Well as most of you know we have moved to Jacksonville, FL having spent over half a year in a house that the landlord decided not to pay the mortgage on so … we found another house to rent from a more secure landlord (great guy by the way HIs Name is Gus and Will be refered to as such for the remainder of this post). Anyway … so In 6 more days I will Have reached a milistone in my life. I will have been at the same job for a year. I know to a normal person that just seems funny but having had 26 jobs in my life time having just one for a year is a great feat for me. So I work for a comapny called Skybooks we write small aircraft maintanence software. I am one of Four devlopers who are mostly friends now. So enough about me … Carmen Today went for a side job and things went good Ill let her tell you the details. Jordan is in Drama class in school and I spoke with her Drama teacher This morningn and she had very good things to say about our JoJo. Teyla is in Pre-school and loves it ! She is so smart(sometimes to smart ofr her own good) and she is so beautiful. She has caught fish in our back yard and loves the pool and is overall pretty happy I thnk.

Although none of our lives are perfect and things can always be better than they are at times life in general is made for living not for wasting so we are trying to live they best we can and raise our girls the best we know how. Ok well signing off looking forward to hearing from everyone.

Jason

This is the strangest job-hunting experience I’ve ever had. I’ve seen times in the past where there just don’t seem to be any jobs available, but that doesn’t seem to be the case this time – at least, judging by the advertisements, Internet listings, and even the cold-calling experiences that I’ve had.

But even as people aver that they are looking for someone to fill their positions, they just don’t seem particularly eager to do so anytime soon. LOTS of telephone conversations, lots of recruiters calling in response to my Monster.com resume, lots of positive responses from cold-calling, even. But it’s “well, we’ll get back to you real soon, we’re very interested.”

But they don’t get back to me, and they don’t seem to be nearly so interested as they say. When I follow up, I get “oh, yeah, we haven’t really had time to get to your application yet. If you don’t hear from us by next week, give us another call.”

“Summer doldrums,” indeed.

Lainie, how far away from the Houston Temple are you?  Is there any chance for you to go sometimes?  Do you have a decent vehicle?  Is it true you’re thinking of moving back to Birmingham?  I still need your address and phone number.

Can anyone out there in “Nev-er-An-y-more-La-nd” give me an address for Seay?  I want to send him a Birthday card.

Love to all…MOM

Chapter 1: The start of a big problem

The rays of the early morning sun made their way into Rosalin’s den. She heard the whispers of the forest as the wind blows through the leaves, and smells the warm, dry air. She slowly opens her heavy eyes, licking her dry lips. She waited for motivation to get her out of her leaf bed, but non comes; she got up anyway. Shaking stray leaves from her short creamy fur, she stretches her deaden muscles.

Rosalin took a few moments to smooth her ruffled fur before scratching her ear and taking a few steps toward the enterance of her den. Leaves crackles under her feet, and she knew it was time to try and find new bedding. She took a few steps, stops, and lets her eyes adjust to the light. When she finally is out of her den, there isn’t much to see. The grass around her burrow is yellow and dead. An unmoving silence drapes over the nearby trees, and nothing moves. The wind she had heard earlier is gone. Now the air is hot and silent, and she wonders if it would be better to just crawl back into bed.

The sun spies at her from tiny gaps between dull green leaves. Her long brown ears twitch, as does her tail, but she ignores the movement. She stares at the dirt that surrounds the hole leading to her den. Its starting to crumble and cover the opening. Rosalin decided it would need to be moved. She didn’t want to have to move her burrow someplace else. She quite liked the calm, quiet clearing where she lived.

A blue jay sang in the distance. Rosalin rubbed her nose and crawled out of her burrow, taking a few steps further into the clearing. She paused, raising her right ear. Had she heard something? She waited, quiet. There, again, further into the trees. The voice sounded familiar. Rosalin lowered her ear and went toward the sound. She soon came to an oak tree with golden leaves. Most of the branches were bare, but Rosalin could see one figure high up in the branches.

