I see you peeking out at us from under the bed covers. You curled on your side with the blankets pulled up half over your face.

Your uneaten lunch from four hours ago still on the rolling table next t you.

You're happy to have us there as we chatter about family and new things which are happening.

I wonder what you are thinking as I watch your eyes scan across the room at each of us.

Do you know who I am?

You're 92 now.

And back in the hospital.

I remember being in Amsterdam sitting in the audience at the Paridiso as the documentary premiered.

You appeared suddenly on that huge screen.

You quietly but fiercely defended me as a trans-person, ...but "still your son" you'd said.

I remember how the audience loved your comment about 'being scandinavian... not too emotional you know."

Do you remember that interview? Is it still somewhere in your forgotten memories?

A few months ago, after you'd moved from the house you helped build, into a new place with hallways and staff.. I had a dream:

Driving on a quiet and dark night, I pulled up and parked next to your back yard. I left my van, and joined you while you were sitting outside on chairs set along your back sidewalk facing out onto the back year. I sat with you as you talked about how much you loved your flowers which were blooming and visible in the circle of the back yard light. The night was warm and quiet.

Then I noticed how quiet it really was... no sound from the usual night creatures. no sound at all. no breeze, or rustling leaves. I looked around the back yard and it was all there in the dark, softly illuminated by the glowing street lamps, but as I looked up, I saw that there was no stars. and I could just make out how at the edge of your yard and slightly into the woods things cleared away... and a large quiet warehouse floor became just visible. And I remembered that I had come to visit you at your new place which was reconstructed to look like your old house. But always night, always quiet, always isolated.

You talked about how something just wasn't right, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Still, you loved how the flowers looked, and you were content.

I remember the sadness overtaking me, as I eventually climbed back into my van, and drove away from you with the headlights on, searching for the exit that I couldn't remember in that huge, empty, still, darkened warehouse.

What are you thinking as you peer out at us?

When asked what your favorite dessert is you reply "Cream of Wheat."

2 days ago you pulled the needle from your arm twice, so now they watch you swallow pills instead.

But you don't always.

...

I love you Mom.

I can't say goodbye yet you know... but maybe that's what you've been quietly saying to me? To us?

As we leave, you smile... pull the covers away from your face a bit, say you want photos next time: "Remember to bring photos next time."

I can only nod an agreement after I hug you.

My voice is gone.

A pastel my Dad made of my Mom before I was born.

In my dream last month, the car was parked in the driveway of my Mom's house. It was winter, and I was standing over the open trunk. My job was to saw off the paws of the cat laying there. A long-hair golden cat.

I was horrified...but I knew it had to be done. I began the process... holding one arm securely, I steeled myself, and sawed through the flesh and bone with the small toothed saw not unlike a coping saw.

The cat didn't struggle, or react to pain, it just laid looking at me with sad eyes. They scanned over my face. I took another breath, and moved to the second arm, again sawing through it, feeling the resistance of bone. Then onto the left leg. Finally, as my eyes were welling with tears, I made it through the final leg.

Just as I'd finished, the cat jumped up, and slipped through a small rusted hole in the side of the trunk, into the winter snow, and running on stumps, it left bloody tracks as it slipped down a hole in the snow, and disappearing from view.

Guilt and horror overtook me. I screamed for help. I imagined the cat slowly dying from blood loss and frozen flesh. I howled in grief, tears running. I struggled with why I had done this, knowing it was wrong... why didn't I stop? why did I continue? Who'd convinced me I even had to do this? and why didn't I refuse? I hugged my sides, inconsolable, wanting to throw up.

I collapsed in the snow next to the car and curled into a ball.

The end of last month, I spent my final week in Duluth taking care of my Mom. She's now in an assisted living hospice. 5 days there now, as of this blog.

It's a good place, and has all 3 facilities for final living:

1. Independent living apartments; Come and go as you wish, within an accessible designed living complex, near help if needed.

2. Assisted Living. (where my Mom now is;) Round the clock checkins by staff. Scheduled care taking and health monitoring, 3 group meals a day, but within an apartment like living space where you're free to hang your own pictures, and bring in your own furniture, bed, tables, etc... an activity schedule.

