Shrimp Chips

When I was in middle school (but it was called junior high back then) my parents decided to take a cooking class together. They choose an introductory Chinese cuisine class…. But we all called it wok school. They would come home from the class and tell us all the things they learned like the right temp for the wok and why peanut oil was the ‘oil of choice’. One night they learned how to make shrimp chips. These are very common where I grew up in Ohio and came with soup at most Chinese restaurants, but they don’t seem as popular where we currently live.

When you buy them to cook at home, shrimp chips come in a small packet and look like limp potato chips. My parents carefully set their electric wok to the correct temp, measured out the right amount of peanut oil and we waited with anticipation for the oil to warm. They wanted my sisters and I to give them our undivided attention while we waited because they said it would be exciting. As a teenager, I felt it was as boring as watching paint dry. My parents chatted about their class and even as a kid I could tell that it was in my best interest to hang around and wait to find out why they were so excited.

When the oil was finally hot my Dad took a handful of the limp chips and tossed them into the oil. They immediately made a huge “Puff” and filled the wok. It was pretty impressive…. I always loved those chips and have taken my kids to Wah Fu’s… their favorite Chinese place while I was growing up. When I am there, I think of them- so happy showing us their wok skills and knowing all the ins and outs of the menu. They went back and took the “advanced” Chinese cuisine course too but none of the things they made were as impressive as those chips. J

Clam Bake Chicken

Every year while I was growing up we had a family clam bake. At first they were held at my Grandparents farm, later they were held at my Aunt Sue and Uncle Jerry’s. The menu was pretty much always the same. There were steamed clams that were put inside this huge square cooker and cooked on site and everyone brought sides and desserts to go with them. My Mom’s job was to make baked chicken. My Aunt Sue was always so happy that my Mom would bring the chicken… she said she hated making it. My Mom once asked why and she said hers never turned out as good as my mom’s…. but I think the real issue was the mess it made in the oven. Aunt Sue was a bit fanatical about keeping her oven clean, Mom- not so much.

So the recipe my mom used was to buy split halves of chicken from her local Pick-N-Pay, then use a sharp knife to cut them in half so she had 4 large pieces per chicken (and she bought LOTS of them for the clam bake) She put them on deep cookie sheets and slathered them with Italian salad dressing. (Everyone loved the flavor and thought it was marinated in something mysterious!) They would drip and ooze and spark a bit and mom would pull them out and put them in a huge roasting pan. She made them all on the morning of the clam bake so the huge pan was still warm when we got into the car and smelled great all the way to the party.

Every year I was expected to eat one clam and take a sip of clam juice (which looked like dirty water) then I could have chicken… and corn on the cob. I will still make chicken this way sometimes. Why not? I have a self-cleaning oven! J

Bicentennial Collection

In 1976 my Mom started collecting bicentennial quarters. There were many around and my Mom thought they would some day go up in value. They were easy to spot and her collection grew quickly. By 1980, she had A LOT of them. So many that she used them as a down payment on a built-in swimming pool for our back yard.

After the pool was built, Mom started collecting bicentennial quarters again. It was hard not to. Every time one of us in the family would get change we'd check our quarters and Mom would trade us for non-bicentennials that we would spend. They were getting a little harder to find by then, but Mom's collection quickly started to grow again.

When Mom died in 1999, my sisters and I split the quarters up and each took a third. It was still quite a few quarters. I put mine in a dresser drawer and figured I would just save them, maybe someday they would be worth more like my mom always hoped. Every once in a while I would get them out of the drawer and let the kids count them or stack them up into tall piles. I pretty much forgot about them, but Macy remembered them one morning when she was in 3rd grade and her lunch account at school was getting low. She had lunch money, but really wanted more for the extra treat line that had candy and chips.

She took a large plastic bag, filled it with the quarters and stuck it in her backpack on her way out the door. When I found out about a week later (due to all the candy and chip wrappers I found in her room and backpack) I was more angry that the lunch lady took the quarters without questioning where they had come from then I was that they were gone.

At the time, I told Macy I was disappointed with her and that I wished she hadn't taken them. That they were from my mother and she had no business going through my room and dresser. She was having lots of behavior issues at the time and I really did not think what I said made much of an impact.

