June 28th~~
This was a tough one to cover on time~
Social Column 16

The forecast is perfect. Sunny and warm, with only a few scattered clouds to accentuate the blue sky above. Uh-oh. Those fluffy white clouds have turned to a leaden gray, and the rain is pouring down. What to do when the weather is awful ? Shop, of course....and I once again reach to the treasure chest of downtown Berlin for a unique Delmarva experience.
I have to say it~ I don't love Wal-mart, and J. C. Penny's leaves me cold. It's just too bland and repetitive for my taste.
You won't find that experience in downtown Berlin. It's Christmas morning for the weary chain-store shopper. I meandered through the streets, looking in windows and stopping at whim. My eye was caught by a little table with soap bubbles set up outside The J.J. Fish Studio and Fine Crafts Gallery, owned by John and Judy Fisher. What a cool place! They make bubble carafe's with silver blowers for grown-ups, though sharing with kids is allowed. Their marble pendants really caught my imagination. You can either choose from hand-blown marbles or use your own heirloom sphere, that's showcased in a handcrafted silver cage, and hung on a silky cord. John calls art "The one constant in my life." It shows, because John and Judy have a spectacular array contemporary handmade jewelry and crafts for sale.
My next stop was Victorian Charm. If you ever see older ladies donning outrageous red hats, they probably purchased them here. "Red Hatters" have made the shop a word-of-mouth phenomenon. The collection includes everything from red hats to red boas to pins, books, and the companion colored purple clothing. Owner Debbie Frene was modest about her successful 11 years of business, and attributes a fair share of it to people who come in to visit with Josh, her Maltese dog.
Bruder Hill calls itself the "Land of Ahhs." I agree. Owners Di Hill and Shelly Bruder weren't in, but the store was staffed by Pat Cavin, who told me "We have customers from all over the country, as well as a loyal local following." Ladies, it's hip, whimsical, and fun. Neat little sandals, one of a kind funky jewelry, and clothes that scream "made for soft sea breezes and special occasions.".
Last but not least, I stopped into the Main Street Gift Gallery. Owners Peggy and Les Katona were both working, and took the time to show me their lovely gallery of local art and gourmet delicacies. I especially loved her hand-painted bamboo walking sticks, and the selection of Chesapeake style gourmet goodies.
To the other fine shopkeepers downtown, I can't wait to discover you, too. A special thanks this week to the Simms Family, owners of The Berlin Auto-Wash. They not only gave me an incredible deal for an antique desk I purchased at their garage sale, but refused a counter offer for double the price, loaded it up for me, and threw in a lamp. Guess there still ARE honorable people in the world. See you next week!

June 23..
anyway..here it is...number 15? or is it 14?

Social Column 15
Summer has a way of heating things up. Scents are spicier, colors more vibrant, and there is more daylight to enjoy it all. Apparently, this column is in full summer swing, because there is so much to do, I can barely fit it all in.
Have any of you heard that Delmarva has a comedy club? One of my clients at work told my co-worker, Suzanne, and I about a great place to go and laugh ourselves silly. It sounded like the perfect antidote to a full day of retail sales, and we decided to go. The Bottle Factory is located in Salisbury, off of business Route 13. Saturday night the bar transforms itself into " The Comedy Zone." We queued up and paid our 8 dollar admission for the 9pm show, and sat and had cocktails and snacks while we waited for the show to begin. (try Al's famous crab dip when you go). Andy Hendrickson was first up onstage. Young, sarcastic, and acerbic, Andy's dark humor speared all in it's path, from his college days to Chinese takeout.
Headliner Big Ed Caylor hails from The Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, and in his soft, Southern drawl, said, "nothing is sacred up here."
His uproarious take on marriage, parenthood, dating and weight loss was hilarious. Between the two comedians, I joyfully submitted to that state of laughing you rarely carry into adulthood....flat out side-bursting, tear running giggles. I give "The Comedy Zone" a thumbs up for great entertainment at less than the cost of a movie. For upcoming shows and directions, call (410) 749-9669.
The night was not over, however. Fager's Island, in Ocean City, has long been a landmark for great food and music. I was fortunate enough to have dinner there this past winter, and was enchanted by the elegant ambiance and delicious food. I was curious to see how the onslaught of vacationers impacted Fager's. Yikes! I never saw so many gyrating bodies in my life. If you like non-stop music and have no problem with scantily clad people within a foot radius, by all means go. If you are a student of sociology and want to observe the dating rituals of young humans, it's a must. If you are like me, however, a nightcap at home, or a walk on the beach might be a better way to end the evening.
I rounded off the weekend with a trip to "Art in the Park.", held at Northside Park. I had never been to the park before, and loved the view of the bay, the long dock, and the paved walkways, perfect for strolling or biking. It was chilly with a whipping wind, yet the caliber of art displayed made for a worthwhile outing. I was particularly impressed by the jewelry of Ron Haritan, of Gambrills, Md. With a background in stained glass, his fused glass jewelry designs are light-catching works of art. I couldn't resist, and am the proud owner of a stunning pair of earrings in iridescent blue. I will be watching for his return, and let you know so you can enjoy his work, too.
That raps it up for this week. I hope all you Dad's out there had a wonderful Father's Day. Special hugs to my Dad, George. You weren't with us for very long, but your love has lasted a lifetime. See you next week!

Weds. June 15th~~
I woke in a fine sheen of sweat, as seems to be my custom these days...Maybe going through the change is more then that..perhaps all these intense fevers are the soul redifining itself..melting down the old and preparing for a new cycle...
enough profound thoughts for one day. time to go to work...clocked it yesterday..84 miles round trip commute on tues and wed now...jeeshhh. thank god for beautiful countryside and daydreams...I am lugging my antigue typewriter with me to work...this book demands to be written... later.

just home from work..
Social column 14
This week's column is a little bit different than my weekly focus on one particular subject. It's been an eventful week, and there are several things I would like to share. First, and foremost, I would like to dedicate this column to Frank Dickson.~~

Hi, Frank. I can see you, drinking green tea, and winking at me, from heaven. Was it just last November that we celebrated your 100th birthday at the Berlin Senior Center? We decorated your cake with the green tea bags you attributed to your longevity, and watched, smiling, as you accepted your proclamation from Mayor Tom Cardinale and the City of Berlin. You gave your story to local newspaperman Pete Beisser, as your friends stopped by your chair with hugs and well wishes.
You see, Frank, last Friday I got home from a long day at work, and, as is my ritual, checked my e-mail. My friend and former boss, Shelby Bacon emailed me about your rite of passage. She said your kids stopped by the Berlin Senior Center, to tell her the news. She said you read my column every week, religiously. I never knew. I just knew I loved your smile, your zest for life, and loved flirting with you as much as you did with me. It was a great excuse, Frank, to say I was getting a kiss from a hundred year old man. Truth is, you still gave me a tingle, and I loved your stories about politics, and how you met President Warren Harding in the 1920's. I, as well as your family and other friends, will miss you, Frank.
You know from reading each week that I love the beach, and I tend to spend more time at Assateague Island than the beach in Ocean City. Last Sunday gave me another perspective, though. I was invited to the beach in Ocean City at 36th Street, home of Castle in the Sand. It was the best of both worlds, with a restaurant and Olympic sized pool, or, if you preferred, the sea just steps away. I had brought a picnic, but, even nicer, a young server strode through the sand, serving ice cold drinks and food. Talk about total relaxation....
Last Friday night was another great Open Mic Night at The Waterline Gallery, with an exciting line-up of musicians and, for the first time, poets. Kudos to Susan Beverly, poet, and her daughter Shannon. (Susan, your work touched me deeply). I couldn’t imagine reading my work in public, but she did it with passionate confidence. The crowd loved Bruce Lukoskie, guitarist, and "Gentleman" Joe Steen. Charlie Flagiello, a very talented photographer as well as guitarist and banjo player, charmed the crowd with his comedic songs. Bill Rolig, as well as being a celebrated local artist, sang and played the guitar. "Soul Feel’s" Lee and Joey returned for the second month in a row, polished and purring. Last, but not least, Steve Frene sat in on harmonica with Paul & Trish, who not only performed with zestful exuberance, but orchestrated the party. If you are a musician, poet, or enjoy live music and generally a good time, call The Waterline Gallery at (410) 641-9119 for more info. See You Next Week!



.up in Seaford Delaware today....here it is., number 14~~

Wednesday morning~~
Here it is, Lucky Column 13..This one is extra special to me., because i get to combine what i love to do while helping people. I wince as i see a few mistakes, I need to somehow slow down and proofread my work more carefully.
Starting to get back into the rhythmn of the long days, but, deep inside i want to slow down...yet, there is no stopping the train! At least I have the house whipped back into shape, have spent more time with Justin, and managed to get my column in on time.

Social Column 13

I heard my sister scream "Georgie's hurt!", and I started running. Barefoot, across the sharp graveled alleyway, I ran, until I found my little brother sprawled under a huge maple tree, twitching and foaming at the mouth. At thirteen, I panicked; my uncle, who had a military background, didn't. He gently tilted Georgie's head to the side, made sure his airway was clear, and sent me back home to call an ambulance. My daring brother had won a bet...that he could climb to the tip top of the tallest oak tree. Unfortunately, it was at a dear cost. He lost his footing and fell, broke his wrist, and suffered a concussion, which caused a seizure. Though terrifying, this was a one-time event, that could have been prevented with head gear..not unlike that worn by bicylists and those in contact sports. Could you imagine living your life with repeated seizures?
According to the Epilepsy Foundation of the Eastern Shore, over 3,000 people on Maryland’s Eastern Shore have the condition. Note I say "condition", because epilepsy is Not a disease., but rather, abnormal electrical input to the brain.
The Epilepsy Foundation of the Eastern Shore is a non-profit organization dedicated to clearing the myths surrounding epilepsy, and helping those with the condition to lead lives free of the stigma of the perception that such people are shaking, foaming at the mouth, undesirables. Their mission is to educate the public, and to help epileptics and others with developmental difficulty find jobs, and lead a "normal" life.
Now for the fun part of this week's column. The foundation has come up with an awesome fundraiser! Now I don't play golf, though it is on my list of things to do, along with playing the flute and riding in a hot-air balloon. If you do play golf, or just want to support a great cause, The Sandpiper Open is the event for you. Held at Ocean Resorts Golf Club, 10655 Cathell Road in Berlin on June 17th, it's a great way to practice your swing, perhaps win a car or 5,000 dollars, and be a philanthropist at the same time.
The festivities begin at 12 noon, with registration. The Tournament itself begins at 1pm, with a shotgun start. You can bring your own foursome or they will match you with other golfers. You can compete to win the 5,000 putting contest and try to win a 2005 Ford, courtesy of Sherwood on the Shore, in the Hole-in-One competition. ( I have only the vaguest comprehension of Hole-in-One, and Putting contest, but, it sounds like fun.)
If you follow my column, you know I love to cook. Boil this fund-raiser down, and you will get 2 parts Fun, 1 part Self-less love, and 5 parts Gratitude, from those with Epilepsy.
I never was good at Math, but, I stick by my numbers. Last year they raised almost 8,000 dollars for their cause, and over 95percent was used for direct client services.
The tournament will end with a Reception at 6pm, with awards granted and an auction.
Golfer’s always have fun. That’s why they play. How great to do it for a cause that will enrich the lives of those facing challenges we do not.
See you next week!

