1969 or 1970: Halloween and other flashbacks

Okay - when I was a kid, my mom made all my clothes (and she was really good at it). So naturally, when Halloween rolled around, Mom also made my costumes. This was Halloween when I was about 5 years old, so probably 1970. I am the one in the Red Riding Hood costume. Kimberly is dressed as an angel, and the smitten one is Eric. I have no idea who he is dressed as. These are my best friends at the time and we hung out as much as we could after school. My brother would get to tag-along for a while, but Mom would usually come get him and take him home. He was only three years old, after all.

Me - Because it's ALL about Me.

In case you were wondering what I look like (and because I figured out how to post photos on this site) here is a picture of me last September (2006) at a City function.

I will most likely ask the kids for permission to post their pics here too, and maybe, someday, I'll let the old folks and friends in on this blog.

I haven't much else to report at the moment, but rest assured that I will have plenty to say as my journey continues.

Library Ducks Return to HB

Last year I was introduced to the Library's resident family of ducks. The Mama and Papa Duck showed up around the beginning of February and Mama Duck made a nest in a planter that sits on my bosses balcony overlooking Central Park.

We waited and watched and on a warm Saturday in late May of 2006 those seven little ducklings began to hatch. A library staff member took a bunch of pictures of Mama Duck and her ducklings as they made their way from the balcony (they all jumped off the balcony and dropped about 20 feet to the rear parking lot area) and then waddled across the lot into the park. They slowly made their way across the grass and walking paths to the Lake in Central Park. (I'd post more pics, but alas someone deleted many files on the server and lost those wonderful pics)

Well, two weeks ago Mama and Papa returned to begin again. And this morning my boss called me into his office. Mama Duck was perched on the plants in the planter, deciding where to place her nest this year.

When I saw Mama and Papa in the parking lot earlier this month, my heart swelled (a weird but pleasent feeling) and I was all warm and happy. Seeing Mama Duck on the balcony again is something I will look forward to each Spring as I work here at the Central Library.

Recovery Slogans

These are the slogans of the 12 Step Recovery Program. I may select one from time to time and let you know what it means to me at that moment. For now, I just wanted a place to put them all.

First Things First
Live and Let Live
Let go and let God
Time takes time
One day at a time
Is your program powered by Will Power or Higher Power?
Cultivate an attitude of gratitude
Misery is optional
God never made no junk
Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less
Live life on life's terms
You can't think your way into a new way of living...you have to live your way into a new way of thinking
The key to freedom is in the Steps
GOD = Good Orderly Direction
HALT = don't get to Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired
Your worth should never depend on another persons opinion
HOW it works = Honesty, Open mindedness, and Willingness
SLIP = Sobriety Lost Its Priority
Don't pick up, ask for help, call your sponsor, and go to meetings
It's a simple program for complicated people
The newcomer is the most important person in any meeting
Keep coming back, it works if you work it
Learn to listen and listen to learn
Many meetings, many chances; few meetings, few chances; no meetings, no chances
Meeting makers make it
People who don't go to meetings don't hear about what happens to people who don't go to meetings
To keep what you have, you have to give it away
How does it work? It works just fine
If you don't want to slip, stay away from slippery places
If you do what you always did, you'll get what you always got
If you sit in the barber's chair long enough, you'll eventually get a haircut
Most things can be preserved in alcohol; dignity, however, is not one of them
Progress, not perfection
Resentment is like drinking poison and expecting someone else to die
think......think.......think
Keep it simple
This too shall pass
Stick with the winners
H O P E = Happy Our Program Exists
Recovery is a journey ...not a destination
To thine own self be true
Turn it over
Nothing is so bad, a drink won't make it worse
Willingness is the key
Take what you need and leave the rest
If you expect respect, be the first to show some
Keep the plug in the jug
Do it sober
Although we are not responsible for our disease we are responsible for our recovery
Hugs not Drugs
Just for Today
Recovery doesn't happen overnight
Pass it on
If you want to stay clean, don't use
Don't quit before the miracle happens
Learn to listen and listen to learn
Use the 24-hour plan
Nobody ever found recovery as a result of an intellectual awakening
When all else fails, follow directions
Change is a process, not an event
Call your sponsor before, not after, you take the first drink
Give time time
I was sick and tired of being sick and tired
You only get out of it what you put into it
It's the first drink that gets you drunk
An addict alone is in bad company
You can only keep what you have by giving it away
Take what you can use and leave the rest
Recovery begins with the First Step

