Roxie

Spring break has come and gone. It was quite the productive week, too. There was still a lot of leftover mess from the December 1st winds...front garden, garden bench, back garden, tiki grotto, and the patio. Then, there was the laundry to catch up on, the cleaning for the upcoming Sunday brunch. I was focused and on task! What a difference a few days off from work made!

Monday afternoon (after a full day on the back patio), as I was sitting on the front porch, wine glass in hand, I tried to catch up on my notes in my garden journal. The weather was fabulous, a cool breeze in the air...a perfect and quiet afternoon. The bird feeder activity was like grand central station...finches, sparrows and red breasted birds fluttered in and out, all vying for a perch to dine from.

Charlie came home from work and joined me at the table on our front porch and together we watched the birds.  Somehow, the conversation got around to dogs and Charlie mentioned he had visited the Humane Society website. He said there were a couple of yellow Labs there. We had casually discussed that maybe it was time to start thinking about looking for a dog. Pete has been gone six months and it has been way too quiet these last few months. I looked at Charlie and saw that I was going to have to (1) visit the website, too, and then (2) take a quick drive down to check them out.

Tuesday morning, I arrived at the Humane Society just after they opened. I had done my homework and written down the information about the two dogs and had completed the adoption application (just in case).  I reported to the reception desk and an adoption counselor was immediately assigned to interview me. After the brief interview, she gave me the numbers of the kennels the two dogs were in, and off I went. There were teeny, tiny dogs, mutts, lots of pit bulls, oodles of mixed varieties....all barking for attention. I found the two Labs and learned that one had a maxed-out interest list (which meant they were not taking any more names for that dog) and the other that was not available for visitor registration due to health issues. According to her kennel tag, she had been abandoned and turned in.

I continued to look around, and found a tiny 6 month old terrier that had spunk...and seemed quite interested in me. After a few minutes, I wrote down his info and asked to be put on the list for him. They gave me an appointment to 'meet' him for Wednesday at 9:30.

On the way home, I needed to stop and mail a package. As I was headed up to the post office, I drove by our former Vet and had a thought....maybe I could check with them and see if they ever get dogs that need a new home. So, on the way back, I stopped at the clinic.

"I think we are about ready for a dog and I'm wondering if you ever get dogs who need a new home?" The gal at the desk remembered me and smiled. "We get them all the time, " she said. There was a pause and then she said, "As a matter of fact, we have one right now that we really want to find a home for." Another pause....."She's a little older, but she is house trained and has a good disposition."

I looked at her and asked, "How old is she?" "She just turned 11. Would you like to see her?" What could I say? I was curious...and something told me that I was here for a reason. "Sure." So the gal went in the back and I soon heard the clickety-click of four paws dancing down the hallway. The door opened and the dog charged out dragging the gal behind her! "This is Roxie." Full of energy, she came right up to me like I was a long-lost friend. A Lab/Terrier mix, she is brown with a greying muzzle. The lack of exercise was only evident by the few extra pounds she had put on.

Then, the story came out...Roxie's owner was terminally ill. The last three weeks, Roxie had been home - alone - because the owner had been taken to the hospital. The neighbors had rallied to feed and care for Roxie, but there was no one home with her. The clinic had received a call from the ex-wife (who lives in northern California), explained the situation and asked if she could board Roxie for a week while she tried to figure out what to do with her. She couldn't take her, but she wanted Roxie to find a home.

I said that I wanted to bring my husband by to meet Roxie. I asked what time they opened and told her we would be by the next morning. As I got into my car, I stopped, pulled out my cell phone and reported on the morning activity. Without much hesitation, Charlie said he would take the day off so we could go back to see Roxie. ......the rest, as they say, is history!

 

Hmmmm...this looks like a pretty good neighborhood...

....don't you think?

Roxie can hear a treat a mile away....

and...obviously, has the couch caper down to a science....

Roxie has been with us for just a week and she has got the routine down.  She loves to go on walks and we try to get a couple in each day. She sails up onto our bed without effort and can give the squirrels a race for their peanuts as she chases them across the garden. Returning to work after spring break was hard, knowing we were going to be leaving her home alone.  Amazingly enough, Roxie handled the transition without a hiccup...and eagerly greeted us when we returned home. Roxie has found her new home. ♥

SPRING!

