More on Clock Works

So this is basically part 2 of the message I posted yesterday.

I had another hectic work week. Plus, yesterday, Mr. T and Son went on a trip to Philly with his summer program group - they are NOT a camp so I use this wordy phrasing intentionally. That left me to pick up Daughter at noon from her school because the 2nd-year preschoolers were graduating and the school was closing early that day. So I took her back to work with me. I took a picture while we were there to send my mother. See?



We stayed about 3 hours - the longest I've ever let her stay because I wanted to get some more things done before I swept her out of there. She managed to stay somewhat adorable to everyone. She hit just about every office, getting stuffed toys from the "magic drawer" of one man; drawing on paper with markers on the floor of one woman; drawing on the whiteboard of one of the other men who - intentionally - has kiddie music as part of his iTunes library - so there she was listening to something Wiggle-like, with a picture of Blue on his whiteboard and she below it adding her own version. The CEO came in after awhile and the first thing I heard was a high-pitched, "Come on!" and a deeper, "Wait up!" Still don't know what they were doing. She played hide-and-go-seek with one of the poor new guys who was trying to eat his lunch and sang one of the songs on the radio to a couple of the girls there prior to that.

"She's got lots of energy!" was the phrase most often quoted. Not sure if some of that was politeness on their part but it's best to not stay too long or else the thin "adorable" layer starts to peel away and we come to the part where people - even the ones with little ones of their own - try to put on a brave face but they just wish the kid would pipe down already. I didn't want her to wear out her welcome so we were able to leave about 3. I had to stop by a friend's job first one town away - the opposite direction of home - and she was bouncy then too. Finally we headed home and this is what I saw when I stopped at the store we had to hit before our final destination of home:



And this is where I say what I intended to say when I started this post. See her sleeping there? So fitting for this post. I watched a little personal documentary by Alan Berliner called Wide Awake this morning. It was an interesting piece because Alan is a night owl - like I no longer am (I think). But he was documenting his difficulty sleeping; looking for traces of it in his family tree; getting expert opinion on the sleepiness of America; documenting the arrival of his new son and showing how he is "the protector of his sleep". One of the things one of those experts said was the there is a syndrome called Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, a.k.a being a Night Owl. Basically this is a sleep disorder and they say it's starts in adolescence, sometimes infancy (like me). Night Owls work best at night buten when they go to bed at their own time, they have a hard time falling asleep.

Alan was a little concerned about it (after all, he made this film) and yet he knew what all night owls know - there is a peace, a quiet, a timelessness in the middle of the night. That clock may be loudly ticking during the day but after everyone falls asleep, so does the clock and you are off, floating in this space of your very own and it was wonderful. Creativity, for night owls, awakens then. I've written A papers in the middle of the night. I've re-organized in the middle of the night. I've been awakened by business-changing ideas and who can sleep when a new thought is trying to be born? Alan is 40-something and pretty much accepts himself for who he is but he admits - like most of us - that somehow he has to function with the daytimers too - like his newborn son - and there is the unfairness of it all.

The American world doesn't operate on this schedule and so anyone who does is suffering from a "disorder"? Because it's not THE order, it's a diss-order? A disrespected way of being? I say American world because Alan pointed out how there is such a thing as a siesta in some countries, high tea (a.k.a the ingestion of caffeine) in others, so the middle-of-the-day tiredness is not just an American phenomena but we ignore it, push on, wear ourslevs out; they don't.

And me? I'm left trying to find my place again since the kids knocked my clock out of whack. I WANT to stay up later because ideally I will work during the day, be with the family during the day and then have MY time when they fall asleep and I can then get things done. Except something else one of those experts said is that this thing is genetic. And Daughter is clearly a night owl too so waiting for her to go to sleep forces me to go to bed so she'll get bored and go to sleep and then I'm too tired to get back up again!

But I was born with a need for way more sleep than I get anyway so I am battling my clock every day, trying to give time to everyone, including myself. I lose. So then I try to do some of my things during the time I am awake. My kids lose, so then I lose more. I hate it. But I'm stuck with it until the kids are on their own and I can reset my clock.

