Giordano's in Rosemont, IL (Chicago)

If I blogged for 11 days I couldn't possibly cover all the restaurants, the convention, the hotel, the people, the airport, the fun, the police, the great city of Chicago, my Emerald! I couldn't begin to touch everything that was so incredibly awesome about my new adopted city of Chicago, which of course will have to include the city of Rosemont! Giordano's is one of the great stories that came out of this week's adventures in the Windy City.

I was asked by Dublin Dog to come to the H.H.Backer Show for the purpose of being a speaker/spokesperson. It was awesome. Faith and I stood around the booth for a while, then walked around the 3000+ booths to see everything and everyone we could possibly meet - I have the business cards and the blisters on my feet to prove it too. We met and talked with literally thousands of great people; publishers, manufacturers, boutique owners, buyers, and just people who exhibited their wares like Dublin Dog, who has the best line of collars on the market - seriously. We finally reached a point of near starvation so we waltzed ourselves over the red carpet area and over to the Crown Plaza to grab the car. We took painstaking decisions (Lenny and I, he was Faith's handler, and I'll blog about him tomorrow) to decide which restaurant we needed to visit "this time". We choose Italian food, then we narrowed it down to Giordano's upon another recommendation from a member of the fantastic staff at the Crown Plaza on River Road.

When we were walking into Giordano's it dawned on me that we had forgotten Faith's vest. I had no idea we had left it at the convention. We were dying of hunger, but we couldn't take her in without her therapy vest - or could we? Upon mentioning to the staff that we could order the food and wait outside, maybe taking the food to go -- we were inundated by "No, no, we know Faith!" She's been papers in Chicago, she's been on Oprah of course, and she's in Chicago. She's been in their hearts and lives for years and the staff made us a promise "Not to tell" but they they got on the phones taking pictures, calling friends, and family! Faith just has that effect on people and the people of Chicago are soooooo precious! So gracious was their hospitality, that they gave Faith a little extra cheese to deal with during dinner, and they brought her water in a real silver bowl. Can it get any better? YES!

We got our pizza hand tossed like everyone else, but we got to watch OUR pizza being tossed. It was photographed as all pizza should be, and then produced here for prosperity...I ate that pizza people! It was tooooo good, and I am so happy that I have photos to remember it by. You know I'm kidding, right? Anyway, the people in the restaurant were mainly from the center, the convention center, and we were completely taken by their love and gestures of giving as well. When I flew home I had to by a second piece of luggage to keep all of my presents and samples for Faith and Matrix....toys, food samples, clothes for both, and then the cards! I collected more than 700 cards, and that was from DOWNSTAIRS! I think I got another 200 from up stairs, but I could have filled up 40 business card books probably. There were so many people there - but I digress, this blog was about Giordano's.

I asked the staff to teach me to say their name correctly! I wanted to pronounce it with pride. I can do that now! I can! Just ask. When we left the restaurant we saw a dozen gray squirrels all wanting to get a better look at Faith. I could almost hear their little Italian voices discussing the great pieces of crusts being thrown out back for them, and then their discussion switched to the two-legged dog approaching them. Some stayed, some ran away, some sat up and barked back at her. It was memorialized in film, and in my heart. I can't wait to return with her on "Faith Day" in November. Giordano's is sooooo very cool! Seriously, and the pizza -- perfectly Chicago!

Take TWO! American Airlines Loses Faith For the 2nd Time

It is TRUE! Faith was left in Chicago again, on the tarmack of the O'Hare Airport. I'm being told it was an error, a miscommunication between something called a PROSPECT and American Eagle. I flew on Flight 3975 home from Chicago this afternoon after standing in line for about 1/2 an hour with some of the greatest people in the world. They loved Faith to pieces. The counter ladies at American COULD NOT be better! Absolutely the best of the best - so what happened?