My friend, Susan Branch, just launched her latest Willard (Willard is the name of her newsletter for those who are not familiar with Susan) today and it is all about SPRING! Not the water trickling over the stones, nor the squeaky one in the bed....the real SPRING...the season that comes after Winter and before Summer. Lovely, sunny, to-die-for breezes in the air and wispy clouds sailing overhead. SPRING! A-hem? Uh, wait a moment....where did old man Winter go? We haven't had Winter yet!! How could SPRING here???

This is our rouge Hollyhock plant. Actually, there are at least 2 in there! Charlie seems to remember me flinging a handful of misc. seeds into the garden last spring, hoping for some surprises. I was surprised, alright. Several seeds made an appearance only to croak a few days later. After a bit of research, I have learned that it is best to sow the seeds for Hollyhocks at the end of summer/early fall if you want blooms on your stalks come SPRING!

And, it seems that the neighborhood birds are back from their winter break....the finch feeder in the back garden has been loaded with birds all week.

 

Maybe I'm ready for SPRING! I have been wanting to get out and clean up the gardens; move some roses...and I just read on the seed packets that most of the veggies I want to grow need to go in the ground in March! So, I guess I best get cracking!!!

the Black Phoebes

Early in June in 2003, while watering the roses in the front garden, I noticed some movement by the water faucet. I looked down and there was a baby bird hidden in the overgrown grass. Then, I caught more movement to my right, and sure enough, there was another baby bird! Worried about the many cats in the 'hood, I scooped up the one that was headed toward the driveway. In the Sycamore tree over head were two full-grown birds watching me and making enough noise to let me know that they were the parents. Charlie came home and he noticed the remains of a mud nest high in the eaves by Whitney's bedroom window. Obviously, this is where these little guys started! What a fall, I mused.

We put a small terra cotta pot on its side next to the faucet. I put some lint from the dryer inside to make it cozy and then we rounded up the baby birds for the night. We looked up the parents in our bird book and decided that they were Black Phoebes.

Over the next few days, the baby birds became quite brave. The morning after we had found them, they had moved to a spot under the garden bench. Periodically, we would go out on the porch to check on them. They were always somewhere else! The following morning, I went out to fill the little fountain and accidentally kicked on to the log shells and out popped the baby birds! "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" I said. They had stayed in the hollow overnight.

The next afternoon I peeked out and couldn't see the birds. I walked very carefully across the yard (there was a lot of tall grass) to see if I could find them. Sure enough! Under the old wagon sat the pair, watching me!

It was mid-afternoon the next day when I came out to see if I could find them again...and I was having no luck. I went to the driveway and turned back towards the house, and there, on the lip of the porch, sat one of the babies...just scouting out the situation.

The other one was nowhere to be found. I went back inside and returned later to discover the bird had left the porch and relocated to the arm of the garden bench.

Still no sibling was seen.  Throughout the afternoon, I would return to the porch with my camera to check on the status of the babies. Every time I returned, they were in a different location. They were so cute! I ventured out into the yard and finally located baby #2 sitting on the log shell by the fountain. Back up on the porch, I watched them sit (kind of like watching paint dry). And then, suddenly...without warning, the baby on the garden bench took off for a short, awkward flight and landed in the little tree about ten feet away. Whew! He made it! It was so fun watching them make their progress. But, it was kind of sad, too, because I knew it wouldn't be long before they would be ready to move on.

A little while later, I came out and again looked for our two feathered friends. One was sitting on the north wall...while the parent birds sat on the branches of the tree nearby. Charlie came home from work shortly after and I told him about all of the antics. We both went back out on the porch and there, sitting on the north wall, were both birds, shoulder to shoulder. I quietly (and, quickly) went down the driveway, up to the next house, across the lawn and sat down. I gently lifted my camera and took one more picture of the two of them. You could still see some of the downy feather fluff thad hadn't been shed. What a pair.

By the time I returned from work the next day, it was obvious the babies had mastered their flying skills. The parents were nowhere to be seen or heard; a sure confirmation that the babies had successfully taken off for a destiny unknown. But, according to all of the bird books and online web sites, Black Phoebes are know to return to their nesting place. We will just have to wait and see.......

...Postscript...

Since this story was written, we have had many Black Phoebes frequent our garden and the little fountain. We've had several nestings over the years and there are remnants of deserted mud nests high in the eaves above our kitchen. We look forward to their return each spring, announced by their distinct chirp.

the Help

When I picked up Kathryn Stockett's The Help last spring, I wasn't sure what to expect. A co-worker had sung it praises and the reviews had been intriguing. It wasn't until the movie was about to hit the theater, though, that I hustled to my nightstand, (which is, like most nightstands, loaded with books, waiting in a literary cue to be read) and pulled the book from the stack. "No charge for the dust," I thought to myself as I retreated downstairs.