A small squirrel like creature sat near the top, her fluffy tail lazely drapped over the edge of the branch as she fiddled with a green leaf. The one raindrop shaped ear on the side of her head twitched as the rockhopper below her approached, and she flicked her gaze down to Rosalin.

“Oh! Hello Rosie!” she squeaked. Rosalin sat down, licking her paw in a cattish fashion, tail settled on the ground beside her feet. “Hi, Susan. Good morning.” The light brown Unsquir blended in with the branches and leaves of the oak, but her jade green eyes shone like emeralds burried in ancient rock. Her tiny white paws released the leaf and she hopped down, branch to branch, landing at the base of the tree with the grace all Unsquir’s had. She scurried quickly over to Rosalin. “I havn’t seen you in the past few days. What’ya been up to?” she asked.

Rosalin shrugged as the Unsquir jumped onto her shoulders and took up residence on the crown of her head. Her front paws lied on Rosalin’s forehead, and her back legs balanced on her shoulders. Susan’s tail hung down Rosalin’s back, tickling her sides when it swayed. “Not much of anything,” Rosalin answered. “Just walking around, looking for food. You know, everyday stuff.” She made sure to leave out the part about her brooding about the weather. The last few weeks had brought no rain, and Rosalin was almost certain that the Dragons had something to do with it. They had always hated the rockhoppers, greedy for their oil rich soil. The reason really didn’t matter to Rosalin, because she hated them just as much. Their slimy cold scales; sharp, cruel teeth and claws; forked tongues and nasty, twisted ways. Though she had only met one Dragon in her life, she loathed them with a passion that was fueled by grief and regret.

Susan made a kind of satisfied humming sound, and said to Rosalin, “Let’s go get something to drink, Rosie. I’m thirsty, and I want to tell you about the other day when I had found this huge pine cone!” Rosalin smiled and turned towards the nearby pond. She actually hadn’t been there in a few days. Rockhoppers didn’t need water as much as regular animals. Rosalin could go about two or three days without much. They passed nettles and heather, roots and weeds. The branches of the tree’s hung low, providing them shade, though it did not help much with the heat. Most of the grass was yellow or brown, and crunched under Rosalin’s paws. She jumped a log, hearing Susan complain, “Hey! Be more careful!” She smiled and hopped back down, continuing toward the pond. Susan moved, and Rosalin paused. The Unsquir hopped off Rosalin’s head and scampered off ahead of the rockhopper. Rosalin smiled again. It was always nice to see Susan happy and active. It made her feel better about the current situation. It have her a bit of hope every time she smiled. Susan was always a carefree little thing, even a bit naive. She had a tendency to get herself into trouble, Rosalin knew. But she was always a good friend. She had been Rosalin’s good friend ever since she was a kit.

Rosalin sighed, content with the silence she had began to dislike, when she heard an unexpected squeak. Rosalin snapped open her eyes. “Susan?” she called at the bushes. She walked towards the brush. “Susan, what happened? Are you alright?”

“…Rosie… Oh, Rosie…!”

Rosalin pushed her way through the bushes, ignoring the tiny twigs and branches that scratched at her sides. Once on the other side, she saw Susan, standing at the edge of a round hold in the ground…

Rosalin’s eyes stretched wide. Her blood froze, and all color drained from her face in an instant. She thought she might faint, but her paws uncontiously went towards the indent in the earth. It was about twelve feet in length, and three or four feet deep. In the middle, a small puddle of muddy water sat. A greenish yellow fish lay at the edge of the water. Its gills were gasping for oxygen it could not have. Rosalin knew even if it could get back into the water, it would die. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly drier then it had been in days. Susan whimpered. She hurried over to Rosalin and threw her tiny white arms around the rockhopper girls foreleg, hiding her face. “Oh Rosie, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know Susan… I just…”

Spearow pond, the biggest and deepest pond in Clear Rock forest was no bigger then a puddle.

This was bad.

This is where the trouble would begin.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Please comment.

I had a turkey & swiss sandwich about 5:00 on Tuesday, and by 1:00 the next morning I was so sick the EMTs had to come take me to the hospital. I actually went into “toxic shock” and they had to revive me with ephinephrine and Benadryl, plus some other stuff I don’t know the name of.

