This will probably only be understood by me.

You ask me nicely to create several pieces for an upcoming show, I look at you dumbly, and say o.k. Why do I do this to myself? I'll tell you, I could never, ever, get rich doing this. I need to be inspired by the sky, water, wind, LIFE. I'm embarrassed to throw things together, I can barely stand back and see the beauty I create being displayed in your showcase that I spent weeks on, how on earth am I going to be able to stand there on Saturday while we display our things, and if, that's a BIG one, IF someone says to me, "OH, that's just beautiful, you are so talented." I'll want to look them square in the eye and say, " JESUS lady, I just threw that shit together!" Now if there is any integrity in creating the things that I do, I feel as though I'm compromising it. I don't want to compromise anything anymore in my life! Lets back track, YES, there is integrity, I shop for components that are people friendly, I do the best I can to make sure there is no child labor involved. I recycle as much as I can, but the sad thing is, the buyers don't want to hear these things. This is such a "I want it now" world, I want to " look good" no matter the cost. Me personally, I feel a responsibility to this planet and people. I want desperately to let the buyers know they are buying a piece of me, my heart. Each piece I sell goes with a prayer for the owner. I really want to know these things matter to you, but that would be selfish of me to hold you to my standards. I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you this would bother me so much. But I'm going to, in a nice way, I'll rehearse it in my mind. I am no better then you, but you know the old saying, "to thine own self be true." It applies here, I think for both of us. We are different, but the same. You create to please others, I create to please me. Now after re-reading what I've written, I did compromise myself, I said yes, when I should have said no, and if we are going to have a future together in this venture, you need to understand, and I need to be honest. Knowing you, you will understand, and chalk it up to "complimenting each other."

RIP Uncle Don

Uncle Don, you contributed greatly to my childhood memories. Your voice was soft and sweet, your hair jet black and shiny, your talents knew no boundaries. Your laughter was contagious, as I caught it every time you laughed. You were daddy's best friend. After dad died, your family couldn't bear to tell you, it would have devastated you, and if dad were here to witness your leaving, it would have devastated him also. Oh to be a fly in heaven and witness dad seeing you, whole again, your illness made him so sad. You were a complete joy to be around. Thank you for sharing your wonderful family with ours.
I felt like a child again today at your funeral, songs were sung that were sung so many years ago, some from the same men that sang them then, only back then, they had a few beers in them! I've always loved you ol' coots.


I'll be seeing you;
In all the old, familiar places;
That this heart of mine embraces;
All day through.
In that small cafe;
The park across the way;
The childrens carousel;
The chestnut tree;
The wishing well.
I'll be seeing you;
In every lovely, summers day;
And everything thats bright and gay;
I'll always think of you that way;
I'll find you in the morning sun;
And when the night is new;
I'll be looking at the moon;
But I'll be seeing you.



I'll be seeing you Uncle Don.
xxxxxoooooo

Upon awakening this morning,

there was that familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach. The feeling of sadness and disbelief. "Oh yeah" I say to myself, innocent people were slaughtered yesterday. Many moms, dads, sisters, brothers, wives, husbands, children, and so on, didn't sleep at all last night. The nation is heavy with grief, I can feel it. May God help us all...again.

One more post...

raising teenage daughters is sort of like a thrill ride. It reminds me of the one at Cedar Point...the Dragster to be exact. Hang on for dear life, close your eyes, inhale and exhale....and it will be over before you know it. Most importantly, you all survive.

It's 12:03 a.m.

My daughter is on the phone with a boy...need I say more? Yep. I'm pissed. I just heard her say, I gotta go, cause my mom said so. Yea, cause mom said so......no better reason then that. Oh.God.help.me. Better yet, God, help that boy that is calling my home ;^)

I have but a moment here...

I was 37 years old when I first was struck by actually knowing, and feeling "someone" gave their one and only Son up for us. It hit me DEAD square between the eyes. I wept for a very long time, I suppose because my girls were only 4 1/2 years old, when this hit me. Could I have given my children up? No, would be my answer, I'm not God. When I actually KNEW that God had done this, and understood the sacrifice, is when it finally dawned on me, after so many, many years, how truly great He is! To me, this is truly the most beautiful season of all. Thank you God, for your gift.

She "happened" to me.

