stuff

Wow, we had a glorious morning today! Walked out of the house to take Peter to the bus stop and it must have been 60 already. Went for my walk around the park with my walking partner. We only went around twice today but we stopped lots of times to pull garlic mustard so I figure that counts as sit ups. My walking partner knows all kinds of plants and wild life so it's always an adventure to go walking with her. Today I saw trout lily for the first time! Now it's raining again, I actually think I can hear the grass growing! Still warm and springy though with the windows open so, I don't mind the rain.

Heard the peepers last night for the first time this year! I love that sound so much. Some nights I just want to drive around with the windows open listening for the loud spots.

So the Facebook experiment has been interesting, I've been able to reconnect with people from my past as far back as 1st grade! But it certainly has it's limitations. For one thing, it lacks depth, it's like trying to satisfy your NPR jones with USA Today. Also, I've noticed that people will say things to you on FB that they would never say to you in person. Of course that's true with blog comments too. (Not mine of course, all my (two) commenters are very polite!) Surprisingly, Eli was the person in this family who I most expected to jump in with both feet, but he actually kind of shuns it. Not sure I get that, but I guess that's his job, to confound and confuse me! ;-)

Recently I had an exchange with an individual whom I considered a kindred spirit since we share certain interests. Turns out he's an asshole! Surprise! Today I got tired of him trying to pick fights with me about religion and politics (seriously, what the hell is he thinking?) and let him have it, but that type never learns anything, they are already convinced that they know everthing, what can you possibly teach them? I would go ahead and defriend him already, but I used to babysit for this kid and of course I always want to give people more chances. So we'll see, if he knocks it off like I asked him too, that will be good, if he flames me, I'm done. Either way, I'll get some closure. As I told him, I don't have the time or the inclination to argue with people who think their shit doesn't stink. Seriously.

I'm kind of hoping to start writing more, I don't know, it's hard when my Mom is here because I have no privacy. She's constantly hovering over me asking what I'm doing and whether I'm working or playing and can I look this up for her and what's for dinner and the bathroom really needs to be cleaned! I'm sugar coating that last one, she's using much stronger language there. Then there's the perennial favorite "how can you stand living with these people, they leave their crap all over the house!" I especially love that one since she is actually the worst culprit! She left on Saturday morning but I was busy most of the weekend so I've barely scratched the surface on the crap SHE left all over the house. Lol! Apparently she thinks I'm her mother, but honestly? My kids are much better behaved; she's kind of a spoiled brat. Sigh.

It always takes awhile for us to readjust to having our house back and not being micromanaged at all times. I'm sure this is just part of the readustment. It's been so long since I was able to follow my own stream of thought without being interrupted, I sometimes think I've forgotten how. Turns out it's just like riding a bicycle, it all comes back to you!

Our choir had a lovely concert on Sunday. Simply Schubert was the title, the first half was a collection of Schubert's leder (German sp?), which sounded alot like ballads to me, parlor songs of the era, so I'm told. The second half was the whole choir, the organ and an 8 piece string ensemble performing Schubert's Mass in G. We gave up our Saturday afternoons since February rehearsing for it and it was good to finally perform it. My garden beckons so I'm really looking forward to having my Saturdays back!

Speaking of gardening, I think I finally have my backyard vegan neighbor engaged with the idea of a shared vegetable garden! Yea! I really want to make that happen this year. Were getting a rain barrel and we have all this beautiful Southern exposure, it's a shame not to use it! Hopefully I'll be able to connect with my friend who owns horses for some free manure.

Most of the things we planted last year are greening up. I've learned a few important lessons already, such as the need to trim my perennials at the end of the season. My varigated thyme is coming back, but it's coming back around the edges, the center is all dead looking. My purple echinacea is sending up new greenery already, but the white swan isn't showing any activity yet. I'm most disappointed in my crocuses, their blooms have been dwindling however so I probably just need to reseat them in the fall. I've been really envious of all the bulbs coming up. I had sooo intended to get bulbs in last fall so I'd have flowers in front but, it just didn't work out. Ran out of time and money I guess.

I guess I'm technically out of time right now, my butt is hurting from sitting too long today! My poor body, it tries to send me signals! It really does! If only I'd learn to pay attention to them! Time to get back on the bicycle I guess.

That's all for now, folks, rubber side down!

Happy Ground Hog Day!

I think I've given up blogging for Facebook. So sad. Kind of like exchanging a walk-on part in the war for the lead role in a cage. Cold comfort for change. Wish you were here.