I am one of those who really prefers to read the book before heading to the theater. I want my imagination to conjure up the locations, the characters, the fashions....everything. I was mid-book when the Help was released on the big screen. Charlie was rather eager to go see it, so I set aside my 'I want to finish the book first' mantra and off we went to the 9:20 a.m. Saturday matinee.

The movie is well done. I have to admit that I had somehow not given much thought to the historical timeline in which this movie took place. It was kind of unnerving at first. Having gone to an all white high school (that is, until a new student who happened to be black came to our town my junior year), I remember the television reports of the unrest in the south. And, I remember not comprehending what the 'problem' was.

We had help when we were small. I still remember my mother 'cleaning house' before the cleaning lady came. I was a pre-teen and I asked my mom why she did this. I know she gave me an answer...and, I'm sure it didn't make sense. I wish I could remember the cleaning lady's name. She was tall, and black...and I remember her being quick with her work.

When my youngest sister was born, we had another lady come to help with cooking, the cleaning and the general corralling of me and my siblings while mom was in the hospital and Dad went to work. Bughla (be-yoo-lah) was smaller framed and wore a scarf on her head and a colorful apron. She came early on the school days to help us get dressed, have breakfast and get out the door on time. She had a quiet smile and she seemed to enjoy the chaos we dished out. We were always respectful. I don't remember being conscious of the color difference. We knew there was a difference....but it wasn't something that we questioned or whispered about. It never occurred to us to be curious.

After the movie, Charlie and I shared stories of the help that our parents had. Jewel was the cleaning lady that came to his house. I told him about Bughla and the other lady who came to ours. I told him about my friend, Tisa's, help...her name was Mavis. Come to find out, all of our moms cleaned house before the cleaning lady came!

I finished the book shortly after the movie. The book offered more story than the movie (as most books often do). And, yes, somehow the characters I had imagined from the book changed a bit to look more like the ones in the movie. The movie was well-cast...though for a split second, I could have sworn that it was Lindsay Lohan playing Miss Skeeter (instead of Emma Stone)....and I wondered how in the world I had missed THAT detail! Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer, along with Emma were exceptional in their roles.

While only a 'story', the Help takes us back, uncomfortably, to a time where prejudice was the order of the day and people worked hard to keep things divided and segregated. I often times think back to when Tisa and I would take the bus 'up to Pasadena' for lunch. I was reminded which bus I could take and the one I shouldn't. Tisa, who attended St. Andrew's Catholic School, knew the Pasadena bus schedules by heart. Unbeknown to my mother, we took which ever bus showed up first! We were going to lunch, for heaven's sake. I just didn't understand the 'fear'. Now, being an adult, a parent and a seasoned traveler of life's journey, I get what mom was doing.

If you have not read the Help or seen the movie, I hope you will take the time to. It is a story you won't soon forget.

(...and, now you know why I refer myself to as the Scattered Journalist! After re-reading this a dozen + times, it does seem to be a bit scattered. Let me know what you think....)

Are you ready?

It seems that is the question of the day these last couple of weeks. Ready? Well, let's see...

Here is our dining room table....Christmas in progress...still writing cards, making gift tags and wrapping surprises. The good news is that the out of town packages have been shipped!

We went to Nancy's Christmas Tree farm on Sunday and found this little cutie. The lights are on...but, that's as far as we have gotten...we need to pull the boxes of Christmas treasures from the garage and get this decked out!

There's still a lot of baking and candy making to be done. And, we have to keep moving...if we stand in one place too long, we stick to the floor! The sugars, like pixie dust, have gone everywhere! Peanut brittle, chocolate espresso bark, pumpkin bread and the ever popular shortbread...all in demand (and expected!) at this time of year!

Here are a few of our Christmas books. The Tall Book of Christmas is one of my favorites.

Still need to hang the stockings...as soon as I find them! The Christmas DVDs are on rerun rotation...can't get enough! Oh, and the music, too. Thank God for the iPod....it's all there at my finger tips!

Our Nativity is on the buffet, complete with tiny star glitter.

So, am I ready? Not yet. I am so enjoying the process, though! Things might look a bit naked and the dining room table is organized chaos. It won't be long before all will be finished and everything will be magical!

