The Problem With Days Off...

The problem with days off is that I never seem to have enough time to do all the things I have planned. There. I said it. I'm a busy lady, but sometimes I just can't get it all done. I woke up this morning knowing that I had a lot to do, but until I put pen to paper, I didn't have a visualization of what I have left to accomplish around the house before summer turns to fall and fall to winter. As I am a notorious list maker (and my family hates it when I make lists of chores), I am keeping my little list in the study until I am finished with my morning writing and reading. But here is a taste of what we have coming up.

1. Scrub rugs. I have several area rugs that have been vacationing in the garage for the summer. I have to put them out on the patio, hose them down, scrub with some antiseptic rug cleaner, and let them dry completely before letting them winter in the house. As we now have wood floors, the preparation for the return of the rugs was done this summer with proper washing and waxing. Now if I can only keep the dogs from using the rugs as their "facilities". *sigh* The challenge of being an animal lover...

2. Thin out the bean plants. I have a garden in the backyard for the first time ever, having had to ignore my husband's protests in favor of "grass". We haven't had grass since before we had dogs. The dogs ran it into mud, and I decided that with food prices the way they are, and with my classwork frying my brain, I needed a garden to help soothe my frazzled nerves. We have many things planted out there, but the plants that seem to be doing the best are the squash, corn, beans, cantalope and radishes. Some of our seeds never came up, so I have fall seeds to plant, which is #3 on my list.

3. Plant fall seeds. See #2. (I hate redundancy.)

4. Fix mouse. No it's not the kind that runs around testing my cat's agility. It's the kind I use for my laptop. The cover came off the USB connector and although I fixed it once, I will give it one more try before pronouncing it dead and having to run out to find the least expensive and most portable mouse for my needs.

5. Paint outside. We have been painting the outside of the house this year, in preparation for us moving out of this area. Now that the move has been delayed yet another three years, I'm not pushing the painting as hard, but it still needs to be done. It should have been done 15 years ago, and the fact that we are getting it done at all is a miracle in my fight against my husband who thinks it's just fine to let the wood rot, thank you very much. So, painting will have to go on this weekend, as will replacing boards on the house and garage, albeit very early in the day.

6. Move sticky plants. I don't know what these things are, but I suspect they are tiny bushes, so I am having them moved from what used to be a grassy side yard to along the fence that we are slowly replacing, one board at a time. See #22. I have seen our fence jumped before by one of our neighborhood thugs, so having some bushes that might deter them is fine by me. I will use what I have before going out and investing money I don't have in things that won't work.

7. Water outside plants. I have the water going on the garden right now, but also have some outside plants that need some water. It seems that if I don't think of it, it doesn't get done. So that will be one of the main chores I will see to today.

8. Water inside plants. Yes, I have those too. Some of them vacationed in the backyard for a while this summer, but I brought some back in to decorate my "little corner" of the study. I need the green to calm my frazzled nerves. See #2.

9. Edit home movies. Last week before classes began, I had Jason put all our old home movies on the external hard drive, converting them from VHS to what I hope will be nice DVD's. This is one of those ongoing things that nobody wants to do, yet I know it has to be done for the sake of posterity. Maybe I will have some time during Thanksgiving for this, or after the semester ends. At any rate, it's not going to happen this weekend. But I may have Jason copy them to the server, just so we have them in case the external hard drive takes a sudden fall. Something to think about...

10. Go for a bike ride. I have made it Steve's responsibility to make sure I get in an hour bike ride on Saturday. Now that I have gym class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I need one more workout per week to progress in my health. Wait... I'm trusting this to my husband? What was I thinking??? I'll have to make sure I remind him to take care of me.

11. Take pictures at the cemetery. Steve and I are volunteers for www.findagrave.com and haven't been out there since Memorial Day, and the requests are overflowing in my inbox. This weekend will be a nice time to do it, as long as we do it early in the day. If you haven't seen findagrave yet, let me tell you that it is a wonderful service that we do for people who can't get to their loved ones' resting place to pay their respects. We take requests, and I have made several of my own. We will also create a memorial for your loved one if they have been cremated and scattered, as my parents were. It's something to mark their place in time... to say that they were here. I think it's a nice thing to do.

12. Classwork! Oh my heavens... I have a ton of it to do, and I will get started just as soon as I'm finished writing. I'm procrastinating. Did I mention how I hate procrastination???

13. Put down the threshold. We had to take up part of the wood floor this summer when we found some molding going on. The boards have been replaced, but the threshold between the kitchen and laundry room has yet to be put back in place. I don't like it when things look unfinished.

14. Scrub poop area in study. Yes, my wonderful girl dogs have staked out a spot in my study to use the "facilities" whenever I am not around. You'd think it would be easier to let me know they want to go out instead of being yelled at. But I guess since they know WE go inside, they want to as well. I have to figure this one out yet.

15. Work on insulating the gym. As anyone who has read my blogs about the gym knows, I love my gym. We have put up a ceiling, installed an air conditioner, have heaters for winter, put down a rubber floor, and insulated the garage door. I have one wall that still needs insulating. I have the materials for it, but it just hasn't been done. Maybe I should move this up on the list, since winter will be here before I notice and I will be freezing out there once again.

16. Fix afghan. When Rocky was a puppy, she would jump up on my bed whenever I wasn't around and take to chewing on the afghan I made to keep me warm during the winter. She has unraveled part of it, and even though I have fixed it once already, it needs a little more care. Maybe I can get to that one of the evenings this weekend.

17. Put down quarter-round. This is not necessarily MY chore, but one that still needs doing since we put down the wood floor. It's ongoing, as quarter-round costs money and we don't have any. This will take some thought...

18. Give myself a pedicure! I meant to do this over last Thanksgiving, but never got around to it. Oh well. I'm always last on my list.

19. Get a haircut. Last on my list. See #18.

20. Get fabric for outside swing. We have a swing in our backyard that desperately needs a new cover and cushion. But since I don't have any money, this one will take some thought too. I can sew it, but I need money for the marine fabric. Maybe I can get it for Christmas, if we HAVE a Christmas this year. See money comment on #17. More thought...

21. Refinance the house!!! This is a big one, but am waiting on the husband to get his questions answered while the rest of us suffer due to his procrastination. See #12 and #17.

22. Replace boards on the fence. We are doing this a little at a time while we wait for the Titanic to roll up our front lawn. See #6 and #17. The wind storm of 1996 chewed up our boards pretty bad, and when Tucker was around, he would make short work of punching himself through the boards that were slightly cracked. I wish this one were going a little faster. I am so tired of seeing an uneven fence.

Is that enough for this weekend, or do you think I should just pack it in and give up? Ugh... I hate to even think about it, but I have to put all this aside while I do my classwork. Maybe one of my sons will be kind and do one of the chores for me while I study. Maybe not.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

The View from Within

Today I finished up my first week of my sophomore year at Southwest. There is so much to be said for going this far and not backing out. It takes determination and a little bit of insanity to do this at my age. But I am having fun as well as learning, and this will serve me the rest of my life. Let me tell you about the things I learned today.

In my first class, I learned that I am no longer 20 years old. Nor am I 30. Nor 40. Okay, let's face it. I'm not 50 either. My first class was a real eye opener. For the very first time since 1973, I had gym class. This isn't your average, touch-your-toes class. This is a real doggone aerobics, strength and flexibility class that the powers that be are hiding under the moniker of "physical conditioning". We have a textbook and will have to do discussion postings, but we are also required to do the hour-long, no-stop, run-till-you-drop symphony of walking, running, and otherwise torturous activities all directed with great enthusiasm by my stick-thin instructor. I think I hate thin people. I wonder if I was ever meant to BE one. This class will tell me. Although the class is required for my degree, I want this to be a turning point in my life, where physical activity is the norm. Next semester, I will take another physical education class and build on what happens this semester. After that, I will be at U.T. and have access to their excellent facilities, which I will make great use of between classes.

Next on my schedule today was Film. We watched an excellent silent film from 1927 entitled "Sunrise: A Story of Two Humans", and I realized that I had forgotten how great the old silents are. Every aspect of the film had to be thought out well in advance to send the exact message the director wanted to be seen. Every moment, every emotion, every camera angle, every lighting cue... all of it... was intended to evoke a specific emotion from the audience. I can't wait to write my journal on this film and to rent the movie for my family to enjoy. My son, Rhys, took this same film class last year and we will have much to talk about.