Everyone was bushed last night after all our little adventures so I got about 9 1/2 to 10 hours of sleep! That is a new record for me. It was like when I was childless and could sleep for 12 hours uninterrupted. I don't know the last time I got that much sleep but I was so excited to get up and not feel sleep deprived. I actually had energy to eat and take a shower and wash some clothes and put towels aways and jump online because my mother is wrapping up our latest project so we can go to print. I even felt like blogging! And right now, I feel like organizing. You should have SEEN Alan's space! Super organized. Hundreds of film sized boxes in rainbow colors; labled drawers. He has to have a touch of OCD. He just has to because he is clearly obsessed with the ordering of things yet I was very impressed and I feel a kinship with him as a result.

In the end, I don't think there was a solution for him any more than there is for me. But I got my 10 hours and right now I feel like I could conquer the world! For now, I think I'll just conquer my house.

Give Me Back My Freakin' Clock!

Kids changed me. I knew that. But I get reminders of how little sleep I get all the time and the reason for that? Those darn kids obviously reset my internal clock while they were floating around inside my body! I used to be able to stay up all night. The break of dawn was my signal to get thee to bed before daylight streams in and turns thee to dust!

If I went to bed at midnight, I could sleep until noon easy. My mother never got it. I doubt she gets it now. She told me of the time when I was a baby and how I sat up waiting for my night-working father to come home. "See? I was born this way? Why do you continue to torture me about sleeping late?"

My first full-time job was a wonderful 5 to 1 a.m. schedule at a newspaper. "Newspapers are open at night?" people would ask. "How else do you think you get fresh, morning news," I'd respond as the light went on in their head and they realized it had to come from somewhere. I worked Sunday through Thursday and I LOVED it. I admit, I hated to go in on Sunday afternoon while everyone else was lazing about, but generally I loved the freedom to go to the mall and park next the handicap spots. And doctor's appointments could be made at any time I chose.

Those were the days. Now?

Now I can barely make it past 10 and when I do, I am forcing myself simply so I can enjoy the precious quiet time that comes when Daughter finally gives up the fight and succumbs to sleep.

Now I am yawning all the time, and I know it's out of fatigue, not boredom. Now I am hating the clock because all it does is taunt me as it ticks relentlessly down to that hour when I must reluctantly go to bed in hopes of getting some rest for the next day, and if, per chance, I can't sleep, then it teases me about how quickly it can run and just how little time I have to really sleep before the sun wakes me from my inadequate slumber.

Those tykes that are currenly stomping over my head are the reason I can no longer hang. They are making me old! They are draining my energy! They are diminutive chronological vampires, forcing me to watch as they get bigger but I just get more tired!

I've got to stop. I'm sleepy now.

Happy Anniversary/Birthdays and Not So Happy Stuff

It's quite a 24 hours thus far. So much milling about in my mind.

My girlfriend of 30 plus years just emailed me to tell me she had her first baby - about a month early - on the 9th.

Today marks the 2nd year of my being on my fabulous job.

Today also marks my mother's 57th birthday and my parents' 37th wedding anniversary.

All wonderful milestones.

But last night I found out that someone I know and her husband are separating. I suppose this one hits me hard because she's only a year older than I am. (I think. Could be wrong. It may only be a few months difference.) Maybe because she has 2 kids not too far away in age from my own. Maybe because she and her husband do the schedule shuffle as well or even better than Mr. T and I do. I've always been in awe of how she juggled it all - MAJOR position in the company, family, author, horrible commute - but she does, every single day. And now I wonder if any of that took a toll on this woman's familial harmony. I am sad for her but I don't know if that's appropriate since no one really knows what someone else is living with in a marriage and for all I know she may be about to come up for the very breath of life she needed to keep from drowning. You just never know.

I told Mr. T. "All you can do is pray for her," he said. Very true. Glad he reminded me. Sometimes I forget the power we have in that. I know very well how prayer moves mountains. I would love to hear that the pieces fell back in place for her but what that final puzzle looks like may still not be what I'd think it should be. So I simply pray for God to grant her peace and light the way for her; to give her children the comfort to know that none of this is their fault; to simply make it clear that He is there. Because only He and she know what's truly the best move for her.

