You call this Spring in Kansas?

I planted 50 pounds of grass seed yesterday morning. It was a balmy 63 degrees and I was motivated. Bring on the green!
One thing life has taught me, expect the unexpected. Here are three loves of my life showing me how to deal with those irritating little set backs. 

I challenge you to a race!

Catch me if you can!

I win!

Perry likes to play naked with his "Hair Buds" Abby and Fyre

Disclaimer - No animals were hurt or killed during the filming of this event.

The Ritual

The Vow ("revamped" for 2010)

The Vow

A single candle lit

With silent hope, she sits

to face the open window.

Her heart in stomach’s pit.

The night sky black as pitch

Her breath comes with a hitch

Will love come to her within this hour,

Dare she give him this much power?

Her lips still burn from remembered kiss

The passion evokes such sensual bliss

Her mind recounts each tender touch

Desire builds ever much.

Quiet steps across the threshold,

Sultry eyes possessive bold

His face blocks out her memory

of whispered warnings told.

To her he bends his knee

to make a formal bow.

There is no hesitation,

he beckons, the time is now.

Tonight he chose eternity

For her to be his mate

A single bite upon his neck

Will seal him to an immortal fate.

A vampire's love is timeless

She whispers in his ear

I shall love you forever,

she vows through scarlet tears.

© Diana 2010

A Poem for Jim

Photo Courtesy by Jim Mihalek

The Great Adventure - © Diana 2010


Here's to the train whistle
blowing an exultant song.
To steel horse sound as it races along.
Plays a symphony of clackety-clacks
a tune to be heard near the railroad tracks.

Here's to two brothers
renewing a familial bond.
To great adventures,
treasured memories
though boyhood's long gone.

Here’s to two men
cameras loaded, maps firmly in hand.
The truck’s rubber wheels bounce along
dirt roads, covering miles of Midwestern land
chasing trains, it’s their annual plan.

Here’s to seven days
An extraordinary week
Clicking pictures where the Monon
crosses NYC Belt of Kankakee
The Wabash and Ohio, it’s what they seek.

Here’s to two boys
inside the bodies of men,
chasing trains along the rails
straight out of South Bend
down to Ft Wayne, Indiana and daylight’s end.

Here’s to visions of masked robbers
and the Pinkerton, too
as the train rushes past
Lima, which isn’t near Peru,
to Dayton and Bellevue, it barrels on through.

Here’s to their lives and the sharing of dreams.
Through the eye of a camera lens
History is made in every shot that is gained
A story of brothers, to Dennis and James
And to their great passion, a passion for trains.

Lack of Comments leads to Choices

Received a 2nd email to inform me that someone wanted to leave a comment and ran into technical difficulties.
Puzzled, I decided to investigate the why of it.  Sure enough, there was the reason under "Settings, Comments".  
I have corrected the issue, and now my Readers....comment away!

While troubleshooting the "Comment Crisis", I made a discovery.  The choices available for a personal blog site's settings are extensive!

Which brings me to today's topic.....Choices. 

Here in the United States, the average human has the opportunity to make a multitude of choices on any given day. 

There are times I think I'll go mad during a particularly difficult decision-making process. 

Here's just a few examples of choices I made during one evening in my life.

The first choice, eat at home or go out. I select eating out, because I don't feel like cooking.

Of course, if I wanted to mimic Emeril, that act would require a trip to the grocery store, where I would be faced with another assortment of culinary choices. 

I may not have mentioned this before, but I find grocery shopping to be an overwhelming task.  It would be so much better if I could just make a list and send someone else to do the purchasing, and hence, simplify my life. Wahoo! 

But I digress....

I have made the choice to eat dinner out and am glad that I still have on my work clothes and tonight I can avoid making the decision of what to wear. 

Living in a small city provides a bevy of fast food restaurants, chain-style restaurants, and a few fine-dining establishments.  I query my taste buds with "What sounds tempting?" 

After much deliberation, I choose a chain restaurant. I have enjoyed their service and fare on prior occasions.

I choose city streets instead of the Interstate to travel to the west side of town. My reasoning is there's still some daylight left and I'm not in that big a hurry.  Being an inquisitive creature, I like to see if anything new has changed along the route since my last excursion in that direction.

I arrive at the restaurant in one piece, my nerves only slightly frayed by no less than three (3) close encounters with drivers intent on commiting vehicular (wo)manslaughter.  They were definitely not making good choices inside their "death-mobiles".

Settling into my table by a window, I just begin to relax when a darling young waiter brings me the "new and improved" menu and rattles off the specials for the evening and then asks what I would like to drink. Being a responsible adult and knowing that I will have to drive home, I settle for Iced Tea, although the thoughts of downing several "Chocolate Cake" shots does hold a euphoric appeal. But no, Iced Tea will have to do.