A Prayer for Thanksgiving

I had already been cooking and freezing things ahead of time for a couple of weeks. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and I've been at it for a few years now so I'm starting to really get it down to a science. Two nights before I had just made two delectable looking pumpkin pies and some sweet potatos when I was talking a wee break and humming softly to myself. I couldn't get that tune out of my mind and I couldn't remember the lyrics either, so I got a sudden urge to write some new lyrics and this is what happened, I hope you like it!

A Prayer for Thanksgiving
(Sung to the tune of O' Holy Night)

O' Holy One
Were gathered round the table
To give our thanks for these gifts we've received.

2008 has been a banner year!
In so many ways we have you to thank and praise!

We are thankful for this tasty food.
and this chance to join hands together.

We are grateful for friends,
for family, dogs and jobs!

O-ba-a-a-ma will be our president, oh yes!
For so many things we thank you now
please hear our prayer
for peace on earth!

A-a-a-a-men! (Church ending, as many amens as you like with as much harmony as can be mustered!)

Did I mention that we had an all democrat Thanksgiving? Yeah. Just one more thing to be thankful for! :-)

All the other mothers on my block are having a party, but I'm not invited.

Because let's face it, I just don't relish the first day back to school the way they do and who wants a spoil sport standing around counting the days till summer vacation (277) when you are busy celebrating your freedom?

It's too quiet! I miss my kids! I am already dreading parent teacher conferences! And Worst Of ALL?! I HAD TO BE UP AT 6 AM THIS MORNING! Oh, woe and madness, my beloved lazy summer is gone! No more sleeping in, no more morning cuddles, no more going to work in my pajamas. It's over. Now I have to make sure people are up and fed and vitamined and lunch moneyed and then later? We'll have to start having dinner on a regular schedule and, possibly the second worst thing in the world, I will have to enforce a bedtime! It's a tragedy, I tell you, a tragedy of monumental proportions. HOW CAN YOU PEOPLE CELEBRATE AT A TIME LIKE THIS!!!

Okay, they aren't really having a party, but there is definitely a celebratory feeling among some of the other mothers I know and I must confess, I've entertained some uncharitable thoughts about these mothers. I used to think maybe they just didn't really like their kids as much as I do, or perhaps I am merely blessed with superior children! (Yes! That must be it!)

However, I've been rethinking my position and now I'm feeling a little less smug because it would seem that it's not that my children are so wonderful or that I, their sainted mother, am so patient and perfect. (I know, I'm as shocked as you are! Although I am forced to admit that those factors may have some bearing on the outcome.) No, I think the real reason is much simpler then that, it's mainly the age difference.

My kids are 8.5 years apart and they have no sibling rivalry that I can detect. I used to worry that my kids were so far apart they would hardly know each other, wouldn't share any of the same interests, certainly wouldn't share any of the same friends and probably wouldn't be interested in the same toys. But I was wrong and I could never have imagined or dared to wish that they would get along as famously as they do.

Now, I'm not saying that they never have an argument, they definitely get into it from time to time. But it's nothing like the daily battles my brother and I would wage. At only 2.5 years apart we openly despised each other, pausing only for birthdays and holidays. Seriously. We had knock down drag out fights every single day. It was part of our routine, come home from school, have a snack, watch some tv, get into a fight about something petty, lather, rinse, repeat. It sounds ridiculous when I write about it now, but we were really like that and my mother was like all the other "normal" mothers, she couldn't wait for us to go back to school! When I think about it from that perspective, I find that I have a little more sympathy for those other mothers.

"Oh, look, Muffy! It's past noon, the little darlings will be home again in just a couple of hours! Pour me another martini."

(Psst! Only 119 days till Winter Vacation! WOOHOO!)

and then they birth themselves, fully formed

So I clicked on the sitemeter link just out of curiosity and it turns out that people are still dropping by about once a day. Some of them are looking for my guacamole recipe, lots of them are apparently searching for morbid things that are also a fascination and a few are disappointed friends. I would like to tell those people that I'm sorry, but I don't think I am anymore, and I'm sorry about that.

It's a circular argument, but I don't have any burning need to write on this blog because I'm not interested in handing weapons to the enemy. I don't have anything to say that can't be used against me. It turns out that I'm a closet introvert with deeply rooted self-loathing, fear of rejection and a pathological need for approval. Who knew? Well, I knew, of course, and I wrongly assumed that my angsty pathos would merely serve as a springboard to better blogging. But the more I think about it the more I realize that I'm not interested in opening myself up to criticism or being guilt-tripped about what I choose to write or not write about. I'm also tired of setting myself up for failure. It seems to me that I have spent a lifetime trying to live up to other people's expectations of me only to find that they were impossible to satisfy. Meanwhile, my dreams were always the ones that got deferred. It turns out that I've had enough of that in my life and my own internal critic is loud enough.