friday nite~~
it's 11:30 pm and i walked in the door an hour ago. These long days are taking some getting used to...out the door by 8-9am, back in at 10-10:30. I love the long ride thru the countryside in the morning, it is a time to think and reflect in blessed silence. The evenings are harder; I don't see well at night, and by the time I am almost thru the 45 minute ride the lines of the road seem to swell and blur..One more day to go, and i will be back on my regular schedule after the wedding.I have had one day off in between,and I am still running, running, not getting anywhere fast. My beautiful pink room is still trashed,the floors look cloudy and dusty in the house. I know it will get better, once I get back on my schedule. I found out a wonderful secret about the effect on local events of my column.., it makes me glad i didnt listen to my doubting self saying to give it up, there wasnt time...It's time to go to bed, and finish that last day of work. I am finally starting to grasp their computer system, and learn all the specs of the 35 beds I sell. I am trying to hone my selling skills and master all the managerial tasks. I worry about commissions and being away from home so much, and am in a guarded place of personal withdrawal. I'm just tired, i guess. But, here it is, Social COlumn 12~~
Social Column 12

Have you ever been to the Art League of Ocean City? Located bayside at 94th St., adjacent to the water tower, the art league has been promoting the enrichment of life through art since the 1960's.Though the building itself is owned by Ocean City, the inside is maintained by the 300 or so members of the league. With over 30 local business sponsors and a dedicated core of volunteers, the art league is a cultural pearl in a city more known for it's boardwalk and beaches. It's not just a gallery, either.. the League offers artistic workshops throughout the year, often with noted artists teaching the classes. I think that one of their best accomplishments is the scholarship fund they sponsor annually to benefit a budding local art student. Their latest fund-raiser was The Sandcastle Tour, with honorary chair for the event Kendel Ehrlich, wife of Maryland governor Robert Ehrlich, Jr. The two day event featured everything from a "bachelor pad" to a bed and breakfast on the beach, and was a great success. Proceeds for the event are slotted to build The Art League's own "sandcastle", a larger, more modern building with room to accommodate more workshops, exhibitions, and storage.
Each month they showcase a new exhibit, with an opening reception on the first Friday of the month between 5-7pm.It is free and open to the public.
One of my first forays into the art world since moving to Delmarva was one such opening last March. I was surprised at the building that houses The Art League; it looks more like a summer beach cottage then an art gallery. Though picturesque, I can understand why they dream of an expanded facility. I walked inside and signed the guest register, and was greeted warmly by one of the volunteers on hand for the evening. A table was set up with wine and cold drinks, and a buffet laden with homemade sweets and savory nibbles. Everything was delicious, and I loved the contrast of the simple, relaxed atmosphere with the spectacular, complex artwork on view.
The featured artists' mingled with the crowd, and it lent an even more intimate feel to the evening. I don't know about you, but when the best you can do is draw a stick figure, just being able to TALK to such artists is a thrill. How do they do it? A night at one of The Art League's receptions gives you the chance to ask them just that, while socializing with the local art community. If you want to join the organization, or want to know more about them, you can go to their website at www.artleagueofoceancity.org., or call them at (410)524-9433. I hope to be at this Friday's reception, because I know it will be exciting, enriching, and just plain fun.
Totally off track, but I have to share it....My day job takes me to Salisbury now, and I had my first soft-shell crab sandwich, from a take out place called "Chesapeake Treasures". If you are a newcomer like me, it looks scary to see a sandwich with legs poking out of two slices of bread. I closed my eyes and bit into it anyway. DELICIOUS! (Thanks to my friend Clarence, who brought me one at work.) See you next week!

exhausted...running on empty...so much more to say about this past weekend., but no time to do it..however, pulled out of the hat, here is... .Social Column 11


Love. We are all driven by it, we are all looking for it, even when we don't consciously think so. Weddings are the culmination of that search, and bring out love in all it's many and varied forms. This was the weekend of my nephew Christopher and his bride , Melissa's wedding, and what a wedding it was!
The party began at my home on Friday night, in the midst of a mini hurricane. It didn't stop anyone from laughing, dancing, drinking and eating, though. The pies I mentioned baking last week were a hit, but the true star of the evening's culinary delights was the seafood bisque and grilled swordfish prepared by Kerry, a local fisherman. He catered the final cast party for the movie "Runaway Bride," filmed on location in Berlin several years ago, and his seafood bisque was a hit in that production, also. Thanks, Kerry.
Trish and Paul, who orchestrated Open Mic Night at The Waterline Gallery a week ago, stopped by, and soon had a hand-clapping, foot-stomping audience in the living room.
Friday night's party was just the warm up, though. The wedding itself was held at The Merry Sherwood, in Berlin. The Merry Sherwood was built in 1859 by prosperous Philadelphian , Henry Johnson for his bride Elizabeth Henry, a local Berlin girl. He met her on a visit to the eastern shore, and thus the romantic tradition began. The pre-civil war home has been painstakingly restored by Kirk Bambridge into a lovely Inn, and is a wonderful place to host a special occasion, as well as a romantic getaway. The grounds are fragrant with flowers, and laid out with secluded green grottos as well as cobblestone walkways.
The ceremony itself was on the lawn, under a rose studded arbor. As I watched Melissa walk from the house to her husband to be, I couldn't help but think of the romantic tradition the Merry Sherwood has become. And yes, I cried as the vows were spoken. Thanks, cousin Jay, for the green bandana whipped from your pocket. A lace hankie would have been nice, but your bandana saved the day.
A couple of observations about the weekend from our out of town guests.... After the bar at The Atlantic Hotel closes, you can always go to Goober's for a drink. (I thought it was just a breakfast place.) Speaking of the Atlantic Hotel, that intimate, warm abode that dominates downtown Berlin, they sure do have the pulse on who is who in town. When I inquired after one of our out of town guests, the night manager knew their name, knew what other place they were staying, and what time they had left the bar. Wow! It's another small town phenomenon I'm not used to.
Melissa and Chris are now in Greece on their honeymoon. All the guests are gone. Today I am donating the rest of the flowers to the Senior Center in Berlin, and giving my social butterfly wings a chance to rest and regroup.
Planning a wedding here in Delmarva? You can't ask for a more beautiful place to celebrate your love.... See you next week!

omigod...~~ so busy...so much to do....dont want to fail...just have to get it all done, and done perfectly...( how is THAT for a perfectionists dysfunction, bared to the general public? Anyway..here goes LUCKY TEN!
Social Column Ten

I almost missed my deadline this week. Perhaps it is the 118 raspberry, coconut, and chocolate magic bars I baked. Blame it on the Grasshopper tortes, the Key lime Cream Pies. Yes, you guessed it...the Big Weekend is almost here, with family and friends coming from everywhere for my nephew Christopher and his bride, Melissa's wedding. With my customary nonchalance, I volunteered to cook for the Day before the Wedding party. And so, (deep breath here) I am frantically busy.
Yet, this week writes itself, because I have a secret for you! Are you an undiscovered poet or musician? Would you like to support those that are? Go to The Waterline Gallery, downtown Berlin, 2nd Friday of each month. Orchestrated by gallery manager Pam Showell, sanctioned by owner Karen Prengaman and partner, nephew David Prengaman, the event is a blast. I walked into the historic brick building, with it's lofty ceilings and warped hardwood floors, about 8:pm. A sign outside proclaimed." It's Friday the 13th..Are You Feeling Lucky? " All the action was upstairs, though people milled around downstairs, admiring the local artwork for sale.
"Paul and Trish", local performers with an extraordinary repertoire, were hosts as well as cast for the evening, introducing each artist. Duo Lee Johnson and Joey Cornet indulged in a laid back jam. Elena Pingatore, of the band Seventh Sense was a striking woman dressed in red, with lips to match. Her voice and dance rocked the floors that night as she exlaimed "I feel like I will explode if I don't sing." Rick Kennedy took the stage, (watch for him soon at The Globe Theater), and his beautiful country voice and lyrics touched me deeply. " It's what you have to say, it's true blue that's important, " Said the songwriter/singer about his craft. Rachel, with her flowered skirt, pinned back brown hair, and serious specs, belted out songs to the delight of the crowd, with a style reminiscent of a torchy Joni Mitchell. One of my favorites was Jason Dubow, from the D.C. area. He seemed shy, yet he sang and played guitar well, and had the courage I lack, to face an audience. Charles Calloway blew the top right off the Waterline Gallery that night with his explosive bass chops. Paul Dufendach referred to him as " The Best Bassist of Delmarva." , It was strange watching him; almost as if his fingers and his guitar were the same digit, and his heart shook him to where his rhythm followed. From the theme of Linus to the Battle Hymn of the Republic, he played...to the point where Kate Hastings, owner of The Globe Theater, boogied with Pam Showell, director of The Waterline. Other's followed, artists, musicians and patrons alike, until those old brick walls just about shook with fun.
I asked Karen Prengaman why she held the function each month. After all, I saw that there was no overt attempt to sell art....There was free food and entertainment...Her answer made me fall in love with Delmarva a little bit more. She asserted, "It's all about encouraging the arts." "This is a vital community, an artistic community, and we will do everything we can to promote it."
Pam Showell commented, "Music and Art naturally go together, provided is free entertainment, enjoyment of the arts, and a smoke free environment." In the future, Open Mic night plans to include "Kids Hour", to showcase young talent.
See you after the wedding....all the juice about the Merry Sherwood and Atlantic Hotel to follow...

