Today, I am the mother of a teenage boy. I am both excited and terrified and also very, very weepy.
Thirteen years ago, my life was turned upside down when after nine months, fifty-pounds (damn Kraft Macaroni and Cheese) and 19 hours of labor, Larry said to me "Oh Baby! He's here!"
Connor Ethan Lawrence entered the world - all 8lbs 2oz of him - on March 15th, 1999. Larry got to hold Connor first, then they cleaned him up and after a few moments, I was handed a baby and instantly became someone's mother.
And he was gorgeous. I fell totally in love.
After everyone had gone home for the night and it was me and him alone in the hospital, I was overwhelmed with the knowledge that Larry and I were responsible for raising this brand new baby into a kind, loving, productive member of society. Honestly, I wasn't sure I was even those things so how the hell was I gonna be that example for someone else. I got out of the hospital bed and picked Connor up from the baby box (they called it a bassinet but really people - it was more like a shopping cart) and tucked him into bed with me. And I stared at him all night.
And then someone hit the fast forward button. We came home from the hospital and began to experience and document every milestone (we spent a small fortune developing film). Larry and I were constantly (and still are) amazed at the fact that this wonder was the product of the two of us.
Since March 15, 1999, we have watched this wonder move through the Elmo phase, the Matchbox phase, the Thomas the Tank Engine phase, the Rescue Hero phase, the Pirate phase, the Star Wars phase, and into the Gamer phase. What will be next?
The last few weeks I have been terribly weepy and nostalgic - missing my baby. Yet, I am also very excited to see the person he is becoming and to watch him navigate the waters of young adulthood.
Happy 13th Birthday to the reason I am a mother, the person who took us from a couple to a family and to my inspiration to be a better person.
What a lucky mom I am.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Sleepless in the Big Easy
I turned 45 last week. And I am a big believer in the phrases - "age ain't nothing but a number" and "you're only as old as you feel." Most days I am not even aware of how old I am - but something happened recently that made me feel old.
I have been in New Orleans for the past three days. This is my first visit to the city and my hotel is right in the heart of the French Quarter at the corner of Bourbon and Bienville. You just can't get any more in the middle of it all.
After I checked into my hotel on Sunday, I went out for a quick stroll and then off for a meal. After dinner, things were already heating up in the French Quarter. People were spilling out of bars, music from one establishment was competing against music from another. Booze was flowing. It was everything I had ever imagined about New Orleans.
And then I went back to my room to settle in and prep for work on Monday morning. The noise level seemed to be going way past any measurable level. I figured - "Hey, it's to be expected, I am in the middle of the French Quarter. Laissez les bons temps rouler." I finished my prep work for the next day and watched a little TV and then got ready for bed around 11:30. As I was winding down, New Orleans was winding up.
Random loud screams came from men and women on the street below my window. Competing musical styles emanated from the multiple bars along the block. A steady, loud hum of conversation came through the floor from the wine bar just below my room. Stumbling, sloppy drunks trooped up and down the halls - lost - looking for their rooms. I lay in my bed, earplugs in, and a pillow over my head. It's cool. I can roll with this.
And then I couldn't.
At 2:00am I got up, walked to the front desk and said, "I thought I could do it. I thought I could handle the noise. But, I can't. I'm an old lady. I need my beauty sleep. Please move me to another room." I was nice about it. I did not lose my temper. But I needed a new room - stat. The hotel accommodated my request and I moved to a room that was one floor up and a little further from Bourbon Street. It was still not quiet but it was quieter. Finally, the bars closed and I was able to fall asleep at 5:00am.
Only to be awakened by the street sanitizing trucks at 5:30am. (Note: Do not wear open-toed shoes, sandals or flip-flops on the streets of the French Quarter after 5:00pm. Whatever you think about when you hear the phrase street sanitizing - you're correct.)
Finally at 7:00am on Monday morning, I gave up the idea of sleep, got up, and went to work.
Wait. I was put out by noise? Annoyed by the whooping it up of the people on the street below? How could that be? If this was 25 years ago, I would have been one of the loud, stumbling drunks keeping some 45-year old lady awake.
And in that moment, I felt very, very old.
Peace.
Tee
I have been in New Orleans for the past three days. This is my first visit to the city and my hotel is right in the heart of the French Quarter at the corner of Bourbon and Bienville. You just can't get any more in the middle of it all.
