2020 … Wasn’t that a year!

Dear Eddie…

As for here… 2020 was supposed to be a fabulous year. I had been studying Italian for years and had a solo two-month trip planned to Italy, including a gorgeous studio apartment in Florence for a month. I was taking a couple of European history classes at UVIC last fall and winter. The plan was I was going to fly to Rome on April 6. Everything was arranged and paid for, including Easter Monday breakfast with the Pope (lol) and my annual pass to the Uffici in Florence. My bag was packed. I was still hoping and wishing all would be well at the end of March. Then KLM canceled my flight and AirB&B canceled my studio. I’m still grieving that loss. Unfortunately, the year from hell didn’t end there.

Long story … probably not short. Days after viewing the solar eclipse in totality, in Lincoln City, Oregon, in August 2017, I started experiencing a sound and vibration thing, occasionally. I thought it was the laundry room beneath us in the hotel, then it was the neighbour’s hot tub, then it was the new heat pump system installed in the church on the hill behind our house. Then maybe it was the city’s water main, or maybe BCHydro had something to do with it. I experienced it in our house and in our yard and on the driveway. It was weird but it was still sporadic until September of 2019. It had been off for a couple of days, in fact, I had told Eileen that it had sounded sick before it went off. Then, on September 9th, it came back on with a vengeance. So much so that I had run out of my house because I thought the house was going to fall down. Weird, eh? The real problem was when this thing ramped up I would get nauseous, dizzy, and walk into walls.

By this time I was heavily into my trip planning and studying at UVIC. So, I spent most of my time in the library and finding excuses to stay at friend’s houses. My GP had never heard of such a thing, but she was going to get me some psychiatric help. I had a cat scan on January 3rd. My brain is totally fine, even quite exceptional, said the neurologist. Anyways, I was ready to try anything and if it was in my head then “let’s get it out of there.” I started an anti-psychotic and started seeing a very nice doctor. Of course, nothing changed. By now we had decided to sell our house and I had moved into an apartment in Langford, still part of Greater Victoria, but what we call the Westshore. So, I’m prepping for Italy, prepping to sell the house, going to school every day of the week, and living on my own. Eileen wasn’t going to move to the apartment until the house was on the market sometime mid February. Then I was told I had breast cancer. Sheesh.

So instead of going to Italy on the 6th of April, on the 8th, I was in a deserted hospital (because now it was a total lockdown and only “emergency” surgeries were happening) having surgery. The surgery wasn’t so bad, they only took a part of my right breast. But a few days later I got the news that the margins were not clear and I would need more treatment. Normally, it would be radiation, but I have something called Ehler’s Danlos Syndrome and the radiation would not only fry my skin but likely fry my lungs. So that treatment was ruled out. I was told that if I did nothing I would have a 30% chance of recurrence in the next 10 years. Honestly, I was good with those odds, but no one else was. They wanted to take the whole breast. They could do reconstruction they said! I had less than 6 months to figure it out. Well, Eddie, the fakest thing I’ve ever done is wear some lipstick and mascara, I just didn’t see myself with foobs (fake boobs) and even worse I didn’t see myself with just one boob. If they wanted one they needed to take both. That was a struggle against the patriarchy, which I eventually won.

By the time May had ended, we had sold our house (and downsized all our stuff) and now we were living in a small apartment. By the time June came around, we had purchased a much more spacious and brand new condo. So, basically, we moved twice last spring.

My surgery was on September 8. Eileen, a senior school science teacher, had been working from home since the original lockdown in March, now schools were open but she took six weeks off to look after me. The “disturbance” was far more subtle here. I was talking with a very nice psychiatrist from the cancer society. I came off the anti-psychotics as they were doing nothing and he suggested an anti-depressant. There was CBD work, more counseling, lots of talking, but the sound and the vibration remain.

I didn’t feel so great for a few weeks after the surgery. I barely got out of bed as there wasn’t any place to go. I quickly became addicted to the news, to CNN and MSNBC, to the entire election story…. except for when Trump was saying anything, then I had to switch channels or close my eyes. Egads, what a mess. So… besides keeping an eye on our neighbours to the south, who mostly seemed to want to give up their democracy and install Trump as King/Dictator, I was healing and not doing too much.

