Michael here in Stephenville.  Today has been very emotional for many reasons.  I will not be in this school room next year, so I am having to clear everything out for the first time since I started working here in 2000.  Everywhere I turn I find reminders of Lorena.  We teachers are milling around and bumping into each other much more than we normally do — and it seems that each one asks if there is any updates on Lorena. 

I am going to post some emails that I have received for Lorena. 

In response, Jonathan wrote: 

We are so blessed.  Each time we call, I pass such messages along to Lorena and remind her of how much she is loved and missed by so many people.  Each time, she cries (and I often join in because I hate for her to have to cry alone), and then we laugh.  So it should be with blessings.  They touch us so deeply — and make us feel so wonderful!!!  Thank you to all of you out there who support us so much.  You may not think of yourself as a blessing, but you are. 

Lorena, you ARE loved, and you ARE missed!!!  Work hard, Darling, and GET WELL!!!

We just completed a FANTASTIC call to Lorena.  She was in fine form.  The girls caught her up on all their doings, and then we passed on a seemingly endless bunch of greetings and messages from all you folks out there.  She was more vocal than normal, and she let us know that she loved hearing from all of you and she loves to get your phone calls, Duane.

Norma and Thomas, she was delighted to hear about your baby.  Judy Kennerly, Mike and Debbie, Jonathon Hutson, Diana Locke, Diane, Gina, Jerome and Ruth, David, Betty and Ronnie, Amauri:  she was especially excited to hear your news or greetings.  Sandra (Pricer), she was glad to hear that you have remarried — and we want to know the particulars!!!!  Congratulations!!!  Walter will be happy!!!

Toward the end of our conversation, the nurse began saying “No” repeatedly, passing on to us what Lorena was saying.  I told her I love her. 
“No!” 
“Yes, I do!!!  I love you more than you can know!!!”
“No!”
No matter what we would say, she would say, “No.”
I then asked her if she was teasing us — and got the most wonderful, true to the pre-stroke-Lorena-Laugh that I have heard in over two years.  She was just playing with us and having fun.  Loudly.  I started whooping and hollering, congratulating her, and telling her how wonderful it makes me feel to hear her laughing like that and to hear her wonderful sense of humor again — and she continued laughing.  She is obviously doing MUCH better.than she was!!!  Her miracle continues!!!  To God be the glory!!!!  I believe with all my heart that she will be back…

Some of my ancestors [Holder, TX, 1930's]:  My G-grandmother Mary
Elizabeth Dalton Thomas (cousin to the Dalton brothers who got shot to
ribbons trying to rob the banks in Coffeyville, Kansas, and related by
marriage to the Younger brothers), G-grandfather James Hardy (Jim)
Thomas, Grandfather Otis Dewey Thomas, Grandmother Flossie Jane Jones
Thomas, my father Otis Wayne Thomas (youngest), Desmond Thomas (died of
Marfan’s Syndrome when I was a baby), Dorothy Thomas Thomas. 
(Even though Dot’s surname did not change when she married, only Mary
Dalton Thomas was born in Arkansas [1868] (LOL).  Far right was a
Thomas cousin from Georgia where Jim Thomas was born. 

Hillman Thomas (of a different group of Thomases.)  I told Uncle
Hill  I had to post this one.  It will make him so proud!!!

Dorothy Thomas playing in the front yard during the Great Depression.

Thomas family:  Dorothy, Gerald, Hill, Ronald, Hilda, James.

1973 Thomas photo at Holder Baptist Church (where Lorena and I were
married here in the States):  Hilda, Aunt Dot, James, Uncle Hill,
Gerald.

Michael and the girls back in Stephenville.  Once again, we did
not get to talk to Lorena last night, but last night the fault was our
own because we did not get back to Stephenville until the early morning
hours.  The anniversary celebration was wonderful, and it made me
once again rejoice and give thanks for the family into which I was
born.  Our daughters were, as always, gracious and beautiful, and
the fellowship and hilarious reminisces rejuvenated me.  I could
feel tension and stress drain away.  Laughter truly is a
miraculous medicine.  The only thing lacking to make it a perfect
day was the absence of Lorena.  However, she was absent only in
the corporeal sense because she was certainly present in all our hearts
and minds.  Everyone asked about her, gave me messages to pass on
to her, and shared memories about her.  We love you, Lorena, and
you are sorely missed.