3. End of life care; (I only asked about this, but my understanding is it's more like a hospital stay environment.)

My mom sleeps most of the time. Napping in her big chair.

During our day trip there 2 days ago, Just after her dinner, and after we'd hung some pictures we'd taken there from her house, I dialed my aunt's phone number on my cell, so I could let my Mom check in her. (My Aunt also has memory issues, and is having a hard time understanding, and remembering that my Mom has now moved.)

From my Mom's end of the quiet conversation, we heard her say she was fine, and of course she was home. "...I'm sitting in my big chair, The 'kids' are here, I'm comfortable...., Yes, every thing's fine. ....I'm just sitting..., in the house."

Then she slept again till we said goodbye, and we left for Minneapolis.

My sister said she'd stayed with her longer. Sitting in her wheelchair, they went through the halls and common spaces of the complex.

They stopped near a group of other residents who had gathered in the lobby. One resident had his acoustic guitar with him, and was singing and taking requests. I guess he sang "Don't Fence Me In" for my Mom and sister.

I still worry though.

One morning during that last week a month ago, while I stayed at her house with her, she told me over morning coffee: "It's Mine."

I asked what, and she said: "I own it now, free and clear. Last night they came and gave me the deed." she said with a smile. "I own the house now! It's mine!" I reminded her that she and my dad built the house years ago... way before I was even born, and of course she owned it... there wasn't really any deed involved, cuz they'd built it.

She just smiled.

Did I tell you guys that I cried the first time I saw this:? "I Have Always Loved You."

I'd just come back from walking out and around in the morning after Lynette and I had one of our big blow out arguments in NY... ( that argument was what inspired the song: "Love Is Nothing" ... just some trivia I suppose.)

It was a rainy week... and we were there painting the room which is now featured at the Carlton Arms hotel as one of the more popular rooms: #5-D; the "Venus & Lynette / All The Pretty Horses" room.

Anyway... it was one of those arguments, where Lynette is so angry at me for being so self centered, and "screaming quietly" ... you know what I mean... as we walked down the rainy wet sidewalks around Gramercy Park... I, of course, kept silent, which is what I always seem to do in arguments... I just don't know what to say... I try and stay calm... try and think... never seems to work... then sometimes I blow up.

Did I tell you guys I broke both my hands cuz of blowing up? Yeah... stupid. Once when I was about 21: (the right hand..., first band..., strummed with a cast..., played the Cabooze on a trip down to Mpls from Duluth for a gig..., (Back when The Suburb's were the big Mpls band.) Lynette and I weren't married yet..., I punched a wall.

- Then again once just a few years ago: The left hand..., the ATPH band..., learned to fret with 2 fingers..,. played Milwaukee...,Club Anything... I had punched a door frame.) ....I think I'm done with all that now.

Anyway.., yeah.., I came back the the room we were painting... Lynette was painting poems on the walls, I was painting theme and imagery. We were still stupid mad. I got back, and Lynette was out, I wandered around, then decided to work in the bathroom on one of the murals, and I saw what she'd painted... Pretty much broke my heart.

--------------

ATPH in NY 2-2010

I'd started writing this blog a few times... even did the full point to point follow up of the last few days of the NY tour for you... then just gave up.

I went to Duluth to put in my week helping take care of my Mom... and then while driving back I decided I needed to re-write it all.

It was tough in Duluth... Mom's content enough, but money's slipping away cuz she needs 24 hr care, and we need to compensate for that time spent taking care of her even with help from family and friends...

We need to look at moving her to an assisted living place where we can get help with financial costs... and better care for her... but, of course she's not understanding how things have changed...

Her memory is worse... it's now good hr's instead of good days. The rest of the time... she sleeps, or kind of 'swims' through time. I bring her to a senior lunch, where my Aunt (who's in her 80's ) also goes... she wants me to bring my Mom to come visit... but there's the 12 stairs up to her front door, and Mom just can't make it up that many anymore. My aunt's memory is almost as bad as Mom's... and she doesn't believe Mom can't make it up the stairs... so we argue. ("Fire from her eyes!" my Cousin sez when she's argued with her about the same thing...)