But it isn’t over yet. On the night of November 3rd I was all ready to watch the election results when I had some horrendous pain when I tried to breathe. I seriously couldn’t breathe. Eileen called 911 and within minutes the fire department and two teams of paramedics were standing in our condo … all dressed like covid-19 aliens. They started giving me oxygen and I started to feel better. Then they gave me fentanyl and packed me up for a trip to the hospital. I spent 24 hours in emerg, then three days in a ward. Cause: I had a shower of blood clots in both lungs. IOW, had it not been for 911 and the speed for which I was given oxygen, I likely would not have been here to write this story.

I’m still recovering, and on blood thinners for another 3 months, but it gets better every day. They said the pulmonary embolism was provoked by the surgery in September, so chances are good I’ll be fine. But there will be more tests, yada yada.

Oh ya, the pandemic. All I really want to do I go hang out in Starbucks, or go back to the library at UVIC.

So that was my 2020. As I said, the plan was to have a fabulous 2020. Best laid plans…. Now I just look for a little fabulous in each day, twinkly lights, yummy food, a walk, an exercise class, sunshine, hummingbirds. We had 30cm of snow here on the weekend. It was so pretty and so rare. Now it’s just about all melted and soon the spring flowers will start to pop.

I’m still involved in web stuff. https://cozyhost.ca My social life revolves around a group of awesome engineers and others who like to fiddle with raspberry pi and different controllers, networking and coding. We used to meet in person at least four times a month, now we meet using jitsi or zoom and have a social thing via jitsi on Friday nights. https://vicpimakers.ca

Eileen retires this year. She was going to retire last year, but when the pandemic and cancer and moving happened, we decided maybe one more year working wouldn’t be the worst thing. Last spring everything seemed so strange that sticking with the status quo looked good. Anyways, June will be the end of it, at least at SMUS, and we will be free to travel… when we can travel. The plan is a trip to Yellowknife then Kugluktuk, Nunavut. We also want to take the ferry from Prince Rupert to Skagway then rent a car and drive to Whitehorse. That will complete our Canadian geocaching challenge. Then a trip through the southern states. We geocached 30 states in 2014, but Mingo Kansas was the furthest south we got. Finally, a trip to Hawaii will complete the USA challenge. I had some European geocaching in mind…. oh well.

Do take care of yourself and those loved ones, Eddie. Stay tuned.

Throwback Thursday

I found this image today in a box I hadn’t looked into since before the move before last. Almost 12 years ago I packed up this box full of art supplies I rarely used. Today, while trying to decrease the amount of stuff in my life I found this image. Mom and I in March 2004. Miss her.

Mom and Cody


Wow! 2020 already. Time flies, fast, really fast. When I was 15 my imagination was convinced that by 2020 I would be in a fabulous retirement home… out amid the rings of Saturn. And we haven’t even been back to the Moon! Perhaps too much greed and too much poverty and too little adventuring has our humanity stuck in a rut.

I’m going to Italy this year. No more wishing and hoping because now the flight and hotels are booked and not only am I counting sleeps …. I leave in less than 2,000 hours.

In Memory

Joesph William Cousineau
17 November, 1955 – 17 February , 2019

I am very shocked and very sad to share this news of the sudden death, by fire, of my old friend and lover, Joe Cousineau. He was born in Tofino, BC and he died on February 17, in his cabin near Tofino, BC. Joe was a one of a kind human who lived life according to his own songs. Not many understood Joe, but many would find the warmth in his heart and the stories in his head, just as I did.

He sailed the seas of Barkley Sound, Clayoquot Sound, Nootka Sound and all the way to Haida Gwaii. He was the best boatman, ie: I always felt safe, as much as one can on those challenging seas. Indeed, he was born with sea legs and it was Joe’s love of the sea which encouraged me to get my own sailing Skippers ticket.

I have so many amazing memories of our time together in the Pinkerton Islands of Barkley Sound, on the float house he built. There was one trip, we had been floating and stormbound in the back of Barkley Sound for weeks, in a cold and dark February. One day the sea seemed calmed enough, at least from our perspective, to head to town. So the tugboat Moe was fired up and we cast off.

However, on the other side of Hand Island, the sea was not so calm and even though it was my suggestion, there was no turning back. The swells were approaching from every direction. It seemed to me that the entire Pacific Ocean was piling and roiling on that shallow rock beneath us, as we headed past Beg Island and into Ucluelet Harbor.

Those swells, the thumps of them ending in green water cascading over the wheelhouse, on that stunning midwinter day. I was trying not to get too scared-sick while being awed by the beauty of it all.

And Joe, he was singing.