Lucky Number 9~~~

Social Column 9

What a weekend! As you know by following my column, I was really looking forward to Springfest in Ocean City this past weekend.
Life happens, though, and the event collided with my full-time day job, and a weekend full of company. You see, my nephew Christopher and his beautiful bride to be, Melissa, are getting married in Berlin on May 21st. They live in the Virginia Beach area, and came this weekend to coordinate their last minute wedding plans. Why am I telling you this? They are getting married at The Merry Sherwood, just outside of Berlin, and I can't wait to let you know what a wedding at the Eastern Shore’s premier civil war era dwelling is like. Alot of our out of town guests are also staying at The Atlantic Hotel in Berlin, so I will be sharing their experiences, also.(And probably a few of their famous martinis).
Back to Springfest. Though I itched to make it earlier, I didn't actually step foot inside the inlet fairgrounds until 3pm Sunday, the closing day. I was nervous about parking, especially since I had heard that parking was very expensive, and hard to come by in Ocean City proper. I drove over the Route 50 bridge anyway, deciding it would be better to see for myself whether it was a hassle.
It kinda was. There was lots of traffic, but, I lucked into the perfect solution. Go have lunch first at The Marina Deck, just off of Dorchester St. They have a great seafood and snack menu, and their parking lot was free, if you ate lunch before going to Springfest. They also presented my sister and I with a gift coupon and carnation for Mother's Day, which was unexpected and a lovely touch. Tip; the fried soft-shelled crab was delicious, as was the tropical salad and crabcake sandwich. As we happily munched and chatted, I couldn't help but sigh with pleasure at the bayside view of the dock and charter boats, just 20 feet from our table. My family headed home, and I walked the 6 blocks or so to Springfest. My breath caught as I first sighted the billowing white tents against the bright blue sky. The beach stretched in front of me, and a boardwalk train ferried people back and fro. Did I die and go to heaven? What a beautiful place to party! No WONDER people visit here.... Hundreds of people milled about, and the center stage was alive with Beach Boy era music, and people swaying to the beat. There was a saucy clown named Lollipop, who made free balloon animals for kids. Tent after tent with food, arts and crafts, and entertainment. Kids got to rock climb a mountain, and there was a giant inflatable slide, too. If that wasn't enough, the nearby boardwalk was kicked up in high gear, full of souvenir shops and even more regional "fast food". If you didn't go this year, you have GOT to go next year. Personally, I will clear my calendar, and make it a point to enjoy the night-time entertainment too. See you next week!

Sunday Night, Mother's Day
This is always the most rotten day of the year for me....I have been divorced, i have been....well, lots of unpleasant memories...but, the worst is losing my mother. I dare Dr. Phil, Jesus Christ, Yogananda, to heal me from the wound I carry from losing her at 13.
It's not like i haven't tried every avenue that flies down the pike to heal...But, regardless, Mother's Day has me crying....riding down the road with my mascara dripping, ghoulishly stopping at cemetaries, weeping into the mother's day section at RiteAid. I have found women to "mother" me, through the years...but, always, deep in my heart, i knew that they weren't "mine".
I have tried to be a good mother myself...but, i don't really think I have...so poor...so full of excuses about "maybe" I have taught my children ????? As they grow up, they look at me like i am a nutcase, because i am not practical in their eyes anymore...just a dreamer, a believer in miracles....They berate me for not having money, i think.
Yet, I would rather have a house full of rickety chairs and good food, and i stand by that. I would rather have a house full of chaos, and a blessed circle of laughter, then a perfect plan, and i stand by that. I would rather love someone from afar, and cherish him, then make do with who is available, and i stand by that.
My mother taught me these things. She didn't leave me money, or gold, or all the things that are "right" to leave your children. She left me love. And i will love who i love, with all i have, till the day i die.
Thanks, Mom. I love you.

Well~~ here we go again......i forgot to publish this one, and my sister reminded me to...and, tomorrow at 5am, time to create number 9....
Social Column 8

Last Sunday was a beautiful spring day, and I found a GREAT place to enjoy it! Have you ever been to Furnace Town? I’ve seen brochures for it before, but truthfully, the thought of spending the day looking at an old furnace didn't seem too thrilling. Was I wrong!
My original mission was to cover the archeological dig they had scheduled, but I was so charmed by all of the other attractions, that I knew I had to share my entire trip with you. You enter Furnace Town via the visitor center/gift shop. Instead of going directly to the dig, I wandered the entire complex of early 19th century buildings. The grounds are beautiful, dotted by flowering trees and plants, and low benches scattered around. ( It would be a wonderful place to picnic. )
I visited the tiny church, with it's butter yellow pews, and wood-burning stove. The raised pulpit is made of carved oak, and the oil lamps in wall sconces provide light.
Anyone that enjoys tinkering around the house would love The Ernest Glaser Woodworking Shop, with it's display of antique tools.
There is a working smithy, displaying anvils and bellows and a huge fireplace to heat iron.
The Harrison House, a painstakingly restored cottage home, now houses antique dresses and hats from the period. Also on exhibit are taxidermied woodland animals, and old recipes like "Invalid Squirrel Broth" and "Black Bear Stew". My two favorite places were the broom-making shop and the weaver's shop. I asked Broom-maker Sandra Milito how she had become a craftswoman. "I came from a stressful background of hotel management ." she said. "I find this a peaceful, wonderful place to work." I ended up buying a kitchen broom and a little "crumb-catcher" for the table. The weaver's shop is really neat, too. Marian Adkins sat at her 175 year old loom, and I watched her weave a placemat from scraps of colorful cloth. She explained the looming process to me, and pointed out the flax and cotton used to make thread.
The furnace itself looked like something out of a spooky fairytale to me. It is the original 1830 iron furnace, and as you walk up the ramp you get a panoramic view as a bonus. There are other buildings and a kitchen garden to explore, also, but I just don’t have the space to share them all. I finally made it to the archeological dig, overseen by volunteers Patty Parkinson and Sandy Fondren. Patty said she volunteers because "it allows me to touch part of history." Sandy, who has been a Furnace Town volunteer for 10 years, simply said, "I just love it." I asked the littlest digger, Tatem Russell, age 5, if she was having fun. Her answer was to hop back into the site, and take up her trowel with a smile. She was there for a "day with daddy". Some of the finds include a domino, buttons, crockery, and spoons.
Furnace Town's director of 19 years, Kathy Fisher, told me that Furnace Town is available for corporate functions, family reunions, group outings, and even weddings in the antique church. There is a large covered Pavilion with picnic tables, and box lunches are available with advance notice. Many workshops, including weaving, basket making, blacksmithing, and painting are offered as well. For more information, call (410) 632-2032. I know that I will be back, because Furnace Town is a slice of living history, nestled in a serene, natural setting. See you next week!

Here it is, lucky 7...though, with my training schedule for my new job, it was a tough one to think up, orchestrate, and complete....oh well, at least i managed to focus enough to fulfill my commitment. Social Column 7

This is my first spring in Delmarva, and I find it breathtaking. I have never seen more beautiful flowering trees and bushes, and everything is magically green and lush already.
You know from last week's column on the first Ocean City Marathon that I am not athletically inclined, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy the great outdoors. The "great outdoors" here is truly that. What I find fascinating is that there is so much diversity. Like a peaceful walk along the beach? Go to Assateaque. Like a beach studded with bronzed bodies and 3 miles of boardwalk chock full of shops and an amusement park? Go to Ocean City. Want a serene forest with a meandering river? Go to Pokemoke State Park.
My personal favorite is Assateaque Island. Last year, as I contemplated my move here from the midwest, the wild ponies at Assateaque were an almost mystical draw for me. Where else in the world could I experience that? And to live in a place where seeing them was as easy as going to the corner store for a paper? The park is located 8 miles south of Ocean City, and may be reached via MD RT 50 to MD RT 611. Assateaque has the distinction of being Maryland's only ocean park ,and is a barrier island bordered on the west by Sinepuxent Bay, and the east by the Atlantic Ocean. Some of the recreational activities include fishing, swimming, canoeing, biking, crabbing, and clamming. Both the state park and the national park offer camping, too. A good bet if you want a full list of things to do is to stop in at the Barrier Island Visitor Center, located to your right before you cross the bridge to the island. Speaking of the bridge, it is awesome to park your car in the provided parking lot, and walk across the bridge. There are telescopes set up, and it's a scenic and painless way to enjoy the view and get exercise at the same time.
If miles of pristine beach, unbroken by manmade structures is too quiet for you, head out to Ocean City. I haven't experienced the hustle and bustle of the boardwalk in the summer yet, ( I think that will be a column of it's own), but even my winter walks have given me a taste of what that will be. The boardwalk stretches for almost three miles, from the inlet in South Ocean City to 27th St., and is chock full of shops, food pavilions, and amusements. In 1902, the first boardwalk was just a few blocks long and built of wooden planks that hotel keepers rolled up and put on their porches during high tide. The boardwalk as we know it today was lengthened and renovated in 1962, after a March storm leveled the existing structure. It is a great place to stroll , shop and people watch. A must is to ride Trimper's Carousel, which is the oldest continuously operating carousel in the county, with two tiers of painted and carved animals. It is also the location of the celebrated Spring Fest, a four day festival of entertainment, arts and crafts, and food, celebrated Thursday through Sunday, May 5-8. ( I will be there!).
Pokemoke State Park? I wouldn't do it justice if I squeezed it into my limited space in this week's column. I am planning a picnic there next month, with a tour of nearby Furnace Town, so look forward to an in depth story on my adventure. Enjoy our beautiful spring, and see you at Springfest this weekend!



omplete....

April 12th~~
I thought i had escaped the birthday....My mom was born on April 9th. Those of you who know me realize that it is a date, along with her death-date, that is a flag to my emotional health, my life.
She died the day before my 14th birthday...she was my friend, my best friend. She understood me as no other, and being with her was being with myself, because I never saw the boundaries that proved she wasn't me. Crazy? Probably....especially if you have never been that comfortable, that safe, with another human being. And yet, it wasn't all comfort and roses...there was plenty of pain caused by her drinking, and it wasn't a BORING kind of comfortable, rather an intellectual playmate, with deep, metaphysical succor, surrounded by a sense of innocence and fun and love for God, people, animals and nature.