I have been neglecting my blog....lots has been happening, and have found myself just too tired. I decided instead of rambling, I'd jot down some things day by day as they come to me.
On February 9th my husband was reading the business section of our local newspaper and pointed out to me a person who was going to be selling her lampwork beads in a local shop. Where I live in Michigan, you either have to go way south in our state, or way north to find someone who creates art in this medium. He mentioned I should drop in the shop and check it out. The next day I dropped in, we spent much time talking, and we clicked. I dropped in several times after that day, she referred to to me as Mary Poppins, as she would say I would blow in like the wind, and leave the same way. She told me the other day, that it was only a week ago that she found out my name, only because I had left my business card. In the times I stopped into her business, I would spend time with her demonstrating different techniques, brainstorming, and talking of God, and our Dads, but it never occurred to me to leave my name. The first time I visited her, I later found out, was the 3rd year anniversary of her dads death, and it was coming up in a few short days of my 2nd anniversary without my dad. She told me her life changed drastically after she lost her father, and I told her mine did also. I'm not sure for sure what brought her and I together, but I have a pretty good idea. After only 8 weeks of "knowing" her, we can both say we are kindred spirits. We both agree that our paths crossing were meant to happen long before we were born. The only other time I ever felt this way, was when I fell madly in love with my second husband, and that only took a few moments. I feel blessed by God to have met Chris. I believe things happen for a reason, and Chris "happened" to me for a reason, it should be interesting to see what this journey brings. We are talking within the next year of an art gallery, a place to display art, and a place where art is born. It is a wonderful feeling to KNOW when something is right, and not to guess. The feeling is so strong, (for both of us) that to go against it, would be likened to fighting the forces of nature. My husband has noticed this rebirth in me, and he is also very excited. Chris and I share with each other how blessed we are to have such supporting husbands, who want nothing more then to see us fulfilled, and our artistic spirits nourished. Life IS good!

Some apples want to roll away from the tree

By the time you read this blog, I may or may not be here, but hopefully you laugh. I do know at times, or I feel it anyway, that you are embarrassed by my "lack" of feminine qualities. Let me assure you honey, I'm all woman, for God's sake I'm going through menopause....believe me, I know what it feels like to be a woman. I know I talk like a sailor at times, and I'm trying to work on that, but like I told you so very long ago, I'm not perfect. As popeye would say, "I yam what I yam". I want you to know, I love your prissyness, I'm not even sure that is a word, but you know what I mean. You possess qualities, I only dream of, but won't attain, because it's not me. You are a breath of fresh air to me, and you make me laugh. You force me to hold my tongue, when I don't want to. I do learn from you, but right now, you're 14, and you make me crazy!! Sometimes, you downright scare me! I can tell you something, and 5 minutes later, you say I didn't tell you that....are you trying to make me crazy, OR is it that you didn't listen? If you didn't listen, that's what scares me honey. I feed you bits of information every day, as I always have, to keep you safe in this world. Please listen to me, it is so important that you, (as well as your sister), hear my words. I have lived 48 years, and have only been harmed twice, as a woman, I'd say I'm fortunate. When you go off to college, I want you to stay home with your sister and go to the university down the road...please! To be honest with you Ang, I want you and your sister to stop growing up RIGHT NOW, if you could please. I guess I'm kidding, but I don't think I am. Look at this picture I've posted of you, as soft spoken and girly as you are...can you believe you did this in a department store, (you really stepped outside of the box on this one) I love the zany side of you, in fact, I love all of the sides of you. Even though you see you and I as totally different types of people I love and appreciate you for YOU. You are my summertime girl ;)

Some apples stay closer to the tree than others

Amanda, you certainly remind me of myself when I was your age...only I wasn't quite as pretty! I love your free spirit, and your gracious heart! When your 14 year old hormones aren't messing with you, you are something else! If I were your age, and knew you, you would be my friend. You are reliable, honest, and true to yourself. When I think about you in my alone time, I think to myself, "I really don't have to worry too much". I just worry about you getting yourself in a situation you can't handle, only because I've somewhat sheltered you for so long. O.K., I've sheltered you a lot! Because you seem so much like me, life is not always going to be easy for you, you know that, don't you? For a kid your age to know right from wrong...and STAND on it, it's not always easy. You know what I'm talking about, I've tried to prepare you. You seem to be doing fine though, you have so many friends, and they know they can rely on you. Even though you and I bang heads in a big way, I love you so very, very much, and I really LIKE you.