I don’t ever remember Joe being a singer, but on that day he was belting out every Christmas carol he could remember. About halfway across the passage, we noticed the hawser, a tow rope, had fallen off the stern and was going to sink, then wrap itself around the prop. Joe was finessing that wheel, and singing those songs, and by osmosis was encouraging me to hang on with my eyelashes, and wrangle that wayward hawser back onto the deck. What team work!

Oh memorable moments, one loves those which can be told over and over for decades.

When on the water, Joe would always get the destination. He was the one who was the most adept with those swells and those rocks and that fog and that rain. I would have gone anywhere with him, as long as it was on water.

And who could forget the time, at the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival, where Joe and I were the invited partiers onto a big and beautiful multi-story converted tugboat. Just before docking, we learned the engine had now gone haywire and we were about to ram into the event jetty not 100 meters away. When all else fails, the skipper let Joe have at the engine and, of course, Joe stopped that ship. It was a moment that saved not just a gorgeous ship, but likely the lives of those onboard and on the docks.

Image: He was at the wheel of the Moe, doing what Joe did best and what Joe loved to do. He was an ocean swell whisperer. Where Joe went, the swells, that would scare-sick anyone else, would lie flat for his passing. He was one awesome boatman.

I would have more pictures, except a few days after we met, Joe left my camera on the beach at 52 Steps. The tide came in and the tide went out. He found the camera, about 300 meters from where he had left it. It was a day’s search, and it was that day I fell for the guy, and damn the camera.

Although it has been a decade since I last saw Joe, and more than two decades since we hung out together, He will always have a special place in my heart and mind. If I thought he could hear me, my last words for him … “Go gentle on yourself, Joe.”

Thank you Eydee and Anamarjia for seeking me out at this sad time. I know he loved you very much and to have him gone now is a big hurt. Big hugs all round.

Obituary : by Anamarjia

Media: hashilthsa

#JoeCousineau #vancouverisland #tofino #ucluelet #clayoquot #barkleysound #WoodenBoatFestival

Maya Plisetskaya Dances Ballet Documentary 1964

In 1964, two years after I danced with the Bolshoi and danced on stage with Maya Plisetskaya, this 1 hr 12 min documentary was made. Though today the ballet style looks almost ancient, in the day she was groundbreakingly awesome. I had a thing about her broken wrist lines, but what do I know? 😉

Maya was born on November 20, 1925. She died at age 89 on May 2, 2015. 

Duolingo – 1200 Streak Days

Might you think I'm obsessed?  What's really going on is the number 1234. 😉  

What started me on Duolingo was an attempt to learn more about music theory, which of course led to a geocache.  Then Samantha Cristoforetti flew to space.  Then a dream of a trip to Italy, on hold for now,  and a love of learning something new,  keeps growing those days, months and years of some  10 - 300 xps per day.   Here's to 1200!!

1200 day duolingo streak
1200 day duolingo streak

Favourite Quotes

Polar Bears at the Toronto Zoo
Polar Bears at the Toronto Zoo

* We want to see if life is ubiquitous. – Dan Goldin

*I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat. – Rebbeca West

*Religious freedom doesn’t grant us the freedom to deny our fellow Americans their constitutional rights. – Barack Obama

*Religion, n. A daughter of Hope and Fear, explaining to Ignorance
the nature of the Unknowable.  — Ambrose Bierce, The Devil’s Dictionary

*Ever since I’ve been part of the feminist movement people have been predicting its imminent death, as though women (feminists) had contracted some ferocious virus. – Doris Anderson

*Make it so. – Gene Roddenberry

*It is all a matter of time scale. – Carl Sagan

*The most remarkable people, to me, were those who apparently approved of everything I said but nonetheless wouldn’t dream of voting for the Liberal Party. It reminded me of Somalia: they wouldn’t vote outside their clan. — Ayaan Hirsi Ali

“We make our world significant by the courage of our questions and by the depth of our answers.” — Carl Sagan

*Other things being equal, it is better to be smart than to be stupid. — Carl Sagan

*The world has never yet seen a truly great and virtuous nation, because in the degradation of woman the very fountains of life are poisoned at their source. — Lucretia Mott (1793-1880) speaking at the first Women’s Rights Convention, 1848

*For you and I belong to a species with a remarkable ability: we can shape events in each other’s brains with exquisite precision. I am not referring to telepathy or mind control or the other obsessions of fringe science; even in the depictions of believers, these are blunt instruments compared to an ability that is uncontroversially present in every one of us. That ability is language. — Steven Pinker.