WHEW! what a person to lose...Is it any wonder I am on a subconscious quest, trying to find/be/recapture those things, with every human being i am intimate with?
I thought I had escaped this time...for her birthday and her deathday have triggered intense emotional meltdowns for me.
The first year, at 14, I held a razor to my wrist, and wanted to die. ( I was to chicken, too full of desire, to do that)
The rest of my teenage years, I stuffed myself with chocolate and books and straight A's, which was a chubby yet productive way to hide the pain.
I did other things to try to bring her back...not ready nor able to discuss them now., but some stand out in my memory...
At 26, holding my first born, fantasing that he was SHE, reincarnated, and holding my baby tight, looking for signs of her spirit...
At 35, working as a bartender, drinking Rum and Coke like water, until i was so dead drunk i was terrified of the loss of control, and walked around the building after work mumbling to her, begging her to come back.]
At 42, the age she herself died, putting an empty chair across from me, trying to DIALOG with her, forgive her for leaving me, and ending up wailing like a lost child, such an eerie keening that I ended up laughing at my desperation...
And now, the eve of being 50, letting the date pass without frantic calls to my sisters, without seeing her reincarnated, without getting pie-eyed...Almost smug in my surety that I am over her...
Until i realized yesterday I made "Mommy's chicken" a dish i haven't made in over two years. Until I made "stuffed cabbage" tonight, a dish i haven't made in at least five. I used to help her squish the meat, and was very serious as she instructed me how to wrap the filling around the cabbage...
So, I haven't escaped, have I? Each redbird, OUR bird, I see, makes my heart catch. The chicken was delicious, and the stuffed cabbage smells delightful.
This year, Mom, I cooked with you. It was always a favorite thing we did. You are still my best friend, and always will be. Happy Birthday...love, LeeLee
Ps. I still miss you.

April 11th~~
So much is happening in the gladiator world of my finances; Romans 10/Christians uhuh. My back molar is aching and pulsing, and I wrote my column to the staccato beat of pain. Doesn't matter. All those things are just what is, right now, not who I am, not who i will be.
But, beyond those things, that are colouring my perceptions, the glory of spring here in Delmarva is enough to make a poet weep. Each highly sketched work of art reveals itself in high drama: a robin, scarlet breast swollen and bright, perched on a gnarled tree of white blossoms....rich, vibrant fields,trim, emerald green against tall, bleached swatches of last years hay....pansies everywhere, like party hats, planted by delirious homeowners and shopkeepers alike, in urns, in planters, scampering down walkways.
And the scents!! Chicken shit from the farms, and brown manure being flung from huge farm trucks in the fields...Sweet magnolia and dogwood and witch hazel blooms....first cuts of grass, with the sleepy lawn mower ruuurrr as a backdrop, and , underlying it all, the smell of the sea.
Spring comes like the sudden passionate kiss of a lover here. Long anticipated, longed for,and all encompassing, when first felt.
I am in love.

Social Column 5~~~I admit it. I am thoroughly infatuated with art and artists. My mom doodled pagodas and swanky ladies dolled up in furs, and both of my sisters are talented with pencil and paint. Me? I can draw a pretty good stick figure, and a bunny fashioned from a capitol B., but, that's about it. To make up for the glaring lack of talent in my family's artistic gene pool, I have become an avid art enthusiast, instead. I have traveled to some of the finest art museums in the world, but what I really love the best are local, intimate art galleries.
I used to think that they were for only for the upper crust, and I have to admit I was intimidated by going to an opening reception. Could be because of the first one I ever attended, where even the fresh strawberries were dressed up in chocolate tuxedos. Yikes!
The galleries I have experienced here are different. I think there are several reasons for this. First of all, the beauty of our bays and beach and farms draw artists here like a magnet. indeed, I consider our area a Mecca for aspiring and established artists alike. Secondly, there is a laid back, casual feel to the galleries I have attended, where people can visit in jeans and t-shirts, if desired, making art "shopping" accessible to all, yet the art itself is world class.
The first gallery I visited since moving here is a case in point. The Waterline Gallery, located in a historic building in downtown Berlin, is both elegant and casual. The caliber of art is phenomenal, yet they still do fun things like their monthly open-mic night, where they provide music and appetizers as well as art. Watch for a spectacular reception on April 23rd. Gallery information is available at (410)641-9119.
Last Saturday I was able to add a new favorite to my ramblings in the art world. I stepped into The Beachcombers Easel Art Gallery, on the corner of Routes 50 & 611 in West Ocean City, and immediately felt the excitement of a great array of creative art mediums, including hand wrought jewelry, and sculpture. The owner, Edith Vogl, is a fifth generation painter herself, and the gallery is very supportive of both emerging artists and those who are already well ensconced in the area. They were holding one of their monthly receptions, complete with snacks and champagne, but the best part was being able to meet several of the featured artists themselves. Doris Price, from Millsboro, De, has been a studio painter for more than thirty years. A diminutive woman with powerful personal magnetism, her paintings reflect a bold radiance and love of music. Jim Adcock, an Ocean Pines resident, taught art in Baltimore in the 70's, and has lived here for over 10 years. He has a special gift for taking the landmarks and icons exclusive to our area, and painting them into cherished memories. It was wonderful meeting you both, Doris and Jim. Look for Beachcombers next reception on May 14th, featuring Judith Johnson's dreamy waterscapes. The gallery can be reached at (410)213-9433.
Well worth a visit is A Step Above, another art gallery in downtown Berlin. With over 4,000 square feet of display space and over 100 regional artists showcased, I was fascinated by all the different types of art available. Rustic birdcages, hand painted bottles, pottery, carvers, hand-woven clothes, stained glass, as well as a painting gallery, the owner, William Outten, has done an outstanding job promoting the work of local artists. They also hold monthly receptions; and the gallery can be reached at (410)629-0988.
These are just a few choice gems in my foray in the art world here. Do call and find out monthly receptions, hours of operation, ect. They are food for the soul and alot of fun, too, and you might just take home a precious memory of the Eastern Shore.
See you next week!

Friday, April 8th
I feel like a nomad in duststiffened jeans and worn shoes. I don't know how i made it thru this winter, struggling like crazy with bosses intent on making me their concubines, pay that i made when i was 20, and juggling finances and justin and my heart vrs. my head.
But, make it i did. The daffadils are nodding their golden heads, and somehow remind me of the sleepy field of poppies in the wizard of oz. I want to tip each of their heads up, look into their eyes, and say WAKE UP! But, who am i to tell another living creature how to enjoy their day?
I am ablaze with the thought of flowers to plant, i can see them breaking through the earth, tiny slivers of brave green, nourished by sun and water into boisterous flowers...streaming scent and colour and winking with delight at life.
I tried on my jeans that i wore the first time i met Rikk....somehow, the comedy went like this....PULL! PULL!! TUG! TUG!! Huh? what's wrong with these pants? did they SHRINK, in storage over the winter? Must be the humidity in the attic...
Nah...my hips are wider and my belly a little buddha. Thank God it all looks better, naked, lying down. Still, that's no excuse. I will keep walking, stop eating ice cream, and get back into those cute little tiny jeans with the winking tear over my right cheek.
Got a new job...not a maybe job, not a just-ANYTHING-to-survive-job,but a sales position with a national bedding company. Full benefits, paid training, ect. I am not loving it, of course, because it isnt where my heart is...but, I will seize the opportunity to get out of debt, get ahead., while i continue my writing.
Time to go try on the rest of my summer clothes. I think i am going to be rudely awakened, and can see alot of South Beach menus in my near future....later...

Monday, April 4th~~
I know i have been consumed by my column in the paper...rediculous, really, in the grand scheme of things, but not so rediculous, in my own scheme.
And isnt that the way it really is? I love tulips, i can sit in the cold and dirt and study their form and structure and touch their leaves, waiting to delight in their color, their intrinsic femininity, get pollen on my nose, that alien male touch, that tickles, that sticks, just as a man, in his desire, sticks to a woman.
Uhoh. I can hear those that love me starting to squack..."don't be so open! watch your boundries! have some MYSTERY!"
Truth be told, within my smile, within my words, so open and free, I am as the tulip, layered, opening only with the sun, done in by rabbits and small, nibbling creatures, closing tight, and holding fast, against the pecularities of spring.
Cold won't destroy me. Neither will rain, nor sleet, and snow. I guess the worst I can go through is a bit of frostbite, or maybe a season or two without flowering.
I can handle that. Cuz i know my roots grab deep. Later.

Social Column 4

Food. Glorious Food. Having grown up in an Italian family, this is one subject I hold close to my heart, if not my hips. I can remember being swathed in a flowery apron, peeking into fragrant, simmering pots, with my grandma teaching me her "secret" recipe for macaroni and meatballs. Later, I learned at my mother's side, for she was a formidable cook, entertaining my father's business clients with savvy international cuisine.So, I am no stranger to "good eats." A very lucky woman, I have lived in Florida, and eaten fresh fish grilled in dockside cafes, in Alabama , where the BBQ reigns sublime, in North Jersey where the bread is the best and the deli's are divine, and in Detroit ,where widemouth bass is served on a charred cedar plank. But I have to tell you, for sheer diversity and delectiblity, Delmarva is winning my Salvitating Award, tongue down.
Maybe it has to do with the ocean breezes and the freshest of seafood? The fresh vegetables from the local farms? The cosmopolitan influence from our visitors from New York, Baltimore, and DC? I don't know, I don't really care, all I know is that if Chefs have a heaven, it's here.
But don't take my word for it. I asked a local Bed and Breakfast owner where she suggests her guests go eat...She looked up and to the left, as if the sky held the answer to my question, then, hand in chin, replied " hmmmn...that's a hard question to answer.. I love to suggest The Atlantic Hotel, for it's ambiance, charm, and sophisticated cuisine. The Globe Theater always has great sandwiches and now features evening specials, with great artwork and collectibles for sale., and Goober's is a favorite breakfast spot for locals.All three restaurants are located in Berlin.
Personally, I love the crabcake sandwich at Captain's Gallery,on the water at West Ocean City's Harbor.Crispy outside, sweet and succulent inside, all served in a fresh roll..YUM! This past summer, family came in from Long Island, NY, and we had a steamed crab feast to die for, courtesy of Crabs to Go, on the corner of Routes 50 & 589.It was the traditional eastern shore feast, and we served the spicy crabs piled on a newspaper tablecloth,family style, with plenty of beer and wooden mallets to crack through the shell to the tender crab inside. I love the roast beef at Bull on the Beach, at 94th St.& Boardwalk, sliced thin, flavorful, and piled high.It's great when you are oystered, clammed, and shrimped out, and just want some solid beef under your belt. Fager's Island, 60th St On the Bay, is a romantic, extravagant restaurant, which I found pricey, but worth it. The black pepper crusted blue cheese steak is to die for, and I confess I spent a full 10 minutes in the ladies room, just sitting on the plush sofa, and admiring the lavish fixtures. (it's the little things in life that count.)
There have to be a MILLION restaurants to choose from. But, what if you are sun and sea tired, and just want a shower and movie at the condo? I can't wait until Avalon opens, a upperscale gourmet market and takeout located near the White Marlin Mall in Ocean City. The owner has a vision of the freshest of vegetables, delectable salads and entrees, and citified expresso and coffees, packaged and ready to enjoy at home, at the beach, or for special social functions. Won't be bad for hard working mom's and dad's, too tired to cook, either. They plan their grand opening for early May, 2005. I love the sandwiches and bologna hotdogs at Coin's restaurant,( a little cholesterol is good for the soul, sometimes) located at 28th St, downtown Ocean City. You've got to have a pizza place, and I like Mione's, at the White Marlin Mall in Ocean City. The large pizza was tasty, with real mozzarella cheese, not that fake stuff, and big enough to satisfy even a lusty eater like me.
So who have I left out? I bet a LOT of great restaurants, alot of places that locals and vacationers alike hold tight, as the closely guarded secrets they are. Come on, share..! We all love to eat, we all want to know the "hot spots" to go..I have given you a few of mine., what's your's??? Let me know via the Bayside Gazette, or my web-address, listed below.
See you next week!

