Unexpected Concern

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Friends / Family, Frustration

Last week, my sister was informed that her contract would not be honored. She is a teacher, in Georgia. I know she loves what she does, and she’s excited about teaching still. I certainly hope things turn around soon, or something opens up for her.

I am concerned about her, because unlike me, she’s a planner. She likes things to be lined up, ready to go. She has an agenda, and knows her next step. She doesn’t like change to be imposed upon her. I know she’s worried about how things will work out from here. I know she’ll find *something* to do, and I know she’ll throw herself into it full-force, making it the best job in the world.

What scares me the most about this has nothing to do with the actual crisis our economy is facing. I know, firsthand, that the job market is not picking up, that the economic crisis is not yet over. I have faced hardship and struggle unlike anything I could have ever expected. Knowing it firsthand did not concern me nearly as much as watching teachers all over the country being laid off.

Why, you ask? Because our parents always told us if we became teachers our jobs would always be secure. Funny how something so simple can affect a person all the way down to their core. There are times when I love proving my parents wrong. This is *not* one of those times!

Selfishness & Forgiveness

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Friends / Family, Frustration
Selfishness must always be forgiven you know, because there is no hope of a cure.
~Jane Austen

The other night, Rena and I had a “fight.” I spoke, she pouted/whined/spoke back, I got angry at her for acting like a spoiled brat, and then we texted for an hour, working it out (I find it easier to get her to talk when not face-to-face, especially if I am already angry at her and trying not to yell).

It was a silly argument: she has clothes in her closet that she does not wear. Most of these are clothes she has asked for at some point. They are all clothes that are beautiful, and none are clothes that I forced her to choose against her will. I have asked her before to make sure she starts wearing more of her clothes. She tells me things like, “it doesn’t fit anymore,” or “I don’t really like it - I only bought it because I didn’t want to disappoint you.” Uhm, excuse me: it would have fit six months ago if you would have worn it when you asked for it, and I do NOT exert “motherly control” over your wardrobe!

The “fighting” portion of this scenario ended with me ripping (ok, removing with her permission … “ripping” sounds more like what I wanted to do!) the sweater off of her person and throwing it in the garbage to show her what a waste it was for her not to wear it. (It is in the laundry now, folks - I did *not* throw my money away literally! Besides, my niece loves the damn sweater and will be thrilled to wear it!)

Later, in our text discussion, I told her I was angry because I asked her to wear a sweater before it got too small, and she felt like she needed to argue/pout/whine about it. I let her know I did not EVER want to see that behavior again - she knows it angers me, because we’ve discussed it when we have seen other children treating their parents that way. I also let her know I felt like such an attitude was the display of a spoiled, ungrateful child.

My parents did not give me a choice with my own clothing growing up. I always swore I would not treat my own children that way. I have always given Rena choices, and allowed her to express herself however she chooses through her hair and wardrobe. On the other hand, I hate wastefulness. I do not want to be spending what little money we have on something that will go to total waste. It is frustrating and depressing.

I feel like maybe my working so hard to ensure she doesn’t feel deprived has gone too far. I think maybe she is a little spoiled. I’m cooking up a little plan in my head, and I hope to implement it soon. If I do, you know I’ll blog about it! Until then, I am going to remove all the clothes from my daughter’s room that she doesn’t wear. When she ONLY has the choice of the handful of items she wears, I’ll bet she’ll start wanting more options. And when she does, she’ll realize that maybe she needs to listen to me more often and start wearing more of her clothes!

(Thinking on it now, I am realizing the problem is her liking something and wanting to wear it, then realizing her friends probably won’t approve, and chickening out. She’s done that with a few other things before, only with those it was more obvious because she bought items or put together outfits for special days at school - crazy hat day, mismatch day, twins day, etc - then decided at teh last minute not to wear them. I’m obviously going to have to talk to her about peer pressure in relation to even the smallest of decisions.)

