Partying hearty with the Methodists and the neighbors

The "church ladies" below: Kathy Blue, Sharon Foster and Carol Hendricks















Neighbor David Poe with Caleb and Gillian, little members of our church family, playing in bucket of water with sea-life squirters




























Gary, Caleb and Gillian's dad, with Pastor Dee-Ann checking out Patti's whale pinata

Yours truly, indicating "c'mon over"

And our ever-patient Cathy, mother of the two cherubs, with Norleen, our church "Tigger"

Pastor's sons Miles and Jordan, snorkeling in the hot tub
Georgie with Patti's John Deere pinata, ready to bust into the goodies inside


















Pastor's husband David with George, inside, where it was cool, and so are they.

The beautiful Margaret McNally











And the lovely Regina Rohrer
The indomitable and funny (and once-nun) Pat White











And finally, little Gillian, playing with sparkly ball on the deck, with Vincent the Dog and owner David keeping watch:
WE HAD A PARTY! PEOPLE CAME AND ACTUALLY STAYED! WE HAD FUN. THAT's F-U-N! This is Eeyore nannygoat speaking. Really.

Is anybody out there?

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Nannygoat to Universe:


Is anybody out there??

I feel like Jody Foster in "Contact," sure that someone is there but not sure how to find you.

Hello? Hello?

Keeping a sister, losing a dream

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So the whole practice run for the eventual old lady house for Loie and Nanny didn't work out. The toll house has been abandoned, along with our dream of a perfect summer together, but all was not lost.

I think that there's a treasure chest in each of our hearts where we store our hopes and dreams and maybe even relics of things we've lost. So while the plans and dreams of a magical summer in Shepherdstown had to be tossed, the best part is that a sister relationship was put to the test and into the fiery furnace, tempered and pulled taut but not broken, strained but, in the end, hopefully stronger than it was before. Walking through the fire is never easy, but sometimes you gotta' do it to get to the other side where it's safe.

The short-term plans didn't work out, and I told Loie that maybe we have to wait until we both have a touch of dementia before we can live together in perfect harmony, but one thing I know for sure: my sister loves me, and I love my sister. And our oldest sister loves us both -- and right back at you, Rita Ann. What could be a greater treasure than that?

I'm wrapping it in tissue paper and tucking it into my treasure chest where the rare and valuable things in life always go. Strength through adversity, right?

Mole ISO Ratty: Piglet ISO Pooh

Are any of you who are fans of Piglet and Pooh also fans of "Wind in the Willows"? There's more wisdom in children's books than in most written for us "grown-ups," that's for sure. In "Wind in the Willows," the bon vivant Ratty, leader of the pack, is fearless and adventurous and pretty much owns the river and the river community. Only Badger is "bigger" than Rat, who becomes the protector of the timid and easily overwhelmed Mole.

And there's a similar theme in the "Winnie the Pooh" books, that of friend and protector. Poor little Piglet is scared of the world and seeks the hand of the oblivious and simple-minded Pooh, the enviable "bear of little brain" who wants nothing more than to have his small adventures, sing his honey songs and get his little smackerel of something when his tummy growls.

Today I have been reduced to a sniveling Piglet in search of the sure hand (or paw) of a loving and simple-minded Pooh who doesn't second-guess my fears and motives and who just wants to be my friend and protector, even if he isn't always the best at doing so. Or I want the steady and true friendship of Mole who, when his pal Ratty was about to give in to the seasonal urge to migrate away from his beloved home on the river, finally, when begging and reason failed, just sat his pudgy mole body on top of Rat and stayed there until the urge to migrate was gone. (My favorite part. ) What a friend Mole turned out to be. He knew what Ratty needed more than Rat himself did. See, Mole knew it was a very dangerous world out there, especially when you wandered too far from home, and he pulled out all the stops to protect his best friend Rat.

Today I understand why the world is so frightening for someone so small as Piglet, and I feel very small indeed.

Some days we just can't keep the wolves from the door with our hollow roars. Some days you get the bear, and some days the bear gets you. My score for the last 24 hours: The Bear - 10; Me - 3. A new receptionist at my evil doctor's office held my hand for a while, and my dear friend Patti held it right to the end. Not a bear of very little brain, that Patti -- more a Tigger of very much brain -- but she managed to be both here and in Dallas at the very same time. She works magic.

And at the very end of the very long day, my Bethy held my hand with her sticky-honey paw. I bet she'll even show me how to stick my Piglet arm into that "Hunny jar" so I can have a little smackerel of something with her.

Fireflies and honeysuckle

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The calendar doesn't say so, but it's summer here in West "By God" Virginia. It's not the steadily climbing temperatures or the awesome afternoon thunderstorms that confirm summer's arrival so much as two things that are timeless: fireflies and honeysuckle.

Three nights ago, around dusk and in a gently falling rain, I noticed the pasture next to my property sprinkled with the lights of sexually-aroused fireflies seeking mates -- in their first lovely and ritualistic orgy of summertime. As much as I dislike the heat of summer and the unwanted mania that stems from long hours of daylight, my heart opened to the rhythms of new life around me.

Oh, I had heard the calls of great-horned owls mating while the ground was still frozen -- and the soft hoots of newborn owlets in March. Then, in the soggy and cool month of May, as everything flowered, I could listen to the spring peepers, their chorus rising and falling in a lovely, trilling way. But those were signs of spring, which doesn't last long enough in these parts of four roughly-even seasons.

