Wishing you a Hydrated Holiday!

Happy Yule, everyone... and a belated Happy Hanukkah and an early Merry Christmas (I love that we are all such a beautiful collage of dynamic souls).

So - its officially, officially winter here in Utah and I learn something new every single day.

Hunter says that one of the side effects of this little adventure we've embarked upon is my tendency to fixate... I was prone to fixating before, but I'm pretty sure we're at a new level. To be honest, I don't think that its so much a side effect of being pregnant as it is the hormones have aligned and brought out what is a dormant and inevitable Glasgow trait. My fixations range from the weather, to food network (my DVR is 98% full because 'OH MY GOD PAULA DEAN IS COOKING MACARONI AND CHEESE IN A CROCK POT, I SHOULD DO THAT ONE DAY!'), to that rather bizarre waitresses we had last night.

I will admit (getting back to the winter in Utah thing) I have been checking and announcing the temperature, wind chill, and how it compares to the temperature in the North Pole every 15 minutes like clockwork for about 3 weeks now (I mean, there's a link on the blackberry weather channel application to see the weather at the North Pole every time you check the temperature.... how can you pass that up??). But seriously - there was an entire week there where it practically didn't make it to 20 degrees. If you're factoring in the wind chill, which I mean, who doesn't - we're talking consistently -12, night after night. All I can say about -12 degrees is, man... that's cold.... who wouldn't fixate???

One such evening, Hunter and I decided we'd head out for a little Salt Lake City winter adventure. I grew up listening to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Christmas tapes incessantly. My mother was just in love with the Mo-Tab Christmas music (I can say Mo-Tab now because I'm a local, and yes, it makes me feel super cool). We have met some dear and wonderful friends here, who offered to try and help us get in to see the choir's Christmas concert. The concert was sold out, but our friend knew of a possibility to get will-call tickets and offered to meet us out there and give it a shot. The same wonderful city who beautifully coordinated and executed a tremendously successful winter Olympics thought it would be a great idea to schedule the Mo-Tab Christmas Concert and a Utah Jazz (professional basketball) game across the street from each other at the same time on the same night. We live exactly 4 miles/8 straight blocks from Temple Square, where the concert was being held. It took us over an hour to drive those 4 miles.... the concert was starting. As for our friends, she was standing outside waiting for us with two cups hot apple cider and he was looking for a parking space. About 45 minutes later we found a parking garage about 2 miles from the temple and started walking. I checked the temperature... -9. At the North Pole it was only -5. Eat your heart out Santa. About a mile and half into our trek to the concert our friend called. The tickets were sold out. He was still looking for a parking space. My cider was cold. We turned around and went to Wendy's instead. I guess I'll have to ask mom if I can borrow her tape... but next year - we have a game plan.... oh yes... there is a game plan.

The other fun fact that I am quickly learning about Salt Lake City - is that it is next to impossible to keep any sort of vegetation alive unless you are 110% committed. This means, ladies and gentlemen, that our Christmas tree is seriously dead. I mean dead. You see (and its taken me 6 months to resign myself to this fact) if you are trying to keep any sort of plant (or animal for that matter) alive you must water it every single blessed day out here. None of this 'every other week, okay fine - twice a week, omg, really... every other day???' business. No. Every. Day. Well, guess which delightfully round, disjointed pelvis, pregnant southern transplant did not get down on the floor and crawl around under the tree to water it every day. The good news is, at night, when its lit up, you can't even tell its dead... unless of course, it goes up in flames... then I suppose it will be rather obvious. So far, I've killed everything in our yard, a beautiful orchid and an unkillable house plant. I know its unkillable, because I had one in NC that I left in my car in July in 120 degreess and when I pulled it out it was a shriveled black skeleton... three separate times.... and it still lived. Same plant, here in Utah... Dead. (yes, I am having a child... what?) So I am ready to resign myself to this arid climate and my new year's resolution will be to keep my plants, my pets and my family hydrated every day, for better or worse, cross my heart....

I hope you're all warm and relaxed and looking forward to a long weekend filled with love and laughter. Know that we are missing you and thinking of you every single day and that you are in our hearts and thoughts throughout the holidays and beyond.

