… and so the final countdown begins… once and for all.

It’s 7:50 a.m. Sunday morning, and the surgery is scheduled for 7:45 a.m. Monday morning so we’re into the ‘under 24 hours’ final stage of what I like to refer to as ‘The Wait’.

I suppose I can say I’m ready, or rather, as ready as I can be. I know it’s not quadruple by-pass heart surgery (thank G*d), but it is big for me and I’m doing my utmost to scare away any demons that stop by to visit, and welcome only rational thoughts. I have now reached the stage of wanting today to be over with – in fact I wish I was sitting on the operating table at this very moment, getting the spinal. It won’t be long now though and the surgery will be in the past and I will be looking forward to the happy thought of knowing that each day will bring further recovery, mobility and finally, no more pain.

… speaking of….. pain ~ it’s darned severe now that I stopped taking the anti-inflammatory 3 days ago…. I didn’t realize just how much it had been helping :-)….

Only 23 hours and 38 minutes left….

So this is ‘so long’ for a while. The next time I pen my thoughts on Pixie Dust and Dragonflies will be a week or longer from now…. and I promise to fill you in on all the details…. LOL…

Happy Week!

Thanks for listening.

Okay, let's see now....

Phone the Province Newspaper (check), buy the ice packs (check), pack your bags (check), go to your appointments (check)..... oh darn, now I need a walker, and they told me yesterday I need slippers after all..... so that means yet another errand to run, but by noon today (check).... so now all I have to do is wait. Four more days; that's not too long.... or is it long enough?

I can step outside of myself and ask 'what's the big deal?' and in the last ten days there have been times when I thought I had actually, truly, succeeded.... that is until I speak to a nurse on 3-West and unbidden, out comes the question "how painful is the spinal?", or "what do other patients say about hearing the surgeon as he operates?"....

You know a funny thing happened on the way to the Forum.... I mean, the hospital... I mean, while speaking to the Anaesthetist AT the hospital....

For the first three or four days all I could think about was having a general anaesthetic and then not waking up.... I had to force myself out of the mind set that I would not wake up, to one of "of course you will, quit being melodramatic". You see, five years ago my father (who had suffered a heart attack, was 83 and had emergency open heart surgery) did NOT wake up; nor did my dear friend Sheila last August, but then again, she was almost 20 years my senior and riddled with cancer to the point her bowel had perforated multiple times.... In my mind's eye was a scale.... on the one side, my fear and on the other side, reason. Finally reason won out.... and just in time for my appointment at the hospital last week with Dr. Wong, my anaesthetist, and did he ever throw me a curve ball. "You'll be having a spinal" he calmly said, with a straight face..... as if he'd just said it was a nice day, or something equally benign. "What?" I was dumbfounded.... there I was, having struggled with demons for days, afraid I'd not wake up, preparing myself for the unthinkable, only to find I wasn't even going to sleep! Yikers..... I was so stunned I could barely think of anything to say, or more accurately, any questions to ask. I should have been prepared, though. I did read an article before seeing him that spoke of how spinals are more and more becoming the anaesthetic of choice for hip and knee replacements..... but it was like it went in one ear, and out the other....

I have now (sort of) come to terms with this news.... I mean, I can't do anything about it can I, so I might as well, huh? I've asked around. My GP told it's a breeze but was truthful in saying that due to my Fibro, I might feel it more than others. Gord, the husband of a friend who had major abdominal surgery just this past Monday and was given a spinal said it was a breeze.... and a nurse on 3-West sounded very honest when she told me she did not believe it was an issue ~ i.e. patients did not complain about it...

I will hold Dr. Wong to his word though, that he'll give me something that will take 'all my cares away'..... and I did make him promise he would have nothing to drink the night before and would make sure he was in bed nice and early :).... (I'm not kidding, btw). So I joke about it ~ out loud, and even to myself.... I'm counting on the surgery being much like most things in life ~ the fear is usually greater than the actual thing itself.

At this point, I'm starting to not even care, to be honest. I am tired beyond tired. Exhausted I think is the word. Case in point: I have two weekly pill containers. The larger one is for pills taken with breakfast, and pills taken at dinner time. The smallest one is used for first thing in the morning, and last thing at night. In the morning I take three pills ~ two Arthritis Tylenol and a Pariet, (a proton pump inhibitor). Twenty minutes before going to bed I again take two Arthritis Tylenol along with a sleeping pill. Yesterday, as I was driving an hour west to my first of three appointments, half way there I started worrying I had taken the PM pills instead of the AM pills, (i.e., I had taken a sleeping pill, that is how tired I was!) To counter my feeling of fatigue I opened the window, I put on the AC with the vent directed at my face... I cranked up the radio and started singing out loud...

