Pictures from Oklahoma & Texas, Labor Day weekend, 2007

15 countries... click to enlarge.



I don't remember reading anywhere how the Revolution would be global, but I guess that real freedom does that.

I try to keep political names off my blog... but, well, today I am gonna do it:

Ron Paul is the only candidate who has stated he would stop ALL foreign 'aid' to other countries, which is why I'm voting for him. This video explains why we should NOT be getting involved in any other country's disputes via 'aid' of any kind:




Ron Paul also would bring our troops home immediately, and not just from Iraq... from everywhere. Enough is enough. End the nation building. Stop our 'leaders' from helping out BIG BUSINESSES with government-leader-ties from profitting under the guise of trying to force-feed 'democracy' to other nations... all in the name of the United States of America, which means each of us, as citizens, is responsible for what happens in the Presidential Election of 2008.

Register as a Republican, vote for Ron Paul in the Primaries, in Massachusetts the primaries are on March 4th of 2008. Please... don't let our leaders do this anymore. Ron Paul has global support... people from other countries are crying out to us, appealing to us to elect this man in order to be the beacon of hope we once were for the world:



This is the first time in a long, long time that we're being given such a golden opportunity to take our country back with a man who has a superb record as a congressman. www.ronpaul2008.com

Since my father's death in February of this year, there haven't been many moments where thinking about him and his great spirit for life didn't make me hurt in my heart so painfully for his loss of life and with a personal missing of him so much that it feels like I could die on the spot. My sadness for him, loss off his own life and my loss of him in my life have been equal in the heartache... that's been one of the worst parts of this. And I don't just miss him being in my life, I miss him being in anybody's life. Just being able to do his own thing in life. I get so angry when I think about him not being able to just.. be alive. My own words said to him come back to me "I feel like you got ripped off years of your life, dad." And his reply: "I did."

But maybe he still is doing his own thing, and is still in everybody's life, in inspiration and with honor, in his death? I'm really beginning to think that.

Yesterday, my father's spirit was with me all day, during the filming of a music video, and it was a peaceful, playful, wonderful remembering of him with no pain in my heart or mind at all. How this was achieved is probably going to sound whacky and surreal to some folks, but others, who know me and who knew my dad's love of independent film-making, will understand (although even they will view the result as whacky and surreal, too! hahaha...)

I've been trying to piece life back together, like a gigantic puzzle, with pieces of my life missing without my father here. I stopped doing so many things that I previously found joy in (cribbage tournaments, geocaching, Scrabble tournaments), and have found myself replacing those things in an attempt to revive my own spirit and build up strength so that at some point I can get back to doing the things I love to do. I don't know why it has taken so long... but I am getting stronger and with that strength a closeness to my father's spirit.

So a few days ago a good friend asks me if I'll be in his music video. He says he knows how busy I am, but if I can just dress up like Greta Garbo and run through the woods with a guy in a gorilla suit for a couple of hours while he films... as he types this out to me in text on instant-messenger, I'm not thinking 'how weird', as I've asked people to do nutty things myself for film, including my dad (who also said yes!)

I swear I heard my dad's voice saying "this is going to be fun, do this."

And then my friend asks me if I know of any woods where we can film, so, with my dad's voice putting in his own input, I type back in reply "there's woods behind my dad's house we can use."

And so, yesterday afternoon, after a Sunday dinner at the farm, and after helping my grandpa with a puzzle, and after a nice rocking-chair chat on the front porch with a kind family friend, I head to my dad's house for the film shoot.

My dad was there with us, having a grand ol' time... he loved this kind of thing. His house was once again filled with excitement and happiness and joy for life and living. And laughter. His electrical outlets charged up the video laptop camera, and we all ran around the woods behind his house and sat at his picnic table having a fantastic political debate and discussion for half an hour (because midway through filming, the battery died.)

I didn't miss my father yesterday, because he was right there with us! I explained this to my music-video creating friend, which led him to saying that he was going to dedicate the music video to my dad. Normally, that kind of thing makes me cry, when folks say stuff like that, but as my dad was with us, humbly just nodding his head and saying 'thank you', getting to be a part of the process of life even in death, I didn't cry at all... I felt so happy for my dad.

