Life’s good on our boat - July 31, 2006 -
Father, daughter
Born by the water
Surf’s up, sun’s down
Life in a beach town
Shells sink,
Dreams float
Life’s good on our boat
*Delaney Talks To Statues by Jimmy Buffett
Life in the Little House - July 31, 2006 -
Several people have e-mailed about our forays to the beach, wondering how our days are, and what we do. “Do you ever get tired of going to the beach?” “How do you keep the kids from getting too much sun?” “How do you afford it so often?”
The beach, for Bill and I, is like oxygen. We have to have it. It is just part of our souls…..it is who we are. If I had my way, we would be there right now. We would sell it all, and head to Mexico, home school the kids, surf like maniacs along the west coast and enjoy the culture. (sigh) Alas, we have yet to find a buried treasure full of money, so Bill must work and the beach must be reserved for weekend getaways.
We do get our fair share of sun. Before we even leave for the day, I lather the kids with mega sunscreen…usually Water Babies, but I am trying something new, Ocean Potion, at the recommendation of my SIL. The kids rarely get sunburned, but get do get very tan. There are a few red faces from time to time, but the only bad sunburn has been from a day of fishing when Bill and Cory forgot to load up on sunscreen.
As for how we afford it…..we budget. Money is one of the main reasons we went with a 5th wheel. We could not afford a beach house, or frequent overnight stays in a hotel. It costs $18 a night to stay at the county park. We limit eating out to once a trip…sometimes not at all, as in this trip to Port A. Eating in saves major bucks. Gas is becoming more of an issue. Thankfully, we are within a couple of hours from the beach, so it has not been too bad. We may have to cut our trips down to once a month if prices climb much higher.
As for our days at the beach, they sort of flow like the tides. So, in Travelogue fashion, I present to you a typical day at the beach in the Little House.
We rouse slowly in the morning. Mia climbs into bed with us, nurses, and falls back to sleep with Bill. I get up and make some coffee. Bill untangles himself from the toddler and heads to the beach for a.m. patrol.
The boys sleep in, usually coming out of their lair when they smell breakfast…..or until I lean in their room and tell them “Gameboys OFF!”
We lounge around until around 9am, sipping coffee and eating breakfast. Then we slowly gather our stuff to head to the beach. Once there, we surf, swim, surf, dig in the sand, surf, collect sea creatures, surf, and walk the shores. We stay there most of the day, returning around 4pm to clean up and start dinner.
Dinner is a big affair. We plan it throughout the day, and I try and make it special, while trying not to spend a fortune. Usually I buy everything I need before we leave, and load up the 5th wheel the night before. Once in Port A, we make small runs to the local grocery for milk, movies etc. on an as needed basis.
Our last night in Port A. I boiled shrimp, made spinach fettucine with crushed tomatoe sauce and a fresh salad. Lime daiquiris were the drink of choice.
Bill served up the kiddos.
The kids loved it, eating the shrimp dipped in cocktail sauce and cleaning their plates.
Bill and I sat outside and enjoyed our frosty drinks, then went with Mia for a gorgeous evening stroll on the beach.
We finished up the evening with a hilarious movie.
Around 10pm, the kids are off to bed, and Bill and I curl up in our room and visit briefly. Usually we are so worn out, sleep comes quickly. The silence at the park is amazing, and the air conditioner literally freezes us under the covers until morning.
Then, we begin again.
To my friend - July 30, 2006 -
This is an open invitation.
Those margaritas we have spoken of? We will drink them here:
Many of them.
And then we will go sit and watch the sunset here:
Our husbands will be watching the kids for us…… together……all 11 of them……..at the pool. They will want some of our margaritas.
We will see once endangered brown pelicans glide across a glassy sea.
The picture does not do it justice.
Rain? Why it just makes the view look like this:
The kids had a fabulous time. Shopping was wonderful. The margaritas were tasty….especially while floating round and round in the pool.
It was primo!
This is where I am from.
It was good to be home!
Work - July 22, 2006 -
Yesterday I went to my first day of work after being home for more than 3 years.
It was surreal to be in something other than shorts, and to talk with someone without them grabbing my face and yanking it around. People got up and went to the bathroom and I didn’t hear shouts of “mom, wipe my butt” and no one came out and dragged me by the hand to gaze down with admiration at their “big poo poo”.
