Why I'm sick today

Today represents the culmination of a series of events that started over a month ago! I feel absolutely terrible. I have a headache that won't go away. Stiffness in the neck and shoulders. Occasional bouts of vertigo and a general feeling of being ill at ease. In short, I am unwell.

I met with my physician at the end of May. At that time, he approved another 3 month prescription of my medication that I've been taking for anxiety and depression for the past 5 years. I know I've written about it before, but it really has been a major factor in improving my overall quality of life.

That prescription was submitted to the insurance company we switched to at the beginning of the year; Aetna. Within a week, I checked on the status and found that it had been cancelled. Since this wasn't the first change in insurance carriers in the past few years, I figured this was the typical, "we need a pre-authorization" routine.

I contacted my doctor's office and had them resubmit the prescription again.

One week later, I looked online at the status and found it was cancelled again! A bit later, I got a voicemail message saying that I needed to call to find out what was going on. I reached out to the insurance company and was told that the dosage was too high and that they wouldn't approve it.

I was extremely displeased. Why was I being told there was an issue, if there was nothing on my part that I could do to resolve it? Why were they calling me instead of reaching out to my doctor directly? I was then told that there was an appeal process, but that it would have to come from my doctor.

So I contacted my physician once again and asked them for help.

That was two weeks ago. Not only did they submit the appeal, but they asked for a rush processing on it because I was quickly running out of my medication.

Flash forward to today. I have tried to stretch the remaining pills from my last prescription for as long as possible and would very likely be alright if not for the added stressors of this weekend.

By stretching out the time between taking my pills a bit, I can usually keep the withdrawal symptoms to a minimum. Mostly my dreams become very vivid and bizarre. I've had to do this before because it was much better and easier than going into full on withdrawal which is a situation I found myself in a couple years back.

So Friday night, I found a bat in my home after my nap. Between the cat and I, it's a very real possibility that we've come into contact with the animal as it was found on the floor near enough to where I was sleeping. Because my system is in this semi withdrawal stage, you could injure me while I was asleep and it may or may not wake me. If it did, it's very possible, that I would chalk the experience up to part of a dream and return to slumbering.

So here's the situation, I've now got possible rabies exposure and a live bat. I'm able to capture it into a container and I start trying to find out what my next steps are.

Since the three year old cat I adopted in April is very energetic, it's possible he too has been exposed. I need to find out when his rabies vaccination took place. I dig into the paperwork that my ex brought from her friend in May. Uh oh, there's an unused voucher for a rabies vaccination and a note in the adoption agreement that the adopter will take him within 10 days to a vet for a vaccination. This isn't good.

Saturday morning, I take him and the bat to the vet. There, I'm told during the $50 visit that the office won't send the bat off to be tested, I need to contact the department of health. The also tell me that there's no way for them to give the cat a vaccination if he's been exposed. So I've basically gone in, spent money and been given a printout of the same information I've already looked at online.

The remainder of my morning is spent calling around to various places trying to find out what I'm supposed to do. Finally I call the local animal shelter and get animal control to come out and take the bat. They're not sure what the process is for me or my cat, but they will at least take care of the bat.

I've left a message with the department of health because they don't have any sort of emergency service line except to say to call 911 or go to the emergency room. Digging further on their website, I find that if I go to the doctor, they'll have to report to the department of health the next business day as well.

So it looks like my health and that of my cat is now in the hands of whoever is responsible at the department of health. I'm going to save myself the expensive ER copay and wait until Monday. Someone should be contacting me at that time, but nobody seems really sure what's going to happen.

I spend the next several hours digging into what all this means. Here's the conclusions I've been able to make.

• The bat has to be tested. This involves euthanizing the animal and sending it to the state to be examined. There's a specific process for this. The tissue has to be fresh enough that it can be tested. Here's hoping the bat survives the rest of the weekend.
• I probably have to start a rabies post exposure regimen of shots
• My cat will have to be placed into quarantine
• I then have to wait on the results of the rabies test for the bat
• A positive test will mean that my cat will remain in quarantine for the next 180 days with no human or other animal contact. (This is the most stressful part of the whole thing for me as it will have to be at my expense and should he start to show symptoms, I'll have to have him euthanized)
• I have no idea what happens if the test is negative on the bat, likely I'll have to have him vaccinated and risk being fined for not having done so sooner. 
• There's nobody beyond the department of health that knows what the process really looks like

My plans for this weekend were to get my oldest two children's final pieces of clothing in order for the trek this coming weekend. I have one stocking, 2 skirts, an apron, a bonnet, a dozen or so buttons and 2 pairs of pants in need of hemming.

Until I have things in a better position with the cat, I don't really want him around the kids. He's very energetic and has a tendency to play a bit rough. Could he scratch or nip at the kids? Yes. Do I want them exposed as well? NO!