Dorothy and Hill are both looking wonderful.  Hill has his
black eyed peas and oats planted.  He said he doesn’t have any
watermelons or cantaloupes  planted yet, but I am sure he
will.  I will always think of him in one of two ways.  Every
night that I spent over at their house, I knew that no matter how early
we kids got up the next morning, Hill would be sitting in the kitchen
in his old slat-backed chair leaned back against the wall, drinking
coffee and listening to KBWD radio.  The other huge memory context
in my mind for Uncle Hill is the Poppin’ Johnny.  I always thought
he had had that ancient John Deere tractor since time began.  Dad
had an old International Harvestor Co. Farmall tractor and a little old
Ford tractor, so that was what I was used to listening to at
home.  Grandpa Smith let Ryan and me drive his little Ford
tractor, so that reinforced that “tractor sound” for me. 
But  in my memory, the counterpoint to most of my  play
with  Ronnie and Gerald was  the  irregular stacatto of
the ol’ Poppin’  Johnny down in the sand field at the back of the
pasture.  Those were some wonderful days.  He raised the best
watermelons (yellow meated) that I ever ate…

Yesterday, it struck me again that the folks I know and love, the folks
I grew up with, are the backbone of the US, and they are what make it
the nation it is.  Good, kind, decent, hard-working,
uncomplaining:  I find it a daily challenge to live up to the
legacy that they have left me.  I pray that I can honor them and
do justice to the tasks they and their ancestors bequeathed me. 
If I am, somehow, able to approximate the kind of people they were, I
will be a man among giants.  World War I, the Great
Depression,  World War 2, Korea, Vietnam:  the men who
volunteered or were drafted served honorably and valiently while those
who were left behind worked doubly hard to keep the farms and ranches
going, and the women pitched in and worked side by side with the men in
the fields even as they did double duty cookin’, cleanin’, and
mamma-in’.  I find myself falling incredibly and woefully short
when I compare myself to them.  Dot and Hill,  Jerome and
Ruth Smith, Wanda and Dean Singleton, Doris and Divern Wheeler:  I
amazed at the quality of the people who shaped my character.
 
Ronald and Betty were there, as were Gerald, Ginger, and William. 
Ronnie and I were inseparable growing up, and Gerald and Steven were
usually playing with us or nearby.  We had a ton of laughs as we
talked over the old days.  Lorena really liked Ronnie and Betty,
and we had planned to spend more time with them after her graduation,
so they had innumerable questions about her condition.

Hilda, Harmon, Thomas and Josh foster were there, as was Thomas’s wife
Norma, their son, Norma’s mother and sister, and Josh fiancee. 
Norma is Latina, and she and Lorena very quickly became extremely close
after she and Thomas married.  Again, we had planned to visit them
often after they moved to Brownwood and he became a drug dealer there
(as the hospital pharmacist… *teehee*)   Lorena will be
tickled when she learns that Norma is expecting again.

Wanda and Dean Singleton,  Doris and Divern Wheeler, and so many
others.  It really was uplifting to see everyone again.

James and Laverne, Cindy, and David were all missing.  I would
really like to have seen them.  They are doing well, and they are
all still in the birds business, breeding and raising parrots,
parakeets, cockatoos, cockatiels, lovebirds, you name it.  Here at
home, all I can raise are cuckoos and looney birds…  [Gotcha,
girls!!!]

The highlight of the evening (other than seeing everyone), was when one
of the guests, upon being introduced to Gerald (who has long hair and
beard and looks like some Western desperado) misunderstood that he was
Hill’s father, whereupon he was congratulated for having such a fine
son (Hill) and daughter-in-law (Dorothy).  I was afraid Hilda was
going to hurt herself laughing…

Afterwards, we did a little nature tour — and found the most
incredible inch worm I have ever seen.  I had picked some new
growth off a briar to eat — but there was a dead, curled-up leaf on
it.  I tried to pick the leaf off, only to find that it was an
ingeniously camouflaged inch worm.  It literally looked like an
old, curled up, dried leaf.  Later, then, on the drive on over to
Jerome and Ruth’s, I stopped to get a tortoise out of the middle of the
highway lest we recreate the opening scene of The Grapes of Wrath. 
I sat Mr. Tortoise off the road in the direction he had been traveling
– and he promptly turned around and headed back up onto the
highway.  Deciding he was either suicidal, crazy, or had been
eating funny mushrooms, I carried him on over to Jerome and Ruth’s
house where I released him out in the pasture.