This whole scenario represents the lowest of lows in parenting. I shouldn’t have lost my temper - I’m still not sure why it affected me so deeply, although something hormonal is likely, considering the timeline. I do know that while I am not proud of it, and despite the fact that I’ve had a few “friends” on Plurk tell me I’m a shitty mother, I am glad it happened. I’d rather confront her spoiled attitude over something small, rather than have it be displayed over something that truly matters in the scheme of life. At least now I have the opportunity to guide her in another direction!

Feel free to tell me your thoughts in the comments — good and bad.

xoxox

Sad Day

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Friends / Family, Frustration

Tonight, i found out a friend of mine tried to commit suicide. It saddens me that I have been so removed, I wasn’t around to talk to him. It saddens me more that he felt this was his only recourse.

My friend, you are important. To me, and to others who know you. Please, reach out to us to at least talk. We may not be able to fix things, but maybe we can help inject some humor into the situation.

xoxo

Judgement Day, continued

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Friends / Family, Frustration, Goodness, Random

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Note:

This story is continued from yesterday’s post, Judgment Day. Thanks :)

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I stared at my (step)mother, unbelieving. This woman-the most open, accepting, generous woman I had ever known-was upset there might be a non-white child born into our family. I was devastated. Up to this point, I idolized my (step)mother.

I am happy to share she erased racism from her heart and mind soon after this incident. It took another year or so, but she learned the error of her ways. She even chose a predominantly black Church as her place of worship when she accepted Christ back into her life. In fact, when I went to Church with her and my brother … we were the *only* three white folk to be found.

After my (step)mother passed away, my Dad met another really nice lady. I love her, and she absolutely dotes on Dad. It makes me happy to know he has found another woman he clicks so well with, and who is absolutely devoted to him. We were at one of our family dinners (Lil Lady and I used to go over weekly, when we lived back home) one night, and Dad’s new lady was telling us a hilarious story.

Then, she made a comment about having to drive through a certain part of town. My fork stopped halfway to my mouth, I stared at her in shock, glanced over at my Dad, and back to her. She tried to quickly cover it up, and backtrack … but the moment had been ruined for me.

Another racist remark by someone I love and respect … will it never end?? The hardest part of the situation for me is although she’s a very accepting and non-judgmental person, she just did not understand the inappropriateness of referring to that part of town in the same way they did as kids, when segregation was still in effect.

I find that sad, and disheartening. I find it disappointing, and I am embarrassed to admit that there are so many narrow-minded people in the world. I wish more people would understand that just because you do not practice active racism (or reverse racism), it is NOT okay to make racist jokes or use derogatory terms, PERIOD.

I know I am raising my daughter with open-mindedness and love in her heart. She sees people, not colors or religions or some other boundary. She is excited to learn about new cultures, and she appreciates that there are different views in the world.

I am proud of her for keeping these views, despite being the victim of reverse racism in her old school and after-school program. She continued to reach out to the people who judged her, until she eventually developed a few friendships. It helped, of course, when they realized that we attended the same Church, and were accepted by their Preacher as family (as my brother was dating the Preacher’s daughter). *grins*

By the way, my friend Tonya in the last post? She and I are still in touch, too. We don’t talk often, but about 15 years after the last time we saw each other, she researched my name on the internet and found my phone number. She thought I lived on the East coast growing up, and looked for me in Jacksonville.

A twist in the story of her trying to find me: I had not ever lived in Jacksonville before - my family is from south, central Florida. My parents, siblings, and I lived in Tampa and Fort Walton Beach when I was in 3rd-5th grade, and again when I was in 8th grade, until a couple of years after I graduated high school. Ironically, I was stationed there at the time she chose to look me up.

Jacksonville is where she thought I had been living all along, but I had only moved there about a year before she contacted me. I was so excited to hear from her, and I cannot wait til one day I get to meet up with her again. For the last several years, she’s been working as a contractor in Iraq. One day, we’re going to get together and chat it up, just like old times.

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P.S. Don’t forget to stop by and donate a few buckaroos to help my friend Aidan and the rest of Team Taji in their efforts to collect enough school supplies for children to be able to attend the school they are helping to rebuild.

xoox

Judgment Day

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Friends / Family, Frustration, Goodness, Random

Ever since I was a little girl, I carved out my own little path, culled out my own little niche, and tried to do things my way. It was not an easy feat: my parental units were overbearingly decided on how things should be done, when they could take place, and where they would be set. Any sign of making our own decisions or showing initiative was immediately stamped down.

