Merry Christmas!!!!

As a kid I was always to practical. I was curious. I wanted to know why. Ok I'm like six, I think, and I'm beginning to question this whole Santa Claus thing. Reindeer that fly, an old man with one sack and one night getting to every kid in the world in one night? Come on!!!! I got toys even if I wasn't good and which Santa was the real one? The one at Shepards, at Woolworth's ,or the one driving the garbage truck down the street on Christmas Eve? I personally always believe n the big guy at the Outlet Co. He had real beard, I know, I yanked it once. But there couldn't be more than one...helpers?...yea right ...my sisters my buy that one but not me.

So posed some of these questions to mom and we decided that would I wait up all night if necessary  to meet the real Mr. Claus in person, in my own house. I figured I had to hide because I was told that he wouldn't come if I was discovered lying in wait. I took my position on the stairs overlooking the tree and I waited determine to catch the old man in the act.

Well I stayed awake for about an hour. I awoke to a room full of presents and a sore shoulder from sleeping on the stairs. The old man came and did his job so I guess I would have to wait another year and figure another way to catch the red suited chimney drooping man from the North Pole.

Merry Christmas everyone!!!

A weak back about a week back

I'm laying here on the floor tonight trying to do this blog with my ipad held over my head because it hurts to sit at my desk. I moved to much the wrong way again and my back said no and my mind said ooohhhhh!!  I'm use to it happening and it is only temporary but it stinks non the less. I'm not gonna say anything about getting old or taking some drug or going to a chiropractor or herbs, massages, witchcraft or anything else. I just gonna lay here and suffer till it gets better. It's like a cold. It has to run its course. Of course I''ll be stupid and push some snow around or stack some wood or move a stack of floor tile from the porch to the new downstairs apartment ( next weeks blog ...maybe). I can t help myself. If I can move I gotta do something. It is stupid I know but heh I'm...( you fill in the rest)

So until next week or when I can write sitting up again this gonna have to do for now  

Old White Guys

We wander the aisle like lost souls searching for the Holy Grail or battery that fits our old power drill. We endlessly search for a two by four that is straight and paint brush that is made from the hair of some albino goat from the Himalayas but only works with latex paint exotic and costs more than my daughters college education.
We all of the same tribe, old white guys at Home Depot. We have scruffy beards, ripped jeans, some of us wear shorts even when it is 30 degrees outside. We ain't hip enough for smart phones but have the latest pickup that has never seen a piece of lumber in the back for fear of scratching the poor machine. We don't ask for help unless we are desperate and now we are because we have bought the wrong size bolt three times today and we are to embarrassed to go to the same cashier again so I guess we will ask one of the guys who look like us wandering the aisles in orange vests. We like country music because every guy with a pickup has too....ITS THE LAW!!
We fix things or at least attempt to. It gets us out of the house. We are with other guys, all staring at the package of bolts, warped 2x4's that the other guy didn't want or the endless rows of plumbing pipes and fittings for a toilet the has been leaking for 15 years. Heh...the snow blowers are out under the fake Christmas trees next to the blow up Santa who is stuck in some inflated chimney.
Ah Saturdays are great here. A safe haven... a place to wander in a mans world. It is that a woman coming towards me getting ready to ask me if I need help finding the right socket wrench? If I just say I'm ok maybe she will move on to the next poor soul and leave me to wander and search in my ignorant bliss.     

Dead

I sat down next to him wondering why he was alone today. His long time friend and he were usually inseparable. "Where is Bob", I asked. He looked up from reading his paper to say matter of fact, "He is dead". I sat there for a moment stunned at his announcement. Now both of these men where in there 80's and they often talked about how old they both were and how they had had such long and fulfilling lives. We would talk about death and its inevitability. Not in a sad way but as was a part of life. A beginning ,a middle and an end. "What happened?" I asked hesitantly. "He went to bed and never woke up." he said. We talked a bit more but I got the feeling that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts or at least read the sports without my interrupting questions.

I think of death often. I think about it as a part of life. I am fascinated with how we , as a society, deal with it. We all have way of dealing with death and what it means to us. But today I was more fascinated with the words that we use to describe death. He passed on, departed ( like a plane leaving the terminal), cashed in his chips, is taking a dirt nap, kicked the bucket, bought the farm and one of my favorites ....sleeps with the fishes.