Social Column 3 Well, here goes week 3 of my column.....

I like a town that blocks itself off to party.,,and that is exactly what the town of Berlin did at their 9th annual Spring Fling party last Saturday. I lived in the Detroit metropolitan area for the past 8 years,and I admit my initial draw was the grand finale of the festival, the Pig Races. I just couldn't fathom pigs being raced on a downtown street. Was it the American version of the bull run of Pamplona? Was it a slick imitation of rural Mayberryism for the tourists?
Curious, I just had to go and see for myself.
I found the answer, and a whole lot more. The weather was sweater cold and gray, but that didn't stop the press of people downtown. My first stop was The Waterline Gallery. I knew they were having an exhibit honoring 4th grade artists, so I wandered inside. Aside from some truly stunning art, I realized genuine community spirit at work. A huge paper canvas covered one wall of the gallery, and black-smocked youngsters painted away with abandon. Perhaps the experience nudged a budding Patrick Henry or Van Gogh to uncover their talent? At the very least, the look on their faces proved that art is fun,and that children will create, given the opportunity.
I walked on, enchanted by a trio of little girls in their Easter bonnets, getting their pictures snapped on the steps of the Atlantic hotel.I watched as kids rock-climbed a cliff wall sponsored by Extreme Entertainment. Arts and crafts vendors were set up on both sides of the street, and the smell of french fries and grilling sausages filled the air.

My eye caught a delicious display of pies, and turkeys, and cakes. Wow! Someone must have been cooking for weeks to offer such an array of goodies! Then I read their sign, "Fake Sale." The artist, Dallas Hewitt, had crafted everything from materials bought at Home Depot.He got his start 12 years ago, just to keep busy after retirement. His wife, Joan, rang up purchases, while Dallas cracked, "Made for the eyes, not for the thighs."
At the other end of the spectrum, I met young local entrepreneurs Megan Fulton and Matt Center, whose booth," Lots of Knots" featured delicately woven hanging bottles and hemp jewelry. Megan explained that her artistry started with "just keeping my hands busy". The result is a thriving business, proving the old adage, do what you love, and success will follow.
Past the petting zoo, with little ones snuggling bunnies and petting lambs. I followed the haybale fence to the mobile truck pen holding...you guessed it, the PIGS! Cute little critters, all under a year old and weighing about 25 lbs, with racing numbers painted on their backs. If pigs can look bewildered, these did. I imagined their conversation went something like this, "what are we DOING here? What's it say on my back?" And the reply, "I dunno,just as long as it's not a BBQ."
Strains of music filtered in from the north side of town, where the band "Country Grass" played down home music. The crowd went wild when a tiny cowboy, 2 year old Devon Pursel of Berlin, walked in front of the stage in his boots and black cowboy hat. He was a drama unto himself,dancing and clapping to the beat.Others joined him, and soon people were literally dancing in the street. People talked to one another, people knew each other's names. You sure didn't get this in Detroit.
The pig-calling contest was next. Two categories, children and adult. The winners were chosen by the crowd, with Justin of Berlin, screaming "PIG, I SAID, COME PIG",in first place for the children's division, and Skeets Z. of Libertytown, claiming the adult title, with his longwinded, almost operatic call.
The air turned colder, but I wouldn't have missed the pig races for the world.The crowd lined the street in anticipation. Two by two, the squealing pigs were led out of their pen, to the starting line 20 feet away. It was no mean feat, and I was amazed to see the local president of the Chamber of Commerce, Earl Conley, shooing and herding and even PICKING UP the protesting porkers. You don't see that in Detroit, either. Representatives from local businesses and private sponsors were positioned next to their contestants, with instructions of "no pushing, no touching, just hollering and foot stomping" their pigs to the finish line. The winner? Truthfully, I walked my numbed feet and frozen nose home as the last three pigs were about to race.
I had come to see what I wanted to see. Gone was my smirking perception of a "hokey" small town festival. What I found was a cherished gem of American culture and values, where a closeknit community came together for the common enjoyment and education of all.
Is this an endangered way of life? Next week I will introduce a guest writer, Dr. Robert Poli, who has some very thought provoking ideas on the subject.
See you next week!

Wednesday Night~~
If you read yesterday's blog, you know i published my second column, due out tomorrow in the Gazette.
It just tells half of the story. In truth, each word was like walking with a piece of glass in my foot...painful, but necessary to get where i was going.
For i was the "assistant" to Shelby. I was the other half of the team, i was the one that laughed, and nurtured, and loved the seniors.
I made the choice to quit, because my insane boss at the mattress store was unwilling to let me work both jobs. I was willing; I didn't care how many hours i worked, and never have cared, as long as i could do something that i loved, and still take care of my family.
Once again, the scenario unfolded...did i do what i loved, or take care of who i loved? I gave up the kitchen concession in Florida because it was the job, or the kids survival. I gave up the gourmet cooking job in Michigan, for the same reason. I couldn't do both;both jobs would have made great money eventually, but, eventually isn't quick enough when you have to pay rent, and doctors bills, and buy healthy groceries for growing kids.
Me, i wouldnt mind living on the 4 basics...Coffee, tunafish, peanutbutter, and wine. Not the recommended diet for growing boys, though.
Me, i wouldn't mind a one room flat, with a hotplate and and plant in the window.Not exactly the white picket fence and the stability kids need.
And then the third strike;..did i stay at the senior center, where i felt fulfilled, needed, and doing God's work, or cut and run to pay my Maryland responsibilities, my Mich. responsibilites, car payments, ect? Not to mention taking on J., and his "challenges". So, i left the center.
By God, nothing is going to stop my writing now. Enough is enough. I won't let this chance to feel my soul sing pass me by. Money or no money. Kids or no kids.
This one's for me.
Later.

Tuesday Morning~~
Well, my second column is sent off to the editor.., and here it is...

Seniors. We are all going to be one, if we are lucky. But what is there for us, if our children are long gone, and we are retired from our careers? Where to go? What to do?
The Berlin Senior Center has provided the answer for many of our area seniors. I volunteer there, and I would love to tell you more about this vital community service. The Director, Shelby Bacon, is a 5'2, blue-eyed dynamo that never stops. Her heels click rapidly on the worn linoleum floor, as she dashes from her office to the kitchen to the long tables where the seniors congregate. It's not a job for the faint hearted, nor for someone who is looking to get rich. But, in Shelby's words, " I have always felt that I get so much more back from them then I could possibly give to them."
I know how she feels. It's not just a place to watch TV or play bingo. It's a unique family unto itself, made up of people like Tommy, who, at age 95, will croon "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" with a little encouragement. It's Margaret, who helps her fellow seniors that aren't as mobile as she, and helps staff serve lunch. It's Liz, flirty at 86, always ready to liven up the day with a smile or a song. It's Jackie, who leads chair exercise daily, and "Miss" Vivian, who runs the thrift shop located in the center. (and is rumored to make the best bread pudding in Berlin). And I can't not mention Frank, age 100, cracking jokes and winking at the ladies and extolling the virtues of green tea. I could go on and on, for each of my friends there are unique.
But what do they DO there? The day starts for Shelby and her assistant, Sylvia Dixon, at 7:30 am. That's when the phones start ringing, with who is coming and who is not, because there is a bus service to and from the center each day. Clarence drives the Ocean Pines route, and Jim the local Berlin route. Seniors themselves, they aren't just employees. They watch over their clients, helping them with steps, walkers, and packages. Each day they drive the Meals on Wheels lunch route, too, a service for those in the community that are homebound. The Kiwanis Club of Ocean Pines/Greater Ocean City provides volunteers to help Jim and Clarence with delivery, so a great big thank you to them, too.
In the kitchen, Jim and Virgie get the coffee going, and put out morning snacks. Hot lunches are provided at a minimal cost, prepared by the staff at Stephan Decatur High School, and brought in by the Kiwanis team.
Some days it's just chat and lunch, a place for companionship. The real fun comes from the warmth and nurturing by Shelby and Sylvia, and the wonderful people who take the time to enrich the lives of the senior communityby volunteering. Teddy comes with her guitar, and starts a sing-a-long. Debbie and her husband Les hold weekly Bible study. Nadine and Betty guide crafts. Gloria comes in and does nails. Father Michael and Rev. Baer deliver spiritual messages.
Miracles happen here, too. Funded on a shoestring by Federal, State, the County and private donations, money for extras is always tight. When the ancient copy machine refused to crank another memo, Shelby called a newspaper ad selling a used machine. The seller decided the center needed it more than he needed the money, and donated it instead.
There is a "wish list" of items needed...the center would love a bumper pool table and an exercise bike. Gently used clothing, books, musical CD's and tapes, and VCR movies would also be put to good use.
If you love to sing, or have a special talent, or even just a small dog to bring for pet therapy, they would love your visit. The Senior Center is open Monday through Thursday, from 8:30 am to 1:30 pm. The phone number is (410)641-0515, and it's located at 107 Williams Street, Berlin. (directly across the street from the Burbage Funeral Home).
Stop by and meet the family. They will welcome you with open arms, like they did me.
See you next week!

Saturday Morning~~
I am dressed and perfumed and gel-ed and ready for work, fueled up on some high octane coffee. I don't want to go sell mattresses, I don't want to be persuasive or look for buying signals, ect, ect, ect.
I want to work outside in the yard, go to beach, write. My sister had a dream about me last night, that i learned to play golf. Golf? There has got to be some significance to that...But what? Swinging a club? Entering a male dominated sport? Whatever it is, she said i was having a ball doing it...
Writing this morning is like walking through molasses. Possible, but, sticky and not very smooth. SO, I will reluctantly take my mermaid self off to work, and catch you, Later.