Spent all day Wednesday and most of Thursday in a hospital room before I was able to leave. White count was up very high, even some bloody discharge. YUCK!

So much for “fast food.”

Lots a love from all of us…

Eventually I could barely hear her and I tracked her by scent instead. She was always the fastest runner, and faster still when upset. I had known Rose ever since we were kits, so I knew a lot about her. And, naturally I suppose, I wanted to protect her. Her scent became stronger, and I heard soft crying. I speed up immediately. I began to slow down again when I felt her presence nearby. I recognized where we were by the smell. She had run all the way to the edge of the border to the forest. The air was crisp and the grass crunched loudly under my paws, it was dryer here then further into the forest. I went up to the tree I felt her against a tree. I walked and sat next to her silently. She was crying to loud to here me. I heard her mumble something. “Its all my fault… its all my fault…” she said in a weak voice.

I turned to her and flicked my ear to see if I got any reaction. She gasped and the wind swooshed as she turned her head to face me. I could just imagine her face; the tan fur on her face would be all ruffled up and her dark brown eyes, almost red, would be pink and puffy. Tears would be rolling down the sides of her cheeks. I smelt the dried blood on her face and bent down closer to lick the wound. It was the only way I felt helpful at the moment. I felt her face heat up, and it confused me. She had started doing that ever since I had lost my eyes, and she never did it we were kits. I licked the blood off the wound and moved so I was more comfortable. She started to tear up again. She lowered her head on my shoulder and sobbed. “I-I’m sorry A-Artek…” “What for?” I asked, turning my head down to her. “For yelling at you like that. I was just mad at father and…” “Don’t worry about it. I could feel that you were angry, and I understand that it got a bit out of control. It wasn’t your fault that I jumped in and you felt the need to let your anger out on me. I should be the one saying sorry,” I told her. I wanted her to feel better, and I felt like I was the one making her cry in the first place. I felt her head turn to look at me. I wish I could have seen her face, because I felt she was still a bit sad, but also confused and guilty. “Its still my fault. I should have been able to control my emotions. Everything is my fault…” “No. No its not Rose, and you need to stop thinking that,” I told her firmly. She sniffled. “But Artek-” “If you’re thinking about my eyes, I’ve told you a million times, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyones fault, it was an accident.” I said, gently nuzzling her ear.

It was a few minutes before I felt that she had calmed down.I grabbed each side of her and helped her up. “Now, don’t you think it would be best if we went to find the others? I’m sure they’re wondering where we are.” “Katie’s probably got Crow flying and looking for us,” she said chuckling. I was glad she felt better. “Do you mind leading the way?” I asked her. I was still a bit unfamiliar with this area, and if she went first I would remember it better. “Sure, why not,” she said, and started running for the others. It was about two minutes before we came to the log. She jumped over it and I followed. ~Five hops from moss scent~ I thought, memorizing the area so I would remember later.

We soon entered the busier part of the forest, and I could hear the others calling for us. Sounds flooded my ears. The sound of Unosqirs looking for nuts and berries, a few frogs were by the small puddle a few bounds north… the sound of a nesting family of blue jays not to far. “Rosy! Artek!” Katie’s voice chimed in my ears. Her voice was like the sound of someone playing a leaf whistle. It tickled my ears, but in a good way. “Rosalin, Artek, are you guys around?” I heard Or-Tal ask before yawning. Her voice was low and steady, soft against my ears. I heard Rosalin jump through some bushes. “Oh, there you are!” Katie said, suprised. I jumped and landed next to her soon after. “Oh, and Artek too,” she said. I felt her come closer to us. A thump on the ground; Susan had jumped off her head. She ran over to Rosalin and jumped onto hers. “Sorry about your dad and everything,” she said in her small voice. Her voice kind of tickled like Katie’s, but it was also high pitched, and so when she was to loud, it was very annoying.

