"This Sort of Thing *is* My Bag, Baby."

JF has the habit of scouring the internet for weird and amusing stories. He loves to pass these on to me, and pretty much everyone he knows as well. You know he's looking out for me when he comes home with lots of URL's written down on a sheet of paper. He came home the other day, and before he'd even shut the front door, he hands me a slip of paper and says, "You *have* to post this on your blog!"

"This" was a story about a judge who had been caught *during trials* using an enlarger pump under the bench. I'm at a loss to fathom in what universe the judge thought he could get away with it. Plus, the next time I'm called for jury duty, I'll have a hard time keeping a straight face while I look at the judge. I'll be straining my ears for the "foooot foooot foooot" sound from the area of the bench.

Another site my husband dearly loves is this one. Why he finds it hilarious, I'll never know, but he has the whole family walking around singing the catchy tune. And since it's World Cup time, he found the companion piece here and we've been walking around singing "footy, footy, footy -- England, England!" as well. I think he's most especially intrigued by the idea that the English Channel is populated by "ninjas, lasers, and gold."

Another site that he wants to send all you Star Wars lovers to is this one. Click on the main image and read each episode description located on the left hand side. Where he finds this stuff, I have no idea. It kinda disturbs me. My husband, that is. Although, I do spare a moment's worry about people who get very distressed when a Star Wars flick doesn't feature a few mutilations.

JF is also a HUGE fan of "Futurama", and was very pleased to hear that the show will be returning to the air. It will more than likely take about two years to produce new episodes, but in the meantime, he wants to follow in this fan's footsteps, and create a Halloween costume to be proud of. Scroll down so you may also partake of its awesomeness.

If nothing else, at least I can always count on him when I'm a little light in the content area. He'll always provide interesting links.

Postcards From The Funk

I'm sad to note, ladies and gentlemen, that the funk has returned. I think it's a combination of things coupled with my regular self-loathing.

I'm still missing my daughter. It's the first time I've even been away from her for any protracted length of time. (As I sat writing this, I get a phone call from camp. Offspring's been thrown from a horse, and while she's physically all right, the homesickness blues was triggered by the mishap. The camp nurse assures me that she's none the worse for the experience, but that she's just really missing her mom. Aw. My sweet baby.) I should be better about letting her spread her wings are soar on her own. I'm trying, but it's very hard.

I got a call from the Girl Scout parent that caused such a ruckus back in the Spring, and she told me that her daughter would not be returning to my troop in the fall. While, on one hand, I'm relieved that the dissenting voice that cause me such personal anguish will no longer be there, I somehow feel as if I've failed. It's my nature to want to please everyone, and I fell short of the mark here. I wonder whether the girl had anything to say in the matter, or if the decision was purely the mother's? From what I understand, the girls are perfectly happy with the way things are going, and it's just one or two mothers that are dissatisfied. So, now I'm left not only with the feeling that there's something I should have done and didn't; and feeling of failure, but also the odd sense of a job left undone; an incompleteness of sorts.

I also feel sort of superfluous at the moment -- school out for the summer, vacation over, child away, no major projects on the horizon. I'm at loose ends. I have nothing really occupying my time, and no real energy to start a new project. I've talked before about how I have real self-worth issues, and how I've gone to great lengths to try and prove to myself that I am a worthy person -- some days, it's harder to convince myself of it than others. There are so many reasons for why I can question my inner worth, and no matter how upbeat I try to be, sometimes the funk wins out. I guess this is just one of those times.

Halfway There

Offspring left for camp on Sunday evening. It's the first time she's ever been to resident camp, and we were both a little nervous. I was nervous because she had never spent so much time away from us, and she was nervous because she was going to be trying new things, and she was worried that she wouldn't make any friends.

Offspring stated a long time ago that she was going to be a vet when she grew up. She has always shown great affinity for animals, and has long been fascinated by animals. So, in furtherance of her animal love, we booked her for a week of camp with an emphasis on horses. Now, Offspring loves horses, despite the fact that she's never been any closer to one than a chance encounter with a tour carriage horse.