I put Faith in her crate and kissed her good bye, she was flying in the cargo again. Seems when I do that with American she has a problem - I don't know why, or how it could happen - barking luggage should be easy to see, hear, and detect. I even went to the gate (G8) and spoke with a beautiful attendant, who assured me that the dog was being boarded. SHE CHECKED, it was clear that Faith was being boarded, so she had to have passed a least a few check points.

It was a little like a broken record when I arrived in Oklahoma City. (Last time I had arrived in Orlando, but they both start with an "O", and she was sent, this time left, in Chicago. Different song, same result maybe?) Anyway, I get to the baggage claim and there is NO baggage to claim - no dog to hug tonight. She's in the airport at Chicago. I got the call sayin the guy that screwed up was too embarrassed and hurt about it to call me. OK, I understand - I do, I really do understand, mistakes are made, but to NOT put a dog on a plane with a number, a flight scheduled number, one that matches up to a passengers, and it's not like it was a connecting flight...but I am still very hopeful that this can be rectified. I am, I love American, I love the workers, I love the people who have helped us along the way. One guy, not the company, made a mistake - yes, it could be disasterous, but I'm hoping that God sees otherwise.

So, where is my dog? She's on another American flight to Tulsa, 90 miles from my house, because of hail and wind coming into our city. They intend on driving her to me, again in the storm, and again, making it difficult and dangerous, which is something I'm not sure I want for the drivers. I don't want anyone being hurt for this cause - maybe they should have allowed her to stay overnight with one of the girls up front. She would have been cared for like you wouldn't believe! Spoiled beyond all measure for sure. We'll have to see.

I instructed the Oklahoma City PR woman that I want the kids that are driving her home to be sooo extra careful, no fast moves, they're very very important to me too. Faith is my dog, yes, but they are just as important, more so even. Well, long story short - they let me know they were doing all they could. I appreciate it, I love that - I thank American. HOWEVER, we're going to deal with this issue once and for all. Amercian will be asked ONE TIME to agree that Faith flies UP FRONT forever, without cost, and this guarantee will be for the rest of her life. It should show them that I am willing to work with them, and that I trust them. I do. I love American, and want to continue to use them.

I was asked if I wanted the kid fired that screwed up. NO. I want him trained! I hope you'll keep a good eye on your barking luggage too. Always double check to be sure she/he has been loaded and get names of the people on the ramp who are in charge of their handling. This is the reason we're trying to change the laws about flying animals in the cabin if we can afford the chairs and they are well trained.

Thanks for your love and kindness. I have to get off the computer now, bad storms coming!

Maria's of Rosemont! (Chicago)

Goodness doesn't even describe it! We stayed at the Crown Plaza in Rosemont this week while we were at the H H Backer pet trade show. We went downstairs and asked "P.M. Dan", as there are 3 Dans that work for the CP, where we could eat well for a great price. He suggested Maria's on Foster. Just around the corner from the Rosemont Theatre, which was packed tonight, we couldn't get in. We did however make our way to Maria's, and oh...oh.....the food, the people, the music, the love! Some of the people wondered if Faith could take the loud noise, the crowd, the constant hustle and bustle, and my answer was "Watch!" Within seconds she had made so many friends at the bar! She was all over the bar area, being kind and obeying all of the health regulations - she is a dog, a therapy dog, but a dog, and she was so well received at Maria's by the staff and the beautiful patrons who were so gracious and so giving. One man bought Faith her own steak pieces and threw in his cheese soup bowl for her to clean - she was his friend forever!

Interestingly, just last night, we were asked to leave the Gibson's Steakhouse. I'll blog about it later because the contrast was so brilliant! We were asked to leave because Faith was creating a "disturbance" - hello, yes, she does that. We did keep her contained, but hundreds of Backer trade show exhibitors were in town and had seen the ads and had seen the internet news about Faith coming to Chicago for the show - yes, there was a bit of a disturbance; women crying and wanting to hug her, men thanking me, and getting my business card - then, a man asked me to go back to the back of the restaurant because he had a private party he wanted to introduce Faith to. She was his guest! His mother had recently passed away from lung cancer and she had placed Faith's photo on her bedside for encouragement. I was floored, and honored to meet some of his family - but the manager Grace was not so thrilled.

