SNOW...YUCK

It's snowing like crazy out there tonight.
We might get a foot before it's over. If I
were a kid, I'd be bummed out that it happened
on school vacation week instead of getting
a snow day off from school.
As an adult,I'm bummed because I'll have to
shovel out the car and go to work.

Christmas was nice and Cheryl and the others
spent far too much on me. And I spent far
too little on them.

On the Cams and rp front, it's been quiet for several days now. Some of the Citadel folk
pop in and out to see who's there. On the
writing front, my muse is non existant. I know
what I want to write, but there's no urge to do it.

That's about the size of it, folks.

WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?

Now that the rage has died down, the realization that Camelot will never be the same has set in,
and it saddens me. I will miss BH and Xan's chars
even though their Typists are still around.
I really cared about that place. Still do. I know
I wouldn't feel so badly about all this if I didn't give a damn about the people there. All I can do is
try to carry on and help keep the place alive so we can pass the torch to the next generation of dreamers
when we find some others to go along with Mike/ Elasol.
It appears I might be descended from two knights
from England, William Marshal and William Longsword.
Marshal served Henry II and then Richard Lion Heart.
Longsword was actually a bastard son of Henry II
and likewise served his father and then England
during the bad times when Richard and John Lackland
either were fighting their father or each other.
They persevered and were true to their oaths and
land.
Guess I have some big shoes to try to fill .

ANOTHER FROM STAN ROGERS

Sort of suits my mood tonight.
Buckle your seatbelts, folks. Gonna be a
bumpy ride.


The Mary Ellen Carter

She went down last October in a pouring driving rain.
The skipper, he'd been drinking and the Mate, he felt no pain.
Too close to Three Mile Rock, and she was dealt her mortal blow,
And the Mary Ellen Carter settled low.

There were five of us aboard her when she finally was awash.
We'd worked like hell to save her, all heedless of the cost.
And the groan she gave as she went down, it caused us to proclaim
That the Mary Ellen Carter would rise again.

Well, the owners wrote her off; not a nickel would they spend.
She gave twenty years of service,boys,then met her sorry end.
But insurance paid the loss to them, they let her rest below.
Then they laughed at us and said we had to go.

But we talked of her all winter, some days around the clock,
For she's worth a quarter million, afloat and at the dock.
And with every jar that hit the bar, we swore we would remain
And make the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.

Rise again, rise again, that her name not be lost
To the knowledge of men.
Those who loved her best and were with her till the end
Will make the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.

All spring, now, we've been with her on a barge lent by a friend.
Three dives a day in hard hat suit and twice I've had the bends.
Thank God it's only sixty feet and the currents here are slow
Or I'd never have the strength to go below.

But we've patched her rents, stopped her vents, dogged hatch and porthole down.
Put cables to her,'fore and aft and birded her around.
Tomorrow noon, we hit the air and then take up the strain.
And watch the Mary Ellen Carter Rise Again.

For we couldn't leave her there, you see, to crumble into scale.
She'd saved our lives so many times,living through the gale
And the laughing, drunken rats who left her to a sorry grave
They won't be laughing in another day. . .

And you, to whom adversity has dealt the final blow
With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go
Turn to, and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain
And like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.

Rise again, rise again - though your heart it be broken
And life about to end
No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend.
Like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.

ANOTHER FAVORITE

I was driving to the laundromat today and the
folk music station was playing an old Stan Roger's
interview. Seems he would have been 55 today if he
hadn't died in that plane fire ten years ago.
Anyway,he's one of my favorite singer/songwriters.
He was a Canadian from Nova Scotia and while most
of his songs dealt with the sea, he also wrote
some damn fine stuff about the old days in Canada.
And man, his voice...

This is my favorite Stan Rogers song.It's even
better if you heard it sung.


Harris and the Mare

"Harris, my old friend, good to see your face again
More welcome, though, yon trap and that old mare
For the wife is in a swoon, and I am all alone
Harris, fetch thy mare and take us home

The wife and I came out for a quiet glass of stout
And a word or two with neighbors in the room
But young Clary, he came in, as drunk and wild as sin
And swore the wife would leave the place with him

But the wife as quick as thought said, "No, I'll bloody not"
Then struck the brute a blow about the head
He raised his ugly paw, and he lashed her on the jaw
And she fell onto the floor like she were dead

Now Harris, well you know, I've never struck an angry blow
Nor would I keep a friend who raised his hand
I was a conscie in the war, cryin' what the hell's this for?
But I had to see his blood to be a man

I grabbed him by his coat, spun him 'round and took his throat
And beat his head upon the parlor door
He dragged out an awful knife, and he roared "I'll have your life"
And he stuck me and I fell onto the floor

Now blood I was from neck to thigh, bloody murder in his eye
As he shouted out "I'll finish you for sure"
But as the knife came down, I lashed out from the ground
And the knife was in his breast and he rolled o'er

Now with the wife as cold as clay I carried her away
No hand was raised to help us through the door
And I've brought her half a mile, but I've had to rest a while
And none of them I'll call a friend no more

For when the knife came down, I was helpless on the ground
No neighbor stayed his hand, I was alone
By God, I was a man, but now I cannot stand
Please, Harris, fetch thy mare, take us home

Oh, Harris, fetch thy mare, and take us out of here
In my nine and fifty years I've never known
That to call myself a man, for my loved one I must stand
Now Harris, fetch thy mare take us home.

Written by Stan Rogers

MY OLD MAN

My Dad died on Thanksgiving Day in 1985. It sort of
put a damper on the holiday for all of us.Worse still,since Thanksgiving Day changes every year, we
are also faced with the actual date of November 22nd.
We avoided having the big T-Day dinner at my sister's for many years because that was where we were all
together for the last time. We'd eat at my brother's
house or at our apartment. One year we ate at a
restaurant at Plymouth.
Then Mom died, and I shuttle back and forth between
Cheryl and Phil on holidays.
It hit me yesterday as I sat talking with Paul.He
has these rods screwed into his leg, holding it
together while he heals. He was only 6 years old
that last day his "Grammpy" was there. Mike was
less than a year old and has no memories of his
grandfather roughhousing with him like his brother
and sister do.
Dad would have been very proud of Paul. As would
my Mom.
19 years. What I wouldn't give for a few more
minutes.
I have forgotten what his voice sounded like.

CAMELOT

Man.
All you folks who enjoy my stories don't know
how hard it is for me to sit here and talk about
a non-fictional matter. It's why I haven't
commented until now, because this has been
something that stirred up some strong emotions
in me.

Camelot has become a second home to me these past seven years. When I really got into the swing of
rp,there were days that I'd be at work in some
slow spot and I'd idly wonder what would be
happening that night in the Hall.
I'd see a book cover with a picture that made me think "Yeah..that's how BH or Corwin or Wenn or Skye..might
look." I'd be shelving a book in history and if
it was on medieval warfare or daily life I'd skim
it at lunch(if I didn't just outright buy it)
for ideas for BT's world. I hunted down midis and wavs for Ian and Skye to dance to, and I surfed
the web looking for any bit of Arthurian
myth I could credibly work into the storylines.

I've met some incredible people in rp whose friendship and respect
I value.

I've built up an image of Camelot in my mind.
I can close my eyes and see the banners hanging
on the walls, the tapestry by Chamberlain's desk
that hides the passage to the old section of the castle. I can tell you that a small sandy beach
is next to that rock by the pond where BT often
goes to think and that there are parts of the
Hook where the buildings are so close to each other that sunlight never reaches the streets and alleys
between them.

And many nights I'd sign off with a laugh at something funny someone had said or done either IC
or OOC.

Things change. That's why we call it Life. I've never lost sight of the factthat there's a real
world out here ..family, life, obligations...and those must always have precedence over a role play game. Being single and home most of the time,I was more than willing and able to devote the time to
the channel that others might want to give but
were unable to because of those real life matters.

Like I said. Things change. The faces and chars in Camelot changed and while some of them have stayed on,those who couldn't accept the channel policies
moved on elsewhere. Lately,there's been new a influx of rps and the return of one or two old timers.
The newer ones don't blatantly disregard the channel policies so much as stretch them. Let's face it..
it's a lot easier to ban a Vortex than someone
who might be playing a totally overpowered char
but who stays within the rules of the channel. I'd hoped that these folks would learn by example.
They didn't. I spoke with them in /msg about it
and nothing changed. They just became more adept at hiding their wonderfulness (to borrow a Cosby term) or hinting at it.

And then we have those oldtimers..ok..make it oldtimer. We all know who I'm talking about.

KM breezes into channel(and I've wondered about
his timing, after BT rode off to the borders) and goes into the old "Things were much more fun in the good old days"song and dance. And the newer rps,
who were tired of BT talking at them lapped it up. Even after what was said by Xan and Skye afterwards, they still are lapping it up.

As recently as last night, one of them was speaking fondly of the whole incident.

In other years, I would wait them out or point
out that the Golden Age of Camelot wasn't all that Golden(yes it was fun, no, it was not good rp)and eventually when the oldtimer found that tales of Lancelot weren't exciting everyone all that much, they left.


This time, I have to confess,it hurt.
And it pissed me off.
Royally.

It wasn't anyone person in particular.
It was the whole thing. It was the very antithesis
of what I think Camelot should be.

And it forced me to look at what Camelot had become for me the last few years. BT was
the daddy yelling at all the little kids. He's
the person who tells you how to behave, so then
you resent him or you ask other authority figures their opinion until you find the one who
agrees with your viewpoint, so you can tell BT
"that so and so doesn't think it needs to be done this way" And he was the one who was expected
to react supportively when rps put their chars into dire situation after dire situation but who instead wanted to know why they got themselves into such foolish predicaments.
And yeah, those /msgs about IC or OOC complaints and peeople who seemed to stick to Bt's arse like
a remorah stuck to a shark.

