Fishin' Fo' Supper

Me, Peg, and da dawgs set sail down Brazan canal, searchin' for supper. We had a wonderful day frolickin' in the sunshine, and enjoying the sights, smells and sneezes of Spring. We snagged a few keepers, (Sparky thought they were ALL kreepers), brought 'em home, cleaned 'em and invited 'em to supper. Here's a lil show of our day. Sit back, grab a pole and come along for the ride.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=o6VJYKofXUU

Dis dang video thang jus' don' work. So we put da show on youtube for yall.

Gone Fishin'

Yesterday we spent most of the day searching for shiners to use for bait. It was a typical day in the goofy adventures that Peg and I often have. Early in the morning,(early for us) we loaded up da dawgs for da ride and ventured up da road for the half hr. ride to the bait stand. When we got there we discovered the place was under new (foreign) management, and no longer sold bait. We laughed it off, swore we would never darken their baitless door again and headed west toward our next favorite bait stand. We got there and I jumped out, headed for the counter, ordered our shiners reached for my wallet and guess what?? Ya already know the answer right?? My wallet wasn't there. Thank God for a sweet wife like Peggy, 'stead of griping all the way back home, we laughed and sang along with Skynard on the radio. The only ones slightly put out were the dawgs, who had been told they were goin fishin', and whimpered when we got back home.

Well, there was my wallet right where I thought it would be. It was lying on the floor, right next to the toilet, where it had escaped the back pocket of my overalls when I sat there perusing this month's edition of " Southern Living" magazine.

Meanwhile, the doggies stretched their legs, (which didn't take long on short little legs) we got our bearings and mustered up courage again. We took a deep breath, smiled at each other and set sail again in search of the darned elusive shiners. Straight back to the second place where I had first discovered that I had left my wallet at home. We drove up and I strolled in confidently, wallet in hand only to discover............... guess again............bet ya got it.......they were out of bait. What could I do?? admit defeat?? Give up?? NO! We put in another CD and headed further down the road to a lil swamp town that 'lives' on bait.

Finally, bait in hand we drove 45 minutes back home, hooked up da boat, drove 10 minutes down the road and got in the water. It was 4:30 pm. Well, das the way it goes sometimes. We laughed about it and all was right in the world, when after fishin' for less than 5 minutes Peg caught a "giant catfish" (least das what she called it). I caught 3 sac au laits but, unfortunately, the first 2 added together wouldn't have made a keeper. We only stayed out about an hour, vowing to come back the next day early and spend the day.

As you can see, we didn't catch quite enough to make a meal, so we are off again with our very expensive bait. When ya figure gas cost into the equation, those minnows cost us like 1.50$ a piece. As far as the fish they bring in, we'll savor every bite.

Swamp Birds

As I travel through the bayou country of South Lousiana, I am thrilled to report that the American Bald Eagle is alive and well, with a healthy population. Thank God the pesticide DDT is finally dissipating from our environment, allowing the big birds to come roaring back.


The Eagles seem to be solitary hunters, but with Spring in the air, I often see them in pairs.

The brown pelican, Louisiana's state bird, has also had a population explosion and is back in a big way. They are definitely a more social bird, often seen in big groups, fishing in the marsh. Like most marsh birds, they know that the pickin's are easy in our wheel-wash.

Easter Sunday 2008

Easter Sunday was the perfect culmination of a wonderful Holiday weekend. The weather was glorious; ya couldn't a asked fo' no betta'. After Friday's seafood feast and Saturday's egg dying fiasco, we came home for a fried turkey Easter Sunday get-together. The kids feasted on grapefruits fresh picked from da yard. I'm not sure if'n it wuz cause they sooo wonderfully sweet and juicy, or just the novelty of pickin' 'em fresh from the tree. The biggest kid of 'em all, Darryl, ate like 3 of 'em. Ren and Claire tried to teach us to play washers, (the latest backyard game fad) but it became evident real quick that it would take lots of practice 'fore we could compete with Ren; the kids a washer ringer :-p While Peg put the finishin' touches on coleslaw, dirty rice, steamed veggies, and nibbled on the lemon squares she had made earlier, me and my lil sis, Maria, fried a couple small turkeys. Not too sure why lil sis was so helpful with the fryin', but I suspect is was so she would be first to snitch the crunchy skin when it was done. We had a wonderful day and lounged around laughing and visiting til late evening. As always, the place seemed empty when they left, leaving a void of their love and laughter behind. I just gotta thank God for a wonderful wife and family and a great day to celebrate the most important of Christian Holidays.