I was even more nervous when I read the stable's waiver -- we hereby waive any right to sue you should our beloved child die during her riding lessons. Erg. Well, I understand the stable's need to have informed parents, and their need to keep sue-happy people from robbing them of their livelihood, but wasn't there a better way to phrase it that that?

I have been rambling around the house all by myself since we dropped her off. It's very quiet. I never expected to feel so lonely. At any rate, I pick Offspring up on Friday evening. We're halfway there.

Monday Memories: Dig It!

In college, I had enough credits in two of my favorite pastimes to take minors in them: Theater and Anthropology. The Theater credits came from doing at least 2 plays every quarter, taking "Theater Lab" virtually every quarter, and from countless hours spent building sets, and clerking for the director. The Anthro credits came from Archaeological Field Work.

The Field Work was a summer-long dig. My college had long been associated with a dig on the site of a former Civil-War era plantation, and had spent several summers past working the site. The year that I took part, we were working in the area where the slave cabins had been. We learned how to dig a pit, learned all of the different tools excavators use, learned stratigraphy, and got thoroughly caught up in all the wonders of unearthing the past.

It was hot work, and hard -- first shoveling through the hard layers of oyster shell, and then painstakingly scraping off an inch of dirt at a time to find the treasures that awaited us beneath. We took turns digging and sifting, and each team had to take a turn with the surveying equipment as well. We spent hours brushing off artifacts in situ with paintbrushes. We minutely examined bone, metal, pottery, and everything in between. We would all scramble up out of our pits at the end of the day, dirty and bone-tired, but it was all worth it. We found a lot of wonderful artifacts, and I gained a new appreciation for all the hard work that archaeologists do that isn't glamorized by Hollywood movies. It's not Indiana Jones, but it wasn't without its moments of great discovery as well. It was the best summer of my college years. It was, by far, the class I enjoyed most out of my whole college career.

I would love to work on another dig someday -- there's something so satisfying about discovering a link to the past.

What Bumper Sticker Should Be On Your Car?

As seen at Inner Dorothy, what should the sticky stuff on your bumper say about you?

Your Bumper Sticker Should Be

I've made smarter things than you by eating fiber

What Bumper Sticker Should Be On Your Car?

Friday Poetry Blogging.....Sort Of

In lieu of an actual poem, I'm posting some song lyrics. This is a song by my main man, the Haddington Bear - Fish (like you are all surprised..) and expresses the kind of give-'em-hell funk I'm in today. It's all about how you view things, and just pissed-off enough to give me that upswell of righteous indignation.


The Perception of Johnny Punter
-----------------------------

Just another wake up, a hostage of a sunrise,
Just another petrified, ashen-faced motherfucker living on the planet.

(Just before it kicks in)

Just like a silver bullet,
Take a good look at yourself in the mirror and tell me that it's worth it,
Said it'll never happen, you said you'd never get caught out,
You settled in a habit, so now you're Mr Fixit,
Just another alien, living on the planet,
Living on the planet, living on the planet.
It's just one of those days when you know that something's gonna happen.

Just another betrayal, lose another friend,
You know you never need them, on your own until the bitter end.
Just another pick up, just another kill, someone else's daughter, someone else's girl,
Living on the planet.
We are in another world, Living on the planet we are, we are,
And you know there's some days when you feel that something's gonna happen,
This is one of those days which you know that something's gonna happen,
And something's gonna happen.

Somedays you just wake up and you don't have any real sense of direction, you just can't find the will to get up and go through with it all, your next allotted 24 hour slice of destiny.
There's just a bad vibe and rather than a world of opportunities, it's full of threats and just too many negative variables. I'd noticed these houses way up in the hills and I tried to imagine what it would have been like living up there isolated from the world, every night watching the fires crawl slowly down the valley, and knowing that one night it was gonna be your turn for the visit.
I tried to imagine what it would have been like hiding in a cellar with your family and the fear hoping that when they do come, when the dogs don't bark, and the silence is around you, you hope that they burn the whole house around your ears and they don't discover you hiding in the cellar because you've got nowhere to go, and you know that one day that something's gonna happen. There's one day, just one day.

