort me by saying it would have happened anyway. Him comforting me, go figure. I cannot believe he is living with his father now. I think I would have killed my father if he had done that to me. Nathan said he suprised himself when he remembered one of the stories. He said he must have blocked it out of his mind. I am still in shock, and my chest hurts when I think of him as a little boy, suffering so. Jacob suffered, too. What a frickin bastard, his father. I don't care anymore about all the suffering Nathan caused me as he was growing up. I deserved it.

It snowed on Christmas day. J and N along with all the little kids on the block (including Josh, Tiff, and Klye) built a big snow man and had lots of fun. K,L, and T came in for a short visit from Austin. We had my friend and her man-friend over for dinner along with Ronnie and his family. We all enjoyed talking at the table and eating too much. And we all received nice Christmas gifts. I got a new driveway, a new dearborne heater, a cookie sheet, a pizza cutter, an ice cream scooper, and two wonderful cows:Cowtus-a green cow with cactus spurs, and Tutancowmon-an Egyptian lookin cow. They are so cool. K drew a portriat of a Nat. Geo. picture of an old black man, had it framed, and presented it to Barry. It sits on the mantle now. It is a fantastic drawing. I love it. I want him to draw Barry now.

I've babbled enough. Time to rest. I'm tired. I am currently working with a bunch of monkeys, not literally, and they wear me out with their lack of character.