March 17th
I don't know how i did it, but it is exactly within the week of my first blog, a year ago, that i am now a published author. I write a column now, in a local newspaper called the Bayside Gazette. All day i squirmed and dreamed at work(another mattress store...UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH), as i waited to get off work and see if it was real...
I went to the grocery store, one of the places they distribute the local papers. Nonchalantly i picked up the paper, and walked inside...Hmnn, seedless white grapes, on sale for 1.79...in the cart they went. A smile just started to smirk across my face,...but, i resisted the urge to look...was i REALLY there, in print?
Beans on sale., garbanzos to make my garlic roasted red pepper hummus, and black beans to make chicken and rice, with cumin...Pepsi, (okay, not good for me, but what a nice sugur rush), and cat food, and sweet smelling hair conditioner...
I couldn't resist anymore literary foreplay...I urgently opened the paper..and there i was, staring out at me with a wry smile...all curly haired and bespeckled with my hand on my chin..I whipped my head to the right, to the left...I almost felt like i had been caught masterbating in public, or, at the very least, naked...
Then a slow, delightful, all encompassing warmth filled me...I DID it! Through all life's twists and turns, through all my self doubt and self circuits, i DID it...
Now there is no stopping me. .Because the floodgates are opened, because all is possible, because I am so happy...Later.

March 11th..
What a wonderful, wonderful day. Twentythree years ago i gave birth...to my beautiful son Todd...it was the start of the most joyous, delicious journey...and today, again, i give birth....the previous post is a copy of my submission to a local newspaper to write a social column....Within three hours of emailing the publisher., she responded, telling me she loved it...I am now a writer whose going to be published!It's another anniversary, too...because a year ago i started this blog....
So don't ever give up on your dreams....if you follow your heart,, it just may come true....Later.

Social Column(Fox Hunt?)
When I was approached to write a social column for the Bayside Gazette, my first reaction was sheer joy.
Me! I have always loved to write, and my head buzzed with a million stories I could tell. I accepted the assignment.
My second reaction was.."What the heck is a social column, anyway?" Writing about black tie affairs? Rubbing shoulders with first families and the diamond draped? Uh-oh. My favorite attire is faded jeans with the knees ripped out. Yet...I am a very social creature, known to accost perfect strangers on the street with a smile and conversation. Perhaps a social column is about art gallery openings, music festivals, interesting seminars and doings about town? Hmnn...That sounded better, but still not quite right.
In desperation I turned to the dictionary. I found 2 entries for the word SOCIAL that seemed to fit. "living together or enjoying life in communities" and "marked by friendly companionship with others." EUREKA! That's what I would write about..enjoying life, enjoying people here in our community.
I am a newcomer to the eastern shore, so new, in fact, that last fall I was still puzzled about where the town of " Delmarva" was. ( I now realize, blushingly, that "Delmarva" is the eastern shore nickname for Delaware, Maryland and Virginia beach areas.) My initial contacts with people here took on an almost scary tint; somewhat like Mayberry meets the Stepford wives. I discovered people come in three distinct flavors here, those born to the area, those vacationing here, and the relocated "outsiders" like me. It seems to be a much bigger distinction here then in the midwestern city that I hail from. I was shocked by the lower pay scales, and the high prices at the grocery store. Though I haven't experienced it yet, I have been thoroughly frightened by stories of horrible traffic jams in the summer.And the soaring prices of real estate deserves it's OWN column.
Still, there is a beauty and gentle pace here that is hard to resist. I am still awed by the wild ponies at Assateaque, and the play of light across the water crossing the Route 90 bridge. The coolness I felt at my initial reception has begun to thaw.
I am volunteering at a local senior center, and have met some fascinating, caring people there. They have regaled me with stories of Ocean City's early years, when there was only a two-lane road and one bridge in and out. I have made friends with the manager of a local art gallery, and met several celebrated local artists. I've sat and talked to a spicy, 91 year old grande dame of one of the founding families here. I've shaken hands with Mayor Tom Cardinale, when he came to my house for last years Historic Christmas house tour. I've eaten raw oysters at BJ's on the Water, and the roast beef platter at Bull on the Beach. I have been to the circus down in Salisbury, and the oldies concert at the Ocean City convention center. I can't wait for Spring Fest, and the Pig Auction in Berlin. Pig auction?
It's a crazy mix here of cornfields and cocktails, of raucous boardwalk and serene seashore, cultural pursuits and downright party fever.
I think I just convinced myself that it's going to be fun to be here.
I now understand what this column is all about....PEOPLE, people and their activities that I find interesting. So be careful, because you never know where I will be, or if YOU will be the one I write about next...Later.

Saturday, March 5th~~
Well, it's been a long time, i know. I have been writing privately, these last few months, poetry too steamy to post. Those poems come from a different place then my usual ramblings..they, too, write themselves, but have a particular urgency that comes on me suddenly, a gust of wind out of nowhere, and then is gone.
I have had the most exciting thing happen...An opportunity to write a column for one of the local newspapers here. Me! I am exhilerated, frightened to my toes, and ready for it.
Only problem is...it's a social column. I am certainly not part of high society, nor a social climber by any means. But, i am not one to sit home with a can of beer and watch "Friends" reruns, either. So what to write about? WHO to write about?
I started by going to an art opening last night with my friend P., who is the manager of a local art gallery. She sailed with ease through the bluebloods and artists alike, while i found myself nervously adjusting my glasses on my nose, and just observing. She is a Leo, and I don't know if it is my curse or salvation, because i seem to always find myself in the company of strong-willed Aries and Leo's , determined to pull me out of my Cancerian shell.
She introduced me smoothly...as a local newspaper writer! I had no choice but to pull out my everpresent notebook and camera..At first all i could do was scribble about the food, desperately faking it...(olive tapenade, pasty gray hummas, crackers, lots of crackers) then i relaxed, and met the artists themselves, and found myself pulled into their stories...The brownhaired pixie with the shy eyes, whose sculpture showed a voluptous passion deep inside..The white haired professor whose paintings spoke of seeing the infinite patterned in everyday objects..The artist who lived in Italy, who painted cats with color and zest sweeping, operatic brushstrokes.
How do i put this in a social column? I don't know, yet. I have a week to turn it in to the editor...I think i am about to swim in some new currents, indeed. P.S. I guess i better learn how to spell, too., lol.

Monday Morning~~
As i write this, snow is falling like a cape over the peninsula. It is Michigan cold, truly a marvel to me, because just a few days ago i spotted a golden dandelion in the grass. How could this be? this melding of the seasons? Perhaps mother nature gets as confused as i, sometimes.
There are birds on the feeder on the backporch railing, pretty brown ones, that look like high-fashion sparrows with exotic white stripes. A year or so ago, i was infatuated by primary colors and stars, and Rikk painted the plain, dollar store feeder in a very patriotic red,white and blue. I can remember watching him as he painted. His hands are beautiful,with long, tapered fingers and a sturdy, square palm. Where am i going with this thought? Nowhere, i suppose...just missing his hand in mine.
I can't remember the last time i had a day off where i wasn't committed to be somewhere, or do something. Today is my day; today i will harbor my heart, nourish my soul. (thank you for the advise, twin). Today is for writing and painting my toenails pink, today is for making a big pot of soup and some homemade bread,today is for snuggling under my quilt in a little ball and daydreaming, as i watch the snow fall. Later.

Friday Night~~
The house is silent..no, not silent; there is the hum of the overhead fan, the whirr of the computer encased in it's tower, the the faint melody of the seahorse chime on the front porch. I am a fashion nightmare, combining blue socks with my thriftshop men's plaid cotton pajama bottoms, and my favorite stars and moon flannel pj top. I love the snaps on men's pajamas, they are fun to unsnap, and i love the softness of the flannel top. Besides, i couldn't find the match to either.
I went to the circus tonight. My boss invited me, and with a gallic shrug, i thought, "why not?" My life right now IS a circus, so, i went.
I was struck by the americana of it all, half ashamed at the glitter and hype, yet awed by the daring stunts and dedication of the performers. Nostaglia painted it all in soft-edged colors, sitting on my father's lap at 5, frightened of the clowns and loving the trapeze artists( i thought they were angels practicing on earth), going as a young bride of 22 and wickedly licking the cotton candy, taking my boys at 2 and 6, holding them on MY lap, a tradition continued.
I let go, and let the child in me win. I forgot my boss, my kids, my ex, and my dad. I was just 5, still frightened of the clowns, but happy to ohhh and ahhhh and wiggle in my seat and clap and watch, openmouthed.
It all brings me back to a spiritual truth that has been attaching itself to me like velcro lately. Don't wait to live. Enjoy the feast of today, because tomorrow will just not be the same, ever. Later.

Thursday Morning~~
One month without writing here...can it be that long? It was my joy and routine to sit in my chair, every morning with my coffee and write, when i was back home in Michigan. I was a baby blogger then, absorbed in the sheer joy of expression.
As time went on and i made the move to maryland, i realized that people i know read my entries to capture my pulsepoint, and my joy was contaminated. But a writer must write; a painter must paint; and i have learned much these last months about survival, relationships, and choices.
I stopped a minute ago and stepped outside to see the bloom of pink in the morning sky. I am wearing my christmas gift from my youngest son, a wooly , limesherbert green robe, and i am barefoot in january. Barefoot in january, that in itself is a blessing. So is this blog.....later

Sunday Morning~~
You can always dance...It doesn't matter what challenges you face, just dance, anyway. Let go of your body sense, feel the rhythmn, and just dance. It is the same as stopping for a minute, and tilting your face towards the sun to savour it's warmth. It is the kiss that you taste, instead of a quick acknowledgement of ownership..
Light the candle, don't save it for a special occasion.Wear silk under your jeans. Smile at strangers that look sad or disgruntled. And remember, you can always dance. Off to work, later..

Wednesday Night~~
10 days...swimming deep out to sea..I have been asked, "what is a mermaid?" A mermaid is a sensual being..intimately intuned to the swirl of a sunlight wave, the feel of a warm current against her belly, the gentle push of sand and depth against the strength of her undulating tail.
Journeying, that's where i have been. Mermaids don't have mothers, and their fathers are long gone. They travel far, and sing sweetly, and sometimes find themselves in unfamiliar territory,thrown upon wet, salty rocks. They call to others, their own kind for replenishment and mutual acts of kindness, then move on to strangers, to practice their craft of bewitchment, exploration,education, and love. They always leave...wheither they want to or not. They leave behind bewilderment, and fierce lust for life, and longing, and, though it is not their intention, tears... How melodramatic, how sentimental...but, in this world of the practical, the material, how hypnotic a Mermaid is....
What does a mermaid look like? The glamour is always different., be she blonde or fiery red or burnished brown...What sets her apart is her innocent eyes, tempered by a wicked smile. Have no doubt, she will draw you in. Have no doubt, you will love her. And the one that finally keeps her, well, that's the one that got away. Later.