So here's all the stuff going on now:

• I can't fit the skirts or finalize the placement of the buttons until after Monday. I don't know when or how I'm going to get all the clothing done.
• I had to cancel all my meetings on Monday, so I can be available for the DoH.
• I'm terrified of what a 6 month quarantine will do to my cat.
• I'm not thrilled about the expenses I'm about to encounter in dealing with all this. As the typical cost of quarantining an animal at the shelter is $30 for day 1 and $10 each subsequent day. ($1820 for 180 days)
• I heard that mid-August I may have to take my kids for 2 full months while my ex does some out of state training.
• My fiance is supposed to be coming out for a visit mid-September
• I'm facing a series of shots that will likely leave me ineligible to finish the blood donor study I started in May and completely ineligible to donate for over a year.
• I face fines and penalties for the inaction of the cat's previous owner
• I don't want to euthanize another animal. It's been less than 6 months since I lost Mu.
• I feel so badly for the bat. Its done nothing but somehow get into my home, but is to be euthanized.
• My insurance company won't give me the full dosage of the medicine that helps me deal with anxiety and depression
• I am feeling overwhelmed and this is leading to physical manifestations in the form of general disease

I've dealt with more. I've dealt with much harder things. The problem is, that right now, I'm in an already emotionally disoriented state due to the medication.

There's only one party responsible for putting me in this place. That's Aetna.

Today, after 16 years, I had to put my buddy down. I was a complete mess at the vet and had 2 of my daughters with me. I suspected the worst because for days he hadn't been eating, staggering around and crying. All day long he was super lethargic and wouldn't even cuddle on my lap.

His story started when my ex and I were first married. We were just getting our first apartment set up when we found out that my dad was looking for people to take some kittens. My dad had been caring for one of the strays at his auto repair and the mama decided to have her litter in the back of one of the broken down cars.

After delivering her babies, she was rounded up and taken to be spayed, while the "old man who hates cats" proceeded to find homes for all the kits. We were smitten by the beautiful blue eyes shared by one boy and his sister and took them in, despite a no pet policy at our little studio apartment.

It was only a matter of months before we both felt badly about living there and rather than renew our initial lease, we sought a pet friendly home. We moved a bit further south and found a nice 2 bedroom where we could also have a room for our first daughter. There we had a pretty nice setup including a very large closet that served as a nice place to keep the litter out of sight. This whole time, neither of us could figure out what to call these two bundles of energy. It was just him and her.

We were a happy little family until we decided that we needed something a bit larger. We were soon moving onto baby number 3 and both wanted a house. Stupidly, we made the mistake of purchasing a doublewide in a trailer park with a no-cat policy. :(

We were very upset and wound up placing the cats with my sisters. They had a larger home and were able to take them in. It meant we still got to see them once in a while and we knew they were well cared for.

We went on with our lives thinking we were done with these two cats, only to find that when my sister and her husband wanted to find a place to live, they'd be doing so out of a motor home. Certainly not an ideal environment. They tried, but one night his sister got out and never came home.

We also decided to find someplace to settle down and purchased a home in Kentucky. Knowing we were going to be more stable, we decided to take him back. It would be good for us and better for him.

Unbeknownst to me, my sisters, had decided to give him a name. He had packed on the pounds and in homage to the Austin Powers movies, named him Fat Bastard. To the kids and everyone else, they said either Fat Boy or just FB.

This just wouldn't do and so we renamed him Mutah. A name that fit much better and was far cleaner. It also meant that we could just shorten it to Mu.

The car trip out East was a real adventure. We had purchased a harness to put him on as we traveled so that he could get out and walk a bit at the rest stops. He would ride with the kids in the old van, while I would drive the moving truck.

It was our first rest stop on the way to Spokane where we got out and tried the leash for the first time. Never having been really anywhere, the sensory overload was a bit much for Mu. He took into the deeper grass and started pulling at the leash.

I attempted to reign him in and he flipped in the air, twisting right out of the harness. I was able grab hold of him, but he lashed out with claws and teeth, leaving my right arm a mass of scratches and puncture wounds.

I was so upset that when he bolted into the fields around the rest area, I figured it was good riddance.

It was only a short while later that someone backed up the freeway entrance ramp to ask us if we had a cat. He had run through the fields and was waiting at the edge of the road.

The ex loaded up and went to retrieve him. To the great relief of the family.

We figured we couldn't risk another getaway so kept him in the car until we got to Spokane and could purchase a cat carrier.

While doing so, someone mentioned that children's benadryl had a sedative affect on cats. I'm ashamed to admit that we were so frustrated and afraid of how he was handling things, we tried it. He proceeded to drool and bubble red foam for hours all over the white carpets of my ex sister-in-law's home.

Spokane was our last stop inside a building for the rest of the move. We drove across the country stopping at camp areas and pitching a tent. Each night, we pulled him out of the van and loaded him into the tent with us. We constantly worried about anyone opening the tent door and having him run off.

Happily, we didn't have any more issues, he figured out a cozy spot in the van and survived the trip.

Settling into Kentucky proved a challenge for the old boy. Not only did he have more kids to deal with than ever before, that first Christmas, the wife and kids decided I needed a dog. The 18 month old black lab was more animal than he'd ever dealt with before. During that period, his home was our bedroom and his safe spot as far back as possible under our bed.

The dog proved incompatible with the ex and she returned him one day while I was at work. Much to Mu's relief, as he started to finally come out and explore.