I have always had friends that did not meet my parents’ approval. At first, I did not understand that they were just biding their time, knowing we would be leaving soon anyway (military family, we moved every couple of years). Soon, though, my friends began pointing out to ME that my parents did not approve of our friendships. I always said they were crazy, my parents were GREAT and loved EVERYONE!

My big, pink, puffy heart was shattered when I started to realize I was wrong and my friends were not. The first time I realized I was wrong was with my friend Tonya. She was intelligent and beautiful and sweet and caring, and I was so lucky she introduced herself to me when I first arrived at the elementary school I attended on base in England. She took my hand, warned me away from the “mean kids” who were attempting to jostle my spirit, and introduced me to the sweet gyrls who would form my friendship circle. Tonya’s only downfall? She was black.

I am ashamed to admit that while I knew my parents did not like her, I did not believe they were racist until many, many years later–when I was 26. I did not believe my friend … and I let her down in my ignorance.

The second time I realized my parents did not like one of my friends was when I was in 8th grade, and my *old* best friend from this little military town (we’ll call it Fort Eg) introduced me to her then-best friend. See, my old best friend (let’s call her Georgia) and I met when I lived in Fort Eg BEFORE I moved to England. We came back to the same base, which was exciting for me - I had ready-made friends!

So anyway, Georgia introduced me to her BFF, Christy.  Christy was peppy and bubbly and cute and funny and completely, totally, effervescent. I adored her immediately, and we bonded instantly. Christy and I couldn’t help but become BFFs, and we did not mean for anyone to feel left out or shunned … but Georgia pulled away from us anyway. She began doing things and hanging out with people she had previously found repulsive. In all honesty, while we missed Georgia … Christy and I didn’t miss out on anything. We had each other, and two other girlfriends. A perfect quartette.

Back to the story … I realized almost instantly that my parents did not approve of Christy. I didn’t understand the reasoning behind their dislike, either. But in their minds, her family’s poor income was enough for them to want me to set her aside. It is a good thing I believed in my heart more than I believed in their word: Christy and I are best friends to this day. She is the greatest gift of friendship I have ever received. We have definitely had our ups and downs, but our hearts know we’re soulmates in friendship.

A little later in life, I began to realize my parents disdain for other friends - both past and (at the time) present. It saddened me to realized my parents were not only judgmental, but also racist. I could not understand this concept: all four of my parents had grown up poor. My mother’s family lived in a chicken coop (seriously!) that was converted to a one-room shelter. My (step)father’s family wasn’t much more wealthy. My father’s family was not quite as poor, but with several children, sometimes things were spread thin. My (step)mother’s family were often hit with hard times, between illnesses and job losses … and with several children in the family (including one handicapped child), money was tight more often than not.

Not to mention: my mother is NOT white. She’s Mexican. Well, she’s American, of Mexican descent. She’s the first generation of Americans in our family. She was born here in the U.S. to immigrant (legal) parents.

Another saddening story: my (then-teenage) youngest (living) brother had a girlfriend who, shortly after they split up, found out she was pregnant. My (step)mother and I were discussing the possibility of him being the father. Now my (step)mother had no issue with my youngest (living) brother dating the young lady - who was half black, half Puerto Rican. In fact, both of my brothers had gone for the “exotic” rather than “white” girls in their dating choices. In fact, my other younger brother dated black girls almost exclusively (and still dates black women almost exclusively; I’m fairly certain I have only seen him with one non-black female).

However, when we were discussing my youngest (living) brother having possibly become a parent while still in his sophomore year of high-school, I was shocked to learn that *this* was not the point of contention in the situation. Instead, my (step)mother blurted out, “I sure hope the baby isn’t black!” I was so shocked I could not breathe. I couldn’t speak.

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My blog won’t post anymore of this story on this page … so I’ll continue tomorrow with the rest of my thoughts.