It is a fabulous late fall day here at the beach, and i am ALONE!! Such a sweet word, today..even though last night was a little spooky..J. is up north with my sister and brotherinlaw, working with her business. The house is as i left it last night, no footsteps but my own...this must be what life is like without kids..Last night i did the female version of "Risky Business" that movie with tom cruise, when he dances alone in his white socks and underwear. Felt silly, and wonderful!
I am off for a walk on the beach, bundled up and smiling..All problems, concerns and responsibilities can wait....later

Tuesday Night~~
Mermaids are intense. Mermaids are mysterious. Mermaids, when wounded, go deep, deep, into the darkest caverns, the coldest depths, until they can gasp a breath, can curl their tails around a sunken stone, and speak.
How did i know, when i started to write, that i was a mermaid? I didn't know my properties, didn't know the lore, but, as i write, as i become, i know in my heart that i was one all along.
People visit the sea. They hear the siren call, but, chose not to visit, to taste, to dream. I know i have friends like that, those that chose to taste, not swallow.
And then there are those that taste the mermaid menu, that swallow, slowly, thoughtfully, those that i give the spice, the scent, the desire for the unusual, the intriguing, those that want the sunrise, the sunset, and damn the mundane inbetween.
Did you see the movie "Splash"? When she was left loveless, without her land-locked lover, she became pale, and her scales flaked, and her lips were white.
I am that mermaid....yet, through parched lips, and lifeless tail, I survive. I have the audacity to survive, and flurish, nonetheless.
The veins that drawn and take my blood, i unerringly map to those that need it, as i need them. I am a survivor. That is my swansong, that is my apology, that is my debut.
I am prepping Thanksgiving dinner tonight, listening to Jill Scott, thinking about the Golden Gate Bridge, thinking about pink tulips, seeing Rikk's mouth, remembering all those i love, have loved, and focusing it on the meal i will take to jersey for thanksgiving. I have come back up from the deep. I am a mermaid, swimming, swimmming, blowing bubbles, laughing, weeping, salty tears, into the deep. Later.

Tuesday, Early Evening~~
I haven't blogged in so long i feel shy; like i am at my own party but i don't belong. I am quiet when things are wrong: I hold my fear closely to my chest. Things have been wrong...many things...indeed, they still are. However, I am resilient, i am a coping machine., i am a survivor.
Tonight i want to write about a part of my personality i don't like very much...It is my seeming inability to connect with those i love in a daily, civilized manner. Oh, i am great in a catastrophe, I am the true stormy weather friend, because not only will i give you my blood, i will deliver it personally. But, the art of friendship, in a loving, day to day basis...that is something i have a problem with. I might forget your birthday, i might not return your phone call or email. Why? i ask myself why? And, it always seems that "stuff" gets in the way... I run out of time.
Lately, it's because i have been feeling very sick... I don't want to elaborate, because i have the feeling that to say something, to write something, makes it concrete, makes it real, and if i can just deal with it, fight it, block it, it doesn't exist.
I have had anxiety attacks before in my life...I know myself well enough to know that my mind is SO strong, my focus SO intense, that, my body gets mightily pissed off at me ignoring it's subtle warning signs., and then ...BOOM!!! I am down...down with pains that frighten me...bold, red warning signs that tell me.."lady, you better find a way to decrease stress, because if you don't..well, THIS will be your life....
So, let's just say i have noted the warning signs,bells and whistles. I am trying very hard to be calm, to take baths, to meditate, to not worry. It seems to be working.
One of the people i hurt when i am going thru this is my brother. (Sorry, George!)Another is my dear friend Bob(Sorry, Bob!).
My brother George..ah, such a sweetiepie. I am 4 years older then him, and i can remember my first solid memory of him like it was yesterday... I was 6 years old, he was 2...it was my birthday, and he was in his black, hulking, baby stroller.(Imprisoned, is a better word..as the party flowed around him). July, and hot, and we lived in maryland. One of the kids invited to my party took cake, and smeared it in his mouth.He was delighted, but, as more cake then breath filled his mouth, he started to choke. I was outraged, frightened. didn't the kid know my beautiful baby brother couldn't breathe?.. I snatched the kid's hand away, and slapped it. (There is a picture in an old album, of me, roaring with anger, my hand in the baby carriage) I wiped Georgie's mouth, and got him his "baba". He looked at me with his stunning brown eyes, fringed with the thickest, blackest lashes, and i fell in love. I love him to this day, as intensely, though, i am sure it doesn't show. I would walk thru fire for him, my little brother, the comedian, the spoiled, the tender, the stubborn, brother of mine...Later

Thurday morning,
First, thanks so much Amadeus...for the foot-up on the writing hill....No time to write, but, i can feel it all coming....Later...

Wednesday Morning,
I haven't given up on being a mermaid, i am just being a silent swimmer...I have alot to digest, lately, and i am going through a period of withdrawal..To some that is a bad thing, to me, a necessity. It is a time of winter heart, when all seems lifeless, but, in reality, the bloom of spring is not far away. Later...

Wednesday Night~~
I am sitting here in my second set of work clothes, and i smell like pepperoni pizza.There is alot of insanity at the second job, amazing, jawdropping dramas. I am sure there is a book in there, somewhere.
Total ecilpse of the moon tonight, and here, the sky is ink, and stars stud the sky, and the moon is an eerie tangerine. I feel like howling; I feel like lying in the wet grass and just rolling.
I have hooked j. up with a local fisherman...today he was up and working, cleaning his boat. He gets paid for the days work tomorrow, but, tonight, he called me at the restaurant and asked me how to cook lobster. LOBSTER!!! Not a bad fringe benefit....He said it was the best meal he ever had...cooked it himself, and cleaned the house up, too.I am praying it is the beginning of a job for him.
Too tired to write more, up and at it at 5am...the old director and outreach coordinator's last day is tomorrow, and i am making swedish meatballs for the going away party. ..I wish I had time to work on my book...but, it will come when i get a little further down the road with the two new jobs.
I miss all my Mermaid friends, i miss you alot. I think of each of you so often, with love....Later.

Tuesday Night~~
I am so thankful i am female. In the words of a wise man that i respect and admire"men are 95%dog." I am sorry that i have had to experience the major aspect of that equation.....but, i have, with a resounding WOOF! WOOF!
I see women all around me, that are smart, savvy, and certainly capable of better decisions, that turn to fluff when their man starts ruffling his cock-feathers.
Why do they do this? Is is because if they upset their man they lose the key to their financial golden goose? Yup, sometimes. Is it because they don't want to deal with discord? Yup, absoleutely. Is it because they just know the waters, sharks and all., and don't feel like chumming elsewhere? You got it.
Forgive me for my ascerbic rendition of men. If women had penis's , i would be a lesbian. I find women much more compassionate, multitasked, and communicative then men.
To my male friends, please don't think i don't love you...i DO!! But can't you train you litter-mates in better behavior?
I.E>
don't slobber over us. It grosses us out
don't lie to us about your relationship status.( I love you, Genie and i are just WORK buddies...we just stopped over for a cocktail) We will smell you out for the dirty dog you are, and crucify you, somehow.
don't think foreplay is a one time thing, and once you sleep with us, you've done your job. Foreplay, to us, is lovemaking...your penetration is just the exclamation mark.
Let us cry. When we cry, we release all are gentleness, our aggression, without taking down the nation. It is much more intelligent to let us cry, and pat our backs, then let us get a knife in the middle of the night, in our Elvis t-shirts, and our bunny slippers.
What am i trying to say? Oh, Lord, guys....Just hold us...Just listen to us. It makes us melt, it makes us okay, and your safe for another day. Later

Saturday Afternoon~~
Such a busy mermaid!! I am not gliding thru the currents right now, I am joyously stroking the water powerfully, doing underwater somersaults and blowing bubbles, because i am WORKING again. I have alot of money problems, that's still true, but, I am WORKING, and it will only be a matter of time before i catch up.
I love working at the pizza place...I love my seniors....things are finally falling into place. I am meeting so many people i am getting dizzy from it all...I see them all as potential characters in my book (s), and in my mind's eye i hear them dialoging, i am describing them, i am making them come alive. I do this mostly when i cook, or clean, when i am in movement, because when my body is busy with other tasking, my mind seems to be at it's most potent.
I am making my way here in this new place. Once more, all i can say is thank you, God....for taking me out of the dark uncertainty of why i came, and helping me find purpose once again. Later.

Thursday Night~~
How does she do it? I walked thru the kitchen a moment ago, and smelled my mother's perfume....Lily of the Valley, a distinct and old fashioned scent...Not one to be confused with today's more sophisticated perfumes.
What was she telling me? Why did she leave me? I will never know, i will never fathom, why my mother is no longer my heart-pulsing, always fortifiying, best friend.
This is one of the cornerstones of my being, of my writing. My relationship with my mother. I didn't mean to write about her; she intruded on my consciousness with her scent. Will i ever be able to put her to rest? Will i ever be able to bring a flower to her grave, mumble platitudes, and go on?
I think not. My mother is an extension of my being. She is the blueprint of life for an unskilled laborer, learning from a master. I miss her. I have said this before, i have wept uncountable tears, i have come to grips and flown off the handle with the perfect storm of her leaving.
So, once again, Mommy, i pay you homage. I miss you. I was so lucky to be your daughter; I was in the chosen circle of your love. Were you a being brought to Earth just to teach love? I know those that didn't know you think i am just reveling in gently smudged matriachcal nostalgia...but, truly, that isn't it.
You loved everybody. Black, white, old, young, you were a camelian with a warm velvet coat. You were so sensitive, so exquistite in your heart. I think i am following you, as close as i can, except i am fearless in my fear.
You gave up. You refused to go thru tunnels and crawl thru mountains. I, on the other hand, as your daughter, wiggle thru tunnels, climb mountains, and write about the journey.
I guess I can do it because you made the Redbird sing in my heart. Love is the essence;you taught me. God will never give you a cross you can't carry;You taught me... And to those that are teachers, the hardest lessons are learned...you instilled in me.
The worst thing you taught me, the best thing you taught me, was:Love is of the essence...all else falls into place.....Later
Ps..i am pubishing this before i lose courage...I am naked without a towel....later.