The morning after I saw the fireflies, I walked out early into a damp morning with the sun starting to burn off the fog, and there it was, the other sure sign of summers remembered from my childhood: the sweet smell of honeysuckle, permeating the air I breathed slowly, in and out.


I've read that global warming favors the growth of certain flora, especially vines. Here in West Virginia, our state flower should be something that grows on vines, like honeysuckle. Well, poison ivy is abundant, too, but it's as good for birds and other wildlife as it is toxic to humans, so I am willing to live and let live.

What about the rest of you on Ajax Rock? What says "summer" to you? Is it watermelon-seed spitting or picnics or sunburn or surfing? Is it going barefoot or eating ice cream? Front-porch sitting or hiding out in air-conditioned rooms? Lemonade or Margaritas?

Honeysuckle or fireflies?

The quasi-diagnosis: with correction

Well, I could have grossed you out with actual photographs of polyps and adenomas, but that would be TMI via images. So I picked this rather lovely, obviously-MRI-scanned image of an adenocarcinoma** to show you what was growing inside me. (My BFF Suzi, once a pre-med student, was alarmed and called to make sure I don't have an adenocrcinoma as the photo illustrates. As far as I know, I don't. I have "adenomas," thankfully not the same thing. My job is to prevent the pretty-but-lethal adenocarcinoma pictured.) While the gastroenterologist who performed her "cure" on me has not yet managed to call or write to me with results, I wheedled them out of my internist who is "not allowed" to interpret the results of my colonoscopy biopsies but did her best behind closed doors to explain to me the following: Many of the polyps were adenomas, "pre-cancerous," which will require close follow-up, probably another "procedure" within a year.

The dietary changes started to happen all by themselves post-procedure, when I began to crave even tasteless healthy food. I'll be taking basic yoga (breathing first) to help deal with stress, seeing a doctor who works with alternative therapies, and working up to the biggest challenge of all: stuffing the cigarette butts up the collective behinds of the tobacco company executives. If there's anyone out there who thinks it's easy when you're under the kind of daily stress I am, just remember that nicotine is more addictive than heroin. Maybe I'll have to go into rehab.

From all of you, I only request patience with my changing personality as I come off the uppers and downers -- and prayers to whomever or whatever you offer your prayers. Let's cover God, the Universe, Jesus Christ, the Buddah, Allah, goddesses, Mother Earth and whatever else we can collectively put in the pot.

May we all be well. It was John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, who posed the really important question, "Is it well with your soul?" That's what really counts when the shouting is over.

Home-cookin'

While everyone else was throwing racks of ribs, hot dogs and hamburgers into their shopping carts on Memorial Day week-end, this particular mom couldn't face food at all, still queasy from her recent "procedure." Still, "the kids" were coming on Sunday, and although the "no-cooking" pronouncement had been made, the thought of it coming to carry-out Chinese or pizza sent me to the dreaded Food Lion.

Laurie is carrying my grandson, so she -- and the rest of us -- needed lots of veggies, some red meat for her anemia, and fresh fruit. Voila! Slow-cooked roast beef with onion gravy, Amish egg noodles, spinach, peas and fresh carrots with strawberries for dessert. Looks like it was a winner all around, doesn't it?

Roena's spirit took over my weary body and produced some home-cookin'. Hey, guys, seconds anyone?

Those Theatre Kids...

So, here it goes, it is the end of the year, finals start next week and I was going through my computer and i found these. They are theatre pictures! for you all to see what i do during the yar i figured i would post them here. to warn you all before you look, some of these people are...strange...cooky, if you will. but they are my friends and here they are. (most of them are from the end of the year theatre party.)

this is what i spent time doing earlier in the year. I helped to build this! It is the set for Fiddler on the Roof, which was the first play we put on this year and was TONS of fun to do. (plus, i met kevin during it, and kate met Derek.) it was a beautiful set when it was all done.

the ever beautiful, always talented Hannah. She is a freshman, she and i have a FANTASTIC three years left together. she was in 'You Can't Take it With You' and was a main part in "I never sang for my father." she is wicked talented and i love the girl to death.

Parker Wilcox... a senior, he was in the festival play "i never sang for my father" he was the father, Tom. and while his character is a grumpy old man who is cruel and mean to his children, Parker is in fact, a sweetheart. I love Parker and I am going to miss him A LOT. Theatre won't be the same without him.

this is Steve. Steve is crazy. He is a freshman, does theatre, and is funny and outgoing and completely nuts. He is in a few of my classes and is just so darn funny!

This is what we theatre kids do when we are bored.

again, what we do when we are bored.

Kevin =]

this is Derek, kate' boyfriend...he is kind of a doofus.

The first actual picture i have of Kevin and me. At the end of the year theatre party on Thursday.

I love this kid. This is Tim. He is a junior. He does tech and acts and is like a stagemanager's dream. He is always where he is supposed to be when he is supposed to be there. He is also hysterically funny and quite the character. He is holding our mascots, Barnaby and Bixby.

this is the last one.... this is Hannah and Alyce. Hannah is wonderfully amazing and Alyce is too! Alyce is a sophmore and does props and acts and is a wonderful singer. I love her!