“Things I once thought were funny are scary now. I often feel like a resident of Pompeii who has been asked for some humorous comments on lava.” Tom Lehrer. People Mag, 1982

“You can move it about but it’s still there!” — Robert Annet

“If this capsule history of our progress teaches us anything, it is that man, in his quest for knowledge and progress, is determined and cannot be deterred. The exploration of space will go ahead, whether we join in it or not, and it is one of the great adventures of all time, and no nation which expects to be the leader of other nations can expect to stay behind in the race for space.” ~JFK

“The journey of a thousand miles starts from beneath your feet.” — Lao Tzu

“So long as we remember, the crew lives; so long as the crew lives, our future is secure for only when our heroes are forgotten and the light of their sacrifices goes out, will the new Dark Age fall.” — Thorpe on Apollo 1.

“There is a rumor going around that I have found God. I think this is unlikely because I have enough difficulty finding my keys, and there is empirical evidence that they exist.” –Terry Pratchett

“Life is the art of drawing sufficient conclusions from insufficient premises.” — Samuel Butler

“Lunar impact rate: On average, 33 metric tons (73,000 lbs) of meteoroids hit Earth every day, the vast majority of which harmlessly ablates (“burns up”) high in the atmosphere, never making it to the ground. The moon, however, has little or no atmosphere, so meteoroids have nothing to stop them from striking the surface. The slowest of these rocks travels at 20 km/sec (45,000 mph); the fastest travels at over 72 km/sec (160,000 mph). At such speeds even a small meteoroid has incredible energy — one with a mass of only 5 kg (10 lbs) can excavate a crater over 9 meters (30 ft) across, hurling 75 metric tons (165,000 lbs) of lunar soil and rock on ballistic trajectories above the lunar surface.”http://www.nasa.gov/centers/marshall/news/lunar/program_overview.html#link4


Stellalabella - Find It!
Stellalabella – Find It!

Team Stellalabella begins August 2010

Our first FTF A Fine Day for Caching
Our second FTF Hollyhock Lane
Our third FTF Playpark Surprise

Found in 2010 : 250
Found 2011 : 1323

Update: When School Started in September 2012 another game was a foot.  It was cancer, but Eileen’s leg was saved and six years later, it’s still good. 

In 2014 we completed a geocaching roadtrip with Let’s Eat Chocolate when 544 caches, in 10 provinces and 30 states, provided the smilies. In the following years, we cached and we slumped, but The Planetary Pursuit Challenge, in March of 2018, brought us back as semi regular into the game of geocaching.  We still love to cache and we love our caching buddies.

Update: Our geopup, Stella la Bella di Seantiago, died in our arms peacefully on August 17, 2018.  She will track in our hearts forever.  https://stellalabella.com

Let’s make a plan and let’s go find some.

Our Stats at Oct 15, 2018:


Language and Maps


Tech Notes

The Systems

Home and Garden

These are the html pages from my past … 
SpaceGene’s Links
Rocks in Space
Eugene Shoemaker

This Day in AstroHistory

Friends of NASA TV in Canada
TimeLine Earth
Earth Craters




  • Evidence Some thoughts on where we came from, where we are going, and why everyone needs a big hug.
  • Looking Back At Earth – The best bit of data to plug into our philosophy is the view of the Earth from anywhere in Space.
  • Radio – My Study Notes for the Canadian Basic Exam.
  • Blog
  • Dog – Stellalabella … Raising a Havanese Puppy.
  • Geocaching
  • Posters


A few posters…

Over the years I created posters, buttons, and magnets ... here is a gallery of many.


It was 1986 when I got *my* first computer. Before that I was playing around with other’s Commodores and Tandys. My first lovely was a 8086 XT, with a 30MB hard drive and an amber monitor. I purchased it at Columbia Typerwriter, and office machines company in Victoria, BC. Half of the more than $3,000 price tag was a big birthday present from Mom. I used software called First Choice and studied computer science at North Island College. Once I moved to Victoria, in 1991, I setup my first DOS based BBS with Spitfire software, from Buffalo Creek Software. This software is still available!! However, the modem world would soon change my life and I was hooked. In 1993 I bought both a 386 and a 486 computer systems. The 386 was configured with PC Board Software and Robocomm, and four 14,000 dial-up modems with four phone lines running into my bedroom. The 486 was for my own use. 😉 A few years later I sold the XT for $75.00.

