Saturday, November 3, 2018

Knocking Some Sense

I'm getting the bedroom ready for our littlest grandson, Nugget. Unpacking his and his brother's suitcase and readying the space for his "binky-time" as it's called.

I stand up quickly from the nightlight I was plugging in and cracked my head so hard on a little overhang in that corner of the room that I literally saw stars. I have a goose egg now that I'd love to call the Gray Goose, but I do color my hair so ha! That, just now, reminded me of a childhood nickname I had in school that I was not so fond of. Goosey. Because I've often been silly and annoying? Probably. I do remember HATING that name. Too sensitive always.

When I was in my 20s and dating my wasband my nickname was Dizzy. I did love that nickname, but there is a pattern emerging? Admit it girl. You can be a goose. Work in progress always and forever apparently.

I was seeing a therapist a couple of years ago and while telling my story (get this - I felt odd monopolizing the conversation - during my own therapy! I don't seem to have that problem in the world - I can monopolize with the best - what a bitch I can be) he asked me why I always feel any problem/situation/concern/conflict is only and always my fault. I have no answer. I have to say in my mind I am a bitcher and complainer so it never seems to me that I am a self-inflicted victim. I bitch incessantly about others - mostly to feel better about myself yes? Sheesh human beings are so predictable.

Yet, while telling him my story I pointed back at myself. Probably to elicit his sympathy. Eventually I ran away from therapy when the going was becoming difficult. Who wants to know why you suck? I need to stop fear around knowing the why of what I am and either keep the receipt for who I am or get my ass to the exchange counter and try harder.

I love Jane Fonda. I was watching her documentary where she is so honest with the things she's done wrong, taking that time to admit and lay it out there. But I sensed no self-flagellation around her confessions. She actually said during an interview in the documentary that, "I am what I am." No guilt around her past behaviors, yet a total awareness of what she had done and how it had effected others. I loved that. I admire her. Teach me Jane how to be so self-aware or strong or accepting of self. Seriously love all of her.

I keep reading that after a certain age we adults know how to maneuver in this world. We do? I think I was absent that day in class.

Knocked myself silly.
Knocked some sense into me.
Knocked off from work.
Knocked off a piece.
Knocked on the door.

It might be time to knock it out of the park.

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Day Eleven - Meaningful Experience

My week at a glance!

USPS - really?
What is happening right now?
Sweet baby-face girl. 
Sweet baby-face boy.
Two faces checking me out. 
Okay, I give up plow-guy, seriously? Ha!  😖

Monday, February 5, 2018

Day Ten - Meaningful Experience

Okay now.

Bumps in the road always let you know what's loose in your car. It's lovely!

Yesterday was breakfast out with the family. Happiness is truly sitting around a round table and being utterly charmed by the sweetness and happiness that is on grandchildren's faces. It's mood-swinging.

This video isn't from yesterday, but look at little self learning new things! Swoon.

Monday, January 22, 2018

Day Nine - Meaningful Experience

Checking out our new office space, taking notes, deciding where, what, how and knowing this is a huge move forward for us.

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Day Eight - Meaningful Experience

I'm writing about yesterday, but right now I'm sitting here waiting for Davie to come back to the door. This little puppers loves to be outside and will run around out there for the longest time! I'm fretting right now because she hasn't come back for what seems the longest time and it's dark out there. Gah this little puppy. And she doesn't listen to me a whit when she's outdoors. In all honesty, she doesn't listen to me much. 😒
Taken yesterday
Damn Davie! 😆

Okay . . . I went out in the 30 degrees (heatwave!!), walked to the top of the driveway, looked back at the door and there she was. Little monster! Ha

So, meaningful experience. Am I missing the intent behind this exercise? Wouldn't be the first time.



Clean space - clean mind.


Saturday, January 20, 2018

Day Seven - Meaningful Experience

I'm at the lake for the weekend for my 3-4 week check on the place.

That is meaningful all by itself.

I was listening to a podcast (latest obsession) last week and part of the talk was about order and simplicity and how when your physical world is in order you feel in order. I've known this my entire life!

When I had my corporate job my boss was constantly baffled by my needing a vacation day from time to time to organize and clean house. I would always tell her, "when my floors are clean, my mind is clean."

That's what I'm doing today. Cleaning my happiest of happy places and finding a new clean space in my mind.

Friday, January 19, 2018

Day Six - Meaningful Experience

This isn't getting easier! I am apparently meaningless! 😄

But I'm not.

