Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Today is the Day

Today is the big day. At 11:oo AM, EST we will officially become Snow Birds. The little red cottage on the lake will be ours and I have less than 24 hours to move in and prepare for company. Yikes! Who's idea was this anyway?

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I pushed for a pre-Labor Day closing and now we are going to find out just how resilient our little house is. With one small bedroom we're planning on housing all 8 of us this weekend...5 noisy adults, 2 active children and 1 very confused dog. We are launching our new life as lake dwellers in grand fashion. Miss A and the G-man arrive on Wednesday, Chris on Thursday and various other family members will be passing through over the weekend. On Tuesday I will collapse, The Kid will dig the For Sale sign out of the garage and we will head back to sunny Florida. Just kidding.

We are scheduled to have internet installed this afternoon. If there is silence here it is safe to assume that the cable company was a no show or the current owners had a last minute change of heart. If the later is the case I intend to punish them by moving all of us into their home while I deal with my grief.

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Otherwise you can assume that tomorrow morning I will be sitting here watching the sun rise enjoying my first cup of Joe while waiting for the panic to set in.



Monday, August 30, 2010

Daucus Carota

Daucus carota, commonly known as wild carrot or Queen Anne's Lace is not native to the U.S. It was introduced and naturalised in North America...a long time ago. Most people consider it a weed, but I think it is beautiful. It got its name because the flower resembles lace (perfectly logical but not very original). The small red flower in the center represents a blood droplet where Queen Anne pricked herself with a needle while making the lace. Why it was attributed to Queen Anne and not Queen Mary or Queen Elizabeth no one seems to know. Maybe Mary and Elizabeth weren't in to lace making. Maybe they spent too much time at the palace pub and couldn't get their needles needling. For whatever reason Anne got the credit and the bloody finger.

This little tidbit, however, is much more interesting and I'll wager my next paycheck that it will be a news flash for you. Women have used the seeds from Daucus caorta for centuries as a contraceptive. It's true, look it up if you don't believe me. I read that the earliest written reference dates back to the late 5th or 4th century B.C. It even appeared in a work written by Hippocrates. Studies have been done recently (this century) to test the theory. I for one am not volunteering for that little science experiment, but I'll be happy to sign you up if you are interested.

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Queen Anne's Lace, the versatile and beautiful weed.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

A Fresh Perspective

For some strange reason there are images that gain appeal after they sit on the shelf for awhile (or on the hard drive as the case may be). I am certain the quality of the image doesn't improve over time but rather my perspective. I took the photos below and the one from yesterday a year ago when we visited Pennsylvania on our way to Maine. At that time I found them lacking. Perhaps I was too pre-occupied with the north woods, moose and capturing that illusive perfect image to give these more than a passing glance.

But the past couple of days when I needed a break from post-processing people, I stumbled upon these images from last summer, tucked safely away on a hard drive, filed under travel, PA., right next to Maine. I remember the day. It was late afternoon, hot and humid and I went for a drive. Not too far from my Mother's apartment I discovered a small subdivision in the early stages of development. The empty lots were delightfully filled with wild flowers, Queen Anne's Lace, Rag Weed, Teasel. Soon the car was stopped, the tripod set up, the camera mounted with my Nikkor 100mm macro lens. The heat and humidity had suddenly vanished and I was happy as a clam.

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Bee-utiful

I was also happy as a clam when I rediscovered this folder of images. They were just begging for some Florabella texture and some Nik filter applications. The possibilities were endless.

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Teasel Town

As are the hours I spend either behind the camera or logged on to the computer content and forever grateful that I have found my passion.

Saturday, August 28, 2010

It's Coming

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It's coming. I can feel it. Fall is on its way. The oppressive heat of summer has disappeared, vanished on a wayward wisp of wind that dropped in from Canada. The air is crisp and clean. The temperature has dipped from tolerable to pleasant and a few stray leaves have drifted slowly to the ground. Yes it is coming. Fall is on its way and I am delighted.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Fantasy Land

I don't get it. OK, so maybe on some level I do get it. I wrote about it once before, way back in August of 2008. (You can refresh your memory here if you so desire.) It is also the reason Henna & I got the heck out of Dodge (Nashville) and left The Kid behind. There was absolutely no way I was staying. Not even for the tease of seeing my grandchildren for a few minutes. What is it you ask? What is it that could possibly drive me out of town when my babies are on the way? It is Fantasy Football and the annual KFL draft party.