I had a friend come over last night to pick something up and she and I got on the topic of marriage as well because hers is a challenge. Huge challenge. Hers is a matter of communication but mine could use some improvement there too. (One of these days, I'm gonna publish the post I wrote from a few weeks ago when I was about ready to hang Mr. T. with his own shoelaces.) The difference is if she had it to do all over again, she wouldn't. Not to him. Mr. T and I, on the other hand, got mentally and spiritually married so long ago that I do feel like he's just part of me and no matter how annoying he can be, cutting him off would be like cutting of my own leg. It wasn't an intentional marrying of the minds, mind you. Just one of those things where no matter how many times we separated, no matter who else we went out with - and I did - it always came back to us so give it up and get married already and just deal with it. So we did. My friend? Well, I just keep talking positive to her though I understand her points and concur from time to time. But I won't say anything disparaging to anyone about their marriage because who am I to do that? Certainly not the epitome of perfect relationships. And I wouldn't be a friend if I did. She hasn't been married as long as I have either so I try to encourage her in that way. You learn, you grow, no one really changes, everyone just comes to varying states of acceptance. I've had to say that to my girlfriend who just had the baby too. She got married a little over a year after I did after catching the bouquet at my wedding. (I was a pregnant piece of pink bubble gum in her wedding.I won't show you pictures.) She and her husband had a VERY rough start. We haven't talked in awhile. I hope things are calm now.

But all this marriage talk continues to prove one thing to me and I tell it to every bride-to-be I know. (Grooms-to-be too.) I don't care how perfect things are. I don't care if you live together (and I've got 2 examples of how it doesn't matter). I don't care if you agree on every single thing. Marriage is simply a different state of mind and after you get married, sooner or later you will see that. People DO NOT change. They simply become more relaxed, sometimes a little lazy, until eventually it boils down to everyone's true essence being revealed and then you come face to face with "can I continue to live with this?" No one shows all their colors upfront and years of dating won't convince me that they do. Even marriage counseling - as vital as it is and I beg everyone to do it if only to give yourselves a fighting chance - can't prepare you for everything. You have to live it. The sooner you accept this, the better off you will be.

Mr. T. agreed with me, shrugging in his usual laid back manner as he made the kids' lunches for today. "Oh yeah. Marriage is work for everyone." I give him the eye.

"It's a huge, huge commitment," I tell him.

"Absolutely."

I just look at him.

"What? I'm still here, aren't I?" he said. Exactly.

"So am I."

This Morning...

...my daughter was explaining to me how I have to "be adult about things." I don't know what prompted this reprimand. We were walking to school and talking about her father and her brother yet somehow we got to how I need to be adult and she doesn't because "I'm the little one." Thank you for the reminder, Daughter. Darn if she's not right, though.

(Sorry. Let me remind you that Daughter is 3.)

...I was thinking about the fact that this June 27th marks my 2nd year at my wonderful job that I love completely. It also marks my mother's 57th birthday and her 36th wedding anniversary. Or is it 37th? Darn it. I always have to do the math. Thank God it's even numbers. She's 20 years older than I am. So if she's turning 57 that means my father is turning 59 in August. I was driving at the time I was thinking of this and had to hold the wheel tightly as I yelled out, "woah!" as I realized they would talking 60s soon enough. When did I get old enough to have parents in their 60s? Yes, I know it's not that old. Yes, I know the older I get, the younger everyone older than I am gets. I am well aware that it means nothing really and yet, their being 60 means I AM GETTING OLDER! And I like being adult, despite what Daughter said above, but dang! I think I don't want to think about it. I'll let them stay 50something for as long as possible, if only to keep that ribbon of time flowing as long as possible.

(Confirmed it today. My father does turn 60 this year. What does one do to mark that milestone, I wonder.)

...speaking of being an adult, my girlfriend - the one whose personality is 97% like my own, by her admission and my agreement - was explaining to me how she dealt with something at work recently and she knew she'd have to talk to me about it because though we think alike, that 3% difference is just enough so that we aren't just talking to ourselves. She's a straight shooter with everyone, including family. I tend to give family a little more room to be flawed but everyone else hears what I really think - eventually. So her story just reminded me of how much I need to work on my own patience and she too has things she wants to improve on and yet - being 3 years old than I am - she knows she is set in her ways and so am I. Plus, we rarely apologize for it.

It's that age thing, yet again. Three reminders in one hour. Yep, one hour. God, are you trying to tell me something? I don't think I want to hear it right now. Nope! I don't. I won't. And you can't make me! (OK, ok. I hear you. Just later, ok?)

And The Verdict Is..

Yes. Son and I have found out the Family Project for his summer camp program this summer. And yes, we DO have to write a book. I ought to get paid for my clairvoyance.

But I've got an idea and that is lightyears ahead of where I was at this time last summer when told of his project.