Thinking that the home was still missing a pet, the family adopted another cat. She didn't adapt well and Mu, declawed as a baby, couldn't really defend himself. The two never formed any sort of bond and he continued to struggle.

One birthday, I came home to a pair of kittens in the home as well. These two would eventually stay with Mu and I for a while, but ultimately prove too much an emotional and financial strain on me.

It was during all this that I started missing the signs that my "happy home" wasn't so. Divorce soon followed and I took Mu with me for company.

We found a great apartment where he and I would spend his remaining years. For a few months, we tried to have the other two boys here, but it was too much of a toll on me. I was struggling emotionally and my financial resources were strained with my new living arrangement. I had to let them go, but couldn't put him out to pasture.

He grew to be my best bud. I know they don't see us the same, but I think in his eyes, I was just a bigger cat that was okay to be around. He'd greet me at the door each evening, snuggle on the back of my legs, follow me around as I did my chores and chat with me in the mornings as I got ready for work.

I don't know what I would have done had he not been a part of my life. I am so thankful for Mutah. To be honest, I'm a bit scared because tomorrow night will be the first time in a long time that my apartment is completely empty when I get home.

For the better part of 16 years he's been in my family. When his kidney's started to go he hid it so well that we didn't pick up on it until it was too late. Even now the tears haven't stopped. I'm going to miss him so much. I loved that cat.

Embarrassing My Kids

Monday night was another awards ceremony at the school. It's pretty bad when you have children in Elementary, Middle and High School. Seems like you're always at one event or another (or supposed to be at two at the same time).

This night was the promotion night for the 5th grade as they graduated up to Middle School. It was my daughters last night of Elementary school and there were all sorts of awards to be given out.

On a tangential note, I really want to know what's up with the school district being unable to run the HVAC system past 6:30. I would say that 80% of the programs handed out that night were being used for fanning hot faces beaded with sweat. It's getting into the humid season and it was pretty disappointing that, just as they were about to start, the AC that was blowing right over our seats shut off!

After a pomp and circumstance procession, the children were seated and the school administration made a few remarks. Maybe my daughter is just a bit advanced, but when they chose to read from a book, I was disappointed that it was a Curious George piece. Seemed a bit infantile for that age group, but again, maybe my kids are just so far ahead of everyone else...

Anyway, when it came time to hand out awards, I was quite pleased that she got awards for straight A's all year long in a number of subjects. It was even more exciting when they started to read off the children who qualified for the Presidents Academic Excellence Award.

This is no small achievement. It means that not only did she maintain an outstanding grade point average, she also did exceptionally well on the standardized testing. It comes with a certificate and letter from President Obama!

So when they announced her name, I couldn't help myself, I shouted out. The same overwhelming feeling overcame me when they read off her name and handed her the certificate of graduation.

I had my kids seated next to me all embarrassed, I had the people in the row behind me commenting, and even she gave me a kick to the shins later that night after things were over.

Let me explain something though. My personal feeling is that these are huge accomplishments. They represent years of hard work and effort on her part. Other than making sure her homework is finished, I haven't been one of those parents to make sure she got every answer right. This really was all her.

If this had been a baseball game and she hit a home run, no-one would have thought twice about me jumping for joy. If she had just won a tennis match, there wouldn't have been a single comment at my outburst. If she had just finished first at state in swimming, there would have been a crowd of people cheering with me.

If our culture celebrates sporting events with cheerful noise, shouldn't we do so much and more for academic excellence? Sporting victories are short lived, but the things she learns now impact her for the rest of her life. She's learning to succeed in areas that will be of greater benefit when she's in the workplace than any extra curricular activity I can think of.

I am very pleased with my children's performance in school. They're learning so much and working so hard. I'm going to celebrate their accomplishments as victories. Not everyone gets an award for a high GPA in high school, not everyone gets to play in the regional All-Star band and not everyone gets an award from the President. Like it or not, I'm going to continue to stand and shout. I think the shins can take it.

Thoughts on background checks

Let me share something with you. I'm on the email list for Organizing for Action. I'm there because unlike a lot of people I associate with, I voted for Barack Obama, not once, but twice. However, I got an email today that has me really thinking. They wanted me to lend my voice to efforts to require a universal background check.

The beauty of how our political system is supposed to work, is that we don't have to agree with everything. This is definitely a case where I think a background check system is a silly idea at best.

You see, the article they sent had the quote we've all seen so often claiming a majority of Americans and even NRA members support the idea. It struck a nerve.

Here's why, I've bought all sorts of stuff in private sales and not once has anyone inquired into my background other than the common back and forth typical to that sort of transaction. Nobody asked to see my driving record when I bought my cars or van. No-one told me that I couldn't purchase my bow and arrow without providing my name. I didn't have to have my psychological evaluation when I purchased a used set of golf clubs. The other day I bought a knife for my kitchen without anyone or anything checking a database. Yet all of these items have the same lethal potential as a firearm.

What about the silliness of 'every' transaction. Really? I have to do a background check on my kids if I decide to give one of them a gun for their birthday? What about if I decide to purchase one of the guns my dad has, you mean he has to conduct a background check on me? How about my friend and co-worker that has a concealed carry permit, do I need to check him out too? To what point? What is going to be accomplished by all this? If I was worried about any of these people getting guns, I wouldn't be giving or receiving one from them.

