If you were to make another copy of this photo of the butterfy life cycle and reverse the copy by flipping it, then place the two photos end to end, you would begin to understand the daily cycle of my life. Today, I was free and flew. I don't know where I'll be tomorrow, but I can believe those who love me will love me whatever stage I am in, coming out, going in. Love is too simple a word to describe how I feel about you all.

Mom was hovering as I changed from my waitress outfit coming off my shift at the Grayling Restaurant at 11:00p on a school night. “How about you start up the car, and I’ll go with you?” she asked. I was tired. My other tiny job was getting the church ready for daily mass, and it was dark. I affirmed that. I went out, chiffon scarf protecting my ‘high hair’, started the car and waited. While I waited I must’ve dozed. Being new to the wheel, I had left it in 1st gear, so as my foot relaxed on the clutch, I proceeded to drive through the garage door, into the cans of paint piled up to do the house’s exterior.

The door didn’t just break, it was pushed thru the garage roof, and with a miracle, not one of the paint cans were touched. I put in in neutral, hand brake engaged, and sobbed. I looked up and my dad climbed in beside me. “Sweetheart,” he said. “would you give me the honor of driving me to the church so you can finish your work?” Weeping I said I never wanted to drive again. “But you have only just started. The door is no biggie, I wanted a new one.” And, through tears and exhaustion, we backed that big ole Mercury out of the garage, and to the church.

Today was like that. I was both exhilarated and worn out about driving to the doctors, leaving my home, my nest on my own. In my head, I heard Del Shannon singing “Run, run, runaway”, which I played each time I took the car out, and I made it both to and from the appts.

I thought I was on a high. I took calls, I worked FB, I did email. I didn’t recognize who I was, but I enjoyed her. And someone said, “you are not ‘high’. You are the Vicki I’ve known.”

I hadn’t realized my voice, my hibernation, my writing had taken on a new volume. Today I was tuned into station WVIC.

Tonite, I am worn out, quiet, and will need 2 days to become who I have now become. Still Vicki, but more like vicki-lite.

I wrote down a note in my calendar, for I will forget. “Today was a very good day.”

The miracle of all this is that you love Vicki v1 and Vicki v2. Vicki v3 hasn’t been released yet. Thank you…

Love, Vicki

Was watching “Sleepless in Seattle” (sniff, sniff) and went for a bottle of soda from the fridge. Have one of those handy magnetic bottle/can openers.

Poured what I wanted, turned to the fridge, put the magnet in the fridge, and as I watched (like an out of body experience) I placed the soda on the side of the fridge … My inner voice said “oooooohhhh nooooo” but my brain said “hey cool. I didn’t know you could stick soda on the outside of the fridge.”

Just a little thing can set me off. Does that happen to you? On the other hand, being an old woman I can blame it on my age, and deny it may be getting assistance from the gremlin called FTD.

Note to self: Next life FTD will ONLY mean TeleFlora Delivery.

Love, Vicki

Last week, I had an opportunity to be interviewed via phone by a psychologist about FTD/Picks. I thought I’d share how I reacted to our well-known standard questions that begin ALL our doctor visits.

What is your name? Where do you live? What is the date?

Answer: I know it must be March, right?

Day of the week?

Answer: Can we make it Saturday? I like Saturdays.

Last question: Who is the president of the United States?

Answer: Proudly I answered “Obama!” but before she could continue, I shouted, “Ben Lauden!!” ;o(

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The kicker is, I was all puffed up about the president question, because a) he’s got a hard name to handle anyway and b) I was gonna impress her. To boot as often happens, when I’m speaking I suddenly get loud. Like I’m hard of hearing or something. When she started giggling I asked her what I’d said. Took a couple of mental rewinds and I was laughing too.

Lord, I want you to remember I don’t need much more humility, just in case I accidentally – as an enthusiastic youth – prayed for such things. As for other virtues, my mother always said: “For goodness sake! NEVER pray for patience.” When I had my first child I realized how true her words were. Lord, help us all.

http://www.pyepimanla.com/decembre-2008/articles/Le%20discours%20d’Obama%20%E0%20Philadelphie.html Thank you for the use of the link.

Hugs to you all … Vicki