One of the things that was suggested by the IT Guru there was that we purchase this little baby called a Wacom tablet. Now, I've got taxes to pay, a vacation coming, stuff I want to do for the house, treats to buy for the kids' rooms when they leave to go to the grandparents and the last thing I want to do is spend more money. But I admit, this baby is cool. Son loves to write as much as I do and he loves to draw too, so it's not like this would be a waste of money for either of us. I'll think about it. But if you want to write your own book, this is a great way to illustrate it and write it electronically in your own handwriting. Very cool, even for non-techy me. And it's not that expensive. Very tempting. Now, I can imagine a lot of the kids will do the same things, especially if they end up getting and/or using this Wacom. So I doubt I'll buy it for THIS purpose. Hopefully my idea is just seemingly complicated enough that no one else will do it. I do like to be different if I can. Oh, wait. This is HIS project. Yes, yes. I misstated that. He likes to be different. There we go. That's what I meant. Yes I did and you can't prove otherwise.

Son and I have much reading to do. And planning to do for this book. Get me to the library!

Saturday, Father's Day, Last Day

It was a good weekend for pictures. So why didn't I take any? Or many? Well, Saturday I was too busy chasing my kids around the beach making sure no one got hurt or fell in the water while Mr. T. hung out with his family members during one of their many family get-togethers. He comes from a huge clan, many of whom live right here in this state with us, so they see each other as much as they can.

I had just had a discussion the day before with a friend of mine about my independence and how much I protect it. She's like me so she's see no problem with it. I told her sometimes I listen to other people in relationships and I feel like I should want to spend all my time with dear hubby, but guess what? I don't. I told her it seemed like we should be talking about everything under the sun but we don't because we don't choose to. (Mind you, there ARE a few things we DO need to work on discussing but that fierce independence in both us gets in the way.) Mr. T., like many men, goes off into his cave sometimes and acts like no one else is there. Sometimes it bugs me when I want to say something to him right then but mostly, I really don't care. I have no need to be under him all the time. I have no need to tell him every little thing. I have no desire to share every thought in my head. But it's not because of him. He'll listen to anything I say and pops up with presents and trips to places every now and again that proves it. But me? I've ALWAYS been this way and I'm glad to have found someone who accepts that and doesn't ask me a zillion questions. I've never liked to be asked a lot of questions, for reasons I don't even fully understand myself. Some days I can take it. Other days, it just feels nosey. But it's how I am. Moody. So, we come and go as we please, making sure each other knows when we're doing something not routine, but we like to do the same things for fun when it's time to not be so busy so it just works for us. It's nice to have someone there when I want it but who also knows how to leave me to myself and not take it personally.

So spending Saturday with his close family was a little hard because I was feeling especially anti-social that day and they - the ones who don't know me - probably found me stand-offish but I was really just wanting to read the book my critique group and I are reading, and keep my kids from burying each other in that icky old sand. I don't like beaches. Sand is dirt to me. My daughter wanting to walk on it with her bare feet gave me shivers but in that case it was because of the unknown. You never knows what's buried in that shifty, seeping sand.

Most of the time, I like it to just be the four of us. And that's what we did on Father's Day. A trip to see Fantastic 4 - for Son's sake - dinner at Outback and then a Sunday drive to no where in particular. Daughter informed us along the way that she needed new clothes, and could we please go somewhere because dinner, a movie, and a stop at the store to get her Pull-ups was not enough of an outing for her. So we drove along the water in one town and then we drove through the park in another town. That's where we stopped to watch a family feeding ducks and geese.



As you can see, Daughter is practically fearless, but somehow still can't take off her own shirt unless she's having a sudden bout of independence. (Fiercely independent mommies try to make fiercely independent children and when one even utters, "I can't!" when really that child means, "I won't!" regarding the simplest of tasks, FIM simply goes nuts.)

So now we are going to have to make another trip with a loaf of bread one day because I promise you, Daughter will not forget that we said we would - one day.

In the end, we all came home somewhat tired, though we did nothing particularly physical. And we got ready for this special week. Because today is...


SON'S LAST DAY AS A FIRST-GRADER!

I didn't get a chance to take a picture of him waiting for the bus but I'll do like I did last year and have Mr. T. take a picture of him coming home.