Rosaline sighed. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get over it…” she said, her voice drifting. “But what if he really does make us all fight?” Or-Tal said. I could feel her close behind me. I just stood there, listening to the conversation. I didn’t really talk when it was all us like this, just when it was Rose and I. I heard distant wing beats. “Crow’s coming back,” I warned. A few seconds later I heard wing beats and feet. “Well, I couldn’t- oh… there you two are,” he said. His voice was dark and menacing, but calming in a weird way. The tips of his wings dragged as he walked over. I heard him ruffle the feathers on them. “So what we gonna do about all this?” he asked. I could hear the distaste in his voice. “We gonna fight or what?” It was quiet. “I’m going home guy’s. See ya later… I guess,” Rose said. She speed up before anyone could say anything about the matter. Susan had jumped off her head when she left. “I wonder whats wrong,” Katie asked. “Let her blow off steam,” Crow said, shrugging it off. “Better she bites her own head off then ours.” With that, he flew off, his wings beating growing fainter and fainter. Katie huffed. “‘Better she bites her own head off then ours!’” Katie squeaked, badly imitating Crow’s voice. I probably would have laughed if not for the fact that I felt like I was going to throw up. Something Rosaline said made me uncomfortable. “You know what guys… I’m heading for home too. See ya!” I said, turning and running for home. They didn’t say anything.

I was awaken by the rustle of leaves. It was now nightime and I was sleeping in my den beside my cousin. I streached and flicked my ear. I was going to see what Rose was doing ealryer, but I had to help at home and didn’t have the time. I streched a bit more as I quietly slinked out of the tunnles. I had memorized every twist and turn about this place. I soon felt cool air blowing and know I was by one of the three exits we had, hopfuly the one closest to the sound. I emerged to be covered in a blanket of cold. I shivered and raised my ears a bit. Everything seemed quiet enough… There was a crack about 12 yards away. A twig snapping? I slowly walked over to the sound. I heard the sound of feet creeping slowly and quietly past the area. I sniffed and followed the scent, trying to be as quite as possible. It smelt like… tree sap? What was tree sap walking around at this time of night? Wait… I smelt leather too. Water, bread, seeds, glass, herbs, the strong scent of medicine and… I stepped into a small clearing. I recognized it by the fell of rough rocks and slightly damp soil. I was by Spearow pond. I felt the presence on the other side of the clearing, and I sniffed. A familiar scent filled my nose, covered in a mask of tree sap. I heard a sharp intake of breath. “…Rosaline…?”

Srry if its short, but I was running out of ideas. Its hard to do Artek’s point of view! I mean, I’m no blind, so I don’t really know how to describe things I can not see. Please message at least telling me I did well on his POV, and I’ll feel better. It took me a while just to finish writing this one. Urg…

Plz message, or I will send you sad… =3~

Ike came ashore at Galveston around midnight, and by 3:00 in the morning things were getting really interesting up here. Power went out at 3:15 AM. The noise just from the wind was unbelievable. I know we got hurricane-force winds here but I don’t know the official windspeed for our area.

We lost a lot of shingles off the roof – along with most of our neighbors. Small Live Oak tree next door was pushed over, and our trampoline (which I had “U-Bolted” to the ground at eight points) flipped over the fence and ended in that neighbor’s backyard.

The fence between us and the neighbor on the other side is completely gone – unfortunate since they have a pit bull (yeah, they’re THAT kind). I’ve got some blue tarps that I’m gonna put up on the roof over our bedroom and the adjacent space on the west (front) side of our house. The roof leaked there and the ceiling is pretty torn up, I had to put plastic cartons under it overnight (”drip, drip, drip…”)

The power came back on around 4:00 this afternoon.

All in all, we came out okay. More than 20,000 people stayed on Galveston Island, we’re waiting to hear the death toll (everyone’s sure there had to be some deaths with the size of the storm surge).

I’ll let y’all know if anything else comes up.

Love to all who’ve asked and prayed.

It’s projected to hit Galveston as a Category 2 – NOT a major hurricane, but certainly an inconvenience.

Amaya has decided that if she gets scared, we’ll all huddle with flashlights in Nana and Paw-Paw’s room, and tell scary stories.

Go figure.

Stay tuned.