A few months ago, I came home and Macy was sitting on the living room floor with a bunch of coins. She scooped them up and gave them to me. She told me she was collecting them while she was at work. Whenever someone brought in a bicentennial quarter, Macy would trade it with quarters she had and then save the bicentennials. Apparently, from the pile she had collected, she had been doing this for quite awhile.

She still collects them. Every once in awhile Macy will hand me 2-3 coins and say nothing. I say thank you and put them into my dresser again.  Sometimes I wonder if any of the coins are the same ones that my mother collected so many years ago... I guess I will never know. What I do know is that the tradition of collecting these coins has now crossed three generations and my daughter.... who really never got to know my mother- now has a connection to her. Bicentennial quarters always remind me of my mother, and now they will always remind Macy of me. That fact alone means Mom was right....those coins have definitely grown in value. :)

Potential Power

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.

- Leo Buscaglia

I liked the above quote a while back when I first saw it on a friend’s post. It immediately reminded me of my Mom. This was kind of her motto in life. She was the kind of person that lit up a room as soon as she entered it and started a party just by walking through the door. She worked as a merchandiser for Kraft Foods and went around to small grocery stores and checked to make sure none of the Kraft products were out of date and suggested new products to the stores. I went to work with her often when I was home from college or off for the summer.

One thing she always did was what I thought of as “flirting” with the manager… or assistant manager… or who ever she was directed to talk to when she first walked into a store. She totally turned on the charm. Even if she was grumpy in the car or not feeling well- when she talked to the manager her charisma always shot up several points. I asked her once why she did this. Did she know all of these people? Was she working on commission?

She told me that she felt her real job was to make people feel good. She said no one really cared about cheese (well maybe Phillip Morris did!) but she thought it was a good day if people felt better and were in a better mood as she left than they were when she got there. From what I saw~ they always were. J

Happy Birthday Mom.

Mother's Day Part 2

Anyone who knows me would find this picture very funny. My hair took hours to do.... there are flowers woven all through it. Plus there is a huge bow on the left side of my head. My nails are done too... with acrylic! I am wearing as much make up as Tammy Faye Baker and enough hair spray to kill low flying birds! That is also a dress I am wearing. See the shoulder pads! Those are the definition of puffy sleeves! It is an actual dress too.... and I survived in it the whole day! (OK, the heels I kept taking off!)

I am pretty sure this is the last dress I've worn. This picture was for my sister's wedding.

That is my Mom's real hair too! No air brushing.... just lots of hair spray! What this picture tells me is Mom has been gone a long time. She is still missed.

Happy Mother's Day to all the Mom's out there. :)

Mother's Day

Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mom’s out there! Mom’s Day has to be my favorite “Hallmark” holiday!  :)

Mom's Quarter

As a child one thing I looked forward to was when Mom had her card party over. There were 8-10 women in the card group and they met every other week at each other’s houses… so they were only at our house a couple times a year, but it was always an “Event” we looked forward to. First of all it meant good food. There were salads and desserts and all kinds of interesting things Mom would put out for her guests that we were allowed to “sample” after everyone else had eaten. These included junk food and pop… something we did not have a lot of normally. My favorite of my Mom’s friends was Joy because she loved M&M’s. Mom always got M&M’s for her and we were allowed to have some too. (Plus Joy would sneak us some when Mom wasn’t looking) I think a lot of women at the time had groups. We lived in the kind of neighborhood where there were women who met for book clubs and for Tupperware parties and even a few investment clubs. Mom’s group played poker. There was betting and smoking and swearing and laughing well into the wee hours of the night. These women all went to high school together and were a very close-knit group. They did not let just anyone in. I think they were mostly cheerleaders and baton twirlers from Mom’s school (Class of ’61) but they were a rowdy bunch! When my sisters and I were little, if we didn’t argue in the living room, Mom would forget that we were awake and we’d get to stay up well past bedtime. When we were older we got to waitress (it was a big deal at the time) and fetch food and drinks for the ladies and they’d “tip us” with coins. Then, finally, we KNEW we were mature when they would let us sit in for a hand while they made a phone call or ran to the bathroom. When we did go to bed it was very hard to sleep because of the talking and the laughing that continued well into the night. (I think these parties always ended by 1 AM or so….. but to a kid that is LATE!) One of the rules they had was that everyone started out with the same amount of money. I think it was $20 or $25, but I don’t remember. When someone lost it all they got to play for free. They played a game called “High/Low” where there were two pots of money… one for the best hand and one for the worst. To say you were going for the best hand you had to have a quarter, so if you were broke, another player was always making sure you had at least one quarter. At the end of the night, everyone left with at least a quarter. No one ever lost everything. Thirteen years ago last Sunday, Mom was the first of all the card group members to pass away. The whole group took it hard and every one of them showed up. They asked to be pallbearers and we said yes. (My uncles were not thrilled to have a bunch of women helping them with the casket… but I am pretty sure the card group felt the same way about them!) The other thing they asked was if they could put a quarter in Mom’s pocket. We said yes to that too. We knew she’d be waiting for her friends in Heaven and we wanted to make sure she’d be able to play. :)