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xoxo

Don’t forget to stop by and donate a few buckaroos to help my friend Aidan and the rest of Team Taji in their efforts to collect enough school supplies for children to be able to attend the school they are helping to rebuild.

Protected: Moron Monday (#236/365)

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Blog365, Friends / Family, Frustration, School

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Visiting the Vet (#216/365)

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Blog365, Frustration

So, last week when I went to pick up the flea treatments for the two kitties (who are both VERY pleased with me, by the way!), I checked with the Vet to see if Willow D. Kitten was old enough to get his shots, now. When we first acquired him, he was too young to receive them, because his body would have just rejected them. I also knew I had a credit on the account from the last visit, because I had paid in advance for certain things to be done (and the person who gave us the kitten also paid in advance for certain other things).

I asked about the credit, and what it would cover, and what shots the kitten would need. I was told he would receive a rabies & other vaccines, and he would be tested for feline leukemia & other diseases, and the total would be XX amount of dollars. I had four dollars MORE than that in my account, so I set up the appointment.

Yesterday, I rushed home from a short job just in time to pick up Willow D. Kitten and scoop him into his kennel and rush him to the local animal hospital, where his Vet works. We got inside, and he was scratching at the kennel like crazy to get out, so I scooped him up and cuddled him. He looked around a bit, then lay his head down on my arm and just relaxed. There were no other animals in the waiting room, nor were there any in the exam rooms ready to come out.

Suddenly, he started hissing. I leaned forward to open his kennel, and he swatted at my face, getting his claw stuck in my lip. He freaked out, continued hissing, and kept jerking his paw - the claw still attached to my lip. My eyes teared up, but I grabbed his paw firmly and pressed on his pad, while trying to speak calmly to him and settle him down. I set him back in his kennel (I wanted to toss the lil shit - I was bleeding all over the place), and grabbed a tissue to clean myself up.

I have NO IDEA what set him off - nobody was in the waiting room, no animals were present. I think he just caught a sniff of something he didn’t like, poor thing (little friggin devil).

We get into the exam room, and I set his kennel on the table, warning the tech that he’s a little feisty and I am unsure what exactly is the cause of his distress. She said no problem, she would pull him out of the kennel and put him on the exam table so if he got more upset, they wouldn’t have to reach into the kennel to get him out - thereby putting their hands at risk of being sliced open 500 times. She reached in, and he came out just fine, so she closed the kennel and reached over to pet him.

He started hissing and spitting again, and backed away from her, calming down only when he heard my voice as I spoke to him in low tones. He looked at me a minute, then lay his head down on his paws and waited for whatever was next. The tech laughed it off, then was able to pet him. As soon as she tried to pick him up by the scruff, he spazzed out again, and she set him down, looked at me, and said to just let him be for a few minutes til the vet was ready.

The Vet came in about ten minutes later, and Willow D. Kitten and I had been playing with a crumpled up piece of paper and a hair tie, so he was relatively calm. She was able to check over his body, his paws, his eyes, and the inside of his mouth without incident. Then, she tried to lay him down to find his vein, and he started screaming.

Yes, SCREAMING! He sounded like a child in intense pain (later, the front desk personnel and two of the other customers said they thought someone had been attacked by one of the aggressive dogs or had fallen and broken a bone). He screamed each time she touched him, and fought her off like he was a trained boxer with claws.

I grabbed his blanket out of his kennel, threw it on top of him, and scooped him up. I let him pop his head out, but not get loose. As soon as he stopped screaming, and was only meowing, I put him back on the table - with the blanket - for them to try again. The vet grabbed his four paws and held him down, relinquishing one paw to the tech, who had to pull it open to find the vein. Willow D. Kitten was screaming the whole time, fighting, scratching the hell out of them, and managing to get away over and over again.

Finally, the tech threw the blanket over him, muscled him into position, and the vet drew the blood for the test. I was in tears by this point, and Willow D. Kitten did not stop screaming until they put him down and stepped away. The Vet explained we had a ten-minute wait, and then they could give him his shots if he was healthy.