We felt sad for leaving, because it was one of those moments when people were upset about Faith being treated so poorly after she has given so much to so many - but I understood, and I tried to be polite, it was hard to hear exactly what Grace was saying, but I tried to hear and mentioned to her that Faith was actually allowed. We were nice though, we did leave. About an hour later the restaurant called me back - they had left a message with my manager (I had given a patron a card) and he called me to say the manager was sorry and wanted us to return. Well, needless to say, we were already seated for dinner at the Off the Park, just across the lobby at the DoubleTree (O'Hare) and were dining with about 30 others from the Gibson who had decided NOT to eat at the famous steakhouse because of how they treated Faith.

I mean, I sort of accepted it, but they didn't. The ball player that had invited us back paid for his meal and tab - left the restaurant and came to be with us. He said his brother, a 15 year old kid from Cleveland, had been his guest - and was unimpressed with the Gibson's decision. I understand he blogged - which I think is a great way to let out some steam and not be hot-headed. I applaud the kid! This morning, my room was filled with fresh flowers - go figure. Faith has a way of making the world see things from another perspective. I will actually go back to the Gibson to eat, I will - but Maria's has my attention! I have to recommend it, and I have to say thank you, thank you, thank you to P.M. Dan for his fine and precise suggestion!

I love Chicago, absolutely love Chicago - not even that little event will stop me from loving this city fully. Oh, and I enjoyed the flowers too. It was a great way to say "We're sorry". I accept!

Attack of the Killer Chihuahua! (Caity's Fault)

You should have seen it before the great doctor had his go at it! Caity's face had a second mouth carved out of it. So big - so wide was the nasty, monstrous, gash that we teased her for over 6 hours while we sat around the trauma center at the Baptist Integris Hospital waiting to be seen. We almost became Catholics and moved it on over to Mercy, but they were full too. The Methodist hospital, the Presbyterians, even the great Oklahoma University Children's Hospital was full to the brim. Caity, being only 17, still qualifies as a child - she could have been seen at OU had it been a little less busy. Monday night, for whatever reason, was a madhouse in the city of Oklahoma City in terms of accidents, trauma, and physical ailments. Caity added to the mayhem by teasing Laura's little 3 month old Chihuahua named Sayuki to the point of disaster!

We did learn a few things though while waiting in the waiting rooms. We learned to move over when really sick people come in. Suddenly the hallways weren't as bad as they had seemed a few hours previous. We noticed antibacterial and anitillness wipes and liquids all over the ER - red flags being hoisted screaming "Sick People! Sick People!" We covered ourselves a few times, allowing the spearmenty antiseptic to take over and wash us thoroughly clean. Caity, because she's a moron at times, wiped her face with one of the little towelettes, which provided a few more minutes of really cheap entertainment for everyone within earshot of her shrieking in pain from the sting of it all - open wound + antiseptic towelette = dancing child! (Leaping, and hopping dancing child!)

There was that one moment when the fire alarm was pulled and I had to giggle because for once it wasn't my kid! Can you imagine; you're in a crowded ER, the people are waiting and have been waiting, sometimes patiently, sometimes not so patiently, and the fire alarm goes off - no one moved. You'd think we would rather die in a blazing fire than to lose our spot in line - which, if you're familiar with ER procedure means there is no real order, there is not real line that you wait in, and there is no guarantee - as in our case, that we would even be seen in time to do the actual stitching. I was funny though - I walked up to the nurse on call at the triage center and politely explained to her that a dog bite needed to be stitched within the first 8 hours - a bit of information I had been taught from watching Forensic Files and CSI. She smiled.

