P Dos

Above -Dad and Pat Bullock the 2nd at Marty and Bill's home in Estes Park

I think Amy got it right. The bird is P2. It's becoming obvious that the bird has a bone to pick with me. And I have very mixed feelings about the woman.

She was my father's second wife. Patricia Louise Temple Ziesen (sp) Taylor Bullock. Or Pat2 or P2 as we "step" daughters called her.

Dad actually met Pat before he met our mother. She would visit her Atlantic grandparents from her home in Omaha (she was a Benson Bunny). So Dad was a teen when he first met her. Then, when he attended Kemper Military School (he didn't buckle down in high school and back then, finishing high school in military school was the thing to do) in Boonville, MO, Pat attended some nearby school and they went to a dance together.

But they had long ago lost track of each other. Until 1998, in the months following our mother's July 1997 lung cancer death. It was a grueling year after mom's diagnosis, and dad got to suffer through it all. I've complained about their relationship - the fighting through the years. But under it all, I pretend to myself that they still truly loved each other. So watching mom suffer took its toll on Dad.

After she passed away, and all of us went home post funeral, we all tried to talk to him frequently. He was still in Atlantic until fall. Mom had always been the communicator - but in the end stages of her illness he took over. When I would say goodbye after a phone conversation, he would always cry. It was torture! He was such a social guy, and was so very lonely.

That fall, Susi flew in, and she and I drove Mr. Davey to his Marco Island winter home. He actually drove most of it, be we were along for company. (While he had many little medical conditions, a bad prostate was never one and potty stops were infrequent - though he didn't torture us with the "bump the peg" game of our youth). He cried when it was time for Susi and I to leave, and both of us were nervous to see that he was scoping out the "singles" pages in the local paper. Yikes - look out for skanky women just after his $$!

His loneliness continued that winter, though his Marco friends did their best to keep him busy. He wanted a companion to do things with! Imagine our surprise the next time our fam visited Marco - I think it was Christmas, he was happily chatting on the phone frequently to someone! (I was worried as he'd become a HSN addict purchasing things like mops - 2 very special ones. Like he'd ever mopped in his life!).

It came out that he'd reconnected with his friend of old Pat Temple now Taylor, after seeing her mother's obituary in the Atlantic paper and sweet talked the funeral home folks into her contact information. She was widowed (divorced from the abusive Ziesan guy who was the father of her 3 children Cindy, Linn and Steve - all around our ages) from Emmet Taylor in Denver, where she lived - in Lakewood. Dad fell hook line and sinker before even seeing her again!

All of us daughters noticed that twinkle was back in his eye, in his voice! We began to email back and forth fast and furious - and quickly came up with the Pat2 nickname. P2 seemed to have a variety of illnesses - gallbladder I think that spring, but eventually she and dad got together and that was all she wrote. He couldn't get her to the altar fast enough. She was enamored by him as well.

Us...not so much. She never really took to us or our kids - though she seemed to go through the motions just for him. Hell she had 2 of her own grand kids in Albuquerque that she hardly knew (Linn's kids). Her daughter Cindy, who we never met had MS and that whole deal was strange as they seemed to be estranged. Linn, a nurse, was married with the kids, and Steve was a slovenly jovial guy who worked sometimes. (The Bullock girls definitely had more going for us them the "other" kids...)

But P2 made Dad extremely happy. In fact it was a little disturbing to see him so gaga over someone who was not my mother. Before long, the two lovebirds were planning to be married! And plans were set for a ceremony at my Aunt Marty's in Estes Park with a party for Dad's 70th bday in Denver to follow. They kept her condo in Lakewood, and his two - in Atlantic (she totally redid it - it did need updating, but did she have to give us all back ALL of our family photos from the wall?) and Marco. Okay his did need updating, but her taste was pretty blah...

Dad and Pat2 married in 1998, and lived together through his by-pass surgery and her various illnesses until lung cancer finally took her life in 2002. The end of her life was very ugly between the Bullock's and Pat's children, none-the-less she's buried beside Dad in the Atlantic Cemetery.

So no wonder yesterday a.m. as I stood in the kitchen trying to get the wheels spinning in my brain for the day's activities (Juddy's bday), and take my daily meds, the cardinal (Pdos incarnate) smacked into the window startling me. Biatch!

The bday boy

We're just back from taking the bday boy out for a late lunch at Hickory Park in Ames. We picked him up outside his apartment - he claimed to still be under the effects of alcohol from the night before. He did reek of the stuff!

So I had to rush off last night right when I got to the good part of my blog - the birth. What rush of emotions when Jud was born. Relief - the tremendous cramps were over (though that uterine massage is torture!), joy - he was healthy and shock - a boy!?!

There was never much discussion about what his name would be. Even after we'd picked out Andrew for Amy if she had been a boy, I didn't consider that name this time. And if he'd been a girl, he would have been Claire. I still love that name. I've told the story before about how my dog growing up was named after my dad's middle name. Jud or Judson for long. David after dad. George Judson Stewart, my Grandma Zora's grandfather and Adnah David Bullock my grandpa's grandfather.

