I’m pretty sure it’s not secret to any of you that I am in a time of great upheaval right now. Things are just…rough. They’ll get better, but right now they just suck, and that’s how it is. So, you’d think I’d be turning my attention to funny stuff: light-hearted flicks, fluff books and just such as this. And, really, I would have. Except that I promised to review this book, Irreplaceable, before the poop hit the fan, and I got sprayed with all that foul smelling stuff.

They sayOk, I say that a well written book can pull you out of yourself, teach you something about life. I fought myself to read this one because it is a very painful story. Seriously, it begins and ends painfully and the entire middle is full of pain. But that’s just the way life is sometimes, and even in the midst of the pain, the story is beautiful, both in life and in this book. Life is beautiful, even when it hurts, because it is life. And this book is beautiful because it speaks a truth even though it is fiction.

Irreplaceable is well written, the characters are fully formed, very human, and the events are realistic, even in their unfathomableness. On the surface, it’s the story of an organ donor and what happens to her heart, but that short description doesn’t do the book justice. It is intensely emotional, and I cried when I read the last sentence: that’s just how they say hello. That one line sealed the book for me, because I actually have a leave taking ritual with a friend of mine–something we’ve never discussed, and I’m not even sure they know it exists, but it does for me, and that’s how I know Stephen Lovely is writing from a heart that understands motivations and desires and can adequately portray that in words that paint pictures for the mind. Irreplaceable is his first novel, and I’ll be looking to see what he writes next.

Oops, I had a hard time finding this one, becasue the date on it is the 20th! Nonetheless, I took it before I went to bed to symbolize the 19th. It was on this day that I pulled out some of my old cassette tapes and rocked out in the kitchen while reading magazines and waiting on a visitor. It was awesome: Pretty Woman plus Patsy Cline = one happy, dancing Cass.

Talk about falling off the face of the earth, huh? It’s a horribly long and wrong story that I do not even wish to get into tonight. Not even. Instead, I want to talk about watches.

Instead, I want to talk about the Orient watches at Kenmar Watches. You know I picked this one because it is pink, right? Yes, that is too pink. It’s a magenta-ish dark pink. Isn’t it gorgeous? For a man’s watch, I mean?

If that doesn’t appeal, Kenmar has plenty more. Did you know New Balance makes watches? Me either, I thought they just did shoes! The most fun thing about Kenmar watches, though, is the search feature, because you can type “pink” in that search box (like I did), and you will get seventeen pages of results. Seventeen, people. Please excuse me, I have some, ummm, research to do. Like sixteen more pages worth!

And then I need to post some project 365 stuff. I actually took a picture of GuitarGuy yesterday, and he is practically panting to see himself on the internets. HA!

A couple of months ago, I told one of my sons that he could read a book off our bookshelf. Umm, that sounds weird. I mean he asked if he could read a book of “this shelf”, and I said yes, any shelf “over there”. It was quiet time, and I was trying to work, so I just needed him to pick a book already, any book! Read!

Anyway, he picked a book, and read it for a bout three seconds before he called out, “hey, what’s this paper?”

Well, that paper happened to be a check that my aunt had written for my cousin’s youth council dues, way back in the day. My cousin and I had served on Youth Council together in high school, and although I can no longer remember the purpose and function of the program, I do remember that we had a lot of fun going all the way to the county seat for the monthly meetings.

Can you see the huge amount of the dues? Here is a close-up:

Yeah, a whopping $5. Can you name an extra curricular activity today that costs just five bucks?

And here is another thing. My kids have never met this cousin. We were tight as tight could be all through high school, and then we had a fight one day, and never made it right, and haven’t really spoken since. Actually, that’s not even true. What really happened is that she spoke a word of truth to me that I wasn’t ready to hear, and I quit talking to her. And by the time I realized several years later that she was saying something I should hear, it was too late. I called her a while back, and she was convinced that I must want something. Of course, there was quite a bit of stuff going on in our extended family at the time, but I had no ulterior motive with my call. I just wanted to say hello.

And one more thing. I keep this picture in my bedroom. I bought it only because it looks so much like my cousin. Love you, Shirley. Miss you, still!

Wow. You know, if you spend any time at all watching the news, it sounds like a dog eat dog world out there, where no one ever helps anyone else. personally, I don’t watch the news very often for that very reason. Well, that and the fact that what I hear about Iraq is completely the opposite of what I hear from those who have actually served over there. But I digress, and we’ll have to talk about that another day.

Fortunately, the world is in much better shape that the newscasters would have us believe, and here is an example. One of the members over at the Immortality Institute has been diagnosed with cancer. Now, that’s a bad thing, and it’s a pretty serious bad thing, as I am sure you know. But here’s the deal–his online friends are coming together to help him buy the supplememts that he thinks will save his life! You can read about it on the resveratrol forum.

Now, I don’t want to debate the ideology of these folks, or even alternative medicine. I just want to point out that some people some where are still doing the right thing just because it is the right thing to do. Brian, Charles and Katie ought to talk about stuff like this a little more and murder and mayhem a little less. Just sayin’

That’s what it is, time to blog. After all, a girl can’t stay away on vakay forever, now can she? No, she cannot. You’ll notice that I said part one up there in the title. I don’t know how far I will get tonight, but I though I might begin to tell ya’ll where I have been. Before I do that, I want to take a minute to mention a fairly local business.