'Tis the Season!

I hope you haven't given up on me and my blog, dear friends! Many of you are probably in the same boat (and it's a miracle we are all still a float!). Those daily details of life have sidetracked me...but not for much longer!

I am working on a new blog post (actually, two)...so bear with me as I redirect the creative juices. And, thanks for hanging in there!

♥

Made in America...some thoughts...

Lately, the news media and the Internet have been peppered with stories about not buying things that are made outside of the USA. It's great in concept...but, honestly, how DO we DO that?

I noticed on an item of clothing in Target the other day...the label was like a mini-novelette: fabric made in the USA and assembled in Bangladesh...or, was it Taiwan? US companies are making the raw materials and sending them overseas to assemble?

And, hey, does 'made in the USA' pertain to produce? Beverages? Meat? How does that work?

China has been the main target for a couple of years now. And, I have to admit, China does seem to be the one country that is pumping out merchandise and shipping it state wide faster than any other country. The majority of the toys are manufactured there...and a lot of that stuff that Santa brings this year won't make it to New Year's...why? Because they are not made to last. Toys need to be able to "take a licking and keep on ticking" ~ after all, kids play hard!

Then, there's the holiday wrap and ribbons, ornaments and trendy holiday home decorations...most come from overseas somewhere. And, I'm the first one to admit, I've got some...made in Germany, made in Japan, made in Taiwan, made in Poland...and, yes, made in China. Some of our Christmas treasures are over 50 years old.

I got to wondering just how long would it take a US company to bring their manufacturing back to the states? And, if they did, how much more would the products cost? Certainly this would create more jobs. But, does anyone know how much more we will need to spend to have that label say "Made in the USA"?

I have no problem, not one, with making every effort in buying things only made in the USA. I think the tides are beginning to turn. But, it's going to take time. So...I will continue to look at the labels, check the marking on the packaging.....and hopefully, I will find more choices that are made right here in the USA!

November is here...

I went out to the mailbox yesterday afternoon (October 31) and this was what I found...no letters, no bills...just a plethora of catalogs!

My feelings were a bit mixed at this discovery. I love looking through catalogs...not so much for the shopping aspect but rather more for inspiration. The photography, the color schemes, the overall presentation of the merchandise is eye candy and food for thought. A challenge, if you will. How can I replicate that cozy feeling with what I have in my butler's pantry, linen closet and boxes of seasonal treasures?

I'm embarrassed on two fronts ~ one, my mail carrier had to schlep all of these in one delivery and two, I thought I had 'gone green' and opted out for the hard copy of most of these catalogs! I perused through the pages of each one and kept.....two. Williams-Sonoma and Pendleton.

Williams-Sonoma has a great catalog and they are savvy at luring you in! The recipes, alone, cause me to grab my sharpie and write 'save!' on the cover....sometimes with the page numbers listed. There is a warm, enticing feeling you get when you look at the well-set tables . The linens, the dishes ~ the photos are orchestrated right down to the last detail, capturing the overall ambiance that everyone appreciates, dreams about and yet, rarely attempts to create a similar look in their own home.

Pendleton....need I say more? Colorful, warm, beautiful blankets made in the USA. Their blankets are wool and basically an investment. One for each bed and you are good to go for many years of cozy sleeping!

The truth about the catalog thing is that we have become somewhat of a materialistic society. I say 'somewhat' because we do need to shop for basic things...things like clothing that is worn out or outgrown, towels and bed linens that are used daily and have seen better days and replacements for broken dishes and glassware. But, how much 'stuff' do we need?

I am guilty of the dishes-thing. I love to set a nice table. And, it is fun to have a choice of patterns and color schemes. Linens, too. So fun to be able to set just the right mood with a special tablecloth. Instead of using the items we have stashed in our cupboards and linen closets, we tend to get caught up in the latest trends ~ colors, styles, textures that are determined to be 'in' by designers around the world.

Strategically creative and meticulous marketing techniques have been honed to a fine science. Once we open that catalog, peruse that Target ad or walk into that specialty store, we are at the mercy of the retail industry!

This year, I have made a promise to myself...to use what we have. To set an inviting table, to decorate with imagination and create a welcoming ambiance for all who come to our home. I can't wait!

An Ode to Pete

It's the end of October now...we've had our vacation...and in the midst of the re-entry to work and the daily details of life, we had to let our darling Pete go.

