Seeing daily pictures of your grandchildren on Facebook.
Having people in the book come back into your life, and then they live in North Carolina. 
Having people come back in your life who fed you Margaritas the day you gave up men, and then introduced you to Jack the next day.   
Watching The Patriot.
Rainwater
Oh G_d, Oh G_d, Oh G_d, Oh my Adonai!  Thanks Jack
Don't you need to save it for your prescriptions?  I'm not on it anymore.  I think it's because I lost weight.  Thank you Jack.  I want you around forever as crazy as you make me sometimes.  Right back at ya Kate.  I'm so happy our life is back on track, and I made you chocolate.  How is it? It's not the Chocolate Lounge, but it tastes good for not having a recipe.   What about the Net.  I couldn't find one.  Next time it will be even better, and it's made with love. 

Happy Anniversary Jack.  We made it 14 years.  It's OK.  Sing it out loud.  333.  Thank you for the cinnamon toast.  I forgot how good it was although it's not on the Rif Raf diet. 

Love notes from Jack when I'm gone, and having him hold me when I sing the Sh'ma. 
The mountain, the river, the lake, and the desert.  Why do you think the Judaism is on your Mother's side of the family?  Maybe it's your Father's. 
Antonia Banderas on the cover of AARP magazine.  We'll maybe the magazine isn't free as there's a membership attached, but he's nice to look at. 

The thing about not growing up Jewish is that I have no preconceived notions about how things should be.  Every service is exciting, and the fact that the Rabbi's and Cantor bring me to tears regularly demonstrates that I'm there.  Thank you Adonai for allowing me to live through 5771, for taking care of my family and bringing back old friends, for giving the doctors the skill to repair my sister-in-laws heart during these high holiest of days, for the good news this Kol Nidre, and I pray that you allow me to live long enough to say it.  Here's to the number 23, and to Israel in 5773. 

Waving at the army convoy's on our way to Yakima!  Thank you for your service, and for waving back. 

I've said several times that I don't know what I am, and I think I've finally figured it out thanks to some really smart people I hang out with on Saturday.  I think I have an Old Soul with a G_d given gift that I buried in my twenties that's come back after the chaos next door.  I feel the Spirit of my ancestors, and sometimes they drop by.  For those of you that don't believe in souls and the spirit of Adonai who think I'm crazy, in our Hood we would say, Kiss my Ass.  That childhood mantra has a whole new meaning for me now, and it's unfortunate that some people have no heart with clouded souls.  If my Grandmother had told me I was Cherokee and what that meant, maybe my childhood years would have been clearer.  The Holcomb that gave me my Cherokee name is fortunate to have known he was Cherokee his entire life.  He learned the language, gave me the test, and explains to his young nephews why they don't need to be afraid when they sleep.  They know that the spirits around them are their Great Ancestors so in their world there's no such thing as the Boogie Man.  To my Baptist Grandmother who taught me to be a lady by washing my mouth out with soap only once, I'll honor you to the end of time by trying to be a better person each day.  To my Cherokee Grandmother I honor you with the water, and thank you for telling me I was a 10 even though I didn't believe you at the time.  I'll strive to be a 10 each day with the exception of Saturday when I pray.  May the Spirit of Adonai be with you always, and your Souls return to those who deserve them the most.  Thank you for giving me the Torah and Sefer Yetzirah.  I'm sure the Garden of Eden is where you both now live. 

Chayei Sarah    11192011
The thing about not reading ahead in the Torah is that when we get to my favorite part of the training manual it's always a surprise.  Dr. DNA said he'd leave some puns behind, but it was a very serious day with our visitor from Pennsylvania.  I'm sorry the man that shook me into my realization was not present today to discuss our favorite part of the book.  I call this part Ode to Sarah and enter Rebekah, and I can't think of a better way to celebrate the day than to buy Prince tickets.  Ironically I'll be honoring the death of my Cherokee Grandmother at a Prince concert, and I can't think of a better place to honor someone than to be with a person that believes as deeply as I.  I wonder if Cousin Pete ever figured out my message?  I think not since the degradation of my reputation was in full swing at that point.  The long drawn out voicemails were telling, and I read back on them now knowing they were edited to fit a purpose that can only be described as vicious.  Today we talked about G_d's destruction of certain people, which correlates to Dr. Martin Luther King County.   When negotiations break down, then the only thing left to do in the Great Architect of the Universe's world is to take the land.  They didn't listen, which means that the Great Architect of the Universe isn't as great as he thinks.   The Hebrew G_d that I prayed to prevailed, and those that desecrated our ancestors should perhaps get down on their knees and ask for forgiveness.  They wasted thousands of tax payer dollars, didn't prevail, we're outfoxed by a Benson Babe who will spend the rest of her life on sacred ground.  I'd drop a mo fo in there someplace, but every day of my life I keep trying to be a better person.  Here's to lets go Mother Fucking Crazy, and saving the planet one parcel at a time.      ...........Shira Rivka

You hair is beautiful, and it smells so nice.  What do you put in it?  Goat shit.  No really.  I put Moroccan Oil in my hair which is made from seeds that goats shit.  You seem to have a vortex around goats.  It started in about 1979 when I visited Mexico for the first time.  My in-laws had friends who owned a campground in San Felipe, and we went there for vacation one year right before Easter.  We had a feast at the hacienda of roasted goat coupled with some of the best food I've ever eaten.  That's where I learned about the Federales. 