Paul was good enough to go along with it. And...as a bonus today Jud said he'd done the whole FaceBook deal where you get a grade for your parents for how original they were in naming you. We got an A+ for Jud (and I think a D- for Amy).

We were overjoyed to have a new fam member. When we phoned Amy to tell her, she mentioned that she'd planned on a sister - but she quickly came around. When she came out to the hospital to visit that day (had Jud on Monday, didn't go home until Thursday), she somehow yanked the chain in the potty, causing the nurses to come running. Oops! And she quickly learned that the baby wasn't much fun - at least to start with.

We love our Juddy David, and are very proud of the young man he's become. (Even if he did reek at lunchtime...)

My lil buddy

Tomorrow is the day 'o birth (pirate language from Facebook) of my little buddy Judson David. I like to call him that, because he's nearly 6 foot 2 inches, dwarfing the rest of us. He wasn't quite so big some 21 years ago.

Paul and I went through an abbreviated version of Lamaze - I think at the college or the hospital, before Jud was born. I remembered watching a video at home on giving birth, that totally brought the experience back to me from Amy. Not in a good way! Scary. Amy was ready to be a big sis.

Sandy Hysell at work was preggers too. (Those were the FNB years) She was due a day or so after me - my due date was January 27, 1989. Of course after my Amy experience I wasn't much spectin' to pop that baby out any time early. I wasn't nearly as miserable during the last weeks of that pregnancy.

Again, Pablo and I didn't know what sex the baby was. My womanly intuition was saying girl as I felt pretty similar to my first pregnancy. I had a video of the ultrasound - and did scrutinize it pretty good to no avail. I was lucky to find the heart let alone any other body parts.

So after a long weekend, imagine my surprise - when I rolled over I felt a pop, and a warm trickle. My water had broken. I called the doc's office quickly along with Pablo who was already at work, and he rushed right home. We dropped Amy off at the sitters, with an overnight bag. Bobbie and Jeff were picking her up to stay the night.

When we got to the doc's office (it was Dr. Mark Young, who, coincidentally was the husband of a gal who lived on my dorm floor at ISU) they confirmed that yes, my water broke. I was having a baby that day. The Doc sent me to the hospital.

On the way into the hospital, we passed a very sad group of people heading the other way - out of the hospital. We found out later that their 12 year old daughter Callie Spainhower, had been killed that morning in a tragic traffic accident. I've always thought of that moment as one that was very telling in my life - our coming joy of birth versus the death of a child. I'll never forget the grief on their faces.

Dr. Young was mr natural. He wanted me to go into labor on my own and was willing to wait. I was supposed to walk around and stimulate my nipples. Nothing was happening when he checked on me at lunch time. When he got off work later that afternoon, he finally gave me the pitocin - which kicked things off.

Labor drug out all evening - Paul was in the nursery listening to the Hawks hoops. I had to through a washcloth at him at one point - the pain settling in. Finally, after 11 PM it was time to have the kid. The hospital had a birthing chair back then - which seemed to work great compared to my experience (with forceps) with Amy.

This time I got the urge to push. And after a few pushes that baby pertinear shot out of me. And it was a boy! The first in my fam since my Dad. And we had decided to name him after my dad (and doggy bro). He looked just like Amy had at birth, 'cept for a certain appendage. We were thrilled.

Of course we called Amy in the a.m. to report the news, and she was less than pleased as she'd put her order in for a sister...

Hope Jud enjoys his big Jud-A-palooza partay tonight, and doesn't drink 21 shots! Stay safe little buddy. Love ya.

Always there for me

I just finished listening to this book on CD. I read it a few years ago, and enjoyed hearing it read to me by an excellent reader. I love Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child books. Today I finished Preston's newest book. Funny, my sis Cindy loves these books as well. I have discovered all my sissies and I love many of the same authors.

My mother helped me gain my love for reading. She always had book nearby, and visited the library (or, as Cindo says she pronounced it - libary) often - taking me along. As children we were surrounded by beloved books - and as I blogged before, she bought us OZ books for special gifts.

So all through my life, books have been there for me. Through thick and thin! When I was a child, and got bored - I could read and re-read the books we had in the house. And then, when my parents began to be the Bickersons (that's what Cindo called them when they argued), I could retire to my room with a book - and lose track of time and the scary reality of them fighting.

In fact, even today I get a little panicky if I don't have a book around - and one to read after I'm done with that one. I take my book to work each day to read at lunch. That way when I don't even leave my cubicle, I get away! (I have a backup book, one I own in my file cabinet in case I forget my current book.) I read my current book at night too, in bed. Reading fictions relaxes me.

When I go to Jason's Deli, during my lonely weeknights in DM, I take my book in to read while I wait for my food and while I eat. I might not have any friends to eat with, but my book keeps me company.