We're pushing it for having Mom at this lunch... it's not really set up to take care of someone with these kind of memory issues, or health issues... but they really like my Mom there, and she likes it there too.

Back at home we play domino's a lot.

4 nights ago, Mom called my aunt and asked if we could come over to visit... (I'd suggested that she call, and ask my Aunt to come visit us. )

I had to call back, and correct all that, and argue some again, then tell my Mom we couldn't go visit her cuz of the stairs... and she gave me the deepest - saddest look. she said: "Oh, Let's Go! We can do ti!! It'll be fun!! Let's Go!" Broke my heart again...hard.... hard.

How did it happen that I'm now telling my Mom "No, you can't do that." instead of the other way around? .... all those years growing up. the push and pull of life and desire.

I suggested we just go for a drive instead... went to the lake shore... drove out to the end of Park Point. Went down Superior Street into downtown Duluth... Saw the sunset... saw the city lights. My Mom loved it... forgot all about the stairs... by the next day, she'd forgotten all about the drive.

Me and Mom at Lake Superior

-----------------

Back in NY:

Yeah, what did I write in the unpublished first draft blog?

Hmmm...

Well, we got drunk.... some of us too drunk. Fought the headaches the next day...LeFreak's knee got really, REALLY bad... Emily visited her Mom on Long Island, Eden (one of my former bass players,) came to see us with her Boyfriend Adam... The gig at Arlene's Grocery went really well... but had to do a solo cuz my drummer Trev had personal conflicts which eclipsed the trip at the last minute...so we had to scramble to make it work... but it did. My long time friend and producer Barb (or 'Super Buddha') came to the show. My other long time friend Michael, a.k.a. Mistress Formika, Jones MC'd the event. The event was "BadAss Burlesque" hosted and created by Velocity Chyaldd. LeFreak and Emily danced onstage. Then also on the floor after the set, and the event.... till the last-call locals replaced the event audience... (they kept asking me why I was dressed like I was..., all the rest of the burlesque troupe having left by then, & only me, the only one in the bar wearing a corset and pasties.... Weird!! ... Did you feel it?... I just had a flash back of small town America right there in lower east-side Manhattan!

I'd decided it was time to go...

LeFreak and Emily stayed, Me and Eden and Adam went to catch a cab. I dragged my sorry-ass guitar and lights along with me down the sidewalk..., still in heels..., still in corset and pasties, but also, tastefully, in a long coat.

-- Did I tell you guys how Eden was feeling so bad for me, after we'd left Arlene's Grocery that she insisted she carry one of my things.... heavy as they were? She tried... got about 10 feet, and totally fell flat on the sidewalk! off balance from the weight, her small stature, and perhaps that last scotch? ... I took my guitar back, while wishing I could scoop her up as well, like a kitten, and carry her along with me and the equipment. Adam, screaming at the cabs for not stopping... and about as wiggly as Eden. me too almost by then-- all very cute in the struggle I'd like to think.... the memory of that will stick in my mind for some time to come I think....

No cabs willing to stop, All had fairs going to Brooklyn. ...Had to walk for about 10 blocks towards the hotel till we finally hailed an empty cab... Blah, Blah, Blah... normal last-call NY.

Got home...

Got to Duluth...

Talked the tough talk with my drummer about trying to follow through, but also understanding how life gets smack in the way sometimes... but still... and I Hate doing these talks!!! and so, how to balance? How do I balance?

Finally back home now... Another argument about time... No time... an argument about feeling alone, aloneness, about too much self centeredness... you know, normal argument stuff.

Got through it... kind of.

So now I'm thinking about us... all of us.. We're all so alone... We're born alone.... struggling to breath.... but we grab onto life as hard as we can, tight! fighting all the way. And we struggle to be together... Find that lost soulmate... carrying each other... carry each other's things... For a time, perhaps we really do it... We get our balance... we help our friends.... We find our partners.... perhaps we make that difference. And we live that life, ....OR we live it...., then lose track...., then live it again.... and lose it again... eventually we get old... and things fall away, our balance gets shaky, and the stairs become too many. Maybe our partner dies.... our friends drift. But we keep trying..... up until the end I think seeing my Mom... remembering my Dad.