After I checked into my hotel on Sunday, I went out for a quick stroll and then off for a meal. After dinner, things were already heating up in the French Quarter. People were spilling out of bars, music from one establishment was competing against music from another. Booze was flowing. It was everything I had ever imagined about New Orleans.
And then I went back to my room to settle in and prep for work on Monday morning. The noise level seemed to be going way past any measurable level. I figured - "Hey, it's to be expected, I am in the middle of the French Quarter. Laissez les bons temps rouler." I finished my prep work for the next day and watched a little TV and then got ready for bed around 11:30. As I was winding down, New Orleans was winding up.
Random loud screams came from men and women on the street below my window. Competing musical styles emanated from the multiple bars along the block. A steady, loud hum of conversation came through the floor from the wine bar just below my room. Stumbling, sloppy drunks trooped up and down the halls - lost - looking for their rooms. I lay in my bed, earplugs in, and a pillow over my head. It's cool. I can roll with this.
And then I couldn't.
At 2:00am I got up, walked to the front desk and said, "I thought I could do it. I thought I could handle the noise. But, I can't. I'm an old lady. I need my beauty sleep. Please move me to another room." I was nice about it. I did not lose my temper. But I needed a new room - stat. The hotel accommodated my request and I moved to a room that was one floor up and a little further from Bourbon Street. It was still not quiet but it was quieter. Finally, the bars closed and I was able to fall asleep at 5:00am.
Only to be awakened by the street sanitizing trucks at 5:30am. (Note: Do not wear open-toed shoes, sandals or flip-flops on the streets of the French Quarter after 5:00pm. Whatever you think about when you hear the phrase street sanitizing - you're correct.)
Finally at 7:00am on Monday morning, I gave up the idea of sleep, got up, and went to work.
Wait. I was put out by noise? Annoyed by the whooping it up of the people on the street below? How could that be? If this was 25 years ago, I would have been one of the loud, stumbling drunks keeping some 45-year old lady awake.
And in that moment, I felt very, very old.
Peace.
Tee
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Two Questions
I love to talk to people. Perhaps it's the television producer in me but when I meet someone new, I tend to want to find out as much about them as possible. When I was younger I wanted to be like Barbara Walters - she had conversations for a living. How cool! (although, last night's list of most interesting people of the year stopped after Eric Stonestreet and Jesse Tyler Ferguson. The Khardashians? Simon Cowell? Barbara, you might be going soft.)
Two of my favorite questions to ask people are:
What is your motto? and
What one person could come to your door and ask you to run away with them and you would?
I always say that my motto is "Life is too short to drink cheap booze". Most people laugh when I say that. And it is kind of silly. But if you look beyond the silliness, what I am trying to say is that Life is too short to (and you can fill in the blank). I believe every day is a gift and so many of us waste them in careers they hate, in marriages that are unhappy, in self loathing because they are (again fill in the blank), in giving away their power to someone else. The older I get, and the more it is proved to me in my own life, the more I realize that if you step out in faith - whether it be in God, the Universe, Yourself - your path to change will reveal itself. Stepping out in faith feels hard but life really is too short. And as things in my world shift and change, stepping out in faith is staring at me very intently. I sense a leap in my not-to-distant future.
As to who you would run away with - people are often shocked when I ask them that question.
"Run away?"
"Can I take my kids?"
"Can I take my husband/wife/partner?"
Ummm DUH - NO! That is the whole purpose of running away. The question is about stepping outside of your reality for a minute. It's about fantasizing. It's interesting to think about why you would choose that person. It's about fun. But a lot of people I talk to can't answer the question.
"I could NEVER leave my kids!"
"My life is perfect why would I want to run away?"
I ADORE my husband and kids but if a certain someone knocked at my door and said -"Run away with me." I would go.
The fun part is that you know it will never happen. Even more fun is to think about the reasons why you chose that person - are they deep and thoughtful? Shallow? Crazy? Or a combination?
And so you ask, who is my "chuck it all" person? I have always been able to answer the question without hesitation. If the doorbell rang and I opened the door and Bono was standing there - I would be gone.
What is your motto?
Who is your "chuck it all" person?
Peace.
