Here is some information about BAF, the charity supported by our fan club.

" As a Foundation we have an
effective inclusive summer camp program entitled
"Let's All Play." Our Friend Mikayla, written and
illustrated by the 3rd grade class in Lower Nazareth
Elementary, has been well received. The Federal and
State Farm grants have generated excellent initial
work for a K-12 inclusive curriculum and work with
Johns Hopkins University has highlighted interesting
potential for helping to bridge the educational gap
that exists for many students with special needs and
their peers. All in all, great progress, but still
much to do. I feel most importantly we have to
challenge ourselves as to how we can touch the lives
of more kids!"

The SW Missouri Show Me Clay Fan Club had our June meeting at Jaiken’s home and what a sweet time it was. You can see the pool in the background from the deck where we ate.






She prepared a birthday surprise for one member. Guess who that is popping out of the cake?? Unfortunately, he wasn’t there, he’s rehearsing, ya’know, for that summer concert tour complete with orchestra. We'll all be in Tulsa for a concert on July 7. Yeah!!!! Road trip!!!!
…….




Here’s the famous redhead herself, my good friend, H2, and the lovely natural blonde geni having a little fun, as usual….well, I’m talking as usual and she’s lookin way too young.




Our president keeps things percolating for BAF. The club donated eight OUR FRIEND MIKALA books to area libraries,






Now we are in the planning stages of a Scrapping for Inclusion tour de force next fall to raise fund for BAF. I can’t believe so few women (we have a very small club) can do so much. Get your friends together. You to can make a difference.






Remember “it’s better to light one little candle than to curse the darkness” or “a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” or “not dead yet”……whatever your mantra might be…..




Clay Aiken in concert. Of course, making a difference is Clay's mantra. Just ask that guy who didn’t give up and drove from Charlotte and Atlanta to try out for American Idol again after he had been turned down the first time.

It’s just me, geni

MY FATHER'S DAY TRIBUTE




This is my daddy opening a Christmas gift I bought him. After he retired he took over the cooking and his specialty was vegetable soup….don’t ask me why…..oh, he took over the cooking because my mother wasn’t any better a cook than I am.

My father died over fifteen years ago and I can still hear his laughter, see his smile. He was the man by which I judged all other men – and very few even came close. He was not a wealthy man, not an imposing looking man, not an important man in the eyes of the world. But he was the world to the women in his life, and his daughter adored him. I am his legacy. All that I am, he shaped. All my values were his, as are his personality, his assets and his faults, even his interests are still mine.

When he died, suddenly of a heart attack, I handled his funeral, and wrote his eulogy. This is my testament to him. I believe a man should be eulogized by one who knew him well – someone who loved him – and I loved him most of all. His passing from this earth should be noted by more than a short paragraph of facts in the middle of a newspaper obituary column.

My dad was a man of character. He was a man of strong moral fiber. You knew where he stood and where you stood with him. He always spoke his mind, regardless of who might be hurt, including himself. This was an asset or a fault – I always admired it in him but Mother always said he could think whatever he wanted, he didn’t have to say it out loud.

I always felt a little sorry for my father – always surrounded by women – his mother and two sisters as a boy – his wife and daughter as a man. And hard women, too. The women in his life, either born or married, were and are rock-hard, all of them – including me, his only child. Undoubtedly, we alll helped shape his character. He was always a gentleman among women, but he had to be tough to survive. Maybe that’s why he learned the fine art of argument.

My, how that man loved to argue! His friends were also men who loved to argue. I have listened to him spend a whole evening in loud disagreement (not a debate, no one ever changed his mind). I’d wonder how they could remain friends after that. But, you know, he never downgraded another man behind his back after those arguments. He respected a man’s right to his opinion and respected any man or woman who had the guts to voice those opinions. I finally decided that arguing was a source of entertainment to both of them.

He was not a joiner. The only memberships he ever held were his church and his union. He remained a union man long after his retirement. Of course, this was a fine topic for arguments, as was politics – a Democrat to the end. He even admitted he was a “yellow dog Democrat” – with pride, I might add.

He didn’t argue about religion. His faith was a fact and not arguable. He was a true believer in saving grace. I walked by their bedroom every night on my way to get ready for bed, and I would see him on his knees every night. I never heard a word. He was not a demonstrative man, even in private. It was between him and his God.

He had no hobbies, unless you count swinging. Many an evening he and I would spend swinging on the patio or deck, talking, sometimes arguing, gazing up at the stars. We were very curious about those stars. We were avid science fiction fans and had all kinds of speculations about distant galaxies. Or sometimes we were quiet, just swinging back and forth, lost in their beauty and mystery.

What more can you say about a man than to say you were proud of him. His wife was proud to sit beside him every Sunday in that same church pew. His daughter was proud to have him walk her down the aisle. His grandchildren were proud to have their friends also call him grandpa.

I was also proud to print Shakespeare’s soliloquy from Romeo and Juliette in his funeral program. It could have been written for him. Who knows, maybe it was.

“When he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars
And he shall make the face of heaven so fine
That all the Earth shall be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun…”

And now you know why I love stars.





Kansas City - Daddy hadn't been back from WWII too long when this was taken.





I was always holding Daddy's hand when i had the chance....and i seem to be edging away from Mother......hmmmmmmmm





We look so serious here. Of course, without my glasses, i always looked like i was a little worried about something.





