True to his word, Shawn took Kayla and I to see Mama Mia. I had a great time and knew most of the words to every song. Shhh, don`t tell, I think that Shawn did, too.
I loved the actors and they all gave it the old college try when it came to the soundtrack. I must admit, it was odd to see a former James Bond singing and dancing to ABBA.
I think that my favourite part of the whole night was when we getting ready to leave.
Three women that had been sitting in the row across from us were discussing the film, as they watched the credits roll. One woman turns to the other two and exclaims
Oh My Gawd. I totally knew that these songs all sounded like ABBA.
Nuff said. It made my night :)

I am back. Ish. I am on KC's laptop, which I really hate. It takes me twice as long to do anything and since it is not mine, I do always have access to it. I do right now, though, so I thought that I would stop by and get caught up.

We took Jessica to see her doctor on Monday. I hate going there. We usually get bad news, or at the very least, her doc is stern and we feel like crap when we leave.
Not this time! Jessica has made the most dramatic improvement that either the nurse or the doc has ever seen in just one month.

I can not even tell you how elated we all were when we left. Jessica has gained another two pounds since June. Her AIC (average blood sugars over a period of time, usually 3 months) is down FIVE percent!

I was so impressed that I let her go away for the rest of the week. She is vacationing in Fort Erie with her friend. Swimming, sun and fun are just what she needs to celebrate the good news.
Shawn and I are going out this weekend to look at a new tower for our computer. I think that I should be back on line by Saturday. I hope.

That's about it for now. I will try to pop by and see everyone. I tell ya, one day without my pc and I am a wreck!

This is KC writing to all my mom's dedicated fans.
My mom won't be online for a while and this is why. . .
Computer + Hard drive eating virus = massive computer crash and the purchase of a new computer hopefully within the next couple weeks.
If you need to talk to her you can email her and I can check the emails from Spencer's house.
Be back soon.

July 11 is a strange day for me. My Dad passed away on July 11th, 1999. I can recall vividly, most of the details of that day. The trip that I took to Detroit, and the phone call home at 10:11 that morning. I had a gut feeling that today was the day, and I called home to check on my Dad. He was eating KFC with my brother, and was more alert than he had been in days. My (step) mom assured me that he was fine, I had no reason to worry and that I should have a great time away with my friend an Geoff.

When we got home later that day, I had an incredible urge to see my Dad. It was nothing that I could explain, other than I just needed to see him. Geoff refused to either take me in the car, or watch the girls, and he went fishing, not even leaving me with bus fare. I cried for the remainder of the day. I knew that I had to get to my Dad.
I never did. He passed away that same night - at 10:11 pm.

I can recall much more, but I don't want to rehash it all. No need, really, because July 11 th is about more than just my Dad.

July 11th 1997, my sister, in Colorado, that I hadn't yet met, lost her Mom. On that day in 1999, while I was mourning my Dad, my sister, Lucky, was missing her Mom.

I found my sister in February, 2002. We connected immediately. She was everything that I knew she would be, and more. We made plans to meet that summer. Lucky called her travel agent, and a flight was booked.

I met my sister on July 11, 2002. Kayla and I waited anxiously for the sliding doors at the airport arrivals to open. My hands shook and my heart was racing wildly. When the doors finally opened to reveal my sister, my heart was beating like a drum. It was one of the defining moments of my life.

Before my Dad died, we had the opportunity to talk - to heal old wounds, to make amends, and to make promises. I promised to live my life the same way that I would if he were still here. To make him proud. I promised to do my best to reconcile with Betty, and to take care of his grand daughters (the light of his life).

He promised to watch over me, to let me know, somehow, someway, that he was ok. He also promised to send me my sister. He kept his word.

I have always wondered if it was a fluke that I met my sister on July 11th, or if there was a higher power, and two loving parents responsible.

Either way, today, I will be thinking of John, Joan, and Lucky.

NIMBY

You know, Not In My BackYard?
I have never really ever been one of those people - the people that think that their neighbourhood, their street, their community was too esteemed, or affluent to have 'those kinds of people' in their midst. Part of my childhood was spent in a place that was so much like Pleasantville that I nearly choked on the sugary goodness everyday.
I STILL never thought that I was ever going to be a Nimby-person.



Until a couple of weeks ago, when our street woke up to this. See that pink house? It is directly across the street from me. They had JUST finished painting the exterior of the house about two days before they were vandalised.

What does this have to do with NIMBY? Well, the perpetrators of this heinous crime live three doors away from me. In a group home.

Oh, sure, we knew about it. I figured live and let live. After all, I have no idea why any of the kids are there. Sometimes, circumstances beyond your control can send you spiralling and you end up somewhere that you never thought that you would be.

The kids started hanging out on the church steps, next door to us. One night, one of them slept on the church doorstep, much to my discontent. Still, we let them be.

Look what happens when we 'let them be.'

The worst part of this whole thing is that the church next to us was hit. Bad. Jessica and I cleaned the blue spray paint from the windows, but there was a big, bold R.I.P. Biggie Smalls blasted across the new stone steps.

Some of the mostly elderly congregation were afraid that a real gang was involved. All of the houses hit have had to recover from this with NO help from the jerks that are responsible. You know how I know that the group home kids did it?

Two reasons.
One kid was caught wearing a paint stained shirt when the police came, and
they kids were forced to apologize to the church members that were cleaning up the mess.

Mind you, they have not spoken one word to any of the other neighbours that have to use their own resources to take care of this mess, and they have not even offered to help anyone with the restoration.

So, am I a Nimby now?

On my street?

You bet.

Not feeling very chatty right now. Meds aren't working and it feels like life is passing me by.

Sigh.