Last on my schedule today was my Contemporary American Literature class, and I realized how much I don't know about one of my favorite mediums: Literature. It is not uncommon for me to read before going to bed for the night. I find that it relaxes me and sets my brain up for a restful night. My professor in this class is extremely passionate about his work, and it shows. I can look forward to learning much from him, not just about literature, but how to structure and perfect my own writing.

Those three classes were not my only lessons this week. I also had a Microbiology class, which is making me into a germophobe, or at least more aware of the dangers to our human condition and the reasonable precautions that must be taken to ward off disease. And my final lesson this week was American History. Now, I LOVE American History, but this professor lives up to his wonderful reviews and is making me love it even more.

I can't wait to see how the rest of this semester plays out. I have a lot of work ahead of me, but I am SO excited to see it all happen!

So... what was YOUR week like?

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

Starting Anew - How Sophomoric!

Tomorrow is a milestone for me. It marks the first day of my sophomore year at college. I didn't think I'd make it through the first year, and here I am at the second. So much has happened in the last year; I thought I'd take a few minutes to jot some things down before the bustle begins.

I am ready for the new year to begin, having been "bored" at home (for lack of a better word) for the past two weeks between semesters. I guess bored doesn't really describe it. I've been busy catching up on things that need doing around the house, making a nook for myself to study in, washing and waxing floors, getting more painting done outside, to name a few. It's been hard to get even these few things done, feeling like I have to fight to get anything done around here, and making the most of what I have in the meantime. But I feel like the house is as ready as it's going to be, and I feel more prepared for class this semester than I have in the past. The only thing I lack right now is my green ledger paper to keep track of my grades, but that's something easily remedied. I am going into this year with what I can only describe as a determined focus, with clear goals in mind and all the steps on the path to my goals like a staircase; some goals can be reached by skipping a few steps, but others have a steep climb and can only be reached through some really hard work.

Before I begin class tomorrow, I reflect on the past year. I have lost several very important things; Shelby, Gidget, Tucker and Sophie. Those little souls brought me such joy, and they will continue to inspire me to give all that I have and not hold anything back. I lost my sister-in-law Norma, whose strength as she battled ovarian cancer I use as my inspiration for never giving up. I lost my indifference to other people, which is a wonderful loss. In that, I gave up letting my neighbor put his trash on our lawn, letting our house go to pot, and living with clutter. Those things have no place in my life and are now gone. I lost letting other people walk all over me and will not allow it. I may not have much, but I have my self-respect, and that will effect all the aspects of my life and those in my household.

What have I gained... the friendships of those I thought I would never hear from again (thank you, Chris, Alice, Shelly, Cindee, Ros, and others for remembering me with fondness and respect) and who have changed my life for the better. I have gained a new respect for volunteer work, as Steve and I are now volunteers for findagrave.com, for the Memphis National Cemetery. I have fought for and regained my zest for the simple life, having planted a garden this year and planning the repairs and improvements needed in our house and yard. I have gained a new freedom, in selling my web business to my sons, and getting that gorilla off my back once and for all. In the process, Jason is getting experience in leading others, Rhys is getting experience as a web developer, and I can be free to go back to being a supportive wife and mother, and promising masters student. My focus is now clear and I can move forward without reservation.

I have one more year at Southwest Tennessee Community College, but have already taken my entrance exam for the University of Tennessee Health Sciences Masters Program for fall of 2012. I have my letters of recommendation which, I might add, are all stellar and something for me to strive to live up to. I have a 4.0 GPA going into this year, having made Deans List every semester, and was named most enhanced member of Phi Theta Kappa. I took a Leadership course along with my other four classes this summer and came out on top in all. I have my schedule set for this semester and the plan I have in place will work for me, not against me. I will be spending all day on campus from Monday through Thursday... ONE campus, not THREE! The times in between classes will be spent working in the library on papers and assignments and my trusty laptop will make the daily trip with me, along with my jump drives, SD converter card and Droid phone. I am so plugged in, I wonder how we ever lived without it all. I wonder, for example, what Dzia Dzia would have thought of everyone carrying a phone around with them all the time, with texting and internet usage being the order of the day. I'm sure he'd think we were all crazy, and then he'd go off in his fishing boat with his outboard motor rumbling away.

So what are my plans after college? I have several options open right now, and none are set. My family definitely wants to move north and get away from the swamp air down here. Places like Arizona are completely out, due to dust storms and valley fever. It's too bad, because I have several friends in the Phoenix area that I would love to see again. So the options at this point are... Chicago, Minneapolis or Northern California (maybe). Still not sure about Northern California. But nothing further south, by any means. The center of the country is what I know and what I'm comfortable with, so for now, that is what I have in mind. My husband will retire and become the fishing bum I know is hiding in him somewhere. He says he might take a little job somewhere, which is fine, if it makes him happy. But I want him to relax and not worry about "having" to work at a job. He's had enough worry and it's going to be time to stop it all. I'll be fine, working in a profession that I will enjoy and be rewarded both spiritually and monetarily. The boys will be out of school and hopefully launched successfully. I will be in a climate I love and a beautiful area of the country. Win-win-win-win.

So here I go... into the void tomorrow. I hope that two semesters of English Composition didn't ruin my style of writing, but gave me the knowledge to complete all the papers I know I will have to write. I hope that Oral Communication didn't ruin my extemporaneous style of public speaking and instead gave me a foundation to make my speeches better. I know that A&P, Physics, Stats and Pre-Calculus gave me valuable information that I have already called upon for my entrance exam, and will serve me in my sought profession. And I know that Psychology taught me that everyone has their idiosyncracies, and to stay the heck away from them! Ha ha!

Appreciate every day, those that you love and love you back.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

My Sweet Sophie and a Lesson I Will Never Learn

I guess I will never learn. My sweet darling Sophie left us yesterday after having a fit of severe vomiting and bloody diarrhea for 24 hours. It was like her insides just exploded. She passed peacefully though, wrapped in a warm blanket in my arms, with her family around her, telling her how much we loved her and thanking her for being a part of our lives. She wasn't with us very long, only 7 months. She was born on my birthday last year and we adopted her after Gidget died. She was supposed to help me over Gidget's death. I guess now I know that death is not something you get over. It's something you get past.



Sophie was such a joy... a new soul, obviously, from her lust for life. She ran everywhere. She loved to follow Rocky outside, springing out of the crate every morning and running her heart out. We adopted her from a breeder in Arkansas and drove past Little Rock to get her. Chelsea was in the crate with her, and the breeder gave Chelsea to us as a bonus. The two were fast friends and did everything together.



Where there was one, you'd find the other. She was a love... she loved to snuggle. She would get right up behind my backrest and just snuggle against my back... and she would crawl right next to Steve when he came home from work and sat down in the living room. She love to have her belly rubbed, and she hated baths. She had a very inquisitive look about her and was interested in absolutely everything. Jason would come running through the room (on purpose) and Sophie was in hot pursuit, barking and running after him until he changed direction and ran after her. She loved that game. She didn't let Jason hold her much, but she didn't let me hold her much either. She was funny that way. Snuggling was to be done on HER terms.



We don't know what happened to cause Sophie to get so violently sick and die. We've checked the yard and the house for any telltale signs of poison and have come up empty. I've cried my heart out for her. I miss her so much, I feel like I'll die from heartbreak. I firmly believe that there is a lesson in everything that happens to us. I have screamed out to heaven to tell me what is my lesson in all this. First I lost my brother in April of last year... then my sister in August (Happy Birthday Norma)... then Shelby in October... Gidget 6 days before Christmas... Tucker in February... and now Sophie. This has been a terrible year. In some ways, the year has been good, such as me going back to school and the boys doing so well in school (all expenses paid). But this... this is too much. Steve is having a hard time at work and now with losing Sophie. He loves her as much as I do. We are struggling. I guess every evil thing my siblings wished on me is coming to pass. All I can hope is that there is light at the end of this long dark tunnel. I'm ready to see it end one way or another.