So very much love,

JEGB

Just a quick little catch up/re-start

I know, I know, it’s been a little while. I’m not sure when things got so crazy because there have been so many entertaining feats that we have endured since the last time I checked in. For example, I had a whole blog written in my head about my quest for a swine flu vaccine. It was my first experience with Utah snow as a southern transplant, it was a week and a half before Halloween (really – I mean, who would have thought). Just imagine; hundreds of people, huddled in the decaffeinated darkness of pre-dawn, behind a convention center in some town about 45 minutes north of Salt Lake City. It was like some clandestine pregnancy expo – in a snow globe…. very bizarre. I learned several things on what I am considering my first true winter adventure:

1. Purchase gloves at the dollar store in bulk and put them in every pocket and everything that resembles a pocket that you own. Do this both for yourself and so you can pass on a bit of warmth and kindness should you see some poor southerner trying to find ways to warm her hands in ways that are so creative and desperate that they’re beginning to flirt with obscene. (yep – that’s me, accidentally obscene, gloveless, southern pregnant lady in northern Utah – just appreciate that visual for a minute)

2. There is truly no value that can be placed on good socks. Good socks are just beyond critical. Do not under, under any circumstances, if there is even the potential of cold rain, leave the house in the same socks that you wear jogging in July. The word is ‘WOOL’. In fact, I even recommend putting back up socks in the pocket that doesn’t have the gloves in it.

3. You really will do any self-sacrificing thing for the safety of your child. It is incomprehensible

4. Just because you lost feeling in your toes several hours ago, doesn’t necessarily mean that they are going to fall off (you just cannot even imagine my relief).

5. Stumbling upon a Krispy Kreme after any trying experience makes absolutely everything okay. (I wonder if I can arrange for krispy kreme immediately following labor… hmm….)

Let’s see… what else has been going on….

We accepted and embraced the realization at 10 weeks that our child was going to be a bit of a handful. The way it was straight up slam dancing on that first ultrasound had us buckling our seatbelts. At 18 weeks we awoke to snow in Sundance and one heck of a kick in the abdomen. I had heard that your first baby kicks feel like these wonderful little flutters. My first baby kick made me wish these things came with safety pads. All of these little indicators pointed towards a full steam ahead, into everything, hit the ground running, little boy (kind of like how my mother-in-law has wearily described life with little DHB). I should have known better. She is, without a doubt, a she. A daughter, who is already a little bit stubborn, is basking upside down in decades of residual caffeine and is seemingly having an absolute blast.

I know that’s not much of an update, but I’ll be honest, I’m writing this, un-medicated, with the worst cold I have had in years, and I’m more than a little foggy…. So that’s just going to have to bring us up to present day. We have our Christmas tree up (and we’re still happily married, I should add, even though DHB briefly lost consciousness while getting it in the stand ) and its beautiful (especially if you turn your head oh so slightly to the right when admiring it). The outside of the house isn’t finished yet (or technically started for that matter), so you’re going to have to hang tight for pictures, but I will try to put some up. DHB turned 30 on Sunday and we celebrated with a damn fine chocolate cheese cake and our first significant snow. We now realize that we probably should have celebrated with the purchase of a snow shovel and maybe some salt. You live, you learn! We’re staying here for Christmas this year, our first Christmas ever without our extended families. There will be pajamas and lots of baking and eggnog with visions of bourbon rather than sugar plums… at least that’s my wild and crazy plan

Alright, this at least gets me a reacquainted with the keyboard. I promise you, I will do my best to keep these updates a little more frequent. In the meantime, feel free to reach out and say hello in between updates!

Hope you are finding little pieces of magic all over the place this holiday season; they’re there, just keep your eyes open.

Our Greatest Adventure....

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am happy to inform you that your regularly scheduled program no longer exists.

You see, Hell Week was a little more eventful than we anticipated. But then again, would one expect anything less from the Best household than me discovering that I will be going (cold turkey) caffeine, alcohol, nicotine, and ibuprofen free for the next 9 months during what is arguably the most stressful week of our lives? What's life without a little high-level drama??

I was empathetic enough to wait until DHB finished his last exam on Friday (which he survived beautifully by the way) to break the news so that we could enjoy and process without distractions. With the board exams over and life changing good news... well.. As you might imagine, there were dropped jaws, tears, laughter, and lots and lots of napping.

DHB is incredibly superstitious (a quality I find ridiculously endearing in a scientist) and I'm just paranoid (not quite as endearing under any circumstances). That said, we decided to wait until we heard a heartbeat to tell the world...