Dying Easter Eggs

This year Peg and I joined my sister's family to dye Easter Eggs. It's a tradition that we do when I''m lucky enough to be off the boat for the holiday. As you all know by now, we are still learning how to use Peg's video camera, so bare with us. Here's a small example of the fun afternoon we had, laughing and celibrating this family tradition.
After several failed atempts to load the video on here I give up. Here's the link to youtube:
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=iZUhoZm4kDU

A Resurrection Day Prayer

I wasn't going to post this, again (with an added prayer for Our Bradley), but Cappy insisted, so apologies to those who had read this in past years. Last night as I was asleep, I was half awakened when Cappy played the messages on the answering machine. This morning I think I remember hearing something that one of Brad's aunts said about the shunt, which was put in his brain stem being successful, and that the doctors expected him to wake up sometime around three o'clock. It was late when we had gotten home from Cappy's sister's house, where we had gone to dye eggs with the family, so it was too late to call and learn the latest news. As I'm writing, just now, Cappy is still asleep, and it's too early to call anyone to find out...my goodness, that sounds so very hopeful! Be sure, we will let you know; and thank you for all your prayers and support.
The re-posted Blog:

When I was in lonely pain awhile ago, I wrote this to The Lord:

We think of this time...when your badly bruised body was taken down from the rough cross, and you were placed in isolation inside the dark tomb. The jeering crowds were gone, the sound of whips and tormenting howls were silent. In the darkness was no sound of breathing. As when you were born bloodied, you were planted, once again bloodied...a Naked Seed planted in the earth.
I reflect on times of having to give You, Lord, those that I love, and trust in Your Wisdom, as they, too, were placed back in the soil from whence they came. When all the fervent prayers seemed to go unanswered, when all the medical equipment and staff had stopped, after the mourners had gone home and I, too, my retching sobs, now quiet, had to leave them; my son, parents, grandparents and friends, each alone in their cold silent tombs.
I think of a particular seed that I like to plant each year. Before I can plant it, I have to take a sharp knife and score the skin of it, cutting into it's flesh. For all intents and purposes, it appears dead, a useless off-cast of some thing, not resembling anything of consequence, really. But because of something akin to faith, I plant it, hoping for something more glorious.
Dear Lord, we know not much about the mysteries that take place in the deep silent places. We know that God's Hand is working at those times. Babies are born after growing in the silent places. Morning Glories arise up out of the soil after spending time in the silent places. You, Lord, rose up Victorious from Death; and from knowing that, which breeds Faith in the deep silent places in our hearts, we trust in You, that not only will our loved ones be changed and raised more beautiful than ever, so shall we.

Resurrection Day, March 23, 2008. Lord, we pray that during this Season of rebirth and renewal, that during this time of our Bradley's life; in this, his season of deep silence, that You, in your Glorious Wisdom, would blend Your Healing with Bradley's body, and that, "that same Spirit which raised Christ from the dead"...heal his body and mind; commune with him while he's with You, there in the depths, and then let him awake, refreshed, so that he can once again begin to savour all the days of this life that You have given him.
We also pray that faith would arise, in those, who call upon You, in this season of rebirth, that their prayers, too, would be answered, for Your Praise and Glory.
In The Name of Jesus,
Amen

Cajun Castle

While drivin' da boat last hitch, I came across this lil house boat. It was deep in da bayous of the Atchafalaya basin, way back in a lil canal. The camp was a bit dilapidated and run down lookin', but it's obvious, in true Cajun fashion, dey got dere priorities in order. Notice the window air-conditioning unit stickin' outa every window on da boat.

