Spiritual Stuff.

It is the afternoon of Thanksgiving day and Earl and I are playing it low key again this year. We have relatives scattered all over the Northeastern United States and parts of Switzerland this year, so we felt it was best that we just enjoy each other’s company for a quiet Thanksgiving celebration at home. Dinner isn’t until 5 p.m., so right now the delicious scents of Earl’s cooking efforts are wafting through the house as I type. It invokes many feelings of contentment.

A number of years ago my mother tried to start a family tradition where we would all say what we are thankful for as we sat at the dinner table and as the steaming, delicious food cooled down. I don’t know what inspired her to indulge in this Walton moment, but my aunt and uncle and my cousins didn’t feel the same sort of inspiration. I guess they didn’t buy into that mush. My mother still declared all that she is thankful for and though I never admitted it, I appreciated her efforts that year. Today It seems to be out of style to say what we are thankful on our blogs, as I have read several blogs today that featured news reports, deliberate efforts not to get mushy and bare body parts being suspiciously blurry and/or blacked out. I think I’m going to stick to my mother’s tradition this year.

I am thankful for a number of things. First and foremost is my partner, my soul mate and my husbear, the one that I call “the big guy” on Twitter. That would be Earl. After all these years he still puts up with the eccentric and erratic behaviour I bring to the table. We laugh at things that few would understand and he is always willing to take part in any scheme that I have cooked up. If this were a Bette Midler song I would have to say that he is my hero and the wind beneath my wings. I love my husbear in ways that I can’t describe, can’t express and just know to be.

I’m thankful for many others in my life. Though I tend to be a loner of sorts there are a few that I truly cherish and sometimes take for granted: Steve and Tim in Buffalo and Tim and Gordon in Cheyenne. I miss all of them and look forward to the next time we can get together. I’m also very thankful to have Greg and Dave as part of my life. Life is truly an adventure and should always include personal evolution, humour and a sense of destiny. It is good to be able to share the adventure with likeminded individuals.

There are many other things that I am thankful for including a warm home, a comfortable existence and a loving cat that adds his own paw print to The Manor. There are other folks too numerous to mention as well and for some reason I feel like I should get some sort of gold statue at the end of this entry so I’m just going to say this: Happy Thanksgiving and Blessed Be.

The alarm clock said 3:26. The house shook as another gust of wind pushed it’s way through. I looked out the bedroom window and saw that the lawn was lit up brilliantly, jumping up for a closer look I noticed it appeared to be a full moon.

The roar of the wind continued. I put on a pair of jockey shorts and made my way through the dark house to the patio door. The lawn furniture was doing it’s own little dance on the patio. The pillows ran across the lawn. The umbrella turned and shook in rhythm with the rest.

I went outside and made sure everything was secured. The moon was shining brilliantly. The wind was unbelievably warm and so very forceful. There was such power in that wind. Trees were bowing to Mother Nature in ways I haven’t seen them bow in a long time in these parts. I chased the pillows across the lawn and picked them up. They were easy to spot in the bright moonlight.

After everything was secure, I went back into the lawn. I was bare footed. The warm, strong winds caressed my body. I was bathed in moonlight. It was then that I found my nature based spiritual beliefs once again, and in the Wiccan tradition I went skyclad. I opened my arms and thanked the Universe for that incredibly beautiful moment. I felt alive. I felt refreshed. I felt that I was looking at beauty that few saw at that time of night.

I reveled in the experience for nearly 10 minutes before going back in the house. I then slept peacefully the rest of the night.

The year was 1996. It was my second or third visit to my future in-laws and shortly after Earl’s “big announcement”. Said announcement included the fact that the buddy he brought along the preceding Labor Day was more than a buddy, not only did we bounced bellies at football games but we bounced bellies (amongst other things) in bed too.

Anyway, it was a family gathering of some sort and I was meeting everyone for the first time; cousins, aunts, uncles, all sorts of relatives from all branches of the family tree were mangling my initials in all sorts of ways. I didn’t mind, I figured all was well if they were speaking to me and not spitting on me. I guess I’m easy to please.

Earl introduced me to a short, wild haired woman who looked like she really knew how to live life. “Hey Glad-ie”, he said to her before introducing me, “This is my Aunt Sissy.”

Aunt Sissy. At 73 or so years old at the time she was obviously the free spirit the cover of her book portrayed; she’d been through three husbands, three continents, countless bingo cards and an unmeasurable number of cigarettes. Her stature was short but her heart was obviously big. She grabbed my face and pulled it down to her face and gave me a big kiss on the lips, “Hello John!”. We have a winner, she got my name right.

She turned to Earl. “I hear you got a new car!” Earl had just bought a Hyundai Elantra.

“Yep.”

“Is it a convertible?”, she barked out. Aunt Sissy always talked loud.

“No, why?”

“I had a convertible once. A FRENCH convertible”, she said. “The top doesn’t go down but the driver does.”

Aunt Sissy shared that story, amongst a bunch of others, with us several times for next 12 years.