So, when KM did his happy dance that night, that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

I might point out that Robyn's going along with it..and Maick..a 14 year old, if I remember
correctly, who drank himself drunk.. had the very real option of just saying no. It's not Jer's fault that they chose to go along with KM's scenario.
They could have have declined with legitmate
reasons and kept their chars' integrity.

They chose to say yes..

And that's the difference between the people I enjoyed rp'ng with and this crop. They'd
sacrifice the integrity of their character to the easy rp. They add on new powers,dream up new perils or attackers just for something to do,and they
become cartoons. Or that's how I see some
of them now.

It's been coming for awhile. It's why BT would shut himself in his office rather than sit
in the hall where the other chars would hesitate
to talk about their days adventures knowing how BT might react, since he would react as any knight or commander should react.

There's other matters, but that's the main thing. BH and Xan know the main reason BT resigned
but it won't be mentioned in channel unless it's rp'd out and that frankly would only be if he's
left no choice.

As far as rp goes, BT will be scarce for a bit. I'm in no mood to deal with in char demanding
for explanations from certain parties that might lead to another unpleasant display of my temper.

I don't think most of the present rps will much care if he stays away. Which is ok..I've
been a store manager and I know that any leader who is in it to be popular isn't doing the
job he should be doing. And I blame myself for several mistakes that have led to the
whole present scene.

So I'll be around Camelot but not as much.

And I can still see it in my mind.

John Barnes

One of my proud Plimouth Plantation forebears :

"John Barnes's death was recorded on 5 March 1671/1672, and the jury appointed to inquire into the cause of death gave the following verdict:

Wee, whose names are underwritten, being summond together by order from the Gou to view the corpes of Mr. John Barnes, and to give in a verdict how wee judge hee came by his death, doe judge, that being before his barne door in the street, standing stroakeing or feeling of his bull, the said bull suddenly turned about upon him and gave him a great wound with his horne on his right thigh, neare eight inches longe, in which his flesh was torne both broad and deep, as wee judge; of which wound, together with his wrinch of his necke or paine thereof, (of which hee complained) hee immediately languished; after about 32 hours after hee died. Unto the truth wherof we have subscribed our hands.-Plymouth Co. Records"

It should be noted that one of the jury was another of my ancestors, Samuel Dunham. No doubt John's bad
end was used as a warning to rowdy children for some
time in the family.

FIRST SNOWFALL

Not a big one(I think) but enough that I had to
clean snow off the car after work.

I debated stopping to do some food shopping
and decided to opt for the one lonely frozen
pizza waiting to be nuked at home instead.

Snowfall has weird effect on me. I end up
feeling drowsy and I slept a good part of the
night in the living room chair. Woke up about
15 mins. ago or so and thought I'd do this first
since been a few days since last update.

As far as winter goes, Joni Mitchell wrote about
it and I always hear Tom Rush singing it in my
head when I read the words:


And the warriors of winter gave a cold triumphant shout
All that stays is dying and all that lives is getting out
You see the geese in chevron flight a flapping and a racing on before the snow
They've got the urge for going and they've got the wings to go


I'll pile the fire with kindlin' and pull the blankets to my chin
I'll lock the vagrant winter out and bolt my wanderin' in
I'd like to call back summertime and let her stay for just another month or so
But she's got the urge for goin, and I'll have to let her go

-The Urge for Going

SEVEN YEAR ITCH

Maybe its time I scratched it, got over it, and
just moved on.

FINAL ELECTION THOUGHTS

I don't understand this country anymore. Neither
does my sister and her husband. We watched the
report the other night on "60 Minutes" about how
soldiers in Iraq are modifying unarmored Humvees
with plywood, sand, and metal plates scrounged
off the abandoned tanks of Sadam's army to make what they call "rolling coffins" and we couldn't believe that the man who put Paul and other kids in such harms way would be re-elected.

Show's how much we knew, eh?

We didn't count on that 40% of America Born Agains
that turned out on "moral issues". I expect the
President will repay their support by pushing for
the anti-gay marriage amendment and appointing
Supreme Court Justices that will reverse Roe vs Wade
and other rulings the religious right deemed
signs of a godless society.

These are the same folks who burn books and music
they deem evil, in many cases, so I wouldn't be
surprised to see a return to the days of Jerry
Falwell's Christian Coalition strong arming
networks, publishers and record companies now that
they have the political clout to back it up.

The American people...well..ok..except for us
here in the Northeast and on the West Coast...
have what they wanted.

God help the rest of us. I think we are in for
rough times ahead.

And that's the last I will write on politics here
for awhile.

As for NaNoWriMo, I churned out 2288 words today.
(On Wed.) That's also 2288 so far.

As for Camelot..I am wrestling with whether it's
time for me to go. Judging by the rp tonight in the hall with Ascellon,KM and others, the answer seems to be yes.

ALL OVER BUT THE SHOUTING

At last...Nov. 2nd and our long national
ordeal is over.

No more attack ads.

No more phone message endorsements.

No more "Special Reports" on election issues.

No more news stories on the campaigns.

I have other things I intend to write about
(like the Red Sox win) but for now, before I
drag my sorry old arse off to bed, I just want
to give a sigh of relief that one way or another,
this election is finally over.

JUST DROPPED IN TO SEE WHAT CONDITION MY CONDITION WAS IN

Another lazy Sunday come and gone.

No trick or treaters again this Halloween, so
the three bags of Sour Balls and Necco Wafers will
be eaten gradually over the next few weeks.

Yeah, I know, lousy candy as far as kids are
concerned but seeing as how I don't get much action
here I buy candy that I like. So there. Pffffffft.

Cams and the Scoobys seem to be cruising along fine
without BT so I may leave him out of the channel for
the month while I once more make a stab at National
Novel Writing Month. 50,000 words by 11/30.If I do
go for it I may write the rest of "The Tower".

Now, as E might say, "To the Beddery!"

PERFECTION

Well, I finally went and vented on R. in channel
and it pretty much went as I had thought it would
when I debated doing it earlier.
Her coterie has rallied round the Robyn and I am
either mysteriously out of sorts or just plain a
meanie depending on who rps a reaction.
I stayed out of channel and off mirc tonight because
I would have vented even more and bitched about it
in QS's ear and didn't feel like subjecting her to
more of it.
So. BT is away for a bit..perhaps to become a NPC
with occasional guest appearances...but for the
next while or so they will have their way in Camelot
and amaze one and all with their power gaming.
Sorry folks.

THE PRICE

http://ledger.southofboston.com/articles/2004/10/23/news/news02.txt

MEANWHILE, BACK AT SEMI-REALITY CENTRAL

(CUSTOMER):"I'd like to return these. (hands me
a pack of tarot cards.)"

(ME):"Ok, ma'am..what's the reason for the return?"

(CUSTOMER): The game's too hard.I can't understand
the rules."

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
Later that same day....(aka today)

CUSTOMER: "I'm looking for a meditation tape."

ME: "Ok. Do you know the author?"

CUSTOMER: "Bella Ruth Knapfen(something)"

ME: "Hmm. How do you spell that?"

CUSTOMER: "I don't know. I just know its
Knapfen(something)"

Sidenote here: the name began with Knapfen. Being
old and possibly blanking out a painful experience,
all I can recall is the Knapfen part.

Twenty minutes of hunting Knapfen(somethings)without
a clue as to spelling later, I was firmly convinced
this woman was not in need of meditation.

Her brain was already overly relaxed.

AND YOUR LITTLE ORC TOTO, TOO

Tame orcs in Camelot?
Nope..don't think so..
I am drawing a line here...
______________________________

See?
Pffffffft!

THIS JUST IN

So I wake up after falling asleep in the parlor
after coming home from work and eating dinner, and
there's a commercial for yet another idiotic reality
hoax type show...in something about "You Won $25 Million!"....complete with Ed Mc Mahon delivering
the bogus check.
I shut off the lamp, stood up, shut off the tv
and muttered:
"What other embarrassing things can they come up
with to make someone look like an idiot?"
Then I turned and walked in the dark for my
bedroom and promptly walked into the closed bedroom door.
Thereby answering my own question.
(sigh)

ANGER

That's what I'm feeling today. It's what I've
felt since Cheryl called me at work to tell me
they'd received word her son Paul had been wounded
in action over in Baghdad.

Details seem to be hard to get. Since we know that
Paul has been a driver for his captain and his
injuries are on the left side of the body,we think
he was one of the four American soldiers wounded
Sunday when a suicide bomber blew up a car next
to an Army motorcade by the Baghdad airport.Of
those wounded, only Paul and his Captain were
hospitalized, and the Captain should be able to
rejoin his men soon.

Paul got shrapnel wounds to the stomach and his
left arm is broken. Both the tibula and fibula of
the left leg are broken as well. The Army originally
told Cheryl that Paul was stable and would be shipped out to Germany shortly,but later today someone else
told her Paul was listed as serious, but not deemed
serious enough to be already evacuated. He should be
in Germany tomorrow though, and if still listed as
serious the Army will fly Cheryl and Pete over there.

That worries me. How serious is serious? Is the
leg worse than just two broken bones, or is it
the stomach wound?

I don't even want to write what I am thinking
about the president who got us into this mess.

I'm too angry.

"OH, BOTHER!" SAID POOH

The Ancestor Name d'Jour (and quite possibly
the Grand Prize winner)...is.....

(drumroll)

Elizabeth Honeypot (b@1336)

I can just hear the Gem Sisters collective
brain mulling over that one...


