What I've Learned...

Let me just share with you something I learned yesterday. Nothing terribly profound, but useful just the same... Pizza Cutters, at least really GOOD pizza cutters like one might get from say - Pampered Chef - are sharp.

Really REALLY sharp. Like a knife. Only round. So if you fail to remove the protective shield they provide in the correct way you might, oh I don't know, slice your finger, for example.

And it might hurt.

A LOT!

That is what happened to me yesterday. I was so excited to show Ron the new ergonomically correct, gimongous pizza cutter that I went to remove the plastic protector (In a way inconsisyenet with the intention of the manufacturer apparently) and in one split second there was blood. EVERYWHERE. Nice. Like a papercut. On steroids. Ouch.

Finally... William has wheels!

My son, William is eight. He is super-cute and quite smart in his own quirky unique way. He also has some rather significant gross motor challenges that have, up until this point, prevented him from really riding a bike. At.all. Of any kind. A little more than a week ago a physical therapist suggested we get him a trike. That's right, a big giant tricycle. At first I was reluctant - worried about someone making fun of him - but the PT reminded me that his friends will not and the other kids will likely just find something else to pick on him about. The value of him developing leg and ankle muscles and self-esteem and just feeling the thrill of propelling himself through space will outweigh any potential teasing.

So - after many many calls to different bike shops we found one that had one in stock that he could try. He was a little reluctant to get on it initially - he has severe gravitational insecurity and worries about falling - doesn't like to be up high at all - but once we convinced him to try it, that the trike was just like the tricycle that we had to pry out from under him last year because he looked like one of those clowns that ride tricycles he took to it instantly and loves it. It is fabulous to see him so happy peddling around, quite pleased with himself.

Bravo, William! We are so proud!

So - where's all the reports of the good news?

I know it isn't nearly as appealing to read something uplifting and postitive. I realize that as a society we are more than happy to soak in the bad news but I just have to say... yesterday I paid $4.05 per gallon for premium unleaded gasoline. I was so happy I wanted to hug the young man who filled the tank (i'm in NJ - we don't pump our own gas here).

Where are all the reports on the falling gas prices?? All these people willing to bitch moan and complain about rising gas prices... I paid $0.07 less per gallon this week than last week. I happen to think that is pretty darn great.

Am I the only one??

Memory Lane and Silk Pies

Here, my patient friends, is the ninth installment of Rebecca's Saga. If you are new here and want to catch up, please see the side bar. Have a comment or complaint? Feel free to post it here... Someone at some Ivy League school is likely doing a thesis on the direct connection between lots of comments and feedback and the speed at which stories are completed... motivation and all that... so - feel free...

Rebecca and Becky sat on Garrett's grave for a while - sometimes talking sometimes not. Rebecca thought it interesting that Becky talked so freely to her considering she was basically a stranger. She looked at Becky when she could remain conspicuous, trying to find some trace of Garrett - but couldn't see it. She could hear him though, in the things she would sometimes say.

"My Daddy always told me not to look for trouble where there wasn't any. I never knew what he meant when he told me that, but I think I figured it out last week at band camp." Becky said and she continued with a story about a drummer who said something about a certain flute player who was a bit of a rival of hers.

Rebecca was reminded of a time when she and Garrett were walking into town together as they often did. It was a warm summer day not unlike this one and they laughed and talked easily as they always did. Why hadn't she appreciated that more? Maybe it was because when you are 15 years old you don't yet know how rare it is to find someone with whom you can be so easily "yourself". That particular day she was complaining that a certain football player hadn't returned a call she had made and she was listing the possible reasons she was being "blown off".

"He doesn't like me, or he thinks my nose is too big, or maybe my butt or may..."
"Maybe he is just busy Rebecca" Garrett countered. "Did you know football practice started this week?"
"Oh". Rebecca replied in a much smaller voice. "I am looking for trouble again, aren't I?" she knew where he was going with this.
Garrett smiled and put his arm on her shoulder "Wouldn't expect anything else from you."

He had been right of course. The football player WAS busy. And exhausted from long practices. Eventually, he did call her and they did go out - in fact they went to the homecoming dance that fall. Where he promptly dumped her for a cheerleader, as cliche as that was... Of course Garrett pulled her through that too.

"Rebecca?" Becky was shaking her shoulder to startle her back to the present.
"Yes? Oh - sorry, Becky - what is it?"
"I wanted to know where you were going when you stopped to talk to me?"

Rebecca didn't want to tell Becky that she was going to research her father's accident. She felt it might make the girl sad. She lied and told her she was just out for a ride.

"It's almost lunchtime, want to grab a bite?" Rebecca offered.
"Sure" Becky took her up on her offer. They walked together to the diner talking about the incredible chocolate silk pies they had there and taking turns pushing Rebecca's bike.

At the diner they sat at a booth. Becky looked forwardly at Rebecca and said "I can see why he loved you." "Who?" Rebecca asked. "My Dad - he told me you were beautiful and funny and smart. That was why he had named me after you. He wanted me to be that way too."

This sort of candid truth stunned Rebecca and for a moment her own curiosity erupted from her mouth: "What about your mother, Becky? wasn't she beautiful, funny and smart too?" Rebecca's eyes grew wide shocked at her own sudden brush with brusqueness. Becky's answer echoed in her ears: "I don't have a mother... well - I never knew her anyway."

I need to brag...

My friend Fred is an amazing, gifted artist. You can see his work HERE. I have always felt a little like I know a celebrity since whenever I go to the grocery store I see his artwork on packages of flatbread Fred is a retired graphic artist and incredibly talented. Now it seems, he is becoming internationally famous as well...

He is featured in the current issue of Corel Painter magazine (Issue 18). The magazine is printed in England and the USA market is always a month behind the issues sold in the UK and Europe. The magazine is available at Barnes and Noble and Borders bookstores, and perhaps at other magazine retailers, if you would like to drop in and take a peek.

He also has a featured gallery at the official Corel Painter Magazine Website. Fred- I once again stand in awe of your talent. Thank you so much for sharing!!! Your work is just amazing and you so very much deserve this honor!