There was also that moment that my life was threatened because a woman decided to lie to her husband about me, claiming I had spoken rudely to her and their children when I attempted to call out of the hospital to another ER to see if they had room for a dog bite victim (giving them the same CSI informative). The security officer was called - the police after that, and I was asked to step behind the locked doors for the remainder of our wait for our own safety. I was still trying to figure out why I was removed from the regular ER when the doctor's assistant called Caity's name. Caity explained to me why the police were interrogating the man and woman behind me in the waiting room - I thought the man had threatened another man, NO, it was me. I guess I was too busy talking on the phone to hear his ranting. Good thing I'm protected by angels huh? (Step this way please, we don't need you dying in our waiting room tonight.) Being escorted to the back had NOTHING to do with Caity needing stitches but perhaps we could have created a situation hours beforehand! Just kidding.

When the doctor found us we were all huddled in the little room with assistants and nurses that Caity had met on previous occasions. Funny thing really, listening to her say to Jake "I think I met you when I broke my arm", and to Mike "No, I remember, that's when I was poisoned, remember?" That was strange - they all remembered her too. She has been in and out of that same hospital a number of times in the past 2 years; poisoning, a brawl, a broken arm, a sprained foot from dancing in the moshpit, and the busted mouth - same pit, different night. So, here she was with her dog bitten face - we told her the new mouth had it's own uvula - flapping and gory! She kicked me for that one. She decided that telling people the truth was just too embarrassing. She's going with a lie. She's telling people that Paris hit her when Caity stole her boyfriend, and the big fat diamond he bought Paris was driven into flesh, resulting in the gaping hole. Good story.

Morals abound throughout this one - here's the best: Don't tease little dogs with big teeth!

BBQ Bevo! Go Sooners!

No vegetarians need apply at this point. (I love you guys, I really do, I have one of you living with me, but this weekend we're hoping to serve BEEF!)

This weekend is the OU/Texas weekend, and I have to tell you - with last week's nail biting and exhaustively penalized game in Colorado, our boys (and Bob) are probably glad to be out from the mountains and the altitude that quite possibly cost them the National Championship ring. This week, we're on the home front, well - Dallas, not exactly the home front, but so much closer to the breathable air, the red-dirt tactics, and the smell of roasting BEEEEEEEF - Longhorn style! We're looking for a good game. We're looking for a win too - something we were quite used to up until the nasty referees in Colorado decided our catch wasn't a catch, which set up a long drive for the Buffalos - which resulted in a short field goal, and of course...our loss. Just because I'm mean, just because I hate losing, I drove straight to the nearest Buffalo Wild Wings and ordered two boats! ATE THEM ALL and I'm not a wings fan - but it made me feel sooo much better. You can't really go out and eat up a bunch of Sooners even if you had a mind to. You can, and I will, BBQ a piece of steak in honor of the game....call it Bevo!

My prediction? Oh...let's see; we lost to Colorado, a team that always shows up for us. Texas lost to Kansas State who seems to like to smack us from time to time too - we're evenly matched, equally manned and well - we're playing in the middle so that everyone can really feel as if they have a bit of that home field advantage. One of the things we do when we go to the game is take a bit of dirt from the North side of the Red River to pour under our feet - sometimes on the field if we can get close enough - just you know...to be that much closer to home. I think we'll win this one. I think it will be a great, exciting, punch-my-friend-in-the-ribs-for-doubting-us kind of close, and I think it will be fun for anyone who isn't a fan. We, the fans, both the Sooners and the Longhorn fans, we don't like close - we don't like tight. We don't like give-and-take games, but that is my prediction.

With one of the best defenses in the country on our side, and one of the best on theirs it would appear that we'll have a lower scoring game. I just hope at the end of the game - less than 25 hours from now, that that scoreboard is lit up in Crimson and Cream! OU 24 Texas 13

Will Dance for Money! (Cardboard Sign)

I couldn't quite make out the sign as I drove past the girl holding it. She looked familiar to me, she was wearing clothes that allowed her to swish and sway as she leapt into air while standing on the corner of a rather busy highway. Her ankles, I could see, were covered with hemp and bead wraps, and her hair actually had homemade extensions made of wild and colorful beads as well. I drove back by just to see her again.