Steve tells me that I have to stop beating myself up for Sophie's death and there was nothing we could do (we suspect it was parvo). Many friends have given me their condolences and one of them cried with me last night (thank you Alice). A very good friend of mine has told me that I'm a good mom (thank you Annie). I just don't feel like a good mom right now. If I were such a good mom, why would my babies keep dying? Steve says they are here because I need to love them and that I need their love in return. I get plenty of it, but it's never enough. Sophie gave me the sweetest kisses (except when she dined in the cat box and kissed me smack on the mouth afterward - YUCK). I still get kisses from Chelsea and Rocky, but my sweet little Sophie is gone. I wish I still had her. I wish I felt like a good mom. I wish so many things that I just can't see through right now. But today I feel like I can't or will never be able to leave this house now that there are 4 of my babies buried in the backyard. I don't know. I just don't know. My heart is broken. Again. I guess my lesson in all of this is to learn to let go. And I will... someday. But I'll never learn not to love an animal... especially one as sweet as my Sophie. I named her after my grandmother, because I know I'll never have a daughter or a granddaughter. Busia, if you're listening, please take care of your namesake for me. I'll see you both on the flipflop.



I love you, Sophie.

Mommy




Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

On The Heels of Success

Like Rosanne Rosannadanna said, "It just goes to show you, if it's not one thing, it's another." Today, still glowing from Sunday's laudfest at my Phi Theta Kappa induction, I was jolted back to reality by a phone call from the administrator of the WINs program which gave me a grant for college. Apparently, the WINs program has been abruptly ended, as evidenced by the Huffington Post.

Oh dear. Now what? I was counting on that to complete my degree. Hm. It's funny how Congress cuts your hopes without even a thought about what it means to your family. So... on to Plan B. I wish I knew what Plan B was. My whole future, and that of my family, rides on me finishing school. I still have the Pell Grant, which will help some. But what if it doesn't cover the total cost of tuition and books? Something to think about...

I am still the Most Enhanced Member of Phi Theta Kappa. I still have a 4.0 GPA. I am still a published author. I have the friendship and loyalty of a great many people, some in very influential positions. I still have a brain. But I also still live where there are no jobs without a degree. Hm.

Okay, so keep going. Do whatever you have to do to finish school. That is the most important thing to consider. My health is improving, so keep going. Even today, after that rude awakening, I keep going. I got into the gym and worked harder than I have to date. I am going to keep on keeping on. Take THAT, Congress!

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

Letting It Out

Jillian Michaels had a post today that I responded to and realized that I needed to write and let it all out.

Her post was:

Up for a challenge? Look into the mirror & ask yourself what it is that you have always wanted to say or tell someone,but haven't had the courage? Share it here & then speak your heart,be vulnerable,& take a chance by saying it to the person the message is intended for. Could be about love, forgiveness, making amends, expressing your needs... The only way to have greater happiness is by knowing greater vulnerability.

My response to this was:

To my brothers and sisters... you all did the wrong thing when Wayne died and you didn't call me and left me out of his obituary. I am his sister. I was the first born daughter. You all disgust me with your hatred and posturing. You took away my chance to say goodbye to my brother. I intend to be happy and healthy the rest of my life whether you like it or not. I intend to succeed. You can all go to hell.

And then I realized I wasn't finished and wrote this:

One more: Dad, you abused me and pretended like it didn't happen. Mom, you LET it happen. You were in the room when this asshole started abusing me! How DARE you treat me like I was your property. How DARE you treat me like I didn't matter. How DARE you lie about me to everyone else. I continue to succeed despite what you and everyone else has done to me. My accomplishments are MINE, not YOURS! I am succeeding because I REFUSE to be defined by what you did to me. I am ashamed to say that I came from you. You assholes. You unbelievable jerks.

I was a precious child, and I am a beautiful, honest, hardworking woman. I have accomplished more in my life than you will ever know. I have just finished my first year of college at the age of 55. I finished with a 4.0 GPA. I am a member of Phi Theta Kappa, an International Honor Society. More than that, I was HONORED as the Most Enhanced Member at Sunday's (May 1, 2011) induction ceremony. I am a member of the Honors Academy. I won a literary competition and am now a published author. People look to me as a leader, and I will be the President of my chapter of Phi Theta Kappa.

You have no hold on me, any of you. When you CHOSE to abuse me, when you CHOSE to turn your backs on me, when you CHOSE to lie about me, it was YOUR loss, not mine. Your hatred turns against you. What you do to someone else has already been done to you. When you abuse someone, your body reacts. Your body kills itself... sometimes it happens quickly, but sometimes it happens over months or years. The body will not tolerate what you have done because your spirit will not allow it. Look in the mirror and see how what you have done has backfired in your own bodies. I hope you are happy with yourselves.

As for me, I will continue doing what I am doing, and I am finishing college. My husband, sons and I will be moving our family when I am done. We plan on having a beautiful life. I have never taken any help from any of you. I don't need your kind of help. I only permit honest, hardworking people in my life, not those who try to justify their bad behavior on some supposed slight, some sense of entitlement or some righteous indignation. I pity you. You will never feel fulfilled. You will never feel loved. You will never have enough possessions to fill the emptiness in your soul. Come to think of it, I was really blessed by your absence. Thanks.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

On Notice: Lynwood Cops

I am putting Lynwood, Illinois cops on notice. I am tired of corruption in their ranks and they just pissed off the wrong Polock. Take a look at the letter I wrote that is going out today. If you are tired with corrupt cops, please send a copy of this letter to the Governor of the State of Illinois and sign your name. I, for one, have HAD it and I think this will have to make its way to the Chicago Tribune as well.

April 22, 2011

Russell Pearson
Chief of Police
Village of Lynwood
21460 Lincoln Highway
Lynwood, IL 60411

Dear Mr. Pearson:

It is with great regret that I find myself writing you today concerning an incident between one of your officers and my cousin, Robert Pluskota. My cousin was unjustly treated and I would like this situation to be rectified. This letter will refer to this officer as “Officer Nobody” since my cousin did not receive a copy of the ticket for the alleged offense.

On April 14, 2011 at around 11:00 a.m., “Bob” was coming home from cashing his income tax refund when he was stopped outside his own home by Officer Nobody for an expired tag on his vehicle. Upon closer examination, it was found that the tag was not expired and Officer Nobody admitted that the stop was a mistake. The issue should have ended right there, but it didn’t. Officer Nobody claimed that Bob did not use a turn signal when turning into the drive of his own complex and that Bob had an obstruction in his line of vision. Let me address these one at a time.

• Firstly, since Officer Nobody admitted there was a mistake in his original reason for pulling Bob over, the issue should have been dropped. Has Officer Nobody never made a mistake and admitted to it? If not, then he is the first person in history never to make a mistake and we should be lauding his accomplishments.

• Secondly, I know for a fact that Bob knew he was being stalked by Officer Nobody and purposely made certain to follow all driving laws. Does Officer Nobody have nothing better to do than to stalk citizens on their way home from cashing a check? Did he think he should get a cut of it?

• Thirdly, Bob had a crucifix hanging from his rear view mirror. I would like to know since when is a crucifix an impediment to vision unless it is a foot in diameter right in front of the driver? Does Officer Nobody have something against faith, religious freedom or the Catholic Church?

• Fourthly, it is apparent to me that Officer Nobody stopped Bob for no good reason and then proceeded to make it worse by his bogus claims and subsequent arrest of my cousin. Why did he not receive a copy of the ticket if he was stopped for an offense he supposedly committed?

• Fifthly, Officer Nobody showed no respect to my aunt and uncle when they came out of their home to talk to this “peace officer”. He was abusive in language, tone and action. My aunt and uncle are well into their 60’s and are no threat to anyone, especially an overzealous cop anxious to make a name for himself.

You may think that my judgment is biased, and you would be correct in that assumption. I know for a fact everything that Bob Pluskota has done to get his life on track after being derailed in the first third of his life. Bob has been sober for over two years, is a good father and contributing member of society. He has made tremendous progress and now with the callous and harassing actions of your subordinate, he has been set back at least a year if not forever. His arrest could cost him his job and that is not something that anyone can afford to lose these days. Would it have been so wrong for Officer Nobody to turn around and leave after admitting his mistake in pulling Bob over? No, it would have been the right thing to do.