I hear you thinking: "So turn off the comments already if you're so afraid of what other people think." But that's not it, I'm not afraid of what other people think, on an intellectual level, I don't really care what other people think. It's on a more visceral, emotional level that I internalize these things and then I worry about them far longer then their apparent triviality would seem to warrant. Why do I do this? Hmm, let's save that for the ocd discussion, shall we?

So anyway, if you are here wondering where the post is on the dog dying or my 10th anniversary or our spectacular camping trip to Lake Superior, or the new computer or the garage sale that never was or how my husband is planning a giant 8-foot costume regardless of the fact that my mother is planning on coming back right before Halloween well, maybe I just didn't feel like sharing. What's up with you?

Stop me if you've heard this one...

This past summer John and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary. We didn't throw a big party or go out on a hot date or any of those things they tell you to do in those magazines. No, it was a fairly subdued evening even though it was a Friday and we both had friends who stopped over to hang out. We ended up hanging out more with our friends who stopped over then we did with each other. But that was okay, because the next day? We took the kids and the new dog and drove to Lake Superior! So that was our big anniversary celebration, camping on Lake Superior. The fact that we were doing this instead of sitting in a hot tub at a hotel somewhere has everything to do with the fact that my husband loves me very much. Yes he does! Because you see, he really doesn't like camping. He tolerates it because he knows I like it and he's getting better at it every year. But I know it's a labor of love for him. So, thanks, sweetie! Let's do it again next year!

But that's not the story I came here to tell you today. Today I came here to tell you this story:

Not long after we began dating, John and I were sitting on a couch together watching Frasier when I admitted a special fondness for Roz because she reminded me of myself back in my sluttish days. Although, I coquetishly amended, I might not have been as much of a slut as she was. My then boyfriend and soon-to-be fiance gently put his arm around me and in the most comforting voice imaginable said, "Oh honey, don't put yourself down! I'm sure you were a huge slut!"

That was the moment when I knew he was the one. Now, I'm probably not telling this very well, it probably doesn't sound very romantic and I'm sure it's lost something in translation. But I want to be clear, the thing that struck me the most about this wasn't his quick witted response or his obvious security with his sexuality and mine, it was his ability to completely dismiss our relative pasts for the opportunity to be here now, in this moment, with me. So really, when you think about it that way, it's about the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.

We called her Shredder for awhile

A good dog falls ill
I weep and sleep by her side
Lucy, please don't go!
This is one of my favorite pictures of Lucy because you can see so much of her personality showing through. Notice the dish that she's carrying around? That was classic Lu. She was constantly picking up dishes and carrying them around, even if they happened to be filled with water! Her need for a "security dish" led to the purchase of subsequently larger and larger dog dishes in the hopes that they would be too heavy, once filled with water, for her to pick up. HA! We finally had to resort to ceramic for water. Naturally, we never had to worry about her picking it up and dumping her food because she inhaled it as soon as it hit the bowl.

Notice also that her tail is wagging too fast to see it? That tail was legend. For instance she was a natural born drummer and when she wanted something she seemed to have a supernatural ability to find the most drum like (hollow sounding) item in the room. Then she would stand next to it and wag her massive tail with rhythmic intensity, earning her the nickname "Her Tailness."

She didn't wag her tail,
so much as wield it, drumming
the loudest surface



This is a nice picture because you can kind of see that her left ear flap is missing. Plus, as Alwen sometimes points out, you really need a white background to properly photograph a black dog. Lucy LOVED the snow, omg, first snow fall would find her rolling in it, burying her face in it and snuffling, leaping and running to forge a snowy new dog path where the earthen one used to be. We don't know how she lost her ear flap, she came to us that way, but she was always sensitive to loud noises, howling in perfect pitch with police, fire and tornado sirens.

She sang for sirens
my baby girl with one ear
her tail was legend

She was such a loving and playful dog, I was trying to just get a picture of her here, but there's another one taken at the same time with PJ in it and he was about two. When he was outside, she was outside. She was my Nanna dog, always watching out for the babies.