Yesterday it occurred to me that even when we're hating, we express love, cuz we're feeling it's loss so intensely.... Maybe???

The night before I left for home, (3 nights ago,) my Mom wanted to know if we needed to get up for anything... and I said I was leaving that next morning, but we'd been getting up at 7:30 or 8 am, so I wouldn't worry... and she said: "Well, I guess... but, when we start school, we're going to have to get up even earlier cuz school starts so early..., but I keep forgetting..., it's still summer vacation."

I said: "yeah..., I guess we will."

Did I tell you guys I cried the first time I saw this?: "I Have Always Loved You."

(An Image of 'behind the bar' at the historic Stonewall Bar)

So, I'm back in NYC. at the moment, sitting at Fitzgerald's Pub at the bar... just as a Basket ball game ended with a very clise score... and last minute shots.

LeFreak, having a The First Scotch of the day...8 am Milwaukee Airport.

We walked around as soon as we got into the hotel..(tomorrow, we get to stay in 5D; the room which I painted, and Lynette wrote, and also painted poems in... it's been so popular, that I haven't been able to get into it for the past few years of coming out to NY.)

We made it down to The Stonewall Inn,.. after wondering for a while in the cold winter wind...but still feeling wonderful about being back here.

LeFreak had a subway map... (I'd left mine in the hotel room.) I'm pretty familiar with the system, but didn't want to lead the way and get us lost...so it was a good thing he had his.

Then we walked up to the meatpacking dist. and walked the Highline Parkway. it's it's first winter...and still a beautiful walk even though it's now covered in snow, and the wind was sharp.

...took a cab back to the hotel, but stopped off at Fitzgerald's, (The pub under the hotel (The Carlton Arms...an art hotel) where we've been stopping at for many years of touring here. we Know the bartenders, and got suggestions to dinner. had Indian food... After getting up at 3 am this morning... everyone's pretty tired...but after a short nap, I'm here doing this quick blog of the first day.

Emily 'Star' at the 14th St. Subway stop off the 'L' train.

Not much else to report... except, Emily 'Star' is now the only band member from the 'old' days of the band. She's toured with me to England twice, and all over here, the east coast... and regionally. We reminisced about some of our past drummers... from waaayyy back... Emily was in the band just after Billy left, and Matt Batchelor joined...so she and I share a number of memories... funny now to only have one member who can do this with me... I fear I just bore the other newer members now when spinning tales about past tours etc... yeah,yeah,yeah...Blah,Blah,Blah they, I'm sure, are thinking when I drift off.

A Small 'icon' image in the front entryway of the hotel of the large one which I painted in my room!! (Fun to have found...done by another artist.)

More tomorrow... seems like I'm not able to get online in my room at present...perhaps tomorrow I'll have better luck on 5D. Otherwise... I'll keep up with the Pub, and Coffee shop connections.

-Venus

At 7:15 am this morning, when I'd just stumbled down the stairs, I saw a dozen red roses in a vase in front of the fireplace.

I had no idea where they came from, and I asked Lynette, who was hurrying to get ready for an early meeting at school.

She said she'd brought them home last night for me, but I hadn't noticed because I was so caught up in doing my taxes... adding up the faded numbers off mounds of crumpled, and torn receipts saved from the past year. I'd been working on it all day, and with an accountant appointment scheduled in just over an hr, and I wasn't sure I'd be done in time.

I was crazy scrambling.

I felt pretty stupid this morning... but I love red roses. And I **think??** Lynette's forgiven me? well, she acted as if she did.

(She's left for that meeting now.)

I Love them!!

I love you Lynnie ;)

Stupid taxes!!

My cat Eliza was followed me around too.... Everywhere!

...Wouldn't move more than a few feet away.

She was being very cuddly. (She's off sleeping somewhere now I think.)

She's from the 'old guard' kitties. The group we first got... one of the first stray's we took in, and now the last of that group.

3 days ago we found out that she has cancer, and only has a few months to live.