Exactly why was Officer Nobody stalking Bob Pluskota in the first place when there are so many other pressing issues in Lynwood? I know well the issues that Lynwood is facing with gang violence and corruption since the close of the projects in Chicago. My family hails from there and I make it a point to keep my finger on the pulse of current events.

You may wonder why I am concerned with this event if I live so far away. The answer is simple. I am against all injustice, both from citizens and from those who are sworn to “protect and serve”. The citizens pay Officer Nobody’s salary, a fact he would do well to remember. He is not entitled to harass citizens for offenses they did not commit. If Bob had violated the law for which he was stopped, this letter would not have been necessary. But he did not. Let it go and expunge this from his record. I look forward to reading your response.

Very truly yours,

Lynn Reichard
6369 Thornfield
Memphis, TN 38134
901-485-4898
Crystal.reichard@yahoo.com

Cc: Eugene Williams, Mayor of Lynwood
Village of Lynwood
21460 Lincoln Highway
Lynwood, IL 60411

Pat Quinn
Governor of the State of Illinois
Office of the Governor
James R. Thompson Center
100 W. Randolph, 16-100
Chicago, IL 60601

Office of the Governor
207 State House
Springfield, IL 62706

A Tribute to Tennessee Tucker Blue, our "Tucker Bug"

It seems that lately the only posts I have been doing have been about the loss of a dear friend, and today's post is no different. Yesterday we lost our beloved Tucker.

Tucker's full name was Tennessee Tucker Blue. He was a full-blooded bluetick coonhound with seven generations of purple champions in his bloodline. Seven documented generations, that is. He came to us in July of 2002, after we lost our black and tan coonhound, Rebel. Our family was still aching from the loss of Rebel when I saw an ad in the paper for bluetick coonhound puppies. Steve had always wanted a full-blooded bluetick, so off we went to see these puppies.

There were three of them left. We saw both the momma and daddy, and they were beautiful. The puppies were running around in a pen with the momma. Tucker was the only boy and was the runt of the litter. We picked him up, and Jason promptly dropped him on his head. Actually, that's not accurate. Tucker squirmed and got out of Jason's arms, but we like to say that Tucker was stupid because he was dropped on his head. Tucker took the ride home in Jason's lap. Although Tucker was registered to Steve, he was definitely Jason's dog. Jason needed a friend, and Tucker needed a family. It was a perfect fit.

Tucker was a handful as a puppy, as most puppies are, but we were used to Rebel, who would come when called, had grown out of the chewing stage, and would stay in the front yard with us when we were outside. Not so with Tucker. Tucker chewed everything that didn't chew him first. He made toothpicks out of our furniture and it was an adventure to wake up every morning to see what destruction he wrought throughout the night. There was newspaper scattered everywhere... chewed up into little bitty pieces. I don't know what the fascination was with newspaper, but it carried over for any paper we had... tissues, toilet paper, mail, and whatever we had on the table. The possibilities for the destruction he wrought were endless.

We tried taking him to the park a few times. Rebel had loved the park, and we thought Tucker would too. He did... but with that pure bloodline of his, his instincts for hunting were so strong that once let off the leash, if he caught the scent of something, off he went, with us running after him. He probably would have kept on running and never looked back if we hadn't caught up with him. So the park was out for him. That was too bad, because that was our Saturday mornings with Rebel and we looked forward to having another dog that we could let run.

As he grew out of the puppy stage, we trained him to a leash. And boy, did he love to go for his walks. He grew too strong for me to handle, and Jason was usually the one to take charge of him. He would get so excited when he saw the leash, and would tug hard to just go! Once out the door, he would go and go... and think "Boy, this is great... oh wait... I gotta take a dump." And dump he did. Everywhere. You could always tell Tucker's dump. It looked like a mountain lion had been on our street. It grew to be embarrassing take him around the block because you could tell Tucker's dump, and it lasted a long time. He especially loved his walks in the snow. The last snow we had was a few weeks ago, and Tucker loved to run around in it. We would skid and slide, all the while having the time of his life. We loved him for it.

The 4th of July and New Year's Eve were a special time for Tucker. He loved bottle rockets and would run circles around them and try to catch them. I think he might have gotten singed by one once, but that didn't damper his enthusiasm for them. He barked and ran around and around. We took a video that showed how crazy he was during those times. We laughed at him, but we loved him all the same.



Tucker's backyard was his world to him. Safe within its confines, he could run and chase squirrels up a tree. The problem was that he would see a squirrel run up into a tree, and for three days afterward, that was where he would first run to when we let him outside. He would look for that darned squirrel and bark his fool head off. After the three days, we would chide him for it and he would finally realize that the squirrel had long since gone. He was stupid that way, but we loved him for it.

There were times when Tucker would get out of the backyard. He grew to be so strong, he would break the boards in the fence. Jason had a tough time keeping up with the broken boards sometimes. And when Tucker couldn't break them, he would dig out. Once he got stuck in the fence and we knew there was something wrong when we heard a loud crack and a howl. We went out to find him stuck halfway in and halfway out of the yard. We called him stupid a lot... but we loved him anyway.

Tucker was the only dog in our house until Gizmo wandered up the driveway one day and decided to stay. Tucker had a new toy! He would play with Giz and put him down on the ground with one push of his paw. He never hurt Gizmo, but sometimes when he was jealous, he would stick his big nose under Gizmo's butt and lift him off the ground. Tucker was especially jealous when Gizmo got a bath and he didn't. He "sludged" him until he was dirty. "Sludging" was how Tucker licked us. He didn't give nice clean kisses, but sludges. I don't know how many times I had to change clothes because I was obviously sludged by Tucker. I would get irritated by it, but I knew that he loved me and the feeling was mutual.

When Tucker was 6 years old, he still thought he was a puppy, until Rocky came along. Rocky found Tucker to be a great playmate, and Tucker quickly found out he was no longer a puppy. Rocky would grab hold of his neck and not let go. Round and round they would go in the backyard, and they got into lots of trouble together. The two were famous friends and loved to play. Rocky would instigate him into doing things he would normally not do. I don't think Tucker knew he was doing something wrong until I would come into the dining room and find both of them on the floor, chewing the heads off my Christmas tree angels. I wish I had a video of it. I found him with an angel between his paws, chewing once, twice, and then stopped with the angel in his mouth and looked up at me. Busted! It wasn't the last time the two would do something like that. I was angry at the time, but it makes for a funny memory and I love him for it.

Tucker had the most beautiful howl I had ever heard. And the most annoying when he got going and wouldn't stop. But we knew that as long as Tucker was around, he would let nothing and no one into the backyard or the house. He was fierce about protecting his home, and woe to anyone who came to the front door. They had to contend with Tucker at the window, and we couldn't open the door, because he wanted to make sure we were protected. He never bit anyone that I know of, but just the same, this was HIS house and he was going to rule it. No one ever came inside. I felt safe with Tucker here and loved him for it.

We were greeted every morning by Tucker's trademark "Roo", telling us "Good Morning! Time to go out! Time to eat! Time to play!" I remember one day when I was just coming home and heard him rooing at me outside the door. I said "Tucker!" and he went "ruh". It was so funny, but so characteristic of him to recognize my voice. As he started to get older, Tucker loved to sleep on Jason's bed. At first, Jason would kick him off. But after a while, he just let him sleep there, unhindered by the little ones who loved to jump on him. He loved Jason's bed, and he loved the loveseat in the living room with his afghan on it. We didn't mind him sleeping there. He'd earned it.

Mealtime for Tucker consisted of eating everything we gave him and everything he could get from the other dogs. It's safe to say that he ate about three cans of dog food daily, and all the kibble he could get. He was a tank. He grew to be the strongest dog I'd ever had. Not bad for the runt of the litter. But Tucker started to slow down in the last year, and it he was about to take a turn that none of us expected.

One morning we awoke to hear Tucker crying out in pain. We ran out of our bedrooms to see him lying on the padded bed in the hallway, trying to get up, but in obvious pain. We helped him up and got him outside. Over the next few days, the strength in his hind legs gave out, not strong enough to hold his 72 pounds. We took him to the vet and was told that he had a ruptured disk and had to be put down or have $3000 surgery. I didn't believe it and we took him home with steroids. The steroids worked for the first few days and then he got worse. I took him back in to the vet, who put him on massive painkillers and steroids. He wanted to keep Tucker for a few days. I slept peacefully that night, knowing that Tucker was in good hands. Or so I thought.

