THE DUST WILL WAIT

I've nominated Susan In Virginia for a January Perfect Post Award. If you have time for a tummy warming giggle, please click here for her January 10 episode of CSI : Virginia. This post made me laugh out loud, and then want to squeeze her and her three little imps in a big grandma hug. Then, I wanted to sneak under the table with Funny Girl and munch on Ghiradelli chocolates. Any one of her daily posts is apt to make you smile. I can't go to work in the morning unless I've clicked on her blog, ARE WE THERE YET, to see what Inquisitor, Golden Boy or Funny Girl have done or said that day. Visit Lindsay / Lucinda at www.suburbanturmoil.blogspot.com and MamaK at www.petroville.com on February 1st to see other Perfect Post awardees .

My Internet Provider did a security update after I left for the weekend trip. When I returned, my access to blogs and to my own E-mail has been limited and/or totally blocked. Apparently something went terribly wrong. The nice technical support person told me they were working hard to return us to normal service. Even my own blog is sometimes blocked. (It took me 4 hours last night to post my melting sunset. ) Hope to be back 100% soon. Willowtree. The sunset was about 5:20 p.m.

Watching the sun set on the ocean made me wish that I read the instructions on how to photograph a sunset. The zoom uncovered the changing shape. I've been told it is the curvature of the earth and the reflection on the ocean that provides the distorted shape on the horizen. I imagine a "real" photographer would have a filter. Or a much more expensive camera. The waves kept rolling into the beach and I never heard any sizzling. Have you seen the sun wearing a hat. Or is the sun really a sky submarine that dives beneath the surface. Or in the end, a puddle of wax, from the candle that lights the day. It rests and day is done. The heat in our room woke all of us at 3:00 a.m. We would have been funny to watch, all of us looking for our glasses in order to see the thermostat. Or a little fly on the ceiling listening to us babble: Who turned the heat on so high, I didn't do it. Well you touched it last. No, I got up to use the restroom and it was hot so I turned it do...

It is a horrific experience to see the movement of a car on your right, and then gaze into the rear view mirror at 55 MPH to watch it crash into your sisters car. I knew that car was going to hit her - it was like a second sense. I saw my sister's attempt to brake and the sudden fishtail before they plowed into each other. The other car would have been T-boned and it's driver seriously injured if not for that brief defensive move. The noise filled my ears and the glass and metal flew in all directions. The memory of braking and pulling over has not returned to my head, but sitting on the shoulder of the road dialing 911 in a panic is clear. I don't know why I just didn't hop out and start running back there. Maybe I was too afraid. Fortunately two handsome young men who were traveling right behind her were out of their car in an instant and rushing to both cars. The emergency vehicles arrived on the scene in minutes. The other driver was cited for failure to yield...

No. Not the Movie. Me and my two sisters. A trip to the ocean. We're going to meet at a lodge right on the beach where you can watch the waves roll in, the seals frolicking in the surf, and the the local kite enthusiasts digging in for the strong Pacific Ocean breezes. This weekend is long over due. I remember our very first sister weekend was scheduled when our fourth sister was still alive. Nelda called at the last moment and begged off because she had a sore throat. She never recovered. The diagnosis was an acute form of leukemia and she was gone before any of us could say goodbye. My sister Sandra is someone that Swampwitch would call her SOS or Sister of Survival. She beat breast cancer. Because of her fight I signed up and was accepted into a breast cancer research study coined the Sisters Study . I have given my blood, my urine, my vital statistics, and of all things, the dust in my house to be monitored over a period of years. "The Sister Study is the only...

Dirty Uncle Mark (who is barely old enough to be nephew age, much less Uncle) drinks Dagoba Hot Chocolate from his lovely bone china tea cup. When he grows up he is going to be an attorney. You have to hand wash bone china, so I'll let him do the dishes. I'm not nearly so fancy, with my cups or with my choice of chocolate. But I'll compare it to any brand, any day, any time. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Even the hubby enjoys it and he's not a chocolate fan. update OKAY! I ADMIT IT. I DON'T REALLY DRINK OUT THIS CUP.. grumble grumble grumble. (No, those aren't cocoa beans. Yes, I think they are real moose turds.) How do you drink your hot cocoa?

There isn't much left of the old locust tree. Once there was a tire swing that hung from the lower branches. In the spring the blossoms would perfume the air and scatter like a wedding quilt over our front lawn. Our youngest daughter would wheeze and search for her inhaler. The squirrels and birds made their homes high in its branches. The afternoon shade fell across my kitchen window and the sunlight would filter lightly through, painting designs on the cupboards and kitchen table. As summer was fulfilled and the sun moved to the north, the green mass would shade our cars and garage from the afternoon grilling. The breeze playing in the branches above brought to mind the sounds of pages turning and muffled giggles in the children's library. Its leaves came down with the first fall rain and left images on the sidewalk and leaf dunes against the cedar fence that runs from our house to next door. Winter found it a stalwart foe silhouetted by star light during the longest n...