Tee
Two of my favorite questions to ask people are:
What is your motto? and
What one person could come to your door and ask you to run away with them and you would?
I always say that my motto is "Life is too short to drink cheap booze". Most people laugh when I say that. And it is kind of silly. But if you look beyond the silliness, what I am trying to say is that Life is too short to (and you can fill in the blank). I believe every day is a gift and so many of us waste them in careers they hate, in marriages that are unhappy, in self loathing because they are (again fill in the blank), in giving away their power to someone else. The older I get, and the more it is proved to me in my own life, the more I realize that if you step out in faith - whether it be in God, the Universe, Yourself - your path to change will reveal itself. Stepping out in faith feels hard but life really is too short. And as things in my world shift and change, stepping out in faith is staring at me very intently. I sense a leap in my not-to-distant future.
As to who you would run away with - people are often shocked when I ask them that question.
"Run away?"
"Can I take my kids?"
"Can I take my husband/wife/partner?"
Ummm DUH - NO! That is the whole purpose of running away. The question is about stepping outside of your reality for a minute. It's about fantasizing. It's interesting to think about why you would choose that person. It's about fun. But a lot of people I talk to can't answer the question.
"I could NEVER leave my kids!"
"My life is perfect why would I want to run away?"
I ADORE my husband and kids but if a certain someone knocked at my door and said -"Run away with me." I would go.
The fun part is that you know it will never happen. Even more fun is to think about the reasons why you chose that person - are they deep and thoughtful? Shallow? Crazy? Or a combination?
And so you ask, who is my "chuck it all" person? I have always been able to answer the question without hesitation. If the doorbell rang and I opened the door and Bono was standing there - I would be gone.
What is your motto?
Who is your "chuck it all" person?
Peace.
Tee
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
I am just home from a weekend in the OBX with my girlfriends from high school. What can I say about the weekend. Here's a good place to start:
This past weekend I reconnected with 11 women with whom I have many shared memories. But these memories were old, dusty, and a little dim. Gradually, over the days we spent together, we blew the dust off of those memories, shined them up and experienced them all over again. Some were sad but most were terribly funny and even a little mortifying. These were the experiences of girls - relived by women.
Although visiting the 1980's again was fun, what was more important was what we shared as we reconnected.
Sitting in a circle on the beach, around the dinner table, draped over the sofas in the living room, we set about the business of learning about the women we had grown into from the girls we once were. We learned about strong marriages, the pain of divorce, the joys and frustrations of motherhood (we had 26 kids between us - and two furry kids), the loss of parents, balancing career and family, sharing dreams and challenges, and on and on.
We also did an amazing job of creating new memories - jello shooters (are you ever too old for jello shooters??), walks on the beach, cooking together, shopping trips, running together, swapping advice, dancing, playing games, and goofing off. Looking at the pictures from the weekend, my face hurts again from laughing so much. For a short few days, we shed the roles that define our everyday lives and slipped into a carefree, silly existence. GD-SOB - We were girls again!
There really is nothing quite like a strong, supportive network of women whose roots run deep. I count these amazing women among my life's greatest blessings.
I love my Rocker Chix!
Love,
Tee
This past weekend I reconnected with 11 women with whom I have many shared memories. But these memories were old, dusty, and a little dim. Gradually, over the days we spent together, we blew the dust off of those memories, shined them up and experienced them all over again. Some were sad but most were terribly funny and even a little mortifying. These were the experiences of girls - relived by women.
Although visiting the 1980's again was fun, what was more important was what we shared as we reconnected.
Sitting in a circle on the beach, around the dinner table, draped over the sofas in the living room, we set about the business of learning about the women we had grown into from the girls we once were. We learned about strong marriages, the pain of divorce, the joys and frustrations of motherhood (we had 26 kids between us - and two furry kids), the loss of parents, balancing career and family, sharing dreams and challenges, and on and on.
We also did an amazing job of creating new memories - jello shooters (are you ever too old for jello shooters??), walks on the beach, cooking together, shopping trips, running together, swapping advice, dancing, playing games, and goofing off. Looking at the pictures from the weekend, my face hurts again from laughing so much. For a short few days, we shed the roles that define our everyday lives and slipped into a carefree, silly existence. GD-SOB - We were girls again!
There really is nothing quite like a strong, supportive network of women whose roots run deep. I count these amazing women among my life's greatest blessings.