Last night we made the trek down to near Philadelphia to attend Aunt Sissy’s memorial service. She was 84 years old. She died of lung cancer.

Rest In Peace, Aunt Sissy. Enjoy the ride in your new convertible.

Picture It, Sicily, 1947…

Rest In Peace, Estelle. You brought a lot of laughter to a lot of people. We will miss you.

In 1992 I was a member of America Online. One of the earliest members, my screen name was simply DJJP. I participated in a couple of chat forums offered by the service, one of them devoted to the television show Bewitched. A rabid fan of the show, I would often answer questions that others had about the program and occasionally give clarification to Samantha’s family tree or which Dick was which and such.

After doing this for a number of months, I received an e-mail from the screen name “Bewitched”. It said, “I’m impressed with your knowledge of the show. You remember things I don’t remember, and I was there!”

After chatting back and forth with this person a number of times, she claimed to be Elizabeth Montgomery. The cynic in me responded with a “Yeah, right!” She then told me that this guy had been bothering her about talking about the show, she finally agreed to an interview and had managed to get together with Dick Sargent (second Darrin) and David White (Larry Tate) and that there would be a book released soon. (Herbie J. Pilato’s “The Bewitched Book” came out later that year.) I set aside my cynicism and to this day I believe with all my soul I chatted with Elizabeth Montgomery over e-mail for the next year or so. Her messages were infrequent and she giggled like a school girl when she posted her first message on the board correcting someone on an errant fact about the show. The messages stopped when she passed on.

Happy Birthday Lizzy. I know you’re enjoying life in the sparkle of a star.

I know that springtime is all about rebirth and new life and all that, but as usual I don’t conform to popular belief. For me, the best season of the year is occurring right now in the Northern Hemisphere and that is autumn. Today is the perfect autumn day: clear skies, bright sunshine, 70 degrees or so and just a hint of that crispness in the air that I’m fond of. It seems the trend will continue through the weekend.

Being a night owl I feel like I live my life in perpetual jet lag. Many don’t get this, but though I’m up at 6:30, I’m not awake until 10:30 or so. I stumble through the first four hours, feeling like I just stepped off a plane in from someplace far, far away. When I worked full time, I would come in after lunch, and having completed half of my workday, and I would say “Good morning! So nice to see you!” My co-workers would understand that I have no comprehension of what occurred prior to lunchtime.

I think being out in the sunlight helps. I know it chases my blues away. When I wake up and it’s still dark outside, I feel all depressed. This new version of Daylight Saving Time has me cranky beyond belief, but we’ll save that for another blog entry.

Just know that today I’m out enjoying the sunshine and letting the wind whip through my hair (?!?) as I shuttle between classes, home and work.

Here’s a few photos I snapped in the back lawn just moments ago. Descriptions are on my flickr page.

I am just returning from my first exam of the semester in Surveying. I think I did o.k. I know I didn’t ace it, but I think I at least got a decent grade. I found a couple of the questions frustrating because the professor scratched out a question and then handwrote a different question next to it that was crammed in a small space and didn’t really make sense to me.

Oy vey. Whatever.

Because of my exam experience I am kicking into daydream mode. Earl and I have quite a bit of travel ahead of us, for example we’re going to Ireland for a week in October. I’m really looking forward to the trip, as Earl’s stepbrother Rick and his girlfriend Helen are getting married on the cliffs. They witnessed our commitment ceremony back in 1996 so they asked us to come to Ireland and witness their marriage. The trip involves an educational shuffle but this sort of thing comes once in a lifetime so it’s well worth the song and dance I’m doing with the professors.

If a trip to Ireland (as well as a few upcoming weekend excursions) wasn’t enough, I’m already thinking about next summer. We’ve made camping plans for Memorial Day at Southwick Beach, we were lucky to get the “supersite” right on the beach! Plus, we’ve been tossing around ideas for a trip for my 40th birthday next July. There’s been rumblings of an Alaskan cruise and that is certainly an exciting option. However, I want to drive across the country again but Earl isn’t really interested in doing that. I want to visit our friends in Cheyenne, I want to drive around Area 51 again, and I want to hear, see and feel the serenity of the Arizona desert. I told him I’d meet him in Las Vegas – he can fly and I’ll drive the Jeep. People ask me, “why on earth would you drive across the country for a week when you can fly in a day?” Well, words can not describe the peace, the excitement and the sense of adventure I feel when I drive across the country. It’s as simple as that. I’m never at a loss for words, but I honestly can not describe the happiness I feel during the adventure of a road trip.

It’s as simple as that.

According to her official website, Brett Somers passed on on Saturday, Sept. 15. She was 83 years old.

Best known as a panelist on “Match Game”, Brett had a distinct cackle when she laughed that could be heard in most episodes of the show. She was the perfect comedic foil for Charles Nelson Reilly and the two would have great fun camping it up on the top row. Seen on other shows including The Odd Couple and Battlestar Galatica, she was married to Jack Klugman and while they separated, they never officially divorced. She had an off-Broadway one woman show as recently as two or three years ago.

Rest in peace, Brett.