The past two weeks have been brutal on me because I have been going like a mad woman trying to get everything done.... I suffer from fibromyalgia, one of the symptoms of which is sleep deprivation. Add to this the fact I am not getting proper sleep at night because of the pain I am experiencing. Even if I don't wake up, I am not resting. Dale has told me three nights in a row I have awakened him (from a different room) by crying out in pain.... So it is time... time for a new hip.... time to put this behind me and step forward, figuratively, and literally ~ time to get my life back :-).

Thirty years ago, as I was into hour 64 of labour, as I was being rushed down the hall to the delivery room I remember saying to someone ~ it could have been my sister, Anne or maybe a nurse - it doesn't matter who.... "Right now I don't care if I'm having a baby, or a monkey, I just want it to be over".... That just about sums up my feelings about this ol' hip of mine.... it's done it's best for me but no hard feelings, okay left hip, but I have to tell ya, your time is up.....

June 16 is the day after the day before...... Look out world.... I'll be ready for you!

Thanks for listening.

Tomorrow is a day of celebration....

... and for me it's a 'biggie'....

On June 10, 2009, at 10:12 in the morning, it will be exactly three years since I put out my last cigarette and became smoke free.

"What's the big deal with that" you say? For some, I'd imagine for non-smokers especially, or perhaps recreational smokers who have never experienced the challenge of quitting, it doesn't measure up as a day to remember, let alone celebrate, with such passion. Those of you, however, who know me well; know how addicted I was, and how much I wanted to quit but simply couldn't jump over that hurdle ~ understand what this day means to me.... One such person is my sister and another, my mother, and most especially, my daughter. Although none of them were ever addicted to 'the weed', they did however see me struggle time and time again.

One such occasion which is deeply ingrained in my memory bank is a scene that played out in a hotel room I shared with my daughter in Liverpool during the first week of April, 1995. She and I were in the UK as she had qualified for the World's Irish Dancing Championships. Leading up to the Feis, my parents treated us to a five day bus tour of England and Scotland. Five months prior to that, I had quit smoking.

It took perhaps three days after landing in England, for me to break down and start smoking. At that time smoking was very prevalent and in every pub and bar, on every street corner. As clear as day is the memory of my 16 year old daughter looking at me that early evening in our Liverpool hotel room, begging me to stop, telling me she loved me and that she didn't want me to die..... yet the weed won... I tried to overcome it but once the mental tape started playing over and over in my brain, it was a fight I ultimately lost. I doubt I will ever be able to erase the guilt I still feel about letting her down.

My next leap to smoke-freedom was in 1997, in the late Spring, the year my daughter graduated from high school. I was doing really well, too, until I heard of a serious car crash resulting in at least one death. The occupants were friends of my daughter's, and she and her best friend had been invited to go with them.... This was one week before my daughter's Grad Party... The next day she and her best friend drove to a holiday destination 75 miles or so away, for an after-grad weekend and shortly before arriving at their destination, they were in a car accident.... It became too much. A few days afterward I broke down and started smoking again. The date was June 5, 1997.....

I ran the gamut in my attempt at quitting. I tried cold turkey, hypnotherapy, some pill that was supposed to help with one's endorphins (resulting in me taking too many pills to try for the effect I was promised, and I become horribly sick), Quit Smoking tapes, and of course, the Nicoderm Patch (which ultimately, became my personal method of choice).

During the Spring of 2006 I was having serious marital difficulties and left my husband. A few months later, I realized that my habit was about $250 a month that could be spent more wisely .... so calmly and collectedly I decided, once again, to try. June 5th because Quit Day. I chose this day specifically because not only was it the 9 year anniversary from one of my unsuccessful stop smoking attempts, but it was also my niece's birthday, so easy to remember....

.... I was doing well too - I was determined, however on Day 3 Smokey, our most adored cat, left the yard at 7:00 a.m. and was gone ALL DAY..... I drove around the neighbourhood, I walked the streets.... no Smokey. It didn't help that the back end of the yard of the Basement Suite where I was living abutted the power lines in a mountainous residential region and that bears had been spotted coming down from above in the area.... nor that I had recently seen bear droppings in the driveway where my car normally sat....

