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photo by Sheri Dixon

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

Which Way Will the Wind Blow?

In 2016, the young, new voters who'd only remembered Obama as POTUS were shell-shocked at what we got in spite of voting and in spite of Hillary winning the popular vote by over 3 million. They couldn't believe that such an unjust result could come out of what they'd been taught is "the best system on Earth!" Some vowed to never vote again. Then they watched as things got worse. In all ways and all arenas of their lives. And they got angry.
The young people I know are absolutely voting today or have already done so- young people who are pissed off by this shitshow in DC that is ruining their future every day in every way. They are a force motivated by a terrific sense of justice and desire to make this nation work for everyone in it, not just those who can afford to start at a level most of us never reach.
They rightfully believe that this nation can afford to give everyone healthcare, a good education, a *living* wage, and a strong social safety net, because only those things will result in healthy economic growth. Only true equality for all will benefit everyone from the top to the bottom. Only a tightly-regulated capitalism can be acceptable. To open the "free market to do its magic" as this administration is doing is only magic if you are already at the very top. The top 1% do great. The very bottom 10% die. They die. That's not a euphemism. They die of sickness and hunger and exposure. They. Die. Those in between are kept in a state of indentured servitude...till they die, never grasping the gold ring that they are told is "just around the corner- if you only want it badly enough and work hard enough". Unbridled capitalism is not compatible with a compassionate society. Period.
Will these young people outnumber the old farts who have swallowed Trump's litany of fear and hatred? Old white people who believe that "if Democrats win we will lose this great economy (that doesn't exist), have open borders (that no one wants), and have rampant crime (as opposed to Nazis in the street?)"
Because Trump's "miracles" are all smoke and mirrors. Smoke and mirrors. A shell game for the simple-minded. The business I manage is *not* doing better- it's doing worse under Trump's economy than it did under Obama...even right after he took office and we were in the middle of a damn recession.
My employees are *not* "keeping more of their paychecks", from the highest salaried doctor to the lowest kennel help. Not one penny more.
The "manufacturer spending through the roof!" that he crows about is manufacturers stockpiling raw materials before the tariffs kick in. It's not sustainable or healthy.
Old white people who believe with all their hearts that we can't afford healthcare, even though opening up Social Security to everyone who is paying into it would be far cheaper than any private plan. They believe that a "caravan" of refugees *on foot*, 1,000 miles from the US border is a threat and want a wall built along a border *that is impossible because of a river and mountains and property rights*. They think things that are ridiculous but scary are good expenses, but programs that mean they, their family, their neighbors don't *die* of preventable things are not "sensible". The old white people are motivated by fear and a misguided hatred of anything that smacks to them of "socialism". They are voting in force to "save America". Which will win the soul of America?
Determination to become a more progressive, compassionate, and ultimately richer society?
Or fear, hatred, and a staunch determination to haul this nation backwards to a utopia for white people that never really existed outside TV shows and Norman Rockwell paintings?
That, my friends, is the nail-biter for tonight.
I believe in the passion of young people, but know the bullheadedness of old people. We shall see.