I hadn't hung out with my dad in so long, but yesterday it really felt like I did. I know technically I didn't, but it sure as heck feels in my mind and heart that yesterday was the day I last spent time with my father. I didn't see him aside from inside my own mind, in memory, it wasn't like I literally saw a ghost or anything, it was just hanging out with my dad, in spirit. Just making a music video with my dad, with me dressed like Greta Garbo, a guy in a gorilla suit, and the filming guy dressed up as a reporter. I haven't felt this at peace since December of 2006.

And I know now that it's possible to not have to miss my dad with a broken heart, as anytime I am doing things in life that he loves to do, too, he'll be right there with me. And it won't be sad, it will be great, because that's how I can spend time with my dad still, and how he can hang out with me, too! I think I'm going to go to the cribbage tournament this Wednesday. And geocaching with KC on Sunday, because we haven't gone yet this summer.

Here's the video... thank you, Danny, for helping me cope:

This is Mrs. Smith. She lives next door to my dad's house and is in her 90s. She has a garden and often wears her hair in braids. She knows a lot about plants and her gardens always thrive under her care. She is never in a rush. She says the air quality has gotten really bad over the years. She has a strong, centered, female voice. She smiles warmly whenever you wave hello.

That's pretty much all I know about her, and I've known her for 27 years.

Yet, she is one of my favorite people in the world, an inspiration to me. I gave her most of my dad's gardening stuff. She was so happy when I asked to take her picture. I let her know I hope to be just like her when I grow up, including the long hair in braids part. Especially the long hair in braids part, actually.

And the thriving garden. My own garden this year is the suck. Probably the only good part about my garden is the irony of my conversation the day this picture of Mrs. Smith was taken. Mrs. Smith told me all about Queen Anne's Lace, a type of flower that is in her garden. As it turns out, my garden this year has a little wild patch of Queen Anne's Lace growing right near where I had my carrots all these years. It's the only flowers in the weedy mess, aside from the strawberry patch flowers that bloomed earlier in the spring.

Today I'm heading to the Summer Street pond with the boys, bringing a book to read but most likely will end up swimming myself for quite a while, too. We leave in an hour or two and pretty much plan to stay until we're all water-logged and raisin-looking, sun bronzed and sandy-pantsed. We'll leave when the mosquitos start biting, I figure.

It is one of the prettiest summer days yet. Hot but not humid, blue sky with a few white clouds, little breezes of gentle wind now and then. Nice.

:O)

Something so cool and full of irony and incredible coincidence happened recently, it almost makes me wonder if it was my dad's way of giving us all a smile.

There were many, many books at my dad's house, and I kept some of them and gave the rest to family. Out of the ones I kept, there was an autographed copy of a book about New Bedford's Acushnet Avenue. My dad had a lot of books about the history of local areas and points of interest, but this one on Acushnet Avenue was special to me because Kenny and I first met on Acushnet Avenue when he bought a booklet of poetry from me - it would be five or six years later before we actually dated and then married, but the initial meeting took place there. Actually, now that I think about it, all 3 (or maybe it's 5...) 'major' relationships in my life actually have an origin of Acushnet Avenue in New Bedford. :stunned at realization:

So anyways, I put all of the books on local areas in the bathroom, so we could actualy read them (often, the only time we have to read books is when we're in the bathroom.) Well, a few weeks ago Kenny got to the Acushnet Avenue book and came outta the bathroom holding it open to a certain page with a picture on it. "This is my grandfather!" he said. I looked at the photo and could see the guy in the picture had a Camille look to him. "We should ask my mom to be sure," he said, so that's what we did this 4th of July at a family gathering, and sure enough, it is Kenny's grandpa (father's side) ! :) It's a picture of the Portuguese Feast, and his paternal grandpa is at the skewer-filled marinated meat section awaiting an order of some of the finest tasting cooking in the WORLD.

So, I'm making a bunch of 8X10 glossies of this picture and sending one out to Ken's dad, and some for local family members. I never got to meet Kenny's grandpa, he was gone before there was a chance, but it's good to have a photo of him, and it's even better that the picture of him comes from a book on the place his grandson and I met. :)

Something about the whole thing just makes me smile. Lightens up my heavy heart in a year that has been the massive, royal suck. The little groovy things that happen along the way keep me sane. Keep me smiling. Keep me hopeful.