"Will Dance for Money" the sign read. She was happily doing so without being paid as it appeared. She was dancing, smiling, laughing, and just hoping someone would stop and give her a dollar or two. I could just see a cop pulling up and asking her if dancing was all she was planning on doing for the money - this young little sprite would no doubt hide her sign and say she wasn't soliciting, she was just having a great time on a warm and beautiful fall afternoon. As I drove by I used my right hand to dig around in my spacious purse for a few bills that could be reached easily. I could manage to find them, fold them, and pull them out of my purse while I drove, and I could also keep an eye on the traffic light, judging when it would be turning red or amber so I could slow down to pay the tiny dancer.

As I slowed my car to the edge of her domain I wasn't the least bit surprised to see her recognize what it was that I was doing. My window came down and she could clearly see my hand extended with cash. The child jumped to her feet, shimmied up to my car and gladly grasped my extended hand with both of hers. I could see (and hear) at that point, that her hands and wrists were amply supplied with bells, and little bobbles to shake and make extra tidbits of noise. She thanked me warmly. She greeted me with a friendly kiss and then I was blessed to hear her say to me "Mom, thank you! You are so sweet to come back so many times to help me. Can I have the car later on, I think I have enough gas money now!"

At least she's ambitious! How could I say no?

They are Called Freshmen For a Reason!

I barely survived my son's freshmen year in college. He was suppose to be a walk-on at the GREAT University of Oklahoma, where his fantastic skills at football were all but guaranteed to win him a position on the team. You know, the 7-time National Football Champion team of the Oklahoma Sooners...that team. Didn't happen. The boy had an academic disadvantage - he only got a 1.7 GPA. Seems the GREAT university would have to wait on his more physical skills while he sharpened up the pencils at the local community college. He did sharpen his skills, and he did actually pass, but boy-oh-boy I felt like pulling my hair out with every twist and turn of his enrollment, his acceptance, his pell grant application, his failure to turn in this sheet of paper, or his failure to sign that piece. I made it a point every single semester (to my own students) to be sure and write out a declaration that every single freshmen have at least one real adult that I can discuss things with because I just seem to get the message of how to enroll and stay enrolled through to the more experienced members of the family!

My girls, and I say this with all love, honor, and respect, are NO different than my son, or any other Freshmen on any other campus when it comes to making silly and needless mistakes in the Finanical Aid Department, the testing center, not bringing their school i.d. to class and being asked to leave the campus, or it may be that they simply didn't bring their books to school - again. FRESHMEN drive me crazy! It's as if they wake up and write out long lists of what they can do to really get me going - and not in a good way.

Caity, for instance, lost her i.d. Not only did she lose it, she lost her back up and her state i.d. as well - probably not so much lost as it was just under the couch or something. I had to drive to the vital records to get a birth certificate to prove she's alive. No picture, but it proves she was born. Laura couldn't be outdone by her sister, so she promptly left all of her study materials and books at home the next time class met, and this was the class she actually decided to attend on a regular basis. That's right, I got the notice in the mail - or actually Laura did, but YES I opened it and read it. I do that, I call first of course, but threatened to withhold food if they decline my nosy Momness. She was being academically withdrawn for not attending a particular class - why? Why? Because she wasn't interested in it after the first meeting. FRESHMEN! We're paying for it of course, it won't count for or against her, but we're paying for it.

So, where does this leave me? Well, I'm still sane. I decided to drag the two of them from department to department in the school, forcing them to pull the earbuds out of their heads, forcing them to speak face to face with office personnel, and from time to time I almost felt as if I was pulling a string on Laura's back to make her mouth move. I remember nodding my head, shaking my head, using sign language, and opening my eyes UP REALLY WIDE to make an emphasised POINT over this or that issue. They got it through their collective heads - you must go to class, you must pay your bills, you must do the work, you must show up on time, you must have your work, you must have your i.d., and if you're required to, you will test, and you test until you get it done!

Welcome to adulthood - one kicking kid at a time. What happened to my plan to emancipate these two? Oh yeah, I remember, they decided that being adults wasn't as fun as they thought it was going to be. I let them live on their own this summer. I should have taken the opportunity to move...instead, I volunteered to be their parent for another year. Please pray for me. Thanks.