I was watching the news regarding the death of Nelson Mandela and somebody said that he had expired...( What?....like the warranty on my kindle?) ...others said that he was lost...( like the morning I couldn't find my phone?). Finally I heard from somebody who describe the feelings of most of his countrymen. He had a "transitional passing". It was a description of this as part of his life. He had done his work and moved on to become a memory. Somebody that they would think of more for what he stood for than the his physical presence here on earth.

You can believe what you want about what happens when we stop breathing, as somebody once said, "whatever gets you thru the night" To me it is a personal matter. I live better knowing that there is an end. In the moment I guess. But the reality is that someday all of us and everyone we know will be dead....so enjoy what you have while you have it.

PS ..This what not meant to be depressing. Just my thoughts on death...maybe its more about life.

Have a great day!!  

Thanksgiving

It is has always been my favorite holiday. It is American, its food, family, friends and football...what could be better. I enjoy it because most people get to stop and enjoy some or all of those things. Most people celebrate it in some way. Unlike other holidays that have become more fragmented and enjoyed by some but insulting to others....ahhh...I cant keep up with what is politically correct. (what do you call that tree some of us buy in another few weeks ?)

I have memories of Thanksgiving that include driving to my sister's house with my father and I talking so much about politics and Notre Dame football that I miss the exit. The tradition of listening to Arlo Guthrie at noon time no matter where I am. The day that I picked to vegan for the next 15 years. ( I am back to gobbling on almost everything now.)

Well this a the holiday version of my blog so I'm gonna be short because I have to get the pies and wine. Try to be thankful tomorrow and everyday for what you

have

.  There is plenty of time to get the things that you

want,

later. I hope that everyone has a safe and Happy Thanksgiving

PS   I hope that the balloons get off the ground tomorrow

Shopping

As we walk down the aisle of the auto parts store I'm reminded of a day many years ago when my daughter was 6 years old and we were Christmas shopping for mom in a local clothing store and she wanted to pick out the present on her own. She directed me to leave her alone and to go to another part of the store but not to leave. I caught the eye of member of the stores sales staff and asked if she could help my daughter. I drifted into the shadows in another part of the store and watched as my daughter meticulously set out to find the perfect gift. It took a half hour of patience by the store clerk and many scarfs, hand bags and gloves before my daughter decided on the perfect gift. I knew that she was done because as they both approached the counter my daughter suddenly began looking around for me...and the cash. She asked if I had some money that she could borrow because this was her gift and since she was to young to have a job so she had to use my money but she would pay me back.
Well now some 16 years later I'm shopping again but in what seemed to me to be an unlikely place for both of us to be shopping together ,an auto parts store. She had just gotten her first car and I was in town to help with insurance ,registration, inspections , etc.  Well all of that was finished now and we were trolling the aisles looking for windshield wipers ,an ice scraper and other things that she or I thought she would need in the new wheels. It was a scene that I could not have envisioned that day before Christmas many years ago but as we both stood shivering in the parking lot putting on the new wipers and she asked if I could show her how to check the oil I knew that time may change but it is what you do together with that time that is important.

Sleep?

No Sleep....well not no sleep at all but the kind of night where I toss and turn get up watch a rerun of Andy Griffith and an infomercial with my look a like Chuck Norris and his Total Gym and pass out for and hour on the couch then check my email and pay some bills at 2:45am while listening to something in the backyard that sounds like a coyote or fox or a neighbor who has the same problem as me and is outside raking his leaves.....wait I'm losing my mind....relax...so its 3:45am I can still get a few hours of sleep and have a productive day...I can turn off my computer, tv and cell phone but I don't have a switch for my brain. Ok lets plan the day while I lay on couch wondering how I'm gonna paint the ceiling without getting some kind of scaffolding......I can focus...what was I thinking about ...oh yea...planning my day...mmmm Home Depot...call the insurance company...did I just pay their bill?? ...its that the sound of the boiler or the dog snoring?... a burglar?...dammm I'm drifting again...heh wait I must be tired ...lets try to sleep again...to late...I hear the birds...its morning...the sun will be up soon...lets see what Al Roker is doing ....ahh a beautiful sunny morning....another 16 hours and I'll try that sleep thing again... 

I hate to give up.