We have a lot of what I like to call local celebrities around here. I’m sure you know exactly what I mean–folks or businesses that all the folks you normally associate with IRL know, but that if you step outside your comfort zone may not be so well known. Around here, we have Paul’s Place for hot dogs (known for at least 50 miles in every direction) and we have the two men who were mayor of the two cities I spend my time in for more years than I can count, but who were recently “replaced” by those of a more northern persuasion (insert eye roll).

And then we have businesses that are aiming to make a name for themselves far beyond the immediate area. Bruce Cavenaugh is one such entity, and I say entity, because that name belongs to both a person and business. Bruce Cavenaugh (the business) wants to be known as the place to go for used cars Wilmington, NC. With the price of gas these days, and the need many people have to move into smaller vehicles, it can actually make sense to travel a couple of hundred miles to get a sweet deal on a good used car. And that’s a fine reason to come see Bruce and his cars, but there’s another one that’s maybe even more compelling to me lately: in a day when I can hardly drive from point a to point b without running over 48-11 yankees, Bruce Cavenaugh (the person) has one major advantage over the competition. He’s a native, and he still sounds like it. Just click the link to hear a short clip and hear for yourself.

Okay, it’s time to get started with the updates, but I will let that be another post. I think we can safely go back to the 11th-ish of June and go from there. Relax, it won’t be a post per day, LOL!

I have been a fan of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries since I read my first (highly abridged) when I was about 8. It was Hound of the Baskervilles, in one of those little squareish Treasured Classics that they sell for children. I was amazed as a young teen to reacquaint myself with Holmes and Watson when I received a copy of the complete series, a book I still have, mind you.

Today, though, I am not going to talk about a book. Instead, I am going to tell you about a new game! The Lost Cases of Sherlock Holmes contains 16 cases, plus a bonus. The game is suitable for ages 10 and up, being mostly based on hidden objects and other visual discrimination games. The historically accurate settings and characters are lots of fun as well. It was a relaxing few minutes, and although I beat the game and solved the case before the time expired, it was a little closer than I’d like to admit. Who knew tulips could blend so well into their surroundings??!!??

I’m intrigued enough to play again, and I imagine from the chorus of oohs and ahs that were coming from my elbow that I will be coerced into sharing my computer so that others can enjoy the game as well. I’m sorely tempted to re-open the game and try another case or eight, but I’ve been promising my kids a grand camping adventure for Memorial Day for six weeks now. It’s time to go pitch a tent. Well, two tents, we’re a big family, LOL!

That would be my dogwood. I’ve been holding out hope, but now it is the middle of May, all the other tress are green, and yet the dogwood is not only not green, but it is also dry and brittle. Remember I told you I transplanted 2 trees last year, at the wrong time of year? Well, they both actually died, but the root ball lived on the one, so I have saplings coming up from it at least. Too bad I don’t know what it is yest, though it does resemble a peach. There are no other peach trees in the neighborhood, not even in my side yard where we dug that one up, though, so who knows.

You know what else? After all the drought, this year we have had heavy rains, and irises “hate to have their feet wet”, and so only a couple of them bloomed. Yep, two years of low bloom from the drought, followed by a year of no blooming because of too much rain. I just can’t win in the yard. Unlike my Grandmother, who could make anything at all grow. She always had the most beautiful flowers in her yard, right up until she moved out of her house. In fact, Mama has been working in the yard there this week, getting the place ready to rent. (They killed at least two SNAKES! Ugh! But remind me to tell you about AuntF and the snake story one day, it’s a good one.)

Anyway, back to the green, and not so green things in my yard. I saw an ad for <silk plants and it made me stop and think. Most people think of silk plants as an indoor item, but you can use them outside. And you know what? They don’t die if you move them at the wrong time of year, and they bloom right on time, rain or no rain. Bloom right on time. Hahah, I slay me. They come already blooming, and they stay that way, of course. Unlike mine, which apparently come not blooming and stay that way.

Ok, you want to hear the snake story? Fine. I have an Aunt with MS. AuntF is wheelchairbound, and occasionally bedridden, but she does get out and go places, and one of those places is the family reunion, which is where the story I am about to relate began. Now, she also smokes, but she has to wait for someone to light the cigarette for her, and sit with her while she smokes it, in case she drops it. This means that she smoked pretty much nonstop at the family reunion, and AuntF smokes in a style best exemplified by Hollywood, with long fingered graceful movements and a casual nonchalance. SO. We were sitting around last year, and talking, and she starts talking about the time there was a snake at her house, in the drainpipe and she “called Uncle R”. Her “Uncle R” was my Grand-dad, the same one I have spoken of several times on this blog. He happened to be very scared of snakes, which Mama and I knew, but maybe AuntF did not. So she told us that “Uncle R shot the sit out of that drainpipe”. Needless to say, I had vision of Grandad, eyes squeezed shit tight, blasting the side of the house, because yes, indeed, he did the business with a shotgun.

Fast forward 40-50 years, and we’ll wrap up with an event this week. I told you Mama had been working in the flowers at Grandmother’s, and there had been a couple of snakes killed. When she came across the last one (and also, my mother is TERRIFIED of snakes. it’s genetic. We can’t help it.), H was there. H is the grandson of AuntF, and he shot the snake. With a shotgun. And so when Mama told me, as I was laying on the floor doing my belly buster exercises, I just looked at her and said, ‘Well, did he shoot the shit out of that flowerbed border?” and we laughed and laughed and laughed. The rest of my family looked at us like we were insane. It was still funny, and I can’t wait to see AuntF again.