Can I borrow Eminem Grandma?  Sure.  I probably should have asked her father first.  If you ever go to Eminem, I want to go with you.  I doubt I'll go to Eminem, but it's good to know you have great taste in music.  Sidenote mom!  Don't ever give her the keys to your car.  She's too smart for her own good sometimes. 

11272011  Thank you YHVH for sending us three deer to eat in our pasture in front of the sanctuary I built for you.  Thank you YHVH for my brother who knows when to pray for me.  Thank you YHVH for encouraging me to look to the Northeast. 

12102011  All week long the breathing of the participants in my class got progressively worse including myself.  By Friday after hiking up the hillside to my office I could barely breath.  I met Jack at the Renton Highlands Cheers so that we could at least have dinner together before his Friday night caveman ritual.  We walked into friends and strangers and the the topic of the total eclipse of the moon came up.  We had conflicting time periods, and I was excited to see what the answer was.  We all said our goodbyes, and I headed home to an evening of catching up on Bones.  The thing about the dog is that she is so competitive with me.  At one point when I got up for a hot cinnamon spiced apple cider she took my spot on the couch.  I just looked at her, said "Really", and then kissed her on the forehead.  I love our Shabbat evenings of reflection, and pray that she has many more years to come.  I set the alarm clock for 444 so that I could sing the Sh'ma, and hit the snooze once before my moon gazing.  At one time Ned said in an email that Jack needed to get me under control, and I needed to stop slithering around at night.  For the record I don't slither.  I simply walk the dog in the moonlight, and please know that I'm fully upright.  At 5 a.m. I decided to drag myself outside, and fortunately for me Jack woke up.  "Kate you can see the moon from the bathroom window, and even sit on the toilet to watch."  Just think I could have been freezing my tail off outside, and now I have the option of watching the total eclipse of the moon from the toilet.  I thanked Jack and later told him that he was right about the timeframe.  It started about 5 a.m., and ended sometime about 6:45.  I'm not sure of the exact time because I was watching the eclipse naked from the bathtub without a clock.  I floated there thinking that those that monitor satellites could be watching me now, and if the neighbors have a camera pointed at the bathroom they have a nice view of my naked A$$and tatoo as long as they have a night vision camera.  What's nice about the morning is that as soon as the moon disappeared I could breath again.  Is it purely coincidence or not, and I wonder how many of my participants will wake up this morning feeling better.  I thank goodness for the simple things in life, and know that I would never have gotten to the place that I am spiritually if I hadn't been subjected to the chaos caused by King County, Title Companies, Sally, Ned, and the Spitting Man.  A very special thank you, Shabbat Shalom, and yipeeeeekayaaaaaah mother fu$@%s to the roughnecks at the Red Dog Saloon that offered to cut the trees and those who supported me the last 7 years.  You are my friends!

12232011 5:12 a.m.  The end.  Now I just need to put my notes together and copy and paste.  Hopefully my brother still wants to edit 7 years later, and the new book begins on January 14.  OMG!  Maybe that's why I had a vortex around the number 14 when I met Scott.  Only time will tell. 

Happy 2012, and it will be OK.  You're just going to the South Slope where they have windmills and farmland. 

Katherine?  It's Beverly.  Katherine? It's Beverly.  Kimberly?  Yes  Later that day...... I called you Kimberly earlier today.  That's OK.  Just call me Kate. 

I told the story of a blind woman I met on the street.  She was having difficulty walking the steep slopes of the Seattle streets.  People passed her by, and didn't help.  I asked her if she needed help, and she said yes.  I was going in the opposite direction to the Transportation Committee meeting at the Ivory Tower, but I walked her to her bus.  She needed help.  As we walked down the hill, my backpack bumped her.  She asked me what was so heavy in the pack, and I told her my life.  Her muscles tightened, and I felt a strange vibration. She wanted to ask a question, but didn't. 

I had my life in the form of my laptop, and the intial research I was doing on Richard Harison and my families ties to the founding of America.  She could have asked me to explain, but didn't.   

The next time I saw Scott he asked me what was in my backpack.  I thought to myself, "It's none of your business."  Everything happens for a reason so later I sent him a complete inventory of my backpack.  Even though it's none of his business.  Today not much has changed.  I replaced the Tampax with a compass, and carry more food than I used to for obvious reasons. 

The TSA supervisor told me that the others didn't see her because they were in a different place.  I don't know if they were in another place physically, mentally or something inbetween.  I wonder what happened that day at the Ivory Tower.  The world may never know. 

02142012  Happy Valentine's Day Jack.  There's no place I'd rather be than right here in your arms.  Let's stay home tonight.  Maybe the firepit will come in today, and the skies will remain clear.  I'll show you where Orion is.  I'll defrost some chicken, and pick up some brussel sprouts, coffee and cream.  Maybe I'll find the Temple today after I take the dog in, and we'll go for a long walk.  I wonder if people that have grown up here realize how lucky there are to wake up to such beauty.  Oh, and I was told that there was a marker where the Stone's concert was, and someone took it.  Really!