Maybe.

But she's happy now now... though dealing with a slowly draining ear, and some nerve damage effecting the left side of her head, (It's inner ear cancer.. never knew there was such a thing.)

It makes me pretty sad... but I want her to feel loved for as long as possible.

My dreams have now shifted to not being on the move... they usually lag about 2 weeks behind whatever I'm doing, and it's been a little over 2 weeks since getting back from tour.

Last night I dreamt she was attempting to drop down a square hole broken through the floor of some 2 story carriage house we'd evidently fixed up in my dream world. I kept trying to stop her, grabbing her tail just as she was slipping through, and pulling her back onto the floor next to the whole. I knew she's be really hurt if she dropped that far to the cement 1st floor.

She'd look dissapointed... nose around... then she'd start at it again, giving it another try.

-- Lynette is walking more now without using her crutches. her broken ankle from her car accident while I was on tour, is slowly healing... but not fast enough for her. She did well getting out the door to her meeting.

These random thoughts have me thinking about crossing boundaries.

- When I was 19, I saw some trans Male to Females on the old 'Donahue Show' one afternoon on my little B

black and white portable TV in my 1st Street, downtown Duluth Brownstone 2nd floor condemned apartment. (I'd gotten it for $125.00 a month through a friend who'd worked out a deal with the landlord.)

The apartment was a construction mess when I'd moved in, but that was part of the deal... I'd fixed it up since..

This was he first time I could put a name on how I felt gender-wise. Up until then I thought I was the only person in the world dealing with my 'gender frustration.'

I eventually crossed that boundary, but in my own unique way.

- Years later, during the first line-up era of "All The Pretty Horses,' (Bill and Ed and I,) we thought we'd get rich off my being public about being transgender... This was the early 90's. It never happened.... the getting rich part. But we'd broken the rules. Crossed the line.

That time in Rock and Roll didn't have room for Trans people... (not sure it's much different now.)

- When my father died, I was there. I saw him die. His eyes rolling back... muscles straining, trying to make some sort of noise...

That was 17 years ago. I still see him now in my dreams, sometimes as a young man, sometimes as he was before he died. And we talk about life now.

I imagine him having crossed the line of life.

- My Mom remembers it differently.

She's now dealing with memory loss... Last month, my sister told my sister that my aunt was vacationing in Cuba. That being the reason she hadn't seen her for so long, even though they were both at the neighborhood senior community lunch. the day before.

She remembers my Dad drifting off easily, when he died. (she was there too.)

She's crossed the boundary of independence.

She'd always been one to strike out on her own, tackling life on her own terms.

I imagine it's hard for her to have to be dealing with these physical and mental limitations now.

- In NY while ATPH was touring there early on, I met Jayne County... one of, if not the first, trans Male to Female rock performer to publicly acknowledge her transgenderism... she'd even transitioned mid musical career, starting out as Wayne County.

I kept running into her whenever I was out in NY... saw her DJ set at 'Otto's Shrunken Head' tiki lounge.

At a small 'Trans-Party gathered in the back room of a bar just down the street from the old 'Meow Mix.'

At another bar somewhere in lower Manhattan where we were meeting mutual friends for an early evening drink.

We'd talk and catch up on just daily stuff... She'd mentioned her desire to move back to her hometown roots down south. I don't know if she ever did, as our mutual friends have now drifted away, and I no longer see her out.

Her performances were raw and jarring.... coming directly from the early, messy, 'fuck the audience' Punk days. At odds (as is usually the case with performers,) with the daily persona I'd gotten to know.

Seeing her perform towards the end of her career, and also knowing the work she'd done as a young person... she did, and I'm sure, continues to cross multiple boundaries.

- I had a 2 hr long conversation with a closeted trans-friend of mine. Someone who passes flawlessly as male, Having crossed that boundary quite successfully long ago, but now, life is pulling him towards having to deal with coming out... A whole other boundary. But he doesn't want to. He's content and happy leaving that personal information out of his life.

We talked about these feelings, the craziness of unpredictability, and how to deal with the unexpected.

