Geez, Louise

OK, found a job. It sucks. I'm proofreading "planned giving" newsletters. Everyone of them boils down to this: When you die, make sure your money is coming to us. Too depressing for me, even with Prozac.

Had another interview today with an insurance company. This looks a bit more promising, and I'll be working at a computer again. Wee. And they liked the fact that I was not an early morning person, and honest about it.

So, I now have money for the Eris sweater, which I will probably order as soon as this stinkin' ren faire is over. I don't think I've done this much sewing and swearing in a while. Two dresses, one tunic, stockings, underwear, and shoes. Yes, I said shoes. I made shoes. Or should I say shoe, since one is about an inch too small. Will have to make that one over, or just say the heck with it and wear my Birkenstocks after disguising the sole so it doesn't leave the tell-tale Birk footprint.

I've been taking a sock to work on while Sean is going to soccer. Four year olds playing soccer is like herding cats. Watching it is like watching a train wreck. Here is a photo of my soccer boy.

It is amazing what parents will put themselves through for their kid. Getting up early on a Saturday morning, when your first instinct is to crawl back into bed, draging yourself and your kid to the field, watching the little heathens run around, and then presenting yourself at the end of the game to create the "tunnel of parents" which the kids run through, usually faster than they did the entire game. And snacks. Can't forget about the snacks.

Time to get the heathen to bed. Time to get back to work.

Happy Birthday John

Christopher Jonathon William Bursnall

9/12/85 – 9/19/00

Today would have been my godson John’s 20th birthday. Here he is at his 8th grade graduation in June of 2000. Little did we know then that in less than 3 months, he would take his own life, one week after his 15th birthday.

I was pregnant with Sean at the time, having one month to go before delivery. John and I spoke often of how I would like him to treat this new addition to our family. I wanted John to teach Sean some of the things that only a brother could teach. I was looking forward to the two of them spending time together. We gave Sean his name because it is the Irish for John. Both shared the middle name William.

My husband loved John like a little brother. They had grown up with very similar backgrounds. Both were born while their fathers were in the Air Force. Both had mothers who had been adopted, and not treated very well by their adoptive mothers. Both had experienced the divorce and remarriage of their mothers. Both of them loved computer games. They would sit for hours on end playing Warcraft and Diablo. John would help Vince with his leather work for the SCA. They had started working on enclosing our porch to turn it into a computer room, because we needed the room for Sean.

This is a melancholy time of year. I look forward to Sean’s birthday every year, but also have a feeling of sadness knowing that these two never met. We’ll never know why John felt compelled to take his life. We only know that his is missed every day, and that our lives were richer with him in them.

Photo album

Remember all those photos I said I'd post? I've finally got them ready! Woo Hoo! (OK, so don't start acting like I'm subjecting you to the family vacation slide show. I do not do the "Bud and Molly block the view to the Grand Canyon" type of photos. Usually.)

Here are the boys, Sean and my nephew Patrick, this summer. Notice the loving way Sean has his arm wrapped around Patrick's neck. Notice the look on his face, "If I just squeeze a little tighter....."

This is one of the "cotton candy" dresses I did. It is being modeled by my god-daughter Elizabeth, who was one of the flower girls. Don't ask about the overlay. The wedding cake was even white, pink and black.

OK, so I'm boring. I don't have that many photos. At least one's that I'll share. Let's talk about something else. I hate to talk about the distruction of the South, because everyone else has, other than to say give. Money, clothes, food, time. And if you think everyone already has, do it anyway. And don't forget to pack your own emergency kit. Mine, of course, will have yarn and needles. I'll need something to do in the shelter.