Saturday, September 29, 2018

I'm So Done With the Fucking Monsters

Q: How can *women* tell daughters "It's just how boys/men are"? A: It's not approval of the culture. It's a warning not to cross it or you'll get hurt worse or killed.
*They are protecting them, based on their own experiences. And their mothers' and grandmothers'...growing up and living in a world of fucking monsters.
This whole Brett Kavanaugh thing is disgusting. Watching a grown-ass man during his *job interview* totally lose his cool, start ranting, blaming a political party *specifically* when the job he's interviewing for is supposed to be non-partisan, whine, turn all sorts of red, spew his "credentials", and ultimately cry was disgusting. Dr. Ford before him sat resolute, yet with tremors in her voice. She admitted she was scared to death. She didn't call him or his friend names or otherwise denigrate them. She was clear and concise and sincere. She spoke from her heart and unless you are a fucking monster, your heart broke listening to her. Kavanaugh did not even take ten seconds to acknowledge her pain before launching into how much he *deserves* this job and dammit, some chick he doesn't even remember is not going to take it from him. He blamed the Democratic party and the Clintons specifically for this "smear campaign" and actually threatened revenge for this embarrassing inconvenience. Then Lindsey Graham piled on in an unhinged and childish tantrum; red-faced and yelling in what is supposed to be a serious step in the search for a new Supreme Court Justice. If you think either of these men were in any way reasonable or justified in their horrid and totally unprofessional behavior, you are a fucking monster. In case there is any question, I believe Dr. Ford. In case there is any question, I think Brett Kavanaugh is a whiny, entitled, rich boy who has been called on his shit and he's melting down about it like a toddler whose ice cream just fell to the ground. This is not Supreme Court Material and anyone who thinks it is...is a fucking monster. "But what if she's lying? Shouldn't he be able to defend himself? What precedent is this setting for the future? So a woman just has to accuse, and a guy just has to take it?" Even if she's lying (she's not), his reaction and the reaction of the entire GOP Good Ol' Boys' Club was not only inappropriate, it was basically screaming "GUILTY AS HELL" and anyone who has ever raised kids knows this. Even if he's as thick as a brick mentally (and I guess he is), his response and the response of every GOP senator in there should have been, "We are profoundly sorry you were so traumatized. We believe you have mis-remembered the players here, but we will do everything we can to make sure the culture that allowed that sort of behavior becomes dusty history on our watch." But they didn't. They heard her testimony and they were fucking monsters. On national TV. In front of their daughters and grand-daughters, wives and mothers, co-workers and constituents. In front of God and everybody. And they felt they were justified to do so. That's not leadership or maturity. Of course, Donald "Pussy Grabber in Chief" Trump piped up, too; valiantly defending the honor of...Kavanaugh, and questioning the testimony of Dr. Ford. But we already know *he* is a fucking monster. This little fiasco has neatly divided our nation even more than it already was. Team A: Good Ol' Boys who are all abluster about how this has "ruined a great guy" and who are horrified that maybe they, too, will be called on their shit. Team B: Men who think Kavanaugh is an asshole. Team C: Women who are now "afraid" for their sons because "some girl" could ruin his lily-white reputation "for no good reason". Team D: Women who think Kavanaugh is an asshole. Team E: Women who have been assaulted sometime in their life and the last few days have brought it all back to the surface; jagged and raw. We're the ones who are horrified at Teams A and C and have spent the last 24 hours or so with migraines, nausea, and nightmares. Also, we think Kavanaugh is an asshole. "Why would anyone wait so long to tell anyone?" -You were young and stupid and yes, you got drunk and alone with a boy when you knew better. Here's the thing you don't realize till you are older: No matter how drunk or hormonal you and/or he was, the very second you got scared and said, "Wait. Stop" HE SHOULD HAVE STOPPED. THE FACT THAT HE DIDN'T MAKES HIM A FUCKING MONSTER. But what do you hear if you tell someone? "What were you wearing?" "Why were you drinking?" "Why did you go with him by yourself?" "He was drinking and got carried away" "Boys have raging hormones" "You led him on" *You hear that it's your fault. It was your fault he was a fucking monster and you got what you deserved. -He held some sort of power over you or was an authority figure- a boss or teacher or pastor or relative or even your husband. He may or may not have said, "If you tell anyone, I will kill you", "If you tell anyone I will fire you", "If you tell anyone, no one will believe you". If he threatened any of those things, and even if he didn't, HE WAS A FUCKING MONSTER. But what do you hear if you tell someone? "Why didn't you just quit?" "Why didn't you report him?" "What were you wearing?" "You must've led him on" "You need to obey your husband" "It's impossible to be raped by your husband" "He's such a great guy; surely you're mistaken about what happened" "How can you say he did that? He's your (fill in the blank with any male relative)" *You hear that it's your fault. It was your fault he was a fucking monster and you got what you deserved. But here's the thing. By the time humans are about three years old, we know that to hurt another human is wrong. To willfully hurt another human who is begging you to stop is to be a fucking monster. That's true 100% of the time. Perhaps the most vexing to those of us in teams B, D, or E are the women who seem to *not* believe their daughters and who say "What were you wearing?" "Why were you drinking?" "Why did you go with him by yourself?" "He was drinking and got carried away" "Boys have raging hormones" "You led him on" and most importantly..."Boys will be boys and that's just how men are". Boys will be boys and that's just how men are. You know what that is at its core? That's a woman who has been assaulted at some point telling her daughter not to make waves; you can't fight this. It's not that she doesn't believe her. She believes her 100%. But either she told someone when it happened to her and she wasn't believed, or she's never told anyone and is just resigned to the barbarism of this aspect of our culture. "Leave it be. Don't make waves. Be more careful from now on. Be happy you are still alive. If you make waves, not only will it be awful all over again, but he may hurt you again. Worse. He may kill you this time." One out of three American women will be sexually assaulted at some point in their lives. On the one hand, 85% of women know their attacker- the "strange man climbing through the window or attacking while the woman is jogging" is not the norm by a long shot. On the other hand, only 10% of men brought up on rape charges are convicted, meaning 9 times out of 10, if you come forward and go through the additional agony and stress of legal action, your attacker walks free...and now he's pissed at you, bringing us to... ...75% of women who are murdered, are murdered by a sexual partner. "Why would anyone wait so long to tell someone?" I dunno, perhaps the *fact* that you probably know him, and may even have to continue to see him in your day to day life, added to the *fact* that there's a 9 out of 10 chance that he will *not* be convicted, topped off with the *fact* that if he gets really pissed off, he may very well kill you for embarrassing him and "ruining his life", may be enough effective cultural deterrents to maintain the misogynistic status quo.

“Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them.” 

Margaret Atwood 

"Aren't you just a bunch of liberal women over-reacting? This is the United States, not some shit-hole country. Women are doing *great* here!"

Ummm...not really. For the first time, in 2018 the US was placed on the "10 Most Dangerous Countries for Women" list by the Thomassen Reuters Foundation. Here's the entire list-
1. India
2. Afghanistan
3. Syria
4. Somalia
5. Saudi Arabia
6. Pakistan
7. Democratic Republic of Congo
8. Yemen
9. Nigeria
10. United States
That's not exactly a list of nations I want to be part of. So what can we do?
We start with making sure our *sons* (no matter their age) and the men in our lives (no matter their age) understand what is acceptable behavior. That means standing up to them and not taking their shit anymore. That's a scary prospect for some of us in all situations and a scary prospect for all of us in some situations. As *women*, we *have* to have each other's back in this endeavor. We have to.
Then, we send a loud and clear message to our elected officials that the Good Ol' Boys' Club is closed. We are burning that treehouse straight to the ground. We can do that in November and again in 2020.
Yes, there will be huge pushback from men who are fucking monsters and women who are afraid. 
Yes, it's going to get worse before it gets better; this shit always does. The powerful never give anything without a fight and I mean a literal fight. 
But I can see the other side, now. And it's worth it.

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”

Arundhati Roy 
For those who are all "Founding Fathers' Intent" and who reject anything that sounds suspiciously foreign (like the above author's name), here's one from Founding Father John Adams' wife...back when women and children were considered property and not human:

“...remember the ladies, and be more generous and favorable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the Ladies we are determined to foment a Rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice, or Representation.”
Abigail Adams 

I believe Dr. Ford.

I believe Brett Kavanaugh does not have the temperament to sit on the Supreme Court.

I believe the days of the fucking monsters being in charge are almost over.

I believe in us.








Saturday, September 8, 2018

He Started it...But I'm Ending It

The mantis in the guinea pig barn is dead. That's a fact.

All has been peaceful in the guinea pig barn.

Day before yesterday, I needed something off of the screened porch, so I opened the door from the dining room and went out there. As I closed the door behind me, I noticed THE MANTIS ON THE DOORKNOB. I grabbed what I needed, and when the mantis flew up onto the door window, I ducked into the house.

Yesterday morning, I again needed something from the porch.

I looked carefully through the window, inspecting every surface in sight. No mantis.

I opened the door slowly...no mantis on the knob. Before I went back into the house, I checked the entire surface of the door...nothing.

With a sigh of relief, I went into the house, closing the door behind me, glanced up and saw THE MANTIS ON THE INSIDE OF THE DOOR.

The little bastard had been on the porch-side of the door and when I opened the door, he'd SLID AROUND THE GAP WHERE THE HINGES ARE AND GAINED ENTRY TO MY HOME.

Mantis: "Heh, heh, heh. Now what are you gonna do, puny human?"

Me: *picks up fly swatter and terminates mantis*

This is War. No Prisoners.