He came home from 'camp' on Sunday...messy and tired ~ the normal m.o. after spending a week with Tom in Lancaster. He hung out with Pumpkin, the miniature pony, and the rest of the menagerie. He was glad to be home with us. That was the last day we heard him bark.

Monday, Pete slept most of the day on his large pillow bed in the living room. Tired but still quite focused on the kibble dish! Tuesday morning came and things went quickly down hill.

Pete joined us 12+ years ago after an abusive first year. We had adopted his sister, Annie, in 1998. Just a year later, we received a call saying that there was another dog looking for a home...did we want another dog?

Pete and Annie, reunited, became the dynamic duo. Quick to play and always looking for that opportunity of divert and conquer. We lost Annie in 2007. Pete rose to the occasion and was appropriately deemed our court Jester! Just a few french fries short of a Happy Meal, he made us laugh, he tugged at our heartstrings and loved us unconditionally.

We had no idea when we returned from vacation that our home was headed for the empty-nest classification.

Last Wednesday, after a long Tuesday that included no appetite (including kibble, treats, cooked chicken and frozen broccoli straight from the freezer) and continued vomiting, it was evident that we needed to let our Pete go. His spirit was oh, so strong. But, his body was finally giving into the 13 1/2 years of life.

It's been just a week ... and the void is beyond description. We miss him so much...our hearts hurt beyond belief.

But. We are so lucky that he was part of our family. Both he and Annie filled our lives with laughter and stories we will remember and share for years to come. 

So, to you, Pete...thank you for being all that you were to our family. We miss you desperately and yet, we know you are at peace...and probably running a-muck with Annie. We love you, Pete. You, too, Annie. Rest in Peace...dear pups. xoxo

Hello, Autumn!

With the arrival of Autumn came the new blush of roses...absolutely beautiful! I find it amazing that all it takes is a little water, some rose food and periodic deadheading to score such incredible blooms!  They looked great in the garden...and I just had to bring some inside to look at while I do the dishes and bake my cookies!

Once Autumn has arrived, the baking commences! And the minute I decide to bake, Indian Summer brings the triple-digit temperatures right back! Even in the heat, I turn on that oven! I love making Ginger Crisps! The recipe makes a boat-load of cookies (depending, of course, on the size of your cookie cutters) and can be frozen. This recipe is from my friend, Susan Branch. She has a website: http://www.susanbranch.com/ and a blog! Do stop in for some wonderful inspiration and lots of recipes.  Here we are at her shop in Arroyo Grande...

The Autumn skies are spectacular! Deep blue with white, puffy clouds...the puffiest of all seasons!

O0o0ooOooo! I simply l♥ve Autumn!

When the leaves are turning crimson, deep orange and rusty green...this can only mean one thing....it's almost time for Halloween!

Several Halloweens ago, Martha Stewart offered a pattern for a life-size witch on her website. A free, 24 page pattern! So, I printed out the pattern and pieced the whole thing together with yards of Scotch tape. Charlie, the master craftsman here at the Outpost, traced and cut her out...and gave her a coat of paint. I put together the jar lantern and dug out an old broom from the garage. Our son, not to be outdone, stopped by on the way home from work and gave the witch his apron (thank you, Starbucks)!

This is my salute to my buddy-in-crime...my best friend and soul mate, Charlie.

...there's more to come...so stay tuned!

From my journal of 9/11/2001

September 14, 2001

I lay in the early morning darkness ~ listening to the morning routine ~ Charlie and the pups have gone downstairs. The shower is turned on. Then off. The clickity-click of eight small but mighty paws dancing on the kitchen floor ~ then the kibble hitting the metal dog dishes…I am comforted by the sounds of the routine.

My thoughts go back to Tuesday morning, September 11…

The day began with the regular routine…I dropped Whit off at the bus stop at 6:25 a.m.  I return home and hear the phone ringing as I am unlocking the front door.  I pick up and Charlie is on the other end ~ “Are you watching the news??!!!”  He sounds anxious.  “No,”  I say. “ I don’t watch TV in the morning anymore.” He exclaims, “Two planes have just crashed into the World Trade Center!” I momentarily stop breathing. My thoughts begin to scramble. “What?!!!” I hear myself asking.

So begins the infamous day of terror ~ September 11, 2001.

I tune in the news station on the radio as I drive to work.  I am still grasping for coherent thoughts. Disbelief ~ stomach churning, heart wrenching disbelief.  What is going on?