---Let me just pause for a minute and explain. I take secret keeping to an extreme. I am incapable of superficial small talk, so if I'm sitting on something that I can't share, I find the easiest way to do this is to go off the grid. That's why you haven't heard from me since the day I discovered the news. Sorry about that!----

This was the longest 11 weeks of my life but two weeks ago we heard a heartbeat that reverberated off of the walls. Two days later, we had our first ultrasound (again, more jaw dropping, tears, laughter - and there's always napping these days). This child, whom we will refer to as 'MoonPie' until it makes its debut (and possibly after), was literally bouncing off of the walls. It was like watching a game of pinball. The child was bouncing like it was on a trampoline, twisting, flipping, waving, kicking and just generally having a complete and total blast. That's my kid, always entertained and never a dull moment! My mother says the hyper activity is because he's a boy. My Kara says that its because the child has access to decades of extreme caffeine reserves that could fuel the army of a moderate sized country.

So, moon pie is scheduled to make the big debut on May 3rd, but who really knows. The biggest lesson I have learned from the first phase of this experience.... you can not predict, plan, schedule, or manage this experience. As you might imagine, this is a MASSIVE revelation for me... but amazing all the same. For the first time in my life I truly have almost no control of my body, my mind, my emotions, my reactions, or my needs and wants and I can honestly say, I have never been happier. I have never been more relaxed and I have never been so excited to be surprised each and every single day. I'd say so far, this is an amazing introduction to our grandest adventure yet.

Its good to be back! I've missed this!

Hell Week Begins: Day 1

Ok folks, back from a week of travel, well rested thanks to a day of honest-to god-thunderstorms on Saturday and ready for Hell Week. Bring on the puking, I'm ready!

Maybe I should explain.

In college, the week before exams was called "dead week". This, as we all know, was for two reasons: a) because life was cancelled except for studying (meaning, things were 'dead') and b) for those of us who were diligent; the hours we put in studying liked to kill us.... or b.2) For those of us who didn't put those hours in studying, I guess you could say we spent dead week digging our own grave. I, being the brilliant and supportive spouse that I am, bailed and went to Minnesota for dead week. You see, DHB takes his board exams this Wednesday and Friday. We call this 'hell week'.

I must admit, I was a little unimpressed with the twin cities area. However, when I spent 4 or 5 hours meandering through the back roads of southern Minnesota into Wisconsin along the Mississippi river.... gorgeous. (alas, I digress, this entry isn't about me... more on this as soon as my photos are available).

So, dead week is down and hell week begins today. Here's my three part strategy: 1) Junk food, 2) keep my head down, 3) mindless television.

1) DHB could out chocolate me on the worst hormonal day of my life. Its really like living with a bulimic only more compulsive and without the purge. In anticipation of this I have collected the following: Ghirridelli triple chocolate with extra chocolate inside brownies, one dozen chocolate iced donuts from the bakery, mini chocolate iced donettes (for easier portability and less guilt when eaten en mass) One pound of Reasen chocolate candies, Cakesters, and chocolate syrup. I still have to get the 'pot of chocolate' from the chocolate shop run by dwarfs down the street (no, I do not jest) and some filler (like potato chips and mountain dew). If I'm missing anything let me know.

2) Keep my head down: Yeah, I haven't really gotten this one as worked out yet. I'm knitting under a deadline... maybe that will help? I'm open to suggestions. Will probably need to solicit your assistance on this one.

3) Mindless television: This one is really to keep him from calling out the names and characteristics of various disorders in his sleep. Lets face it, its both disruptive and disturbing. I had a great solution to this: Dexter. (DHB is to violence as DHB is to chocolate) Problem is, I really don't think I can handle Dexter anymore (no clue when I became such a wuss, but I think it was the addition of Jimmy Schmitz). We've been through all of the original CSI's on demand (none of the NY or Miami crap) and DHB just doesn't have the same affinity for HGTV's If Walls Could Talk that I do. So... I'm thinking season three of Everest. Something mindless to suck us in and tune us out for 5 more blessed days.

So.... more than anything, I suppose this is simply a heads up, a plea for support and part one in what promises to be a very entertaining series of blogs. If you have any coping mechanisms to share, please, by all means don't hold back!!!

