This is Austin

I started to do some stuff today. Some stuff at the back of my mind and then maybe a box of associated stuff to disperse. Fog. File. At the back of my mind. That fog of childhood memories that bring to the front some of the sweetest but so far away IN THE NOW. Like an aroma can blast you back sometimes a rememory, time remembered.

When you are reminded of a sweet place of young. When you can feel that time of used to be.

We played, first introduced, in a box like this. I let this be my moment to remember too, papers inside.

He did actually still me.

This is Ginger

We found Hidden Lily last summer and planted her in a medium pot on the patio. She grew like a weed. A lovely weed. We decided to move her to a bigger pot in the yard so I cut her into four sections and replanted the pieces close to the rim of that bigger pot. It smelled so delicious because this is in the Ginger family. I should call her Lily but I don't.

What is the first thing? That first thing we know, is what? Actually this is a test.

The best layed plans

I've had this egg routine I dance with. I cannot remember when it all started to run like a waltz. A dozen of eggs can hang in there for quite a while. Long ago we never knew that because we ate them all the time, sometimes from the back yard, difficult to remember running out of eggs. Then the sky started to fall and once, I threw eggs away. I met a bad egg, but I think he was bad when he got here. I don't think he went bad in my fridge. His buddies were still right but they were hanging with the bad egg. I ate them anyway. You can dip an egg in warm soft gooey wax and go sailing for 10 months (egg in air/not fridge) Is that so cool to know? One dozen eggs, down to 6 or 8 or 7, and then I go buy another dozen. I take the deserted dozen and boil them. Sometimes I 'H' them and put their crate underneath the new guys. Sometimes I 'H' their crate.....they still go on the bottom.

Well somewhere along the line. I become omnivorant and decide, I know. I have six or five 'H' eggs in the fridge and I have four or seven regular good ol guys, in the fridge.

Two nights ago I had a bacon/egg/cheese sandwich, so yummy, for lunch. AT 2 AM. Remember the owls? Well I know where all the eggs are. I'm clairvoyant, member?

I want egg salad for this evenings dinner 10 pm. (adjusting to the not owl) I became the oh so pompous PPLLEEAASSEE!! egg princess. Tis no longer necessary to tattoo the fowl. I take out the preferred egg crate and smack an 'H' egg on the counter and have immediately homicided a perfectly good, good ol boy egg.

4 eggs in the lemon cake. I know I KNOW it's so so bad, but it is so good. He was a good egg. I will call 911 and turn myself in right after the cake comes out of the oven. I wanted egg-salad.

I've just wondered. What is this like??? Today is my First Born Daughter's birthday. Love to her. Forever.

Sunset at the North Pole.

This picture was taken the week Of May 11, 2009 at the North Pole. Something I will never see in person but since it's not on my 'list' all is fine by me. Awesome raw beauty and something nether world about it, I think, as it should be.

sometimes there is a time to do this mood. No words to pass, just steady breathing. Then that pin to aware of the breathing. It's rather very cool to listen to someone breathing. Not consistent when they're not thinking about but it is their thinking that affects the rhythm. Thinking and breathing. Thank God not one needs the other.

Grin and bear it. This too shall pass. I am all with the ability to be able to change your own mind, I believe in the power of positive thinking. Mental acuity is a learned ability. Like eloquence of speech or that leather bound mesmerizer there are no coincidences. One dweller to an others flit. This is what you should have done, this is when you should have done it and this is how you should have..... Perfect, of course.

I've never been sick. Is it sick? I've not been infected with debilitation. To impair the strength of, weak, weaken. I looked up debilitate and was ok there and then I looked up weak. So I acknowledge this and will move on. I'm the flit. I have things to do. Things I don't want to do. Mostly because I'm not sure how to start, I don't want to and I'm afraid to.....because I don't know how. I might think it would be easier on me if I had brothers or sisters but I don't because I'm not supposed to. Fate? Yes, The Fates decided. I don't toss it on the Gods and get away with exonerating myself. Fate to me is a path, choices made along the way, directions taken, provide a concept of your decisions to the life you are living. So, if on your path of life you turn left and walk into a tree. This is not a mistake . The choices we make are not mistakes. How can they be? This has helped, belching it out. Usually does, huh? Give me a minute to think and I formulate my answers. Let me have a moment to ponder and the answers will present themselves. Now that it's mentioned, Thanks, I'll take a moment.

I grew up in San Diego, California. I am a Princess. Whomever that offends.....get over it and any one jealous....someone has to be, it was me. Ask my Dad. There are no ants/alligators/ants/mosquitoes/ants/sand fleas/ants...did I say ants?.... in San Diego. no ants that bite people.

I'm in Florida and you cannot lay on the grass and watch clouds. You cannot lay on the grass and count stars. You walk on the grass but do not stop, just keep moving. I want to have

ant bait

people over next weekend to play Ladder Golf and celebrate.

Mr. Frank got a new patio set for Dad's day and the board walk at the back of the property is almost done. It would be our first party here. The Lizards and Snakes under the board walk. Ok wait. LMAO, really, sorry. OK, so and the Squirrels all over wherever they want...pretty much sets us for some fun. I want to play Ladder Golf in the grass. So I fed them today. The ants. I've done so before when the have totally INVADED some spot not meant for them or I needed for them to be gone. Always thought they were gone. Fine. Dead. Oh please, they just move. I never noticed. Deny deny deny, court posturing. I actually have been fine with this. They are not allowed in my kitchen, have never pushed the issue. Well, I copped an attitude today and decided I could kill them. It's illegal to own an anteater in Florida or transport them or something. So I fed them. I have seen before the terror, Chicken Little. They settle, then take new offerings into the hole. Today. Today, they picked up the debris and ran away from the entrance to the city. Each one of them to pick up poison left. I don't smush spiders. What was I thinking? Did you know there are mosquitoes on St Thomas but not on St. John? There are no fleas in Connecticut.

I remember a very very long time ago, red ants. In Texas they were red ants. I'm in Florida now and they are called fire ants. They were probably red ants then too, a very very long time ago. A child in Texas was brutally attacked because how can you ever be politely attacked, ever? News media have all the adjectives. I believe it was my first childhood trauma with another living other than human form. Ants. Just that same story of how it happens the very first time in your life. Me, standing there, minding my own business. Oh and for heavens sake and mine too, having a fine wonderful time. It wasn't like I was standing there getting a dress down. Why was I so still? THEY, much organized. Nothing like the Florida model. When a Florida ant crawls up on me it bites the wholly living fricken/frackin poop outta me. ONE bite.
TEXAS. Maybe I really wasn't standing there that long. I did like waaaahh? It was not "A" bite. Commando attack, all in position. All 4,000 of them in position up my pants before the attack was launched;. My Dad never hesitated. I think he saw my eyes before I could take enough air in......I saw his eyes too as he was bolting at me. Locked...he knew. All at one time I was hurt. I started to slap at my pants just as he reached me. He was screaming for my Mom. His scream scared me more.........I didn't know yet. My Dad stripped me. I just thought I could swat at whatever was buggin me. My Dad didn't even say one word to me.....he yanked my pants off. I was MORTIFIED. It was the front yard. I still had no idea what was going on. My Dad had gone insane, I was very afraid..........OF HIM! I really wanted my Mom. The look in hers eyes that met mine as she came upon both of us...still too close to the mound, let me be a bit more frightened. My Mom scared me. My Dad strips. She yanks both of us to the cement and turns the hose on us. How many? How many? My Mom asks over and over. I still don't have a clue. I'm wet, feel fine, in my Dad's arms being carried to the house............when it starts to burn.