I love my Rocker Chix!
Tee
Monday, November 14, 2011
It's a Marathon - Not a Sprint
This past weekend, I completed the Outer Banks Flying Pirate Half Marathon. I have not ran or trained with any real commitment for at least three months. My life has been busy and I have let my running fall to the bottom of the priority list. I hate when that happens because running is so important to my physical and mental health.
My friend Robin was already registered for the Half and I was more than happy to be her cheering section. Robin said - "Do it with me." I thought about it and a little voice inside told me to go for it. So, I agreed to do the race with her.
Race day in the OBX was gorgeous. 60 degrees with a light breeze. It was a perfect day for a run. We started the run and I felt good for the first five miles - and then I began to feel the effects of not training. But I was enjoying the scenery and catching up with Robin so I pressed on. Soon we were at mile 9 and the "bridge". It seems that a lot of races look for the bridge that has a long, low, ass-whooping climb and sell that as the tough spot. This bridge lived up to the tough spot designation.
We made it to the top of the bridge and then I started feeling the effects of runner's tummy. I won't go into any descriptions of runner's tummy since most of you can imagine what a case of runner's tummy might look like. I was convinced that if I took another step, things would not be pretty. Robin is a personal trainer. And she is good at her job. She was trying to support me and help me move past the way I was feeling. Then I turned into a crazy person and told her to get me some help. And because she is a good friend and she loves me - off she ran.
I sank to my knees and then sat down on the bridge, ate a gel supplement and tried to settle my tummy. So many other runners stopped to help me - Runners are the BEST community of people. I am grateful to them.
While I was waiting for Robin, I started talking to myself - which I do a lot. I told myself - "Get off your ass and finish this race. Get out of your head. This is about finishing what you start. You are not a quitter." After about five or so minutes, I stood up and started walking off the bridge. I ran into Robin who was coming back for me and told her that my quitting was not an option. So off we went. Once we made it off of the bridge, there was only 2.1 miles to go. I could not give up. Robin ran ahead to finish faster. And I pressed on.
This has been the year of reminding myself of all that is possible; of all that can be accomplished with the right attitude. It started in January with the Penguin Plunge and has manifested in ways both big and small throughout the year.
Step by step - running and walking the last two miles - I finished the Outer Banks Flying Pirate Half Marathon.
Life and everything about it, really is a marathon and not a sprint - and it's worth every single step.
My friend Robin was already registered for the Half and I was more than happy to be her cheering section. Robin said - "Do it with me." I thought about it and a little voice inside told me to go for it. So, I agreed to do the race with her.
Race day in the OBX was gorgeous. 60 degrees with a light breeze. It was a perfect day for a run. We started the run and I felt good for the first five miles - and then I began to feel the effects of not training. But I was enjoying the scenery and catching up with Robin so I pressed on. Soon we were at mile 9 and the "bridge". It seems that a lot of races look for the bridge that has a long, low, ass-whooping climb and sell that as the tough spot. This bridge lived up to the tough spot designation.
We made it to the top of the bridge and then I started feeling the effects of runner's tummy. I won't go into any descriptions of runner's tummy since most of you can imagine what a case of runner's tummy might look like. I was convinced that if I took another step, things would not be pretty. Robin is a personal trainer. And she is good at her job. She was trying to support me and help me move past the way I was feeling. Then I turned into a crazy person and told her to get me some help. And because she is a good friend and she loves me - off she ran.
I sank to my knees and then sat down on the bridge, ate a gel supplement and tried to settle my tummy. So many other runners stopped to help me - Runners are the BEST community of people. I am grateful to them.
While I was waiting for Robin, I started talking to myself - which I do a lot. I told myself - "Get off your ass and finish this race. Get out of your head. This is about finishing what you start. You are not a quitter." After about five or so minutes, I stood up and started walking off the bridge. I ran into Robin who was coming back for me and told her that my quitting was not an option. So off we went. Once we made it off of the bridge, there was only 2.1 miles to go. I could not give up. Robin ran ahead to finish faster. And I pressed on.
This has been the year of reminding myself of all that is possible; of all that can be accomplished with the right attitude. It started in January with the Penguin Plunge and has manifested in ways both big and small throughout the year.