I know that it is the end of summer and the growing season. I know this because I'm raking leaves everyday. I know because wearing shorts while walking the dog in the morning is starting to get some stares...( I'm used to that ...I wear shorts all the time...) , at least I hope that is why they are staring at me. The summer is over but I cant give up on things so easily like the tomato plants hanging from the Job Lot bought upside down tomato growing thing on the porch. There are a few tomatoes clinging to life and I want to give them a chance at another sunny day before I devour them in my salad. I know that the hanging plants that we bought in May are almost dead but I water them everyday somehow hoping that the water will give them some kind of the ability to survive 30 degree nights.
I also extended this never give up behavior to other things like , keeping old tee shirts that are more holes than cloth, saving boxes that come from UPS because you never know when you will need one for something I've sold on EBay and I hate to give up on food that still might be edible but might not look or smell like it used to.
One of the things that I never give up on is people. I have friends, family and others who I may not see often enough or have somehow have let drop from my life, but I never give up hope that we will get together again, somehow, someday. I have often said that I never give up on a relationship with a family member or friend because of omission. Something that one or both of us should have done to stay in touch. And I have yet to come upon something that somebody has done to me that would be so bad that it would ban them from my life forever. Maybe I'm a sucker but I hate to give up on people. There is always hope. I think I'll get some leftovers put on an old tee shirt and water my tomatoes. It is suppose to be warm tomorrow and they may just grow a bit more.  

Go Sox!!!.....blog day can wait...you can read it tomorrow ...

A New Path

We get older and things change. Jobs,friends,the creaking in your knees, nothing stays the same like it did when you were young and everyday seemed to last forever. I remember wishing I was older so that I could either drive,stay up and watch Johnny Carson or least stay out past the time when the street light came on. Now some of us wish that the days would just slow down and last a bit longer.
We do things everyday that become routine. We do them without thinking. When something disrupts the routine in a bad way like a sickness or injury to ourselves or somebody we know or love we examine the routine. Usually using the perspective of this negative interruption we describe ourselves as being in a "rut". That is a negative description of the daily routine. A rut is comfortable and easy because we have done it many times, gone down the same path. We know what expect, what is around the next corner, we can handle it because we have done it before.  Sometimes you have to force your self to try something different. Walking the dog in the woods I would look for a new path in the woods just for a Change of scenery. The same woods but a different perspective. It's easy to do that walking your dog in the woods but not so easy in everyday life, especially if you have been doing things the same way for a long time.  Life is sometimes scary enough without going looking for new troubles. It's easier to keep the problems that we know, at least they are familiar. But being scared is sometimes what it is all about. Scared to stand up to a bully who took your moms homemade chocolate deserts at lunch in the third grade. Scared on your license road test because the only driver training that your dad gave was " don't get caught speeding " Scared when you wake up in a New Jersey hotel room and look at your sleeping wife and newly adopted daughter and realize that you know nothing about being a dad. Not all of life's changes are for the good and but sometimes being scared can lead you the best path of your life. 

Dont you hate stories about the weather???...I know I do..to bad here is another one but you have been warned

It's over. The summer. For me there are only two seasons...summer and winter...warm and cold...everything else is just a marketing ploy to sell us stuff.
I tried to keep it going as long as I could but today I gave in to the inevitable.
I put a fire in the wood stove. I wanted to test the new wood and make sure there were no problems with the stove since last year but mostly I wanted to get warm. Last night I closed the windows for sleeping for the first time since April. I won't have fresh air while I sleep. And I know when I wake up it will be, for me, the worst part of my the day. That time when I leave the embrace of a warm bed only to face the cold blast of reality and a 50 something degree bedroom. ( I refuse to heat the house at night just to keep a 17 year dog warm)
I've been raking leaves for a week or two but that was during warm days with fluffy colorful leaves like the ones that you see on the tv commercials for insurance and reverse mortgages. Soon the leaves will be wet from a cold rain and the snow that fell over night...I know its coming...sigh!!
They are playing baseball tonight in Fenway and I know the fans will be dressed more for a Patriot playoff game than for night watching the boys of summer. (that is another story for another day...a summer sport playing its most important games during hockey season...argghhh!!)
It's over. The sunny warm days at the beach. The long days of eating clam cakes and wearing shorts. (heh...wait I wear shorts in the winter and ride my bike all winter...I can still by chowda somewhere...I love hiking in snow with the dog...I like Christmas, my birthday and football season....all of which come when the weather is cold...so I guess the best is yet to come...except for those dammm cold mornings.)   