Wrigley's Gum

While visiting for the holidays to the "salt" side of the family, my sister L had us all meet at one of her favorite hangouts for breakfast. This place will never be seen on any travel show (which "L" warned us about before we agreed to go) The booths are duck taped and the ceiling is a bit droopy, but the wall decorations were fantastic. There were album covers from singers like Connie Francis (my Grandfathers favorite singer) and a set of hot rollers like my Grandma owned in the early 70's. There was also this picture on the wall from Wrigley's gum.

In the early 80's my Mom was into an Investment Club which she heard about through the public library. People got together and sold each other one share of the stock they owned. It was a way of avoiding stock broker charges and was meant to help build people's stock portfolio's. Mom had one stock in quite a few companies. She especially liked companies with what she called "perks". Wrigley's had one of the best perk programs. Every year, around the holidays they would send all their stock holders some new or interesting product they were promoting. She loved getting their stripped gum one year, and then liquid filled the next.

When we were teens Mom bought a few more stocks in Wrigley's and gave one to my sisters and I. We all had 1 share of stock in Wrigley's gum. We all started getting the end of the year perk package in the mail. I don't know that any of us really thought it was that great.... until the year she died. She died in March so when the Wrigley's package came in December it was almost like the gift was from her. Every year, Mom's gift came.

After 9 years of these gifts, I got a letter from Wrigley's. They were being bought by Mars/M&M so they wanted to buy the stock back. There was a check for just over $100 for the shares (it had split a few times by then) I still buy Wrigley's when I get the chance and will always appreciate the yearly gum gifts from Mom. :)

Fridge Cleaning

This is our fridge. It is right after I have cleaned it and before we went grocery shopping. Notice the glass shelves in it? Pepper and I did not buy this fridge, it was in the house when we moved in. But years ago when I lived with my Mom, she and I bought a fridge. She wanted one with white shelves and I wanted one with glass shelves.

I said I ‘liked the look’ of the glass shelves better and she told me that if we got that fridge I would be the one that had to clean them, implying that stains and spills were more obvious on clear glass. I agreed. Similarly to the way Dill agreed to clean the cat boxes every day if we let him get his cats, Jinx and Binx. Meaning, I had no intention of holding up my end of the bargain past the first week. And, also similar to the way we are making Dill clean the cat boxes, my mother had no intention of letting me out of the fridge cleaning task.

So, I cleaned the fridge out every week or so on grocery-shopping day and I started liking those stupid glass shelves less and less. When Pepper and I had to buy our first fridge for our first home, I insisted on white shelves. Pepper did not seem to care one way or the other so we bought the one with white shelves. Do you know what I learned? White shelves stay no cleaner than clear ones! Ok, maybe milk doesn’t show up as well on the white, but any other spill shows up just as well, if not more so!

When my mom came to visit I mentioned this fact to her and she just smiled. Then she said, “I know, but I always hated cleaning out the fridge.”

My mouth dropped because I realized I had been duped! By my own mother! I realized that had I said I really liked the white shelves all those years ago, Mom would have implied that those were harder to clean and I’d still have been the one to have to clean them!