As I arrive at the school, I am mentally sorting my list of details on my to-do list. I go upstairs and unplug the black and white TV from the staff lounge and bring it to my office.  Not just for me but for all of our staff. This will begin a three-day monitoring of updates and news briefs.  I am numb.

The images focus on the screen…now there have been three planes that have crashed: two into the World Trade Center and one into the Pentagon.  It is now apparent, the newscaster says, that these were orchestrated terrorist attacks!

I check e-mail. Now we learn a total of four planes have crashed, the last in a field near Pittsburgh. President Bush, who was in Florida, is immediately evacuated to Air Force One. After one brief refueling and a short statement indicating that he is on it, he again returns to the air for a destination unknown.  We later learn he was in a bunker in Nebraska.

Airports are closed.  All airplanes are ordered to land at the nearest airport.  More pictures appear on the TV ~ many replays ~ lots are new.

Julie has just come to me and says her daughter has been released from school ~ the same school Whitney attends. I try to get hold of the office to give my permission. The secretary attempts to transfer me and I am cut off. I call back, connecting to the operator who patches me through the Attendance Office.  Mr. Sorenson answers and I ask if he has seen whit. No, he tells me, but they are releasing the kids with verbal parental consent.  He asks how I want to handle it.  I tell him to tell Whit I will meet him in lot H! I tell him I will be there in 15 minutes!

I arrive a t the school in 15 minutes (traffic was very light, thank God).  I pull around to lot H, park and wait.  Just two minutes later I see Whit headed for the bus stop. I hit the horn ~ he looks up and is surprised ~ and relieved. As he gets into the car he tells me that he had called his dad (it was 1:30 by the time he got to a phone) and Charlie had told him to take the bus.  He never got my message. I make a mental vow to work on the cell phone issue next week.

Tuesday P.M.

Darkness. Everyone is home safe, but extremely tired.  We are wired ~ we are anxious ~ we are glued to the TV. Peter Jennings is reporting details I can’t even comprehend. Four planes have crashed ~ three bound for Los Angeles; one for San Francisco. I think: this has to be a movie!

Replay after replay of explosions, destruction and people jumping from the World Trade Center. Rubble ~ people running for their lives.

Bedtime 9/11

We have gone to bed ~ worried, scared, almost too tired to sleep. But finally, sleep takes over.  In the wee hours of Wednesday, my breath catches. Aircraft is heard overhead ~ for a split second, I panic. All planes were to be grounded…Charlie stirs…I nudge him… “There’s a plane!” I whisper. He quietly reassures me ~ “It’s a military aircraft on patrol.” I exhale. “Oh.” We are both awake ~ listening ~ the silence is deafening. Not a car passes on the freeway a mile away. Not a chirp from a bird or a snap from a cricket. Nothing is moving.

We fall into exhausted sleep.

Wednesday morning arrives so quickly. We are beyond tired ~ Charlie snaps on the radio…I follow soon after, turning on the TV, hungry for updates. I vow to curtail my attention to the TV, but catch myself watching, waiting…

The morning routine continues ~ Charlie leaves, Whit shuffles to the shower ~ I continue to stare at “the box”.  Reassurances are made regarding the flight activity overnight. Yes, there were planes ~ mostly military ~ but all with FAA clearance.

I drop Whit off at the bus stop and return home. I do a load of laundry. The washer is leaking so badly now that the cookie tray underneath catching the water has to be emptied after each load. What a hassle. As quickly as I think that, I chastise myself ~ big deal! The washer leaks. New York is under tons of rubble. Ok ~ I regroup. I leave for work.

I am feeling quite helpless~ all those people still trapped ~ and their families and friends who are waiting to hear. What can I do? The plea for blood donors continues ~ I try to call for an appointment ~ but all I get is a busy signal. This is a good sign, but still frustrating.

The TV drones in the background as I check e-mail. Letters and essays are forwarded ~ one witness writes from his home in Brooklyn after leaving Manhattan. A reprint of an editorial from a Canadian newspaper urging America to “stand proud” crosses my e-mail several times.

Teachers and staff are trickling in, their voices low, their faces tired ~ everyone compares notes so no one misses a detail.  Jane’s official letter goes out to the programs for distribution.

Somehow, the day goes on. I find it difficult to focus on much of anything. Finally, 1:30 comes and I am out of there. I go home ~ I am restless. I turn on the TV for distraction and find myself watching.

