For these, I am thankful

For trust & hope

For Joy
And the beauty in each day

For Larry

Who has wooed me

with lilies

For Retreats
On Star and Appledore
& New Harbor, Maine

For Music
That soothes
comforts
lifts my spirit
opens my heart
moves my body

For Books
To fall into
fall in love with
& read again
& some again

A Good Samaratin? I guess it depends on your perspective

Strange weather in New Hampshire. The the northern tier -- what we call the 'North Country', is under a flood watch this evening. But a "heavy snow" warning begins for them at 4 AM through to 9 PM on Friday. Such is the diverse beauty of New England.

On the coast today, it was dark and gloomy with frequent and periodic heavy rain most of the day. Temperatures hovered close to the 60 degree mark -- a little warm for the season.

I had a salon appointment after work and arrived just in time for another burst of hard rains. Parking as close to the door as possible, I opened my umbrella and made for the door.

A young mom was walking toward me from the mall pushing a carriage with a toddler. She had no cover from the rain.

I offered to cover her with my umbrella and stay with her as she walked to her automobile.

A pretty ordinary scenario? Don't you think?

Well, the young woman only reluctantly allowed my assistance. I was prepared to stay with her and cover the child while she opened the doors and lifted the child into the car. But I was quite summarily dismissed. And I realized only later as I walked away that she was suspicious of the assistance.

So I wondered: what must your life be like if you cannot trust a 5 foot, 63 year old grandmother, who looks like this:

Oh. You caught me. I wasn't wearing my crown.

Behcet's can be lonely place

I don't know one single person who shares this malady.

In fact, its prevalence in the US is about 1 in half a million people.

Tonight, however, I joined an internet 'chat' in-progress, for people with BD and very quickly felt affirmed and less lonely.

In truth, there were less than 10 people involved in the 'chat' but those ten represented an amazing geography: one participant is from Greece; the moderator is from Northern Ireland; and several others are from the New York, Virginia, New Jersey and I think Wisconsin; and there were a few others whose location I didn't learn.

'Chat' participants were warm and welcoming. Not unlike what I have come to expect from the CLL Forum and CLLC Friends: generous, friendly, encouraging, intelligent.

One of the interesting aspects of the nearly 2-hour online event was the voluntary translation going on. A woman from New Jersey was translating from English to Greek and Greek to English for the gentleman from Greece.

This was not her job. She is one who shares Behcet's and I feel certain she joined the 'chat' for her own personal reason.

Yet it was just done.

Because it was needed.

Because she was there and had the skills.

I'll Be Seeing You

July 22, 1945

Germany

Dearest,

I am on my way back to camp. I'm almost there . . . . . I've been in (this) place for two days . . . . getting lots of rest and good food.

How are you, darling . . . . And Patty?

As for me, I am in the best of health.

I haven't heard anything about going home but it won't be too long now, I hope.

Write often, darling.

I love you with all my heart.

And hope to see you soon.

Love and Kisses, Bob

PS.
Give Patty a big kiss for me.

I love you, Dot.

Below the body of this short letter is the admonition to:

REPLY BY V-MAIL

They were so young, those WWII warriors. He was only 24 when he wrote this letter. They were married in 1942 but there wasn't much time for them to be together, to know each other. The war was on; he was married in his uniform.

My father and his two brothers, Norman and Richard, fought the 'good war'. His father, Noe Pierre, was a casualty of WWI and spent most of his adult life in and out of veteran's hospitals suffering the effects of mustard gas. Noe was a staunch advocate for returning soldiers of the WWII and worked tirelessly for them when he was able. He died when I was ten but I have such clear memories of him in the lead automobile heading up the Memorial Day Parade in our Massachusetts town. Military and patriotism were important themes in his household.

During the war years, my mother and I lived with my paternal grandparents. I was the first grandchild and doted on and probably spoiled by my mother, grandparents and youngest uncle, Richard, who was still at home when I was born. I'm told that he would gather me into his arms, take me into his bedroom, prop me on pillows and tell all about his latest 'girl' and his date for the evening.

I recall a room that functioned as an office for my grandfather with a large desk and world globe. My mother said that he also had a large map of the world over his desk on which he plotted the advance of the allied forces. He had a bald, shiney head and I loved the way it smelled. I never smelled that fragrance again.

Hormonal Imbalance

We got tickets for the Four Bitchin Babes this Saturday evening at the Music Hall in Portsmouth -- a show we really looked forward to as we hadn't seen them for a few years. Their new show called, Hormonal Imbalance, was a near-sell-out. By the time we decided to go there were only great single seats left. We took the singles reasoning that after 20+ years we could actually be apart that long.
Hurrican Noel was rushing up the east coast from North Carolina on its way to the Canadien Maritimes. Reports and storm warnings called for all-day rain, high winds and rough seas. It was a blustery night but by the time we were leaving for the show, the storm had been down-graded to a tropical storm (another indication of global warming? seems late for us to be getting a tropical storm!)

I felt it was a great night to curl up with a book and a cup of tea rather than brave the wind and rain from parking garage to Music Hall. But we had already paid for the tickets; we went to the show which was, indeed, a full house with a pleasantly appreciative audience (mainly women).

This foursome is not the original Four Babes; only Sally Fingerett (upper left in the photo) was an original Babe with Christine Lavin, Patty Larkin -- and one other, whose name escapes me at the moment. But these four babes can sing. And write. They are called 'cross-over folk' artists. Their harmony is supreme. They give funny, poignant, heartfelt, high-energy performances.

The Babes gave a nice nod to the men in the audience giving them lots of kudos for bravery! It was a female, night-out for sure.

Their patter and their tunes really poked fun at female angst. One of my favorites was, The Boob Fairy Didn't Come For Me, and poked fun at women who are never satisfied with their hair, face, hips, legs, butts, lips, ears, and-you-name-it-we-probably-hate-it!

Another tune that brought the house down was based on 30,000 pounds of bananas -- but the truck driver in this tune was carrying 30,000 pounds of VIAGRA -- which, on impact, got into the town water supply.

These Babes are on tour together and individually.

I enjoyed the foursome; I would hear each one on her own as well.

Check them out here. You can play their video and listen to tracks from the show's CD.