I made a surprise visit the next day to find Tucker in the worst possible conditions. He had been heavily sedated (of which I didn't approve) and in a cement cell with only a small blanket for warmth. They had not given him our clothes, his pillow, his blanket or his ball for comfort. They had catheterized him, which I also did not approve. I took him out of there immediately and brought him home, where I knew he would be well cared for 24/7. And he was. He was in far better comfort at home and he loved being there. But he couldn't walk... he couldn't run... he couldn't even get up. We had to carry him outside to potty, and had to tend to his every need. Eventually, he couldn't hold his potty anymore and I knew we were going to have to make a decision soon.

On Sunday, February 28, 2011, we knew he couldn't take anymore. It was a family decision to put Tucker out of his pain. Tucker said goodbye to all of us one at a time, by licking our faces or hands. We cried with him, but knew that he was at the point of no return. We found a wonderful emergency vet, who was kind to both Tucker and us. Steve and I told them to give Tucker a sedative so he wouldn't be in pain when he died. But he knew I was with him, because when I talked to him, he blinked hard and shivered a bit. Tucker passed very peacefully at 11:55am and our lives are forever changed.

The house seems so empty now. Even with 4 dogs and 4 cats, there is no commanding presence like Tucker. It will take us a long time to come to terms with him not being here. He enriched our lives so much, that it's hard to know what to do without all the love he gave us. He will be forever missed. We are picking up his ashes on Wednesday, and we will have him back with us, but it won't be the same. We will always miss his "Roo". We will miss calling him "Moron". But most of all, we will miss his kisses. Jason keeps his afghan on his bed. Tucker was a smell, and the afghan smells just like him. What a great dog. Our own Marley.

To those that understand about dogs, thank you. For those that don't... for those that say this is the reason they don't have dogs, because it hurts so much when they leave us, I say this... how empty your life must be. Tucker enriched our lives so very much. We are better people for having him as part of our family. Yes, it hurts that he's gone, but he lived. My, how he lived! He was happy and loved. He had all the love he could ever want for, and he gave as much in return. I'm gonna miss that old boy. I miss him already.



Nazdrovie'

Paczki Puta, Tucker's Mom

Farewell to Our Gidget, My Little Love and My Life

How in the world do you say goodbye to someone as sweet as my baby girl... There have been too many losses this year, but none more devastating to me than the loss of Gidget. My poor baby... my heart is irretrievably shattered. I can't even look at her picture without sobbing. She was such a good girl.

Gidget was 6 years old when she came to us 3 years ago. Was it really only 3 years ago? Seems like she was always with us... and it seems such a short time as well. Gidget was a puppymill rescue. I saw her little face on the internet and fell in love with her immediately. Steve and I drove an hour and a half through a monsoon to get her from the Corinth-Alcorn County Humane Shelter. I knew she was a gem... and she was. They called her Noelle, but she never had a name, so she took to the name Gidget very easily.

The poor dear was strutting around her cage like a showdog when we walked in... or so we thought. We found out later that she was terrified of thunderstorms, by how she acted during them. She would scramble around, trying to find a place to hide, even if it meant walking on my head. It was annoying, but understandable since she spent her first 6 years in a cage outside. She needn't have worried... I'd never have left her in the elements, but I couldn't get that across to her. Anyway, there she was, strutting around in that cage. She was so tired out and frightened that she slept almost all the way home. When we got her home, we opened the cage door and let her out. The little darling ran around on her butt in circles because she didn't know that her world was bigger than a cage. Gradually she began to explore her world, always scampering back to me for comfort. We put her up on the couch, but she didn't have enough strength in her hind legs to jump down, so we got her some stairs. She was always going up and down those stairs to be wherever I was. If I moved to the bedroom, there she was. If I went to the bathroom, she was right behind me. I would put up a finger and say "I'll be right back", but she still followed me wherever I went. I got used to it and would wait to hear the jingle of her tags outside the bathroom door. I'd open it and say "You want to come in?" The answer was ALWAYS yes. She would just sit on the rug and wait patiently for me to be done before we left the room.

Gidget didn't make much noise when she first came home. As she grew stronger and more confident, she would bark a little, going "Bur... bur... bururururur..." Her eyes grew bright and her legs got strong. She would go for walks on a leash, always trying to keep up with Gizmo. What a darling she was... she had a habit of pottying on the floor, so I took it upon myself to help her a little in the past couple of months. I would take her outside and tell her to make potty. When she squatted, I would make a big fuss saying "OH GOOD POTTY!!! Such a good girl! Big potty! Yayyyyyy!!!" and I clapped like a fool. She loved it.

What else did she love... tater tots with cheese... treats... even the pill pockets I had to use to get her to take her medication once we found out she had a heart murmur. She had started coughing all night long and I took her to the vet to find out the cause. That's what it was. So she went on a medication regimen and I made sure she got her medicine every morning and night. I even made up her pill pockets in advance if we were going out of town. She always had plenty of food, water, fresh air and sunshine. She had toys to play with, and a wonderful playmate in Gizmo. She loved to give kisses... and I miss those kisses. She had a mommy who loved her beyond comprehension.

She loved to run through the house. It was so funny watching this little dog that used to run around on her butt hauling ass throughout the house. Steve used to call her a runaway featherduster because her tail was so bushy and it went everywhere when she ran. She really hauled too! It was adorable to watch. And I loved making her happy.

She got really weak in the last couple of weeks and started looking like something was really wrong. She would put her nose up in the air and her eyes were really wide. She had two episodes... one a couple of weeks ago (from which she recovered) and then one the day before she died. She had a rough night that last night. Her cough was weak and she wouldn't settle down. She still had that strange look on her face. The next evening, Sunday December 19, 2010, she was lying next to me on the couch like she had done so many times before, and I told Steve I wanted a picture of her in her Santa outfit. He fumbled around a bit and I said to hurry before she dies. We took two pictures... the last one with Gizmo in it as well. After the camera flashed, she pushed away from me with her hind legs, as if to get away. I eased her on the cedar chest, saw for a split second that she looked at me, and then she collapsed. I watched as her tiny body struggled to live, although I told Steve and the boys that she was dying and to get my stethoscope. Listening to her brave little heart told me the story. Her heartbeat was faint... then I heard BUMP BUMP BUMP... then sinus rhythm, which was impossible because she had stopped breathing by then. I gave her two little breaths to ease the transition. Her heart just slowed and stopped. I knew she was already gone before I heard her heart stop. All the while, I whispered "Go now... Go... go home... don't worry about me...". She literally jumped out of my arms and into the arms of God.

We buried her in the backyard next to Shelby. It seemed fitting. She was still warm when I laid her to rest. I had to put her in... I couldn't just let her lie in the house... the rest of our pets were upset. Now I wear her collar around my wrist and can't seem to take it off. I don't know what I'm going to do without her. She was here for such a short time... and yet she was my whole world. I will always love you, Gidget. You made such an impact on me. You made me a better person. I know it was your time, but I wasn't ready yet. Please wait up. I'll be along shortly. I love you. Always, Mommy.

Na zdrowie'

Paczki Puta

UPDATE: Steve just reminded me at our Christmas Eve dinner how Gidget would wake up every morning just as if it was Christmas every day. That's a thought I'm going to take with me forever.

CHRISTMAS MORNING: Those we love sometimes pass beyond our present sight,
Leave us and the world we know without their radiant light.
But we know that like a candle their lovely light will shine,
To brighten up another place more perfect, more divine.
Merry Christmas Gidgie, my little love.
I love you and miss you. Mommy

DECEMBER 27, 2010:
It's been a whole week... don't know how I've gone this long without you. I woke up this morning, expecting to pick you up, take you outside and watch you stretch. I loved watching you stretch when you woke up. It was as if you were saying "Ahhhh... this feel so good!" Every morning was Christmas morning to you and I loved you every single minute. Last night I was remembering taking you for your walks, and you would have to check out every place that Gizmo pottied. You tried to potty in the same places that he did. He misses you as much as I do. I'm watching for your sweet spirit to come back, Gidgie. We all are. Love, Mommy.