PS- the wolf spiders in the bathroom have never done me this way. They're civilized bugs.

Asshole Mantids.

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

He Started It...Part Two

When we went into the barn this morning, we were greeted with a pitiful sight.

Lying in the middle of the floor, upside down, little boxing gloves in the air, was the dead mantis. It looked...odd and dry, but it's, yanno...a bug.

Gomez picked it up and tossed it outside.

The end.

At work, one of my co-workers posted a photo of many mantids on a hand on my Facebook and said, "His friends are gathering and coming to get you." Another co-worker saw the photo (the one who had fed my farm Monday morning, it so happened) looked aghast and said, "Oh, fuck no. Let me tell you what happened to me at Sheri's place!"

I was not Rabid Mantid's first victim.

She had been feeding the guinea pigs and had gotten to the same spot I'd been attacked, except she had seen no mantis. Suddenly, he appeared ON THE FRONT OF HER GLASSES, his tiny but fierce front feet waving menacingly. She flung her glasses off, rendering her pretty much blind, so she couldn't see if the mantis had gone with them. Cussing up a storm, she frantically pulled at her hair to be sure he wasn't lodged there.

She didn't see him again, but finished up the chores with alacrity.

So he was a repeat offender as far as aggressive behavior. I was happy he was dead.

Tonight, I was feeding the guinea pigs and got to...that same spot in the barn. I looked down and THERE WAS THE MANTIS PERCHED ON THE TOP OF THE CAGE, WAVING HIS TINY BUT FIERCE FRONT FEET AT ME.

What the hell?

In a flash, it all became clear. He'd spent all night constructing the faux mantis corpse out of stray bits of bedding and hay to lull me into a false sense of security.

Luckily, Gomez came into the barn just then, saw me frozen in terror, followed my horrified gaze, and was able to snatch the little asshole up while it was plotting my imminent demise.

I'd like to say he killed it, but his default is to catch and release, so out the door he tossed it.

If you don't hear from me again, you will know.

The mantis prevailed.


Tuesday, September 4, 2018

He Started It

I'm normally a fan of mantids.

I mean, they eat their weight in other bugs every day and I've seen one hold four cats at bay just using chutzpah. I admit, I was initially horrified to realize that they can fly, but in general...a fan.

So, when I came on one in the guinea pig barn this morning, I was a little startled (because he blended right in with the grid-pattern of the cages) but overall I thought, "Cool."

I gently guided him out of my way as I did chores in the room; watering, cleaning cages, feeding...during the cleaning phase, there was a moment when he was perched facing me, waving his tiny-but-fierce little mantis arms at me and I (still gently) swept him off of the board he was on and out of pouncing distance. He reappeared at the top of a cage while I was feeding.

I carefully worked around him and then turned to the other side of the room. I was halfway down the line when I felt something hit the side of my head and before that could register, it started BITING ME. I smacked the side of my head and the little asshole mantis dropped down to my arm STILL BITING. I shook him off my arm and proceeded posthaste to the house to summon Gomez to offer him as a sacrifice  have him valiantly save me from the evil little aggressive bastard.

Of course, when we got back to the barn, the bug had moved. Gomez said, "Guess it's gone" and I said, "No. You stay here. It's watching us. I can feel it." A few minutes later, I spied the insect-demon and told Gomez, "Get it out of here."

The barn is not well-lit and Gomez has just the one eye which messes with depth perception, so he missed it and it flew down to the floor. I said, "Just step on it!" and he tried, but they are fast little shits, so it skittered away.

Gomez (thinking no doubt of his cup of coffee waiting for him on his desk) said briskly, "Well? You feel safe now?"

NO. NO, I DO NOT. YOU JUST PISSED IT OFF EVEN MORE AND IT'S SOMEWHERE NEAR THE FEED BAGS WHERE I WILL BE STICKING MY HANDS SO YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE, MISTER.

The mantis did not re-appear and I finished feeding in peace.

Tonight, we didn't see it at first. Gomez posited that the pigs ate it. Yes. My herbivore pigs ate one of the most carnivorous creatures ever to come down the evolutionary pike. We spotted it at last, and again it evaded capture.

Tomorrow morning, Gomez will be with me when I go feed. If he wants coffee, it'll be on the other side of an executed/evicted mantis.