It’s just me, geni

Ebb Tide by The Righteous Brothers is certainly not as familiar as two of their other hits from the ’60s. For some strange reason (yeah, right) I bet everyone here is quite familiar with ‘Unchained Melody” and surely everyone’s favorite Tom Cruise movie, Top Gun, rings a bell with even younger members, and the unforgettable song from it, “You’ve Got That Lovin’ Feelin” was by The Righteous Brothers. Still sends chills up and down my spine, anyway.

In case you’re wondering where I’m going with this…..or where it came from…..Clay’s late night blog, so full of information contained this referenceBut, when I got to my room, I was so excited by the cool view…. Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, is located on the southern tip of the Baja Peninsula. Both the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean, viewed from a Mexican balcony are breathtaking. Here’s another view.





I’ve been to both coasts of Mexico.






The color of the water at Playa del Carmen can hardly be described.
And I was especially entranced by the sound of the tide at night.




So I wrote a poem about it…..how did you guess…………

The waves thunder into the shore each night
The exotic Caribbean blue has solomned
Sitting alone on the beach, it’s mesmerizing
They roar in, then recede
They roar in, then recede
They roar in, then recede
Endlessly

The majesty of their force is primeval
Since before time began
Leveling all before them
Absconding with what had been
They never end
They never will
They are mindless

Are the waves louder, more forceful at night?
Or does the silence of the stars still the soul
And it can listen with the heart?
Is it the gentle warmth of the Latin night
And the softness of the embracing sand
That revives this poignant yearning?

Do they have, do they need a purpose?
Is mindless, ceaseless motion enough?
But life is always seeking meaning
In the stars or in the surf.
Even when there is none.

The tide will return
I never will.
geni 2007


Here are the words to Ebb Tide.

“First the tide rushes in, plants a kiss on the shore
Then rolls out to sea and the sea is very still once more
So I ll rush to your side, like the oncoming tide
With one burning thought, will your arms open wide?

At last, we’re face to face,
and as we kiss, through an embrace
I can tell, I can feel, you are love, you are real, really mine
In the rain, in the dark, in the sun

Like the tide at its ebb,
I’m at peace
in the web
of your arms.
Ebb tide.

ahhhhhhhhhh, it’s just me, sentimental geni

JUST FOR DOG LOVERS

The music is "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserables - no reason except it is one of my very favorite songs and from the first Broadway play Lara took me to see in NYC.




Mr. Bruce, he's waiting for me somewhere, i know.




I got this email from a friend yesterday. you may have already read it...i know these things circle the globe quite speedily, but i just love it.

and as i've said before
"if dogs don't go to heaven, then i want to go where they go."

EMAIL
Our 14 year old dog, Abbey, died last month. The day after she died, my 4 year old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. She dictated and I wrote:

Dear God,
Will you please take special care of our dog, Abbey? She died yesterday and is in heaven. We miss her very much. We are happy that you let us have her as our dog even though she got sick. I hope that you will play with her. She liked to play with balls and swim before she got sick. I am sending some pictures of her so that when you see her in heaven you will know she is our special dog. But I really do miss her

Love,Meredith Claire
P S: Mommy wrote the words after Meredith told them to her.
We put that in an envelope with two pictures of Abbey, and addressed it to God in Heaven. We put our return address on it. Then Meredith stuck some stamps on the front (because, as she said, it may take lots of stamps to get a letter all the way to heaven) and that afternoon I let her drop it into the letter box at the post office. For a few days, she would ask if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had.
Yesterday there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch. Curious, I went to look at it. It had a gold star card on the front and said "To Meredith" in an unfamiliar hand.

Meredith took it in and opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers,
"When a Pet Dies" Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God, in its opened envelope (which was marked Return to Sender: Insufficient address) On the opposite page, one of the pictures of Abbey was taped under the words "For Meredith" We turned to the back cover, and there was the other picture of Abbey, and this handwritten note on pink paper:
Dear Meredith,
I know that you will be happy to know that Abbey arrived safely and soundly in Heaven! Having the pictures you sent to me was such a big help. I recognized Abbey right away.
You know, Meredith, she isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me--just like she stays in your heart--young and running and playing. Abbey loved being your dog, you know.
Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets!-- so I can't keep your beautiful letter. I am sending it to you with the pictures so that you will have this book to keep and remember Abbey.
One of my angels is taking care of this for me. I hope the little book helps. Thank you for the beautiful letter. Thank your mother for sending it. What a wonderful mother you have! I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I am in heaven but wherever there is love, I am there also.

Love,
God and the special angel who wrote this after God told her the words."

As a parent and a pet lover, this is one of the kindest things that I've ever experienced. I have no way to know who sent it, but there is some very kind soul working in the dead letter office. Just wanted to share this act of compassion
_____________________
THERE ARE WONDERFUL CARING PEOPLE IN EVERY LINE OF WORK.

you may want to go read another blog now, cause, wouldn't you know it, i wrote a poem about Mr. Bruce.

THE TALENTED MR. BRUCE


He could bound straight up,
Four feet in the air, ten times in succession.
He could croon along with any song,
A canine Caruso.

He could demolish a pillow
In ten minutes flat.
He knew a bed, not the floor,
Was for sleeping.

He could see ghosts
From the hallway door.

He’d rather mouth a hand than be petted.
I never left a room that he didn’t follow,
Nuzzling my fingers.

He’d crawl up my lap, stare in my eyes,
To beg a bite of food,
Or just steal it right off the plate,
Then run like hell.

He’d race through the house
With a toy in his mouth
To entice us to romp.

One soft, pale hair is sometimes seen still
And moves me to tears.
He filled my dreary days with life and joy.

He died as he lived,
Running full out.
geni 2000