Does someone magically stop becoming a threat to society once they purchase a weapon and pass a background check? The newspapers seem to indicate otherwise. People snap; they go bonkers; they do bad things. A check on them at a moment in time really doesn't accurately assess what will happen in the future.

That aside, I'm not afraid of more guns being available and untracked by a lack of background check. Bad people are going to get their hands on guns. Fact of life. Background checks won't change it. The sooner we accept this, the easier we can sleep at night.

How many of us are up at night worried that the guy next door is driving on a suspended license? Do we panic that the car next to us might not be fully paid on his insurance? Have we seen the copy of our pharmacists license to dispense our medication? Did you personally check her out by calling the university listed on your doctor's diploma? Do you ask to see the food handling permit of the person making your fast food order? In school how did you know your teachers were accredited and licensed to teach?

Just because we have a hot button topic, the loss of life due to firearms misuse, doesn't mean that we need to institute a bunch of policies that really aren't going to solve anything. If we're going to chase that rabbit, then let's make sure we go down every other hole of assumption that exists as well. For me, I'd rather assume that the guy asking to buy my gun is legally able to do so. It's a simple thing called trust. I'd much rather be trusted than mistrusted, so I try to treat everyone else the same. Does it backfire? You bet! Does it mean I should stop? NO WAY!

Let's keep private sales private. Let's let trust and good sense do their part. It's easier and doesn't require an act of Congress. Instead, let's focus on fixing our budget and economy.

Mac OS X Lion

I was asked tonight about upgrading to Lion among some other things. Since it might help someone avoid the same mistake, here is what I wrote:

I'll speak about Lion, DON'T

I was having some issues with my machine, so rather than do a complete re-install of Snow Leopard, I upgraded to Lion. It has been a nightmare.

I can't even restart my computer without having to boot into Recovery Mode to run the Disk Utility. I've had horrible memory management issues (meaning it gets really slow). I don't feel like the issues with my system were improved at all.

I have read that a clean install, ie, wipe the hard drive and start over eliminates these problems. Still, there are other things that make this a horrible operating system. Lion eliminates Rosetta, so if you have any older applications, those will no longer work. The toolbars have very poor contrast, it's hard to see what is a button and what is disabled. The scrollbars on the side of many applications auto-hide, meaning you have no idea at times how far down a page or document you are. Important folders, like the Library, are entirely hidden from the user (makes things like adding or removing fonts very hard).

In short, I am dreading having to support anyone running this system as it works right now. I am not a fan at all and will likely be formatting my hard drive and starting over with Snow Leopard this weekend.

UPDATE

I finally found another show stopping but in this pile of dreck known as Lion. The CIFS share from my NexentaStor system at home doesn't mount properly through Finder. I can authenticate and mount the share, but all the permissions are screwed up. I am shown the folder, but told through Finder that I don't have any permissions to view the content.

Now, you wanna know how retarded this system is? If I put it to sleep while connected to the drive, it suddenly allows me to open it and see the contents. But don't dare try to open a folder inside the share, I don't have permission to those apparently. Oh sure, I can get to those by opening the folder from the command line, I can even do everything I need to from there, it's just the Finder that's broken. GRRRRRR!

Frustration with Apple

So this morning I was asked to pull some images off an SD card using my MacBook Pro 15. Now in the past I've had issues using my microSD cards and an adaptor. I always thought that it was just an issue with the adaptor (it's a genuine yum-cha from who knows where). So I never thought too much about the trouble that it gave me.

Imagine my surprise when this name brand SD card gave me the same issues.

Here's what I have to go through to load the things.

• Pray that it's going to work
• Insert card
• Wait to see if the OS recognizes it
• Remove card
• Put it back in, shifting it slightly forward
• Wait again
• Pull it back out again
• Push it into the slot, now more to the back
• Jiggle the card in the slot
• Pray that the card's not hosed now
• Jiggle the card some more
• Repeat any of the above steps until:
• See it pop up in the OS
• Threaten everyone around you to not get close to the computer and literally kill anyone that brushes or touches the card until you're done with what you need to do.

As the contact pins are all in a line across the card, I never suspected that making one work would be such a challenge. Every cheap device I've thrown one at, it's just worked, until I got the Mac. Seriously, I know the motto used to be "Think Different" but why take something that works everyplace else and curse it?

So I've been patiently waiting a few weeks to post these. They were a gift for my fiance's cousin, so I couldn't risk leaking them to the Internet for fear that it would give away the surprise. They've now been received and gifted, so I can finally put them online.

The pattern and book they came from were quite terrible. I really didn't like the way that they were initially supposed to be done, so these have been heavily modified. The ears for example are completely from my head and much taller than the pattern called for.

I've now got requests for pairs for adults. I'm going to have to see how that goes. My initial thought is that I'm going to have to charge through the nose if people want me to come up with an original pattern for an adult foot. Somewhere in the neighborhood of a couple hundred bucks. I don't know, would you pay that much for a pair of slippers? They would be a very limited edition and I'd probably even let the person choose the colors.