I did a little bit of this, and that today.

I spent two hours in the grocery store today...arrrrggg. One hour unloading, hey, I know it sounds like a long time to unload, but when you have two doggies ALL OVER YOU, it takes a while. First I roasted a pork loin, mmmmmmmmmm, then I made brushetta, (I'm not sure that spelling is correct) to top the bagel crisps, for our snack during our movie tonight. This movie is one of our favorites. Oh, and about the Swiffer, this is my new friend. Swiffer picks up the dog hair from the floors, like nothin I've ever seen. Swif, as I call her, and I, are going to become great friends. Even though she is not mechanical, I'm positively sure, I will be the only one to know how to use her. AND, I finally put up the last piece of copper backsplash in my kitchen....I just love it!

I panicked for a few moments....

As I was driving the girls to school this morning, I was struggling to remember the lyrics to the song.
Something to do with roses, red roses, yes that was it. Why can't I remember?? If I can't remember, then I've lost a piece of you dad! Dammit! What was it?!
By the time I pull into the garage, I've remembered, thank God.

I want some red roses for a blue lady
Mister florist take my order please
We had a silly quarrel the other day
I hope these pretty flowers chase her blues away

I want some red roses for a blue lady
Send them to the sweetest gal in town
And if they do the trick, I'll hurry back to pick
Your best white orchid for her wedding gown

(I want some red roses for a blue lady)

We had a silly quarrel the other day
I hope these pretty flowers chase her blues away

I want some red roses for a blue, blue lady
Send them to the sweetest gal in town
And if they do the trick, I'll hurry back to pick
Your best white orchid for her wedding gown

Your best white orchid for her wedding gown


I don't want to forget anything dad, most of all, I want to remember your voice, it's been two years, and I'm still hanging on. You had a beautiful singing voice. I was so very proud of your singing voice. As a child, I would tell my classmates, "My dad turned down the chance to go to New York to be a famous singer, because he fell in love with my mom". What a beautiful thing to be able to say, I appreciate it for what it means, now.
I remember you lifting me on your lap, and cuddling into that black chair with you. I remember you singing "Red Roses" to me, you made me so happy. I remember you also singing "Baby Face", and I would blush.
I remember when you would come home from work, and sit in that black chair. You would have all five of us line up for fun! We would take our turns stepping up to you for the tickle challenge. You had us raise our chin up, and extend our necks. You would slowly raise your moving fingers in a tickle gesture to our necks. If we would giggle before you touched our necks, we wouldn't get that penny. I don't think you ever lost a penny! You made my life fun. I think what spurs these memories of you, are the girls. I am so sad for them, as you were also. But you know what dad, because they never experienced the love of a father like I did, maybe they don't know what they are missing, I suppose. Of all the wishes in my heart, I wish that every child could have a dad like you. Amanda wrote her father a letter the other day, and it broke my heart. She wants him to be a "normal" dad. Mostly she wants him to give a shit. Give a shit where she is in her life. He has fucked up so bad, by forsaking them, only because he loathes me so. In her letter to her father, she told him that the only father she trusts completely is God, I suppose I should be thankful.
I miss you dad, my good friend. I love you so very much. When I get to Heaven, you're the first one I'm looking up.

What I want my friend to know, but don't want to tell her.

My dearest friend Pam,
These past 5 weeks I have witnessed a woman whom is highly educated, and spiritually rich, torn down to a little girl. I am so very sorry both you and Lauren lost Don. I am afraid for you, because you are afraid. My heart breaks for you, because your heart is broken. I weep for you, because you weep. Since my dad died Pam, I have not wanted to stumble for words to comfort anyone, like those who stumbled for me. There is nothing I can say to erase what happened, or to erase your pain. I can listen though, and I will. I'm having a hard time looking into your eyes, as you are into mine. I know we talk, but really we're saying nothing. But it's when our eyes meet, so much is said, but it hurts too much. I feel so very sorry for you Pam, unbelievably sorry. I wish like a child would wish, that this never would have happened! Pam, when I see you, although you are trying to function in your day, all I see is a grown woman curled into a fetal position. I pray with every fiber of my being, that you feel Gods loving arms around you, I pray you feel Him holding you up, and supporting you. I pray for time...months to fly by, so there will be distance from the accident. I pray this doesn't harden you, or Lauren. I will not forsake you as a friend, I promise. I'm sorry , so sorry, that I'm having a hard time looking into your eyes, I'm trying. I'm just scared, scared that if this could happen to Don, it could happen to my Jim.......reality I guess, I thought we were to young to be widows, guess not.
I love you Pam.