A Visitor On Our Barge

This great blue Heron landed on our barge, rode along for a few minutes, and flew off in persuit of his herony ways.
Makes me wish I had a video camera like Peg. These guys are beautiful in flight. It's easy to see why scientists think they are kin to dinosaurs, cause they look down right "prehistoric'" in flight.

The Sunrise I've Been Waitin' For

After 29 long lonely days on the boat, this sunrise came along and no doubt about it, it was my favorite. It's the one I was waitin' for, the one that meant I was finally gonna get of'n dat dang boat and hurry home to my sweet wife. Well, I'm finally home and what a relief. If I gotta explain why this blog is so short ya aint never spent a month away from ya wife on a boat.

Our Good Neighbor Policy

Cappy has always called me, "Mrs. Kravitz", accusing me of being 'overly interested' in what the neighbors are doing. In defending myself, I say I do it in the name of Neighborhood Watch. Ya just never know what evil lurks in the heart of any given ten-minute frame. When I first moved down here, I was all by myself when Cappy was out on the boat for extended periods of time, and thus, nervous about any strange thump or bump, especially in the dead of night. This neighborhood, being such a tightly knit community; I wonder if, at first, any of them lost a little sleep, knowing there was an unfamiliar person...and a YANKEE at that, who was roosting in their midst and wondering what it was that I might be hatching over here. It's only been recently that the little kids have begun to let their guard down around me. You know, tho, in this day and age, I'm so very glad that their parents have taught them well, to beware of strangers and to look out for one another. It's a good thing.

So now, we all look out for each other. My heart was touched when one night Cappy and I returned late, after taking off early in the morning with our boat in tow to go do some fishing. Since we had driven about fifty miles away, it took us longer than usual to get home and it was long past dark. Miss Sonia said she was so worried about us that she was about to call the Coast Guard to come looking for us. To me that was the most wonderful thing...and comforting thing I could ever imagine. We hadn't told her where we were going, but she had noticed we were leaving and took note. Migosh, what if something had happened to us? She would've been our hero. Actually, by this action, she is our hero. We felt badly that we had inadvertantly made her worry so. Now whenever we are going to be away or something unusual is in the works over here, we let her know because we are part of her neighborhood family.

Now with Brad being in a hospital over in Houston, I'm not sure who is going to be traveling there to be with his family, to lend support, especially since it is Easter Sunday weekend. As I mentioned, they medivac'd Brad, his Mom and Dad over, and got him all settled in. It was a tiny plane and they were all tightly squeezed into it. I had to laugh when one of Brad's aunts...perhaps Miss Marcella said that it was so packed, that Brad's Mom's face was right in the front window. Plus, since the winds were so fierce that day, the look on her face must have been one of terror, which was not so funny. But they made it; it was a quick trip, and close to the hospital over there, which made it so much easier. At first Bradley was put in a room with a (I think) geriatric patient, but then moved him to a room with another teen boy, who is just getting up and around. A much better situation. This way, the other kid will probably be looking out for his new 'neighbor' in the bed next to his.

Cappy is expected to get off the boat tomorrow, so I know, in the middle of everything else we have going on, he cares about the boy...he's watched Bradley grow up ever since he was a little toddler...he cares about his family. The accident happened the day after he went out on the boat, and hasn't been home since; not to talk to his family; nothing. So...Now...let's just see who is going to be watching what's going on around here...will it be "Mrs. Kratvitz" or "Mr. Kravitz"?? I don't think much of anything will escape our attention, what with the neighbors away and such; especially in the middle of the night, with Raleigh-Raleigh and the dogs on high alert, as usual. Who knows what evil might be lurking in the heart of a plastic bag lightly floating across our lawn at that hour.

Wearin' O' the Green in Our Yard

...no cats and rats or elephants or sure as yer born, yaint gonna find no unicorns in this slideshow (below).