Let's say here on this blank post-page that Thursdays are always a meaningful experience for me. I spend hours with my Bella while she's getting chemo and we are never at a loss for things to talk about. The mother/daughter thing. It's powerful and baffling and splendid.

Taken on the day she cut her hair. Look how those two have the same eyes!

Thursday, January 18, 2018

Day Five - Meaningful Experience

I got nothing.

. . . thinking . . .

gah . . .

I want to default to my grandsons, but I must have some meaningful experiences on my own.

Okay - my Pup is beginning to work late as season is nearly upon us. Our puppers, Davie, sleeps in bed with me, along with two cats, and when Pup comes to bed Davie automatically jumps down and gets into her kennel. Then in the morning when I get up, I let her out, feed her breakfast, and then she runs back upstairs and gets into bed with Pup.

She's cute and sweet and annoying. Exactly how this is meaningful I'll deal with later. I don't have a current photo!

blah blah blah

Not into this today . . .

Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Day Four - Meaningful Experience

I consider myself a reader, yet for several years I hadn't been doing much of it. I'm not counting my internet readings of the news or the random nutrition book I'd pick up, but true and real reading.

I started back up last April while Pup and I were in Mexico after season. I read Alec Baldwin's autobiography (and fell further in love with his flawed and awesome self). I devoured it. Then I went into my iBook app on my iPad and read book after book. And around the pool during the day I had two printed novels I had picked up for vacation and I was devouring them as well.

It hasn't stopped - this newfound love of books.

I sleep pretty good these days. Partly because if I do wake too early I pull out my iPad and pick up where I left off and read for a half hour or so and eventually drift back to sleep.
Drifting while dreaming about what I was reading. I am finding how to be still.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Day Three - Meaningful Experience

The idea behind this exercise is when we use our thoughts in different ways, the new ways - and hopefully fresh and splendid ways - will become rote, automatic, and gently bend our brain pathways in that improved way.

I think that's what it all means.

For me, allowing my mind to go to the dark places it loves isn't serving me any longer. I want joy - not necessarily happiness, but joy to infuse me.

I recently read that joy is happiness for no reason. NO DAMN reason. I loved reading that! Being happy all the time seemed unattainable and idiotic. That's a strong word - idiotic - but I'm leaving it in for now. I probably shouldn't write these right when I'm sipping my morning coffee! Or is this the true thinking and not the governed thinking I'll have later in the day when I apply my reason to it?

Oh dear!


Day three is tough to pin down. I worked from home. A sidebar on that - we recently bought our third business, hired some staff (they start next week), and acquired some staff. I've never had staff before and I'm struggling a bit.

It will all work out. I'm applying joy to the workplace as well. Although yesterday I did sink into my usual way. In my mind compliance is the right way (for staff) and patience is not my strong suit. I'm applying grace to this situation and seeing what today will bring.

So . . . I'm handling a very long list of biz to-dos and clearing out the final vestiges of Christmas. Yes - I'm that girl this year. It's been a long time coming! Now The Big Room looks bare and sad without the tree in the corner.

I'm also juggling loads and loads of laundry. Bags and bags of trash. Dishes. Dirty wood floors. Bunches of things laying about that had become homeless. Interior windows that had become filmy. Vacuuming that needed doing. Now the house is shining - at least the places I gave love to are.

So I'm looking for my moment. The thing I keep thinking about is our newish puppy. We adopted her from a rescue when she was six weeks old back in September. What the hell were we thinking! We have no idea what she is and now she is around six months. And a live wire. And goofy looking. And adorable.

So while I'm flitting here and there, cleaning and organizing and laundering and checking off my list, she's following me from room to room. Chewing, trash-diving, frolicking, Being my little PITA. I love her and am exasperated by her.
She's longer now and this shot is from the Lake House. Look at that face!
She would settle in on the couch, her office bed, the ottoman in The Big Room only to have to move because I left that space and had gone to another space. She only wants to be where I am.

That might keep her safe and alive through this puppy period! Joking.

She's a perfect distraction for me and comforting with her little warm body and deep brown eyes.


Monday, January 15, 2018

Day Two - Meaningful Experience

A scattered day. A good day. In the winter, during the busy season, we like to go to breakfast on Sunday mornings with parts of our family. Usually it's Pup's momma, Bella and the boys, occasionally Lorenzo and her Randalian, and any other random family members that want to come.

Yesterday was the first.

This right here was the moment.