It started almost ten years ago. The brain child of my elder child. A fantasy football league that would blend the college friends of both of my boys, a Yankee cousin and one old man. What began as a 2-hour computer generated draft has evolved into a weekend event. One that is not to be missed. For any reason. Ever. (Unless your wife forces you to spend a month in Maine. Then it is acceptable as long as there is a house of refreshment close by that has internet and will allow you to sit for hours and draft your team.) There is no birthday important enough, no anniversary special enough to keep the men folk at home. The sanctity of this weekend is rivaled only by Super Bowl Sunday. It is that important.

And just like the Super Bowl a little two hour sport has become an "event." There is now the pre-draft party golf outing which takes place on Friday afternoon. Participants start rolling into town on Thursday. This year one man actually dedicated an entire week's vacation to the event. I certainly hope there was major suck-up involved prior to leaving his wife and child for the week. That should be worth at least a trip to a jewelry store, or in my case a very large order from B&H Photo.

But things have changed over the years. They don't like to admit it but they are growing old(er). There are still hot dogs and plenty of beer to go around. But now the guys are encouraged to bring "a dish" to share. Kind of like a church supper, recipes are compared and shared. And the morning after sleeping til noon of their youth...gone. Vanished. Replaced by jarring alarm clocks and crying babies, sounds of adulthood not easily banished in one long weekend with the guys.

Yes indeed, the KFL draft is an event. Much like the migratory call of geese to head south for the winter, the "boys" follow some unknown male homing instinct that leads them to Nashville the third weekend in August....each and every year. They relive their carefree college days. Play a little golf. Eat a little food. Drink a little brew. Make believe they are big time NFL team owners selecting the best of the best to lead their team on to the Super Bowl.

I'd say Disney has no corner on Fantasy Land. What say you?

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Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Travel Day

Yesterday was a travel day for me. Henna and I have moved on to Pennsylvania. We have a busy week ahead of us. There are several loose ends to attend to before The Kid arrives on Sunday. We are scheduled to close on the cottage early next week.

In the meantime here is a not so perfect shot from yesterday. It reminds me that once we get this little acquisition behind us I need to spend more time with my camera and less time looking at paint chips.

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Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Destructo Mom

It all started innocently enough. In a burst of maternal servitude I found myself cleaning my son's home this past week. Not the superficial push the vacuum around the furniture and run a sponge around the sink kind of cleaning, but the hard core hands and knees kind. The kind that shrivels your fingers and causes your skin to peel following 4 days in hot water and Spic & Span. (I'm really not such a good mother, just trying to make amends for the whole birthday debacle of two years past.)

I moved through the house with confidence. After all if one gets to be my age, raised two children and a husband and hasn't become an expert cleaner there is no hope. When I reached the basement steps I knew there would be challenges. The carpet leading to the "Man Room" down below had obviously been neglected for quite some time.

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The old Hoover was awkward and hard to handle. It's prime had long since past and it was held together with a bungee chord. The stairway was indeed a challenge. It was a balancing act fit for a circus. One hand busily operating the hose, the other managing somehow to keep the old girl upright. Then something went terribly wrong. A loud bang which awakened the neighbors three blocks away was followed quickly by a cloud of dust and debris that encircled me much like the eruption of Mt. St. Helens. I had done the old girl in.

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No worries. Home Depot was just around the corner. Before you can say destructo mom I was back with a shiny new Hoover. Fresh out of the box it held the promise of a clean house. Soon I was back to work, the shiny new Hoover humming away by my side. I tried out the attachments zipping along the baseboards with a song in my heart. And then the improbable happened, another loud bang. This time accompanied by sparks and smoke. My very own pyro-techno show followed by the pungent odor of burning rubber. I had killed it. The brand new, shiny blue Hoover less than 1 hour old was dead.

I won't repeat the very ugly and unkind words that spewed forth from my lips. I demanded that it rise up and clean. But the severed chord with the frayed and burnt edges wasn't budging. I railed about poor design and substandard construction. The Hoover remained silent.

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About this time the men in my life began to assemble. There was laughter. I shed tears. There was more laughter. Two vacuum cleaners destroyed in the space of one single hour on a Sunday morning. It must be a record.

My suggestion to you if you need some domestic assistance...call Merry Maids. You can't afford me.


Monday, August 23, 2010

Love is in the Air

When we were in PA last month I got together with our nephew Eric and his lovely bride-to-be Ashtin for a little pre-wedding photo shoot. We were all a little nervous when the session began but as time went on both the photographer and the photgraphees relaxed and I think we got a few good ones, even some great ones.