At around 4:00 p.m. I tore off the patch. It is recommended two hours pass after removing the patch before having a cigarette. I spent the next two hours tensely waiting for the time to pass and then hopped in my car to head to the 7-11 a few blocks away to buy a package of cigarettes.... Dang, but wouldn't you know it ~ I was so desperate I lit one up the moment I got out of the store and into my car...... Can I say I enjoyed it? No, I don't think I did, at least I don't remember enjoying it.... what I do remember, however, is mentally beating myself up for backing down, yet again.... I drove home, feeling defeated, and who do you think was waiting by the door to be let inside.... Smokey, of course.

I smoked that package of cigarettes like my life depended on it - and before anyone thinks "why didn't you just throw them away" - I don't have an answer for that; I just knew I would not have 'got it out of my system', psychologically, if I had simply thrown them away. I had to finish them. It was a ritual I had to go through. At exactly 10:12 a.m. on June 10th I stubbed out that 20th cigarette from the very last package, and I became smoke free.

Throughout the Spring and especially into July and the rest of the year, my husband and I worked on our differences and in fact, I started spending weekends with him. We had our ups and downs but most importantly, we learned how to communicate with each other. As well, both of us attended counselling separately. We were committed.

Throughout this entire period every time there was a stressful event, I worked through it without reaching for a cigarette. This, more than anything, became my strength because each time I resisted, each time I resolved an issue and did not 'need' a cigarette to accomplish it, was reinforcement in my mind that I no longer needed a cigarette to survive. I cannot over-emphasize how important this became for me. It was validation ~ desperately-needed validation ~ that I did not need cigarettes to navigate life's obstacle course.

I 'grew' self-respect. My self-respect started as a seedling and with each occasion I resisted a cigarette, it continued to grow until it became a tree in my garden. I watered it faithfully until finally it became so strong it was like a tree in the forest which could fend for itself.

Erased from my memory bank were the stress triggers that when activated, resulted in me 'needing a cigarette'. That is why I no longer need to water my tree and except for special occasions, like tomorrow, I rarely even acknowledge it. It's no longer necessary.

Never before, in all my attempts at quitting smoking, did I ever feel like it had never happened; like I had never smoked. Yet that is how I feel. I have endured serious pain since Christmas and in six days I am facing a fairly significant surgery yet the thought of smoking a cigarette does not even enter my mind. I can be around smokers and there is not even a link in my mind that says "oh, you used to do that".... it is like that part of my memory bank has been erased. It holds absolutely no importance for me. I do not feed it. I do not acknowledge it, therefore it is not. Except on anniversaries ~ then I remember ~ and celebrate.

Yesterday, as part of the preparation for next Monday's surgery, I had an appointment with an internist/respiratory specialist. After taking my medical history I was given an ECG as well as a test to rate my lung capacity. To say I am pleased does not begin to describe how fortunate I felt yesterday when I learned that my lungs have exceeded what the norm is for someone who has been 3 years free from smoking. In fact, I was rated just slightly below the norm of individuals who have never smoked. My heart is perfect and after the breathing tests performed by his assistant, the physician listened to my heart, my lungs and my carotid artery. All are fine and he specifically said my lungs are clear. I abused my lungs for 37 years and I feel humbly grateful to my body for not punishing me for my stupidity and abuse.

I have a very bad left hip - severe arthropathy with complete destruction of the cartilage, (so indicate recent x-rays)... but the silver lining is that because of it I had to have tests done to ensure I was physically able to withstand the surgery. In so doing, I now know that my ticker is good and (hopefully) I am in the clear when it comes to my poor lungs..... I so love life's silver linings.....

Thanks for listening.

'What's on your mind?'

..... is a question that everyone who is connected with Facebook sees each time they go to the site.... and it never fails to cause me to pause. Invariably, I draw a blank because what, indeed, IS on my mind..... and don't forget to start your answer with the word 'is' because if you don't, what you eventually write will end up not making sense....

I must confess ~ I have a love-hate relationship with Facebook.... and if anybody had told me that I would be writing about it this morning, at the very least I would have been somewhat dubious.... it's the subject that popped into my head though, when I came to my blog..... so here it is.