Because that's what husbands are for.




Monday, July 9, 2018

And Miles to go Before We Sleep

Exhausting.

It's exhausting being a compassionate, thinking, left-of-liberal American right now.

The 2016 election plunged us off of the Cliffs of Despair and every time we think we've hit the bottom; every time our current administration and its maniacal followers do something that we think is surely the worst they have to throw at us and the rest of the world...we just keep falling.

It's bottomless and constant and exhausting.

It's not about "Hillary losing". It was never about Hillary losing. It's about what "won". Not just "who" won. It's the decimation of the moral compass of the soul of our nation in the form of hatred and cruelty and ignorance that's absolutely dazzling...wrapped up in a package filled with excrement and vomit and labeled "patriotism with an extra-large side of Jesus" even though Jesus would be horrified at its contents.

Being here, behind the Pine Curtain; a historically regressive enclave even inside the merging intersections of "Old South" and "Texas", it's palpable and stench-filled. This clawing, gnawing, snarling vortex that has been so threatened and aghast at anything progressive at all that's happened in our nation in the last...100 years.

Civil Rights
Women's Rights
Any type of "socialistic-leaning big-government program"

They want to repeal all of it. All of it.
And they're giddy with the scent of blood; they can see it within their grasp.

Racists are emboldened and violence is on the rise.
We can't even pretend to be a civilized nation anymore.
Oh, sure, most of us have flush toilets and clean bath water every day or so, and there's a Walmart and McDonald's on every corner, but most of us are one paycheck away from disaster...and falling.

Our children are getting shot in school on a weekly basis.
Our people are dying of preventable things for lack of access to healthcare.
We have the highest maternal mortality in the industrialized world.

And our current administration's idea of "fixing it" is to make everything better for those who already own most of the marbles. Less regulation, less taxes on corporations, blow it all open for "the private sector" to "do its magic". Trickle Down has been disproven for almost 40 years but *now* it's going to work? The only things they are willing to give to "the rest of us" are things that will not affect them one bit-
-a stupid wall to "keep out the illegals"
-repealing women's rights in the name of Jesus
-slashing "socialistic government programs"...that their base either already relies on or will rely on but because it's "socialism" it's got to go!

On a global scale, our nation is aligning itself with people our fathers and grandfathers DIED fighting. Dictators, Nazis (real actual ones), human rights' violators of all stripes, while shunning nations who have been our allies for generations.

So, I'm exhausted and I'm disgusted and many days I'm ready to, if not desert this festering febrile clinically-insane nation as a whole...at least uproot from this rotting regressive pocket of it. Shake the red dust of East Texas off of our shoes and head to the Pacific Northwest where people aren't so...awful. When we visited the Olympic Rainforest four years ago, I knew instantly. I knew that someday we'd move there and be able to relax mentally.

Don't get me wrong. Individual East Texans are wonderful, generous, caring people and I love quite a number of them after a quarter of a century here. But as a group? En masse? They keep re-electing Louie Gohmert. That's really all the clarification you need.

Why do we stay?

Our farm is here. Our log cabin that we build ourselves in the middle of the most perfect little East Texas Pineywoods forest you could imagine, with a hill and wetlands and two creeks and huge trees. That's a big thing. Home.

My job is here. I love it and it's important to the community of East Texas as well as the livelihood for now upwards of 20 people. So that's a big thing. I'm positioning a number of staff members to take the reins when I retire in 4 years so it can continue to grow and thrive.

Some days four years seems an eternity and I want to go *now*. Right now. Just...get the hell out of here before we suffocate in racism and incivility and MAGA hats and "Trump that Cunt" bumper stickers.

But.

We can't go yet. Because the next few years will be a long, drawn-out extension of what we're seeing happen now, we can't go yet. Even if we can. Even if we want to. We can't.

Because here's the thing. I'm a little old white lady who is reasonably middle-class and who is mostly fearless. There are a lot of people here in East Texas who are none of the above and no matter how inconvenienced I am by the steamroller of regression, the worst it will do to me is piss me off.

We need to stay because if we can help even one person who is marginalized, even one person who is affected negatively, even one person who will suffer at the hands of all this "making America great again", we have to do it.