Wednesday night~~
I am tired, so body tired...But my heart is singing, and i am happy. I loved being with my old folks today, learning all the admin and being there for them. I get so many hugs, so many kisses, i make them laugh and i watch over them. THen i went home, had a quick coffee, and into my redhotchilipepper chef pants(knew not to get rid of them) with my clunky black rockports and a tshirt...The chef is great, and threw me into the pot ...pointing to things on the menu and saying.."cook it"..So i did, and though my feet were screaming, i was creating, apron on, knife flying, flying myself by the seat of my pants.
Sleep, ah, to crawl into my lovely cloud bed, clothes flung to the floor, hugging my extra pillow...and do it all again tomorrow. I think with the two jobs i will be able to make it, and they are both jobs i love. Later....

Tuesday Night~~
I have written over 50,000 words on this blog...Happy Writing to Me!.This has been such an eventful 6 days...Truly, i am too tired to explain it all. Quickly, i have driven over 1,600 miles. I am no longer afraid of driving through mountains. I have started my job with the seniors, and tomorrow i start my second job as a cook in a little italian restaurant. Life is a huge challenge right now, and i have so many things to fix, consider, change and explore that i just want to crawl into my bed, pull up the covers, and hide.
Ain't going to happen. I will try to keep muddling thru, try to keep going forward, and, maybe, just maybe, all will be a bit clearer each passing day.
Ah, tomorrow, i so love tomorrows. They hold the promise of wounds healed, of battles won, of kisses taken, of whispers given...AND...my fourth poem is published on the internet writing site...It is so racy, it makes ME blush...yet, when i wrote it, it was written in singleminded devotion to physical communion....Later...this sleepy mermaid is doing the backstroke to the nearest warm reef, curling her tail around a sturdy buoy, and resting for the night...Later

Thursday afternoon~~
Have you ever had those times in your life where you knew God shined on you? I have..Holding my children in my arms, their skin like spring petals, their fingers curled around mine. Perfect hugs, where the essence and breath was of love..Rainbows and the scent of fresh cut grass and the glory of a spider web, irridesent in the dawn.
I am now employed..official title."Outreach Coordinator", at the Senior Center. I suppose it would help if i could spell my title, but, that's not what matters. It was a God-shining moment, as i ignored the Big Kahuna after he said congradulations, and turned to the big glass window where the seniors watched our every move. I smiled so big i thought i would burst, and my eyes were happyshining with tears. Two thumbs up!, I gave them, and they started clapping their hands in applause. I love them, and i can't wait to start on monday....Later..

Wednesday Night~~
Last night before i slept, i decided that if i didn't hear about working at the Senior Citizen Center, that i would take a job, any job, today. I was calm about my decision, but sorrowful..wanting so much to combine work with pleasure..for that is what it is for me each time i am there. I decided that i would still volunteer, any time i could, so it wouldn't be a total loss.
Yes, the darkest hour of night has passed..I am meeting the Big Kahuna from the Commission on Aging tomorrow at 10:15am. The present Director called me an hour or two after the phone call from the Big Guy, and said that i was going to be offered the secondary position. She said she had been on pins and needles, because there was a waiting list for the job, from people in the field, and he had chosen me over 20 some applicants. It's not for sure yet, i refuse to count those chickens before i see them hatched...buuuuttttt...it sure is looking good. Thanks, God. Later.

Wednesday Morning~~
I was going to write about the past weekend, probably will, because there were so many writing snapshots that long to be written about, but an experience yesterday won't leave me....Some things leave a writing itch that won't rest til it's scratched....
After a discouraging day of job hunting, i went to, of course you guessed it..the beach. Intuition guided me, and i found myself in a glorious place of high dunes,sea and sky. I wore my bulky sweater, and my mother's chiffon scarf in my hair, enjoying it's color and flutter in the chill wind as i walked. I walked til the few people about were mere dots, and settled on a high spot in the sand. The sea seemed to curl and break into frothy waves just for me, and i sat, half lotus position, and opened my heart to God. I felt my molecules dance and stir, i felt the rhythmn of the sea as my breath. I got up and started back along the beach, intending to go home and start dinner. Intuition demanded i take the dunes rather then the shore, and i found myself at an opening in the fence. Weathered planks formed what looked like a boardwalk to nowhere. Curious, i took the path. A lone tent greeted me, and the strains of violin and guitar. I was 20 feet away from them, as they sat on a picnic table and played. I sat down quietly, brushing the sand from my barefeet and putting on my boots. They played Celtic lovesongs and battlecries;flirty toetappers and tearful goodbyes. I looked to my right, at the pencil line of fence along the dunes,brilliantly foiled against the blue of the sky. Seven crows perched there,motionless,as they enjoyed the concert with me. I looked to my left, back at the gypsyking and his consort on guitar. I nodded my appreciation, with my hand on my heart...such beauty, such a gift. Then i walked on.

Monday Night~~
I am back...I left friday for North Jersey...just outside of Manhattan, where i lived as a child, and my brother and sister still live today.It was three days full of, FULL of, experiences...but, i am just to darn tired to write...i will see u all tomorrow...time for some well earned beautysleep...zzzzzzzzzzz Later

Thursday Night~~
Flora said it..."Love is All". She knows, because she has been a love vigilante..always ready to love, always ready to feel, no matter what has come before, no matter what is, no matter what will be. I follow her path curiously, because, i know, that with her singleminded determination, her heart, someone is going to mesh with her in such a complete, glorious way, that she will be an inspiration to that which i hold so dear: complete, satisfied, almost smug, yet gloriously ingenuous, love.
As for me? I am writing my book. I happened to give Rikk's portfolio to the wife of an artist's agent today...I never miss an opportunity to promote him. He seems far away, yet, i still hold him close...perhaps i am a fool, or perhaps, like he says, i just need alot of external attention, to prove love.
Posh! , i say. I just want so much to snuggle deep, that's all.
I have been cooking all day, and i am redolent with a peculiar perfume....garlic, and balsamic vinegar; asiago cheese and parmesan and tomatoes, cooked all day in a simmering sauce.
Food makes me crazy..perhaps that's why people like what i cook...I caress the vegetables before i slice them, i scrutinse them for color, and shape, and form...I taste, and stir, and fan the fragrant steam...and all the while, i whisper"God Bless You, Eat Well", adding the secret ingredient to my dishes..
I am not classicly trained, nor do i call myself a chef. I am so.....not marketable in this world. I should have been born in the fifties...wearing a frilly apron, cleaning the house, tending children, and kissing my husband dutifully on the cheek, as he came home from work.
Yah, all of today's women will hate that remark. But, between pot roast and homework, vaccumning and laundry, i could write, and garden, and not worry about the mortgage payment, or the utility bills. Trade off? sure. I bet Harriet Beecher Stowe ironed her husbands shirts, while she plotted the Underground Railroad. Later.

Wednesday Night~~
I am back...In the words of my tantric twin,it takes as long for me to heal, as the hurt i feel. I hide when i hurt...my family, and my lovers, know this. Lover...that is such an archaic word..but, truly, i have had lovers. "tantric twin"..i asked his permission, months ago, to write about him...I asked because he is no longer my physical lover, not the recipient any longer of notes, and whispers, and touch. But, my lover? always will be.
I say this knowing that it is going to make some people uncomfortable, but, how can u deny love? Love present, love past, love?
I planted angelique tulips for him. I stared into his great, green eyes, and life swirled around us. I lay in a tub, belly cramped, rendevous diverted, with cinnamon candles lighting my pain, searing my commitment, while he sat near me, and his voice gentled me. How can u ever forget such a passage? I can't.
He is a great man, though, he doesn't think so. He helps people with addictions, he is elegant, educated, lustful, and a prolific writer. I let him go, because i wasn't ready to be his consort. I had too many battles to fight, and i didn't want to splash him with the blood of my personal war. Lover, friend, tantric twin? All those..and my metaphysical counterpart.
At least, at the very least, i took him over the Golden Gate Bridge, hair flying, one hand on his thigh, as Barry White seranaded us, and his hand held mine. Later.

Saturday Night~~
I never hide my thoughts in my blog...as a matter of fact, i pride myself on my openness. Sometimes i think that by sharing my sorrows, as well as my joys, my failings, as well as my successes, that i might be able to connect with those in the same boat..to either show them how to get thru a difficult time, or how NOT to do something..
But, tonight, i am profoundly hurting, and this one is not one to share. So, if i don't write for awhile, please forgive me...
I'll be back....Later.

Friday Morning~~
It was a beautiful sunrise this morning..I sat on the backdeck in my blue batik robe and white socks, with my legs curled under me and my coffee in hand. The sky lightened under a filmy white mist, turning the tops of the trees pink, then golden.
I know i am still feeling lost, lonely, and frightened..but, i have to be thankful, anyway. I am luckier then most; i have my eyes and legs and hands..I had a warm bed last night and plenty to eat; if God takes care of the sparrows, then He will take care of me.
I will be back out there today, job hunting...I can't sit by the phone like a teenager waiting for it to ring.. I will finish cleaning the house, and making welcoming foods for J and R..and keep writing..
I started my book yesterday. I have a friend who is a writer, and she is going to critique and edit for me..Perhaps out of the heightened emotions i feel will come something good..This move was a bold one, high stakes for me, and i am not ready yet to throw down my cards...Later.

Thursday Night~~
I have not heard from the Great Kahuna, the bestower of jobs...Somehow i am translating this silence as a edictment of my life...No one loves me, no one appreciates me, no one will be there for me, in the middle of the night.
I know that isn't true.. i know i am loved. But am i loved exclusively,? I think not. I am sad, to sleep alone. I am sad, to go to the grocery store, alone. I am saving myself for R...but...am i deluding myself? I am so low, i wonder, what on earth am i doing? Does he send me sweet notes, or whisper in my ear? Nope. He isn't romantic, i know that....but...if you love a woman, isn't there a way to let her know?
Maybe he just doesn't care. Maybe all any man has ever wanted from me was my...well, let's call it my "lust for life"...
So be it. I will just grow my hair down to my bum, and, once again, for the record, "screw them all". I don't need a mate, i just long for one. I don't need a partner, i just long for one. As my family has always told me..."Lisa, you do much better on your own". Great. just great.
I will be a long haired old lady, cranky, with cats, and a red hat. At least, i will be able to say "screw it!" with authority and regularity. Later.
PS. hard to publish this one...wet eyes, like lazers, cutting thru the maybe's.