Wish us luck!

xxoo!

Quickening the Fibers of the Soul

A formal happy Friday to you!

Let me just say, if you survived this week, you deserve a hearty congratulations, pat on the back, stiff drink, trip to Disney, whatever. Between the full moon and the lunar eclipse, I don't know a soul who has gone unscathed. It's really just a bad combination any way you cut it. All that said, do think it marked the start of Monsoon season here in SLC.

I've been starting to mourn the absence of rain here. Seriously, I grew up in hurricane country, where we sit on our porches, under a sky that has exposes the parts of mother-nature that bring the strongest of men to their knees, taking in the storm until we feel the storm might take us. We plan supper time around the evening rain, because it washes away our day and lets us breathe easily enough to enjoy our food and our families. We believe that the purpose of the sweltering heat is so that we can run through the soaking wet grass with no shoes. We create by the splinters of light that open the sky in the dark nights of July.

So, I've literally been mourning. Don't get me wrong, the sunshine and blue skies are nice, but after every day for a month and a half you start to become hostile, drawing the shades, hiding under the covers and taking your inner Wednesday Adams to an extreme.... or maybe that's just me? This is exactly what I was doing on Wednesday afternoon around 6:30 when I heard my text message notifier ding (actually its more of a gong... a little ominous... but that's irrelevant). I was comfortable and not moving. It went off again. I burrowed deeper. The phone started ringing. I ignored it as guilt started creeping in. Finally I talked myself into getting up and seeing who was interrupting my angst-fest. Three guesses.... it was the same guy who I have a sneaking suspicion switched out my regular coffee for decaf this morning and continues to play hide the toilet paper just out of Julie's reach, putting her in a very awkward situation at least once a week. (Yes, I believe he does have a death wish - one of you might want to reach out and stage some sort of intervention).

Despite his twisted sense of humor, the darling man, who has taken notice of my sunshine induced disdain, was calling me to make sure I was watching the rain move in.

I squealed. I squealed and bounced and jumped and skipped and did a few CanCan kicks. I ran to the front room upstairs and sure enough, you could see it pouring in the mountains and raining so hard in the city that it was completely removed from view. I threw open the windows and took a deep breath. I breathed it in, held it and then bounded (yes, I bounded) down stairs as the first drops started to fall.

The 6-8 week mark is usually when my eccentricities start popping out in plain view of the neighbors. No sense in hiding it, so, true to form, pajamas and all, I grabbed a bag of peanuts and my dog Bodhi and headed for the middle of the front yard. I plopped my giddy ass down in the grass cross-legged. Bodhi, who understands the 'oh she's dropped her basket' routine, sat down next to me at rapt attention, keeping guard and sensing that this was a very important and strange mission he had been asked to be a part of... and then the rain came. There we sat, planted, faces towards the sky, sniffing the air, getting soaking wet, shelling and sharing peanuts and laughing manically (well Bodhi wasn't laughing but he was wagging his tail manically) for a good 10 or 15 minutes until the rain moved out.

Now granted it was only 10 minutes or so of rain, but it was enough of a fix to whet my appetite for more. Fortunately the wind blew with a purpose yesterday and there's another chance of rain today and tomorrow.

If this is monsoon season, it means two things. 1) I'm just going to be obnoxiously elated for the foreseeable future and 2) it will be followed with a quickness by ... wait for it... Fall.... and if you don't know what fall does to my head space, well... you're about to find out. (no worries, its a good time)

No moral this time kids.... only this... if you get a thick, rolling, heady, baritone, feel it in your chest, thunderstorm.... work your way through it with every expression of passion you can think of on my behalf ok?

So much love.

Peeking Down the Rabbit Hole and How Not To Go Hiking...

Hollah!!!!!!! (I answered the phone like that the other day to one of my co-workers and was greeted with extended silence and a then very haughty "why do you talk like that".... like its a regular thing or something. I mean, normally its something along the lines of "Good afternoon, this is Julie!". He's a little touchy though and his sense of humor requires a pair of high-end jumper cables at a minimum. Anyway... Hollah.

I really only have a brief second because I have a conference call starting in exactly 32 minutes that requires moderate preparation. (Yes boys and girls, that would be 6:30 my time. I'm taking phoning it in to a whole new level).