Step by step - running and walking the last two miles - I finished the Outer Banks Flying Pirate Half Marathon.
Life and everything about it, really is a marathon and not a sprint - and it's worth every single step.
 |
| Robin and Me celebrating our OBX Flying Pirate Half Marathon Finish |
Friday, October 14, 2011
They'll Take You There
I recently posted a link on FB for the video of "What I Am" by Edie Brickell and New Bohemians. I posted about how when I heard the song on the radio, it was like time travel and I was transported back to my days at University of Maryland and to nights spent drinking pitchers at the Vous. Come to think of it, the Vous has it's own soundtrack, which is a playlist worth putting together.
I love music - I have been singing since I can remember. I don't always sing well, but I always sing. Songs are such incredible markers for high and low lights on life path.
The first song I knew all of the words to was "Leavin' on a Jet Plane" by Peter, Paul, and Mary. I remember standing in the back seat of my grandparent's car (remember when you could stand and straddle the hump while holding on to the headrests???) and belting out the lyrics - as much as a 4-year old could manage to belt.
I sang in chorus and in Acapella Choir from the third grade throughout high school. My high school choral teacher was one of kind and fostered a love of music and of singing and an understanding of the emotional and transformative power of music for a generation of kids. RIP - JBK.
My mother could sing and she had an amazing collection of Motown and R&B vinyl and she would put stacks of records on the record player and we'd listen to the Supremes, The Temptations, The Four Tops. Motown makes me think of elementary school.
"There's No One Like You" by the Scorpions is the first song a guy ever bought for me. I still have the album. When I hear it, I am young, awkward and completely clueless about this whole love thing.
When I hear "Like a Virgin", I am transported back to my living room where we were watching Madonna writhe around on the stage during her performance - and the audience wasn't quite sure how to respond. The definition of live performance was re-written in that moment.
Frankie Goes to Hollywood transports me back to 1985. I'm leaving for college. I'm excited. But Frankie keeps reminding me to "Relax."
Echo and the Bunnymen's "Lips Like Sugar" and any Led Zeppelin song makes me think of hanging out at #5 in Danny G.'s room and drinking Bartles and James. Still love Led Zep and Danny G. but the thought of a B&J makes me wanna throw up.
Lisa Stansfield's "Been Around the World" reminds me of a love lost and "Unchained Melody" of a love found.
And Adele's album 21 - Sheesh. If that album had come out 25 years ago, I would have never left my apartment.
When it comes to music, I am happy to travel to wherever it wants to take me.
And, please. Make it go to 11.
Peace.
Tee
I love music - I have been singing since I can remember. I don't always sing well, but I always sing. Songs are such incredible markers for high and low lights on life path.
The first song I knew all of the words to was "Leavin' on a Jet Plane" by Peter, Paul, and Mary. I remember standing in the back seat of my grandparent's car (remember when you could stand and straddle the hump while holding on to the headrests???) and belting out the lyrics - as much as a 4-year old could manage to belt.
I sang in chorus and in Acapella Choir from the third grade throughout high school. My high school choral teacher was one of kind and fostered a love of music and of singing and an understanding of the emotional and transformative power of music for a generation of kids. RIP - JBK.
My mother could sing and she had an amazing collection of Motown and R&B vinyl and she would put stacks of records on the record player and we'd listen to the Supremes, The Temptations, The Four Tops. Motown makes me think of elementary school.
"There's No One Like You" by the Scorpions is the first song a guy ever bought for me. I still have the album. When I hear it, I am young, awkward and completely clueless about this whole love thing.
When I hear "Like a Virgin", I am transported back to my living room where we were watching Madonna writhe around on the stage during her performance - and the audience wasn't quite sure how to respond. The definition of live performance was re-written in that moment.
Frankie Goes to Hollywood transports me back to 1985. I'm leaving for college. I'm excited. But Frankie keeps reminding me to "Relax."
Echo and the Bunnymen's "Lips Like Sugar" and any Led Zeppelin song makes me think of hanging out at #5 in Danny G.'s room and drinking Bartles and James. Still love Led Zep and Danny G. but the thought of a B&J makes me wanna throw up.
Lisa Stansfield's "Been Around the World" reminds me of a love lost and "Unchained Melody" of a love found.