I should do laundry, dishes and a multitude of other chores. I don’t want to do anything. I am glued to the TV.

The routine continues the best it can. I go to pick up Whitney at the bus stop. He is on time. We return, he goes to the computer and checks his e-mail. I decide we will have roast chicken and rice for dinner tonight. I run to Von’s for a cooked bird. I come home and put on the rice.

Charlie walks in shortly after ~ exhaustion written all over his face. He turns on KZLA on the radio and goes upstairs to change. The DJ reads an inspiring statement and the plays “God Bless the USA”. I am crying.

By the time evening is here we are all ready to crawl into bed.

9/13

I arrive at work and turn on the TV. Peter Jennings is still there ~ does this man not sleep?

Jackie, one of our teachers, comes into my office and let’s me know she has been put “on alert” ~ as an Army Reserve.  Ed is not coming in ~ he has “things to do”. I check my e-mail ~ candlelight vigils are announced ~ one nationwide tomorrow at 7 PM. “Fly Your Flag Day” tomorrow ~ for everyone. Everyone is urged to wear red, white and blue tomorrow.

More essays ~ one from the Seattle Times: “You don’t know what you just started, but you’re about to learn…”

I learn from Jose, our maintenance man, his nephew is missing.  He was a waiter at the World Trade Center. Jose’s brother lives in El Salvador and has no way to get back to New York.  It has come home to us all. I send an e-mail to the P.O. community, encouraging everyone to keep staff and their families in their prayers.

I am tired of the TV ~ but no break is in sight.  Mary sends me a  “Nostradamus” prediction…not quite accurate (it was really predicting an event in 1999) but still causes me to stop and think.

I try to find the lyrics to “God Bless the USA” by Lee Greenwood on the net. Several sites recognize the song and the artist ~ but I can’t find the lyrics.

The workday ends and I go to Horty Van to see if I can get a flag for my car window. They are out of American flags ~ have been since Wednesday. No biggy. I will pull one from the July 4^th box.

The 4^th of July stuff is right there in the media room. I select a flag ~ take it off the little stick and tape it inside of the back window of the van. Then I make a small sing that says “God Bless the USA” and place it under my flag. I am ready.

I go to Target for a candle ~ I find three ~ a red one, white one and a blue one ~ for 99 cents each.

I then go over to Vroman’s to see if Newsweek and Time Magazines (special editions) are available. I am told “tomorrow”. I then look for the New York Times. They are out of these, too. As I walk towards my car, a lady comes up from behind me and tells me that they have the N.Y. Times across the street, indicating Bungalow News. I had forgotten all about that place. So, I go over to Bungalow News and, sure enough, they have the Times.   And, they have the new People Special Edition on the recent terrorist attacks.  I pick up both. I ask about the Newsweek and Time. They tell me “tomorrow”. They open at 7 AM.

I think to myself ~ I haven’t done this (collected newspapers and magazines of a major event) since Princess Diana was killed. I am formulating a journal/scrapbook on all this ~ I’m not sure how it will lay out ~ but I am thinking about it.  I stop at Michael’s to look at scrapbook paper. Not much to select from with a patriotic theme. No stickers, either. That’s ok. And I go home.

After everyone gets home ~ we continue on with our routine. Charlie works on two American flags he wants to fly from his truck. I give him a copy of my sign for the truck window.

I go upstairs and crawl into bed. I drop off into a deep sleep. I don’t remember the dogs or Charlie coming upstairs.

9/14

Charlie needed to be at work early, and is gone by 5. I shower. Whit showers. Whit has his new dance bag and is ready early. I drop him at the bus and head over to Bungalow News. As I head south on Lake, I see a huge American flag hanging on the MIndyMac Bank building. Chills run down my back.

I am early, of course, and the newsstand is not open yet. At the moment, I don’t have anywhere to be just now. I watch the sun peek above the buildings on

Colorado Blvd.

A flock of birds are flying in formation over the buildings ~ so synchronized you could swear it had been rehearsed. Life is continuing.

Soon, others begin to gather in front of the newsstand. Businessmen, a landscaper ~ we all wait quietly. 7 AM.  The door is unlocked and we are invited in. Many of the others pick up a copy of each newspaper available. There must be a dozen or more, I estimate. Then, the magazines. Time. Newsweek. ~ there is a Business week and some other publications for the financial wizards. I just want the NY Times, Time and Newsweek. I pay and leave.