Facebook is a wonderful communication tool but can become pervasive or even intrusive in nature, if one is not careful. On occasion I have a falling out with Facebook and walk away for a day or a week, sometimes more. The problem is that for me, at any rate, guilt starts creeping in because I know my friends will wonder where I am, and some may even worry ..... which makes me feel even worse and as each day passes that I don't log in, so mounts the guilt until finally, I give in, and wham - I'm hooked again and it is like I've never left.

It is rewarding, however, to be able to share my photos, for example, and then have a conversation about them with individuals who are in Quebec, Bowen Island, Victoria and the West Coast, all the while sitting quietly in the comfort of my own home....

Facebook is also a very helpful tool with which to communicate with friends who are going through challenges - sometimes that friend is you - and how wonderful it is to see how many people care for the friend and are 'there' giving support.

I can keep in touch with family touring Italy, or working in England, friends in Australia, south of the border, Quebec..... places beyond ...

Finally, Facebook has provided me with the opportunity to reconnect with the players of my youth, some of whom at the time were often seen by me through a prism of immaturity, insecurity, and frequently, misunderstanding. Now, after facing the challenges and rewards that represent 39 years since we graduated together, I have been able to revisit my past, and now meld parts of it into my present. I am not only learning about some past misconceptions, I'm learning who these newly made friends really are - with some surprises! Sharing our life stories together, we are now moving forward with greater understanding of each other.... based not only upon our past but are strengthened with a maturity brought about through lessons we've learned in almost 40 years of living... I am eager to continue forging these friendships as we move forward.

Finally, and alas, I am finding out more about me.... What a challenge.... but equally rewarding.

In the end, for all the negative things one can say about Facebook, I guess it does have its rewards.

In closing, a very Happy Birthday to my dear friend, my Little Sis Melanie.

Thanks for listening.

So I guess it never does end....

.... motherhood, or at least the feelings of wanting to protect, shield from hurt, 'make it better'. It matters not, I have just learned, whether your child is 3, or 30 ~ the overwhelming urge to shelter them from hurt, to make it right, is always there. One cannot will it away, it doesn't work like that. One cannot rationalize it away ~ because when it comes to one's child, the heart wins over the mind, hands down... it's just a fact of life.

My daughter is a very successful, very independent, and extremely intelligent young lady of whom I am enormously proud. Frequently throughout my life I have said to others that my daughter is my greatest achievement, corny as that may sound. It is the truth however. This is not to say she does not have her failings ~ don't we all (me, most especially), but in recognizing this, it does not, however, take away from the depth of my love for her, nor my pride in her, nor does it diminish how much I truly like and respect her.

Now for the reason I am penning my thoughts. It is presently 7:50 p.m. Saturday night in Firenze, Italia as I type this, and tomorrow morning Kris will be once again winging her way back home. As she wrote in one of her blog entries a few days passed:

So, I was feeling sad about leaving here even before my flight left YVR. I know I should live in the moment, but for those who know me, know that I am a planner and that I plan everything -- even the sadness I know I will have when I will be leaving Italy.

I get it.... so much so that my heart has felt like it is breaking, and the tears have continually pricked, since reading these words a few days ago. That is what this blog entry is about.... it matters not that she is 30 years old and undoubtedly is already planning her next visit. As I type this there is a tear on my right cheek, another brimming and about to fall onto my left.... because you see, I can't 'make it better'. And it is not for me to even try, no matter how much I want to. There are times, when motherhood is painful beyond words....

One of those times is now....

Thanks for listening.

I believe there is no such thing as coincidence...

... things happen for a reason, and at the right time as well..... it is serendipitous.... such a wonderful word.... ser-en-di-pi-tous.... just listen to the sound of the syllables as you put them together to form the word... feel how serendipity simply rolls off the tongue....

Serendipitous, an adjective that comes from the word "serendipity" ~ Some synonyms.... coincidence, chance, fate, destiny (oh, that's a good one), karma (another good one), providence, luck, fortune.

The English Thesaurus states the following:

Serendipity ~ the accidental discovery of something pleasant, valuable, or useful; a natural gift for making pleasant, valuable, or useful discoveries by accident

Another favourite word of mine is synchronicity. The English Thesaurus defines the word synchronicity as follows:

The coincidence of events that seem related, but are not obviously caused one by the other. The term was first used in this sense in the work of the psychologist Carl Jung.