- A former band mate of mine, who joined the band before Her transition, has now become heavily involved in the porn industry... seemingly to have set aside music, friends, relationships, and consideration in order to pursue it.

We've broken ties, (Her decision,) because of an article written about the band's history, and it's many line-up changes. Her birth name having been noted in a sensational way by the article's author. Her anger towards me stems from a feeling that I shouldn't have let that happen, and should've apologized to her for using her birth name when I acknowledged her previous musical work. (this, I also I did all the other past band mates,) And since she was known in the musical circles as her previous male self, and wasn't shy about being open about her own transgenderism, I didn't think twice about giving her the same props I'd given everyone else.

She'd blamed me for the author's use of highlighting her name, and took the article as a personal insult.

So, here, with this event, many lines and boundaries have been crossed.

......

The morning of the day I left on this last tour, Lynette was sleeping, the morning sun was poring in, Eliza (our 'old guard' kitty,) was awake, purring, and following me down for breakfast.

I was thinking about how perfect things were right at that very moment.

I knew everything would change.. time never stopping.

I didn't want to let go of it.

I stood still at the top of the stairs looking back at Lynette, the sun on the floor, and Eliza.

Then I went down to make the morning coffee.

The door stickies Lynette put up for my 'tour return'

Lynette drove her new car to work today for the first time. Hope it all goes well... though I'm 98% sure it should.

We're both happy that she's now one step closer to getting back to her old self. Still, it'll be about 6 more weeks of crutches if that all goes well, and she's given up on coming along with the band on our short tour/gig in NY on Feb 20th. (That's the one place she usually comes along to when we gig out of town.... I wonder why ;) ;) at "Arlene's Grocery" as part of "Bad Ass Burlesque," who invited to be the 1st musical guest for this night. (so DON'T be late if you plan to go!! 11:30 p.m. sharp!)

I'll miss her.
We often take a time just for the two of us to be on the town in NY... (we have our favorite restaurant: The Gramercy Tavern (http://www.gramercytavern.com) just near the hotel we always stay at, and in which we created an installation room: (#5D the "All The Pretty Horses" or "Venus & Lynette" room.. top floor... I did the paintings, Lynette wrote the poems:) "The Carlton Arms"(http://www.carltonarms.com) -- but I'll miss that night out this trip.












Our #5D Room (..stolen from the Carlton Arm's website -- (forgive me guys ;))



The last two weeks have unfortunately been pretty stressful on both of us.
Mostly because we're just not good under stress.
I tend to get quiet, which makes Lynette worry, and she tends to be more direct in her dialogue with me, which triggers my reactionary self.
-- A Bad Mix!!

So we kept taking our walks down the old 'spiral staircase ' of habitual ' Let's just Irritate each other for a while, shall we? ' Sheesh! you'd think after all this time we'd know better... but there you go. I know those of you out there in relationships know what I'm talking about. - Then the guilt kicks in... and just makes everyone feel worse. Ugh!

But we do talk through these things... at least we've learned to do that. Stumbling as we do...but we at least, stumble forward.

I just finished reading a book a friend of ours lent us: "Still Alice," (review link) about a woman who got early onset Alzheimer's. As some of you know.., My mom is dealing with age related dementia now. (it came on noticeably pretty quickly for us over the past 3 years... but perhaps it was a few years before that she was dealing with it without knowing.) You may remember seeing her in the documentary about me and Lynette and the band: 'Venus of Mars' (http://www.venusofmars.com) by Emily Goldberg.
- Anyway it's a very good, but very sad book. and it reminded me of how crazy tangled relationships can be.

How we manage the tangles makes the difference.

It's kind of a found, and lost, and found again kind of path we take. I feel often now that I've lost my mom... but she's always happy to see me when I take time to be up in my hometown taking care of her. So I know she doesn't feel like she's lost me.
When Lynette and I are struggling through a stupid 'torn a part' relationship situation... there's that 'Lost' feeling which can overwhelm you... but then, just as suddenly, you find yourself, and your loved partner...and you remember just how lucky you are in life.

--- I'm thinking it's about time for another song writing session for me. (My usual outlet on this subject ;)

-Venus

I Hate scrabble!