I mentioned in an earlier post that this is open season at work for the months of July, August, and September, all you can really do is put your head down and pray. That being the case, I realized yesterday as I was wrapping up for the day, I've showered twice since Friday. All I have eaten is a bowl of soup in last 48 hours, haven't worn anything but various renditions of pajamas since Saturday... maybe Friday... not sure and was struggling to remember the last time I left the house. Not so much the darkness (though poor DHB might beg to differ) as just running raged and no time! (It is way to early to be hearing the Guess Who in my head). So yesterday when I wrapped up at 3, I spent an hour returning to human form, complete with exfoliant, astringent, and bless my soul... perfume. I then put on matching clothes and decided that some fresh air was in order.

I had heard of a dog park not far from here so I thought that would be a nice way for me to get some fresh air without getting all nasty after my shower and give the dogs some exercise as well. I thought this, because where I come from, more often than not, dog parks resemble a glorified, over-sized back yard. After all, this one is right in the middle of downtown, across the street from the capital building. Take a minute, to share my vision... Me in my white shorts and pretty blue tank top with gleaming, shiny, very clean hair just drying in the sun, leisurely tossing a tennis ball while my two golden retrievers frolic through the freshly cut grass. (yikes.... bad romantic comedy, much?) No fear, I my vision was misdirected and I was circumstantially saved from lameness by the grace of ... well.. maybe grace is not the best choice of words here.

Turns out, dog park in SLC means hiking. Now, I'm totally down with hiking. I just usually like to have shoes on. Maybe a hair tie. Some water is always a good idea, but I don't want to be accused of being high maintenance. Give me the hair tie, I'll pass on the water. It started out misleading. We meandered down ... straight down.... this beautiful paved sidewalk over looking the canyon. It was relatively landscaped with statues and what not. I just figure the big back yard in my vision was a the bottom of the hill. It was paved. How was I to know. So we got to the bottom (from 10th ave to 1st ave if that helps put it in perspective) and saw this pretty little trail. So, we proceeded. Then we found a creek. Curious. Dharma is only normal when she's in water so I couldn't resist. They jumped in. We continued. Long story short, as usual, I ended up diving down the rabbit hole ("Hmmm... I wonder what's around this corner, oh my, how strange is that! Uh oh, I've lost the trail. Um.. I can't get up that hill without shoes on and the creek bank and path are gone. I'll just hike in the stream. Gee, climbing up on this moss covered dam with slippery flip flops seems like a great idea... oh my god i almost died. Oooh, what's that!"

Long story short, I almost fell off a dam and died, I flirted with heat stroke, I cut my foot, my shorts are ruined, I had to take another shower, the dogs smell like a swamp, and it was the absolute best afternoon I've had in ages.

All that said, the moral of this blog, ladies and gentlemen, screw the big backyard, when given the option. Always take the rabbit hole. Always.

The Kind of Blues You Can Tap Your Foot To...

It doesn’t even feel like Friday. After the week that has transpired, it seems like Monday was a lifetime ago; so long ago that I can barely remember it. It’s unfortunate that I’m starting this writing exercise in the midst of the 3^rd quarter of the government fiscal year. I have taken a vow, after listening to the story of a fellow blogger, www.dooce.com (check her out, she’s just plain awesome) to not discuss work on here, should I be able to contain myself. If I can’t contain myself, I’m finally approaching the end anyway and it won’t matter one way or the other. Point being, this is our wrap your arms around your body and squeeze, close your eyes and tell yourself that you’re ok with the fact that you that your hair is on fire, try your very best to stay focused on the big picture and not unleash the dogs of hell on your co-workers, busy time of year. Its 5:21 a.m. and I should be in the office in 9 minutes.

I’m starting to recognize some of the same cycle elements, here in Salt Lake City that crept in the first year in Nashville. Granted, this is on a much smaller scale, dare I even say, normal. It’s not the collapse on the bathroom floor, cut the cord embrace the darkness bad … I’m pretty sure this is just what they call ‘lonely’ The kind of blues you can still tap your foot to, if you know what I mean. So, this weekend, despite the fact that there are still boxes to be unpacked, pictures to be hung and closets to be organized, I’m going to try and get out and do a few things. The farmer’s market is open on Saturday, I’m joining the gym at the University today, and I have a list of knitting shops that I need to go visit. I’m going to try to hit at least two new ones this weekend.