Take me out to the ball game.

I had never seen grass so green. A sky so blue. The white uniforms with the red numbers looked almost magical against the back drop of the blue sky and the big green wall at the other end of the field. The sun was so bright reflecting off the white of the home uniforms, it was blinding. We sat in seats the behind the home dugout. I could see the players faces as they came off the field between innings. I heard words from the dugout that my father would use when the quarterback at Notre Dame had just thrown an interception. These guys were playing a different game than the one that I played with my friends. For one thing right field was open because they had the right number of players. They didn't have two brothers fighting on pitchers mound about which one would pitch and which one would play third base. I would go to a couple of games each summer. I went with my dad and they are probably some of the best memories that I have of him and I together. We never did a lot together especially as I got older but the days at Fenway were the best in my mind. We would get there early only because my dad wanted a parking spot that was free, even if it was miles from the stadium. I didn't mind walking because we always got their early enough to see batting practice. The players would warm up before the game some even having conversations with the fans in the front rows. I remember this tall skinny player who seemed to attract a lot of attention but ignored most everyone from the press to the autograph seekers focusing instead on his all important batting practice. He wore number 9 and played left field and he was my favorite player. And if he hit a home run it was because I willed it to happen ,that and maybe the fact that he had a near perfect swing. I remember the peanuts came in a small brown bag and there were never enough and a hot dog came out of this massive container the men with huge arms would carry up and down the rows yelling some unintelligible language as the steam from the container enveloped there sunburned faces.

It was a glorious time to be a kid. I never knew if my dad enjoyed it as much as I did. I would usually fall asleep on the way home in back seat of the seatbeltless Chevy and listen to my dad curse the Boston drivers for the next 60 miles.
Well I'm cleaning out what is left of his stuff in the our basement apartment, a place that he lived in for a few years before he died. I found a box with some personal stuff in it. I hesitated as I opened and not knowing what I would find. It was filled with some memorabilia from his time in the military and the fire department as well as a few pictures but it was something in an envelope at the bottom that brought back all of these memories. Inside the envelope where a couple of ticket stubs. Two ticket stubs for box seats to a baseball game from a long time ago. Maybe , just maybe, he did enjoy it as much as I did after all.    

I don't care

I don't care. I use to worry...a lot. About everything...money, jobs, haircuts,....not any more. I spend my days in peaceful bliss. Well I'm not a Tibetan monk contemplating my belly button 12 hours a day...( I only do that for 8 hours...I do need another 4 hours for chanting and yoga). I mean that I don't care what people think. Think about what I'm wearing when I go to the market and have on a smelly tee shirt that I have worn for two days in a row because I have been raking leaves moving firewood and it has my favorite team on it and they are playing tonight so I don't want to change it for luck even though they haven't won a game yet....but I think that people are looking at me because the shirt has the wrong logo on it...its not the local team that I'm supposed to be rooting for....ohhhhh ......nooo.....its because I look and smell like a homeless guy....who cares!!!   (I don't care that I use these run on sentences even though I think of my self as a writer)
I use to care a lot...about work, mortgages, college tuition, getting old ,dying, my teams winning, my house needing a new roof, politics, cutting the grass, Obamacare....now I take care of what I can control and leave the rest to the smarter, younger and stronger among us.
Now I care that my wife finally got a good night sleep, that my daughter is happy, that I get to watch my nephews playing JV football, that one of the guys that I drive for at work loved that we took a detour to go by the house that he grew up in while out on a recent shopping excursion, that I can walk my 17 year old dog a couple of days a week thru the town I have been living in for almost 30 years but never got to really see until now.....I care .....I guess ....but I just changed what I care about.   

Shopping??