Just another village burning in the hills,
I saw it on the TV, just another thrill,
Someone else's problems, someone else's grief,
Someone else's children, living on the planet,
We are in another world living on the planet,
We are in another world living on the planet, we are, we are.

It's just one of those places that never exist till you've been there,
It's just one of those things that you never will see till you wake up,
And you know that somewhere there's somebody that's out there who thinks like you do.
And you hope that today is the day that it's all gonna happen for you.
And you know there's somedays when you feel that something's gonna happen.
This is one of those days which you know that something's gonna happen.

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A Jaunt Down Memory Lane

I went to private school for six years, and I have to tell you, it was like being in prison. Not that I'm overly familiar with the penitential life, but it was very stultifying. When, in the summer between my sophmore and junior years of high school, my parents divorced and private school was no longer anything we could afford, I secretly rejoiced.

At Shoebox School, I had 22 people in what would have been my senior class. I was told what classes I would be taking, including electives. When I was asked what language I had an interest in, I said I'd like to take German, as that's my family heritage. Imagine my surprise when my schedule for classes turned up with French as my "chosen" language. Had I continued my education there, I would have had to undergo "Moral Guidance" and been forced to take religion classes in a faith I did not belong to, nor would have chosen for myself. So, when private school was no longer an option, I did a little booty shake of gratitude and hied my big ole booty over to Gigantic High School posthaste.

Gigantic High was nothing like I had ever experienced before. There were so many people -- and the choices I was allowed to make for myself! I got to pick when to have lunch, electives, and even to participate in a work-training program! At Gigantic High, there were more than 200 people in my graduating class. I was learning with other ethnicities (shock upon shock!) and even no longer felt like one of the school oddball/outcasts.

I was afraid with so many people that I would not make friends easily. It had been a core set of us "weirdos" at Shoebox School, and we had gotten to be pretty tight. What if I wasn't able to find that here at Gigantic High? What if these kids were just at snotty and cliquish as those at Shoebox? It didn't seem humanly possible that there was enough of the snot-factor left over for other kids, but it could happen, right?

In one of my first few classes, I met LittleBit. LittleBit was a year younger than I, but we'd gotten stuck in the same Algebra class since I was dyscalculic, and we hit it off immediately. LittleBit quickly became my partner in crime. We went everywhere together. She was quiet where I am loud. She was reserved when I am gregarious. She was very straight-laced where I was often way more trouble. She was pretty and petite, where I am huge and homely. We were like Peanut Butter and Jelly for two years, until the year I graduated from high school. She was gearing up for her Senior year when her father lowered the boom. He was a military man, and had gotten transferred to Germany. LittleBit was devestated. Not only would she have to leave her home and her friends, but she would also have to do it for her Senior year of high school. We both begged for her to be allowed to finish out the year, but it was a no go. Her father put his foot down, and away LittleBit went.

We corresponded like mad -- letters and phone calls flew across the ocean. LittleBit neared the end of her Senior year, and invited me to her graduation. I thought it was all a formality, since I knew I wouldn't be able to go, but my parents surprised me by saying that it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and they'd pay for me to go over. After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I called LittleBit with the news. We both did the Happy Dance, and I started packing.

I ended up spending a little more than 3 weeks in Germany with LittleBit. We went to so many great places and did so many great things: We went to the Gutenberg Bible Museum; we went to Little Oktoberfest in Munich; we went to Castle Neuschwanstein; we rode the train most of the way across Germany. I learned so much; I felt so deeply immersed in history. I didn't want to ever come home, but my harridan mother screamed at me to get my behind on the plane.

I have always looked back fondly on that time together. We grew apart after a few years -- we both met our future husbands, and drifted away from each other, but these memories remain frozen in my mind. I still can see the summer skyline from the windows in Castle Neuschwanstein, and the Glockenspiel in Munich in my mind's eye. I can remember the joy on seeing my best friend again. I miss her. I miss the closeness that we once shared. I hope she is happy, where ever she might be, and that she's well and healthy. I hope to track her down one day.