The little jelly-smeared face. The Old Navy sweatshirt. The face. How our baby is more a toddler and looking like a grown boy.


Sunday, January 14, 2018

So . . . With All That Said . . . Let's Work on Happiness - Day One

I am smart AF
Yeah, I'm MacGyver
One meaningful experience every day written down for 21 days.

Mindfulness - this is my goal. The thing I am wanting to stretch towards. I have not a clue how to attain this, but I'm in.

Yesterday's Experience.

I'm in an old-school cafe. The likes of I haven't been in for decades! At least this particular type of cafe/pub. I'm not really certain what to call it. The establishment's name: The Best Steak House. Of which it isn't. But what it is is a great place for my memories.

When I was a very young adult; I'm speaking to my 17-19 year-old self, my friends and I were so young, and so broke, and so always needing a place to hang out as we weren't old enough to hit a bar. We would frequently go to this place, The Best Steak House, and have lunch or dinner.

The draw for this place was mostly economics. It was a cafeteria-style restaurant. You'd grab a tray, order, pick up your utensils, and find a booth. We girls enjoyed mild flirtations with the handsome Greek sons that worked at this family business and I have memories of these boys/men (they seemed so old to us! They were probably 25+) one of the boys always giving me a hard time for continuously ordering "meeeelk."

For $1.04 (back in the early 70s) you could get a hamburger steak, a baked potato with butter and sour cream, a salad, and a beverage. For me "meeelk" I'm guessing. Ha! Now get this - I can remember my typical winter outfit! What a mind I'm dealing with here. I would be wearing jeans with boots, a white t-shirt or sweater of some kind, and a long gray wool coat. I'd wear this outfit today! I'm classic. Age-wise and fashion-wise yes? Forgive me on my lack of wit - it's hella early here in Chez Emerson-land.

So . . . back to the meaningful experience.

Yesterday I went with my daughter Bella and my grandson Spud to get her hair cut. As Spud and I were sitting in the little lobby area and looking out the window on the brilliantly sunny and bitterly cold day I saw "The Best Steak House" directly across the street from the salon.

So there we are - the three of us. Bella and I enjoying a small sirloin steak medium rare and having a wandering chat about wandering stuff. We were in the moment. Talking about being in the moment with each other! Watching Spud turn A1 and Heinz 57 bottles into barriers and roads for his semi-truck to maneuver through. Knowing in my heart this moment is a keeper.


Saturday, November 25, 2017

Cancer is Inappropriate

My daughter has breast cancer.

She's 35 years old.

I know what to do and I don't know what to do. It's awful, terrible, fucked up. I have so many thoughts around all of it, yet I'm frozen. Frozen because this belongs to her. The feelings belong to her and yet I have them. I don't know what to do. I frantically try to not hijack her grief. What do I do with my grief? It seems selfish to have this grief. But I'm her momma. It never stops; the needing to make the hurts go away.

I try to cry when no one knows. I've watched people back away from my neediness. People just don't know what to say. I say that's okay. It's not okay. Word of advice to anyone reaching out to someone in their lives that needs solace - please do not say the fucking words that god never gives you more than you can handle. This is pure bullshit. Tell yourself this when it's your child having both of her breasts removed. Tell me how you feel then. I'll understand and never say that to you.

So I'm wallowing in my horrible grief. Not talking about it, yet lashing out in unexpected places. Isolating in my grief. Eating inappropriately. Acting inappropriately. All out inappropriate.

I have people I could talk to. I don't want to talk to them. I'm so angry. This surprises me. I'm even mad at my daughter a bit. Fucked up momma!

There are things I know about being a woman. Things that aren't being talked about. Breasts are part of being a woman. I don't mean in that fucked up way that has made breasts a marketing thing, but they are part of us in all the things that are important and not important compared to cancer.

Breasts are the first thing a boy will tentatively touch when you're kissing and kissing and tumbling around before you ever have sex. Then, when you have sex finally, they are a huge part of feeling sexy. Being sexy. Feeling desire. Feeling desired. Reaching orgasm. All of that. They feel heavy and they feel light as feathers. We lead with them and we distract with them and we hide them. All of that.

They change when we have babies. We feed our babies. They ache when our baby cries. They might be the first clue we're pregnant. We love them through our babies.

I grieve for that part for my daughter. Not that it's that fucking important, but yes, it is important. I don't have the right words for this. I don't have my thoughts in order. They may never be in order again.