Now, there is something called HIPAA, and I am a BIG advocate of patient confidentiality, so I will NEVER talk about my job on this blog. EVER. You may get “I am so tired” or “Man, I ran my butt off today” or “Work is fine. Work is great. I am completely fulfilled and well paid”. That will be it though. I just can’t go there. I have had my patient confidentiality violated before, so I know how it feels. Not to mention the newest blogger that was “Dooced”.
I will say this. I have NEVAH met a more friendly, accommodating group of people in all of my nursing career, and that is 12 years and counting. We can wear whatever color scrubs we want. We can wear Crocs (even the ones with holes). The best? We do self scheduling. You fill in the days you can work, and that is that. Un-freaking-real. The only rules are; closed toe shoes, we must wear socks or hose, and I must work 2 Saturday-Sunday shifts per month. No problemo.
The benefits and pay are unreal. Just unreal.
I feel intimidated by the unbelievable amount of new medications that have come out in my absence. Sheesh, how can I learn them all? Not to mention that the brain I once had, the one that could calculate drip rates in my mind and figure mg per ml on a moments notice, has been converted to a play back recorder primed with “Stop it” “No” “Get in here” “I said NO!” and “Who did this???” It is a very scary thing to be caring for, after a 3 year hiatus, a very ill human. I am quite sure that I have forgotten everything I learned and will surely ask my patients to sing the ABC song or to count to 10. I will refrain from clapping and exclaiming “YEAH!” when I see a big poo poo in the bedpan.
So, in a nutshell, I lurve my new job, but I miss my kids. I feel torn, and want to be home, but circumstances are such that this is a necessity.
Oh, and my big boo boo is healing nicely. I just pray that it is closed up by the time we hit the beach. I made it clear prior to the procedure that I would be in the ocean.
Dr. T: “Well, just make sure it is closed up. We don’t want an infection settling in”
Me: “Ah, but sea water is so healing, Tim!”
Dr. T: “Hmm, yes. Just don’t come home with Vibrio.”
Me: “No, probably just a few more skin cancers”
So, now I am freaked about Vibrio, as it is being reported along the coast.
Flippin’ Google.
**disclaimer…I can not be responsible for any spelling errors today, as my I think Tim must have pulled part of my brain out when he excised my lesion. That would explain the enormous incision that is going to scar like crazy. That, and I am too lazy to spell check this morning.
Scatter shot - July 20, 2006 -
I have decided that the only relationships I am interesting in having anymore are with my husband and kids.
Anything else is too draining.
I just have to wonder if anyone in this world is genuine anymore? I try to be. What you see is what you get. It may not be perfect, but it is real.
Men aren’t shits to each other, so why do women have to be so catty?
______________
Do you have the time
to listen to me whine
About nothing and everything
all at once
I am one of those
Melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone
No doubt about it
I am having a…..vascular, fleshy area removed from my shin in 30 minutes. Dr. T’s words when he saw it were “I will not be surprised if this comes back as cancer.” This time, I will be lucky if it is Basal cell.
I love my danish heritage, and could be related to this man, but I could have REALLY used my mothers Italian skin tone and flawless complexion right about now….dammit.
_______________
Yesterday was the day for milk spills, pee accidents, hairball barf, cat shit, and anything liquid to find its way onto my floors.
_______________
When you take an 8 x 10 wool rug outside to hose it off, ALWAYS remember to drape it over something first so that the water can run off. Make it something sturdy, like a steel support grid for a skyscraper, because the now soaking wet rug weighs 982 million tons. Don’t laugh while trying to lift it over the metal fence, because you will need all of your strength, and you and your husband cracking up just…will…not..cut…it.
_______________
If my blog looks like hell, and you can’t comment, or “REDRUM” flashes across the screen……….live with it. I am done. I am SOOOOO done.
Any difficulties? - July 19, 2006 -
Is anyone having commenting problems or browsing issues? If you are, could you take a second and e-mail me at jody2ms2000@yahoo.com and let me know.
**adding that I will be switching back and forth between 2-3 themes, testing each one for several days. If there seem to be one or more that do not load for you, or commenting becomes difficult, or it looks like a monkey did the HTML and everything is out of line, well….drop me a line please.
Thanks again!
The part where my head splits apart from hearing “Mommy, mommy” 652,000 times a day - July 18, 2006 -
My daughter….the one that I have longed for all of my life. The one that I went through miscarriage hell for. The one that I love with all of my heart and soul.