Brad's family called this morning to let us know that his fever has abated, so they are transporting him to an esteemed research hospital in Houston. I know I've said this many times, but his family continues to amaze me. In the midst of everything going on, as difficult as it must seem to be able to focus on anything other than Brad's health, what with all the packing and organizing to 'caravan' to Houston and setting up temporary living arrangements in a hotel, Monica, his Mom, made an important detour to shop for her younger boys to make sure they have a nice Easter. (I woulda been more than happy to track down some choc'lit bunnies and peeps...for uh..them, too.)
One thing that struck me this morning was when Brad's aunt, Sybil, said that they believe that whatever comes from Brad's treatments, that, because they are using state of the art research on him, much will be learned to help other patients in the future, as well. My goodness, such wisdom and strength of character. And, all they ask of us is for continued prayers.
Here in South Louisiana, it's March; as you can see from the slideshow, everything in our yard is greening up, and Spring is in the air. It's a time of hope, renewal; and rebirth. That thought gives me a fresh perspective on how to pray for our young man, Bradley.

Now Brad...ya gotta hurry and wake up because you know what they say about Spring and a young man's fancy (turns to love). Your pretty young fancy, Leah, is still here waiting for you, Dear Heart.

Captain Glenn and Veronica's Granddaughter, Bryleigh (click on Play, WAIT til it loads, then click on flower @ the bottom right of the pictures.)

I noticed today that a couple of times the danged Ads want to take over when you 'click' the Play arrow, with no purple loading line running across the top by the Smilebox logo, so I went back and clicked it again. If I paid for this nice service we all wouldn't have to put up with all kinds of crazy commercials. Sorry.

A Brief Update on Brad, Our Neighbor

I went to Thibodaux this afternoon to visit with Brad, and it's a good thing I did it today. On the way in I met up with his little girlfriend, Leah (who is such a sweetie-pie). As we walked in together, she told me that they are moving him to Houston tomorrow. Seeing my shock, she said it was a sudden decision. I guess so; his aunt, Ms. Sonia, hadn't mentioned it last night when I dragged my heavy pot of gumbo across the street to her, and got all the latest details. (which BTW, since all the gals...except me...are on a diet, just the guys were eating it, but I was told it was very good...Yay! ...after all that work, I want to believe them, 'nyuk nyuk'.)
(Jeepers, Peg!)Back to Brad; the ICU waiting room was fast filling up with family and friends again, but they said because they are transporting him tomorrow, that his mother and aunts were home packing. Once again there is a hustle & bustle in the air and a feeling of renewed of hope; not that any of them have lost one iota of faith during this whole last three weeks. And...I was told, for me...and 'Yall', to keep up the prayers, because they are working. I don't understand how it is with comas. Even tho he never 'comes to', he still has his sleeping or awake modes. Today when I went in to see him, I could tell he was fast asleep, but then Leah took his hand and shook it around a little. It was when she did that, that he did indeed change and seem to wake up, but with his eyes still closed. It's kind of confusing to me, but that's ok. But! When Leah told me that yesterday, when they asked him to, Brad gave a 'thumbs up' sign. Well, I couldn't stop myself from puddling up and then downright bawling, because that tells me our boy is still in there...he's still with us. Thank God; because he's such a cool kid.

All Fired Up For a Labor of Love

Yahoo-ee! Somehow I got my video-thingy playing again. My son, Joe, the computer Geek (engineer), who reads the Blog, and I guess musta been embarrassed for his Mom, because he called and walked me through some of the inner-workings of this thang, and helped me find an alternative, to this video thingy, in case it acts like a smart aleck again and tries to hide something on me, like it did the timeline. Didn't I feel silly when he asked me if we had a certain movie making program and I emphatically said, "No", then...uh...there it was right in plain sight on the program list, where I swear I've never ever, ever seen it. "Joe! Did you do that??!" (He has the capability to work on our computer like that, even from 1500 miles away.) He laughed and said that he was in his car driving to the store. I just I hope these two video programs don't decide to sneak around and talk to each other over the firewalls, or whereever they lurk around in there. April Fools' Day is coming up and I don't want any trouble.