Besides the specials, the menu offers five (5) pages of savory sounding taste sensations with several photoshop-enhanced pictures on every glossy page.  My brain sounds the "overload" alarm and begins it's shut-down sequence.

I must choose rapidly and fallback to an item I have selected in the past, small Ceasar salad, a half-rack of Baby Back Ribs and Sweet Potato Fries.  I am not able to decide, so request Ranch and Honey Mustard dip for the fries.

Mental-note to self...the next time I venture out, I must at least make an effort to try something new.

Fortunately, I'm satisfied with the choice I made and spend the next 30 minutes relishing that decision.  As my plate begins to empty and my waistline expands to full capacity, the waiter again approaches my table to ask if I would like desert and whips open the Desert Menu.

Digitally altered pictures of Fudge Decadence, Cherries Jubilee, Lemon Merengue again assault my senses, but this time, my choice is easy.....a firm "No thank-you, I'm stuffed!"

Due to my tiredness, I head home after dinner, where I immediately shed the binding work attire and slip into more comfortable lounge wear (ie. - old sweats).  

Heading back downstairs, I stop by the kitchen to select a few dog biscuits (treats for the dogs, not for me), prior to the dogs and I retiring to the library.

Snap decision...I flip on the TV and my Netflix-capable Blu-Ray player,

instead of another fun-filled round of World of Warcraft,

and then settle into my leather recliner. 

This decision adds to additional choices.  I look at the dogs and ask, "What shall we watch tonight? "Must Love Dogs" or "Hotel for Dogs" or maybe a scary one like "101 Dalmations"?"

They are happy to put the burden on me and allow me to choose. Dogs have that perogative!

I pick the love story.

Suddenly I'm struck with a craving for one of my small addictions.

I decide I'd like a small coffee while we watch the movie. I've done this to myself...again there are choices. I have Chocolate Raspberry, Caramel Machiatto, Creme Brulee, or just plain with a little cream and sugar.

So there you have it, just a small sampling of my evening's choices and those are the easy ones.  

But at the end of the day, even though I complain about having so many choices in life, truth be told, I'm really glad to have them available to me. It keeps life from becoming dull.  

Choosing the right name

This is my new dog. His name is Windfall's Party Favor. He's an 11 month old Whippet that has been called "Popper". Generally, a call name sticks, but this time I have a problem. I already have a dog named "Poppy". She has been "Poppy" three years longer than he has been "Popper", therefore he will be given a new moniker.

I'm going to call the Whippet..."Perry". I know it's an odd name for a dog, but allow me to tell you a story and my reason will be revealed....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A long, long time ago, there was a little girl that moved with her family to a tropical island, far, far away.


Moving can be exciting, but being the "new kid" at school can come with its own set of challenges, especially to a 7th grader.

 On the first day at her new school, she was asked to stand up, introduce herself, tell the class a little about herself and where she had lived prior to her arrival on the island.
She always hated this part of "first day". It happened every time she arrived after the school year had begun, weeks, and in this case, months earlier, when everyone in class already knew each other. Her classmates would all turn in their chairs to stare, every eye directed towards her...judging, weighing and finding her wanting.
"Stop it!" she scolded herself, "Don't let your imagination make you see monsters where they don't exist."


She steeled her nerves, forced the butterflies to quit beating their wings against the inside of her stomach and rose from her chair. She took a surreptitious glance around the classroom and felt her heart plummet by what she saw. In order to keep her courage up, she turned her full attention back to the teacher and then, imagining that she was wearing large, leather horse blinders, blocked out everyone on either side of her, allowing only the teacher's image, standing behind the podium at the front of the class to fill her vision.


With a voice that belied her nervousness, she spoke clearly for all to hear, "Hello, my name is Diana and I moved here from...."


Before she could continue, a voice interrupted from the back of the room, drawling, "Hey girl, why don' ya stands up so's we kin all sees ya?"


Instantly, she felt her face begin to burn, knowing that everyone would see the bright scarlet color rushing up her neck and flooding her cheeks. Flushing hotter still, as the other children joined in to laugh at her shame.
What she had realized during the quick survey of her classmates and now had been brought to everyone's attention by a single question, was how tiny she was in stature compared to the rest of the 7th graders.

"Why does this always happen to me? I must not cry! I will not!" she thought angrily. It was a struggle to control her emotions and not let the self-hatred consume her, as once again she was the brunt of ridicule at being the smallest child in the classroom. She was often mistaken for a 4th grader, even by the teachers, which she found utterly humiliating.
She stood there, biting her lower lip and looking down at her shoes, wishing fervently that she could shrink enough to be able to crawl into the paper sack that held her lunch, while time seemed to stand still.