My daughter is in the middle of all this shit. The ride for her is just beginning. I have more than hope that the outcome is going to be good. She's strong as shit. She doesn't know how strong she is. If you only knew how strong she is. Beyond this fucking cancer I'll tell you that.

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Lake Life

I'm at the lake.

We bought a lake house a couple of years ago and for the second year had the girls and some of their friends here for my birthday and anniversary event. Last year we attempted to have a big shindig that I dubbed The Shindig, but mostly only the young uns came to celebrate with us. The older crowd either doesn't have good feelings around sharing a bed in a dorm-like space, day-drinking like we're 35, or other reasons I'd rather not explore.

😁  -    that is the creepiest emoji I've seen!

So . . . since it's my birthday month and since I actually say childlike things like "birthday month" I am here until the middle of July more or less.

My sweet Pup left last night and won't be back for four days.

I like being here on my own.

So today all I did was laundry (Lots of guest laundry! The only downside to having company), dishes, cleaned out the fridge (oy to the things people leave!), floor mopping, and I took a long needed shower.

And since it rained most of the day I hung out on YouTube, watched movies, watched CNN on a Fire Stick, groused about the current state of politics, and ate a few inappropriate leftovers (grrr!), and nursed my bad knee.

It's lovely here. Quiet and serene. We have a momma deer and her baby frolicking through the yard from time to time and catching a glimpse of them is the BEST. I'd love to catch a photo of them, but enjoy them in the moment even more than reaching for my phone.

A few weeks ago Pup was mowing and found the brand new fawn cuddled up against the back of our garage. He made me call the DNR to make certain the baby wasn't abandoned and sure enough the momma will leave the baby in a safe place and go out and do momma things. Then the momma will return and move the baby. We saw the baby cuddled up near a tree line on our other property the next day. And now the baby is running with her/his long legs after the momma. Glorious to see.

I guess I don't have any message here. Although messages are not necessary are they? It's a great summer as it bounds along. Always lovely.


Sunday, June 18, 2017

Here's What I Love About Life

I recently had to switch clinics, and while dreading this, it has turned out great. Change really can be good! So I was at a yearly physical with a new doctor and she was going over my files and getting to know me and asking a great many questions.

"Do you smoke?"
"How much do you drink?"
"When was your last tetanus shot?"
"Do you have any allergies?"
"Does your husband treat you good?"

I'm answering away - answers flying out of my mouth easily.

"I quit in 1997"
"A few cocktails 2-3 times a month"
"I don't know!"
"Pain killers (weird I know)"
"He's my sweetie, he's my husband"

The last answer shot out of my mouth so fast it made both of us laugh! I loved how she slipped that in there and it worked perfectly. It was my true and real answer.

My Pup and I met in 2005 - both of us divorced from our first spouses. We married in 2009. Our 8th anniversary is coming on June 25 - which is crazy! - and when I left that doctor's office I couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day.

That answer popped out my mouth in true and real fashion.

I read an article recently that said people you love can make you yawn along with them far more often than people you don't love. I'm yawning a lot since 2005.

xxoo my people!

Friday, November 4, 2016

Still Crazy After All These Years

I've been obsessed.

It is part of my particular contiguous nature - meaning, in my head anyway, the pieces of myself that do form the whole. You know, the sum of the parts is greater than the whole.


Yes, I think I mean that.

But, obsessed still. This is a long way of saying I do have an obsessive nature. So the latest in my obsessions is YouTube. The beginnings of this, as many of my obsessions, comes from my early morning rumblings and wanderings on the internet. It was bound to happen - so many times when a thing is researched that search will lead you to YouTube.

So now I'm finding myself down rabbit hole after rabbit hole. One subject with dozens and dozens of answers. I dig in!

  • How to apply makeup, tightlining in particular
  • How to create a messy bun
  • How to pick an organizing system
  • How to clean dirty grout
  • How to make perfect coffee
  • How to have the loveliest skin
  • How to set up your 2017 agenda

Nothing earth shattering, but everything orbiting in my obsessions. I'm discovering that no matter how much of a nut I believe my doings and oooings, refoldings and holdings, disciplines and lack of disciplines - there is someone out there nuttier than I could dream of being.

Such comfort!

Is that bad?

And the community of women! Lovely lovely women! Talented, smartly spoken, beautiful, kind, knowledgable, sharing women. My search list is varied and long. I'm obsessed!

I think I want to join them.

I do confess things in my hidden delightful place, this blog. Because it's out here in scary, scary land, but it's also everyman's land. The land that time has forgotten. Because we don't, for the most part, read more than headlines (I'm not counting all of us book readers) so the actual words written here in this hidden place are safe and camouflaged. And I love a disguise!