More Azusa Memories

I remember being about 5 years old, and living in this house with my mom and dad, and my little brother, who was about 3. We had a big front yard with a big, full shade tree. My dad would mow the lawn every weekend or every other weekend, and this one time he made tracks in the grass, mowed 'roads' so my brother and I could ride our tricycles in the tracks. Then he sat under the tree, leaning back against the bark of the trunk and drank a beer while we 'drove' around the roads he made. It was a pretty neat day for a 5 year old.

Another time I remember pretending I was a bunny, hopping around the backyard. I hopped into the house through the back door and hopped into the kitchen. I told my mom I needed some lettuce, because I was a rabbit and I was hungry. She gave me a few lettuce leaves and shooed me back outside.

We had a lot of long grass in the backyard, and a peach tree that had been pruned back pretty badly. It didn't grow anything that I can remember. I use to climb up the stump, which was about 4 feet high, and I'd jump off the stump into the tall grass in our yard. I did this often and one day I jumped off of that tree stump, and landed in the grass, and a pain hit me about three seconds after I landed. I had landed the bottom of my big toe, on my right foot, into the opening of a pull top soda can. All the skin from the bottom of my toe was neatly cut off into the can. It bled like you cannot believe, and it scared the heck out of me - so, being 5, I screamed bloody murder, thus scaring the heck out of my poor mom. She recovered, took me into the house and after several large band-aids and some gauze, managed to stop the bleeding. I vaguely remember her reading me the riot act about jumping out of that tree and I don't think I ever did it again.

This was also the house we lived in when I had my first pet, a small red eared turtle I had named Myrtle. Original, huh? He lived in this little shallow pond with an island in the middle. The island had a small hole where a plastic palm tree 'lived.' I would feed Myrtle some turtle food before I went to school and check on him when I got home. I don't recall just how long I had this pet, but I don't think it was very long. I came home from school one day, stopped in to check on Myrtle and noticed he wasn't moving. I poked at him, and picked him up and noticed that he had a large fly in his mouth. I screamed and proceeded to find my little brother, who I yelled at rather loudly. I don't really know if my little brother actually fed the turtle that fly, but I am pretty sure it was him.

I have only two other memories in that house that come to mind. The first was waking up early one morning with a terrible cold and not being able to open my eyes. First, I panicked, because I couldn't open my eyes, which were stuck shut with dry eye goo. I somehow managed to calm down, get out of bed, and slowly make it to the bathroom. The carpet had been pulled up in the hall, though I don't know why, and in my quest for the bathroom sink I stepped directly on the nail strip that holds the carpet down. The sound I made woke up my mom, who helped me out with my gummed shut eyes. (I see even then I didn't want to ask anyone for help - I could have called out to her from my room, but I decided I could do it myself -- at 5. Hmmm)

The other memory started in a dream. I dreamed that I woke up to a sound I heard in my brother's room. In my dream I got up and left my room, walking down the hall to his room. He was in his crib and then I was also in his crib, and there were wolves under his crib. Then he and I were running back down the hall toward my room and my parent's room. I opened my parents bedroom door and on their bed were large, colorful boxes, and in the boxes, rising like jack in the boxes, were hippos. Yep, Hippos. It was all very strange. I woke up the next morning and headed to the kitchen for breakfast and noticed that my parent's mattress was out in the backyard. There was a large burn hole in it. I can't remember now if a lamp fell on it or if a cigarette caused that hole, but how weird to have that dream and then see their mattress outside the next morning.

I think those are all the memories from that house. And now I am done with Azusa.

night all.....