A Tribute to Juggling Freak

Happy Father's Day, JF! In honor of dealing with: a cranky pregnant woman, and a baby that was overdue; first-time fatherhood; learning how to hold a newborn; countless diapers; laughing at me for squirting the cat with breast milk; for ear infections; for buying little teeny patent leather shoes that hurt like hell when you're kicked in the groin with them; snuggling on the couch with your precious baby girl; for crying when she had to go into the hospital; for coming home after a hard day's work to take care of a distraught Mommy and a fussy baby; for watching in astonishment as Offspring got up and walked; for the thousands of dollars we spent on pacifiers; for her first word; for birthday parties; for starting school; for almost drowning; for helping her with her homework; for doing all those science experiments - like building a hovercraft for her to ride; for trips to Disney World; for endless Xbox games; for introducing her to movies that she thought she'd hate; for being the only Dad on the Girl Scout camping trips; for helping with all those frickin' shoebox diaoramas; for being the "calm" parent.

We love you more than you could ever know!
Mom and RatChild

And Now -- to Bore You All With Vacation Pictures!

This is JF's infamous Sombrero. Yes, he bought it. Now it hangs on the wall in our living room. Offspring did not buy the Sorcerer hat, but she wanted to. She decided to spend her money on more important stuff, though -- Mickey ice creams.

The other shot is JF and Offspring on a Surrey Bike at the Boardwalk resort. We went to the boardwalk for dinner, and a walk around. Offspring wanted to rent a Bike, but since we were WAY too stuffed from dinner to pedal, we declined. So, she had to settle for a picture instead.

If these two pics don't bore you into a stupor, I may post more.

I Always Knew The Diet Coke Would Do Him In One Day

Juggling Freak is well and truly hooked on Diet Coke. His consumption of Diet Coke is alarming. He can drink a 12 pack of diet Cokes in about eight hours. He saw this video clip earlier today. Sadly, it will probably not slow down his addiction, only further it. I do have to admit, the video was really cool. :)

Random Bullets From Disney World

Hello, all! We're home, narrowly missing the onslaught of rain brought on by Tropical Storm Alberto. We had fairly nice weather, up until yesterday. And, then it stormed like hell so I could have the chance to drive home through it.

Just some random hightlights (or lowlights, as they may be) from our vacation:

* Are there any English people left in England right now? They all seem to be at Disney World! Everywhere we went, the Brits were there in full force, even going so far as to hang England flags from the balcony outside of their hotel rooms as to show their spirit for the World Cup. JF had to stop in the UK pavilion at EPCOT for a half-yard of beer, and he noted that the Rose and Crown pub was wall-to-wall World Cup mania.

* One word, people -- deodorant. Know it. Love it. USE IT! And often. For the love of God, please....use the deodorant!

* When you've gone to a water park to swim and soak all day, why do you shriek like little girls and run for cover when it begins to rain? You're at a freaking water park! You've been wet all day -- what's rain going to hurt?

* Why can't you go ten seconds without a cigarette? Why do you insist on lighting up and fouling the air around you merely paces from the designated smoking area? I'm so sorry we had to ruin your smoking habit with our vacation. This is really a hot button thing for me, since I managed to have to choke down lungsful of smoke where ever we went. People ignore the no smoking signs, even going so far as to light up in the queues! At least I didn't get burned this year, unlike a few years ago, when a gentleman (and I use the term very loosely) was ignoring the stares from all around, and smoked anyway. He brushed me with the lit cigarette, leaving a long burn on my arm. And, then pretended that it hadn't happened.

* If you are even slightly overweight, don't (for the love of God and those with sight) DON'T buy the Speedo. It's just icky. On SO many levels.