Bisou my beauties.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

I'm Still Hungry

Two and a half and stinkin cute.
What is it about getting older that has you taking your own inventory each and every day? I haven't figured if this is a good thing or a bad thing. It certainly is a thing!

Steadfast in my thinking, wishy-washy in my beliefs. tender-feelinged in more than a few moments. I feel as though I'm "working" on all of this always and forever. Is this good? Sheesh! The things out of my control are the things that are out of my control! Stuck and stymied. Yuck and ish!

The Daily Gratitude List

Todays is this:
  • healthy
  • family is healthy
  • more often than not happy
  • when not happy I dig deep to find the facts of it
I was recently at a family event and a few members (Pup's family I should say) were saying that they are blah blah age and don't have to try anything new if they don't want to. I said, out loud as my bad luck would have it, that if I didn't have a desire to learn or try new things when given an opportunity or even seek out those opportunities, I would be sad each and every day!

The people I know that are older and happiest are the ones that are still learning. 

Raise your glass of tequila (or your beverage of choice) and give me a "hell yeah!"

Thursday, December 31, 2015


I used to LOVE blogging. It didn't matter who was listening or what I said or where I was.

Then it dried up. I didn't have any more to say. If you knew me you'd say, "Liar! You say plenty and you say it often!"

Yeah, that's true, but I'm not talking about my inappropriate yapping. Not that I do that!

::insert emoji with hands on her face, head tilted, innocent look:: (I'm really beginning to hate emojis)

Yeah, I do that sometimes. In fact, this past summer while up at the lake, early on when we were settling in, we had our dear friends over. They were helping us unpack and everything else! We were in the living room taking a break and we were talking and laughing about who knows. I made a joke about my blurting (for some reason) and my friend did her own blurt, "You should stop! Some day you're going to get stabbed!"

We all fell out laughing, but I've thought about that from time to time. I do blurt at times. And I talk about how I blurt. It seems I'm not alone with the blurting, but, probably because I talk about it too much, my blurting gets noticed. Or I'm just much worse than I think.

I didn't mean to get on here and blurt about blurting!

Maybe I did though.
I am blessed!
I've been on a research-binge the past few weeks. I'm always on the hunt for the reasons behind my problems. I won't go into the exact nature of my problems although that might be a good thing to write about eventually. A purging if you will. And maybe a good place to organize these thoughts. Because you know when the thoughts are wild I can't get no relief.

Frankly, that was the start for the research-binge. I have insomnia to a degree. For years now. I read over and fucking over how nothing is going to align with the gods in my life if I don't get the sleeping fixed. But how? I've done everything believe me. With varying degrees of success. Nothing ever everlasting.

I found a great doctor a few years ago that is helping me get balance (love him to death!). I found him just in the nick of time too I think. I was beginning to careen off road emotionally and inappropriately and that feeling is horrible. And as a woman of my age coping with these horrendous mood swings, the racing and negative thoughts, the inability to ever lose the weight I want, and the hot flashes! Holy shit the flashes. I was working retail at the time and I swear I was having at least 20-30 during a shift. I noticed them the most there because I was out in the public. Nothing more attractive than a sweaty woman helping you find an outfit or ringing up your purchase. Gah

So I found my lovely doctor and we have that part so much under control. I have maybe one or two a day! Oh blessed relief.

But no help on the insomnia.

Now, I'm not laying night after night awake like a zombie (is that what zombies do? I never jumped on the zombie wagon!), but I do not stay asleep. When those eyes pop open at 3 o'clock it's a sad sad morning.

So I fall asleep in odd places during the day. Often in the afternoons when I'm watching the sweet little Spud (he's 2 years-old now!) I'll sit down in the living room "for a minute" and oftentimes fall asleep. Dr. S says this is good. Naps are good for your heart. But I feel like I should be DOING something. You know? Not napping.

But, in addition to that, I fall asleep at the movies. Pup and I LOVE going to the movies. And there I am, asleep. We went to one recently and I gave up, rolled on my side (theatre had those lounge chairs), covered up with my pashmina, and took a $15 nap. wth

I am laughing so hard to myself right now! I didn't think I had anything to say and all of this is rolling out like silky sand.

So - long story short - or maybe just the tease of the beginning of this f-ing story - I'm sick of all this shit. Sick of knowing something is amiss.