Another ten minutes go by, I find out my baby is healthy as healthy can be, and they have a syringe with medicine they need to give him to deworm him. I crack up, because they’re worried about him taking it. I open his mouth, squirt in the liquid, and he licks it all up. No problem there - he’s been fed medicine before, for his respiratory issues (because he wasn’t nursed by his momma, he had a few issues when I first got him - they’ve all worked out as he ages though).

Now, for the tough part. They have to give him his shot. While this does need to be given in one of his legs, at least they do not need the vein this time. The vet muscles him down in about 3 seconds, Willow D. Kitten starts screaming, and just like that - they’re done. WHEW!

He continued to scream for a moment, to make sure they weren’t going to grab him again. Once he realized they were really done, he stood looking at his kennel door. I opened it up, he went inside, I arranged his blanket, he curled up and went to sleep.

I was still in tears, I felt so awful for him. Talk about a stressful Vet visit!

Not one of my other cats has EVER caused a ruckus like this. If I have to go through this every few months, I am going to need a new heart!

Anyway … as we checked out, I was told I owed XX amount of dollars, after my credit. I didn’t understand why the person last week had told me I would be covered, but now suddenly I owe this much money. I was quite upset - especially when they said, “Oh, and you need to return in 3 weeks for a booster. It’ll also be XX amount of dollars.”

What the fuck? Why didn’t they just tell me that before? Now, not only did I spend money yesterday, but that money is going to go to waste because I do *not* have the funds right now to get the booster. I *might* have them within a couple of months, but that might also be too late. I am quite annoyed.

Asi es la vida. If I can manage to afford the booster, I will. If not, I’ll wait a couple of months and start over. They really need to be up front and tell you EVERYTHING you’ll need to pay for within the first few weeks and let you know when your next exam/shots/whatever will be coming up, so when you prepare for one you can start preparing for the other, yanno?

So - this was why I was grumpy and frustrated yesterday. I think the $$ thing would not have been nearly so upsetting if Willow D. Kitten hadn’t been so horrifically terrified during his appointment.

When we got home, Willow D. Kitten ran straight to Rascal Lee Kitten, who hovered over him and glared at me (quite unnecessarily, thank you - I felt awful enough!) like I was the one sticking needles into the little guy.

Jeezman, I cannot catch a break from the Kitten clan!

xoxo

Monday Mishaps (#215/365)

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Blog365, Frustration

I SWEAR my life is a comedy of errors.

Today, I could only work for about 3.5 hours. I had to make sure I got home in time to pick up Willow D. Kitten to take him to the vet to get his shots and get tested for feline leukemia. In the first 3 hours, I managed to paint two full walls, two hallway walls, three partial kitchen walls, and two partial bathroom walls. Not bad, considering all the cutting in around stuff that needed to be done.

I wanted to spend my last 20 minutes working on the white semigloss trim on the baseboards and ceiling trim (the word escapes me right now, tho I’ve said it 5 billion times - including at least 10 times on Thursday/Friday of last week). I grabbed the can of semigloss, went over to where the front door was, and started painting. I opened the door to see if I could paint the door trim without causing the door to stick, and slipped on something greasy on the floor. I landed ~hard~ on my ass, and the white semigloss went EVERYWHERE: the brown front door, the tile floor, two of the walls I’d just painted a yellowish color last week, the ceiling, the glass door, the cabinets, the counter … and on my arms and my face and in my eyes.

Holy HELL paint burns.

HOLY HELL was I frantically cleaning it up before it dried anywhere and made more of a mess!

I need a do-over on this morning, please!

Off to the vet I go.

xo

Saturday Sillies (#207/365)

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Blog365, Frustration, Goodness

Last night, I had nightmare after nightmare, and couldn’t seem to sleep properly. Some were re-living things that had happened in my past. Others were nightmares about the impossible.

I woke up feeling cloudy, distressed, and had no idea why. I stumbled out into the still-dark living room, and screamed at the top of my lungs when I saw a coil in the floor, poised and ready to strike. I leapt backwards, screamed out “Aidan! Get this fucking snake out of the house!” and flipped on a light.

When the light filled the room, I realized
A) It is *not* 1994 …
B) The ’snake’ was Willow D. Kitten, curled up in a ball, his tail propped up on the glass he’d obviously been sneaking a drink out of when it fell to the ground.