Bed awaits...

LAST WORD ON SWIFT BOATS

This will be the last post on this subject(unless
another event like I describe below occurs)because
this whole thing sickens me.

Last Saturday we had two customers nearly start
fistfighting over the damn book. In this case,a
Kerry supporter who overheard a Bush person
giving one of our sales clerk a hard time turned
and began loudly using profanity to express his
views on the whole bookstore conspiracy charge.
A third customer came over and demanded the Kerry
backer lower his voice and remember there were
children present even as I was moving forwards to
make the same request. It was an ugly moment and
something I've never had happen in over 15 years
in this business.

Even a week later, as we wait for the damn publisher
to send us more than just 35 books at a pop,we get
accused of hiding books in the back room.

Thank you Regnery Press for a very clever way to
keep the book in the public eye and get it maximum
press exposure.

Thank you Sean Hanritty for making me feel like my profession is suitable for only commie pinko pond
scum.

Thank you Karl Rove for once more showing how
to drag a good man down into the mud with just a
few well chosen surrogates.

And isn't it just oh so coincidental that two of
the vets in the ad are appointees to a VA advisory
committee?

My parents were active in the VFW, my dad a Post
Commander several times (as was my uncle) and my
mom an Auxiliary President several times as well
(again, as my aunt also was). I now brace myself
when I see a VFW hat or jacket on an approaching
customer. Same with vets wearing unit baseball
caps. I anticpate another round of accusations.

And because the company wishes to avoid conflict,
employees are not allowed to discuss politics
among themselves on the sales floor to keep from
offending customers with our support for whichever
candidate we favor.

Rove and friends have done their work well. Double digit lead surge in the polls. And now the President
condemns the ads, because they've done the job and
he can appear to be taking the high road.

No wonder there's such low voter turnout at elections.

I'll still go and vote.

But is there even a point anymore?

End of Rant.

End of Discussion

THIS IS WHAT I MEANT

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/K/KERRY_VIETNAM_RECORDS?SITE=MAQUI&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT

Note the response from Thurlow.Despite the fact
that his medal is based on a recommendation from
someone other than Kerry, a George Lambert, he
now says it was a lie. So is Thurlow's whole
service record a lie? Was it ALL written by
John Kerry? Was Thurlow incapable of writing his
own reports?

Hoffman wrote the group report. He now says it
was a lie. SO..why should we believe he isn't
lying now?

And yet another Bush campaign worker with ties to
the SwiftBoat group.

Just how stupid is America?

Can we just tell this group to go away and get
back to discussing issues?

NOT TOO SWIFT

So..about this "Unfit for Command" book by the
SwiftBoats ForTruthgroup:

I'm sick of it.I'm sick of people coming into our
store and rudely..and yes, I mean rudely, nastily,
uncivily...accusing us of being part of a vast
conspiracy along with B&N to keep the book out of
the hands of Enquirering Minds.

BULLSHIT!

Right, we don't want to make money. We're in the
book business for our own hidden agendas.

I finally realized it was a losing battle after the
exchange I had with a customer this morning:

ME:"But sir, why would we not sell it? Why would we
not want to make more money?"

ANGRY CUSTOMER: (leans forwards with a triumphant
smile) "EXACTLY! Why don't you?"

I gave up. I later gave another customer the email
addy and website for Regnery Press, the numpty
publishers who didn't print enough copies of the
book in the first place.

As for the controversy itself, it makes me sick.
No matter what Kerry says, he's wrong. If he says
nothing, he's weak and ineffective. If he hits back,
he's whiney. If witnesses come forward to back him,
they are immediately attacked as either "honestly
mistaken " or as Kerry shills. Kerry is urged to
release his records. But the reports he's already made available are attacked as "lies."

Someone asked Al Gore's daughter last week if she
has any plans to follow her father and grandfather
and run for office. "More like run away" was her
answer. Looking at this whole mess, I can only urge
her to run away as far and fast as she can.

A few last items on this.

1. It's not just Kerrey's medals that are being
called false here. By extension, it's also every
man on his crew who received citations for those
actions, and even Commander Thurlow, who received
his Bronze Star for the same action Kerry did.And
what of others who won medals? Do we now question
everyone's? When some punkass kid makes some
sarcastic remark about medals meaning nothing and
points to this whole debacle, how can we answer it?


2. Bob Dole must have opened up some old wounds for
Vietnam Vets last week when he poo-poo'd Kerry's 3
Purple Hearts saying he barely bled. It was these
sorts of comments from WW2 vets that belittled the
medals and problems of those who returned from Viet
Nam, and is the reason so many of the Viet vets did
not join the VFW or American Legion when they did
come home.

3.Isn't it funny that the folks calling for
Kerry to produce his records can't seem to find
theirs? And in Thurlow's case, when some are that
support Kerry's story, well, then Kerry must
have been the one to write those reports.

4. Finally, I might be more willing to listen to
this Swift Boat group if it weren't for the fact
that many of the people behind it were also involved
with the smears of Max Cleland and John McCain.
Come on!
A triple amputee and a former POW and they accused them of being UNPATRIOTIC?

It's sick. It's slimey.

It's politics.

Now if you will excuse me, I must now go join my
fellow book selling conspirators. We are burning all
the copies of "UNFIT FOR COMMAND" that we hid away
near all our stores. When the bonfires are seen from
space, the pattern will reveal the answer to the
DaVinci Code while at the same time forming a road
sign to the invading fleet of aliens from John
Kerry's home planet.

Ssssssssh! Don't tell anyone!

It's a conspiracy!

ANOTHER YEAR OLDER IN DEEPER IN..WELL..YOU KNOW..

Well, Friday was my birthday and it came and went
fairly uneventfully. J at work gave me a card and
a cd demo of Celtic Circle. I got a bunch of nice
email from my online friends and Cheryl called me
to wish me a good birthday.No word from Phil but
he's never been good on birthdays anywho.

I bought a marked down half a cake for a $1.75
to celebrate and that lasted a few days. Chocolate
Mint. Yum!

I climbed the fambly tree a bit, found out a few
more fun things that don't mean a damn thing in
real life but are fun to think about.

I got a second installment of UC out. Got to get
more busy with the writing.

Ribs are mostly fine except for an occasional
twinge when I get up in the morning.

And th-th-th-that's all, folks!

HI HO, HI HO, IT'S BACK TO WORK I GO

Lucky me. Ah well, maybe someday I can retire.

Sometime in my 80's.

Worst part of vacation is getting back into the
swing of things at work when you return. And it
was really crazy for a Monday. Rainy days
always up business but rainy Mondays even
more so.

When I drove home after my shift ended at 7pm,
I sat in my car for a few minutes in my parking
lot and nearly fell asleep right there. When I
finally hauled my tired old butt inside it was
7:45. I nuked a dinner, sat down in the parlor,
ate, and then slept in the chair until about
12:30am. I've been sort of vegging out here
at the screen since then, but the bed is looking better and better.

And the bad news is my first day off this week
is not until Friday, instead of the usual one
of Wednesday.

Oh well, I'll get to sleep in late for my birthday
if I want.

ABOUT THAT TIME

Geese flew over the apartment building tonight at
around dusk. Hard to miss it with all the racket
they made as they went over.

Guess it's official. Summer's nearly over.

I'll start humming "Urge for Going" by Tom Rush
any day now.

And vacation is over. Back to work tomorrow.

Yowza.

I had more intelligent comments to post than this
but it took me so damn long to log in, I up and
forgot the suckers.

Ah well. Bedtime soon.

AND I'LL BLOW YER HOUSE DOWN!

Charley seems to have blown himself out before he gets here.We're hunkered down up here waiting on
the rains.
On the other hand.....

My Aunt Emily retired to Florida a few years back
and I haven't really seen or spoken with her since
my Mom's death.I had thought based on what Mom
had said after visiting Emily that she was living over by Orlando and would not get hit badly.

I was wrong.

She lives in Punta Gordo,right behind the Charlotte County Airport,as my sister told me this morning.

But since Emily usually comes north this time of
year to NH we assumed she was up there with her daughter Winnie and out of danger.

Wrong again. She was down in Florida.

Cheryl tracked down Winnie this morning on the
phone and Emily is fine. Apparently Winnie called
her yesterday, told her to load up her car with
as many friends as she could fit in it and get her ass out of there, which Emily thankfully did.

She's at some evacuation center for now, since
they won't let her back to her home as yet,and
her oldest kid,Richie who lives up by Tampa drove down to be with her.

So even that turned out well, considering.
Emily's house was insured.
Things can be replaced.
A life cannot.

And dang..there may be another hurricane headed to Florida.

Heck of a year.

YOU CANNOT SEE THE SHAPE OF THE PILL WHEN YOU ORDER IT

So sayeth the subject line of my lone spam of the day.

It has a sort or reggae lilt to it, don't you think?

"You cannot see de shape of de pill when you order it,
No,No, No!
You cannot see de shape when you pay for it,
No,No, No!
You cannot see de shape when you take it home
NO!
But you see it just before you swallow it!"

THINGS TO DO ON MY VACATION

Shop for food _/
Recycle Bottles _/
Laundry _/
Vacuum _/
Wash Floors _/
Clean Bathroom _/
Find Info on Whites
Write _/
Sleep _/
Write some more


Say..did I mention sleep up there?
Thought so.

ROOTS AND BRANCHES

Still climbing around in the fambly tree and last
night the realization hit me that my mom's parents
most like married in the first place because Nannie..
Grandmom Aggie...was pregnant with my Uncle Ed. They
married in October of 1924 and Eddie was born six
months later in April of 1925.