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EA_Hands

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Sunday, August 22, 2010

Do You Remember

Do you? Do you remember when it looked like this?

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The Micky D's of my youth, the only game in town. There was no $1 menu. There was no need for one, most items were priced well under $1. There were no fru fru coffee beverages, no super sized this or thats, no value meals.

At my house dinner at McDonalds was a treat, a special occasion. It happened maybe two or three times/year. I loved the salty fries and the cheese oozing between the two halves of the bun. I even liked the pickle.

As a teen it was the local hang-out. Friday and Saturday nights everyone who was anyone in teendom could be found in the parking lot of McDonald's. It was also groovy to cruise the lot just to see and be seen before moving on.

And then along came the Burger King who invited us all to "have it your way" and everything changed. Burger joints of all shapes and sizes sprang up on every street corner in town. Ronald McDonald was born and the focus was on bigger and better and beating the competition. The golden arches were updated, reduced to yellow eyebrows in new and improved building designs. The menu expanded and Happy Meals and playgrounds began to entice families with young children instead of teens in hot rods.

Dinner at McDonald's is no longer special. It is no longer a treat on a cold winter evening. It has become a quick stop for an unhealthy meal eaten in haste on the way to somewhere. But every once in awhile when I see one these.

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I remember the way it was.

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Driving Along in My Automobile

Driving along in my automobile with no particular place to go. (Just try and get that little ditty out of your head today.)

Oh right, I do have a place to go. I don't know when I'll get there. I don't even know which route will get me there. (Retirement people.) I do know that since The Kid wants all of that spacious comfort on the driver's seat to himself I need something to do. Thus I bring you Drive By Shootings, Vol. II.

Taken somewhere in Georgia.....

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Rural Roaming

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No Brown Here

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It's a Hot One

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Old Glory

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Isn't that just the cutest little nose you have ever seen? You don't have to answer that. I know it is.

Sayonara

Friday, August 20, 2010

The Pilgrimage, Take I

The storm shutters are hung, the water turned off, the tv is unplugged and all of the doors and windows are locked down tight. The beast is also packed - tight as a tick. I don't think we could possibly fit one more thing in the trunk,

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the back seat, or for that matter the front seat either. Poor little Henna was squeezed in between the sleeping bags, a suitcase and the toolbox. There was enough room for her to stand up, turn around and lay back down again. It was adequate but not the spacious accomdations to which she has grown accustomed. The only one who wasn't cramped was the driver. Of course the good news is I knew I would not be required to get behind the wheel on this trip. Not after I saw The Kid stifle a yawn and glance my direction. His expression said it all. I knew he would rather drive for 10 hours than attempt to find a place for his long legs among the camera bag, the laptop, the purse and the magazines. He opted instead for a little caffeine.

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Early (well almost) yesterday morning we began what hopefully will become the annual pilgrimage to Pymatuning Lake. We have a couple of i's left to dot but I think the t's are all crossed. We should become the official residents of the "little red cottage" in two weeks.

Of course we all know it ain't over til it's over and all that jazz. But I think I hear the fat lady tuning up her vocal chords.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

The Rest of the Story

Ever since the "On the Cheap" post appeared, The Kid has been encouraging me to come clean. Confess my sins. Admit the error of my ways. And so I shall.

After our very budget conscious dinner, The Kid was here.

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Kicked back with a $1 after dinner beverage.

And I was here.

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What can I say, it was their summer sale. I hang my head in shame. I am a budget buster. A senseless sinner. I am without will power. Unable to resist the lure of retail. Defenseless in the face of a good sale. I am broken and humiliated.

But dang my new pants are sweet.


And now you know...(typed in my best Paul Harvey voice), the rest of the story.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Bits & Pieces and Frowny Faces

Our girl is still not quite up to snuff since her traumatic experience at summer camp. I think it's time to visit the vet....just to be sure there are no lingering health concerns as a result of her stressful incarceration.

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There are also some notable changes in her behavior. She has always been on the independant side but now she keeps her nose close to me.

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If I'm working on photos, she's under the desk. If I'm in the bathroom, she's in the bathroom. If I'm in the kitchen, she's lurking just around the corner where she can keep her eye on me. (She's not a fan of the kitchen for some strange reason.) She has become a velcro dog. The kind that sticks like glue.

She has also developed the cat-like habit of cleaning her paws.

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Constantly. Perhaps she's trying to remove the remnants of doggy camp. I'm not certain. I do know it is annoying. I keep telling her that it is very undog like behavior. She pays me no mind, goes right on with her housekeeping.