And Adele's album 21 - Sheesh. If that album had come out 25 years ago, I would have never left my apartment.
When it comes to music, I am happy to travel to wherever it wants to take me.
And, please. Make it go to 11.
Peace.
Tee
Friday, September 2, 2011
Cheating on My First Love
Reading and books were my first love. I can remember my Grandmother Woodward and my Grandma Margaret bragging to anyone who would listen, that I could read the newspaper before I started kindergarten. Some of my earliest memories are of using my MomMom Eyet's manual typewriter to peck out "stories" for my family to read. I would spend every summer under the lilac tree in our back yard reading stack after stack of books - escaping from my world into theirs.
To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life. ~W. Somerset Maugham
Books have a soul. They become alive in your hands as you fall into the wonderful stories woven into the pages. There have been many, many times where I have cried because a book ended (Time Traveler's Wife). When books are stacked five or six high on your nightstand, they are friends, waiting patiently for you to steal a few minutes from your life and spend it with them. I unabashedly love them.
Books let us into their souls and lay open to us the secrets of our own. ~William Hazlitt
But I am cheating on them - with a Kindle.
Several years ago when Kindle first came out, I thought - how can you read that way? It was really foreign to me. And then last year, I thought, maybe a Kindle might make sense. I travel a fair amount and even on short trips I have multiple books in my bag so I thought a Kindle would help lighten the load and there would be more room in my suitcase for shoes (my other love). But, I didn't buy one. I just couldn't do it to the stack of lovelies beside my bed.
And then, this past July, at our office summer outing - I won a Kindle during our prize raffle.
I took the Kindle home and took it out of the box. It was very light and fit into my purse (!). But, there was no way this slim piece of plastic had a soul. I downloaded my first book - The Help - and began to read. I was aware of the lack of pages- a subtle push with my thumb and the page turned. I could highlight passages without wandering around looking for a highlighter. When I was done reading The Help, I wanted to read One Day. I downloaded the book in less than two minutes. No trip to the bookstore. And I downloaded Scrabble (to which I am addicted) and Blackjack and a Hangman game for the kids.
So many people said to me "You are going to LOVE your Kindle." I like my Kindle. I appreciate the fact that when I travel I have multiple books and games all in my purse. But I can't honestly say that I love it. I love books. I always have and I always will. But, after more than 40 years, I may need to move on from this first love and into a marriage of convenience.
A good book on your shelf is a friend that turns its back on you and remains a friend. ~Author Unknown
Peace.
Tee
To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life. ~W. Somerset Maugham
Books have a soul. They become alive in your hands as you fall into the wonderful stories woven into the pages. There have been many, many times where I have cried because a book ended (Time Traveler's Wife). When books are stacked five or six high on your nightstand, they are friends, waiting patiently for you to steal a few minutes from your life and spend it with them. I unabashedly love them.
Books let us into their souls and lay open to us the secrets of our own. ~William Hazlitt
But I am cheating on them - with a Kindle.
Several years ago when Kindle first came out, I thought - how can you read that way? It was really foreign to me. And then last year, I thought, maybe a Kindle might make sense. I travel a fair amount and even on short trips I have multiple books in my bag so I thought a Kindle would help lighten the load and there would be more room in my suitcase for shoes (my other love). But, I didn't buy one. I just couldn't do it to the stack of lovelies beside my bed.
And then, this past July, at our office summer outing - I won a Kindle during our prize raffle.
I took the Kindle home and took it out of the box. It was very light and fit into my purse (!). But, there was no way this slim piece of plastic had a soul. I downloaded my first book - The Help - and began to read. I was aware of the lack of pages- a subtle push with my thumb and the page turned. I could highlight passages without wandering around looking for a highlighter. When I was done reading The Help, I wanted to read One Day. I downloaded the book in less than two minutes. No trip to the bookstore. And I downloaded Scrabble (to which I am addicted) and Blackjack and a Hangman game for the kids.
So many people said to me "You are going to LOVE your Kindle." I like my Kindle. I appreciate the fact that when I travel I have multiple books and games all in my purse. But I can't honestly say that I love it. I love books. I always have and I always will. But, after more than 40 years, I may need to move on from this first love and into a marriage of convenience.
A good book on your shelf is a friend that turns its back on you and remains a friend. ~Author Unknown
Peace.
Tee
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