One of my favorite stories to tell about her involves my Mom's late dog, Matilda. Matilda was a rather high strung girl, being a mix of border collie and Australian Shepard she seemed to have all the spookiest qualities of both breeds and she clearly on edge around small children. One evening, Lucy was sitting on a chair in the family room, Matilda was between the couch and the coffee table and PJ was on the other side of the coffee table blocking her escape. Matilda started jumping back and forth behind the coffee table looking for an exit and I was preparing to jump up and rescue her but Lucy beat me to it. Having properly assessed the situation already, she heaved a resigned sigh and got out of the chair, placing herself between PJ and Matilda, thereby offering Matilda a means of escape. It was brilliant to watch and I praised her like crazy, but that was just one of many instances in which she would endear herself to me.

Now, don't get me wrong, she was far from perfect! She had serious food aggression issues and would tangle with any dog who got too close to her dish, or even if they were eating from their own dish and she decided she wanted what they had. When I fed her and Hairy (Mom's new dog) in the morning I frequently had to stand between them to keep her from eating his food after she finished hers! She was also not very nice to the cat and sometimes she would growl at her just for walking by. When I had the audacity to leave the house without her she frequently rewarded me by removing the trash from my room and strewing it throughout the house. She was a very large lab as well, at one point reaching a top weight of 105. This was too much however and I was obliged to put her on a diet. She didn't like that idea much so, not long after that weight was taken we started walking several times a week to help her trim down. (The irony was not lost on me that the life I saved might be my own.) We continued our walks, 3 times a week weather permitting, until the Monday before she died and the last time she was weighed that week she was quite trim at 85 pounds.

So that was how it ended. We went walking on Monday, the week before Memorial Day, and she was gone on Sunday, May 25th. Before we were done with that last walk, my walking partner and I were commenting on how much both dogs were slowing down (she has a 13 year old lab/greyhound mix) and that we would have to start leaving them home because it was just too much for them anymore.

The next morning, John was getting ready for work when he said, "I'm worried about Lu, she didn't ask for breakfast." This was earth-shattering news. An un-hungry Lu must be a very sick Lu indeed so I made her a vet appt for that very afternoon. She kept coughing and I kept thinking that she had something in her throat but the vet said no, there's no blockage, but to she had some sort of respiratory issue going on. She said, "If it's a virus, it might get worse before it gets better, but it might be something else so lets try these anti-biotics." Well, she got about two anti-biotics in her that day and the next day she started vomiting. Keeping the vets words in mind I watched over her for the next day while she seemed to get worse and worse, hoping that she would improve. Thursday was really bad and I thought I had better take her to the vet again on Friday, but then on Friday she seemed to perk up a little and she stopped vomiting so I thought maybe she had turned the corner. I kept a close eye on her that day and when she decided to go outside at 10 pm, I followed her with a bed roll to stay by her side. Eventually she came back in, but she always wanted to be close to her pack and I didn't want her to feel like she needed to climb the stairs to do that, so I slept on the couch that night in hopes that she would find that comforting.

On Saturday morning she started vomiting blood. By Saturday afternoon I had called the emergency pet hospital and found out that it would cost several hundred dollars to have her seen by a vet and even more hundreds of dollars should we decide to ease her passing. Did I want to make an appointment for a euthanasia? Did I want to have her admitted? No, we talked about it as a family and we didn't think that was a good idea. I have enough medical background that I knew what would happen if we took her in for an exam. They would declare her dehydrated and want to admit her, pumping her back up full of IV fluids. We would not be able to be with her there, she would be alone and probably frightened. We decided to wait it out and continued offering water, but she was already too weak to drink and whenever she did, she would just vomit it back up with a bloody, fowl smelling chaser. It was time to talk to the boys. Ebo, being 16, already knew what was going on and no, if we took her in the middle of the night he did not need to be awakened, he had already said his goodbyes. PJ was oblivious to what was transpiring and naturally devastated when we explained that she might not make it. After all, he had known her his entire life. We comforted him and explained that we might have to help her die because she was suffering and we didn't want her to be in pain. No, he agreed, that would be bad.

Around 11 pm I was exhausted and decided to lay down for a minute. I got back up just a few minutes later and I don't rightly recall the reason at the time. But I went downstairs to the kitchen and when I turned to go back up, she just gave me this look that said, "I'm frightened!" and I knew it was time. It's a strange thing to suddenly know. You never really know how you are going to react in this type of situation and when I contemplated the possibility of her death I wondered if I would know. How would I know? Would I be strong enough to do the right thing when the time came? I don't know how I knew, I just knew. I simply said, "John, it's time" and I called the emergency clinic to tell them we were on our way.

