run on sentences

Today is Danny's 22nd birthday. We talked yesterday and I mentioned that there's really not much to look forward to in Birthdays once you get past 21. He disagreed and mentioned that at 25 you can rent a car and at 35 you can be president. I added, "And at 26, you can't be on my health insurance any longer". Dan was our only summer baby. He was the smallest at 6lbs 3 oz,and was delivered by the now dead doc who I mentioned in an earlier blog. He was a surprise but so were the other two. It is amazing to think that if we had planned (can people really do that) any of our kids, they would all be totally different. I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. It was about 4 days before Bruce's vasectomy. I was happy even though I was surprised, and I cried. For some reason, I saw one more kid in the future for us, even though we took preventive measures. I swear it was his Mormon relatives who stayed with us - I think they poked holes in my diagphagm. If they

Today on my Sunday run with Sid, we decided to dedicate our efforts to our departed dads. Sid has had many fathers days without his dad, who died when Sid was 13. Sid is now 83, the same age my dad would have been had he not died two years ago. This is only my second father's day without my dad. I think it was easier than the first one. As we ran but mostly walked in the quiet, warm morning, we told stories about our dads - not always the ones they would be happy to hear us telling. Sid's dad's name was Jack (like my dog). Apparently Jack was a cranky, Archie Bunker type guy who was very sexist. Once he yelled at some poor woman who ran into the back of his car. "No one deserved that" Sid told me. "I was just a little kid and even I knew that he should not have yelled at that poor lady that way". The funniest story Sid told about Jack was that he came home from a party drunk one night. Sid shared a bedroom with his parents because there were only two bed

The other day I was reading the obituaries like I always do. I noticed that the doctor who delivered my youngest had died. I didn't like him and I hoped I had done nothing by my dislike, to send him bad Karma. I meant him no harm, but he was a jerk. I had found him rather patronizing during my pregnancy, despite his dark curly hair, and because of his stuck on himself sort of personality. He was used to running the show and had a "there, there, don't worry your pretty little head sort of attitude", but Dan came out okay (no pun intended). My real dislike came after I ran the Park City Marathon in 2001 and my uterus decided it had done it's civic duty and was no longer willing to be a part of my body, and started to leave on it's own accord. Pelvic pain made me seek medical attention, and my internal medicine doc decided I had a falling out with my uterus. Like many docs, she didn't want to recommend anyone to me, leaving me to seek out someone willing to h

One of my favorite poems is by James Russell Lowell. I had to memorize the first verse in some Junior High English Class, but the entire poem is really nice: What is So Rare As a Day in June AND what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays; Whether we look, or whether we listen, We hear life murmur, or see it glisten; Every clod feels a stir of might, An instinct within it that reaches and towers, And, groping blindly above it for light, Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers; The flush of life may well be seen Thrilling back over hills and valleys; The cowslip startles in meadows green, The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean To be some happy creature's palace; The little bird sits at his door in the sun, atilt like a blossom among the leaves, And lets his illumined being o'errun With the deluge of summer it receives; His