Serendipity and synchronicity. I believe they play a roll in everything we do as we go through life. Most of the time the role they play goes unnoticed as I go about my daily life. I have, however, been more consciously aware of how they have influenced my life in the last few weeks.... Let me explain.

The last 10 or 11 days of my life have been focused on two very diametrically different topics. Firstly, learning of and preparing for my upcoming surgery, and secondly, the experiences my daughter is having as she tours Tuscany and finally ~ finally ~ visits Venezia...

These two very diverse topics intersected each other two days ago; in effect, my daughter's travels, and my communications with her (which contributed most happily, in a greater understanding of how unique and amazing she is), found me on the path of my own self discovery, all because of a catalyst brought about by a very dear friend. Thus my blog was born.

A further occurrence that can only be described as providence, happened when another friend from 39 years ago, phoned me two days ago. K and I both played in the high school band together, and both K and my twin played clarinet together. K told me how much she had liked and admired Ken. She spoke of discussions they used to have ~ not the details, mind ~ just that they had taken place. Recently another friend from the past told me the same thing.... learning about this has had the most profound effect on my life, as I learn more about my twin vicariously through two of his friends ~ voices from my past, and now as well, my present.

The conversation I had two days ago with K was much more than just talking about Ken. That was only a single grain of sand within a conversation that opened my mind and my heart to a myriad of subjects as I learned of hardships K had overcome, how many parallels there were in our lives, and ultimately, through love and warmth and giving, she now has a life that is rich and abounding with love and happiness.

K reminded me, without saying a word, to look, once again, at my spiritual side. With no advance thought I picked up a book I had been reading some months ago called 'Hot Chocolate for the Mystical Soul'. As I started reading a few short stories yesterday from where I had left off, the very first one was about a person about to undergo surgery.

Thus, the two current focuses of my life merged. My daughter returns from Tuscany tomorrow, and in nine days I will have a new hip. Pixie Dust and Dragonflies will help me get through all of this as I map out my feelings and experiences, moving forward.

Thanks for listening, serendipitously...

Oh no, not already......

Writer's block. It happens to the best of us, or so they say.... but you see, I only started this blog today so this is just plain not fair..... All afternoon, as I scurried around, doing the odds and sods necessary to prepare for what's soon to come, random snippets of words and phrases kept popping into my head.... and on a diverse group of subjects, no less. What kept running through my head was not 'would I get writer's block' but 'which story do I write about first?'... so I will just sit tight here, for a second or three, and see if inspiration will once again appear.... or not.

So I have finally taken the leap.....

June 5, 2009

Last night a dear friend made a suggestion that caused me to once again take pause, get 'in the moment', close off the cacophony of sound and interruptions, and seriously consider putting pen to paper (or keys to keyboard), and start writing. In saying this to me, she was actually referring to my daughter's blog, entries of which are being composed as she tours Tuscany on a whirlwind trip abroad... and my responses to her. My friend said:

"LOVE HER BLOG!!!!!

Maybe you two should do a book together!!! Like "Letters To and From My Mom (or Daughter)", yes that works for me!!!! Just as long as I get the first copy!!

I was reading some of your daughter's blog. Her humour, emotion, intelligence and personality just SHINE in what she writes. Your comments to her are WONDERFUL!!!!!

To have such a gift for writing, the both of you, is FANTASTIC!!! Not being a writer, in fact not especially liking "composition" I enjoy the both of you all the more."

So this morning, after sufficiently sleeping on it (or so I hope), I wrote back to my friend and then realized, upon completing it, that the time had, indeed, come, for me to bite the bullet, stop procrastinating, and start using this medium to say out loud, or perhaps in silence, what I need to say in an attempt to better understand who, in fact, I am.

So written below is my response to my friend which will now become my first blog entry..... and part of a new beginning as I mentally prepare myself for surgery and hopefully a better half to 2009.

Your message moved me a great deal - the bit about Kris and I writing together.... and therein lies a slight quandary. She is more private that I am - with me, I mean... and do I mention the accolades now, later...? I went to bed to sleep on it, but with a very full heart. Before doing so I actually went back to her site once again and re-read them ~ her comments and my responses.... dang, she is indeed an exceptional writer, and I do my best "work" (ramblings actually) with that first cup of java as each dawn arrives, kept company by the melodious conversations of numerous avian species outside my window....