We took her bed out to the back of the car. We carefully spread a sturdy blanket next to her to use as a stretcher and gently lifted her onto it. We carried her out to the car, comforted her and took her on her last ride past the park. I went in while John sat in the back end of the wagon with her. I was filling out paperwork when they went out with a stretcher to bring her in. I will never forget the kindness on the faces of the vet tech, Eli and the vet, whose name escapes me now. I will never forget the look on Lucy's face when they brought her in on the stretcher, confused and frightened until she spotted me.

We waited in an exam room while they installed an IV hook up to administer the euthanasia drugs, I wanted to stay with her but no, I could not. They would bring her right back, they promised. That was the moment when I knew I could never have left her there in that condition, knowing that she was dying, I could never have let her die alone.

The vet said, "you can take as long as you need." We said "I don't think we want to wait, she might be in pain." The vet nodded grimly in agreement. I will never forget that the color of death is a bright turquoise or teal, almost a neon Parrish blue, it was such a pretty color, how poetic and ironic. I bent over the stretcher, tilting my head sideways to look her straight in the eye. Her cloudy black eyes, once so clear and brown, looked back at me. Gently stroking the top of her head I said, "I love you, baby girl" and she was gone.

I loved her so much
I am weeping as I write this
how can she be gone?

Haiku comes from pain
sometimes, other times from joy
this much I have learned.

Who are you people?

So I get these reports from Sitemeter, right? And I couldn't be bothered to turn them off even though I haven't written anything here for over 8 months. Sometimes I accidently click on the messages when I'm sorting through my yahoo mail and every time I do, it tells me I'm getting like, two clicks a day. I find this astonishing! I'm noticing that most of the people who land here do so accidently and they don't stay long. But some people regularly check in to see if I've extricated my cranium from my gluteous maximus yet. Well, you people are insane if you think that's ever going to happen, but I do love you for checking. I might not be done here after all.

Jim Crow Meets the 21st Century

Hey, this is going to be quick but more reminiscent of where I thought I was going with this whole bloggity thing anyway, so I appreciate you bearing with me. I'm seriously so flabbergasted I can't even comment intelligently yet, maybe in a few days.

A friend of mine sent this to me today and I'm just so enraged that this crap is still going on in 2007, well, I just had to share. The title link above will take you to the wikipedia entry on Jena, Louisiana with a detailed section on the racial tensions there and a list of references. The links in the call to action I responded to (shown below) will take you to the "Color of Change" website.

Dear friend,

I just learned about a case of segregation-era oppression happening
today in Jena, Louisiana. I signed onto ColorOfChange.org's campaign
for justice in Jena, and wanted to invite you to do the same.

http://www.colorofchange.org/jena/?id=1389-227651

Last fall in Jena, the day after two Black high school students sat
beneath the "white tree" on their campus, nooses were hung from the
tree. When the superintendent dismissed the nooses as a "prank," more
Black students sat under the tree in protest. The District Attorney
then came to the school accompanied by the town's police and demanded
that the students end their protest, telling them, "I can be your best
friend or your worst enemy... I can take away your lives with a stroke
of my pen."

A series of white-on-black incidents of violence followed, and the DA
did nothing. But when a white student was beaten up in a schoolyard
fight, the DA responded by charging six black students with attempted
murder and conspiracy to commit murder.

It's a story that reads like one from the Jim Crow era, when judges,
lawyers and all-white juries used the justice system to keep blacks in
"their place." But it's happening today. The families of these young
men are fighting back, but the story has gotten minimal press.
Together, we can make sure their story is told and that the Governor
of Louisiana intervenes and provides justice for the Jena 6. It starts
now. Please join me:

http://www.colorofchange.org/jena/?id=1389-227651

The noose-hanging incident and the DA's visit to the school set the
stage for everything that followed. Racial tension escalated over the
next couple of months, and on November 30, the main academic building
of
Jena High School was burned down in an unsolved fire. Later the same
weekend, a black student was beaten up by white students at a party.
The next day, black students at a convenience store were threatened by
a
young white man with a shotgun. They wrestled the gun from him and ran
away. While no charges were filed against the white man, the students
were later arrested for the theft of the gun.

That Monday at school, a white student, who had been a vocal supporter
of the students who hung the nooses, taunted the black student who was
beaten up at the off-campus party and allegedly called several black
students "nigger." After lunch, he was knocked down, punched and
kicked by black students. He was taken to the hospital, but was
released and was well enough to go to a social event that evening.