More knitting

Today I blogged a couple more knitted pieces onto Men Who Knit. Rather than duplicate the content here, I'll just put up the pictures and a link or two.

An unusual new year's post

So this is going to seem a bit random. I'll start by saying that I sort of have a vested interest in this post. Granted, the pension check I get from Hasbro really doesn't amount to a whole lot each month, but in the name of full disclosure, I did work for them and continue to receive money from them each month.

That said, I was never involved in the production of the toys. I worked for the hobby gaming division, Wizards of the Coast, in a business support role. Hardly a marketing, insider or really anything that would amount to much at all in the grand scheme of things.

This afternoon though, I discovered something really incredible about something they are doing with their Littlest Pet Shop (LPS) line of toys.

My girls are really into the figures and when they got their gift cards to Target from their grandmother, they hounded me to take them shopping. After dragging them beyond the entry way and the dollar value area just immediately inside the store, we made our way back to the toy department.

At this time all the LPS stuff was on sale, so several of my daughters purchased some of the packages and sets. The youngest got one of the boxed sets and was excited about it when we got home, so immediately set about opening it up.

In the current tradition of just about everything, the box was filled with the toys presented against a cardboard and plastic insert. Normally I've found things taped and wire tied into this packaging and so wasn't too surprised when she asked me for help getting everything out.

I was a bit surprised when I found that the wire wraps holding the figures and playset in place were bright pink. Now pink is my favorite color, so I thought it was quite clever to use it in packaging a set designed for little girls. Had it been any other color, I would have dismissed it out of hand, but I set these aside thinking I could easily reuse them.

Fast forward to today. I'm sitting in the living room picking up some of the scattered bits of packaging that seem to keep appearing from nowhere. I know for sure that over the past week, I have had this living room spotless at least 3 times, yet there still seems to be bits of packaging, wrapping paper and other stuff all over the floor. Either the children kept bits back to annoy me, or somehow the stuff is creeping out of the dumpsters and sliding beneath the door back into my home.

Anyway, I find one of the pink ties. I notice as I pick it up, it seems to be wrapped in paper, rather than being a single plastic piece. So I start to peel back the paper layer.

What I uncovered was another layer of paper, which I also proceeded to remove. I did this 2 more times and was left with 4 pieces of pink paper and absolutely NO wire inside. I was amazed!

Whether they made the move to using twisted paper as a cost savings or a greener manufacturing process, I don't know. What I do know is that I'm very impressed. It strikes me as a wonderful way of cutting down on the hassle in recycling and also the annoyance of having another bit of wire to deal with.

When I was removing it from the package, I had no idea it wasn't a wire tie, it had the same structure and feel. Maybe only a bit less rigid. It was very cool and something that I thought worth sharing. It may just be me, but I'm impressed when someone challenges the norm and goes their own way. Coming up with a twisted paper tie to replace the usual wire tie really catches my attention.

I know, sort of goofy that I'd get all excited over the packaging of my daughter's toy, but that's just the way I am. I certainly think it's blog worthy and totally worthy of being my first post of 2011.

Here's hoping everyone else can find a new way to innovate and get excited. Have a happy new year.

Couple more items that I thought I needed to share. The top is a pair of socks I'm particularly proud of. The patter was designed for a much lighter yarn and an adult foot. This has been scaled and resized for my daughter. She loves the socks. I had so much fun with this pattern.

The mittens are a pair I created for when Jen gets here in February. Since she's from Australia, she's never owned a pair of mittens or any real winter clothing. This is going to be my contribution for keeping her from freezing to death. HAHAHA.

Knitwear

I've been told that I need to create a portfolio of the knit items that I've been creating lately. I tend to be pretty daft when it comes to ideas like that, so I've given away a number of items already, that won't be documented. Nevertheless, I do have the blog here and can put a few of the items that I've created in recent weeks as a record of less than idle hands.

The first piece shown here (modeled by yours truly) is a scarf I threw together out of some leftover yarn. The knitting group at the Erlanger library asks that in exchange for the time, you create a scarf to donate to "Scarf It Up" a local charity that distributes warm clothing to those in need. This will be placed in the collection barrel after the next meeting. Wonder if it will go to a UC fan. ;)

Preparations

She sits.

Staring into the mirror she thinks about the day. All morning and afternoon was filled with anticipation and the gala that night was enchanting. She's sure that the memory of this evening will grow sweeter with time.

Even now, in her mind she can see her reflection. Her hair carefully arranged atop her head. The beautiful earrings gently decorating her image. The creamy color placed so gently on her eyes and the full red of her lips. He hadn't exaggerated when he told her that she was stunning, the eyes of all those present seemed to linger a bit longer as she passed. Even the hostess seemed jealous at how much her presence radiated at the event.

If the wishes of young hearts come true, this certainly was hers. And now, at the end of it all here she sits. Staring and remembering. A heavy sigh leaves her mouth.

Slowly she reaches for her brush.

She places the soft bristles into her hair and begins to comb out her tresses. With each pass, she thinks about how nice it felt to be in his arms. If only he could be here now. Would that the brush were his fingers, making gentle waves through each strand. Her silken threads flowing past the smooth strength that was there in his hands as they danced.