We had a great time at Jerome and Ruth’s.  They are among my
favorite people in the world — and Lorena loves them dearly.  We
had a great visit, and then they drove us an hour out just south of
Abilene to Buffalo Gap to eat at a fantastic ranch restaurant.  We
got back to their house at about 1:30 a.m. — and headed back to
Stephenville at about 3:00 a.m.  It was a WONDERFUL visit.

Supaporn Netremanee and Gaurav Gupta just dropped supper off for
us!!!  Amid much bowing and scraping (and hugging and laughing),
she delivered a huge pot of Phad Preaw Hwan and a smaller dish of Peak
Kao Pod (with jack fruit, chestnut, corn, and apple.)  It is
DELICIOUS!!!!  Needless to say, I will not need to eat again for
about a week. 

We will try Lorena again in a few minutes and let you know what we
discover.  We will be going down sometime this summer, but we are
not sure just when that will be.  Take care.  We love you
all….

Michael and the girls here in Stephenville.  We have tried to call Lorena several times this week, but each time we have found her in therapy, usually speech therapy with Blanca, and it has been so late that we would simply leave greetings for her with whomever answered the phone and tell them that we would try again the next day.  It is very frustrating not to be able to speak with her — even as it is simultaneously exhilirating knowing that she is receiving extensive therapy AND GETTING BETTER!!!  We will try to speak with her again tonight…  We have our collective fingers crossed…

It is so WONDERFUL to see more of you making comments on here to Lorena.  She will be tickled to hear from Mike and Debbie Odell and Amauri and Barbara Martinez.  Please, if you have special greetings for Lorena, want to update her on what is going on in your life, or would like to share memories with her (and put them on the record) PLEASE CREATE A XANGA ACCOUNT AND MAKE COMMENTS.  This is both a conduit to Lorena and a historical account of the life she is missing as she recuperates.  She misses her friends and relatives not in the Tepic area bitterly, and this is a way to maintain contact with her.  Just click JOIN at the top of this page, create a user I.D. and a password (one of your email ID’s will probably work to keep it simple) — and talk to her.  We intend this to be a written history for her and for the rest of us.

Mike and Debbie Odell are wonderful folks, and Lorena loved visiting with them.  They were high on our list of people to spend more time with after she had finished her schooling, and they have faithfully kept up with her progress throughout this ordeal.  As well as being a colleague at Stephenville High School, Mike manages an exotic game ranch outside Dublin, and Lorena loved driving through their pastures and watching their bizarre and stunning menagerie.  She will cry when I read their message to her, but it will be a good cry.

Lorena had also wanted to get to know Amauri Martinez better — and she would LOVE Barbara Martinez.  Amauri was a paisano from Mexico who had come to Texas as a child, become a US citizen, and who teaches computer at SHS.  Lorena found a kindred spirit in him and identified closely with him.  He married his beautiful wife Barbara, who hails from Mexico City, after Lorena suffered her stroke.  Were Lorena here, I suspect that she and Barbara would now be very, very close because they are so very similar.  Again, she will cry when I read your greetings to her, Amauri and Barbara, but it will be a wonderful cry and sweet tears.  Thank you so much.

I was supposed to go over this evening to work with Amauri and Barbara on some math for the GRE they are both to take Saturday, but they were both in a meeting until late.  Consequently, I have to go over tomorrow night to help them — and to eat tinga.  Lorena will cry when I tell her about this, but only because she will be laughing so hard.  The last time I ate tinga, authentically prepared by a Chilango (person from Mexico City), Lorena said I looked like a tall, skinny Christmas light bulb because she said my head was glowing.  All I know is that the tinga was excellent, but I feared for awhile that my mouth was literally going to catch fire.  (I know how Joan of Arc felt at the end…)  Have mercy, Barbara!!!  I experienced a tingaling sensation in my mouth for a couple of days after that last experience…

We are well. 