It’s an odd dynamic right now, I love it here. This place fills me with a stillness and stability that I have never known. Being able to sit here in the mornings with my coffee and watch the sun leak up from behind the mountains, walking through this old house and listening to what 120 years sounds like, walking down the street and feeling a perpetual coolness in the air while taking in this town’s obsession with lavender and wild flowers…. It feels like home. It also feels like I’m standing right on the precipice of life, watching it, holding my breath, waiting for the signal, waiting for it to begin. Once we move, once DHB finishes his board exams, once things calm down at work, once I meet some people… there’s an ever so slight sense of hollowness that comes with watching your life from the third person. It’s something I need to get over. I need to plant lavender and wild flowers and be responsible for their survival. I need to bleed and sweat into these 120 year old floor boards making me a part of, not just the history, but the life of this old house through work and love. One of these mornings instead of sipping coffee on the couch, watching the sun leak up from behind the mountain; I should really drive over there and see what it looks like from the peaks. Now there’s a goal.

Happy Friday, everyone!

Welcome....

Good evening.

Welcome from a new home, both literally and figuratively. Hopefully, this greeting goes out to old friends, new friends, lost friends, found friends and hell, anyone else who is either bored or voyeuristic. (it's ok, I get it, it’s cool... just stay away from my windows.) So with such a diverse group of people, I guess a brief introduction is in order....

I used to blog religiously. Every single morning of my life. I'm passionate about many things, writing, searching, telling stories, connecting and of course... people... to name a very small few. A public journal is sheer perfection for one who admittedly leans towards, at best, compulsive and at less-than-best, addictive. It all started with Myspace. However, Myspace proved to be a little unreliable... as did the audience... as did life. So, long story short, (famous last words.... never believe me when I say that... it usually means a long and excruciatingly detailed story is on the verge of spilling out all over the place) here we are at a new blog host, on a new computer, in a new town, in a new state with the same foundations in passion, quests, and magic, but with a whole new perspective. I’d like to think that it’s not all self serving though. With any luck we’ll have some good conversations, have an epiphany or two and share some laughs.

Thematics.

So, Shades of Gray. In a convoluted way, over the course of a convoluted time in my life, it kind of morphed into my thing. I guess it defines a world view, a philosophy, an insight, and maybe even a morality. You see, I don't believe in absolutes. I believe that life is entirely too grand, in both essence and scale, to be broken down into definitive, bite sized pieces... good and evil, love and hate, passion and apathy, reality and fantasy, and even truth and fiction. Life is complex and in order to truly understand it, you must look for the nuance; you must seek out what lies in between the chasm of absolutes. Everything has both darkness and light... it is the combination of the black and white that makes the whole. This blog will be my view of life through this philosophy, my quest for the whole, if you will.... my interpretation of the the shades of gray. I’m always amazed at how uncomfortable this philosophy makes people, but I’ve come to understand why. Bear with me for a few weeks… like most things I find myself stirring up, it might be awkward, occasionally uncomfortable, and maybe even slightly terrifying at first, but I swear to you, at some point you’ll look around and realize you’re having a blast.

Style.

A final few notes on prose and then I will bid you adieu until the morning. I have no business writing with the on this side of the sky.

• I often write at the absolute crack of dawn sometime between 4 and 5:30 a.m. I write as I'm caffeinating, which is when I find I'm my most candid (sometimes dangerous), clear (it’s amazing how the mind works before the life has had a chance to intrude) and long winded (sorry 'bout that, you can skim, I won't know the difference… though there are occasional quizzes)
• I am an English Major and fully embrace every single corresponding cliché, down to the three Shakespeare anthologies (you can never have too many) sitting on my desk next to my Riverside Chaucer and antique, Victorian ink well. Despite my desire to be the cliché, I cannot spell worth a damn and generally don't pause for grammar like I should. My inner literary conscience (her initials are Professor S. P.) eats me alive inside, but she's very quiet and very forgiving and she makes incredible brownies so it works out.
• I have an infamously excessive and prolific repertoire of cuss words but don't think foul language looks pretty on paper, so please insert it often and creatively, should it be omitted. If it happens to appear, I really really mean it.
• Please feel free to comment! I spend a lot of time by myself... it’s nice to know you're out there ;) The only thing that I ask is that you keep an open mind. Lots of different world views, over all same goal.

So much love...

J.