Okay, this template and code is much more me. Blogger does let you edit the HTML of this blog, but HTML has always had me in kind of a vice-grip of ignorance, so this is the best I could do. Hope it looks as good for you as it does for me. If it doesn't, please email me.

Wanted to share my obsession of the day with you. Spent most of it over in history land. Take a tour of your state's postcard history over at History Through Postcards I had a lot of fun sifting through Oregon's history. There were facts as well as pictures, and links to other resources where I could find even MORE stuff. Including a picture of what I think is my Great-Great Grandmother, Bess Hamrick. But I'll have to confirm that with the family historian (which isn't me, yet!). Anyhow, it's a lot of fun.

Rants of the day:

Not having enough information to go to the state tomorrow, as needed. So, guess getting back on there swiftly and in good time is out. It's not really anyone's fault, bad timing all around. I should have read the original warning notices closer. Not sure what to do, so I'm going to go along and fake it and see what happens.

I'm going to attempt to send Matt to school tomorrow. I hope he does all right. I might call and ask to speak to his teacher, however. Another reason to have a car? Impromptu parent/teacher conferences.

Why do I always feel guilty if I'm on the computer "over time" ? I mean, what's it really matter if I'm on longer one day and shorter another? Sometimes, my own wierdness fascinates me.

Final Words:

Yesterday at TC chat we had an interesting assignment about what we would miss if we died. Well, it resulted in an interesting rave about life itself. So, for your pleasure, here it is. Remember it's 15 unedited minutes of writing, and forgive the mistakes.

What I’ll miss when I die, and another 15 minutes. Well, Theryn, you know, I’m sure this is a fine thing for most of the others, but with my Gran so near death, it’s horrible for me. I don’t like it, not one bit. I don’t want to think about death any more than I have to, much less my own. So I don’t think I will. Instead, I took a minute to fix some of the spelling errors above. Oh, fine, I’ll attempt it. 15 stupid minutes. I don’t know what to say about it for 15 minutes.

I’m too materialistic, and I’ll miss everything. It’s not even a stretch for me. My books, my kids, my DH, the computer, name it. There’s nothing I won’t miss. Of course, this kind of assumes that you’ll be aware enough to miss things. After visiting my Gran, I don’t think that’s possible. I doubt she’ll miss a thing. She’s just gonna be waiting there.

And besides, who knows, maybe you CAN take it with you. Since everything is a spirit, why not be able to take the spirit or shade of the items you love? Remember that part in Ghostbusters, where the floating librarian was putting away ghostly books? See, she had a shadow memory of a book with her. That’s what I think. That’d be cool. If you got to take all the spirits and shadows of everything with you.

My reality, of course, is that you go zooming off and one of two things happen, you are reincarnated and sent back down to learn the lessons you messed up, or you rejoin the cosmic consciousness and impart your wisdom and become one with the mire and muck that is the well of life and the beauty of creation. Like that Gaia thing last night. The spirit of the earth, that which binds the universe and holds it together, the force. Okay, that’s all very Star Wars, but hey, that’s what speaks to me. And who the heck knows anyhow? Nobody. So how can my ideas be wrong? Well, they can’t, no matter what anyone says. Not one person has any more shreds of proof than I do, so I’m not wrong. Of course, reality is what we all make it, as is heaven. So, perhaps Gran will go up to heaven in her mind, and remain there with Grandpa, sitting in their living room watching Jeopardy forever, and golf, and Wheel. Who’s to say.

Anyhow, I doubt there’s a way to say what I’d miss. Who’s to say I will miss it? I mean, in that movie, Bruce Willis could touch everything he came in contact with, couldn’t he? The floors, the walls, the doors, the tables and chairs, his sweater? See, everyone assumes you die with clothes on too, I wonder why that is. Just propriety, most likely. I’d assume you’d go out as naked as you came in. Of course, this is why there’s the whole “you can’t take it with you” thing, cause your clothes remain behind. But if the ghost then “sees” themselves as in those clothes, why not have their books or toys? Shadows of them, anyhow? Yeah, it makes sense to me, anyhow. But I’m a big odd ball freak, really.

Man, there is still like 2minutes to go on this thing. And I even stopped, paused, and did a bunch of correcting. God, I type a lot. Fast. So, anyhow…this was a fun topic, once I got past Gran. I still don’t like it much. Typing about death when you are already surrounded by death just depresses you. The third topic better be about something else. Something less “real”, I hope. Of course, Theryn is a literary fiction woman, so I doubt it. But hey, I didn’t have to come up with the exercises, either. Although I’m kind of the co-host, she didn’t ask me to. And I’m not gonna complain. It seems hard.

See you again soon. ;)

Deo