Ha, that's all I needed to do!!

I went and re-read a comment from Velvetsacks, on a previous post I made. I'm going to keep referring back to that comment. Number one...it made me laugh, number two...it shows me light at the end of the tunnel. Oh, and number three, I'm not alone, I think that's the most important one! I do love the voices of experience. Thanks Velvet, you may not know it, but you made a strangers day today! Bless you!

I sure wish someone would explain this to me!

I don't get it!? When I take one of my daughters anywhere.... people comment on what a wonderful person she is. Really she is, but what I don't get, is how totally disrespectful she is to me. Is the age 14 1/2 really suppose to be this awful, for me??? Yeah, I know I signed up for this motherhood thing...but I didn't , or don't remember, signing up for this shit! I cannot believe how hateful she can be to me. I would really hate if something were to happen to me, and her last words to me were , Whatever, or, just get out of here! She would feel awful, and she would have to live with that for the rest of her life.... I think. I share this info with my mom, and she says to me, really, this is funny....I beg to differ with her. I suppose since she has already raised 5 kids, she can afford to laugh at all of this. She does tell me though, she would have never thought of being disrespectful to her parents, and I would have never thought of saying those things to my parents, either. So, is it a generational thing, have I become too loose as a parent? I don't even know where to begin with punishing my daughter for her behavior...or even if I should. Damn all of these so-called-parenting-books, all of the Dr. Phils, all of these people that say my generation are raising kids wrong. My parents, and their parents, just shot-from-the-hip, and did what they felt was right, at the moment, and I turned out o.k. A friend, not to long ago said to me, "teenagers are the way they are, so it won't be so hard to let them go one day".....I'm thinking she is so right. The little voice in my head says to me, "this too shall pass"...God, I hope I'm right.

Drivers license

My daughters start drivers training in 3 weeks. I'm afraid beyond words. In Michigan, you begin at 14yrs. 8 months...what a step back from 15 yrs., some months, when I began( 30 some years ago)!! The cost is $289.00 per child, you could not pay me a thousand dollars to have my child merging on I-75 in three short weeks, so the cost is NOT an issue. Yes, I-75 is that interstate that runs from the top of my state to the tip of Florida. My husband is really pushing for their permit, so they gain some experience......it will be gained with him! I don't have the patience for this. If my daughters would feel comfortable with the word "anal"...they would say I'm being anal about all of this, well I don't care. Oh, my God, being a parent is so full of worries. I always say to them, "It's not that I don't trust you, it's everyone else I don't trust!". I'm sure we'll live through all of this, but it's the toll it takes of my health...(kind of feeling like I'm gasping for breath) . Which reminds me, I should phone my Mom, and thank her, just thank her, for being Mom, and knowing when to let go. But, I don't want to let go........ yet. Amanda & Angela, I love you so much.

Buena vista!

This morning was just beautiful, I love the way the snow just hangs onto everything there is to hang onto. Freshly fallen snow makes Max and Gabbie especially fiesty, I so enjoy watching them! Every season has its beauty, so does every day. I tend to look deeper for it. I think I try to remain an optimist for my kids, because they can be sooo grumbly in the morning.

Passwords & user i.d.s

Lately...especially today, I've been wondering if something were to happen to me, how would my loved ones enter the many, many accounts I have on line? Sometimes I struggle to remember the passwords I used, and which e-mail I registered with. AAAARRRGGG....! What do you people do? That's one thing about getting older, you think about what you're going to leave behind, and what you're not. I think I'll go to bed and think about it ;)

Why?