I see Gloria as I head down California. I pick her up and we chat. We walk together into the school ~ I get to my office. It is so quiet. I open my inner door and notice many large boxes. My day begins ~ I check e-mail ~ an essay by an 18 year old is forwarded to me ~ “You hit the buildings, but missed America”. Very poignant. And, an email from my son which is an article written by a friend and ~ hooray! ~ the words to Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the USA”.

Awhile later, Jane comes in and tells me she will begin looking for a replacement for Jackie. She knows it’s just a matter of time before Jackie will need to leave for reserve duty.

This has been a long week ~ an incredible week. I just want quiet. I tell Julie I am leaving early ~ 12:30 (big deal) (an hour early) ~ I am exhausted ~ I want to be somewhere else ~ no TVs, no radios, no newspapers. I need to escape. My brain is on overload ~ probably no more than anyone else’s ~ but this week has been intense ~ I need a commercial break!

9/15/01

On TV we see Peter Jennings interviewing/chatting with a group of kids. He looks rested but tired.

More news: President Bush and the Security Council are bunkered at Camp David. Bush vows we will win. As does every citizen interviewed on the street. I am reminded of the scene at Twelve Oaks in Gone with the Wind ~ they, too, were going to win! The charge came ~ and the loss unbelievable. I fear we face the same now. No matter how careful we will be, the losses will cost us dearly ~ for if only one life is lost in battle, the cost will have been too much.

But our country is united right now ~ and I think, while they want to avoid a “knee jerk” response, there will be a response very soon. The success of this mission will depend, in part, on the unity of the country. Our spirit is strong. ~

Whit has gone to volunteer at the Pasadena Playhouse. The distraction will be good for him ~ I’m not quite sure how he is taking this all in ~ he seems so disinterested. But, I remind myself, he’s 15 ~ he is interested in his own way. He just doesn’t want to talk about it. Yet.

Charlie and I watch a special Oprah and then the two-hour special America’s Most Wanted with John Walsh. He’s there with camera crew at ground zero ~ in the debris field. He urges anyone with info on the terrorists to call 1-800-crime-tv. I am exhausted. I go upstairs to watch the end of the show and fall asleep.  Whit comes home and says goodnight.

9/16/01

6 AM ~ the dogs are up. They are the routine this Sunday morning. Charlie has struggled with an allergy attack all night ~ he sounds like a chain saw and a percolator! In the quiet it is quite loud!

The pups and I are up and head for the stairs. Annie pauses to do her cat stretch at the top of the stairs, which nearly causes me to trip. The dogs and I make it downstairs like the herd of elephants we’ve become. I dish up the kibble and Pete eats immediately.  Annie only wants attention.

I make a cup of tea and re-read my previous notes. Yes. We are at war. President Bush has said as much. He guarantees we will “smoke them out” ~ but it will be a careful and methodic procedure. A long haul. Are we, as a country, ready to commit to this? At the moment, we are. The blood banks are overwhelmed with the response to the call. But the response will need to continue. The shelf life of blood is not too long, and more will be needed. People are donating money, pledging support ~ they will need to continue, for this battle will be costly. There is no easy, overnight ‘fix’ for terrorism. Eventually, the fight will get old ~ but I pray that we will remain united. All of the “arm chair generals”, the weekend strategists, need to remain supportive and united. Those American flags must remain flying now and forever. We must never let our guard down.

10/14/01

It’s been over a month since this crisis began. We began bombing Afghanistan last weekend. We are pinpointing terrorist training camps, ammo bunkers ~ anything that might house or hide terrorists.

Last night, we heard on the news that all of the food that we had been dropping to the civilians in Afghanistan has been fed to their animals. They don’t know what to do with peanut butter. All they want is rice and beans. I picture in my mind a camel with peanut butter stuck to the roof of its mouth.  Hmmm.  Did we not include instructions?

Whit’s comment was “screw them”. Charlie explains why we are dropping food to them It’s the humane thing to do. Whit responded, “Humane?! Blasting into two buildings full of people was humane? They don’t have a clue what humane is. Screw them.”

Finally, we hear from our son.

That was the only news we listened to last night. A five-minute blip. It feels good not to be glued to the tube. I ask myself if this is not a denial tactic ~ not tuning in. No, it’s survival. We can only handle so much and then we must move on to daily tasks. To watch 24/7 will only cause more stress and tension, of which we have too much already.

May we never forget.