Even now, she could remember as he leaned in close during the waltz and told her once more how lovely she looked. If he were here, between passes, he might lean in once more. His warm breath lightly tickling the stray hairs about her ears as he whispers his passion for her.

As she looks up from combing out her hair, she sees her hands. Her delicate fingers still tingling with the electricity caused by his touch. Even more romantic had been the way that he brought the back of her hand to his lips and lightly brushed them there in greeting. Had it been anyone else, that old fashioned greeting might have seemed out of place, but tonight, perfectly charming.

And to think, those same hands had guided her about the dance floor. His hands and arms became extensions of his will, indicating the direction and step she needed to take. There seemed to be no fear to be had there with him leading. 

Was she under his power there on the floor?

No. She remembered how with the merest glance, he had known when she wished to leave the ballroom floor. It was if he was reading her mind, because every moment she seemed about ready to make a suggestion, he was already performing the needed task. It truly was her evening.

Catching her mind wandering as she brushes her hair, she snaps back to her preparations. She has already cleared away the pigments from her face and eyes. Her dress has been carefully arrange back into the closet. Will she ever have the chance to wear it again? She certainly hopes this to be the case.

Her eyes have grown heavy now. With great care, she removes the first of the soft lenses from her pupils. If only those contacts could have captured the imagery from this evening. The soft candle glow at the table, the gay colors that adorned the room. It was all so perfect, it would be a tragedy for time to soften the memory.

Looking at the mirror with the other eye, she notices the color of her eyes and reflects on how dreamily his eyes stared into her own. Once more, she longs to have him here. She could lose herself in his eyes. They were smiling all night long and on more than one occasion, she was certain they flashed with passion and desire.

Placing the last of her evening routine into order, she rises from her seat in front of the mirror. She smiles one last time at the beautiful woman reflected there and slowly turns. One last time, her imagination takes flight and she imagines turning into his arms as he sweeps her off her feet. Placing her gently into bed with a kiss.

The great romance

Time has failed to dim those memories. I still feel every moment, every thrill. There was something so real about that very instant. 

Even after three decades, placing my experience under the microscope of thought, I find the time  before and after fading into blurriness. Yet that razor thin slice of day remains crisp.

Without the burden of responsibility and our own insecurities we celebrated life. Each day was a new adventure and we lusted after all that it brought. Our desire spilled over into our free time and on the playground we explored what little we knew.

Certain things were just given, we didn't question the reasons why. There wasn't any need to do so. In our case, we knew that the boys were supposed to chase the girls.

Was it siblings that put us up to exploring their own fears? Maybe exposure to similar events from media or our observance of the world about. It really didn't matter, it felt more like an instinct, something we knew we had to do.

So I chased and you ran.

I'm sure you could easily outstripped my own pace, yet all too often I found you a hairs breath outside my reach. It must have carried with it as much thrill for you as I experienced when I could almost stretch my arms to gather you in, because it happened frequently.

Finally darting in and about the playground, I managed to catch you. Surely you must have heard my heart leap within my chest. The flood of victory and triumph coursed unrestrained through my small frame.

On wings, together we ducked into the woods as the others looked on. In our innocence and joy, such a hiding place was only necessary to remove ourselves from the jeers of our classmates and the prying eyes of the teacher. Yet our fellows knew, just as we both did what was to come next.

Breathless and now out of site, I nervously placed my arms around your shoulders. Drawing you in, missing were any thoughts of the course of action. Unlike our awkward teenage years, thoughts of looks, bad breath, noses, even eyes, were absent from the situation. It was enough that I liked you and that I had caught you during the game.

Oh what marvelous times, it was simply enough to "like" you. Never in the decades that passed would I feel that emotional freedom. It was loving without the burdens now associated with "love". If asked, I know I would have denied any deeper emotional connection, saying such things were "yucky" but it was the most pure love that I felt for you in that moment. I never wanted to chase another.

So here, with my love, in this wooded spot upon the playground, I found myself holding you. Leaning toward your mouth. You closed your eyes. I don't suppose you remember that, but I do. And in the tenderest way, my lips pressed gently against your own.

There was no extended contact. No impassioned embrace where I held you to me. The instant lingered long enough for me to know you gently kissed me back.

I tasted your lips, still finding the hint of strawberry gloss. I could detect the scent of your shampoo from golden hair. And even the soft brush of your clothing against my hands was sensed.

As we broke away, we stepped back to the reality with giggles of delight. After all, we just kissed and were sure to hear about it for the rest of the afternoon. With the smiling effervescence of youth, you turned on you heel and dashed away.

Then I knew once again the chase was on.

Family

I was sent a video by my mom the other day. It was a "Eulogy" for a deceased husband and it was quite moving. The production value of the piece was outstanding, so I watched all the way to the end to find out more about who made it (hey, sometimes you get lucky and they include credits).

Well the only thing it said at the end was the same as my title for this post. "Family" but it did include a link. http://thinkfamily.sg

So I went to the site not sure what to expect and found that it was the Singapore page dedicated to improving the family unit. I was so delighted to see that they put together such a neat site for what I feel is a spectacular cause. See, to me, family should be the place that we feel loved and safe from the world. I like the idea of promoting togetherness and learning how to better serve one another in our families.