Hallmark cards say, if you don't experience sadness, you cannot feel real joy. It takes an awful lot, but my faith has come into question...forgive me God for that. I am going to ramble here...only because I can. After losing my father-in-law on Jan. 19, 2007, I thought I would have a rest of some sort. On Feb. 9, 2007, my dear friend and her daughter lost a husband and father in an accident that shouldn't have happened. What the hell? Don leaves behind a wonderful wife, and a beautiful 14 year old daughter. The picture perfect family. I loved him so, never a harsh word against anyone, and he truly enjoyed life. I am angry, and I am filled with sadness for Pam, his wife, and Lauren, his daughter. I'm tired and emotionally drained. Most of all, I am very sad. I want to fix this, but I can't. Dammit. I feel I can't do enough. There are days when I hate it that I care so deeply. Dammit. Maybe I keep too much to myself. I called my husband out of work, to just be with me for a while, before I have to go back to the (dreaded) funeral home. Sometimes life just sucks.

I don't know where to begin, this isn't easy. One of my fav reads is a blog written by velvetsacks. She wrote a blog the other day about a program called challenge day. In my life I am all too familiar with programs designed to help our youth deal with bullying. Velvet's blog resurrected feelings and memories for me, ones I really choose not to revisit. As I look back , it started for my daughters in 4th grade, it was subtle.....but the bullying, relational aggression, whatever you want to call it was beginning to rear it's ugly head. It began to manifest itself into their lack of sleeping, appetite, confidence, in a nut shell, they began to feel worthless. I, as a mom, felt as if I was struggling to save my daughters from a rare, incurable, and fatal disease. Two of those previous descriptions, rare and incurable are far from the truth, fatal it CAN be. We struggled for the next two years, 6th grade came along, and I actually felt as if my daughters spirits had been broken. One week during 6th grade, it was becoming extremely intense in our home, and I literally felt myself choking on my heart. I decided to leave work at lunch to drop in on my daughters school. I arrived about 5 minutes into their lunch. When I entered the cafeteria through the side door, the only part of my body that saw, felt, and listened was my heart, the heart of a mother, the heart of a human being that has felt this in her life as a child, and at times as an adult. As I panned the room I noticed NO ONE was aware of what was happening, but me, the givers and the receivers. My girls happened to be the receivers that day, again. Now let me tell you, they don't have the "thick skin" that I have, and they may never have. Their sensitivity is a gift, and they shouldn't HAVE to change, it's who they are. That day, the looks I saw darting back and forth across that cafeteria were enough to frighten me, even I felt intimidated. Girls are silent daunters. My girls were sitting alone, right where those "other" girls wanted them. As I looked at my daughters faces, I could see it took every shred of power within them to keep from crying, until they spotted me. I backed off until after lunch, because I think I wanted to kill someone. I went to the principles office and told him I was taking the girls out of school for the rest of the day, and that we had plans.

When my daughters and I moved to this community, I was going through a divorce, we all were going through our own difficult times. But without a doubt, I knew we were the bastards of the community. The school I chose to send them to was a small Christian school. The background of their fellow students went back 3 to 4 generations. We were for the most part happy with our move, and we did love the school. After 6th grade, I for the most part had gotten fed up with the atmosphere there. The cruelty had been fostered by some of the teachers if you can believe it. When they reached 7th grade I went to a parent teacher conference and begged the teacher to do something about these issues, I had already spent 3 years online researching bullying, and you couldn't tell me it wasn't real. I purchased the teacher books on the subject, brought her information on where to look for help, contacted a Judge in a neighboring town who writes material on the subject. I had given this teacher an arsenal, and all she could say to me was,"Sandy, I DON'T have time for this". I felt like someone knocked the wind out of me. I told her that she was loosing productive time in class with all of this bullying going on, I mean what child can concentrate in class thinking "who is whispering about me, who is making fun of me, and why didn't I get an invitation to that party?" The Judge I obtained the material from, KNEW how important it was that these issues be addressed, because many of the youth he encountered in court had been the victims of such cruelty, they just chose to handle it with drugs, knifes, guns. I did continue to pursue the issue with the principle, pastor, anyone who would listen, and finally they implemented a program, but it wasn't strong enough, they didn't make it known that they are zero tolerance. And it was hard for them to admit they had a problem.

When 8th grade rolled around, we chose to home school. The teacher that told me she didn't have time for this, sat down on her porch and cried when I told her the girls wouldn't be returning, she also told me she didn't want to deal with it, because it brought back too many painful memories for her. She figured she survived, so will her students. This torture that happens in schools stays with us for a life time, some of us are able to put it on it's proper shelf in our minds, for others it never goes away, and causes us to bully others the rest of our lives. We all carry pain of some sort in our lives, most of us handle it fairly well, but for children and teenagers who can't handle it, they use drugs, kill fellow students, or commit suicide. EVERY student deserves to be respected for who they are, they deserve to attend school without fear, they deserve to feel accepted and loved. Diversity training is a place to start.