So perhaps the later breakup should not be so much
a mystery to this generation, but in those days,in
the 1920's Irish Catholic Boston, it must have been
a tough row for Aggie and her kids to hoe.The family
scandal, perhaps?

I was also struck by the fact that in two weeks I'll
be the same age as Nannie was when she died:56. She
was young but her health had been poor due to her
rheumatic heart and living through the divorce, the
Depression and then World War 2. Her ex-husband,
Edward (the bastard) would have been the same age as
she, and Mom had never mentioned hearing if he'd
passed away all those years since. I wonder if he
ever tried to see her or Uncle Ed as they grew up
and got married.Did he worry about his son serving
in the Navy during the War? Did he know anything
about his seven grandchildren and did he ever see
us when we weren't aware of it?

Was he, as I used to think, the person who'd call us on the phone and then never answered when we asked
who was there?

Did he live long enough to learn he had great grandchildren?

How sad if he didn't know any of this.

How much even sadder if he did, and either just
never cared to contact any of us, or was just
to afraid to try.

I know that even though Mom never talked about it
much except for a few bitter sentences now and again, she was terribly hurt by all of it. I wish
I'd been a bit more insistent on discussing it with her when she was alive now, if only because it
might have forced some sort of contact with her
father, even if it was for just some sort of
final confirmation of what they thought of each other.

And now of course, they're all gone: my grandparents, my parents, and Uncle Eddie as well. Aunt Emily
told Cheryl last week that Eddie would never talk
about his father with her either so she has no
information that could help.

I hope I can find out once and for all if there's
another group of relatives out there and see if they have any more pieces to this story.

THE LOWEST LEVEL

So, I'm on the way out of work tonight and a see a kid running across the parking lot towards me as I
open my car door.I still had my Club in my hand
so I wasn't too worried. As it turned out, he was
worse than a mugger.

Kid: "Sir, do you believe in a democracy? Would you
sign a petition to get Ralph Nader on the ballot?"

Me: (after three seconds) "No"

Kid: "You don't believe in democracy?"

Me: "Not for him I don't. I question his motives,
I question his sincerity, I question his ambition.
And I question his timing. He could have entered the race earlier but chose not to because of Howard
Dean. I blame him for Bush winning last time."

Kid:"Well, Ralph has an Impeach Bush Online
Petition, you know."

Me: "If Kerry wins, we won't need it, will we?"

At that point, he saw another potential vic..er..
voter, and ran off.

As I drove home. I tuned in Michael Savage.I
have always believed in knowing what both sides
are saying and this guy makes me wish I didn't.
in the space of twenty..just TWENTY minutes, he

...boasted about a phone call yesterday from an
unidentified "former crewmate" of Kerry's who had
claimed Kerry was a coward and ran from combat.

...questioned Teresa Heinz Kerry's sanity.

...asked in feigned innocence how Sen. Heinz's
kids could let a Democrat get all their dad's
money.

...wasn't it a bit suspicious that Sen. Heinz
who had died in one of those awfully common
small plane crashes hadn't had a pre-nup with his
wife.

...talked about Teresa Heinz Kerry's childhood
in Mozambique and that no one (supposedly) knew anything about her father's life in Portugal.And
wasn't Portugal part of the UnderGround Railroad
(for Nazi's) after World War 2?

I was swearing a blue streak by then and shut it
off.What concerns me is that there are those out there who will take this as gospel, not stopping to question how these "facts" could have failed to surface about Kerry and his wife during the last thirty or so years, when he was running for Senator and she was married to a Republican senator.Wouldn't political rivals have jumped at the chance to expose this stuff?

Would John McCain, Wesley Clark,
Bob Kerrey, and Max Cleland, all of whom have ways to check up on a fellow Viet Nam vet's veracity, still speak highly of his courage in Vietnam if that story were true?

I think not.

This is the lowest level of political hackdom.
If they can't find a way to sway voters with
facts, make up some crap.

What really worries me is that some nut job
will take it much too seriously and decide it's
up to him to save us all.

No wonder it's hard to find candidates to run for
some offices.

Who'd want to go through stuff like that?

SPARE RIBS? I'LL TAKE THEM!

This whole sore ribs thing has become old fast.
It better get over and done with soon, because it's
a pain in the ar..umm..side.

Had dinner over at Cheryl and Pete's and saw my
nephew who is home on leave from Baghdad. We had
a few minutes of conversation before dinner,then
afterwards he bugged out with some friends.I'd do
the same thing if I were him, go have a good time
before he flies back on Sunday.

I've been watching the DNC and must admit I am getting fired up again for the elections. It's
good to see some young voices with some
positive messages like this Obama.

I think the Republicans are becoming more worried.
They've certainly picked up the pace of the ads
against Kerry and it seems to be becoming a bit shrill.

Frustration must have set in after the attempt to
create a sex scandal in the primaries went nowhere
so now they work on his war record. I find it a
bit interesting that the former Air Force Chief
of Staff, who endorsed Bush in 2000, should now
be heading up a committee of retired career officers
supporting Kerry.

Ah well. We'll see in November.

Off to bed.

GO IN AND OUT THE WINDOWS

Hmm. Man, it's late, so this will be a short one, I think.
I went to finish off a story that will kick off
(I hope) a bit of rp and found that I couldn't get
Word to open. "Not a valid application" according
to the fault message. After trying to figure out
how to fix this and nearly putting my medula
oblowhatis into a pretzel, I said the heck with
it and reinstalled Office.
Damn, that was slow. Dust bunnies grew,mated,
and reproduced before it was done.
Later, when I completed the chapter, I found that
I couldn't open Wordpad to c&p the story from
Word so that I could c &p it to the email program
so that it looked decent.
I finally cut to the chase and just reinstalled
damn Wordpad too.
Don't know why it happened.
But it better not happen again, I tell you.
The medula whosis is running low on whatsis.

ENOUGH ALREADY!!

Well, on the personal front, I feel much better
today.I slept in the parlor chair last night and
intended to go to work this morning, but decided
that if I took one more day out, I'd give everything
that extra day to settle back to normal instead of
walking around stiffly all day.

So I called out.I then decided to try the bed
again since sleeping in the chair doesn't really
get me much sleep. I no sooner got into a fairly
comfortable position atop the bed than the phone
rang.I had a suspicion who it would be, and I was
right.

It was TMWMBO, asking if I was planning to go to
a doctor today. I said no, and TMWMBO proceeded to
read me some email sent by corporate in reponse to
an inquiry, then stopped when it becme apparent it
referred to someone who took several days off. I
pointed out that yesterday was a scheduled day off,
explained my reasoning and then said if it was going
to be a hassle then I'd just get dressed and be in.

TMWMBO assured me I shouldn't do that, that this
was just an attempt at cost or people management
(I forget which) and also concern for my health.

I went back to bed and eventually feel asleep and
got a good stretch of mostly comfortable sleep in
before getting up and out later in the day to fetch
food and drink for dinner and gas for the car.

Later I got a call from my sister. Her youngest,
the one at Colby, has a summer job working for
a caterer and dropped a knife on his foot, hitting
his little toe. The EMT gave the kid a scare by telling him in the ambulance that he might lose the toe, but fortunately the doctors had a different
diagnosis. They stitched him up and sent him home
with painkillers and orders to stay off the foot
for a bit.

As I've said before, I hate July. Whoever is
making us all so damn miserable...

KNOCK IT OFF!

REVENGE OF THE HELLMOUTH

Back when they did the store remodel, they moved
the customer service desk to a new location and
there is a slight bump in the floor under the rug
where the old desk used to be. It's not noticeable
unless your shoe hits it and most of the time it's
under a display table, so no worries.

They moved the display table last Friday.

This morning I arrived at work around 10am and
was mildly irritated to see I was scheduled for
three straight hours at register right off the
bat. As I headed up there, I crossed that dead
spot in the floor and my right heel caught the
bump. Someone who saw it said they saw me trip
then my feet just left the ground as I plunged
forward and did a bellwhumper on the carpet which
doesn't do much to soften the cement floor beneath
it.

I landed on my chest and stomach, knocked the
wind out of myself,banged up my left side and
pretty much scared the (sorry) shit out of myself.

After the initial uproar (amazing how folks jump
to assuming it's a heart attack) I hauled myself
up off the floor using a chair for support and
went back to the break room and sat for a bit.
Eventually I went back out to the register and
lasted the rest of my shifts there, but the 4th
hour at info was nasty. Walking and breathing at
the same time wasn't comfortable.

I had lunch at 2pm, and felt ok while sitting, but
when I went back to the register at 3 still found
it a bit painful, so they let me go home for the
rest of the day (with pay) and I slathered a bit
of Ben Gay on the left side. It feels a bit better
now but getting up and down from a chair is slow,
the car was not fun, and I don't even want to think
about what bed might be like.

The Hellmouth doesn't take well to mockery, it appears.

"IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD"

TGIS.

I'm in one of those wacko sleep cycles at the
moment.I got home yesterday fairly early for
me on a Saturday..@7:45. I made myself a pair
of seafood salad sandwiches, sat down in the
parlor,ate dinner,and next thing I know, I'm
waking up around 12:30 a.m. this morning.

Needless to say, this meant I was awake for
a bit and I think it was nearly 7am before I
fell asleep in my bed. I woke about an hour ago.

Lazy, lazy, lazy.

Other than that, I'm feeling well and more
relaxed than I have for several months. I think
the mad scramble brought on by the car troubles
is finally done. I have to admit I feel a little
guilty that I'm reasonably content while people
I care about are having rough patches.

July this year seems to be cursed or something.
Besides those folks who read this,(who make up
the majority of those I care about outside my
immediate family), there's this list of troubles
at work:

1.The office manager was taken out of the store
on a stretcher a week ago Friday with stomach
pains. She was released by the hospital the same
day, but she's been ill again the last three days.