... which got me thinking (or should I say, re-thinking), about something that has been turning over in my brain, now well-mulled, for many moons..... having a blog of my own...

My mother is a poet, and each of her brothers writers in their own right - my wonderful Uncles John, Ken and Bob... all the four siblings history and poli-sci buffs as well as being quite excellent in expressing the written word... funny, I have always felt I never quite 'made the grade' in our family (no doubt due to my own insecurities) ... until Melanie J - a lawyer involved in the movie transactions I was crunching just prior to retiring - told me on more than one occasion I should write a book..... she was from the Caymans, now living in Ba'dos, and became a dear friend. I would write to her my thoughts and feelings about Cuba, as well as life in general, and then along came Mary... rather, E.... who now keeps telling me the same thing.....

Back to my family - my cousin Irene (one of my Facebook friends) has a blog - a few of them in fact - one of which is linked in her profile and her writings are profound and thought invoking. She is my kid cuz - being all of 5 years younger - but those 5 years meant quite a bit when we were young... Yikes, not so anymore.....

.... so here I am, with a daughter who has a blog, and a cousin, and so much 'stuff' bursting to be set free.... so I am seriously contemplating this.

My Mom wrote her autobiography a number of years ago - as did Irene's Dad. I cherish both these writings. Prior to my father's passing we had been hounding him to do something of the same but he never got around to it - or rather, he had started but nothing more.....

I would like to be able to put "me" down somewhere to be remembered... yet in saying that I feel perhaps I am being somewhat arrogant and egotistical? That in doing so, I'm saying 'hey, look at how great I am'.... which is not something that comes naturally to me... in fact, quite the opposite. I may appear to be bigger than life with my outgoing personality but in the recesses of my soul, I'm quite shy actually.... and often not sure of myself.

Last night I watched the Rachel Maddow Show and I mention this because she had a clip of Michelle Obama, who this week was the guest speaker at Princeton University for their 2009 graduating class. She spoke of Sonia Sotomayor's nomination to the Supreme Court (Sotomayor was also a Princeton grad). A phrase captured my attention. She said (paraphrasing) that Sotomayor felt she always had to look over her shoulder to see if she had 'made the grade'. Michelle iterated that she fully understood as she felt the same..... Count me in girlfriend.....

So, on one hand I have you and Melanie (and a few others along life's path), saying I should write ~ that I may have something of value to say ~ and on the other hand I have this voice inside my head saying "surely not.... ".

I say none of this to seek reinforcement from you ~ rather I am just barring my soul. In effect, am I perhaps writing my first entry to my blog? Perhaps my ego does, indeed, want to leave something tangible behind.... and for me, writing is not so much something I strive to perfect, as an art form, per se; rather it is a means of straightening up a mass of very confused alphabet letters jammed into this poor brain of mine.... a means of finding some coherence while hopefully, at the same time, feeling I have been true to my soul and my spirit... that I have been able to capture my essence through the written word, so that others, who may be interested, will learn to know me.

Whether this blog will become a living and breathing entity this week, two months from now, or perhaps never is not something I know as yet... You know and understand me enough to realize I am like the sea ~ waves and neap tides seem to govern me.... I took a sabbatical for a few months, engrossing myself, instead, in politics where I could express my opinions in an anonymous forum.... while at the same time, dealing with a great deal of pain, and fear, regarding my hip. In essence I stepped outside of "me" and instead, emotionally committed myself to something 'not about me'. Well I am back, now, with a vengeance..... and with the sounds of the gospel hymn 'Oh Happy Day' still echoing in my head ~ I am embarking on what, to me is part need, part challenge, and perhaps something as intrinsically important to me as each breath that I take.... Is the gospel hymn a sign? Perhaps...... :)

.... So now that I have scribbled my thoughts this fine dawn morning, I am sitting here in contemplation ~ I just may create a blog.... that is if inspiration comes to me, rather than writer's block.....

And in so reading this, you, me, all of us ~ we have the answer.... 'Pixie Dust and Dragonflies - Ramblings and Muses' is now here to stay. And before you ask me how I decided on the name, I can only say it popped into my head on its own volition, and try as I did to dislodge it, it wouldn't leave...... it does have a 'ring' to it don't you think?

I will close by acknowledging the birthday of my favourite Golden Girl. Happy Birthday Sarah, and much love, always ~ Siempre!

Thanks for listening.