* * *UPDATE* * ** * *UPDATE* * ** * *UPDATE* * ** * *UPDATE* * *

Friday 6:30 PM CDT

Winds are well up into the “tropical storm” force now, and we’re starting to hear it. Oddly enough, no rain yet.

Would you believe it? FORTY PERCENT of the residents of Galveston Island did NOT evacuate and are staying. Some people are going to be killed; the storm surge is expected to be 15-20 feet with 10 to 20 foot waves on top of that! It’s to the point now where no rescue is possible because boats and of course aircraft can’t operate. They had a small warehouse burn down in Galveston because the streets around it were flooded and no fire fighters could get to the area.

I see by the Weather Underground charts that we have about a 50-50 chance of seeing hurricane-force winds (72 mph+) where we are. And a spokesman for the biggest power company here (we have several) stated that they expect power outages “for weeks” throughout the area.

After the storm passes, we’ll decide what to do, but we may go up to Birmingham to stay with Beth for awhile. Beth, hope you don’t have company for dinner like we talked about last weekend!

Pray for us.

Finally took a few minutes – it was actually not that hard to figure out – and now it’s working again.

I thought the article was worth writing so I’m inviting y’all to check it out.

I know I love them as much as I could ever love my bio-grandchildren.

We’re going to have to figure out how to get all this generation of kids together more often. Beth and I had talked in nonspecific terms about “trading hostages” during the Summers in the future, for instance having Dylan (and maybe Ryder, who definitely has his own thoughts on these things) come and visit for a couple of weeks, then sending them along with our boys to Birmingham for a couple of weeks.

I’m not sure how to work all that, but as Mother can attest, as well as Buddy and me who did have cousins on Bill Sr.’s side that we were privileged to be close to in our formative years, it’s great to have warm relations with your extended family. Mother had her McLure cousins, just to name a few, and I distinctly remember (as I mentioned during our whiffle-ball game) her dominating those Hollands as a slugger in their pick-up baseball games when she was in her late-20s.

Anyway, just a thought in passing.

Love to all.

We should be getting a LOT of rain over the next day or so. I’ve stayed home today, because I didn’t want to go to work then just turn around and head home again.

Here’s hoping we don’t lose power or anything!

* * * UPDATE WEDNESDAY 6 AUGUST 2008 * * *

Well, the storm’s come and gone and left nothing much in its wake but a few blown-over beach umbrellas. As usual with our vaunted Mainstream Media, the hype and the build-up was W-A-Y bigger than the reality. I think we probably had some pretty good winds in the coastal areas between the Bolivar Peninsula just east of Galveston and Port Arthur, Texas, but there’s NOTHING THERE except a bunch of old beach houses, and they’re all up on stilts.

The storm surge MIGHT have been a foot or eighteen inches. Not enough to worry about.

We got about three inches of rain in our neck of the woods, although they DID get a lot more than that east of Houston proper. However, most of that rain fell in areas just adjacent to the bay, and so there really wasn’t much flooding of rivers further inland.

In fact, as the storm downgraded to a “tropical depression” and headed out over Austin and West Texas, it was more a blessing than anything else, since there has been pervasive drought there extending back several years. Those folks really needed the rain!

So, all’s well, the lights never even flickered out our way. I’m back in the office again today for the first time in ALMOST two weeks, given my hospital stay plus the reunion trip.

Love to all.

1) Although it’s true that she hasn’t been “communicado” of late, that applies not just to me but to her entire family on both sides. Her mother also admonished her that many family members are concerned that she isn’t talking much.

2) She has been going through a very rough time of late. I do not feel at liberty to discuss particulars, but suffice it to say that her cup overfloweth right at this moment, and not with “good stuff.”

3) I do feel to point out that one traumatic event was the death of her cousin Matt (son of Lynda’s sister Margaret) in a tragic automobile accident. This has been the toughest thing for her to deal with, but not the only thing.

4) Leah has decided to leave Mobile and move back to Birmingham this summer. Her lease is up in June and she’ll be leaving shortly thereafter. She plans to enroll at UAB in the fall. She has done well academically at South Alabama, and I hope she doesn’t have any trouble transferring her credits.

