"Little Grandma"

This is my very, very happy Great- Grandmother, Florence, in Scotland. Little Grandma was known for packing light, and traveling the world with just one suitcase.

We called her Little Grandma because she was the smallest of all Grandmothers. She was always smiling and happy, and quite frequently holding my brother, William or I. One of my earliest memories was of dancing jigs with her on her 91st birthday. She danced the highland fling and later the piper played one of those syrupy un-timed tunes one does not hear too often.

(I am still dancing, Little Grandma!)

Lillian Grace

Yes, She is the most adorable kid You have ever seen!

Count Downs

9 days till I fly to Chicago

10 days till I hang out with Wild Bill and Aunt Mary

11 days till I go to Riot Fest 2009

12 days till I get to see the Dead Milkmen

14 days till I fly back to the park

15 days till I start my much better job!

As A Small Child...(For my Baby Brother, on his 20th Birthday)

As a small childI often felt alone
whether in the same room with my vocal family
or from the dark stairwell above
listening to their oh so poigniantly temporary enjoyment of life,
or peacefully alone in a room
memorizing the pattern of a particular wallpaper
or tile.
I would feel the beauty or sadness in a moment
The current of which would sweep me off to another land
A small island
where my soul could sing or cry
dance or bask in the sun soaked rain of emotions
in a way i was unable to around people.
I knew the god they spoke of came from the same space as fairy tales
and that the real power in the universe was
far more Everything
then they let on.
I had chosen to be here
but was a bit lonely
waiting for my kindred.
Someone had to speak this wordless language
of observation!
Michael was finally born into this world when I was 11.
He knew a place a lot like my island.
Said he'd just been there himself.
When I felt that current take me away, I took him with me.
Oh, he was a wise man,
Small and kind.
Stronger then anyone I'd ever met.
Accepted me.
Understood everything.
All the time.
I would sit on the dark steps
holding his pudgy body to my chest
and cry on his shoulder
as he held onto me
because that is what babies are are supposed to do.
12-25-2007

When The Pin Hits The Shell (er, Primer)

Some objects are more sacred than others.

My Daddy bought me my first gun in 2004, a Sig Sauer P229 40 cal with 3 high cap mags, light rail and trijicon night sights. This came from the man who taught me how to whittle, carry a hatchet, bank a fire and have all sorts of adventures in the big woods, but would not allow me to carry a full sized pocket knife when in civilization.
I was his first born, the only girl child in my family, and the only female among all of my 1st cousins till I was in my late teens. I argued with him, and begged and pleaded for a 9mm Glock in high school. He saw no reason for his vegetarian pacifist artist of a daughter to be interested in such things. so the subject was dropped. I went off to Art school, at Kent State and got lost until I woke up years later in the Canyon one day, knowing not who I was, but what I was made of.

Whilst mi Madre was convinced that I only had to wear a bullet proof vest at my new job for insurance reasons (note: the federal government does not take out insurance policies on its business practices) because no one would EVER want to hurt a Park Ranger, mi Padre acknowledged and supported that which was pulling me forward. We were on the same team, just like when I was a small child in Harfleur, always claiming, through bready smiles, that the end of the baguette got caught yet again in the elevator on the way back from the market. (Firearms and Baked goods are of equal importance.)
Some time later I fell in love with a boy. We had the exact same hand guns with the same features, and took this (as well as some other secrets) as a sign of our eternal compatibility. It was not.

My gun totting, tree hugging, granola crunching body broke my wrist whilst sliding across the ice on the way back from the recycle bin. I fractured a tiny moon shaped bone, called the Lunate, and then fractured it over and over again until the marrow seeped out, whilst trying to improve my suddenly declining firearms skills. While my wrist is healed, my grip changed, as did my once passionate love affair. I can shoot a Sig 45 with great accuracy, but the 40 cal just does not sit in my palm as it once did, nor does my love sit inside my soul.

My love told me at one time in the past, that he would buy my Sig from me if I wanted to sell it, so that our matching pistols would always be together, and I could more easily afford a 45. He mentioned this again the other day in an email regarding the final serration of all our belongings. He has a new love, a young love, in his home and, hopefully, in his heart. While I am perfectly blissed out in my life, I would feel more comfortable were he to give his object of affection my entire collection of lingerie then ever give her the opportunity to pull back my 10lb/4.5lb double action/single action trigger.
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Lyrics of the Day by Drive-By Truckers

PIN HITS THE SHELL

You can lie to your Mama,
you can lie to your race
but you can't lie to nobody
with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that you're so afraid
is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer to
when the pin hits the shell.
Your sister's been blaming everybody.
I don't blame her, man,
I guess I'd blame them too
if you was my brother, man,
I'd probably stand by you.
But you ain't, man, so I got to go my way.

And I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horse
Cause I got thrown off of one
when I was young and I ain't no cowboy
so I ain't going where I don't belong.
It wouldn't do you no good to let you know
that it damned near killed me too
so I ain't gonna mourn for you, man,
now that you're gone.

Me and you, we liked our pills and our whiskey.
But you don't want your head full of either one
when the house gets quiet and dark.
Having fun used to be so damned easy,
racing trains from 2nd Street to Avalon.
Take a trip down memory lane,
You don't see no friendly faces
all the houses have been painted
and nobody knows your name.
It's enough to make a man not want
to be nobody's Daddy,
when all he thinks he's got left to hand down is guilt and shame.

And I ain't gonna crawl upon no high horse........
Cause I got thrown off of one
when I was young and I ain't no cowboy
so I ain't going where I don't belong. I
t wouldn't do you no good to let you know
that it damned near killed me too
so I ain't gonna mourn for you, man,
now that you're gone.

You can lie to your Mama,
you can lie to your race
but you can't lie to nobody
with that cold steel in your face.
And the same God that you're so afraid
is gonna send you to hell
is the same one you're gonna answer to
when the pin hits the shell.

06-11-2008