To Pay or Not to Pay (Ebay) - Question!

When you're sitting there minding your own business; as I do so often, and someone writes you to remind you that you haven't made a payment on something you didn't buy, nor did you authorize someone else to buy - do you pay it? That's a good question. I'm being bombarded today by a manic woman in Australia who is insistant that I purhased, or agreed to purchase a couple of ladies tops. Tops, I might add are adorable, and I may very well purchase them just because I think I'd like them, but I wonder - did she (or someone she knows) actually use my account information to bid on "like" things that I have purchased in the past?

I'm not without integrity, I'm actually full of morals really, and if I had bid or purchased the items in question I would have known first of all, and I would have paid for them through paypal immediately! The fact that she is writing to say that I haven't paid is a red flag for me. I always pay immediately, and I always use paypal. So, this bit of information (as well as other well defined evidence) proves to me anyway, that I am being set up. I still may purchase the tops, they are adorable, but I won't use my paypal to do it. I think if I did the woman (or someone she knows) may be able to dig the numbers up and use them at will - thus causing an endless flow of merchandise arriving at my door that I not only love but would have a hard time returning since they come from so far away - and I'm sure the seller would insist that each time I had actually been the bidder.

What I find to be odd is the behavior of the woman. She's written to me daily, and she's berating me, constantly attacking my ethics, my integrity, and what she says is my duty. (Keep in mind she's all up in the air over less than $12.00 - and I even offered to 1. Pay for the relisting, and 2. change my passwords) She's going on and on about this, and I can't help but think she's a cyber grifter - a con, but I won't SAY she is, as I don't want to accuse. What to do? What would you do? I thought I would pay for the first item, and let her know that I would never again pay for something I didn't purchase. I will change my passwords of course, and I will be sure to pay her through other means, not through PayPal.

Wow...you know, if it had been something really ugly, or something that didn't fit (such as the Chicago Cubs Ladies' Medium top that I really really really wanted, and it couldn't fit my size 00 kid properly) I would have said NO straight out, but I'm telling you, if she is a grifter, she does her homework. I may hire her to do my interior decorating too - if she feels I have enough integrity to do so!

Hey - Ebay sellers, don't believe every bid these days. If someone can hack into mine they can hack into anyone's, and you may be left in the cold without payment. Sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, the buyers really do tell the truth! I make it a habit to ONLY buy from sellers who have sold more than 200 items and have 99% positive feedback. Just cuts down on .....what's that....ohhhhhh, I like this. Pretty! Oops, no the seller hasn't sold anything else. Nope, not going to happen! Move on, move on.

Another Two-Legged Mutt! I Love it!

Faith has been so blessed to have been the subject of so many websites and articles about her courage, strength and of course her faith in herself. She is NOT alone folks! Here is the website (just e-mailed to me) from a man in France who found it and felt heart led to share it with me. I don't know the owners of this particular wonder, but she is an amazing dog like Faith. Unlike Faith this puppy (named Sugar) has front legs and no back legs. I see this occurring in many dogs actually, it's not rare - just a bit uncommon. Dogs without backlegs can survive very well with the help of the wheelchairs and/or carts you'll see in the video which I have attached.

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2uuay_le-chien-a-2-pattes_animals (just cut and paste)

Sugar has adapted so well, and so naturally that you wouldn't know she was walking without her backlegs. She doesn't always want or use her cart, she jumps and plays with other animals like any other dog - even more gentle with cats than most. She's seen in the video literally mouthing a little kitten and taking it back to her bed to nose and love on it. I was touched by how much she resembled Faith in many ways not only in sight. She has the same sweet face, the same gentle way about her that invites people and animals to play with her. To be honest, Sugar seems much more approachable than Faith as Faith seems to shy at first and cotton up to strangers a little later, after she's had time to sniff around and be sure that she won't be hurt. Faith, like Sugar, can't run away as fast as other dogs - so there's a little wiggle room on the hugging and grabbing. But they both smile and love from the heart.