We just tried Lorena; she is in therapy — and will be for another hour or so.  Therefore, we are going to bed, and we will try again tomorrow night.  Remember that if we call too early in the evening, she is often on a ride in the van.  Later she will be in therapy with Carlos or with Blanca, both of whom work with her after their regular jobs so that they come at no set times.  However, we will be able to talk to her again one of these days, and we will update you then.  The important thing is that her miracle continues.  To God be the glory!!!

Dena sent me the following link, and I would to send it — with my sincere best wishes — to all of you.  You are all so incredibly special to us, and I would like to verify the statements that your thoughts are touching Lorena, me and our family, shaping and shaking our world.  Thank you.  May you be blessed!!!

http://www.mayyoubeblessedmovie.com/

Michael and the girls here in Stephenville.  I apologize for the dearth of blogs lately.  We have been running circles, and, with school winding down, I find myself acutely behind where I should be, short of time, and even shorter of temper and patience.  Some girls might be knocking on your doors seeking refuge.  (All they ask is an Internet connection and television.  We have not had TV for several years now, so now that it is hooked back up, I fear my young addicts may be OD’ing.  I haven’t actually seen brain matter oozing from their ears yet, but their eyes are getting that glazed expression and their mouths are starting to hang open.)

Saturday we worked around here on the jungle that we call a lawn.  We haven’t dared venture into the Lost World called the “garden” because we are too intimidated by the shrieks, screams, and thunderous crashes of predators and victims.  I plan to start tentative forays into the garden as soon as I am able to procure a howitzer, a couple of rocket launchers, and some flame throwers…

Late in the day, we went to a dulcimer festival at Glen Rose.  The music was great (except that my “Yankee” lady guests were completely unappreciative of the red-neck, scatological, Southern ”humor” evidenced in some of the jokes and songs presented by several of the performers.  The high note of the evening [other than a fingernail-on-chalkboard falsetto performed by one of the male singers] occurred when my “Nawthun” lady friends learned that a squirrel running through the treetops had precipitated the fall [into the middle of a most unappreciative crowd] of a 4-5 foot snake.  After the gallant gentleman who removed the snake from the premises related the story [verified by his demure wife who was the epitome of honesty] to my guests, they watched the treetops much more than they watched the performers.

[I, on the other hand, was most appreciative of this opportunity to tell my now-totally-rattled guests about our Texas Gliding Vipers that lurk about in treetops here in Texas watching for unsuspecting Yankees upon whom they can launch themselves, gliding in silently from great distances, to sink their fearsome, lethal fangs into their terrified-but-doomed victims.  The abuse that those sweet little Yankee ladies subsequently heaped upon this poor little "Suthun" lad was reminiscent of the injustices of Reconstruction at its nastiest and most vindictive...]

We did get to hear some great mountain and hammer dulcimer music, though, and we thoroughly enjoyed the evening.  I only wish Lorena could have been with us.  She loves that sort of thing.

Sunday, we went to Decoration at Pleasant Valley cemetery.  The only representatives of our immediate family were Barbara and Bill Hudgins and the girls and I.  The crowd was very small this year, so it felt lonely, and I found myself very nostalgic.  Jerome and Ruth Smith were at A&M for David’s graduation.  The Youngs were meeting at Dorothy and Terry’s.  [Robby had competed Saturday at the State Track Meet.]  Little Cody Johnson had been in the hospital with pneumonia last week [and I had not blogged about it], so Dena and Craig were unable to attend.  We still had a great visit with several of the Becks and the Pittmans — and Darwin Dickerson (who was just honored as citizen of the year of the city of Comanche.)  Bill led a tour of all the family graves — and we had a great time reminiscing.  [This part of Texas was only settled in the 1870's, and I am related either by marriage or blood to almost all those interred there.]