Miss Henna also has quite a collection of charms.

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Instead of a charm bracelet, she has a charm collar. There's a charm from GRIN (Goldon Retriever Rescue Naples) of which she is a card carrying lifetime member. First and foremost she is a GRIN dog. If we give her up; we have to give her back. Who are they kidding, give up our girl? Never.

There's a charm that indicates she is micro-chipped. One of those little chips was placed somewhere in her back which would allow her to be traced to GRIN should she get lost. And then we would probably be in BIG trouble.

Of course she has her Rabies tag, standard dog wear and finally her name charm. This is the most important one because this one has my phone number on it. Just in case she bolts and forgets where she lives or is visiting, Mama is only a phone call away. I am comforted by that thought.

But this sad face needs to go.

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Actually she looks like this most of the time when she isn't excited about going for a walk or getting a cookie. It is in the gene pool she inherited from the Duck Tolling Retriever side of her heritage. I was relieved to know that little tidbit because for an entire year I thought she was an unhappy little girl longing for her foster mother. Turns out her mouth just naturally turns down.

I'm sure you too will sleep better tonight just knowing that fact.


Sunday, August 15, 2010

On the Cheap

What do you do when you live in paradise, have a desire to get out of the house for dinner and only have $10 remaining in the food envelope? Trust me, I double checked, there was only $10 left.

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That's exactly the position The Kid and I found ourselves in last night. After desperately searching through old purses and pants pockets for more cash and coming up empty, we knew there was only one solution....Nacho Mama's. For a mere pittance you can eat like a king, as long as you are prepared to eat a little early in the evening, like 4:30 p.m. early.

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But who cares if we have to eat like old folks, we didn't have enough cash to eat like respectable working folks. Seriously, how can you beat $1.00 tacos, $0.50 hot wings and $1.00 drafts. And besides we're not respectable working folks, we're retarees on a budget. Ain't no shame in that.

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However I did get a little embarassed when The Kid asked if there was a senior discount.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

A Gnaty Tale

I have been dealing with the aftermath of the heavy rains we had earlier this week. GNATS. Millions and millions of gnats floating in my pool. Millions and millions of gnats swirling round and round because the skimmer isn't skimming...too much water. I believe the screen enclosure surrounding our pool is the Mecca for all of gnatdom. There must be some sort of edict that all gnats must assemble on our pool enclosure in order to gain entrance into gnat heaven.

When it rains, as it did earlier this week, those millions and millions of tiny critters slip through the screen and plunge to their deaths below. I wish they would remember that they have wings. I wish they would remember they have wings and use them. We could avoid a lot of heart ache if they would. But they don't. I guess it's part of gnat martyrdom or something.

Picture me, all set to cool off in the pool on a scorcher of an afternoon. I have assembled my raft, my cold beverage, my sunglasses and my magazine only to have the the respite interrupted by mass gnaticide.

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I am faced with two choices; go back inside into the cool comfort of air conditioning or spend my quiet afternoon scooping and straining those little buggers out of the pool. I went with option two. My pool boy was otherwise occupied.

And so I stood, for hours, scooping and skimming, scooping and skimming. I didn't have to move. The gnats kept coming, circulating around and around. And I believe reproducing in the process. Makes me dizzy thinking about it. I know I should have given them a proper burial, dug a hole, said a prayer. But it was getting dark and I needed to get inside, wouldn't want to run into any snakes.

It's a jungle out there.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Emily Elizabeth

I believe I mentioned that there was a mountain of photos for me to sort through as a result of our recent trip north. I had several photo shoots with family and friends and have finally had the chance to begin the post processing phase of photography. (Something I enjoy as much as taking pictures.)

Miss E was very excited about her date with the camera, that is until the appointed time arrived. By then she was over it, had other things on her mind and just wanted me to move along and leave her alone. Emily is about as independant a young lady as I have ever met and stubborn as 3 mules. She can also be sugar & spice and all things nice when she's in the mood. She wasn't in the mood.

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I mention all of that because the camera loves this little girl. Because in spite of her less than enthusiastic approach to our time together I was able to capture some pretty amazing shots of Miss E. (And I'm only half way through them.)

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Between the whining and complaining there were moments of sweetness, of giggles and smiles and little girl charm.

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Moments of deep thought,

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and moments when you wondered why she didn't enjoy it more. She's a natural. Just look at this expression.

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She's bright and witty and fun, imaginative, independant and sassy.

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She's our Emily. A little girl who is her own person full of hopes and dreams. A little girl who wishes on stars.