Not to say that people in bad relationships shouldn't leave when necessary and that every family is perfect. See there's this adage about throwing rocks when your home is made of windows. As a single dad, I don't have any right to tell anyone how to be a perfect family, since I wasn't able to hold my own as it were.

I'm just saying that in a world that seems to say because ideals are hard to come by we shouldn't bother, I think we need to embrace the loftiest goals. In my struggle to be the best, I might just wind up really good and that wouldn't be so bad either.

Thoughts from General Conference

First things first. I finally found a way of making sure I stay awake! I have to have my knitting with me and I can put in all the requisite hours of sitting still without nodding off.

Before you judge me too harshly, please understand I get plenty of sleep, it's just sitting sedentary for even an hour is hard for me to do. It's genetic, go to any ward where you find my father or uncles and you'll find them with their head on their chest asleep.

I like to hear the conference talks too. I usually grab copies and put them on my iTunes and iPod, so it's not like I'm not interested, it's just I can't sit still and listen for that long. Why can I sit through a 3 hour movie without difficulty? I don't know! I just feel horrible that it happens.

Actually to tell the truth, the thing that I worry most about is not the falling asleep, it's that I might start to snore and disturb those around me. I guess I should add that to the list of reasons that I really need a wife. That way she can sit next to me and periodically jab me in the ribs with her adorable elbow.

Anyway, there were some fantastic talks. Things that I really enjoyed hearing and things I'd like to implement in my own life. I was glad I was able to be there for all the sessions.

You know those people who can recite who said what and when during conference? I'm not one of those people. You're lucky if I can remember who spoke during any particular session. What I tend to take away are specific thoughts and feelings. I might remember themes or particular stories that stood out.

With the right prompts, I can remember a lot of detail, but just sitting here I probably couldn't tell you much of anyones talk. So don't expect a detailed synopsis of what was said or what it might mean.

What I did take away was the feeling that I need to think about the priesthood more in my daily life. I need to think about how what I do each day relates to my standing as a holder of God's priesthood.

We had a wonderful refresher course on pride during the priesthood session. Once again, I find myself asking what do I need to do in my life to reduce pride and selfishness. What do I need to change in myself to keep from lifting myself above others and follow the humble Savior.

I'm rededicating myself to scripture study with my family. At least one verse at a time we're going to get through the scriptures together. What I'm going to do is to let everyone mark my scriptures with our progress. We really need to get back into the habit of reading together and this will surely help. Couple that with tomorrow being the first time in a while when the children will be with me for FHE and the timing couldn't be better.

My personal scripture study is also going to continue, with greater emphasis on pondering what I read. Thinking of how it relates to me, how I can put it into practice. Those are things that I can do each and every day.

I also want to continue to work on gratitude and feeling thankful for all the things that I have. I really am blessed in my life. I need to make sure that credit is properly given.

It's now my bedtime, so I'll stop here for now. I'm sure there will be other things that I may add, or write about in another post, but this will do for now.

Miles per quart

So a few days ago, I'm headed to work when this riced out Honda gets onto the freeway. Normally I can ignore the little red car with the coffee can muffler, however this one had gone out of his way to make sure you noticed. And believe me, I've never noticed a rig like this one before!

Before I get too far into things, I should mention that I've driven my share of older vehicles. I'm aware that as they age things begin to happen. However I also know that certain things only happen because of abuse or severe neglect.

This number was spewing forth clouds of smoke. I don't mean that it was giving out a large puff every time the accelerator was pressed either. Remember the video game "Spy Hunter" when you would pick up the smokescreen? Clouds of thick grey smoke would cover the entire lane. Visibility in the murk was reduced it was so dense.

Now while I didn't spin wildly out of control, I can say that the breathability of the air did reduce me to a choking cough. I don't have AC in my van and so drive with my windows down as much as weather permits. I wouldn't be overly surprised to find out the particulate matter I was exposed to by this mobile nightmare will eventually lead to a terminal case of lung cancer.

Even worse for me, I was stuck, unable to pass or even switch lanes for over a mile! Thus was my innocent day destroyed by some ignoramus. I say so because it was inescapable for anyone else to not be aware of the vehicular hazard they were driving and fail to have it repaired.

My only consolation was to tell myself that one of two things are going to take place. Either the nut behind the wheel was able to successfully get his doomed Japanese wheels to a mechanic, or the engine seized leaving him hopelessly stranded! I mean really, I can understand burning a bit of oil in an older engine, but when the leak is so bad that you can measure your mileage in quarts of oil per mile, you've gone beyond reasonable.

Because you asked

Softly, so that my footsteps make no sound, I would approach. Gently, my hands and arms would encircle your waist, drawing you closer to me. Feeling like the luckiest man in the world, my mind would reel like an apprentice seaman weathering his first hurricane. 

Standing there, like two perfectly matched puzzle pieces, I'd lean my head towards the nape of your neck. With gentle caresses, my lips would find the curve there. Between kisses, I'd whisper the love that fills my heart.