After hanging up with Joe, I got all fired up and worked on my special smoked duck, andouille, hen and okra Gumbo. I thought Brad's family might like a pot of it for supper tomorrow night. I know when Cappy gets home and sees this slideshow about how I put it together, he's probably going to ask me what in the heck kind of order I've been using to assemble his gumbo after all this time. Then, in horror, he'll probably wonder what other Cajuns have viewed this Blog and seen how I've concocted this pot of 'love', as well. I really enjoy making it. But. Cajun cooking is a specific art-form, and more than once Cappy has threatened to throw a shoe at the television, where, "ol' Emeril has gone and put his foot in it again", because, as far as a particular dish, which he's called "Cajun", when in fact it's Creole ingredients that he's just added. (Well, I've got the ingredients 'down'; it's just the order I may have goofed up. But...it's all in there, and it comes out pretty good, so I've been told...after all the work, I want to believe them). One thing, tho, Cappy says it's traditional if you are from around the Opelousas, Louisiana area, to put a baked sweet potato (yam?) in your bowl of gumbo, but if you are a "down da bayou Cajun", more than likely you'd put a spoon of potato salad in your bowl of gumbo.

While I cooked and chopped, as you can see, I took some pictures, then fired up the video maker, where my timeline showed up, and went to work making this for you. I hope you like it. (I had all the ingredients; it's just the order I may have goofed up....it's all in there, so I hope it comes out pretty good, you can tell me...after all the work, I want to believe you).

HI-HO the MERRY-O, the Hammer in the DELL

I'm not a computer geek, that's for sure. My son, Joe is, but I hate to bother him all the time. I took enough psychology (elective) courses in college to know how to reason with people...human beings; at least most of them. I don't know what alien beings designed computer logic, but it sure aint logical...at least to this blonde-duh. The only way I'm maintaining my self-composure while trying to deal with unreasonable computer programs, is the fact that I'm not alone in this. I 'Googled' the problems I'm having,trying to edit videos, and learned that there are 'lotsa' people out there struggling with the same Adobe Premiere Elements 2.0 problems, or have just given up altogether. The fancy-shmancy 'timeline' I had been successfully using has somehow hidden itself, rendering the whole thing useless. I've tried everything but a crowbar to lure the elusive thing from out of the shadows, back into my clutches.

It didn't help when I also read that some smarty-pantsus, apparently nerds, can make the program do cartwheels, crawl on it's belly like a reptile and purr. Grrr. Have you ever?? Do you know what I mean??

I got out the instruction book and tried to read with understanding, doing what it said, as I read. There, on one page, was a picture of my missing timeline, as I had remembered it in real life, only a scant couple of weeks ago. Nowhere in this book did it tell how to relocate said timeline, nor how to breathe life back into it; but rather jauntily described how it pops up onto our computer screens every time the program turns on, and how easy it is to use. O sure it does; not. Sighhh.

Back in the cob-webbed recesses of my mind, I remembered seeing, on the computer screen, a tutorial which supposedly held the uninitiated user's hand and led them along, gingerly, through the maze of the program to the bright and shiney, colorful land of OZ, finishing with a completed, perfect video in hand and a beaming smile on one's face. Resignedly, I was ready to go back to square one with the humbled and open, willing mind of a tot, to be helped up, on and over the stumbling blocks, if it meant I could learn and keep what I learned, to use in my future projects. Uh huh. After about fifteen minutes and sixty tries, I finally found the tutorial. Staving off tears of, first, frustration, then tears of gratitude, that I had actually found it, ...I began. Closing my eyes, leaning back in my chair, taking a deep cleansing breath, I opened my eyes, renewed and with the anticipation of Indiana Jones, as he opened a seal on a newly discovered treasure, I clicked on the word, "Tutorial". There it was; an identical copy of the instruction book that I had wanted to tear apart with my teeth a few hours earlier!! I got the feeling that I was the butt of somebody, somewhere's joke, and I had no way to get even. Until I got calmed down, I had several fiendish notions, thinking, "Alright! Somebody's gonna pay for this!", but then realizing if I carried out my feel-good retaliation, I knew who'd be paying for this. And that's not why he's out on the boat working; to buy a new computer from another geek.