Where did the time go? The start of school does feel a million years ago but 2nd grade is looming and I'm not sure yet if I feel anything about that. I'm too busy thinking about the busy summer ahead. (We slow down for nothing in my house.) He's got a math packet to complete for 2nd grade, and the reading one too. We got 5 books from the library last night to tide him over between the end of school and the start of his summer literacy program but he's already read 3 of them. Guess we'll have to go back Wednesday. The literacy camp WILL be work - remember the scrapbook? - so he'll be occupied. Then it's August. Sweet August. My month of childlessness. It's gonna be a tight one, taking them down one day and coming back home the next, but it'll be worth it.

I do love this time of the year when everyone has done the hard work of completing another school year and routines can relax a bit. And this summer, I am in my own home to boot. It's gonna be simply marvelous.

Taking a Moment

I'm swamped. Really. At home and at work, I can barely get a moment to think, let alone blog or even blog hop. So my newly acquired friends are going to think I don't care but it's not true. Oh so not true! How's the new home, Theresa? How's your back, Liz? Amazing color on your blog, by the way. As usual. Summer, you are one of the ones I like to follow and you continue to be in my thoughts and prayers. Lynn, when are you going to post again, woman?!

I was talking to a friend today about my really being able to veg out when given the opportunity. My need for speed is a well-known fact among the people I am around regularly. I admitted that I couldn't sit still TOO long or else I'd feel I was wasting my time, but lately, there is not a moment to spare and I am oh so in need of it.

All day at work, the projects keep coming. If I hated my job, this would truly be a struggle but because I love it, I thrive despite my longing for a break. At home, it's the end of another school year. I have attended more events at my Son's school these past 2 months than I can care to think about right now. And tonight? I have to go to yet another concert at a different school. Actually, it's a concert that was already held at his school - the 1st-graders (him), had a part in one song in a 5th-grade concert - and now they will join 6th-graders at another school to rehash it, um, enthrall us, once again. So I get to sit through twice the singing just so I can see my one little 1st-grader sing along in one song. And he's barely a 1st grader now! He's moving on to 2nd and it just seems weird. When he hits 3rd, Daughter will join him at his school for kindergarten and the fun will REALLY begin. I can't get that far ahead of myself.

We are also gearing up for Son's summer program, which is every bit as intense as regular school so this is not a break for me in the least. Oh no sir-ee! This is a learning opportunity for us all and a chance for him to do things and see places he wouldn't normally do or see in a normal school year. And hopefully it will prove to be one of the things that gives him a leg up as he progresses in school.

Business continues to pull me in another direction, but who is complaining? One medium-sized job is done and we are hopefully wrapping up the 1st phase of this big project so I can concentrate on the next medium-sized job and potentially 4th one before the 2nd phase of the big one commences. Keeping up? See why I need that book I mentioned last post? When that wraps, another big one will hopefully be in the wings, if the client is ready to start by then. Along the way, I have to try to get the website worked on some more, among other things.

No complaints. But I'm taking a moment to write this simply because I needed to NOT think of work for just a little while. But August is coming, the tykes will be with my parents for awhile and Mr. T and I will be cue the music - cruisin'. On a unny afternoon (or 6), yeah bay-ba! Can't wait and yet don't want to rush the summer either so I have to wait. That's OK. We're going to finally paint the foyer so I can do some things I've been wanting to do there and I'm going to knuckle down and get my bookshelf for my office so I can do what I want to there as well, so I do have some fun coming.

My LA Weight Loss Counselor is wondering where I've been. They've closed the office I've been going to over the course of the past 7 years. So hard to believe. I really don't have the money or concentration for this right now but I do want to get back on track too - eventually. I know my limits. Weight loss takes concentration and I don't have it in me right now. But we'll see. I promised him I'd call him back tomorrow. I like his attitude so I try to follow through with him. But it's going to cost something in the end and I just don't want to stretch it right now. We're still paying taxes, after all and Daughter has been asking for that Dora Kitchen longer than I can remember now. Gotta get it for her before she comes home from her August trip.

Well, this was meant to just be a somewhat rambling post and I think I accomplished that. I need to go check up on Theresa now. Oh wait! My boss just IM'd me from home. There goes my trip to the corner store for unnecessary chocolate.

Summing Up My Life in One Place

I am so annoyed. I think I may have finally found the ideal Idea Notebook - this little baby not so well described and shown here, sold by Staples and, I found out, Target - but there was only one left in the store I went to. The second store I went to, hoping to find a color other than brown, had nothing at all.