We then made a pilgrimage around by Byrds Store, the old Thomas, Smith, Jones, and Boyd places.  Out on the dirt road between Tabor’s field and Jerome’s pasture, we ran a beautiful 4-5 foot rattler off the road.  I stopped and backed up as quickly as I could to where he had made his exit — where I jumped out and began searching the weeds in the bar ditch while Stephanie and Lya LOUDLY called me Stupid.  I really thought they might like to see a rattler closer up.  All I was able to find, though, was the burrow in which he had undoubtedly taken refuge. 

We related all this to Lorena when we called last night.  She was sounding great, and she cried very hard when we wished her Happy Mother’s Day.  We passed along a litany of greetings and messages from all of you who have asked us to tell her things.  Again, it would have been great to have had her with us.  She really is sounding stronger.

By the way, many of you know that I have been looking at work in Iraq or Afghanistan to pay for Lorena’s care.  I have decided to wait one more year because next year is Stephi’s senior year and I feel I need to be here for that.  I also need to take care of much more business around here before I head overseas.  I just wanted to let folks know on here because it will save me many individual explanations later to you folks.  We will see how it goes next year…

Hilda Thomas called tonight to invite us to Dorothy and Hillman Thomas’s 60th wedding anniversary at Crossroads Baptist Church next Saturday (20 May, 2006) near Sandy Beach on the State Park Road from 2:00-4:00.  We are planning to have a small Thomas family reunion afterwards, so consider this an invitation.  I don’t get to see Aunt Dot and Uncle Hill nearly as much as I should, and I really miss them.  It has been years since I have seen most of my other relatives on that side of the family.  I sure hope there is a good turnout.  Lorena would be right in the big middle of it if she could be…

Well, it is much too late, and I am much too tired to continue here.  (Besides that, I must go out and make sure that our trees are clear of Texas Gliding Vipers and Rattlers.)  [This is where Lorena would jab me in the ribs...] 

Take care; we love you — and Lorena promises that she is coming back…  Her miracle continues.  To God be the glory…

I have been very busy with everything, so I asked (repeatedly) Stephi to blog.  What a job, Stephanie.  For supper tonight, I will fix you a piece of macaroni and cheese…

Michael here in Stephenville.  It has been far too long since I have gotten on here.  We are well.  Stephanie survived her Powder Puff game.  In fact, there were no ambulance runs at all.   The juniors won, injuries were minimal, there were no criminal assaults, and the game did not have to be called…  All in all, it was a learning experience for all concerned:  Stephi learned that X’s and 0′s have more uses than merely to play tic-tac-toe or to sign love notes.  Some referees learned the importance of keeping the clock running ALL the time in a Powder Puff game.  And I learned that I will be eminently rich and famous if I can only find a means of harvesting the energy contained in trash talking before, during, and after a Powder Puff game…

Lorena has sounded great the last few times we have called.  She tries to talk more often, although we cannot make out the words she is trying to say.  She is laughing (and crying) [appropriately, I might add] harder and more often than she had in the past.  There is absolutely no doubt that she is getting better steadily.

Later tonight, I will try to blog some more, but right now I must go home to get ready for an Art Honor Society banquet that I get to attend with my two daughters, Stephi and L.  L came into my classroom the other day, put her head down on her desk — and started boo-hooing as if her heart would break.  When I asked her what was wrong, she told me that none of her family would go to the Art Honor Society with her.  Her mom is going camping with boyfriend, so L is having to stay with her grandmother, and grandmother refuses to go to the AHS banquet because she is on a diet.  Having told me this she started bawling really hard as she said, “I just want someone to be proud of me…”  I hugged her and said I would be honored to go to the banquet with her if she would have me.  She gave me a big hug and said that would be wonderful.  I sent her back to art class to tell Mrs. Waters our plans in case seating was assigned at the banquet so that L would be seated with Steph and me.  L came back to class beaming; Mrs. Waters had talked the story out of her and then told her, “That will be no problem.  And I will be sitting on the other side of you.”  Mrs. Waters then let L watch as she changed the seating chart so that L will be sitting between me and Mrs. Waters.  L hugged me again and thanked me, then said, “It will be nice sitting by you — but it is really cool to get to sit by the art teacher!”  [Surely, math teachers are okay, too, though...]