Nowadays, I’m still the one that usually cleans out the fridge, although if I ignore it long enough Pepper will take on the task. Every once in awhile when J comes to visit she will take it upon herself to clean it out and it thrills me when she does. But no matter who cleans it, opening the fridge and seeing clean shelves always reminds me of my mom and how she tricked me. I can’t help but smile. ☺

Mom age 3

This is one of my favorite pictures of my Mom. It has a lot of glare and shadows on it because Dori snapped the picture while it was on the wall in a frame, but considering it was probably taken around 1946, I thought it looked pretty good. It is hanging in my Grandmothers room and I asked her about it when I visited her over Christmas. (I realize this is June but I just remembered I had this picture and I thought I would post it as a remembrance of her birthday this year)

So I asked my Grandmother about the picture and she said that the neighbor was a photographer and often asked to take pictures of my mom and her brothers. In the picture she is about three years old. I asked where the picture was taken and she said she thought it was taken in the neighbor’s basement…. But she wasn’t sure because she wasn’t there.

It was very hard not to have horror images flash in my mind from “The Butterfly Effect”… a movie that made me not let my own kids go anywhere for several weeks and still gives me the creeps when I think about it. I can’t imagine allowing any of my kids to go hang out in some neighbors basement while he took pictures of them that I wasn’t there to see….. but this was 1946. It was a different time.

When I look at this picture, the round face reminds me of Macy, but the eyes are different. This is before my mom broke her nose, so it is still cute. Mom fell out of a moving car when she was a little older and she never liked her nose after that. (It is a definite plug for why kids should always be seat belted) ….. Apparently cinders and rocks do not help the breathing process! It was also right before her brother’s found two long sticks and an old sheet and made a stretcher (they learned how while in the boy scouts). They wanted to try out the stretcher and mom wanted to be the first to ride on it. They insisted that it had to be used by an INJURED person. … so mom jumped off the roof of the barn and made her brothers quite happy.

Today would have been Mom’s 68th birthday. :)

Still missed....

It is hard to believe that it has been 12 years, Mom. You are still missed. Every day.

A Mother's Day Poem

Don't think of her as gone away

Her journey's just begun 

Life holds so many facets 

This earth is only one

Just think of her as resting

From the sorrows and the tears 

In a place of warmth and comfort

Where there are no days or years

Think how she must be wishing

That we could know today 

Nothing but our sadness

Can really pass away

And think of her as living

In the hearts of those she touched

For nothing loved is ever lost

And she was loved very, very much


Happy Mother’s Day Mom.

My Mom

I know I drive Pepper crazy every year in March around this time. For some reason, although I am really good with dates... birth dates, anniversaries... that sort of thing, I can never remember the exact date my Mom died. It has been several years now...12, but still it hasn't been so long that I should completely forget. It used to be much easier to find out the exact date... I could just go into the newspapers obituaries, then, after a few years, into the papers archives to find the date. Last year it seemed more challenging, but with Pepper's help, we did finally find it. This year, I couldn't find it. Pepper couldn't find it either. I've been searching all weekend. Every time I even got close.... it would tell me to put in my credit card number and even then I don't know that the results were right. Having a common last name and a common maiden name makes it pretty tough to find any information about just her. Some lady with the same name died in North Dakota the same year. I do not think my mother was ever even in North Dakota! Then the searches kept coming up with people with the same first name and the maiden name, or the middle name and the last name, but not together.... absolutely no help at all.

I finally resorted to calling my sister, which I really did not want to do. I figured she would remember but I hated to have to ask her... and to let her know that I forgot. She was out to lunch with her daughter... who was having a rough weekend herself. My niece's best friend's mom died yesterday. Unexpectedly. They attend the same middle school. The best friend is the one that found her mom. They do not know what happened yet. I guess I should be happy that I at least got to have my Mom attend my high school and college graduation ceremonies... and that she got to meet all but one of my kids. I wish I still wasn't so mad that she died so young. I wish I didn't struggle so hard to remember that she died on March 11, 1999 when she was 54 years old. I wish I didn't have to remember that she died at all.

Easy As Pie.