I'm sorry to anyone reading this who loves it.

It's been about a week since I'm back from tour, and a week and 2 days since Lynette's accident.

It's WAY cold, and TONS of snow! (see picture of our back-yard: just taken an hr ago.)

Back yard... early morning... today.

We're still dealing with day to day untangling from the accident.

There's also a fair amount of anger and the frustration.

I've been helping with the small 'run and grabs,' pick-ups and stuff, also the rental and return of a car, and generally being available for whatever.

The 'high of survival' has worn off.

Turns out that the insurance we have, IS supposed to cover property as well as medical when the other driver is uninsured...but it's taken a lawyer to let us know about this, and now will also need a lawyer to help us convince the insurance company to admit it. (a meeting with this lawyer happens at noon today, a friend of a friend.)

In the mean time, we've paid for everything so far out of pocket... the impound lot's fees and towing charge, (just so we could get to the car and recover what's inside... )

It's still accruing daily fees since, so there will be other payments needed till we can either have it crushed, or sell it for parts to someone.

The rental of a car for a week was expensive, (perhaps I shouldn't have agreed to their basic insurance package?) - Happy, we're past needing that, now that Lynette is just able to crawl up into the band-van for rides... but still needing help getting back out.

Surface driving in the van sucks gas.

And I've always hated scrabble.

Lynette knows this... and thinks I'm just mean about it.

(She loves it.)

It's really not the game.

And I've never really explored why I hate it till just a few days ago.

We had friends over for an 'in-house' - 'night out.' (Lynette still not up for too much time on her broken ankle, and also the troubles with getting around on crutches.)

Scrabble was the game of choice... (though I was outnumbered, and also, I'd felt guilty about not liking it for so long, keeping Lynette from playing it...)

With Lynette's insistence, (her being the 'sick-girl,') it was decided that the two couples would make up the two teams.

Lynette is an english professor.

Words are second nature to her.

I, on the other hand, am hard pressed to come up with a 2 or 3 letter word from the tiny blocks set in front of me.

I don't want to go way into the night's game, as that's not really the point of this blog... So I'll cut to the chase:

* I drifted away from the game...

* Lynette scored highest,

* There' was spilt wine.

- (ps On this... my laptop seems fine, though its looking very 'well loved' now.)

* The game ended.

But here.

I discovered why I hate the game so much... It's memories.

I spend about 3 years in special education classes: 2nd grade, 3rd grade (which I almost failed,) & 4th if I am remembering correctly.

In 3rd grade, I stopped doing my work... I was part of an experimental era of grade school teaching. We were on our own to test ourselves, do the assignments, etc... I figured out how to work around it all, and just quit.

I drew, played games etc... for most of the year, until it was discovered.

The 'whole-spelling' type of spelling technique I was taught... (remembering the full word shapes?? or something like that?) as opposed to phonics, caused me to fail miserably in spelling.

The results became more apparent in 4th grade when 8 or 9 words out of a 10 word spelling list, would be misspelled by me.

The teacher, I'm sure now, in an attempt to encourage my motivation, would hold it up in front of the class for ridicule... that, of course, only made me want to leave. It never sparked a self motivational fire in me.

As it is now... I am bound to spellcheck... and only recently have I begun to explore writing as a way to pull the crazy life impressions out of my head out. (I think also writing music all these years, and working with lyrics has also helped me get beyond a fear of words.)

Scrabble? Suddenly I'm back in 4th grade.

Who knew?... but there it is.

I've also discovered (or should I say re-discovered,) that neither Lynette nor I are good under stress when we're together.

You know how after a while, couples can press each other's buttons? without even trying? - I know... there are 'good buttons' of course... but I'm talking about the 'bad buttons.' here!

Well, we're constantly pushing them!

We'll be fine... so don't worry..., it's just how it works.

It makes troubles, more troublesome.

But we always get through it... (Lynette sez it's helpful for my songwriting ;)

OK,

So, enough for a second blog posting... and I suppose, (now that I know,) I may give scrabble another try at some point... but forgive me if I drift away after a time.

-Venus