Saying Goodbye to a Dear Friend, Our Beloved Shelby

Our dear darling kitty was put down yesterday. She passed away at 3:51pm on October 18, 2010. Although it is a time for grieving, I want to remember Shelby with all the joy she gave us.

Shelby came to us through the Humane Society, just a few short weeks after we had to put our older cat, Ginger, down. At first, I brought home a white cat with black spots and named her Lexie. Lexie was playful, and we needed to have a healthy, playful cat in the house after tending to Ginger's ailing body for so long. The mood in the house lightened a little, but Steve was still suffering Ginger's loss, so I went back to the Humane Society looking for a brown tabby to bring home.

Once at the Humane Society, I went to the cats and saw a big cage with about 10 cats in it. There were several tabbies, and for some reason, this little, very thin cat stole my heart. They called her "Twiggy" there because she was so thin. She had a small head with big round eyes that looked a little startled when you looked at her. She had lived on the street, which was why she was so thin. I took to her immediately and named her "Shelby" right there on the spot, vowing that she would have a new life to go with her new name, and never have to forage for food again.

When I brought Shelby home, I let her out of the carrier, and she ventured out very cautiously. Lexie came bounding over to her and began to lick her up one side and down the other. Lexie was thrilled to see her. They got along famously and became great friends. Steve came home from work to see a brown tabby, just like Ginger, except for the long hair on the tail. He took Shelby in his lap, sat down in his recliner, and seemed to be more comforted now that there was a brown tabby in the house again.

Shelby went on to grow and eat as if she would never see food again. She spent many hours at the table, begging for scraps, and there were many times when she would tap Steve on the back as he was eating, as if to say "Hey! Don't forget about me!" Steve told me last night of the times when my back was turned, when he would say, "Shelby! High Five!" and she would raise her paw up to touch his hand. She would "bark" at birds she saw out the window, but when we let her into the backyard, she would skitter toward the door, afraid she would be left on the street again. Her trips to the backyard were infrequent because I didn't want her to be afraid.

Shelby loved Thanksgiving and was always in attendance when I was cutting up the bird. She got her fair share of the little pieces and loved every single minute of it. She would follow Jason when he had cereal, as she knew he would put his bowl down for her, with the last bit of his milk in it. She lapped it up eagerly. Shelby grew to 20 pounds, and we were happy to see her enjoy herself so much. At one point, we started calling her "Speed Bump" because she was so big and laid in what seemed like the middle of everything.

Jason in particular became very close to Shelby when she got big. It seemed to him that we were all ignoring Shelby because of her size, and in part, he was right. But whatever the reason, he got very close to her and she knew and loved him well. Jason would lie down on the floor next to her, and she would reach her paws out to touch him on the head. She purred her loudest purr whenever he was around her. You could hear her purr across the house. It was obvious that she loved him as much as he loved her. Shelby would find solace during a thunderstorm under Jason's bed, and as much as we didn't want to admit it, Shelby was definitely Jason's cat. They had a bond closer than I've ever seen with any of our animals, and they were best friends.

In the last couple of years, Shelby had started to pee in the laundry room but not in the cat box. We thought maybe it was because the cat box was dirty, and made every effort to clean it more often. But then she started peeing in more areas of the house and it became necessary to do away with the carpeting to help make cleanup easier. She began to lay in the cat box for no apparent reason. It was obvious that Shelby was suffering from kidney disease, just as Ginger had.

Shelby had started to deteriorate a little at a time until the last two weeks. Then her descent was rapid and could not be stopped, no matter how much love we gave her. She was drinking copious amounts of water, but began to refuse food. We gave her whatever we thought she would eat, and began to lace her water with cranberry juice and Gatorade to keep some electrolytes in her rapidly thinning body. When she started to refuse even the foods she loved, we knew she was nearing her end.

When Ginger was dying, we tried to keep her alive through force-feeding. After she was gone, I swore I would never do that to an animal again. However, this past week, it became obvious that Shelby was refusing food, and I didn't want her to die of starvation. I made that promise when I adopted her... that she would never want for food again. Jason and I began to give her syringes of very soft cat food, the kind the vet said they would give to very sick animals when they refused everything else. It didn't matter. Shelby was too far gone and we couldn't get her strong again, so we took her out into the backyard to let her lay in the sun, while we petted her and talked to her, knowing we had to make a very painful decision.

Shelby was stretched out on the grass, and her breathing became shallow. I told Jason that she was going. We kept petting her and told her it was okay to go and that we would always love her. But Shelby wouldn't let go. It was Jason who made that courageous decision, and I'm so glad he did. I couldn't do it. When Ginger was dying, I knew it was time. When Rebel was dying, I knew it was time. This time, it was Jason that knew. He saw in her eyes that she couldn't take any more pain. Shelby was suffering, and as much as I didn't want to admit it, we had to let her go.

Jason called Steve at work, who came home immediately to spend a few more moments with our beloved Shelby. A call was made to Dr. Pearce, who said they would wait for us to come. During the ride to the vet, Shelby's breathing was extremely shallow and her eyes indicated there was no one home. Steve thought she wouldn't even make the trip to the vet. But, fighter that she was, Shelby just wouldn't give up. We took her in and I held her as her breathing stopped. It didn't take long. The injection wasn't even complete when it stopped. She was finally out of pain and our pain began.

We have all cried for Shelby. We cried for ourselves. We cried for the pain she suffered, and we cried for the joy she gave us that we will never have again. We brought her back to the home she loved, to place her in a special spot in our backyard. We placed landscape stones on top of her shallow grave and will put special paving stones and a cement planter there to mark her spot. Ginger is buried nearby, as are our canaries and the gerbils we loved. We have been readying the house to be sold as soon as I finish school, but I'm not in as much of a hurry now. I would have to leave Shelby, and I'm not ready to do that just yet.

We won't be getting another brown tabby to take Shelby's place. No one could take her place. She was one of a kind... the most gentle soul I have ever known. We have 4 dogs and 3 other cats to love and learn from, and we know that we will have to know this pain another 7 times. Even as we feel the pain now, it would be wrong to close off our hearts to try and protect it from the pain to come.

My darling Shelby... if love could have saved you, you would have lived forever. Now you live forever on the other side. Wait for us, Shelby. We'll catch up with you. We'll love you forever... until we see you again.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

New Blacktop and Memories from Oglesby

The City of Memphis did a wonderful thing recently, one of the few things for which I have to give them kudos. They constructed a new addition to the Greenway, which my family and I love to ride our bikes on when the weather and our schedules cooperate. This new addition supposedly stretches from Germantown to Midtown Memphis, which is quite a haul. It backs up to our house, a mere 4 blocks away, so you know we have to take advantage of it!

Steve and I had ridden the trail a few nights ago, and I was really pooped from a long day of studying. (Funny how using your brainpower really CAN wear you out!) We rode, but not as far as I wanted to, because I wanted to make sure I could make it back. I wanted to go out riding yesterday and no one would go with me. So today, faced with the same situation and beautiful temperatures outside, I went alone.

But I wasn't alone. Even though the trail is not "officially" open until construction is complete, it was riddled with bikers, runners, walkers, and occasionally a biker who toted a double stroller on the back of his bike. I smiled as I passed them, gave them a chipper "Good Morning!" and kept going. Alone with my thoughts, as I smelled the new tar laid on the asphalt, it brought me back to when my birth family and I lived on Oglesby Avenue in Calumet City, Illinois, in a much simpler time.

It was a lone block of starter homes, all of them with 3 bedrooms, one bath, living room, kitchen and a basement. Everyone knew all their neighbors, and even if you didn't quite see eye to eye, you still lived together in relative peace and harmony. I loved living there, with the trees in the front and back yards and nothing but prairie behind our backyard. We spent many a day running and playing in the prairie, but one of our greatest joys was riding our bikes up and down Oglesby (and occasionally to a different street). My mother always had a fit when she found out that I would venture off Oglesby and go to visit my cousins on Bensley or my great aunt Evelyn on Clyde. We would also visit what we called "The Little Store", which was about 5 or 6 blocks away from home, and mostly we went there to turn in pop bottles for the 2 cents we would receive. We never brought home the money, but spent it on penny candy or a new bottle of pop, should we have returned enough bottles to get a free one! I loved those days of freedom. When I rode my bike, I felt like I could fly!