Bob MacGregor – Favourite Uncle Dies

It’s been annus horribulus.  My favourite uncle, Bob MacGregor, died and I’m heartbroken.  I will always remember him as the most generous, most fun and most caring person.  His death shocked our family and we will miss him terribly.

This picture was taken during our visit to Toronto in July 2007.  We spent three days with Uncle Bob.  He was amazing.

Read more – CBC Obit

Continue reading “Bob MacGregor – Favourite Uncle Dies”

Aline Gregory Wainwright – My Mother – Obituary

Aline Margaret Gregory Wainwright (nee MacGregor)WAINWRIGHT, Aline Gregory (nee MacGregor)
Born September 3, 1930 – Died April 9, 2008
Aline left us peacefully, at Hospice Niagara after a lengthy struggle with cancer.

Well remembered for her dedicated work as an active feminist, she was  a co-founder of the National Action Committee on the Status of Women  in Canada.  She was a member of Women for Political Action and in the  1972 federal election was a candidate in Rosedale Riding in Toronto.   In 1975 she played a prominent role in organizing the first World’s  International Women’s Year Conference held in Mexico City, and in 1977, was awarded the Queen’s Silver Jubilee Medal.

Born in Toronto in 1930, Aline is predeceased by parents Alexander and Catherine MacGregor, by sister Catherine (Kitty) Mann, and by brothers  John and Howard MacGregor.  She is survived by husband John  Wainwright, by brother Robert (Bob) MacGregor of Toronto, by daughters Catherin (Cody) Gregory of Victoria, B.C. and Deanne (Dedee) Gregory of  Burnaby, B.C., by step-children John Wainwright of Edmonton, Deborah   Jarvis of Grimsby and Jane Wainwright of Grimsby, and by grandson  Garnet Clare of Whistler, B.C. 

She will be deeply missed by family  and friends.

An announcement will be forthcoming about an open house to celebrate Aline’s life at the St. Catharines Golf and Country Club,  70 Westchester Avenue, St. Catharines, Ontario.
In lieu of flowers, donations to the Canadian Cancer Society or Hospice Niagara would be gratefully appreciated.

See her story here. 

All of us like to be proven RIGHT

My 2$
Er, not exactly.  Many warm, dry, well fed and well loved humans enjoy the exploration of ideas. If one answer inevitably leads to another question, and therefore more exploration, then all is good. Daily exploration practice builds the process of relationships without bringing negativity into the circle.

Evidence of pain … it’s very subjective, sometimes all the positive energy on the planet isn’t enough to stop the tears.  My subjective observation of our community sees a tad lack of positive energy on several levels.  Healing in this environment isn’t going to be easy.

OMG! It’s a negative thought and then our ego takes it personally, and *then* … we want to be right and some begin to gather the troops….

Generally, men seem to not take exploration of “it’s only an idea” so personally. imho, (in my humble observation) our community tends to practice some kind of strange communication about ideas, about exploration. It may be some way of isolating any diversity?  We don’t tolerate it well?  What’s up with that?

Could needing to be right, a psuedo-comfort, be an analogy to sticking your head in the mud?

Blog On!

Celia Franca Dies

Celia Franca
Celia Franca

Celia Franca was the founder of The National Ballet of Canada in 1951 and its Artistic Director for 24 years. I first met Celia Franca in the early 60’s. I had been chosen among my classmates at the National Ballet School to perform in the new production of the Nutcracker Suite.  She was an amazing woman, totally in control of everything.  Yes, I feared her.  I’ll never forget the Saturday morning I walked into rehearsal after spending a night in the hospital due to having burned my hand on an old school stove the day before. We had been making Christmas candles.  So there I was, at rehearsal, with a bandage on my hand that looked more like a boxing glove than anything else.  Ms Franca was horrified, but rather than call in an understudy, and leave me in the wings, she called in the costume mistress who materialized gloves, to be worn by all the girl children for the schedule of performances.  She was feared, but she was so compassionate too.

” In 1967 Miss Franca was invested as an Officer of the Order of Canada and in 1985 was made a Companion of the Order of Canada. In 1987 she received the St. George’s Society of Toronto Award and that same year was among the first to be honoured with the Order of Ontario. She served as a member of the board of governors of York University, the board of directors of the Canada Council and the Board of Directors of the Canada Dance Festival Society.”