* Also, parents -- watch what your child wears. This is part of being a good parent. There was a girl at MGM the other day, approximately 10 years old, wearing a shirt that read: "If you think I'm a bitch, you should meet my mother!" First of all, inappropriate to begin with. Second of all, on a ten year old? In public? Didn't you READ the shirt? Who let her out of the house that morning?

* Vacation time seems to be the time that people everywhere just seem to let everything go. I saw numerous instances of people wearing things they had no business wearing. I mean, I know I'm fat, and I plan my outfits accordingly. I don't wear really tight stuff. I don't wear teeny-tiny tops or shorts. I look ridiculous, and everyone around me notices me. Not my style. I have never seen a larger collection of people who went with the bikini when they shouldn't have. Also in this same vein, parents who let their kids run absolutely freaking hog-wild, and pay no attention to them at all. (Of course, this may be their usual game-plan, but Disney World is the last place on earth that you should let Junior run around unattended.) I saw a kid who was by himself, no parent in sight, trying to scale a fence over a bridge. Luckily, he was way too small, and couldn't get over it, and finally gave up. He wandered off back into the crowd. I still don't know if he was ever found or not. Saw WAY too many instances of people letting the kids do whatever they wanted, and the parents just not caring. Either that, or they no longer had the energy to stop them.

Now, I should really go. I have three suitcases of funky laundry to do, and I have to go sort out all of the items we brought back with us. And my feet still hurt.

Pictures of Vacations Past!

Just to leave you with something to ponder as we leave on vacation -- here's a business sign that we saw while on vacation in St. Augustine. I have no idea what kind of establishment it was, but we saw the sign fleetingly while driving by one evening, and decided to go back during the day to take a picture. It neatly encapsulates my life, somehow....

Off On Vacation

Now that I'm officially a Woman Of Leisure (as my father terms those who aren't working), we're off on our annual trip to Disney World!

We are in for eight days of Mickey Mouse, intense consumerism, and very sore feet. Blogging will more than likely not occur. We'll be back around June 14th. Everyone, stay safe, and have a great beginning of the summer!

My Latest Work

A few days ago, I posted that I was working feverishly on a new quilt as an end-of-the-year gift. I am happy to report that I got it finished on time, and it went out to its intended recipient. I actually had it finished a few days early, but I didn't publish the photo because my friend has this blog address. (I don't know whether she reads or not, but I wanted to keep it a secret, so I chose not to reveal a picture, thereby spoiling her surprise.) I chose those particular colors and fabrics because my friend's favorite color is blue, and I wanted to make something whimsical and fun-loving -- both of which are traits that she displays in abundance. The dimensions are 60 inches in length and 38 inches in width.

Now that I have almost a whole summer of free time, I'd like to get a few more done. I tend to make smaller quilts since it's still a fairly new hobby for me. I taught myself to quilt about 5 years ago, and have been doing progressively larger projects ever since. The size of the quilt above is termed "crib size" or "lap size" and is mainly used for children's quilts or wall hangings. I like that particular size since the projects seem to go together more quickly, and they're not quite so bulky and hard to maneuver. I do all of the actual block contruction (the sewing of the pieces that make up each individual block) with a sewing machine, but I will often hand-quilt the "quilt sandwich" (the three layers that make up a quilt.) Most of the quilts I make are gifts. I like making something that other people will actually use and love. I like the fact that I make quilts with a specific person in mind, and with an idea in my head of a design that matches a personality.

I hope to be quite busy over the summer, if I can afford it. It's pretty sad when you beggar yourself for quilt supplies. It's an expensive hobby.

Woo-hoo!

As much as I LOVED my kids this year -- it's over! School's officially over for the year! I am one happy lady!

Monday Memories: Dr. B

My major in college was English. I had a professor, Dr. B., who was the most warm, funny, engaging man. Dr. B. was not only the professor that I would end up taking most of my classes from, he would also end up serving as my advisor. We would we discuss the Bible as literature; he would teach me to not only understand Middle English (to a certain degree), but to also recite The Canterbury Tales in Middle English; and we would read and discuss Beowulf and the Romantic poets.