I didn't always have a bike. I wanted one, but my parents said I had to learn to ride before they would get me one. HUH? Let me get this straight... I have to learn to ride a bike which I don't have before you will get me a bike to ride??? My parents were not known for their logic. Anyway, a kind neighbor let me use her bike to learn on (thank you Tammy!) and learn I did! I showed my parents one day and then the next Christmas, Santa Claus brought me a brand new sparkling teal bike! How did he know? *wink* Anyway, I rode that bike whenever I had the chance. I rode it everywhere except school, which was a lot farther away than The Little Store.

One day, we found out that the village was blacktopping an extension of Oglesby, which would take you from Dolton Road/State Street to Sibley Boulevard. Our block would be extended by two whole blocks! It seemed like the world to me, and my brother Wayne pledged to ride that blacktop until he had put 5 miles on it. Well, I don't know if he actually counted the blocks he rode, but I know that the new blacktop had bikes on it all the time. In those days, there was no such thing as a 10-speed or God-forbid, a 16-speed. You had several speeds to choose from, and you got to them by pedaling faster and faster. All bikes were the same except the boys had a bar across theirs and the girls didn't, which makes absolutely no sense at all considering the boys have body parts that can be easily damaged by coming in contact with that crossbar. But I digress. I rode and rode my bike up and down that blacktop, and think it's a shame that this younger generation doesn't know the freedom that we had in those days.

As I took this trip down memory lane this morning, I realized my legs were getting a bit tired and wondered about how far I had gone. I went past the Wolf River, past I-240 and under another viaduct, which I think was White Station Road. I went a bit further, which I estimated to be around Mendenhall. When I added it all up, it came to about 5 miles one way and 5 miles back. I was gone for an hour and burned 931 desperately needed calories, but I didn't notice on the trail. All I noticed was the sun, the wind, the quiet and the green around me. Yes, life can be good! And somewhere in the other realm, Wayne is smiling.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

One Week Down

Last night I completed my first week at college! Wow... I didn't know exactly how crazy I was for taking on so many class hours this semester. I am taking a total of 17 hours, in order to complete my bachelors degree in 3 years. To all the naysayers... Oh YES I CAN! I'm on top of my work and have another 3 days off this weekend to get ahead. I've got it all planned out, and barring any complications, I should be ahead of the game all semester.

I decided to take a concentration of Physics, Anatomy & Physiology, Medical Terminology, Psychology and English Composition. Next semester, I'm going with A&P II, English Comp II, History, Music Appreciation and... and... um... I don't know what else! OH! College Algebra! If I make it through this semester, I'll take another 17 hours next semester and that will give me 34 hours at the end of my first year instead of 27, and that cuts out almost an entire semester of classes after completion of my AAS.

In case anyone is wondering, I'm going into Physical Therapy. Do I think I can do it? Hell, YEAH! I do! I'm juggling a lot right now... college, home, taking care of my health and hopefully work if I can get a decent part-time gig at a PT clinic. If I can't get a paying gig, I'll do a little volunteer work to get my name in the mix. But yes, I can! I'm doing it. Gonna fly now! Flying high now! I'm a Pluskota. I'm a scrapper!

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

Goodbye, Norma Jean

Sounds like a song, doesn't it? It is, but is also what I had to say earlier this week when my sister (in-law) ended her battle with ovarian cancer. She was in her second phase of chemo and had just received the last dose. It was that last dose that killed her, not the disease.

Norma was a tiny little thing for most of her life, interested in health and wellness. She spent most of her years as a vegetarian, and for two years, I followed her lead and then decided that I liked meat, so abandoned that lifestyle. In retrospect, maybe it wasn't a bad idea to go back to meat. Norma's body developed some allergic reactions to the foods she was accustomed to eating and had to take meat into her nutrition plan later in life. I'm not sure, but my uneducated mind says that a change of that kind is harsh on the body. Who knows what happened. All I know is that her body started to reject her usual lifestyle and she had to eat meat. Then all of a sudden, she had an "unwelcome visitor" (her words) that led to an emergency room visit and removal of 8 liters of fluid from a tumor that was pissed. Chemo to shrink the tumor followed, and then surgery for removal of it. The doctor said he couldn't get all of it and additional chemo should take care of it. Boy, did it. It killed her.

Goodbye, Norma Jean. I wish we had longer together. I wish we had taken that fishing trip that you and Bob didn't want to go on. LOL! I wish we had done more things together. We were so different, you and I. You were the country girl who went to the city. I was the city girl who loved to get her hands dirty in the country. But somehow we got along. There was a period of time when we didn't speak, but we came back together in the final years of your life. I am grateful for that. I don't know how I'm gonna do the next 30 years without you... I haven't spend ONE hour since your passing when I haven't thought of something I wanted to share with you. Sometimes sisters-in-law are closer than sisters. We were. And I will always be thankful for it.

Yes, I will take care of Michele for you. That's a given. She can come to me for anything and I will be there. The same for Darrell. I think they need us now more than ever. We're here. We're family.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

All We Are Saying... Is Give Peace A Chance!

Family in disarray... again. It seems it always happens to this family. I have to wonder if it happens in others. He said, she said, he did, she didn't... please stop!

Everyone thinks they're right. Everyone is wrong. Dead wrong. You know how I know? Because everyone can't be right. Posting expletives and derogatory comments on Facebook for the world to see is wrong. You want to have an argument, but you want to let the rest of the world see your anger. I get that. So start a blog. Write letters. Pick up the phone. It's so easy to write things and then say "But that's not what I meant" or "I was just reacting to what was said to me". Let me tell you folks... you're all wrong.

"Cuss words are just WORDS", I was told. Words are powerful. They wound deeply. What you say to someone matters. What you write matters even more. Didn't you ever hear that if you write a letter of complaint (or praise) to a company, you will receive a response, even though you might not get one from a phone call or email? It's true. The written word... more powerful than a sword to cut people to ribbons. More than one person is at fault here. Everyone needs to take a step back, take a breath and then give each other some space to heal. The reason I took people off my list is so I don't have to read the garbage anymore. You are what you read. Garbage in, garbage out. I choose not to have garbage go in.

Now... for those of you who, like me, desire peace... And this goes for my siblings too...

We are painting the rock on August 6th and going for a beer afterwards. You already know where. If you want peace or just to open communication, be there. If you don't, then stay away and let us have our time. The choice is yours. We are going to heal, with you or without you. Bring paint.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

UPDATE 10:00pm: Since no one has the intention of stopping their ludicrous behavior, forget coming to the rock. You stay in your world and I'll stay in mine. Deal?

Get Off Your Butt and Start Moving!!!

These are my instructions to myself this morning. I've spent way too much time waiting for myself to get moving. Sound familiar?

I'm usually a doer, but lately have found myself waiting. I hate to wait. It's like the kiss of death. We ordered our flooring almost 2 weeks ago, and I'm itching to get started. Our dining room and front hallway have been sitting naked for 2 those 2 weeks, but we've had no choice. The carpeting and its nasty smell HAD to go, so we have had naked concrete. We have 1000 square feet of wood coming and I can't wait! Grrrr... I hate waiting.

Another way I have had to kick myself in the rear is my hatred of cardio exercise. I absolutely hate it. But nothing positive is going to happen in my health unless I start... so I got on the ellyptical a few minutes ago. I'll get back on it every hour or so for the rest of the day and do between 3 and 5 minutes each time. Hey, it's a start. With the new floor in the gym complete, and insulation about to go up, I have to start practicing what I preach. The trouble is, the ellyptical is in the office, which is crammed full of what I had in the dining room. I thought I would be done with the floor by now and everything would go back to "better than" normal. Since it hasn't happened that way, I cleared some space and got on the ellyptical anyway. Three minutes. Shameful. I'll do better in an hour or so.

In the meantime, I've got some other things to do. I have to work on more paperwork for the next grant for school, study and workup the next workout. I also have a couple of gift cards to send out for, order a few items of clothing, look at insurance garbage, and and and... Oh good grief. Can I just go back to bed now?

Nasdrowie'

Paczki Puta

It Is What It Is

I find it amazing... that people who claim they want nothing to do with me talk so much about me behind my back. Maybe it's supposed to hurt my feelings, but it doesn't. My siblings have always been a bunch of backstabbers. If they ever looked in the mirror, they probably still wouldn't see it. But it's perfectly whatever. They have to deal with themselves, I don't. They are the ones who will develop cancer, I won't. I am perfectly at peace. However, there are others that I care very much about that aren't.