A 'Pirate' Looks at "A Pirate Looks at Fifty"

This book is the only thing Cappy requested for his 50th birthday. He said for me to not make a big fuss, not to get him a bunch of stuff; but since he really likes Jimmy Buffett's songs and books, this is all he wanted. (He has just about every album the guy ever made.) I finally got to hand it to him tonight about an hour ago.

This afternoon, after running a few errands, I took some flowers, a birthday card and some pink cookies to the hospital for Monica, Brad's mother, where I knew I'd find her, although I was a day late for her birthday. (late, me, as usual.)Ms. Sonia, Monica's sister, also my neighbor, who tools around the streets with fast-paced music going on in her headset, and keeping in shape, looking like a teenager, said, when she saw the pink frosted cookies, "Oooooh, you bettah come over here so we can slap your hands for bringin' those!" LOL...I just love these gals! I "thought up a lie and thought it up quick", to borrow a line from the Grinch. "Uh....I ...uh brought those for the boys...the kids...uh...even if they are pink", and rolled my eyes innocently. It was just another Wednesday afternoon, but, as usual, the ICU waiting room area, where Brad's family has been encamped since Feb. 21, was packed with well-wishers. To me, this is amazing. Cappy says, "Welcome to South Louisiana...this is how it is with family down here". My heart was melted, when one of the boys, Brad's brother, who heretofore, only had a nodding relationship with me, came and sat down next to me, leaned over and put his head on my shoulder. Personally, I think this family is exceptional, (except, of course, for Cappy's family), so no wonder everyone loves them, and cares enough to travel to Thibodaux to wait with them.

I got to go in to visit with Brad, who, though is still in a deep coma, seems to be slowly crawling his way back to consciousness. He is able to cough and swallow. Physical therapists are working with him to keep his body excercised, so that his muscles don't begin to atrophy. His muscle tone is still 'buff', as he was also a football player, and I'm not sure of all athletics with which he was involved, but he does look big and strong, as always. His Dad, Steve, I think I overheard, gave him a haircut, to even out where they had shaved his head for the temporary brain monitor. Gee whiz, even in a coma, the boy is so very handsome. He has the sweetest girlfriend, Leah, who is always present, and there are always several of their friends milling around for support, as well. Leah and Brad are both medical students, who go to Nicholl's State University.

After visiting the hospital, and a little shopping for Cappy's snacks and a few 'ditty bag' supplies, I drove out to meet his boat, but, as is the way of life on the water, as I've said before, things change. I had to wait a few hours, cooling my jets, until he actually pulled up to the dock. We got to visit for about twenty minutes, then I headed for home. He 'kept me company' on the phone, to make sure I got home safely. As soon as I got in the door, he said, " ...(yawn)...well, I'm tired; I guess I'll go take a nap". I had noticed that during my drive, he had seemed rather distracted, so I chalked it up to his being sleepy, until he added, "I've been kinda lookin' at my Jimmy Buffett book, here, so I guess I'll read a little more before I turn off the light".

One of Cappy's favorite songs of Jimmy Buffett's is this:

A Pirate Looks At Forty

"Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call,

Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall.

You've seen it all,

You've seen it all.

Watched the men who rode you,Switch from sails to steam.

And in your belly you hold the treasure that few have ever seen,

Most of them dreams,

Most of them dreams.

Yes, I am a pirate two hundred years too late.

The cannons don't thunder, there's nothin' to plunder

I'm an over forty victim of fate

Arriving too late, arriving too late...."

Cappy says, "Ya change the word, 'ocean' to 'bayou' and ya see why we kindred spirits". You can take these romantic swashbuckling rogues off da water, but ya not gonna take da water outa dese romantic swashbuckling rogues. Gotta love 'em!

"Huck" FIN.

Rats. It coulda been fun. I'm not a happy camper with any of 'em now. I've seen campaigns in the past where the chant slogan was, "Change! change! change!" We got change alright; (snickering here in disdain). Ok, enough said, lest I'd have to go drag out my heavy soap box, and I ainta gwinder do it.

Between Barack and the Hard Place.