She is driving me up the ever loving wall.
Do ALL female children talk this much?
After coming from 3 boys, who I could basically classify as mimes for the first 3 years of their lives, having a live Chatty Cathy Doll is turning my mind into a liquid mass of neuron soup.
She starts off every sentence with “Mommy, mommy, mommy…” and only ends it after a 3 minute dialogue that makes my eyes glaze over.
Please don’t get me wrong. She is a complete love, and several times a day I can be seen nibbling on her little, fat, leg rolls and smothering her face, neck and feet in kisses. I adore her and am so not complaining.
It is just very different than what I am used to with the boys.
Is this a girl thing? Or do you have chatty boys as well?
*adding that I need to get the “Mommy, mommy, mommy” on tape, as she says it with the sweetest voice you have ever heard.
Clubfoot is so not a big deal!!!! - July 18, 2006 -
Again, someone has come to my site searching “terminating a pregnancy due to clubfoot”.
This beautiful child has clubfoot:
He is 5, and perfectly normal. His clubfoot was corrected with the Dimeglio French Physiotherapy method. There are links in my sidebar under “Clubfoot” that will direct you to various support groups and doctors.
My son is the joy of our lives. Please allow your child to be a joy to you as well.
_____________________________
I found this in one of the links for the above search. Not sure of the origin, but it churns my stomach. Terminating a pregnancy for clubfoot or cleft palate……..good God, help us. Read on.
Babies aborted for not being perfect
20:32pm 28th May 2006
Late terminations have been performed in recent years because the babies had club feet, official figures show.
Babies are being aborted with only minor defects.
Other babies were destroyed because they had webbed fingers or extra digits.
Such defects can often be corrected with a simple operation or physiotherapy.
The revelation sparked fears that abortion is increasingly being used to satisfy couples’ desire for the ‘perfect’ baby.
A leading doctor said people were right to be ‘totally shocked’ that abortions were being carried out for such conditions.
Campaigners warned we are turning into a society that can no longer tolerate imperfection. Doctors were recently told they can now screen IVF embryos to try to weed out inherited cancers.
Ethical groups fear parents are opting for abortions because they are not told of the support and help available if they continued with the pregnancy.
Details of the terminations emerged as new figures revealed an alarming rise in the use of an abortion pill that has been linked to 10 deaths.
Figures from the Office for National Statistics show that between 1996 and 2004, 20 babies were aborted after 20 weeks because they had a club foot.
It is one of the most common birth defects in Britain, affecting one in 1,000 babies each year. That means around 600 to 700 babies are born annually in the UK with the problem, which causes the feet to point downwards and in severe cases can cause a limp.
However it can be corrected without surgery using splints, plaster casts and boots. Naomi Davis, a leading paediatrician at Manchester Children’s Hospital who specialists in correcting club feet, said: ‘I think it is reasonable to be totally shocked that abortion is being offered for this.
‘It is entirely treatable. I can only think it is lack of information.’
Figures also show that four babies were aborted since 1996 because they were found to have webbed fingers or extra digits, which can be sorted out with simply surgery.
Remarkable pictures recently have revealed how at just 23 weeks baby in the womb appears to smile, yawn and flinch in pain.
In 2004 it emerged a baby was aborted at 28 weeks after scans showed it had a cleft palate. Curate Joanna Jepson tried to ensure criminal charges were brought against the two doctors involved but the authorities last year decided against prosecution.
She however vowed to continue in her fight to make terminations illegal after 24 weeks and to ensure cleft palates were not included within the term ’serious handicap’ and used to justify late abortions.
Ms Jepson reacted angrily to news of the club foot abortions.
‘The law was not designed for this,’ she said. ‘Actions like these are fostering a disposable attitude to human life and I’m extremely concerned it is going on.
‘I am appalled that the medical profession is allowing or even suggesting abortions for these conditions.’
Sue Banton, founder of the group Steps for parents of children with foot disorders, said last year one couple decided to terminate a pregnancy at 25 weeks after discovering their baby would have a section of foot missing.
‘We gave them other families to talk to, but they just didn’t want to know,’ she said. ‘It is terrible.
‘I know lots of perfectly nice people with this condition and you just can’t imagine them not being here.’
Pippa Spriggs from Cambridge, whose son Isaac is celebrating his second birthday in July, was dismayed when as scan showed her baby had a club foot.