Our team beat the seniors at powder puff….pretty sweet

steph

Michael here in Stephenville where Stephanie “The Stomper” Thomas is bashing and crashing her way into Powder Puff football.  Just as any sensible girl would do, she says she has always wanted to play football, but “I am really just doing it to get the T-shirt.”

Stephanie doesn’t know much about football.  She told me she has been made an offensive linewoman — and then she asked me what an offensive linewoman does.  I received a huge eye-rolling response when I replied that I had expected her to be on the offensive team because she can be pretty offensive at times.  Ironically, that comment immediately put her on the defensive, to which she quickly responded by becoming even more offensive.

Actually, I asked if they were wearing pads and helmets this year because each year in the course of our dainty little Powder Puff game we get a few broken collarbones, arms, noses, and various other appendages and protuberances, along with enough scrapes, bruises, sprains, pulls, and tears to put an entire pro football team on injured reserve.  The girls start the games playing flag football, but the game soon disintegrates into a combination of Mad Max at the Armageddon Super Bowl and The Longest Yard Roman Gladiatorial style.  I now know why most schools do not allow girls to play football.  It is to protect us poor guys from the viciousness of “the fairer sex.”

The powder puff teams are coached by varsity football players overseen by the football coaching staff.  Stephanie said they were warned against playing rough, but she overheard some of the coaches trying to decide just how long it would take the girls to start going for the jugular instead of the flag.  Apparently the betting line is running from one minute to two minutes before the mayhem begins.  Tackling is much more effective than grabbing a little wispy piece of plastic bunting wafting in the breeze.  Tackling is also, of course, much more satisfying, and it makes much more of a statement.

Stephanie has opened my eyes to a few things.  She is playing for a T-shirt, but she said that the rosters really fill up as girls find out who has signed up to play.  Girl A signs up, so Girl B signs up to play on the other team to give Girl A some payback, so Girl C signs up to play on the other team to teach Girl B a lesson, so Girls D-Z sign up to get their own licks in.  Soon the teams are filled with 16th and 17th string players, which causes great consternation among the players because several of the girls are fearful that they will not be able to dole out the retribution they signed up to deliver either because the game will be over before they get to play or the dainty young lady they signed on to punish will already be in the hospital…

Some of the highlight quotes of the week:

•  Stephi:  “Daddy, I got yelled at in practice today.” 
   Me:  “Why?  What did you do?”
   Stephi:  “We were about to run a play when I looked down at the girl’s
               hands on the other side of the line, and I said, ‘Ooh!!!    I like 
               your fingernails!!!  What color is that???’  And then my coach
               yelled, ‘NO!!!  NOT IN FOOTBALL!!!  You NEVER say
               ANYTHING like that in FOOTBALL!!!’”
    Me:  “What did you do then?”
    Stephi:  “I said, ‘Okay.  But I really do like her fingernails…’.”
    Me:  “What did he do then?”
    Stephi:  “His face just turned real red, and he yelled, ‘NOT IN
              FOOTBALL!  YOU NEVER DO THAT IN FOOTBALL!’”

•  Stephi:  “Daddy, we all got yelled at in practice today by the
               coaches.”
    Me:  “What happened, Steph?”
   Stephi:  “The coaches had just explained a play to us and we were
              supposed to practice it, but then someone walked up with a
              real pretty little puppy, so all of us ran over to it to coo over it
              and to pet it.  We were all saying, ‘Oooooooh, it looks
              sooooooooooo cute!!!  What’s its name?  May I hold it?
              Oooooooooh, it is so soft!  Do you have any more?’  And then
              all the coaches started yelling, ‘NOT IN FOOTBALL!!!  GET
              THAT DOG OUT OF HERE!!!  YOU NEVER DO THAT IN
              FOOTBALL!!!  GET AWAY FROM THAT DOG!!!  GET
              OUT ON THE FIELD!!!’  Daddy, they acted like they were
              going to go crazy…”