Megamom has been talking about her daughters new sport…. Baton twirling. She was just in a parade and loved the sparkling costumes, the little tattoo she got to wear and all the excitement around her (and I am talking about how excited Megamom gets talking about it, I am sure her daughter was excited too!!) It actually reminded me of my own mother who was also a baton twirler in high school. Mom used to get her fire baton out every fall when I was young. She kept it in a corner of the garage, so it was usually while the whole family was cleaning that we would come across it. We all begged her to show us how to do it. It really never took to much convincing for her to say yes. (I think it was probably a combination of wondering if she still ‘had it’ and getting out of cleaning the garage for a while.) Dad would always have fuel to put in it and we would all get ready to watch. My job was to hold the garden hose, “just in case something went wrong”, Dad said. I always secretly hoped that I would get to spray. The idea of getting to soak my mother down with water would be hilarious, plus I would also get to be the hero that saved the whole neighborhood from burning down! I took my job very seriously, but it never happened…. there was always a chance though! Mom always started out slow and cautiously. She would show the 3 of us the mechanics of how to do each spin and twirl. We all knew these moves. We all had received batons of our own just about every Christmas…. Why did Santa think we even wanted one?! I loved watching the way the flames lit up my Mom’s eyes as the fire twirled close by her face and the whooshing sound of the flame in the wind as it started to spin faster. She would work up to throwing it in the air. Our eyes would be wide open and we held our breath. She caught it every time. This was the sport. It was not what we did with our batons, Mom had skill. She looked so graceful when she twirled that baton. It always impresses me that people can make some things look so darn easy. Pepper can memorize anything she reads instantly. Taking college courses with her was always frustrating. Skip can whip up a dinner for 20 and not even break a sweat. Our rector can come up with a perfectly personalized prayer on the spur of the moment. Sometimes, my kids are impressed with how easy I can make driving look, especially when they try to move the car around our yard. My kindergarten students are impressed with how perfectly I can cut out a circle. Everyone has skills. I probably owned and had access to 20 batons growing up and a mother just wishing she could impart her knowledge on me…. But, Baton twirling was not one of my skills. Now spraying that hose… I bet I’d have been damned good at that!! ☺

Macy's Bangs

Yesterday, Macy mentioned that she thought her bangs were getting too long. Since they go down to her chin, I would have to agree. Macy has a love hate relationship with her hair. Throughout elementary school she liked to keep it very short. So short, in fact that she was often called a boy. At times, she liked that, at times she didn’t. When she started middle school she started to let her hair grow out. At this point, her hair is quite long and quite pretty.

She asked me to cut her bangs. This stunned me. I can barely cut out coupons from the Sunday paper and my 8th grade daughter wants me to cut her current pride and joy?! …. Her mane of hair. It reminded me of a story from a long time ago when my Grandmother thought my bangs were too long.

Grandma used to babysit me and told my mother that she thought my hair was getting too long. My mother just kind of ignored my grandmother. She was waiting for my hair to get long enough so that she could pull it all back into a pony tail. (Pretty much the ONLY style my mother could do, so I would wear a pony tail from kindergarten until I finally rebelled in about 4th grade)

So the next day, since my mother did not take care of the issue, Grandma decided to “help” by cutting my bangs for my mother. There were 2 problems with this plan. First, I was about three and did not feel the need to hold still for a hair cut and second, Grandma only had pinking shears. Pinking shears were never meant to cut hair. (Those are those scissors that have zigzag blades… they make sewing patterns look good and paper look great…. But bangs: yikes!!)

Apparently, Grandma kept trying to make them straight across…. Then tried again, and tried again…and again…. I basically had eyebrows and stubble when she finally gave up. When Dad got home he said Grandma might as well have used a weedwacker!!

So Macy, I will leave your bangs to the professionals. ☺

10th before 50...

This is my 49th post. Megamom keeps telling me that my 50th post is a big deal and I need to do something special for it. So I have an idea for my 50th, but I have wanted to wait to do that one until after I get through this one.... sort of like a reward to myself. My Mom should be 64. Sadly, tomorrow is the 10th anniversary of her death. They say time heals all wounds, but that is just BS. It just dulls them a bit.

I used to talk to my Mom on the phone at least once a week, usually on Saturday afternoons. Nothing earth shattering or important, just to touch base with each other. We talked about what was going on in each other's lives, what was happening with family members and we were writing a book together so we talked a lot about that. It took years for my stomach to not jump on a Saturday night thinking I had forgotten to call her. Recently, I got a junk email from a investigation company promising to provide my Mother's current phone number and address if I just paypalled them $39.95. I was tempted to do it because I really miss those calls. Think they have phones in heaven or at least a mailbox?

I often have a hard time visiting my youngest sister because she has so many of the same mannerisms that my Mom had. Sometimes it comforts me to remember things about my Mom's behavior by watching her but often it just makes me miss her more. It amazes me that my sister can still live in the same area that we lived in as kids.... every time I visit it just makes me sad.