Books - thanks for always being there for me. And thanks for paving my way to meet other book lovers like the Book Chicks!

Getting back on the horse

This is not the purse I found on sale, but it's the right brand!

If at first you don't succeed...when you get bucked off the horse, you need to get right back on again...anything worth doing is worth doing well. There are lots of sayings that work here.

The whole shopping thing. I tried again tonight, and it went better. I tried my ass off! I went to Valley West - really my fave in DM. Oh, yes I am seduced a bit by Jordan Creek, the fancy new mall. But when I wish to get down to biz, I head for Valley West.

In order to get into the proper frame of mind, I entered through Calypso, the quirky fun store that contains antiques to funny stuff. I like looking around there and the people who work there are nice. They didn't let me down this time either - as I was greeted by a couple people who didn't sound like they were just following the "you must greet each shopper" rule.

Then I headed to Von Mauer - the ritzy store. I perused the men's sweaters - yikes one I liked was $125. No thanks. I got to thinking about purses - my present purse (Fossil, anniversary gift from my beloved Pool Boy - yes I bought it myself) is a winter leather. So I'll be needing a summer model soon, right? Wow the store had a Dooney and Bourke on sale at $62! I liked it. My enthusiasm soared! Yet a clear head prevailed. Younkers too carries purses I told myself.

So I strolled through the mall - noticing that a couple stores closed. Sports/shoes. I slipped through Eddie Bauer's. Good prices, but nothing calling out to me. On I went, stopping in the CD Warehouse to see if they might have a Lion King soundtrack (the play not the Disney movie). Nope.

The stores are beginning to set out spring clothes - and I'm more impressed with them than the winter stuff. But come one - the skinny jeans are not good for my womanly hips! I scoped out the purses in Younkers - no sales of D&B purses.

On my way back to the other end of the mall, of course I had to swing through my fave shoe store. Be still my heart - saw lots of shoes I'd love to have. But nothing I needed to shell out money today for.

While in the shoe store, my baby girl called. She's needed some support this week - it's tough to be a new kid in town. After that, one last swing through Von Mauer to gaze upon the purse. Maybe I'll get it next week if it's still there. Or maybe not.

But the thrill was there!

I lost somethin...

It's my shoppin' jones. I feel so bad without it. Shopping gene, where can you be?

Last winter I enjoyed shopping quite often. It helped me get through the winter - finding items on sale to fill out my wardrobe. 10 years of working at a landfill had somehow left me bereft of decent clothes to wear working in the big city. I loved the thrill of locating those great sale deals.

This year - I try! I walk listlessly through the malls. I've tried them all. Jordan Creek, Valley West and tonight I even wandered through Merle Hay - the grandaddy of DM malls. I remember when MH wasn't even covered.

The first time I recall shopping at MH with Mom and my sissies, and Mom had promised me a turtle. Yep - a real one. But we couldn't find any around the mall - the stores weren't yet under a roof. So I ended up with some type of goopy pink stuff - similar to Play Dough, but gooier.

I miss it. My shopping enjoyment. Maybe this crappy weather has sucked it out of me. I hope spring weather will return my lust of all things shoe and activewear.

White knuckle affair

We didn't wear our medals to breakfast again today - I didn't take pics today so am using this one from October.

Driving to work today was a white knuckle affair! I started the day calmly, with my homies at breakfast celebrating Lucy's bday. I had oatmeal. Exciting huh? We had a full compliment of homies. Pat, Nancy, Lucy, Patti, Deb, Bobbie, Linda, Susan, Diana and me.

We laughed a lot as usual. We gave Pat crap when she tried to tell Chuck (our waitress) that he gave her too much toast. Duh Pat, two halves make a whole. What are friends for? Glad to see Diana - Don had his second hip replacement, and she's been so busy with family stuff, work (important job - she does my taxes!) and now nurse.

During the night before, as forecast, it began to snow. However we got more than they had projected. So after breakfast I went back home to monitor road reports and weather. About 8 a.m. I couldn't stand the stress of waiting - so I took off for DM across Highway 34. It was icy and blowing snow made seeing tough. The wind was very strong.

By Osceola I had another problem - I had to pee (all that coffee at breakfast). I decided to forge on - I have a strong bladder (I told myself) I can make it. Travel on I-35 was slow. I got behind 3 cement trucks going 45 or so. Around New Virginia it began to snow again. Traffic slowed as we began to see cars in the ditch.

My white knuckles weren't the only part of my body stressed by now. My bladder was getting very uncomfortable. Not quite as bad as last summer at the Ozarks (when I was forced to rush into the men's room with tears in my eyes after boating all afternoon), but close. I debated pulling off at the Winterset exit, but it looked icy. So I put the pedal to the metal (not really I was still going 40).

Just south of Grand I did pass a couple cars and cruised to the McDonald's on Mills Civic Parkway. Relief at last! The weather hasn't gotten any better, so I passed on heading to Davenport this afternoon. Might try it in the a.m. or may just phone it in!