2. Another worker was having pre-op work done for
an operation on his caratoid artery when they found
lumps on his thyroid. Surgery was successful and the lumps were benign.

3. Another worker's mother was taken to the cardiac
icu and was there for a few days until she
stabilized.

4. Another worker was told by his doctor that his
symptoms are job stress related.

Crazy, eh?

I was assigned to "greet" people for an hour yesterday and passed the time mentally debating
how to greet the customers:

.....A Reginald Van Gleason-like"Greeeeeetings,
salutations, and felicitations!" ?

.....A Gomer Pyle-like "Hiiiiiiiii!"?

or my personal favorite...
"Welcome to the Hellmouth."


And despite all that, I find myself singing
along with Jimmy Buffet's version of "Scarlet
Begonias" from the new album we play over the
sound system.

'TAP DANCIN' ON A LANDMINE..'

Hmm..update....

The title comes from an Aerosmith song and it sometimes feels as though that's what life is.
This past weekend, for example, I was sure that
the check I'd sent to the auto insurance company
wouldn't get there in time and and my policy would
be cancelled. It was one of those "tapdances".Not
enough money in the bank to cover the check until I
was paid on Friday, so I had to mail the check later than I felt comfortable with, but had no
choice because I refuse to mail out rubber checks.
Every month,I play the game of deciding which bill
to let slide in order to pay the others.

It's the lower class cersion of plinko, I guess.
.

Ah well, at least I have a job, such as it is.

And this July has been less painful than last
year

Time hasn't dimmed memory, but it's eased the pain.

TRASH TALKING

So yesterday...er..Sunday..I made my weekly
pilgrimage to the laundromat. Since I'd slept in
late I hadn't eaten lunch yet and I decided to go
by McD's and get a burger and drink for a change.

I pulled into the drive-up line, passed the first
menu sign with the specials and stopped at the speaker.

I sat..

and sat...

and sat...

I became a bit annoyed. No one had greeted me and
asked for my order. I turned to face the speaker
to vent my righteous wrath...


And found I'd stopped at a trash receptacle with
that long lid to make it easy for us lazy folks to
throw our trash away.

The girls at the window were still laughing when I
finally paid for my order.

Sigh. My first genuine Senior Moment.

RUROH!

I seem to have gotten a bit lazy about this
blogging stuff, so I have some ground to make up.

My niece Sara and her SO Steve have finally set THE
date: Oct 8th, 2005. My sister is thrilled.

And Paul may be coming home from Baghdad in a few weeks
for r&r.

On the family tree front, I discovered recently that
there's unknown White siblings to my grandfather, and
my Aunt Emily(called Mimi by us West kids because I
couldn't manage "Emily" as a toddler)is coming up from
Florida in a week or so.She was married to Eddie, my
mom's brother, and maybe she might have some other info
to add to the puzzle.

Finally, I discovered that most of my Mayflower Pilgrim
ancestors came from a village in England named Scrooby.

Yes, dear reader.

I am descended from Scrooby Do's

THE DEVIL IN MASSACHUSETTS

One of the local tv stations ran the film 1776
today. It's a musical about the Declaration of Independence.

I'd forgotten how much I'd enjoyed it the first time
I saw it.

Anyway, there's a scene in the movie where the delegates
to the first Continental Congress are arguing over if
they should debate breaking off from England. John Adams
of Massachusetts has irritated the Pennsylvania delegate
and he has a line more or less wondering why Massachusetts
is the way it is and declares it's evil and that the
devil(Adams)is sitting in that room with them.

I had to laugh. Yep,that's Massachusetts alright. Back
then, you had men and women descended from Puritans and
many of whom were among the most educated colonists,
and even then political debate was an art form here.

And just when things were quieting down a bit, the first
big wave of Irish immigrants arrived. And everyone knows
about the Boston Irish and politics.

At any rate, Massachusetts has a long tradition of being
the fly in the ointment, the place where someone will
keep asking "Why?" until they get an answer they either
agree with, or one they will fight to change. Witness
the American Revolution and the Abolitionist Movement
later. It's not always a polite debate, but it was from
this state that the Revolution spread, and one of the
things they fought for was freedom of speech.

Which is why I often laugh at conservative talk hosts
doing their usual smear job on any politician from
Massachusetts, because if not for those crazy Boston
bastards of 1776, there might not be an America.

It's not treason to ask questions about or disagree
with government policies, nor is it unAmerican.

It's called democracy.

And damned if one of the places it started wasn't right
here in Massachusetts.

ALARUMS & EXCURSIONS

Ah, a day off. The calm in the eye of the storm.

Yesterday was another crazy day. The sad part is, if
we had one or two more booksellers(not shelvers or
barristas or alpha's oh my!)it would have been much
less stressful.

As it is, those of us there are running back and forth
between info and registers, and at this rate we will all
be burned out by Christmas. I find myself drifting
towards rudeness with some customers lately and take that
as a signal to take my ten minute break.

Among the more...unique...ones lately:

The woman who I called to notify her that her book
had come in. Her answering machine took the message
after I was treated to a quote from the Bible that
the customer's disgustingly cheerful voice delivered
with a "There! That should help you through your day."
I hung up with a few well chosen(and whispered)phrases
of my own.

The woman looking for a summer reading book for her
daughter:
"Where are your kid's books? Not the kid kid's books,
but the kid's books." (She wanted Young Adults.)

The woman who made use of the computer kiosk:
"The computer says it's a large paperback.Where
is your large paperback section?"

Add to this TMWMBO in full voice paging the troops
from info to registers and then two minutes later
paging them back to information and you have people
walking about with stressed looks.

It was 6pm before I had a chance to try to reshelve
some of the day's returns that had accumulated along
the books and such that customers leave lying about.

I do love the book biz. I do,really.

But damn, I need a vacation.

And it now appears that won't happen until August.

....IS BLOWIN' IN THE WIND....

Saturday was an amazingly busy day at the store,
considering we're in the slow season, and we were
lamentably short staffed. A long tiring day.

I spent a good portion of the day at register, and
it is not the most intellectually stimulating part
of the job...and yet....

I saw him standing in line at the far end of the
counter, a man perhaps a few years younger than I.
He was wearing a blue tshirt and a pair of jean
shorts. Very low jean shorts. So low, his beer belly
was hanging out over the waist and flopping nicely as
he advanced to my register. It was not until he was
standing across the counter from me that I noticed
that his zipper was also low.

Very low.

Ok, it was open.

He handed me his chosen DVD. I debated alerting the
gentleman of his umm..openness. Several customers
had noticed it as well. But as I looked at the guy,
I couldn't decide how to bring the subject up.(cough)

BT like?: "Milord, your blade is near unsheathed.
Secure it, please."

Dhugal like?: "Och y' bluidy numpty! Y' willie's
wavin' oop in th' wind!"

After a closer look at the guy's face, I decided he
was not in the best of moods and not likely to take
a hint well no matter how nicely (or not) I might
put it.

So I handed him his change and wished him a nice day.

And didn't salute the colors.

AND NOW, THIS REPORT

Umm..lessee..I'm still breathing. Although I
must have pulled something in my neck because there's
an ache from just by the back to a little ways out to
the left. Pain in arse..umm..no..neck...

Writing has picked up again. HT is moving along and
I have a few other stories in the mental pipeline if
I don't curl up like the Hunchback of Notre Dame this weekend.

Store passed the audit. Civilization as we know it is
safe.

And it's a damn BIG family tree.

Back to Jim in the studio

CAN I HAVE A VOWEL?

Another graduate of the Pat Sajak School of Spelling:
Pretty Young Thing customer whips out her checkbook
as I total her purchase.

Me: "That'll be twenty dollars and sixty-seven cents."

PYT:(stares at check): "Is there a y in twenty?"

Ah yes. A twentee something.

Lord Help us all.

At least she didn't ask if there is one in "sixty-
seven".

CYCLE

It's Father's Day and while climbing the Family Tree
last night I wondered how Dad would have reacted to
some of the things I've found on the climb. He was a
country boy who went to war who decided to stay in the
city when he came home(although technically he stayed
in the suburbs by his folk's standards it was the city).
He never finished high school and was a blue collar
worker all his life, most of it as a glazier. And here
it turns out that some of his ancestors were among the
leaders of the first towns in Massachusetts,and possibly
he could be related to the royalty of Europe.

He also has some drunks and scoundrels among his family,
at least by Puritan standards.

I could hear him muttering "idjit" as I read about
John Barnes. Dad wouldn't care that John was rather
infamous as a drunk, but he would have shook his head
in disgust that John was killed while apparently petting
his bull and the bull petted back ...with a horn. Any
sober farmboy would know better.

The irony of some of the things I've found amazes me.
I've lived all unknowing in a town (Marshfield) where
several ancestors lived and died,gone to college in a
town (Bridgewater) founded by others, hiked in a third
where other ancestors lived. Now my nephew will be
attending the London School of Economics for a semester
this fall: back to England where we came from.

It strikes me as a turn of some grand cosmic cycle.

MUSE-ICALLY SPEAKING

The Muse is back sort of and seems to be doing fine.
I zipped through two parts of HT the other day and
the words to much of the next two or three are pinging
around in my brain since then. I will wait until Sunday
to work on them though because I have found that
when I write late at night, I either get bogged down
and find it hard to continue, so I set it aside,
OR, I sit here much,much too long into
the wee hours of the morning determined to get it
all down while the flow is going well.

That second part leads to no sleep and a very
long day at work the next day.

So.......

Sunnnnnnnnnndaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy!