‘Abortion certainly was not openly advised but it was made clear to me it was available,’ she said.
‘In fact he has been treated and the condition has now slowed him down at all.’
Julia Millington, of the Alive and Kicking Campaign, said: ‘It is all about our perceptions of perfection.
‘Increasingly things are moving along the lines where nothing is good enough.
‘It seems we can no longer tolerate any imperfection.
‘Babies are at the mercy of ultrasound scans and what they may disclose.’
Michaela Aston, from the pro-life group LIFE, said: ‘One sympathises for many of the parents of these unborn children aborted after disability has been detected.
‘What information are they being given by healthcare professionals so that they can make a truly informed choice?
‘We suspect that many parents make the decision to opt for abortion in complete ignorance of the help and support available to children with disabilities and their families.
‘For this, health care professionals must shoulder a large part of the blame.
‘If, as a society, we are truly committed to equality for people with disabilities then such blatant discrimination against the disabled unborn must stop.’
But Jane Fisher of the charity Antenatal Results and Choices defended the right of parents to terminate pregnancies when defects are found. ‘This is not part of a move towards designer babies,’ she said.
‘These are difficult and painful issues.’
Template tweeks - July 18, 2006 -
Okay, I finally found a template that I like, and that encorporates everything I have been looking for.
Could you let me know how it loads for you, if it is easy to read and please e-mail me if you have trouble commenting.
If this one works, this is it.
Thanks,
The Management
Summer time, summer time, sum-sum-summer time - July 18, 2006 -
We are blowin’ and goin’, so I am sorry if my posts are short, boring and non-existant for a bit. I am reading your blogs in between outings, as I can’t bear to get too far behind on your lives! Addiction at its best.
We were at the in-laws this weekend, and had a great time. That place is just so relaxing. We swam with the kids, drove around the property on the mule, and totally escaped from all the chaos at home.
Saturday, my in-laws watched all of the kids, and Bill and I took off and explored some of our old stomping grounds up north in Llano. It was so nice to be alone together. A.L.O.N.E. What a curious word.
On Sunday we hit the river with the kids. That place is just simply majestic. At one point, I was floating in the water, and I realized the only sounds I could hear were the gurgling water, and a lone eagle circling in the sky, screeching. I lay there wondering why we moved away from there. Our house was right on the Llano, 15 miles from the nearest town. I used to hoist Cody into the backpack and walk down the drive with Cory to swim in the river. I remembered the silence. Yes, it was majestic.
We enjoyed cool, clean water flowing over sparkling pink granite.
This is what our backyard looked like.
Here are the kiddos exploring the shore line, looking for frogs, lizards and rocks.
Pristine beauty, at its finest.
But nothing compares to this
**the rest of the pics are up at Flickr…just click on one of the above to get there.
Illusions - July 14, 2006 -
Yesterday evening, we got a babysitter and went for a bike ride. This was the first time I have ridden since the end of April. I don’t feel out of shape, as we have been surfing so much, but I asked Bill to be kind to me none-the-less. He has been riding at least 3x week for the last month or so.
It would be an understatement to say that my husband smoked me. He is 8 years my senior and he smoked me. This in and of itself would not be so humbling. Many of you out there could say “But, he is a male. Males are stronger, faster, etc etc”. Yes, this is true. Some males have a bit of an advantage on females.
The thing that makes this so remarkable, is that this male had a stroke 2 1/2 months ago……and he still kicked my arse.
I rode behind him much of the way, and I found myself watching him and looking for signs of the stroke. What I saw was perfect form, a lean, hard, strong body and effortless pedaling.
You would think that this would be so reassuring to me. It is, but then again it isn’t. I mean, he was like this before and then **WHAM** our lives were set upside down.
Just….like….that.
Last night after our ride, I sat beside him on the couch watching Le Tour. I turned to him and said “You know. I am not okay.” He looked at me quizzically and said “What do you mean?”
I told him that I am constantly on guard all the time now. When I hear him get up in the night to go to the bathroom, I wake fully and wonder if he is okay. If I hear him rustle in the cabinet where the medication is, I wonder if he has another headache. I watch his gait when he walks. If he grimaces at all, I freak. One time it was because a knat flew in his eye. I check in with him daily to see how his symptoms are (stroke syndrome lasts a long time….his residual at this point is the tingling, and it comes and goes in strength). A good day, one with almost no tingling, sets my mood up in the clouds. A day of stronger tingling or a return of any of the other sypmtoms can send me plummeting into worry and despair.
