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December 26, 2012

Ode to a Layered Salad

Oh layered salad, how I love thee
With thy crunchy lettuce and celery
Sweet peas and shredded cheddar
Tang of vinegar and cream of mayo
Melded with yellow orb of boiled egg
You masquerade as health
(it is called salad after all)
But are full of not nutritiousness
And that makes me love you all the more
Especially the second day



December 16, 2012

The DNA Test

December 3rd was a big day - the DNA test from Ancestry.com was in the post - WHOOOO HOOOO!!

Anon CP received hers awhile ago. But for reasons we will not disclose here, (due to our Southern lady likeness), she had repeat the test. She got her second test the day after I got mine. So now we are just two days apart.

This week Ancestry sent me an email indicating they had my sample and it would be six-eight weeks before the results came back.

I am seriously excited about getting the results. I wish my parents were alive (and coherent), they both would have been really interested in this.


Amazing Grace

Thought we all needed some grace today, whether we are believers or not.

Pluck your own meaning from the definition. And your own favorite from the versions below.


We have bagpipes (of course), accompanied by beautiful photos of Scotland:



Judy Collins with the Harlem Boys Choir:


In Cherokee:




And finally, my current favorite by Tim Eriksen:




December 15, 2012

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

As I tried to sleep last night, my head was atumble with:

The photo of the boy in the plaid jacket with his hands over his mouth, his sister (I imagine) behind him, head down, arms around him.

I pictured scenes in bedrooms, living rooms, kitchens. The crying multiplied by twenty-seven multiplied by grandparents multiplied by aunts and uncles, multiplied by siblings, spouses, cousins, friends, teachers, towns, cities, the world.

Then back to the living rooms: the crying headache, the swollen eyes, the hoarseness from screaming why, the numbness after there are no more tears, the heartache for which there is no remedy. The checking and re-checking of bedrooms just one more time - in case this is a dream. The hoping for a miracle. The smelling of clothes, the looking at pictures, the phone calls. The repeating of the day, the pounding of reality with one more news story. The guilt of fights, no I-love-yous because of a rush. The sorrow of parents for everything done or not done. Never to be undone. Finally the anguished sleep by small beds.

The horror of "shopping" for a coffin; planning funerals, flowers, casseroles. The future of driving past the school, but no-one to pick up.

The holidays tainted, the joys of the season dashed. The not knowing what to say if yours was one who came home. More guilt, wondering why them and not us, but glad just the same. The fear of laughing or smiling. The counseling to come.

Heaven help us.