(insert race car radio ad music here)

Meanwhile, I hight myself off to yonder bed.
Yeah, right over there....
(yawn)

Night.

INNER BUBBAHOOOD

Back a few weeks ago when I knew I was about to
enter the Financial Valley of Doom,I found a deal
at my local supermarket on frozen hamburgers. These
are sold under the brand name of Bubba Burgers and
usually go for $6.99 for a pack of six 1/3 lb.
hamburgers. The sale was "Buy one, get the other free",
so I became the proud buyer of 12 Bubba Burgers. I
took the two packs home and stowed them into my not
overly ostentatious but roomy (ok,halfempty) freezer
to be cooked at some future date.

Today was that day. Not for all 12, good lord no,but
two Bubba Burgers were placed in the skillet and
heat applied.

Friends, you know that term about "your mouth will
water!"?


Well, I'm here to tell you, brethren and sisters,
my mouth done salivated! I expected the Boston Pops
to burst into my living room to play Aaron Copeland
whilst Sam Elliott intoned in all his folksy cowboy
charm:

"Bubbaburgers. They're for Dinner."

I put them Bubbaburgers on two slices of white bread
(hamburger rolls are only for cookouts in our family
tradition), added some mustard,ketchup and relish,
covered them with two more slices of bread and
gobbled those suckers right down.

Were they good?

Great Lord Almighty, they sure as heck were!

Dessert was some Oreos.

I will go to bed soon tired but replete, and
content in the knowledge that I am, at last, in
touch with my Inner Bubba,

DE-UNKIFIED

Guess what?

Unk stands for ......

Unknown

DUH!!!!!!

Ah well..it made a funny poem, anyway.

Day off today. Made a laundry run and then
came home mildly concerned over a gurgling stomach.
Turned out it was merely hunger and after I ate
a pb sandwich it quieted down.

I took along a Michael Jecks mystery with me to
the laundromat. They are set in 13th century England
and while they aren't classics, they are good reads
and give more insights into medieval life. Many of
his books you already know whodunnit but watch his
two heroes pursue the truth while learning about the
ins and outs of whatever medieval fact of life they are
dealing with. This one is The Leper's Return
and by the title you can guess the angle in this one.
But I enjoy them and it's a reminder to me that not
every story has to be poetic and lyrical, and that
attention to characters goes a long way.

SO GOODNIGHT, YOU MOONLIGHT LADIES....

Hmm..been a few days.Headcolds tend to suck
what little ambition I have away.

One of those days today.I was once again reminded
that TMWMBO is a person with moods and that unless
I watch my step, that mood could put me out the door.
Nevermind the details. Suffice it to say I went about
the rest of the day with a queasy feeling in the pit
of my stomach and fearing a summons to the inner
sanctum for a pink slip.

When I came home I nuked a meal and was sitting down
to enjoy it when this tremendous clap of thunder
burst right over the house. Usually something like
that doesn't bother me,and I knew my comp and modem
were off and safe,but ..they hadn't forecast a
thunderstorm on the radio during the drive home.
Perhaps TMWMBO had found a more arcane way of
being rid of me?

Taking no chances I put aside dinner,moved away
from the windows and waited. One more burst of
thunder and lightening and a small torrential
downpour later,I finished dinner and then did
what I do all too often lately.

I fell asleep.

So I missed any rp tonight because it was nearly
1:30 am when I finally staggered over here to the
comp. Can't feel too guilty though as I have been
a bit wrung out from this damn cold.

At any rate: that day is over.

Tomorrow (or at this point,today) will be a
better one.

SUNDAYS WILL NEVER BE THE SAME...

Sunday. The day of rest.

What a beautiful concept.

I have come to appreciate Sundays more as I age.

There is the religious aspect of it,of course,but
I'm not a churchgoer,and I think even the Church
lessened that when they said if you go to a 5pm
mass on Saturday you were covered for weekly
obligation.

No,what I love is the sheer pleasure of knowing
it's my day off,a day when I can do as I please
with no pressure of having to rush about to work.

It's not so many years away from a time when there
were only a few Mom and Pop stores open on Sundays,
and the malls were closed. The heaviest flow of
traffic was going to or coming from the beach or
the mountains.

You took time to sit with your friends or family at
a barbecue,or maybe you did yardwork as a family,
or just lay on your bed with the Red Sox game on
while occasionally you'd hear a car go past outside.

Not so long a time ago.

FRIDAY

That's all. It's Friday. Another closing shift
where I get to pick up after the literate people
of Massachusetts, who can damn well find a book on
the shelf but seem spatially challenged in putting
them back.

So they drop them on the floor in front of the shelf.
Or leave them in little stacks next to the easy chair
they sat in.

I still say some sort of electro-shock training would
solve the whole damn problem. Drop a book on the floor,
you get zapped.

Ok..so it might not cure them of the habit.

But it would sure make the rest of us feel a bit
better.


(muahahhah)

MISSING LINKS

I just now noticed my links to other folks blogs
are missing in this new template. I'm not sure how
to fix it yet. I really,really,really
like this look so I'll see it the FAQ's have a
solution before I consider changing yet again.

On another note, I noticed that this is post
#102.

Man, that' a lot of nothing!

THE MINUTE(MORE OR LESS) BLOG MINUET

I'm afraid that I must state
That to blog it's very late,
So I only have a minute
To post an entry in it.

No profound thoughts I should keep
On the net before I sleep.
Nothing weird happened today
So I've nothing much to say.

Oh wait, there is a thought!
How on earth could I'd forgot?
Let me quickly set it right:
When you sleep, sleep well! Good night!

The Word That Dares Not Speak it's Name...At Least Not Much in Public.

Alright. I've mentioned before that I enjoy working the
retail end of books, but there are some days....

like today...

....The lady who asked if she could leave her bundle
behind the counter. She was obviously a chemo patient
and I felt like a heel,but since 9/11 we aren't
allowed to take unattended packages. I felt bad,and
tried to tell her why,but was told "No was enough.
I don't need fifty reasons."

....The man who asked for a job application and then
asked if the starting pay was over or under $10. We told
him it was under. He decided not to take the application.

....And then, there's this..

ME: "Hi, can I help you?"
WOMAN: "I'm looking for a book on a particular
subject."
ME:"can I help look it up for you on the computer?"
WOMAN: "I'm looking for something on masturbation."
ME: "Umm..." (types mastrubation on screen)
WOMAN: "You spelled it wrong. It's M-A-.."
ME: "Umm...right..I'll fix it.." (hits
search) ...um."
WOMAN: "Do you have anything on the motivation
and psychology of masturbation?"
ME: (looks at screen) "Umm..all we have is the
Big Book of ..that..and its down in the Sex
section. It's a manual, actually."
WOMAN: "Would that include females?"
ME: "I believe so, yes."
WOMAN: (smiles) "I'll look at that."

So I take her down there. When I return, an old
lady is staring at the computer screen.

I forgot to clear it. I did. Quickly.

And then there's Stacy.I love the name Stacy for
obvious reasons.

The new Inventory Supervisor is named Stacy.

We think he used to be a man. Or is in the
process of becoming a woman.

Like I said..
Some days..

UNK-IFIED (WITH APOLOGIES TO DR. SEUSS)

When I started climbing my family tree
I didn't realize what a chore it might be.
I really had nothing much else on my mind
Then to see what I could possibly find.
I already knew of a number of names
I knew Barker and Dunham and Abbott and Ames.
But never, no never, did I possibly thunk
I would find I'd a relative, Joanna Unk.

It must not have been easy to grow up an Unk.
It's not a name beaus want to carve in tree trunks.
But her story's not tragic,it isn't you see,
Because if it were there would not be a me.
She lived out a typical Puritan life,
Met someone who loved her and became his wife.
And somewhere in heaven she's drinking some hooch
With our distant relative Mistress Ruth Gooch.

IN DREAMS...

Weird night last night/this morning.

There were some strong t-storms moving through
the area and I was forced to dive offline. I can't
afford to replace a zapped modem or computer right
now. After a half hour they died down or so I
thought,but I no sooner powered the comp up then a
very loud crack of thunder convinced me that maybe
I just better give up for the night and go to bed.

Now I usually don't dream when I finally go to sleep.
Or at least I don't usually recall any when I wake up.
But for the second morning..ok, afternoon....I woke
with the dream still largely fresh in mind. The other
day it was one of the few dreams I have several times
a year,the one where I never really graduated from college

This second one is new. I'm visiting some factory and
being shown around the grounds, which includes some
sort of toxic waste facility,and when we look over the
railing,there's two men swimming in it like its just
a normal swimming pond. One man even is back floating
while drinking a beer. Anyway,I yell at them, there's
a chase, the one with the beer bottle turns out to be
English and my pursuit takes me there, where I end up
posing for pictures with a pair of young ladies who
say they are Beer Drinker's daughters. As we are
standing wherever the photo is being taken, Beer man
runs past and over the bridge back to America.

Hey.It's a dream!

I give chase, eventually catching up with him at some
apartment house where I meet an artist carrying one of
those big portfolio bags out of which some business
envelope falls. I return it to him. The dream then
jumps to something that seems to be a staff party
with games going on. My team takes a big lead but then
falls behind when some of the members slack off.

The dream ended when we line up for food and I get
a large mound of rice on my paper plate. I go back to
ask for more and the kitchen worker puts a spoonful of
some meat next to the rice, and that is where I woke
up.

Weird eh?

No wonder I don't remember most of my dreams.

MUSING ON THE MUSE

Hmm. One of the drawbacks of having titles is
having to come up with one for each entry. Maybe
I'll wait until its finished and then think of one.