High school is now here, and talk about preconceived notions...my girls think all of the pretty girls have perfect lives, and have suffered no pain. WRONG!! I told my daughters, you all share the trauma of pain, no one is exempt from life, so don't think for a moment you don't have anything in common with the wealthy, or pretty, or popular girls, and also those on the opposite end of the economic scale, because you do, we have all been hurt. While driving one of my daughters home from a football game a month ago, her friend happened to hitch a ride with us, she, as my daughter put it, is one of the most popular girls in 9th grade, cute as can be, her parents have a showcase home, and drive beautiful new vehicles. I was listening to them talk about scary movies and the girl said to my daughter, "I get scared really easy, I can't watch those movies". My daughter asked why, and the girl told her it's because she had been raped as a child, in the dark, by a man her family trusted. My daughter told her she was so sorry. I asked the girl if he is still in prison, she said no, so I then asked his name (so I could check this out for myself), I went on Michigans sex offender web site, and sure enough I saw his face and what he did time for, he now lives in a lovely home in my neighboring community. My daughter learned first hand a valuable lesson that evening, don't judge people. She kept saying to me after we dropped that girl off, "mom, I would have never guessed that could have happened to her" I could actually see my daughters mind and heart grow as she thought about what she just heard. I reminded her why we all deserve acceptance and love, no matter where we come from. This Challenge Day workshop is a program I will look into further, I wish it would be a part of the curriculum. I don't think the day is far off where that will happen, because we won't have a choice, I don't see that we have one right now.

But by the grace of God, they made it off to highschool.

I haven't choked them yet. Last night I said it, words my mother said to me, but I don't think she meant them as much as I did. ANGELA, I can only hope you have 5 daughters....no wait, 8. I told her when she comes crying to me one day, I'm going to laugh, but only on the inside. Then I proceded to tell her I'm going to become senile one day, and visit her at her home, and shit in her best chair. She said to me, "I'll leave you there mom, you will die in that chair". Then I in turn told her, "someone would miss me", she said "yea, you're right, but they'll plan a party because YOU'RE DEAD!!!" You may wonder how people that love each other so much can speak that way to each other, I wonder that also. The word bitch as never entered my mind as much as it has these past 3 months. My lovely family (it took a lot to type that) believes in passive parenting, if you don't know what that is, look it up. Passive parenting is sort of like passive living, lay your ass down in the center lane of a highway, and let several wheels run over you. My family has this belief that no matter what my girls do, or what awful things happen to them, somehow I'm responsible, sounds screwy to me, whatever happened to personal responsibilty, it's called "the choices they make" I know now, after raising my daughters for 14 short years, you work strictly by your gut. Now boys are entering the picture (those bastards). My father told me many, many years ago, the one and only thing boys want....I listened to him, I remained a virgin up until I was almost 18, and then I shouldn't have given it away. So I tell my daughters the same thing. Thank God they can talk to me most of the time about sex, but I'm sure there are many things they don't tell me. Like the other evening, I was driving Amanda to get her hair cut, she turned to me and said, "mom, the other day, so and so (so and so is 13) gave Tommy a boner", I looked at Amanda and said," Why do you tell me this stuff when I'm driving 55 MPH?? Do you know what a boner is???? It's an erection, a hard on, the boy is excited...do you really know what that is?" She said," I do now". She also let me know she really doesn't want to hang with so and so to much anymore, because ALL she wants to talk about is boys. (Great sense of relief from my body came out!) In my heart I know it will turn out alright, part of the reason is because I'm involved emotionally with them, but it can be so draining. Our heads are in two completely different places, they would tell you mine is up my ass, and I'd tell you that is where they keep theirs. So fooey, phooy, or phoey, however you spell it, on that passive parenting shit, I'm choosing to stay involved, and right up their rectum till their minds mature. I love them enough to let them hate me right now. When the day comes, and they are wearing their caps and gowns, hopefully drug free, top of their class, unpregnant, and two responsible members of society, my lovely family can pat themselves on the back for the great job they have done. I for one will be thanking God for all of His help, I couldn't do it without Him.