I hate shopping. Most of the people who know me know that already. I'll buy things online but going thru rows and rows of things that I don't need is not my idea of fun. Make a list, find it on sale, get it and get out....that is shopping. I especially hate shopping for clothes. As you know I have all of the t- shirt that I will ever need. I have a winter coat that is over 15 years old and I think has another winter left in it. Unfortunately shoes and pants wear out. That is where the family comes in. The best pair of shoes that I ever bought and the ones I wear to work were picked by my daughter. She has unusual patience with me when shopping for some things like shoes and I would never have comfortable feet if it weren't for her. Then there are pants. I don't even have to go to the store. Jo Ann buys them for me. She knows my size and the only that I have to do is try them on... at home.
Wait why do I even need to try them on ??? I know my size... ok I'll try on one pair ...they are all the same size right??? Oh but some are different brands...Whattt???  Am I buying expensive woman's dress where the more you pay the smaller the size gets making you feel like you lost weight or something???  I don't understand woman and their clothing sizes. Men use inches 32 is 32 in every style and brand right???  Not anymore. I put on one pair of 32 waist pants then another. The first fit like it should and second was a tighter. They were different brands!!ARGGGGHHHHH!!!!!! Why bother putting a size on them at all? Mens pants in womans sizes....ITS THE END OF THE WORLD... (why am I yelling?)....nahhh... its only shopping.

Steveisover60: A Hobby

Steveisover60: A Hobby: I don't have any hobbies. No stamp collecting,woodworking or butterfly collections. I have enough to keep me busy. When I worked at the...

A Hobby

I don't have any hobbies. No stamp collecting,woodworking or butterfly collections. I have enough to keep me busy. When I worked at the State House I would buy doughnuts once a week. One day I was standing in line and the woman next to me was fumbling thru her purse for the money for her coffee  while trying to hold on to a fidgety child. I asked if I could help and pay for her coffee, she said no thanks but thanked me for the the offer. We'll the next day I was in the drive thru and I thought I would give the person in the car behind me no choice. I told the person at the window that i would pay for the car behind me. Well I found my new hobby...random coffee buying. It is like buying a round at the bar, accept they don't know who i am....the Lone Coffee Ranger. The quizzical looks and random smiles are worth the occasional few bucks it costs. I'm not saving the world...just having fun.
Today I met a member of the military having lunch. We were talking as he waited for his order. Just a couple of guys shooting the breeze. When i left I thanked him for his service and I told the person at the counter that I would pay for the gentleman's order as well as mine. Some times it the little things that make your day. I enjoy my hobby and it's easier than building model boats.

The Team

I miss the team. I have been a part of a few in my life, and I'm not talking about just sports. When I was a kid I was a part of a few. We had a CYO basketball team that had all of my friends on it. Friends that I still see occasionally to this day...that's another story for another day. I don't remember us being that good, I mean we didn't win a lot but I do remember the fun that we had even during practice. We all had our strengths and weaknesses...some could shoot, some could pass some did a little to much of one and not enough of the other. Me I did neither very well. I just ran up and down the court a lot. But it was fun.
I have been a part of other teams that include those at various jobs. I have had various businesses over the years and one of them include video taping weddings. (Some great stories there too.) I remember what I missed was the camaraderie that comes from going thru something together. I remember one of the first weddings that I did and during a break when everyone was having there meal I was wandering around the room and one of the waitresses asked if I wanted something to eat. Well I ended up alone at the end bar with the band and the photographer at the other end all of eating some cold leftovers before heading back to our different places on the  We even acknowledged each other...I felt alone. Of course I was the outsider and doing video taping was new thing way back then but I didn't even have an assistant or a drummer that I could swap stories with about a crying bride who just had a fight with her husband on the deck of this fancy restaurant because he spilled his beer on her mom.
I worked for almost 30 years at the State House and we worked some long hours in cold windowless room. Some days were better than others but some of the best were when we would laugh, cry or argue together. we were all different with jobs to do but when the cold pizza came at 3 am during a 16 hour day we went thru it together, a team, at least for a hours.
Now I work alone. I enjoy working with people but they are different people every day. I miss the team.     

Men,Men,Men...

I worked today on job site with Men. Real Men. Swearing, spitting ,farting, ......Men. Men who don't like Democrats, men who eat warm bologna sandwiches for lunch. Men who are sweating all over each other but don't say anything until some twit unplugs the power....oooppss!! Men who love God, country, family and football in that order.

Naahhh. I'm wrong these where ordinary guys not the neanderthals that I grew up with and I don't know any of them or what they believe. No stereotypes...they were respectful to each other...professional...just doing there job... Don't believe me???