You see I am a writer and a business owner and an employee and a wife and a mother (that last one still makes me look around thinking someone else is being referred to). I make to-do lists that can rival anything Oprah can cook up. I love things to be organized, but for some reason I do not do journals and idea notebooks very well. In order for those to be effective, you have to carry them.

Every. Where. You. Go.

It must become an extension of your arm. But see I already have 2 little extensions - by the names of Son and Daughter - and those extensions come with accessories most times. Plus my business is such that the samples I should keep on me - but don't always have - are not exactly easy to carry either unless I have a separate bag, i.e. another extension. (Any more extensions and I will blow the nearest electrical tower. But I digress.)

So you see, on a perfect day, I have my bag of business stuff - ready to deal with anyone who might inquire about what I do and how to work with me once they fall in love with the idea - and I have my purse (I have a love-hate relationship with those too) and in there is not only the ever-bulging wallet (not with money, but the receipts I reconcile, coupons, credit cards I owe, pen, various medical cards, 2 sets of frequent flyer cards for 3, etc.) but also my calendar and, supposedly, my Idea Notebook. Well, actually, the idea book doesn't exist yet. Three old versions are at home waiting for me to meld the still undone projects into one new, fun to use book.

So I went looking for the ideal book - again. The one that would let me track every aspect of the business stuff I have to do as well as jot the occasional note about a story idea for transfer later to yet another stupid idea book I have to keep for the writing side of my life. Can you sense the disdain? I told you I was annoyed.

I don't know what it is. It's like some unspoken requirement that in order to call yourself a writer or business owner, you MUST carry a book of thoughts. And since I never know which aspect of my personality will take over from day to day, I kind of need all this stuff all the time. That would require me to get a bag the size of a mini Cooper to keep things at the ready. And I do that - for a while. Then I resent it. And I rebel. I leave EVERYTHING home and carry the smallest bag I have, forcing me to only take my wallet, chapstick and a pen - so I can write my thoughts on the nearest wall if necessary. I carry the calendar because I am not organized if I don't have one, according to a time management expert I listened to months and months ago. My cell phone didn't seem to enough to please him. Although, in his defense, he didn't know he was having this argument in my head - and he still won.

Sigh. I hate the thought but I may have to be a techie just so I won't have to carry all this crap with me. The iPhone I've been seeing on TV does look really cool and I am already thinking about what my next
cell phone will be - something with staying power because phone hopping is not my speed. Yet, I am already rebelling against it and it doesn't even come out until June 29th. I can't stand being so accessible to people. Yes, my IMs are forwarded to my cell phone, but that's not the point! Maybe I'll just look at the thing and see what all it can do. Maybe I'll consider something like it next year when I'm ready to get a new cell phone. Maybe.

In the meanwhile, I can't even buy that book I saw at Staples with the sweet plastic tabs you can add in to section things off and the little business card holders you can put in it and the paper you can take out and refill and the leather cover and size no bigger than the calendar I am already burdened down with. After walking around, imagining I'd have to create the ideal Idea Book, I landed on that one and was told the book was recalled because of faulting binding and they won't be back until "sometime" this summer. My ideas, in the meanwhile, are floundering. They continue to be strewn about among my computer at work and the one at home and the notes in my calendar and the notes by my bed (which are always in danger of being confiscated by little people seeking their own paper to scribble on) and the unfiled notes on my desk. Darn it. Was that a note in my pocket that just got decimated in the wash?

I hate feeling scattered and I hate carrying things and I hate all the complicated technology. I'm a mess. But my self-proclaimed OCD demands attention. It's out of control.

So what works for you?

Site Now Seen!

It has taken too long. There has been too much angst. We have learned MUCH about who we want to work with in our business. More money has been - or will be spent - but it was worth it and it is done. Village Works Enterprises LLC is now back online where it belongs. We were down for about a month. Way too long but then again, we expected it to be done before last Christmas. Don't ask. I don't want to bad-mouth the former new developer but I won't be passing his name along either. We still have a good letter to write to him about why he lost us. Now our new people? You CAN ask about them if you're looking.

www.vwepuzzles.com

Feel free to make all the comments and suggestions you want. Good ones will be add to an ongoing list because it's not free to keep popping in there changing things around, you know? But it is evolving, a MAJOR work in progress. Lots of little things I still want to do and big things too, some obvious, some not so.

But we're back. That's what counts. Enjoy!