Ver 2

Raven Nuke 76
Raven Nuke 76

The sun is shining, the days are longer, 2007 is a turn it around year.
lol … as if moving through space wasn’t already happening.

New CoreWare for codyg.ca!


RavenNuke so rocks the cms planet.


The sun is shining again, and the garden needs work…

My Secular History

Originally drafted in June 2001.

Some history …


The first person to tell me there were no gods was my maternal grandmother, my Nana.  She was a towering Scot, full of love and stories, yet she would not be fooled by anyone.  She convinced me that logic and evidence was a far superior way of knowing about the world than was doctrine or revelation. Sadly, she was gone before I understood why she insisted upon a scientific method of viewing the world. And she warned me, “You will be old dust long before religion ever lessens its grip on human culture.” Years later Desmond Tutu said the same thing.

In stunning contrast was my paternal grandmother, Gertrude.  Obedient to her Husband, her Pope and her God, she attended mass every day of her life and her stories were full of angels and devils and God’s will. Hell breathed into her warm kitchen every day, and heaven beckoned every night.

Nana would have none of that. The families ripped apart and the old Scot instilled in me a deep skepticism for any claim not based on observation, reason, and peer agreement.

Long before Darwinian theory, humans must have reasoned that humans were so special that divine creation was the only explanation that fit the observation.  After Darwin, some communities gave up hoping and wishing for divine intervention, but most didn’t. I observed that in my community, believing was likely to get you further ahead than not believing.

I started to look for some scrap of evidence upon which to base what seemed to be the required faith. Without it I continued to have sweaty palms each time I attended any church, trying to fit in, my nervousness manifested by the silliness of worshipping the unknowable, the myth.

Is the civilization in which I live becoming ever more secular? I’d like to think so, but looking for Gods, with no bounds to the fuzzy thinking humans can manifest, seems all the rage today, daily public appeals to any one of any number of Godlikethingies; hoping and wishing something good would happen. Like some opaque overlay, faith in God is a background color in the community. Faith in a shared God is obviously required at the top levels of society. I remained to grub around at the bottom, separate, not quite equal, but always looking for some evidence.

I grew older, gave up on the wishing and hoping, and became ever more fascinated with the real nature of the cosmos in which we lived. I found others who didn’t buy into the God fantasy either.  An unbeliever finding another unbeliever is a slippery slope of social faux pas in most places, including some of the internet. In her day, I can only hope my Nana was not totally alone with her unbelief. Perhaps she read much, maybe she was learning from science then, like I am now, despite her poverty and lack of an internet.

So, when one day in 1994 I found myself anthropomorphizing some purpose in evolution; “Look Ma, we walked on the Moon; we watched SL-9! ” Well, indeed humans were special, so special cause they could affect their environment on a cosmic scale, and nothing I knew about evolution could explain *that* observation. It was either back to church or back to the books.

After sweating palms on Sundays for a month or two, I unboxed the geology books and began my internet search for some hypothesis of my observation. Did we know that humans are hard-wired for space exploration? Was there a spacegene? (What was that 2 percent difference between cousin primate and Homosapien anyway?)

Being the one who doesn’t want to ask the stupid question, but at times open mouth and echo internationally, I sent a message off to an “ask a scientist site” at NASA. His reply doubted 300,000 years of evolution had anything to do with more than 4.5 billion years of cosmic debris fields in Earth neighborhood. He then speculated that I likely had a creative streak and a good science teacher. LOL

Then I learned about genetic algorithms. A machine analogy to how systems can become more complex. After reading more Sagan, Gould again, and some other resources it seemed clear enough to state that my very own genes carry our ancestor’s knowledge of icy plateaus and sabretooth tigers and rocks that fall from the sky.

Then it was September 11, 2001.

Some events will bring us back to the mud at our feet.  For many, 911 was one of those events.   Unfortunately, in 2007, the struggle to find more peace and happiness is mired in death in the name of the invisible, done by hawkish fundamentalists of many colors.  The woo is ubiquitous, the minority of reason is drowned in the noise of control.

Personally, I began to get comfy with myself for the first time in my life, there wasn’t the time for ignoring the part of me who lived in a closet…. one where darkness equaled loneliness. It was a world in which the thought of the word lesbian was taboo in my own head. My new world order would hear the word lesbian come out of my mouth and flow from my pen.

Then I learned php/mysql … another language, another journey.  A path Nana would approve.

And here we are today.  Stay tuned… it’s bound to get even more interesting.

— tbc —