We need to stay because someone who is white, and in a "management position", and looks like every other little old white lady in East Texas has to say, "NO. That's wrong. I do not agree with that and here's why..." Because otherwise, with no one opposing them, they will think it's right.


But some days it's a mighty weight. Some days I should be doing something productive and I just can't. Yesterday was one of those days. So I get on Trulia and browse...browse my "someday" and drink in the coolness of the rainforest on my computer screen; remembering the sight and sound of it from four years ago.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep.
And miles to go before I sleep.
 And miles to go before I sleep."

6.5 acres on the west side of Lake Cushman. Lakefront. Insert log cabin *here*







Friday, April 6, 2018

If the Shoe Fits

Yanno, in all the movies where the hero has cancer and he battles it valiantly with his loving family at his side and he beats it?

Not the one where he dies a heroic and beautiful meaningful death. Those suck.

The other one. The one where the doctor smiles and says, "Your scan came back negative. Have a nice life" and everyone hugs everyone while they cry and cry and cry and the movie fades out and the music plays thru the credits and you just know that they resume normal life and live happily ever after. That one.

I'd like to say that's how all cancer-beating stories end, but I'd be lying.

Because we were that family and continue to be that family every year when they scan his head and say, "Mr. Dixon, there is nothing of note in your head" and we all laugh and laugh and go home.

But.

What they didn't tell us was the other shoe that may drop.

That shoe that was me finding Ward's teeth around the house like some weird bizarro-world tooth fairy shit because they would just fall out of his mouth and he'd just...set it right here. Or there. Or over there. And the doctor said, "Oh, yeah. That radiation never stops working and it's now eating away his jaw. Let's do some major dental surgery and fit him with dentures so he doesn't break his own jaw chewing oatmeal."

That was a few years ago.

Or the shoe that was Ward fighting his way back from not knowing who I was or where we lived or how to read and who weighed a horrifying Auschwitz-like 130 pounds back in 2010 when he was in the hospital for 6 weeks and almost died. Fighting like hell mentally and physically so he made it back to about 90% of pre-surgery Ward. That shoe was a real bastard.

Or the shoe that was Ward starting to get a little fuzzy and forgetful in 2013 so we went back to the neurologist at MD Anderson and they did a brain scan and did cognitive testing and said, "There are some deficits. We believe they were caused by the radiation (that never stops working) and the hours and hours of general anesthetic he's undergone. It's not Alzheimers but it may progress the same and it'll look the same from the outside."

Well, he's "progressed" very little since then. It's been almost not noticeable and totally manageable since then.

Then yet another shoe, in the form of the pneumonia he came down with over Thanksgiving weekend this past fall. He almost died (he needs to stop doing that) and was rendered unconscious and on a ventilator for 3 days in ICU to keep him alive. He was hooked up to *twelve* IV pumps.

Well, that plumb flattened him out, physically and mentally.

Physically, he fought back again. Mentally, it was harder. It was a goddamned struggle and continues to be one.

The therapist locally did some very surface testing and said, "He needs to be under the care of a neurologist." So we went back to the one we had seen in 2013...since she had all his last results.

They re-did the scan and re-did the three hours of cognitive testing.

The doctor saw us today. There was no laughing. The additional 3 days of anesthetic and the physical insult of the pneumonia took a terrible toll.

While *most* of his mental functions are normal to above-normal, his memory is severely impaired; both short term and long term. His test results, as far as memory, are those of someone with "moderately severe Alzheimers".

The report from the PET scan says the changes in his brain, while problematic and definitely serious, aren't exactly typical of Alzheimers, and that they still think it was caused by all the shit he's been through, but he needs to be under the care of someone who does strictly dementia care- the neuro doctor at MD Anderson is used to looking at tumors and saying, "Yep. That's gotta go" and getting it gone.

She had tears in her eyes as she said, "I'd like to say we can help him here, but we are not set up for that. He needs someone who specializes in dementia. I'm sorry" and she handed us the contact information for Baylor and UT departments of neuro-dementia studies.

So...one more damn thing.

It's not right. My Knight in Shining Armor has been thru cancer, diabetes, heart attack, heart failure, AND he's married to me. Hasn't he suffered enough???

My family is sick to death of "the other shoe".

No wonder we all go barefoot 99% of the time.