Politics; ya gotta love 'em. Well, I guess ya don't, but a lot of the things are downright laughable. Too bad it's just our country and the well-being of the world at stake, eh? I know Cappy and I said we wouldn't offer religious or political ranting, "if'n we could help it". I guess it's just that I needed a little levity lately, and given the fact that I 'cut my baby teeth' watching political television programs with my Dad, so much so, that it's just a part of what interests me as a person. But, I try not to get nasty about it. And, there is plenty to laugh about. I'm not really a "Party" girl..I just vote for whomever I think holds the promise of doing the best job, and I have crossed political lines while in the voting booth. As per the global politics; I'm more mystified than anything. The saying, "Something stinks in Denmark" also applies in yesterday's political elections in Russia, methinks. Down here in the South, there's a word for flatulance...it's Putin...oops...I mispelled that...the word is "Pootin' ". If it's in the air, most likely it's around someplace. 'Where there's smoke, there's fire'. But I digress; there's enough 'smoke' in our own backyard to complain about. Or laugh about.

I'm so very sad to say that my favorite political journalist and commentator, William F. Buckley passed this last week. I loved his silver-tongued, erudite speech and even his mannerisms. Someone once introduced him to an audience, by saying, "William F. Buckley, the only man I know who uses the word 'syllepsis' in a sentence, while calling his dog". I absolutely immersed myself in the spirit of the game, while watching and listening to him debate, in the same way football fanatics root for their team, yelling and cheering. In the quiet of my living room, I might even jump up and 'high-five' whoever was watching with me. (Ya'll didn't know I was this strange did you?...just wait.)

One time, while watching a two-hour long debate, where he sparred with a panel of staunch feminists, I noticed that a lot of them were very angry, especially when 'pinned to the corner of the ring' by Mr. Buckley's wit, mixed with his suscinct and unflappable grasp of historical events, which served as evidence of his conjecture or opinion. Oh it was great stuff! I also noted, while watching, that these angry ladies' eyebrows were fixed in dark inverted "V"s. One over each eye. (Leave it to the artist in me to notice something like that.)After a potty break, I returned and sat down, unnoticed, and began watching the verbal dispute still going on. We were all enjoying the sparring, and nodding at each other, or yelling "alright!!" About fifteen minutes later, while in the middle of a cheer, somebody stopped mid-congratulations, and said, "Whaaaa?! What did you do to your eyebrows??" I wondered how long it would take for anybody to notice that I had painted myself some black, mean-looking eyebrows in the shape of upside down 'V's. (I just love playing practical jokes, by the way.)

Well, some doofuses, paint their faces right out in public for ballgames. I chose to do it in the privacy of my own living room, where no-one would ever know. And some people run for public office, where all their dirty laundry and blunders are put right out there for all of us to laugh at. But, seriously, folks.

Saturday's Update on Brad (March 1)

Although I hadn't gotten to Thibodaux in the last two days, I talked with Ms. Sonia, his aunt tonight, who told me that, "Brad is still in his coma, but he's moving around more". Please continue your prayers; they are much needed and appreciated.
I went to visit Brad and his family this afternoon. I learned that they put a feeding tube in his side, and Monday they plan on doing a tracheotomy, to help his breathing. Steve, his Dad said that right now, Brad is doing a lot of work, just trying to breath...it's like constantly trying to breath through a straw; so that should help. Although he's still in a "very deep coma", as his Dad says, he moves around some. When I went in to pray with him this evening, I noticed he seemed to move more when we talked about miracles; almost as if it was his way of agreeing with us, his mother and I. I may be reading too much into it, but that's what I took away from the experience.
His Dad has not left the hospital; has not been home, but has diligently stayed by his son's side since the accident on Feb. 21. Tonight he plans on coming home to sleep, but only because he knows that his sister-in-law and our neighbor, Maggie, will be sitting bedside with Brad. The only reason his mother has had to leave, was because she has to maintain some kind of normalcy for Brad's younger brothers, but every minute she can, she's right there at the hospital, as well. These are people of the finest calibre you'd ever find. They really need prayers, as well as for their son. Any prayers you could send Heavenward would greatly be appreciated.