Six Black Jena High students, Robert Bailey (17), Theo Shaw (17),
Carwin Jones (18), Bryant Purvis (17), Mychal Bell (16) and an
unidentified minor, were expelled from school, arrested and charged
with second-degree attempted murder. The first trial ended last
month, and Mychal Bell, who has been in prison since December, was
convicted of aggravated battery and conspiracy to commit aggravated
battery (both felonies) by an all-white jury in a trial where his
public defender called no witnesses. During his trial, Mychal's
parents were ordered not to speak to the media and the court
prohibited protests from taking place near the courtroom or where the
judge could see them.

Mychal is scheduled to be sentenced on July 31st, and could go to jail
for 22 years. Theo Shaw's trial is next. He will finally make bail
this week.

The Jena Six are lucky to have parents and loved ones who are fighting
tooth and nail to free them. They have been threatened but they are
standing strong. We know that if the families have to go it alone,
their sons will be a long time coming home. But if we act now, we can
make a difference.

Join me in demanding that Louisiana Governor Kathleen Blanco get
involved to make sure that justice is served for Mychal Bell, and that
DA Reed Walters drop the charges against the 5 boys who have not yet
gone to trial.

http://www.colorofchange.org/jena/?id=1389-227651

Thanks.

That's all for now, check back later for spitting, sputtering, cursing and vitriol!

This post has no title.

Nor does it contain any spoilers, just a mission, should you chose to accept it.

If you're new around here, you may not be aware of what a huge Potter fan I am. If your one of those types who hasn't read them because you think they're just kids books, not serious literature and fantasy is just silly, well you should probably just leave now because frankly, you people take yourselves far too seriously.

If, on the other hand, you have not read them *yet* because you've been terribly busy knitting, selling nappies, writing screen plays or building a log cabin, then I promise you, I will not ruin your fun. But I have been waiting for this book for a very long time, so I can't just let it go without comment, ya know?

I just want to say one thing, okay maybe a few things. Rowling does not disappoint. I loved this book, in fact it may end up being my favorite in the series. Deathly Hallows starts moving at a harrowing pace from chapter one and the hits just keep coming, one nail-biting, page turning chapter after another. Honestly, it doesn't let up until the epilogue. She manages to tie up most of the loose ends, saving some of the best for last in the final few chapters.

We all knew there would be some deaths, "it's not a bloodbath, but it is more then two" was the final word we heard from Rowling on the subject. Of course, Moldy Voldy and the gang were killing them off fairly indescriminately, so quite a few of them are unknowns or barely knowns, but there was a bit more bloodshed then I expected and that's definitely all I can say on that topic!

The only complaints I have regard the development of specific characters who could have been given more ink (imho) but I have to balance that (being a typical Libra) with the knowledge that further character development would have been paid for in the pace of the book, which I can only describe as breathtaking, or maybe exhilarating. Seriously.

Now I must confess, I'm one of those terribly impatient people who actually read the Epilogue spoiler on line because I HAD TO KNOW! Yes, I was a tiny bit disappointed in myself for that. However, knowing what the ending was going to be did not stop me from buying two copies anyway, so I think I'm somewhat redeemed. Also, I can assure you, that even if you also choose to read the epilogue first, you'll still want to read the rest of the book. You will still be biting your nails with suspense until the very end to see HOW it all ends up the way it does. Rowling always said that she enjoyed the fan fiction and they won't be disappointed either, she's left them plenty to work with!

A couple of thoughts on the latest movie, it's probably not a good idea to re-read the book *immediately* before seeing the movie. That did not improve my viewing pleasure. No siree. The guys loved it though, so I do recommend it for those non-readers out there. You know who they are, they can't sit still long enough to read a book but their houses are immaculate. What can you do? Some people's priorities are just totally screwed up!

But if you are a reader, you may appreciate this. I started re-reading with Sorceror's Stone right after school let out (Some of them for the third or 4th time!) and finished re-reading Half-Blood Prince on Wednesday, July 18th. Do not ask me what I did on the 19th, I don't recall. No, I'm not ashamed to be that obessed with a "kids book"...hey wait a minute, I thought I told you "serious" people to leave!

Anyway, I highly recommend re-reading the previous six books before you delve into the final chapter of Harry's story, if only to enjoy them one last time before the story ends. I know, that may take till fall, but that's cool, I'll wait...

So that's your mission, go read Deathly Hallows! Now! For extra credit read the rest of them, in order, first. Come back when you are finished so we can discuss, ok?

Gah, there's so much more I want to talk about! Aren't you people done reading yet?