I guess one good thing about it is, Leah will be near a lot more of her family including Hillary. Perhaps some members of OUR family might have the opportunity to visit with her at some point in the future.

No one here who is a parent will fail to understand how, no matter how difficult and rocky your relationships with your children, you continue to love them and your heart yearns after them and after their welfare. Much of the “estrangement” between Leah and me is entirely my fault, and I know it. I don’t know what if anything I can do about it, but I do acknowledge it.

Please remember Leah in your prayers. I believe she would appreciate that very much.

It’s luisman65@yahoo.com

 Love you guys!  Bethy

I guess it doesn’t hurt that perhaps the largest purveyor of grits modern-day is Quaker Oats, a fine old Chicago company! We don’t have “Jim Dandy” here in Houston, and I really don’t see any other product here on the shelf at Kroger and Randall’s (the local version of Safeway). So Quaker Oats it is.

Some of you might remember the 70s sit-com “Alice,” featuring Alabama native Polly Holliday as “Flo”. “Kiss my grits” was her trademark retort.

And no, I didn’t actually misspell “grits.”

You see, we Polhemus kids were fortunate to have Mrs. Mary Ellen Lake Polhemus as our grandmother. G’mother Polhemus came from an old South Carolina family – her father was a physician – and she was incredibly “correct” in everything she said. She was a schoolteacher and used to having her word taken as law inside AND outside her home.

She would not permit anyone, esp. her grandchildren, to use the word “grits.” It was “hominy GRIST,” she told us, and only “hominy” was allowed to be used in short. Her tale is that the word “grits” was a corruption of “grist” that entered the language from, er, “African Americans in forced servitude” (she used a shorter term than that, which I’ll leave to your imagination).

It’s possible that’s true, and my dear departed grandmother’s sensibilities aside, lots of words have entered the language as a “corruption” of other words, like “banjo” (from the East African word mbanza) and “buckeroo” (from the Spanish vaquero) for example. So I don’t mind using “grits” for “grist of hominy”.

Anyway, my cravings have been tamed somewhat by keeping boxes of Quaker Oats Instant Grits in my desk. From time to time, as the cravings become too strong to ignore, I make my way to the coffee room where I mix them in the hot water on tap from the big coffee maker. Stir, let sit for a few, then enjoy all that ersatz Southern goodness!

“Like Mom used to make?” Hardly. Not even nearly as good as NANCY makes, but it’ll do when the cravings get to be too strong.

Hey, I don’t smoke, drink alcohol, gamble or go to strip clubs. My grits obsession is a small indulgence (and only 100 calories per serving, with no fat!)

Love to all, and I’ll keep on spoonin’ ‘em up!

I decided to “upgrade” my 12-string (have an Alvarez, decided on a new Breedlove Atlas, will sell the old one), but I goofed! I purchased what I thought was the 12-string, only to discover after ripping into the newly-delivered box that it was a 6-string! Boo-hoo!

Have corrected the order, must ship “wrong” guitar back, and…no, Bill, I said SHIP IT BACK! You…

What do you mean, can’t you just play with it for a few days first? NO! NO! NO!

You KNOW what will happen! You’ll mess around with it and then decide that for some reason or other, you just HAVE to keep IT as well as ordering the new 12-string! And you already HAVE a Washburn 6-string, AND a Takamine, AND that nice little Cort Earth…

What do you mean, those are all “different”? Okay, the Washburn is actually a SMALL jumbo, not a full-size, and the Takamine is a small-body and the Cort Earth is a parlour guitar, but that…

No! I said NO!!! Do you want to stay married, or not? If Nancy catches wind of the fact that the total number of guitars in the house just mysteriously doubled, you KNOW what that means! She’s gonna kick you out and…

What do you mean, “she’ll understand”? Boy, you’re cruisin’ for a bruisin’…

No, we will NOT talk about this later, I…

*SIGH* Sorry, folks, this is going to have to be continued in private. But if for some reason Nancy and the kids show up WITHOUT ME at Christmas, you can figure it probably has to do with G.A.S. problems!

It’s like being on crack, except louder.