A lecture featuring Dr. B. was always an adventure. He could alternately be loud and strident, or merely the facilitator of a gentle discussion. He had the habit of pacing the classroom during moments of spirited debate, all the while, polishing his glasses on his tie. He would often perch atop his desk during lectures, and would be so involved into whatever topic we were discussing that he would go to plunk down on the desk, and would completely miss the entire desk. He had frazzled hair that stuck out every which way from running his fingers through it in an absent minded haze. His clothes were perpetually rumpled, and his office was piled knee-high with books, ledgers, and journals.

Dr. B. helped me hold myself together after the rape. He counseled me like a father would, treating me gently, but also keeping in mind my best interests. He was kind, something I greatly needed at that point in time. He told me to take all the time I needed to get myself together, and to call on him for anything I needed, day or night. Dr. B. was a center of calm in my turbulent world then. I learned academics from him, but also so much more. He was a great man, and a great teacher. I'm not only proud to have been his student, but also just to have known him.

Dr. B. died a few years ago. I learned of his death long after the fact. I wished that I had known at the time so I could let his family know how much he touched me, and how pivotal a person he was for me. I still think of him often, and wish that I could somehow let him know how much he meant to me. A whole generation of students who weren't fortunate enough to have had him for classes will never know their loss. I hope all students can find their own Dr. B.


** Blogger would not let me upload the Monday Memories pic, so I'll try again later. :)

Is it Sunday already?!

Where does all the time go? I've been a total slug this weekend -- All day Saturady, I worked on a new quilt (which has to be done in three days as it's an end-of-school-year present for a coworker) and having the mother of all migraines this morning. JF did all the work, including washing and waxing my car, doing a couple of loads of laundry, washing the dishes, folding four baskets of clothes, and spraying the house for bugs. I feel like a jerk for letting him do all the work while I slept off a headache.

At any rate, I'm working like a madwoman on that quilt. I'll post pics when it is finished. :) Until then, I need to go make nice with my hard-working husband.

Will it never end?!?

Sorry to have been AWOL for a few days.... I have been spending the time on the phone with my lovely helpful staffers at Human Resources. Human Resources is under the assumption that I do not have the proper credentials to do my job, even though I've provided them with all of the necessary paperwork three times. How hard is it to make a file folder with my name on it?

I had to provide this information (and proof thereof) before I was ever hired, and I've been getting a paycheck all this time, so one would think that all was in order. One would also be erroneous in that assumption. I got a memo from the lovely folks in HR a few months ago, stating that I needed to provide all this information posthaste. I wrangled on the phone with back then about all this, but, in the end, had to pony up the paperwork again. I thought that settled the matter, and the emails flew fast and furious for a while, assuring me that all was in readiness.

Until this last Monday, when I recieve the joyful message from HR once again that I need to provide the documentation. Yet again. Apparently, their idea of "readiness" and mine are quite different. So, once again, I've spent the most part of this week frantically checking my email, and sending yet another copy of all my paperwork to HR.

Dear God, please make it stop!

The Cat Meme

I saw this meme at Ladybug Crossing (I got there via Purple Kangaroo) and just knew I had to chime in on it. I give you -- the Cat Meme, starring the irrepressible Lotus. (Also known by the pseudonym "She Who Aggravates.")

Okay, Lotus -- it is up to you to answer these questions.
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wnetilsk dbnt ...ooops. Um...hello. My name is Lotus, and I'm a napaholic. Whoa -- wrong meeting. Okay, here we go!

Q: What is your favorite food? My favorite food is Fancy Feast canned Gourmet Chicken Dinner. That stuff makes me yowl in ecstacy! (Plus, that really annoys the humans.) Too bad they don't let me have it more often. Just so you know, humans -- your breath could use a TicTac or three yourselves.

Q: What is your favorite toy? It is beneath my regal nature as a cat to deign to play with toys. They are to be viewed from afar with disdain. However, if you happen to drop a Q-tip or a plastic drinking straw on the floor, that is *totally different.* It is clearly prey that is trying to escape from you, the human, and I am trying to help you out by tearing it to shreds in an attempt to subdue it.