Another Sunday and a late sleep-in day. I didn't get
online until late last night/early this morning,(in
other words, the usual time)and most of the folks
dropped off for the night,leaving ladybug and myself
for a bit. In between the usual exchange of daily
news between Miz DI and myself, I fired up Word and
worked on the latest story. Writing felt awkward,a
sensation that probably means the story will not be
very good. I managed to wring three or four paragraphs
out of my soggy brain and then gave it the rest of the night off.

I came to writing late. I was a voracious reader and
it wasn't until my early thirties that I had any
thought of trying my hand at a story(the one in
my high school literary magazine doesn't count).
What motivated me was something that is common
to many writers in the beginning:I'd gone through
all the books written by one of my favorite authors
and was left wondering"What happens next?"
to some characters. For me it was Marion Zimmer
Bradley's Darkover series and I ended up writing a
short story imagining a meeting between two
characters that had repercussions in the books that
came after.

So my first real story was fanfic, but I knew that
working with already established characters meant
you have to respect them as their original author
created them. The rest of my Darkover fiction, about
for or five stories,I think,featured my own characters
trying to deal with the world of Darkover. But when
MZB had to withdraw permission for fan written
stories due to legal trouble,Jumeaux and
Contes di Cottman IV ceased publication and
I stopped writing. I occasionally run across my copies
when rummaging through my dresser and have to say I
am relieved that"Woof!"suffers a deserved
oblivion.

So my Muse atrophied for a few decades until I found
myself in #Camelot and it got nudged awake by the rp
and stories written by others about their characters.
At times,my imagination flows quickly and there have
been periods when I can write a story a night. But
there are other times when there's not even a trickle
and nothing comes. It would be easy for me to blame
it on the rp or rl,but that's not true,not entirely.
Certainly how I feel about #Camelot effects how I
write about BT,but blaming lack of inspiration on
lack of roleplay is specious. Generations of writers
got along quite well for centuries without it.

I mean,Tolkien didn't roleplay,did he?

Hmm..I think I have a title for this entry now.

LATER, BACK AT THE RANCH.....

Well,that was a relatively painless day.Except for
the unexpected ummm...pleasure....of the musical act
that performed tonight.

He's a teacher at a local high school and apparently
talked up his appearance with his students because he
had an appreciative gaggle of gigglers there. I would
have forgiven him that except for two things:

1. He intro'd one song as something he co-wrote with
Bob Dylan, and the sad thing is that many of the sweet
young things listening most like believed that yes,
their teacher co-wrote "All Along the Watchtower."

2. He can play the guitar quite well. He should stick
to doing just that. Forget trying to sing,and have
mercy on the rest of us who are not your worshipful
students.

Next time, show up with a pail.Use that to
carry a tune, since your voice sure as heck can't.

Pffffft!

I'M AWAKE! REALLY!

Just ignore the yawning and the impression I
would rather be back in bed. That's what I'm doing.

Closing shift at work. With any luck it will be a
quiet night and we can get out before midnight. And
they won't play the William Hung cd after closing.
I hope. Last time they did,four of us went over to
turn it off at the same time.

Ah well..guess I have to get my butt in gear.

DAMN AND DOUBLE DAMN

Well,matters in Cams just took a decided turn for
the worse,frankly. Mike,who plays my Squire,gave me
heads up that he's about to drop out of rp.

I can't be mad at him about it. He has a real life,
a new ambition to be a writer and he wants to pursue
it full throttle. But is is depressing for me to see
the person I'd privately tagged to be the best choice
we had to carry Camelot on in the future leave.

More about this later. I need to go get in the car and
drive someplace with the radio on VERY loud so I can
work out my frustration.

LET'S HAVE ANOTHER CUP OF COFFEE...WAIT.MAKE THAT SEVERAL CUPS!

If I didn't have some things I want to do today,I'd
just crawl back into bed for a few more hours.I think
the combination of the pressures of working in a big
store with a small staff with staying up late climbing
up the family tree caught up with me today.I have
that heavy feeling in my arms and legs.Put that with
my natural inclination to want to sit and read and
that means bad things for housecleaning.

Today will be B.'s last day at work.I forgot it is my
day off and so didn't say goodbye to her yesterday,but
I left a note in her locker to wish her well in her
new life. She's a good person who got the full works
from TMWMBO and so we've lost another book lover.

The company conducts customer satisfaction surveys for
every store and the ratings for ours have declined for
a bit now,not that they were ever very good to begin
with.But perhaps the downsizing of staff might have
a bit to do with that decline, where those few on
the information desk are less pleasant because they
are stressed,and those at the registers are in robot
mode after five hours (or more) on the registers?

Wait! What am I thinking? It's obviously all our
fault for not being happy campers!

Pffft!

Time for more coffee!

I REALLY SHOULDN'T GIVE A DAMN

I shouldn't, really ,but watching the chaos that is
now the norm at the store I sometimes feel like just
laughing, and then at other times I feel like telling
someone to get the hell out of my way while I dive
back into the whole inventory mess:
..unprocessed customer orders
..latest weekly magazines still sitting on a cart
out in the back room and the week nearly over
..a post inventory return that seems to go on
forever
..unsorted merchandise
..newly hired help quitting after two weeks
..an experienced worker quitting after two years

This is not the fault of the workers but rather the
system put into place by the Home Office over a year
ago. It's unworkable, at least in our store for
several reasons,not the least of which is TMWMBO.

Ah well. The urge to laugh is brought on whenever I
recall the statement that I might regret stepping down
from my former position if whomever took over did a
better job then I did in the back room.

Yeah. Right.

Right now, I see them all running around doing
what I did better with half the bodies they have at
their disposal now.

Pfft.

FAMILY

I have, as I said earlier, been climbing up the family
tree lately and been finding myself pretty far up there
in branches I never knew existed. It's easy to find
yourself driven to find more connections and fill in
more blanks in the family. There will of course reach a
point where I will get as far as I can because of the
brick walls (see Elusive John C. and Grandpa Bastard
below)but for the moment it seems like there's a ton
of people to enter into that pedigree list.

That being said, I also have come to realize how little
I know about the generations closer to me because of
the Bastard's walking out so many years ago on my Mom's
mother. And there are things about both my parents that
I know that I've long forgotten.So every once and awhile,
I'm going to write some in here and eventually turn it
into some sort of record for my niece and nephews.
Dad, Floyd Earl West Jr. was born just before the
Great Depression hit and grew up in the northwest area
of Maine. Somewhere around here there's an old photo of
Dad and his older sister Dorothy as kids, dressed in potato sacks because it was summer and the sacks were
able to take wear and tear and save clothes. He got
invited to leave a military academy after hustling pool,
saw action in the Pacific in World War 2 and after the
war settled in Boston and was working for a landscape
company when he met my mother on a blind date.

My mother was the youngest of two surviving children of
my grandmother, Agnes White. Mom had red hair and was
known to all her cousins as "Red White". She had St.
Vitus Dance as a younger child, dropped out of the Mary Curley High School, and went to work as a cashier at the old A&P grocery chain when her cousin Nancy fixed her up with Dad on the blind date. They married in June 1947 and a year later I was born. Cheryl came along five years later,and then after seventeen years,my kid brother Phil arrived.

Grandma Agnes lived with us when I was young and was
called "Nannie" by all us grandkids. She looked a lot like my mother but with black hair that was grey, and there's a picture of her sitting at the kitchen table eating peas
on a knife. She'd had rheumatic fever when she was a
child back at the turn of the century and that resulted
in a rheumatic heart. One night we visited some of her
cousins who had an Irish wolfhound. As we were leaving,
the dog jumped up, knocked Nannie over and she broke her
nose. Apparently she had a heart attack from the incident,
because I recall the oxygen tanks and the doctor's visits
started around then. She'd led a hard life, since she'd divorced her husband, a shameful thing for a Catholic in those times, and her heart just gave out on her at age 56.

Think I'll stop there. It's waaaaaay late.

LAZY BONES

Another Sunday and I'd rather be napping

Last night was fairly relaxing in least as far as roleplay goes,
so I was up to the wee hours and slept until around noon today. I
updated the tourney scores over a cup of coffee and then after
getting my self soundly beaten by my squires, I'm sort of vegging
out by the keyboard.

Some casual Googling late last night initially uncovered a connection
between myself and one Rychert Dunham..an ancestor of my Dunham
line, who is claimed by some to be descended from the Plantagenets
of England. The facts seem to be in dispute in some corners, so I
can't claim the Throne , but still, it made me grin a bit
considering how much of a Plantagenet buff I've been, and now I
find that some people would say I'm their descendant.

More later. I want that nap.

THE SPARK

Once upon a time, I loved working in a bookstore. It wasn't that I
had some romantic notion about what the book business is. It's
more demanding physically in some ways than many people think.
Try carrying an armful of books from one side of a 25,000 square
ft store to another.Not small books, but larger heavy books Now,
there are heavier things to lift, but while you are carrying that load
you are answering questions, making detours to show where some
book is on the shelf, etc. But that never bothered me. Like I said,
I had no romantic illusions and I'd worked more physically demanding
jobs in the past. It was the interaction with the customers that made
it fun:finding a book..recommending another, finding out if the last
book you hand sold to them was enjoyed. It made it fun.

Lately, that spark is gone. I spend half my workday on the registers
trying to get people to give us their email addy for the newsletter,and
the other half mostly on recovering the store because the company is
keeping the payroll lean and mean.

The best part of my workday is when I punch out to go home.

Once upon a time, I used to really enjoy roleplay.It challenged my
imagination and gave me a way to escape temporarily from real
life in a period that was difficult. It was fun. Lately, that spark is
gone too, partly from my own attitude, to be honest with myself

Does my rp seem wooden because I have lost that spark?
Or have I lost that spark because the rp is wooden?