Mom was very consistent as a parent. It made up for the fact that Dad was not really consistent at all. Mom had two responses whenever one of us kids asked her something (like going to a friends house or doing something special) either "No" or "Maybe". If she said no... we knew not to even bother talking about the topic anymore. If she said maybe, that was almost as good as a "yes". She would be open to hearing more about our idea or plan. I wish I did that with my own kids.... if I had started that when they were little I'd have a lot less arguing in my life now! She also did not really believe in hospitals...which is funny because she worked at our local hospital for years. She was the phone operator and knew everyone and every thing that went on there. Mom believed that any injury could be cured by one of 3 things.... cold water, an aspirin or a band-aid. If we were hurt or crying she would say "Go run cold water on it" or "Let me get a band-aid" if it was really bad... she told us to take an aspirin too.

My Mom was the type of person that started a party. As soon as she arrived at a get together it turned into a party... people smiled, laughed and the air became lighter. She made people happy just by saying hello to them. She was a very good listener and was very thoughtful about her responses. Mom almost never swore. If she was upset with me, she could say "Lee, what the hell were you thinking?" It was like a slap in the face. It was awful to see her upset or cry. She did not cry very often but it was heart wrenching to me when she did. Only a handful of people ever saw her without make-up or her hair unbrushed. As soon as she got up she brushed her hair and whenever we were 10 minutes from anywhere we were traveling to she got her brush out of her purse and had us all brush our hair. Mom loved her back porch. It was only a 3 season room, so in late fall and very early spring she would bundle up to sit on her porch with coffee and her newspaper. In summer she would take frequent, quick dips in our pool and would go back on the porch with her feet up. She looked so comfortable out there and so content. She hated shoes. She loved going barefoot around our house and in our yard around the pool. We actually buried her without shoes. I am sure it is what she would have wanted.

I really wish she could have gotten to spend more time with her Grandchildren. I think she'd really be proud of how they are growing up. They are all such great kids. I wish she was around to give me advice too.... and I really miss those Saturday calls.

Post-Christmas thoughts

So Christmas is over... the kids have opened all their gifts, we did whirlwind visits to as much family as we could fit in, Christmas was white (although a little rainy and icy too), faraway friends and family were thought of, the candlelight service and the children's pageant were both enjoyed and all is at peace in my world. I think this may have been my best Christmas ever. Not in a what 'I got' sense... because honestly the two things I thought I'd get this year weren't under the tree. (Lots of great stuff was... I am just usually a really good guesser!) More in what I learned about the people in my life... I am damn lucky. 

We cut back on gifts this year... who didn't, right?! But there was this little guilt feeling that the kids would notice and be disappointed. That family and friends would have expected better, that in the recesses of their minds it meant we loved them less. 

Actually the opposite happened. My sister called and asked if she could come visit. I hadn't been going 'home' lately, so she decided to come to me. When we talked about gifts for all our kids, she said, "Let's just do stuff. I'd rather spend time with you and have our families do things together than try to give each other random things." When did she get so smart? 

At every relatives house, our kids felt loved and comfortable. I remember going to my father's parents house as a child. It was always stiff and tense and we kids needed to "slow down" and "be quieter". There was none of that in the places my kids went this year. At all the grandparents homes and the aunts and uncles there was just joy and people interested in what the kids were up too. That was the best gift ever.

Special note... I've been thinking about the 'secret identity' I wanted to call Pepper's parents. We went to their house yesterday for dinner and the whole family was there.... which hadn't happened for quite awhile. Pepper's Dad was so adorable... the kids all went together and bought him a Nintendo DS... he's wanted a computer chess game and it seemed like the best way to go. He barely put it down the whole time we were there. He was sitting in the living room with all the kids... they ALL had there noses buried in their DS's.... he looked like a kid in a candy store!! I had to take a picture because he just made me smile. Speaking of smiling... I realized sitting at the table last night that all the women in Pepper's family have the best smiles. When they are happy they smile with their whole face. Their eyes light up and their faces brighten. I love to just watch them all be happy. I noticed I turn into a comedian there just to nudge it along. I probably drive them all crazy! It was a very enjoyable day and I really feel loved and comfortable myself when I am there. So, about those secret identities, I've got the perfect ones.... Mom and Dad. I hope they don't mind.

Thanks for reading.... everyone is up, I can hear my sister hunting for coffee-- I better go help.  :)