I saw a beautiful woman walk thru the site with a high heels and a short skirt...and believe me NOBODY looked up...not whistles or catcalls.......

they were working

....(I wasn't so I did...sorry...look up I mean...not the other stuff )

These are people who don't sit behind a desk...they don't have the luxury of calling in sick..they are craftsman doing a job. Borrowing from each other...helping each other out ....

I only bring this up because I'm a man and I cant write from another prospective...I don't have the equipment.

Today is the anniversary of a day when all lot of people died.....  children, women and men.

I can only talk about what I know and I see. I see the same thing in these young guys on the job as I see in soldiers, husbands, fireman (that one is for you dad) and cops who sacrifice everyday...just doing their job... that is who we are.

A dad's football team

Supposedly the first words that I uttered as a baby where..."poopoo dame" ...which translated means "Notre Dame"...this is from my mother not my father who to him Notre Dame football was like air,  he needed it to live.

We were driving one Saturday afternoon in dad's prize possession, his 1949 Chevy fastback with skirts covering the rear wheels. It had its own garage when the rest of us lived in third floor apartment three blocks away. Where, as usual ,there was only one thing on the radio and from what I could understand from the back seat it wasn't good news. Suddenly the car would stop and my father would get out and begin cursing the football gods because the Notre Dame Fighting Irish didn't make a first down. They could be winning by the score of 96 to 0 but my dad would scream about some play during which he thought they should have scored their 100 point. He never as much enjoyed the games as he did endure them.

Well now it's almost fifty years later and I'm in his apartment trying to enjoy some time with my dad.

Bonding time, two guys having beer enjoying their favorite team. We they didn't make a first down or something again and off he would go..."they stink,,they are all bums..etc".... ahhh!!

Well I watch the games now by myself. I try remember the times when we came from behind and won a game and I actually saw my dad smile. It might of been because at the time I was jumping up and down more than the winning score but it was a smile. I know he enjoyed the time together it was that damm football team that would cause all the aggravation in his life...well that and Democrats and  woman's lib and anything post World War II ...and well...at least during football season I was there with him once in awhile to explain the a forty point Notre Dame win was good and that he probably would never live to see Hilary as President so he could stop worrying about it and try endure the game

Moving...again

Moving...no I'm not going anywhere but my daughter is, she heading to a new apartment and back to school. I've done this so many times in the last few years, (three apartments and three dorms), that I sometimes feel like a Sherpa guide ascending Mount Everest as I drag endless boxes of "essentials" like multiple pairs of shoes to the third floor of another elevator deprived building. My back aches just thinking about the next move to come, the day after Labor Day. I see the tired faces of other parents like me as we endlessly weave thru the streets of Boston looking for that elusive parking spot only five blocks from the apartment.
Everything that she owns or cares about this week is on the floor of our house. Piles of clothes, a new bed and that dammm "small" refrigerator, mocking me as it sits there in the middle of the room waiting to be hauled the stairs for the millionth time. We are getting organized for the trek. I found a van to rent and I mentally packed it several times. Each time that I think that I'm all set somebody says..." Oh by the way we are taking the ..(whatever)..and I have reevaluate my plan. I need a plan, somewhere to start, something that I know will change at a moments notice, but I at least need some place to start the chaos.
So let the games begin....I know that once we get moved in the next phase will begin. We will have by new stuff that replaces what either cant be found from the last move or got broke during the latest one. But that is another story for another blog. Stay tuned
  

41 and counting

It was 41 years ago today. I was working behind the counter at the family business. Everyday felt like a doing time in some sort of retail prison. But this day would be different . I would wait on the most important customer that we would ever have. It was also the day the I met the person who would save my life,  my wife
When we met I had no idea that I would be sitting here writing this many years later. It wasn't love at first sight for me and I KNOW that it wasn't for her. But I can remember when it did become love. I had never had that feeling before or after. I woke up one day and she was all that I could think about. Now I know that I can be a bit obsessive but this was ridiculous. I couldn't think of anything else and for me that was it.  I "courted" her for 10 years before we got married. Ten years to the day from when we met. I know a long time? We didn't want to rush into anything but the timing was perfect.
We have had some great times and some that weren't so great. The details don't matter here. But we kept going or should I say she let me hang around. I don't have the secret to success and I don't give advice on the subject. Sometimes I really wonder how we made it this far. But I do know one thing.
I wouldn't be who I am with out her and I will never love anybody else.

Thank You... Joann ....I love you.