To those people I want to say this... find peace. The reason I have so many people on my block list is because I seek peace. If someone brings garbage in my life, it's up to me to decide if I let the garbage stay. Generally, I don't. So my block list is a mile long. A few people have recently made my illustrious block list and I would like to elaborate on it a little.

One of my cousins made my list yesterday. I also blocked his wife and daughter, but not because they are related to him. I make it a policy of mine to not allow someone to be able to check up on what I'm doing, what I'm writing, etc., once they've been blocked. Liz, you and Maggie are great people, and this was not a slam against you. It's merely me covering all bases, just like I've always done. I don't even care that this cousin is particularly pompous and likes to spread it around. What bothered me for a split second was that he actually thought he had a perfect right to do and say whatever he wanted to, even though the issue in question was none of his business. Let me tell you right now... BUTT OUT!!! Having a big degree doesn't make you a big person. It only makes you more educated. You are no better than anyone else. But YOU think you are. Personally, I had nothing against you until the other day, but I was watching you closely because of what I had been told previously. Yesterday was the perfect time to block you from my list because you proved out what other people had told me.

Now... as for a couple others... Joe, you are not my brother. You were wrong when you said we cannot pick our family. I have done so. I pick the people with whom I will share my life. If you ever got over yourself, you'd be faced with a reality you're just not ready for. So go... live on... and find peace. I don't care if you talk about me like you did today. You rarely cross my mind anymore. When I came back from my father's funeral, the first thing I did after putting down my bags, was to take all pictures of that side of the family and put them away in the attic. I have nothing here to remind me of you. Please know that you are not discussed in our house. We talk about positive things and having a conversation about you is a great waste of my time and energy. My family does not want to know you. So go find peace. We are perfectly fine and at peace here.

If anyone who has made it to my block list ever thinks about calling me, let me tell you right now... please don't. Save yourself the humiliation of being hung up on. No one here wants to talk to you. Take it to the bank. We have said all we ever have to say to you. If I wanted you in my life, you would be in it. I have gone my own way and am happy having done so. And if you think otherwise, you are deluding yourself. If and when my family moves north, we have no intention of seeing you or socializing with you. We are merely opening another chapter in our lives.

Life goes on, folks. It may not have gone the way you or I wanted, but it is what it is. I'm going to be happy in spite of you, or maybe because of you. But whatever... you are just a footnote in my life. My family is my life. People like Steve, Jason, Rhys, Dennis, Tracy, Aunt Pat, Uncle Jerry are my family. They've earned it. What have the rest of you done?

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

Bringing It

Now that I'm back in town, it's time to get back to work on improving my health. I have decided to kick it up a notch and do the impossible, which is to get into good enough shape to feel the way I did when I was young. What a challenge the aging body is. When I was young, I had to deal with the changes brought by puberty and hated the monthly bill when it came due. But now that menopause has claimed my body and nothing works the way it used to, I have been investigating ways of improving my health and quality of life.

Not being able to do my weight training during the winter (due to extreme cold in my gym... which is on my list of things to correct), I started walking at the campus near our house, got an ellyptical and a training program called P90X. Okayyyyyyyyyy... so maybe I bit off more than I could chew here. But I'm gonna try it. I'm on Day Four and hurt in places I never knew existed. I have worked out for years, and conventional programs don't even come close to what I'm doing now. This program is extremely intense (hence the "X" in the name) and is definitely not for anyone with any kind of chronic injuries or illnesses. I probably shouldn't be doing it either, but I figure if I don't try it, I may never progress beyond what I was able to do on my own. I'm learning how very difficult this is for someone my age and body composition.

So... this program is heavy on pull-ups. I can't do a single one. How embarrassing. Fortunately, I'm not failing in front of anyone I don't know. My boys are taking turns making sure I'm not doing something stupid and overdoing it. Case in point... on Day Two I decided to try the Ab Ripper workout. Jay sat down to babysit me, and after I started it, he got this look on his face that clearly said "This is not going to end well." Boy, oh boy... It's 15 minutes of pure rip and I could only do 10. Again, embarrassing. This particular session is scheduled to be done after an upper body session, which I had done the day before. Oh. You mean RIGHT after it. I couldn't even MOVE my arms after the upper body workout. How was I supposed to work the abs?

So I did what I could. I'm taking this first week or even two weeks to get familiar with the program and what kind of equipment to use, as well as familiarize myself with the nutrition aspect of the program. I have ordered a pull-up bar and some other necessities for this program, and can't wait until they arrive. For those of you who, like me, can't do a single pull-up, you can use a chair at first to get you up to the bar and steady you as you build the upper musculature necessary for this exercise. I am giving myself a drop-dead date of April 1 to begin the entire program in earnest.

Can I do it? I'm going to go out on a limb and say yes. I've come a very long way from where I was 18 months ago. At that time, I could barely walk and had a bodyfat composition of 44.89%. Today I'm not only walking, but pushing it, and bodyfat has gone down a whopping 11%. I've got a long way to go, but it's a journey. Do I have a goal? Sure. I want to be strong, healthy and flexible and at 20% bodyfat. Did I give myself a date to do it by? Nope. But I'll settle for a 1 or 2% drop in bodyfat per month. At that rate, in another year I will either have reached or almost reached that goal. Just gotta keep bringing it. Film at 11.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

Now Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

Since my post yesterday (which was not supposed to get pulled to FB), I've received a lot of hate mail and been dropped by my cousin, or my "so-called cousin" (his words, not mine), so... am making some changes.

It's long been a rule of mine that when I'm dropped from someone's friend list, I block that person so we may go our separate ways and not check back in to see what the person is doing, writing, etc. I am keeping with that. But now I am also blocking their immediate family members, especially since I read that this particular person is telling his daughters of how he didn't want them affected by the "poison" that I write. So, I have decided to make it easier on them and block them.

What does that mean for the future and for the vacation we have planned for July? Right now I am not planning on going anywhere. I want some privacy, and I am not going on chat, have blocked phone numbers and am generally not answering anyone for a while. I have a family here that needs my attention, and we're going to do the best we can with 4 less people in our family. If more people drop from my list, so be it.

Goodbye, Pete. I hope you find your birth mother and I wish you and your family the best.

We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming. Over and out.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta

Why Suicide Is Stupid

I just got back from a funeral in my hometown and have a few thoughts I'd like to jot down.

My cousin's stepson killed himself last week by hanging himself in a closet. What a waste. This guy had the world at his feet. He was on a full scholarship, had a job, a girlfriend and a family that loved him. But that wasn't enough. He also had friends who adored him. As I watched them in mourning, I thought "What an incredible asshole to wreak this kind of pain on people." There are people who would say he always had a smile on his face, and he wouldn't do this to people. But he did. He went on a drunken tangent, wrote a 4 page letter, posted some goodbyes on Facebook and then checked out. Did he care about all the people who would be affected by his death? So some things didn't go as planned... so you didn't have as good of times as you did as a kid... so you've had some losses in your life. The meaning of life, plain and simple, is to GO ON!

There is no good reason to commit suicide. None. No matter how bad things get, they can always get worse AND if you stick around long enough, they WILL get better! There are enough good people in the world that will listen if you need a shoulder, and if you can't find any of those, there are self-help groups, books and government programs. You learn from it, do what you have to do and make the best of things, no matter what. I come from a long line of very crusty people who went through hell to be in this country and have the best life they could, and most of them lived to a ripe old age. What is it about today's youth that thinks life is too tough and that they have a perfect right to disregard the sanctity of life by killing themselves? What makes them think they have a right to hurt people this way? Live fast, die young, leave a good looking corpse is only a line in a movie. In real life, it hurts people. It leaves an indelible mark on their souls and a hole in their hearts that will never fully heal. Your parents are grieving. Your siblings are grieving. Your friends are grieving. Is this what you wanted? It was the most selfish thing you could ever do.

What an asshole. What an incredible asshole.

My apologies to any of his family or friends who read this. This is not meant to hurt you or destroy your memories of your loved one, but only to express my opinion.

Nazdrowie'

Paczki Puta