•  Stephi:  “Daddy, what does an offensive tackle do?  The coaches
              have made me an offensive tackle.”
   Me:  ”As an offensive tackle, you will block the players on the defense
            to protect your back field and to open up holes for your
            running backs to run through.” 
   Stephi: ”So I tackle the players on the other team?”
   Me:  “No, Stephanie, you BLOCK the players on the other team.”
   Stephi [holding her elbows out in front of her like lethal battering
            rams]:  “So I block the other players like this, and then I tackle
            them?”
   Me:  “No, Stephi, you cannot elbow the other players; you cannot
           grab them; you can only block them.  You will NEVER tackle
           them.”
   Stephi [incredulously]:  “I never get to tackle anybody???  Why did
           they say I would be an offensive tackle then?  That stinks!  I
           want to tackle somebody!”

My dainty little offensive tackle went to another prom last night, resplendent in a pink evening gown with pink roses embedded in the cute little curls in her very expensive coiffure.  I had the distinct pleasure of spending an hour sitting in a beauty salon waiting for her, watching everyone’s reactions as I sat there (with my shaved pate) acting as if I were next in line — and telling the stylist, when she would ask the occasional guy who came in for a haircut how he wanted it cut, to cut it like mine — and then watching the guy’s reaction.  [Only later did one of my dear ones point out to me that everyone probably only thought that I was in there to get my head waxed.  Ouch!] 

Suffice it to say, I have the most beautiful little offensive tackle anywhere in football.  [And I can hear the coaches apoplectically yelling, "NO!!!  NOT IN FOOTBALL!!!  NEVER IN FOOTBALL!!!"]

I can’t wait to report all of this to Lorena tonight.  Her laughter will be wonderful to hear…

Michael back again.  We had a great conversation with Lorena last night.  It was the first call in quite awhile because each time we would call, she would be working in some kind of therapy — with another 30 minutes to an hour to go.  I have been very busy lately, and getting these girls to blog is much like getting Patrick Kennedy to cast his ballot in a crucial House vote at 3:00 a.m.; they get busy doing something else, so they just never get around to it — and then they forget that they were even supposed to do it…

The visit last night was great.  Lorena laughed many times, mostly when I bellyached to her about the abuse I have to endure here from these so-called “little ladies”.  I am seriously thinking of changing my name to Matt because I am always being walked on around here…

Needless to say, the final installment of the cloves-flavored onion soup saga elicited a great Mexicana guffaw.  Technically, I suppose that Lorena had the last laugh regarding my latest culinary adventure.  However, here at home, the last laugh was mine to savor as I watched the girls metamorphose from clove-onion-soup skeptics to enthusiastic converts, initially ridiculing my gastronomic genius, then sampling my scrumptious creation, then scarfing it down like a bunch of starving high school guys on a pepperoni pizza.  I am having difficulty deciding if my next onion soup creation will feature chocolate, butterscotch, or peanut butter.  I don’t know exactly when this next heavenly batch of ambrosia will be ready, but I will accept orders now.  You had better hurry, though, because it will go fast…

There were three hard cries last night.  The first occurred after I told Lorena about a surprise email I had received from the beautiful Priscilla McBride Monson.  Prissy is a (very young) old, dear friend.  She played piano at our wedding, and then, years later, plied us both liberally with champagne at her own wedding.  Lorena and Prissy clicked from the moment they met, and visiting more with Prissy was one of those plans we had slated in for after Lorena’s MBA graduation.

Anyway, Prissy wrote:   Still clever after all these years!   [Prissy, be civil; that hurt!!!]  Actually, I tried to post a long letter that I had written to Lorena at Christmas-time, but I somehow lost it during the posting process!  Shows you how smart I am!   I have read this blog faithfully for months now, having been directed to it by Ruth Smith.  Truthfully, I feel saddened on the days when it doesn’t arrive in my inbox.  My prayers for Lorena are ever-present, and your family stays within my heart and mind always.

I will once again try to write a long letter for Lorena and post it on the blog.  I also have for you some of your original letters that you sent to me from Germany….they detail your engagement to Lorena, and I want you and your family to have them.  I kept every letter you sent to me during those embarrassing times!   (Remember????)  They are in storage, and once I put my hands on them, I will return them to you.  I know that Lorena will love reading them!