Don’t get me wrong. The roller coaster has leveled off dramatically. The huge, gut wrenching dips are gone for now. It is just the lingering feeling of…….of…..anticipation would be the only way I could describe it.
He rolled his eyes and said “Well, it sounds like you need to get a grip. You can’t live like that. I can’t live like that.”
This from the man that one night, while I was up and down with Mia and getting increasingly frustrated with her, decided that 2 a.m would be a good time to pull one on me. I came back to bed and he was breathing really funny, and making choking sounds. Folks, this is my husband. He is constantly messing with me, and has done this before. Nothing new, except the fact that I had read a few days earlier on a stroke forum a man describe that one early morning he awoke and heard his wife breathing funny and making choking sounds, and he called 911….she had had a stroke.
So, I climb into bed and hear this, and my logical mind knew it was Bill being a horses ass, because he had just been awake 2 minutes ago when Mia cried out. I punched him and told him to stop, and as usual, he didn’t. I tickled him, and got no response. I then started to get a bit alarmed, so I sat up and shook him, and it continued. At this point I started to cry and shake him, calling out his name. He sat up and said “what’s wrong? I am just kidding” and I started bawling and told him about the man on the computer.
Welcome to The World According to Stroke.
Riding with him, and seeing him strong and healthy made me feel happy.
But deep in my heart, I am scared that it is all an illusion.
**editted to add on 2/08 that, with almost 2 years behind us, I can say that it is not an illusion. He is fine and doing great. Typing this just now feels so damn good.
News from Scout camp - July 11, 2006 -
So, today at the pool I saw a friend that lives down the street. She came over and said, “I have a story to tell you about your son”. Apparently, her husband volunteered a day and night at Boy Scout camp, where Cory is this week. When he came home, this is the story he told her.
Apparently a rather large snake found its way into one of the tents, and all the sissy-boy camp leaders* were squealing and using sticks to get it out. They finally got it out of the tent, but couldn’t “shoo” it out of the camp site. The story goes, my son pushed through all the wussy daddies, walked up to the snake in true Jeff Corwin fashion, and grabbed it by its head in the proper snake hold, walked into the forest and let it go…..all to the stunned silence of the scout leaders.
One of the classes he had signed up to take and get a badge in was “Reptiles and Amphibians”.
You think he passed and got his badge?
*added for effect
**edited to add that they knew it was non-poisonous…Cory has memorized the The National Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Reptiles and Amphibians from cover to cover.
A Recipe for Bonnie - July 11, 2006 -
Pizza Rustica
Dough:
2 packages dry active yeast
2 cups whole wheat flour
3 cups ubleached white flour
2 cups hot water (120-130 degrees F)
6 tablespoons olive oil
Ground rock salt to taste
In a large bowl, combine yeast and 1 cup of each of the flours. Stir in hot water and olive oil. Allow to sit for a few minutes for yeast to dissolve. Stir in additional cup of wheat flour and 1 1/2 cups of the white flour and salt. Knead dough, on surface floured with remaining 1/2 cup white flour , until smooth and elastic. Knead for at least 5 minutes. Cover dough and let rest while you prepare toppings. Then divide dough in half, and roll each section into a large round.
I used a prepared green pesto sauce for the spinach pizza, and a roasted red pepper tomatoe sauce or a red pesto sauce for the other pizza. Put whatever toppings you might enjoy on top of the spread pesto, and brush edges of crust with extra virgin olive oil. Bake at 400 degrees until crust is lightly brown and spinach is wilted (I thinka bout 15-20 minutes, but watch it carefully)
I also took whole garlic cloves, roasted them, then sliced these onto the pizzas. MMmmmmmm
Pizza Rustica - July 9, 2006 -
I announced in the afternoon that I would be making pizza for dinner. It was met with cheers, hugs and general excitement.
Until they saw the pizza.
“That isn’t pizza!”
“Where is the cheese?”
“It has broccoli on it”
“Is that spinach?”
“Why is the crust brown?”
In an effort to reduce Bills genetically and dangerously high lipid levels, in addition to medication, we have gone all anti-cheese, anti-trans fat and are eating so healthy I have dropped a butt load of weight. I will not reveal just how much, until I am back at my pre-4babies5miscarriages weight.