Q: What is your best trick? What am I, a trained seal? I don't do tricks. Again, beneath me. But, my humans marvel at how quick I am able to get out of throwing (or squirt-bottle) range when I decide to howl or claw the bed at four in the morning. Except for that lady -- she hardly ever moves. If I want an audience, the dude is the one to go for. Plus, it's hilarious when he tries to throw things at me and misses because I've knocked his glasses off of the table.

Q: What is your favorite human trick? You mean we can get *them* to do the tricks?! Why doesn't anyone tell me these things? I suppose that I like their ability to keep producing the food out of that cabinet. It just keeps coming and coming.....

Q: What human rule do you break most often? Hm. I guess the one where I'm not supposed to puke on their stuff. And they say I don't give them anything! That lady one also doesn't like me sharpening my claws on the couches, or her quilts. She's kinda fussbudget-y that way. I need to keep those claws sharp! I'm a killing machine!

Q: What do you wish your human knew about you? Just stop with the baths already! You always say they'll make me more comfortable in the end, but THEY NEVER DO!!!

Q: What are you glad that your human doesn't know about you? I'm glad they're not yet aware of my plan to take over the world. Or, at least this house. Wait -- did I type that? Ooops! Nothing to see here, move along......

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end transmission

Monday Memories: The Day My Heart Stood Still

I saw Purple Kangaroo's lovely post about Baby E's birth, and the thoughts of Baby E being brought into this world reminded me of the joy our children bring. That, in turn, reminded me of the time that I almost lost Offspring. I still have nightmares about that day.

Offspring was about four years old, and we had gone out to the beach, where my parents live, to visit for the day, and go for a boat ride, and some time on the beach. We had gone out in my stepdad's large cabin cruiser, and were all wearing the requisite life preservers. (Stepdad is a ferry captain, and a stickler for observing the proprieties, and certainly was not going to let his beloved Granddaughter anywhere NEAR the water without the top-of-the-line life jacket.)

We'd had a lovely day, and were all hot and languid after a day in the sun. Stepdad tempted JF with a run on the JetSki, so he was off, tooling around on one of those high-end water toys. I decided to cool off by taking a dip in the river, so I was about 20 feet out, swimming and holding onto one of the lines from the boat to keep from washing away in the strong current. Stepdad was tying off the boat, and taking the coolers and other assorted things off of the boat. Mom was helping little Offspring off of the boat. Offspring was complaining that she was warm in her life jacket, so Mom took it off of her, intending to cool her off with water from the hose. In the split second that Mom's eyes were off of her to pick up the hose, Offspring fell between the dock and the boat. Offspring was only four, and did not know how to swim. She sank like a stone in the murky, silty water.

I don't think I've ever seen the entire family move that fast before. I swam 20 feet in seconds, Stepdad leapt from the opposite end of the dock, and immediately thrust his hand in the water, seeking something, anything, of Offspring to grab hold of. We all had tears streaming down our faces, and my Mom stood there, in shock, wailing her name. My heart beat stopped -- my baby was down there!

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only a few seconds, Stepdad saw fingers. He yanked her up, hard, by her arm, pulling her from the depths of the water with amazing swiftness. Offspring burst into tears for a second, and then said "[Stepdad] saved me!" We all fell to the deck, blubbering and hugging each other. We all prayed, thanking God for saving our precious baby. JF arrived back to the dock on the JetSki, unaware, to find us all collapsed in a heap , clutching Offspring for all we were worth.

After we all calmed down, we decided that we didn't want Offspring to be traumatized by water, so we took her right from Mom's house to a friend's pool. We let her play in the water, all the while watching with eagle eyes. Offspring no longer seemed to be too shaken up, so we gently tell her that we live around water, and we need to be aware of not only its glories, but also its dangers. We tell her that there's nothing to worry over, and she calmly says, "My [Stepdad] will save me." And to this day, she still loves the water.

I still haven't recovered. I still have nightmares of her drowning.