Can you imagine if we were asked to be so adaptable. Some of us are. Our soldiers are asked to put their lives on the line every day for us. Officers of the law, firemen, anyone in protective services could, at any moment, be faced with the real expectation of having to deal with the loss of limbs; and of course, you and I could be the victim of an accident or illness that would require us to make life challenging and changing decisions about what we would do to survive and to thrive. Well, I hope, and I pray that nothing like that ever happens to us - but if it does, there is hope. There are at least 200 examples of animals online without all four legs and there is a wonderful site for humans who have lost limbs, or who were born without limbs. It is: www.lessthanfour.com a site dedicated to helping and supporting humans (and yes, Faith joined) who are amputees.

Please visit these two listed sites, the website for Less Than Four as well as the video for Sugar! Here is the link again:

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2uuay_le-chien-a-2-pattes_animals

You'll be so happy! You can't help but smile and say blessings for those you love.

Top Secret Mission of the United States Army

No, don't even think it. I would SOOO not give out any information regarding any mission whatsoever involving our armed forces. I only wrote that to get your attention, and obviously it did. However, I will tell you a funny little story about one of the members of the United States Army. He happens to be stationed in Fairbanks, Alaska - which is not a secret, and this particular soldier is ready, willing and able to perform just about any duty he's called upon to perform; with the exception of firing a gun right now because one of his arms is still in a sling while the other hand is wrapped up from injuring it trying to catch rebar with one hand.

I'm told by this soldier (because he calls me several times a week) that he doesn't let the sling covering his right arm to slow him down too much when it comes to playing basketball or steering a tank. It does however become affected when it comes time to clean his room, make a bunk, pack his wares, or when he's required to write something with an actual writing utensil. Give the boy a pen and he's lost, give him a keyboard and he's able to peck and punch using his toes and nose if he has to, he will not miss out on any MySpacing simply because of an arm injury. What comes to mind when I think of my son wearing his arm sling over his right arm and holding his injured left hand up in the air to stop the throbbing is the Black Knight from the hit comedy "Monty Python and the Holy Grail". Do you remember the poor, disadvantaged King as he approached the Black Knight? How the Black Knight (at the hand of the disadvantaged King) suffered severe wounds both to his arms and then to his legs? The brave Knight continued his quest to protect his post by demanding that the King come down off his horse and to face him (the Knight) like a man! The Knight demanded also that he come close enough so that he could bite the King if necessary...it was, afterall, only a flesh wound!

My Baby Boy, Private First Class Reuben Stringfellow is (if nothing else) going to communicate with his Top 8 and anyone else willing to listen to his war stories full of glory and gore; and/or moose and northern lights, cooler weather, and the fact that he may or may not come home for the holidays because he has to protect them. They should understand! He expects me to understand this too, and where I do, and where I know he is the bravest, most noble of the Stryker tank drivers EVER to be trained by our Army, he is my little boy and I haven't hugged and kissed him in almost 9 months. It may very well be that I don't see him for another 15 months if he goes away like he thinks he will - and that would be just a little too long for a mom to have to understand...but in times like these I think of Mrs. Potter. Mrs. Potter was Col. Potter's wife, whose portrait sat on his desk for all those years he was in the fictious war on M*A*S*H. Season after season she sat there without complaining and each and every morning the Col. would stand and salute his adoring and loving wife. I will have to send my boy a little pocket photo of me so that he can pull it out and burp for me....not quite the same as a salute, but to me, music! Sheer symphony! If I can hear him belch out a really good one, I know everything down in that body of my son's is working just fine!

OK, I can let you in on one big, unknown secret that the U.S. Army has been keeping hidden away from the rest of the world for years. Reuben told me this just the other day. It is believed that someone up on The Hill is considering selling Alaska back to the Russians and letting them deal with the frozen coffee and the gull-sized misquitos. Shhhhhh, you didn't hear it from me.