I introduce to you “Let’s Keep Daddy Alive” pizza (sorry, I didn’t get cooked photos):
Marinara, zucchini, black olives and broccoli with whole wheat crust
Pesto, spinach, red peppers and roasted garlic with whole wheat crust
The kids? Well, they actually liked it. Even with zucchini “pepperoni”.
Yes, she’s going to the potty, potty - July 8, 2006 -
Is this a girl thing? I mean, I did nawthing. She potty trained herself. The boys? They were sawmthing else altogether.
I brought down the little wooden potty from the attic, and turned her loose on it.
Oh, and I popped this tape into the video player
And now she uses the potty every day.
Heredity - July 7, 2006 -
This would be a paternal trait.
Bill usually obsessively vacuums with his clothes on, though.
The Cajun boil from Hell - July 5, 2006 -
The other docs were off all weekend, so Bill was stuck working. We soooo wanted to head to the coast in the Little House, but it just didn’t work out that way.
So, we got up super early Tuesday morning and drove to the coast to spend the day.
There was a storm system pushing in from the Gulf, so all the throngs of tourists were heading out of Port A. Lucky us! We basically had the place to ourselves!
The beach was gorgeous, the surf was up, and it was nice and cool! It did pour rain (horrendous lightning too) at one point around noon, sending us for shelter under the pier. The rain ran down the beach, and the boys dug deep trenches for it to flow into. They got hoards of hermit crabs and made little, river habitats. They had way too much fun. Afterwards the sun came out and we all got toasted!
With the heavy rains, came lots of sargasm grass washing up on shore. The kids combed through it, finding Mermaid Purses, unusual shells and tons of sea creatures. They found empty Gatorade bottles and made miniature aquariums out of them, complete with small fish and little, tiny blue crabs.
We surfed to our hearts content
then loaded up around 4:30 and headed on into Rockport for something to eat. We ended up at this place called The Boiling Pot, and had the spiciest array of Cajun crabs, shrimp and crawfish we have ever eaten. Like in, HOLY CRAP, this is HOT, spicy. As in, hotter than Hell spicy. The kids ate it, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how they could stand it. Cody was applying ice to his face and mouth, but he kept eating and eating. It was hilarious.
We laughed and ate, and had a few Tecate’ with lime and salt………..these, were by far, the best tasting Tecate I have ever had. I guess it was the artful way they applied the salt, and the ample quantities of lime, but dang they were good….and cold to counter the hell fire we were eating.
On the way home, one of the kids said “This was the best day ever!” and I have got to agree!
Photo’s are up at Flickr…just click on one of the above photos to view the whole set. There are even pictures of pretty boats.
Oh, and my new post is up over at the Larger Famlies website. This week the theme is Frugality. Head on over and find out how to make your own loofah….and dont forget to leave a comment! We want to hear how you make it all work with a large family!
We “Yahoo!!!” our turds in Texas - July 3, 2006 -
I have squealed, clapped, gawked in wonder at, and praised more turds in the last 2 weeks, many more times than I would like to admit.
The wonder of the poop! Potty training at its finest!
Go Mama Mia!
Cheer song to come……complete with Rah! Rahs!
The deadliest catch………. - July 3, 2006 -
…………for the crabs, that is.
1/2 of the Alaskan King Crab leftovers:
And the streets were empty - July 1, 2006 -
There was a different kind of parade that went down Main Street this afternoon.
There were no crowds lining the street to watch.
There were no drums.
No trumpets.
No music of any kind.
Cars slowed, looked at the participants, then drove on.
A few people came out onto their porches to watch as the group passed.
There were no flags, whistles or men in uniform leading the parade.
Only a lone man, carrying a rosary, praying.
Behind him 4 young men and a young lady walked solemnly.
One of the young men carried on his shouder an enormous, solid wood cross. It was about 10 feet long, and 4 feet wide. It must have been extremely heavy. It was huge.
As I passed them, I rolled down my window and asked, other than the obvious, why they were walking that day.
The man at the front said it was a retreat group, and they were doing the stations of the cross.
The young man carrying the cross turned and looked at me, and I saw anguish. He was covered in sweat. His face was bright red, his mouth was opened as he panted and he looked exhausted.
I saw the face of Christ today after our 4th of July parade.
And the streets were empty.
Home town parade - July 1, 2006 -
They pass with our hands on our hearts
The long parade
Curls and floats
It is going to be one hot day