Pulse racing, I'd work my way around your gentle form. At every moment struggling to maintain the intimacy created by two people madly in love.

Finding your face, my hands would be drawn impulsively toward your skin. With the lightest brush of fingertips, I'd make electric contact with your visage. Sweeping back along your cheek to find the silken strands of your hair.

The pleasure of the fabric of you hair flowing past my hands once again draws me in to you. The pools of your eyes have me drowning, not for air, but for the feeling of your mouth pressed against my own. 

Unable to stop, I move toward the soft lips. Time has stopped for everyone else, only we two are aware of any movement as we are brought into contact. There, we touch causing waves of power to flow through my being. It's as if I could command the universe at this moment.

We remain, arms closed about each other. Unaware of the world and it's cares, we continue, lips and mouths occasionally parting. Sharing together the pleasure of the moment with eyes softly shut.

After lifetimes pass in this position, we draw apart. Eyes locked in love. My heart overflowing with emotion. Eternities seem to crash into nothingness now that it's over, my desperation to again approach the infinite overwhelms my soul and once again, I have to kiss your lips and face. Showering you in the passion of my heart.

Scary things

Everyone has their fears. Today I was asked what was the scariest thing I had ever done. That prompted some good introspection. There have been lots of times when I've been scared, but only a few that didn't carry with them the adrenaline rush.

I can remember the trepidation that I felt the first time I did the brakes on my own car, questioning if I managed to get them bled properly and if the car would safely stop. I knew the fear of being alone in a rough neighborhood of a third world country. While I've not been personally assaulted, I have been in places where guns were pointed at my friends, and even been threatened in a dark parking lot.

Yet all of those just seem to pale in comparison. The absolute scariest for me is asking a woman out on a date. It sounds pretty dumb, but I am terrified of rejection or mockery. So taking that risk to ask someone, who I barely know, to spend time with me in the hope of getting to know her better is the most frightening peril I've experienced.

I'm sure that now that I'm single again, I'm going to have to fight this dragon many times. Alas, I don't know of a method other than cinch up the saddle and take it on at a full gallop. There is however consolation in that the effort is usually quick and even failure represents only some scorched pride.

Why it's so challenging escapes me. I'm unaware of any reason in my past for such sensitivity to this particular situation. Maybe someday I'll find out, in the meantime, it will always be the scariest thing for me to do.

I don't remember signing up for this

So last night I was out doing something I never imagined I would have to do. I was standing in the middle of the women's section of the store; right in the bra and panty aisle with my oldest daughter trying to pick out new bras. To complicate the matter, in order to get everything done tonight, I've had to bring all her siblings along as well.

Can we say uncomfortable?! There are some reasons for this. Some maybe rational, others might just be me. You decide.

First, I had hoped to avoid having to wander around the women's underwear section to begin with. Although I had never given it much thought, I guess I had always sort of hoped that there would be a woman in my life to handle this for me. This means that with 4 daughters and no current prospects, I'm probably going to be repeating this scene at least 3 more times.

Second, as we're here, I have to admit that I don't want to come off as some sort of pervert wandering around in the women's undergarments. Yes, I've done shopping for ladies in the past, but it's always been with someone else at my side. Sort of a safety in numbers thing. My children just don't seem to fit the bill here. It might even be easier for me if we were the only one's in the store, but that just wouldn't be my fortune. There are several other ladies, some probably about my own age, doing their own shopping. I'm trying not to make eye contact...

Another reason that this is so uncomfortable is that I really didn't want to have to explain a few things to my daughter. "No, you're not a B cup and no, you're chest measurement isn't as big as my waist. Sorry, that 36B just isn't going to cut it for you." "No, you really don't need a push-up bra. Why? A push-up is meant to make your breasts look bigger, not something you need to worry about." "No, that one there with all the lace, fringe and matching g-string really isn't for a young lady." "Please pick out something that won't show through your shirt." (remember, I've got the whole gang listening in on the conversation too!)

In explaining to her about sizing, I'm having to admit to myself, and anyone else listening, that I know way more about the subject than I think I should. I don't know if I like the fact that I know how to fit a bra. Sure, it's really not that complicated, and the instructions are all over the place, but I suspect there might be something wrong with me being able to remember them. Some days I just wish I could be blissfully unaware of the complexities of life and only remember things like sports statistics!

At last, she has selected three bras that I'm comfortable letting her wear. When I shop, I'm normally pretty cost conscious. Tonight, I don't even look at the tags! I just want to move into the aisles where my discomfort can safely evaporate into general frustration as 5 children cycle up and down the rows pushing, running, bounding, touching, calling and fighting. You see, after all these years, I'm used to that. As a single dad, I'm a bit better at general rowdiness than I'm ever going to be in the women's intimate wear.

Sorry for all the quick posts in succession. I am in the middle of some deep cleaning around the apartment and these poems were some that I jotted down last year. They were sitting on my desk and one of the children managed to spill orange juice all over them.

Noodlers ink and the fact that they paper was quite heavy allowed me the opportunity to transfer these into an electronic form before they were completely lost. They were things that I sort of wanted to keep to myself, but at the same time, I don't have anything to lose.

Hope you enjoy.