So - while poking around for something else (isn't that always the way?) I stumbled on a vlog of a guy talking (he's not just a guy, he's a chiropractor) about this thing and that thing.

He had a little test and one of the questions was, "Do you have an intolerance of stupid people? Do you holler at people in traffic? Does no one do things right in your book? Do you walk in a room and only see the one thing out of place instead of all the in-place items?

I was dumbfounded by these questions. I thought I was just an asshole. I didn't know there could be a thing going on.


I love this shit. I really do!

Apologies for all the swearing. That just flowed out like sewage, but maybe it was clogging my sweet innards. Heh!

So . . . here I am . . . looking for answers as I always am. I will report back.

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Filling All My Dreams

Absolutely no artwork up anywhere, but here are a few shots around the loft and of the new ceiling fans Pup installed.

I'll be tweaking forever from now on. It's always fun searching for stuff. I have a few ideas for the living room walls.

No more nipple lights. Anyone that has seen newer construction knows what I'm talking about. Bam! Gone!
Our bedroom. We're sleeping on a queen sized bed. It's cozy!
Loft bunk beds. 
That futon turns into a double bed. 
View from top of stairs.
Guest room. When Bella and Spud are here it's their room. 
Living Room - Pup's bachelor couch reestablished 

Monday, August 24, 2015

What Are You Waiting For?

With the excitement of buying the cabin, we knew we wanted a boat. A few family members and friends thought we could wait until next year because the season is so old, but we were hellbent to get one. Now. So we did.

A pontoon. Super cute. Super huge. Super learning curve!

Our cabin is on 3800 acres of lakes. A huge chain of lakes. We're located at the bottom of the chain in a rather marshy spot. Lots of otters, Lots of mushy ick just waiting to get stuck in your outboard. Which happened to us repeatedly.

So endlessly we're checking to see if the engine is peeing. "Is it peeing?" Do you see it peeing?"

We had Mikey with us to help us with the launching, starting, and general learnage of our huge, lovely boat (tentatively named "Flipper." Pup isn't all in on that name. I am.).

It was over 90 degrees and the dewpoints were in the 70s. Yeah, Minnesota/Wisconsin can get hella hot. People from other parts of the country find that hard to believe. But we don't. We were all sweating like whores in church. Oh wait, that's a horrible metaphor. But we was sweatin'. Like everythang. And I sweat the most. Always have. There's just something about a high dewpoint that makes me feel like my skin cannot breath. I'm just damp and sweatin' and miserable.

So we loaded up the boat with all of us, Pup, me, Lorenzo, Bella, Spud, Lorenzo's friend Rey (who was hungover as hell, poor sweet girl).

We tried to stay in what Larry (former owner) called the "driveway." The place in the marsh where you can see other boats have gone over and over. So there's a path of sorts right through all the wild rice and stuff.

But we got off course and mushed up the motor.

Finally we're out in the great expanse of lakes and Mikey's giving us updates.

"She's not peeing."

"She's only peeing a little."

So we'd stop, poke the peehole with a stick and start off again.

Flipper stops peeing entirely.

We're wondering what to do. So Mikey waves down a couple of young men on the shore.

"We have some trouble. Could you tow us to the boat launch? We'd pay for your trouble!"

The boys say sure!

We putt over to their dock. We're discussing what and where and how when a head suddenly appears from above us on the deck. A neat, athletic, head.

"What's the trouble?" He asks.

We explain.

Before you could think about all those whores sweating in church, he bounds down to the dock and leaps onto our boat. A 5'4" bundle of Guido. All muscles, colorful tanktop, athlesure pants, and white Addidas. An ass I could not take my eyes off of. Seriously! We all thought so!

He took charge. Not peeing? Simple! Suck on that thang!

"Boy!" he hollered, "suck on that for these guys."

I laughed to myself thinking, "That's never going to happen . . . "

But it did. His kid sucked on the intake (or whatever the hell it is) and cleared out the muck. Beyond the call. What the hell? How wonderful are these guys?

The athletic, hot, Guido-dad ran down the length of Flipper and made a three foot leap from our boat to the dock. A collective sigh went up from the female portion of the observants (well, maybe it was only me). I think the guys were a bit impressed as well. They would lie if asked wouldn't they?


We putted home happy and peeing like crazy.

As we entered the long driveway leading to our dock we saw people checking us out. Mikey said, "Hi! These guys are new to the lake." And the people replied, "Oh! Larry's people!"

Nice to know we're home. I rather like being "Larry's People."