Bleh.

WE ARE NOT A-MUSED

The Muse ain't cooperating. The well is dry. Very frustrating.

Bah!

Might be lack of sleep..or the time of year..I hate this time of
year for various reasons..but whatever it is, no Muse.

And no Muse is not good Muse.

MIDNIGHT(OR THERE ABOUT) AT THE OASIS

But it may be we shall even meet again, for it is still to be told how the gnomes robbed the fairies, and of the vengeance that the fairies took, and how even the gods themselves were troubled thereby in their sleep; and how the King of Ool insulted the troubadours, thinking himself safe among his scores of archers and hundreds of halberdiers, and how the troubadours stole to his towers by night, and under his battlements by the light of the moon made that king ridiculous for ever in song. But for this I must first return to the Edge of the World. Behold, the caravans start...
- Lord Dunsany

..right over there in my bed...

YAWN..AND UMM...YAWN AGAIN

It's Sunday, and it's shaping up to be a lazy sort of day. I
slept about six hours and feel like I could sleep another 10. I
still might doze off in the parlor in the chair by the windows
for a bit after I finish this, but eventually I will have to go out
to the store.

Can't be avoided. I'm out of t.p.

The Starbucks Colombian coffee looks different from the stuff
I usually drink. For one thing, it's ground very fine, and it's
a bit darker in color. I bought it because it's a mild blend, but it
tastes stronger than the Maxwell House I am used to. Ok, so
either the nice salesgirl played a trick on me, or my tastebuds
are hopelessly blue collar.

Besides wanting to sleep, I feel a bit bleh today. This puzzles me
since I haven't really eaten a lot of stuff lately that might make
me feel lousy. Yesterday was a "toast and coffee breakfast, bagel
w/ cream cheese and coffee lunch, and a grilled cheese sandwich
and a coke dinner" day. Of course, it might be because I haven't
eaten that much causing me to feel bleh, but if I eat normal meals
today I'll fill up and feel bleh.. vicious cycle.

It has come to the point that I am reluctant to enter Camelot if a
certain party is present. The typist is a good person, I'm sure, but
the character is just so perfect it makes me crazy.
If I'm not in there to rp, I'm sitting outside and watching the rp on
the website and making nasty comments to those I am with.
Umm..many of whom are now reading this here..again...

Sorry...

Umm...moving right along, I have come to the conclusion that
somewhere in an alternate reality there is an alternate me living
out his life as a historian or professor instead of me.

The lucky bastard.

TRA LA , TRA LAY, THE LUSTY MONTH OF MAY

Bah.

Rent day.

May dawns and I'm off to spend a nice day in the store. Sometimes
the urge to play hookey is hard to resist, but I can't afford to give in.
Part of it is that I'm closing a second night in a role following a midday
shift that ends at 9pm. My sleep cycle being what it is(and with my
being an idiot and playing in the family tree far too long each night)
I feel like I'd rather crawl back into bed than go face SWMBO.

Speaking of which, I better close this and get my butt in gear.

GOOD DAY, SUNSHINE...

Good day off. Rain cleared out last night and it was cool
and sunny.I drove over to Weymouth and used the Starbucks
gift card I got in the Christmas Grab at work and got myself
a large bag of ground Colombian, then went to the laundromat,
and topped it off with a trip for groceries. Things will be a bit
tight the next two weeks so I bought the hot dogs on special
and put them in the freezer. I usually only eat two meals a day
anywho when I'm working and I can always order a bagel and
cream cheese for lunch which with my employee discount is
cheap at $1.02

Did a little writing tonight and it felt a bit awkward. Proof that
practice makes perfect I guess. My brief bit of roleplay turned sour
with the advent of yet another vampire character who of course
is misunderstood and persecuted. Bah.

Sad state of affairs when real life becomes an escape from
fantasy, eh?

UP A TREE WITHOUT A PAD..ER..SOMETHING..

I've spent a fair amount of time today climbing up the family tree
and while I've made little progress I can say it's been rather
distracting.(yeah, I didn't write anything.). The original material I
started out with came from a relative nearly twenty years ago now
and there's more stuff out there online that was not available to
her when she worked on this. All the family history sites, for
example. I discovered one tonight run by someone who shares a
common ancestor 10 generations back.

On the other hand, the elusive John Cutter West remains just
that:elusive. I now refer to him mentally as Elusive John. And on
the other side, there's my mother's dad, Edward F. White Sr., who
abandoned the family in the height of the Depression, the bastard.
Of course, I'm sure he must have had his own version of those events,
but hey, he never showed up to tell anyone. At any rate, those are
the two brick walls or squirrel guards, if you want, on my family tree.

Of course, spending most of the day on that meant my phoneline
would be busy when and/or if work called to try to get me to come in
to work inventory.

Hmmmmmm...wonder how that went?

SEEMS LIKE OLD TIMES

So, Friday night, besides the sampled beauty creme, I found a bag
on the floor in the cafe shortly before midnight. I'd seen it there
earlier in the night around 8pm, but customers often leave things
by their chair while they go get some coffee at the counter, so I
didn't bother with it. Of course, after closing, that's a different
matter. It held a pound of turkey roast, a wedge of some god awful
looking cheese, and a steak. I showed it to T. the cafe manager, asked
if we should save it in the fridge out back, but after thinking about it,
I threw the bag out. With my luck, it might have been a bio terrorist
attempt to poison us all with rotten cheese. I joked with C. after that
any second some sweet old lady would pound on the door looking for
her food and I'd just dumped it like an idiot.

Cut to @9:30am Saturday morning:

The phone rings. and the answering machine starts up before I'm
fully awake. It's the manager, TBWMBO. "Bill...I'm sorry to wake you
but T. says you might know where a customer's bag of groceries
from last night went?"
ME: (after befuddled swipe and picking up of phone off floor): "Umm..
I threw that out..."
TBWMBO: "I thought you might have, but T. wasn't sure, and the
man's a Russian with a bad accent who wanted to know."
ME:(after musing why Boris Badinov was at the store) "umm...ok."

I eventually went back to sleep for another hour or so after wondering
if Russians with good accents are not as forgetful as bad accented
Russians.

LIKE, WHAT'S UP WITH THAT?

During the course of what we euphemistically call "store
recovery", I ended up in the Gifts and Stationary area to
straighten up spme shelves and found some tubes of
hand creme that had been opened and "sampled" by some
of our customers. After the usual grumbles over the cosmic
idiocy of selling items like this in a bookstore I was struck
by the question of why it is some women have little or no
hesitation in opening something up and helping themselves
to things like cosmetics.

What's up with that? Guys wouldn't think of doing something
like that. I suppose it's because of all the free samples some
stores give their female customers; it must encourage the idea
that's it's alright to take a few squirts or a dab here and there.

I suppose though that if guys could get away with it, we'd sample
beer or food.

OF AVALON AND MORRIS (NO, NOT THE CAT)

Near Avalon
by William Morris

A ship with shields before the sun,
Six maidens round the mast,
A red gold-crown on every one,
A green gown on the last.

The fluttering green banners there
Are wrought with ladies' heads most fair,
And a portraiture of Guenevere
The middle of each sail doth bear.

A ship with sails before the wind,
And round the helm six knights,
Their heaumes are on, whereby half blind,
They pass by many sights.

The tattered scarlet banners there,
Right soon will leave the spear-heads bare.
Those six knights sorrowfully bear
In all their heaumes some yellow hair.

Morris is considered by some to be the Father of Modern
Fantasy. His "The Well at the World's End" was one of
the first medieval fantasies and of course he was the
founder of the whole Morris School of art and furniture.
I've got "Well" around here someplace in my Hobbit Hole
and one of these days I might reread it. It's been quite
some time since the first time I did, which was when I
bought the book oh...well..much too long ago.

Got to love the Internet and being able to use modern
technology to look up a poem by a 19th century poet
on a legend from the 5th century.

BLIGETTY BLOGETTY BOO!

A day off spent in relatively little useful activities. I did take
a trip to the local Walmart, though! Yippee! Life is soooo
exciting, eh?

I needed a few things and going to Walmart on my day off
is easier than going to Big K next to the store after work when
I'm tired. So, I went and bought me some floor mats and a cup
holder/tray thing for my car, some 11x14 printer paper and
manila file envelopes for genealogical purposes, and a new picture
frame to replace the one with Dad's photo which disintegrated
at the slightest touch. (The frame, not the photo). I also had
a spare set of car keys made, and last but not least, bought me
a Dirt Devil for cleaning the car floor.

I think it all came about to about $50. I followed that up by
buying $25 worth of groceries.

That has to be the most money I've spent in one day on
anything not related to the car since Christmas.

I finally tracked down the missing Marriage Certificate of my
Mom's folks. I'd found the divorce papers a few days earlier
oddly enough and was weirded out it was granted on November
22. the same date as Dad's death (but fifty years earlier or so.)

Did the usual eating and sleeping and then sometime online
tonight. Oh, and read some of another Michael Jecks' book.

And that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Good night, Ladies and Gentlemen.

PATRIOT'S DAY

Hmm...hadn't realized how sparse the posts were this month.
And I'd done so well in recent days! Anywho, a quick summary of
recent events:

The car continues to be a thing of beauty and a joy forever.

On the work front: the good news is I got my raise.
The bad news is that one co-worker was fired and three
gave notice in one week.

My oldest nephew arrived in Baghdad just as the worst
outbreak of violence in Iraq erupted.

Haven't written a story in two or three weeks now and
I took a six day vaction from roleplay

More to follow later on all or most of the above.