Despite the fact I was alone, had no audience, and was fairly certain nobody had to know what had just happened, I was blushing beet red and laughing my ass off at the same time.

I wonder if Aidan’s ears were burning? If so, I hope he knows, as much as I love him… I’m gonna kick his everloving ass for entering in my nightmares. Ex-boyfriends are supposed to play nice in dreams, dammit, and we’re only supposed to remember the *good* things.

** Disclaimer: this nightmare of mine is based on a true story, when I *did* nearly step on the little poisonous snake my then-boyfriend Aidan had sworn could *not* get out of the fish tank because he’d stacked a dozen porn magazines on top. Aidan was wrong. I was not a happy camper. The snake immediately found a new home.

** Disclaimer 2: I like snakes, I think they are fascinating and beautiful, and I love holding the really really really big ones … the little ones? They scare the bejeezus outta me.

Protected: Devyl’s Eyes Only.

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Frustration

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Protected: Facing Forward (#201/365) [email angeleyesw@gmail.com for pass]

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Blog365, Friends / Family, Frustration

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Protected: Lying Friends (#199/365) [ Req. password at angeleyesw@gmail.com]

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Blog365, Friends / Family, Frustration

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Just a Quickie (#193/365)

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Baby S, Blog365, Frustration

Baby S had a super-rough night last night - each time I settled down to sleep, she’d wake up screaming bloody murder. I walked around with her for hours on end, and then finally settled down onto the couch … but she wouldn’t let me sit still for more than 20 minutes without waking up crying again.

I think this may have been her last big fight, though. Tonight will be easier, I hope.

B’s mom was brought out of ICU yesterday. Today, though, she goes in for a scope. We hope they find she had bleeding ulcers: she’s already battled cancer and annyeurisms twice (on both counts). We do not want her to have to endure anything remotely similar. I’ll report back tomorrow with the word!

Tonight, Lil K is spending the night with Lil Lady and I. It will be Lil K’s first night away from home without Mom & Dad. She’s been reminding me for the last week that it is her turn next (her older siblings both already had turns spending the night at my house), and I am sure she is going to love every minute of it!

Have a wonderful day, all!!

Protected: Worried (#182/365)

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Blog365, Friends / Family, Frustration

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June Blues (#176/365)

Author: Devyl Gyrl / Category: Blog365, Friends / Family, Frustration, Social Networking

Much like March, June is *not* a good month for me, for my family. I try to make the best of the month, because it is my daughter’s birthday month. But all month long, I see the 29th looming down on me. Despite the fact it is also my niece’s birthday, the 29th is the hardest day of the year for me … the anniversary of my brother’s death. (More on that here and here.) It is also my (Step)Mother’s birthday month - just a couple of days prior to Lil Lady’s. While I do get sad on her birthday, it is not nearly as sad for me as Steven’s days.

Funny, how I never see the sadness sneaking up on my until it is full-on depression. Funny how I spend weeks fretting, feeling disturbed, and unable to properly function before I realize what the problem stems down to, *really.*

You would think that in the last 9 years, I would get better at this, or it would get easier. For some reason, I do not think it has. This year, the sadness about my brother is coupled with stress from other things, and anger at not being able to do something I had carefully planned for myself & my health.

I may or may not be mostly absent until after the 4th of July (the anniversary of when we spread his ashes). I am not burying my head in the sand, but I am attempting to minimalize anymore damage I may do to online friendships with people I love and respect. I have already damaged a couple, and it is far easier for me to disappear for a few weeks, and send ping’d photos/messages, than to create anymore drama or damage.

We all know my moods change quickly, and I could be feeling better tomorrow or in a few days. If so, I’ll be back to my social networking. If not, I *will* be back soon.

Those of you who have alternate avenues of communication, feel free to use them. Those of you who wish to contact me, may do so by email: angeleyesw@gmail.com. This is an “alternate” email address, so please do not “correct” it in my comments. :)

I hope ALL of you are having a great summer, and enjoying some down-time. It is hotter than hell around here, but we are enjoying it nonetheless.

xoxox