The peels of laughter filled her ears, seeming to go on forever, but in reality less than a minute had passed, when something unexpected happened. The teacher began to make shushing sounds and at the same instant, a tall, slender boy sitting at the desk next to Diana's suddenly stood up, turned towards the back of the room and said loudly, "Don't listen to him, Diana. That's Mickey, the class idiot. He has the IQ of an amoeba and this is his 2nd time in 7th grade."


That caused another burst of laughter from the class as Mickey spluttered in indignation, "I ain't an idiot! An so what... at least I'll git a driver's license 'fore you, Bing-ham-hock."


As Mickey's last word left his lips, the teacher slammed a heavy yardstick down on her desk, making a loud cracking sound, startling everyone into silence.
With a voice that carries as only a teacher's can, she commanded, "That is enough! One more outburst and some of you will be taking a trip to the Principal's office."

Mouths snapped shut as the threat sunk home. No one dared to even breath for fear of being sent to the dreaded Mrs. "Give You Heck" Peck. Everyone knew that the school principal had signed permission slips from all parents giving her authority to discipline their offspring, if the need arose. No amount of explaining on the part of the student would remove the guilty sentence, as the act of being sent to her office was all the condemnation required for punishment to be rendered.


The punishment came in the form of a Ping-Pong paddle with several holes drilled in it, thus preventing wind drag slowing its speed on descent. The offender would hear the wind whistling through those holes just prior to the violent impact with their tender bottom. No amount of clothing would prevent the wasp-like sting of pain her weapon of choice inflicted.


The teacher's voice broke the silence, though the scent of fear still hung palpable in the air...."Perry Bingham, please take your seat and now, Diana, would you please continue."


The boy next to Diana, took his seat, looked over at her and gave her a wink. She couldn't help herself; she grinned, and was able to finish what she had begun, "Before moving here, I lived in Kuwait." Diana saw the teacher nod, indicating that she should continue, so she explained, "That's a desert land in the Middle East, next to Saudi Arabia and along the Persian Gulf."


That made classmates raise their hands to ask, "Did you ride camels?", "Does it ever rain?", "How hot is it there?", "Did you have to wear a veil across your face?" and "Are there any trees or is everything made out of sand?"


The teacher allowed her to answer the questions and as she told about her life in a place far different from the rain forest she now lived in, the words flowed out of her. She held the class rapt, making them see, smell, and live her experiences. Later, some would swear that they could taste the Booza, the Arabic ice cream that Diana loved, when she described its silky smoothness as it slid icily down her throat, cooling her after an extremely hot, dry day spent shopping at the Souk.


Even Mike listened to her without any snide comments, and she overheard him say, "Cool!" when she told them how camels liked to spit on strangers if they were unlucky enough to approach too closely.


Time passed and before they knew it, the lunch bell rang, breaking the mesmerizing effect she had held over them. Everyone clapped as she concluded her tale.


Diana's champion turned towards her and said, "Want to eat lunch with me and my friends?" She nodded and followed him out of the classroom. He waited just outside the door, enabling her to walk beside him, before continuing out to the lunch tables.


As they walked along, he gazed down at her. An impish grin spread across his large mouth, exposing a perfect set of brilliant white teeth. With one hand, he brushed back an unruly lock of his almost white-blonde hair, then introduced himself "My name is Perry, by the way. Hey, you tell a really great story!"


Looking up at his face, she gazed into his eyes, twin pools of melted dark chocolate that shone with warmth, intelligence, and wit. She decided that he had very nice eyes, indeed, and her own stormy-blue eyes filled with gratitude, as she smiled back at him.

She replied, sincerity filling her voice, "Nice to meet you, Perry...and thanks for today! You are very gallant."


“Now there’s a word!” and picturing himself as Lancelot, his suit of armor shining in the sunlight, Perry laughed and then her laughter merged with his.


They remained friends until Diana's family moved again to another far away land. She never saw Perry again, but she would remember his crazy boy antics, done just to make her giggle and how he had told her that he loved to hear her laugh and never wanted to see her cry.

 ...and of all the past and future "First Days", that one will always remain special to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Perry" the hero that my mind has conjured from the distant fog of time, was a boy that was kind, sweet and funny. I haven't thought about him in probably 40 years....until my ride home from California this week.

 The Whippet was the catalyst in shattering the veil over that stored memory of my long-ago friend. Watching his crazy dog antics causes me to laugh out loud and he seems very pleased with himself when I do. His intelligent eyes, twin pools of melted dark chocolate, appear to twinkle with humor and my heart is captured. 


And so, I asked the Whippet if he liked the name "Perry". He opened his large mouth, his doggy smile exposing a perfect set of brilliant white teeth and kissed my cheek.

While I was in California...

Topeka, the state capital of Kansas, decides to change its name to 'Google'.
http://www.cnn.com/2010/TECH/03/02/google.kansas.topeka/index.html?hpt=C2

The amazing thing is, after I read the article, I'm backing the decision 100% if it will accomplish its purpose.