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And we love her just the way she is.


Well, maybe a little less stubborn would be nice.














Thursday, August 12, 2010

The Good, The Bad & Invest 94L

Thanks to Invest 94L, which seems to have stalled over the Gulf of Mexico for the past 3 days, we have had nothing but rain since our return to the island. It is one of the things that I don't like about living in south Florida. The earlier part of the summer is wonderful, warm Gulf water, no snow birds, no crowds, 2 for 1 dinner specials at our favorite restaurants, lazy afternoons floating in the pool. Then along comes August, the heat and humidity are over the top and the storm clouds gather. If tropical activity is out there we're going to be on the receiving end of it in some form or fashion. Like yesterday, when it rained all day long. No violent storms, just wave upon wave of heavy rain showers.

However, I have it on good authority that high pressure is building in and it is going to be a beautiful day today.

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If that good authority is actually accurate and we all know about those weathermen...they don't always get it right. Not even close. But if today is one of those days, and I'm choosing to go with the glass half full here, I'm heading to the beach. Or maybe, just maybe, I can talk The Kid into a little boat ride around the island this morning.

Yes, it's good to be back home, Invest 94L and all.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

1,000 Faces Update & Henna too

I should be getting better at this. I'm not. I am very uncomfortable asking people, even those I know, to allow me to photograph them for my little project. And what's worse is that I transfer that insecurity to others causing them to be uncomfortable with the process. I need to work on this.

I get the best results with my little 50mm lens. It is sharp and allows me to shoot in very low light. However, it means I have to get physically close to my subject which in turns increases their level of discomfort. It's one thing to have the technical knowledge, it's another thing entirely to put it all into practice.

I'm finished whining now so on with the show:

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Bob

Bob, Bobby, Dad, soon to be grandpa.  Husband to Audrey, father to Kylie and Tyler.  He is full of life, fun, energetic, excitable, dependable, caring and has been a good friend for a very long time.  There are many stories to tell on Bobby, none more famous the the great trek over the sand dune at Cape Cod way back in 1973.  The beach is just over that dune he said, and so we all set out, like 4 pack mules loaded down for a day at the beach.  The dune was high and trecherous, I wasn't certain I would make it to the top, but I did.  We all did, only to find there were six more sand dunes of similar proportions between us and the beach.  Leadership may not be one of his better qualities but he sure is fun to be around.  Love ya Bob.

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Kylie

Kylie, daughter to Audrey & Bob, sister to Tyler, wife to Louie and soon to be mom to Rocco.  (Don't ask, it's a long story.)  Kylie is much like her father, high spirited, fun, lively, bright and enthusiastic.  I think she's going to make one fine Mother to little Rocco.

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Tyler

Tyler, son to Audrey & Bob, brother to Kylie.  Tyler is soft spoken like his Mom, quiet, introspective and thoughtful with a killer smile.  I still can't figure out how's he remained unattached all these years.  Ladies, where are you?

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Betty

Betty, Bets sister to Audrey, wife to Randy.  Betty too is quiet and somewhat shy but behind that sweet, soft spoken demeaner hides a will of iron.  It was great reconnecting with her at Hilton Head after such a long time.

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Randy

Randy, husband to Betty.  I just met Randy this past week and I've gotta tell you he is one unique character.  Meant in a good way of course.  Randy is fun and funny.  He's often funny when he doesn't mean to be which makes him all the more funny.  Does that make sense?  It was a pleasure meeting you Randy, lets do it again soon.

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Bruce

Bruce, Dad, brother to Audrey & Betty, husband to Tracy and father to Allie and Adam. Bruce is the serious one, the attorney, intelligent, and hardworking. In fact he was up early each morning hard at work while I was stumbling around looking for my coffee. Oh and he is one heck of a sand castle builder.

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Tracy

Tracy, Mom. Tracy is wife to Bruce. She is strong willed, energetic, motivated, talented and has the ability to laugh at herself. Something I have to work at very hard. Tracy is the one you want on your team. She is the one who will push until the job is finished and done right. I believe she could move mountains just because she wanted them out of her way.

65 down - 935 to go


For those who have been emailing and calling to check on Henna, thank you. Physically she is much better since we picked her up at the kennel last Friday afternoon. She is eating normally and all signs point to an acute colitis as a result of stress. The sparkle is back in her eyes but emotionally she's not quite over it yet. She's still a little remote, not yet her old self but we see progress every day. I'm pretty certain by next week or sooner she will be back to normal. I'm also certain that we will never board her again.