I love that and I'm going to check Amazon to see if Journal of Solitude is available. There is nothing like solitude..absolutely nothing...to make you feel like one with the universe. I would go mad if I didn't have it on a regular basis. As gardeners,I'm sure we've all experienced being out there digging,weeding or whatever, alone with our thoughts, when a phone will ring or a car will pull in and it feels like a huge intrusion.

I did look at the older outfits. I haven't read all the accompanying comments, yet. Too busy envy-ing her talent. My most strident bit of feminism is to believe that anyone can have non-hormonal funks. And that the funks don't even have to have a physical cause. For me, handling a funk is very much like adjusting to a sorrow. One must make a great effort to accumulate new memories that will soften the broken edges and [I have learned from experience] eventually the new memories will form a lovely mosaic which encompasses sorrows and funks, putting each into their place. I make hot chocolate from scratch when at home... I haven't the vaguest idea where I found the first recipe, but I doubt the present directions have much resemblance. I always follow a recipe with careful precision the first time, but after that, I have a tendency to nudge it a bit here and there. When the nudges fulfill expectations, then I make a note on the original. Recipe margins are rarely wide enough; the time comes when I write it anew. I think my present version is probably the fourth incarnation. It's enough to make one give serious consideration to reincarnation, where advancing to a new book can be made only after numerous intervening improvements.

(Lilo, how could I possibly mind such a thing? I'm honored!) Greetings from Panama City! Steve is asleep after a complete day of travel and two non-stop days of tourism, and I've helped myself to his laptop and the internet connection he set up to work while he's here. The world has become an amazingly small place. This is a very short trip for me... I go back tomorrow! But Steve had to come here for work, and my airfare cost only 35,000 of the 200,000+ frequent flier miles he had... so I couldn't say no. For someone who doesn't speak any Spanish, I've really surprised myself (and Steve) with my ability to read menus, understand and answer questions, ask for and follow directions, and interact politely with people here. On the plane ride here, the captain announced that "for those of us who cared, the Panama-US soccer match had resulted in a 0-2 US victory" and I cheered out loud... not because I care a lick about the standing of the US in world soccer, but because he had made the announcement in Spanish, and I understood it fluently in real time. That realization has made this trip richer than I'd imagined. So far we've gone to Gamboa, taken a boat tour to an island to see wildlife and feed monkeys, visited an orchid collection, gone to the zoo, enjoyed several walks and restaurants, toured the city ruins and the old part of the city (which is a strange combination of slums, regentrification, and one town square in particular that was bordered by no less than seven churches), gone to the canal museum, gone to an emerald museum (where Steve offered to buy me whatever I wanted, but where my practicality did not allow it... someone is sure to take away my "chick card"), and we are getting ready to go out to dinner with some important laboratory owners/managers. Someone at work asked my why I was going to Panama the other day and her tone irked me a little so I non-chalantly replied "genital warts" and walked away as though the exchange was in no way unusual. When pressed, I explained that we were here because Steve was presenting some new HPV technology to an important lab here and giving a talk to a group of gynocologists... "so really, my trip is all about genital warts..." She shook her head and walked away, vowing that she'd spare herself my answers by asking me fewer questions. Win-win, really... Di, I got some interesting pictures of a giant freaky bug for you... though I'm sorry to report the pics I took of the unimaginably large spiders didn't turn out so well. Marda, thanks for the book recommendation! I bought a copy of The Omnivore's Dilemma right before we left, and I've been reading it voraciously during the travel time on our trip. I should finish it up in Houston (GBI) during my five freakin hour layover tomorrow. Sorry for the excessively rambling nature of this post, but I don't have time to proof read it! I need to hop in the shower and get ready to enjoy my last night in this city. This has been a phenomenal trip so far!

A year after DD was born, we were visiting the Dr for her checkup. The checking nearly completed, Doc looks at me and asks if I'd ever heard of ADHD. Nope. That was over 30 years ago, and to make a very long story short, DD was formally diagnosed as being ADHD, along with allergies to oranges and to artifical food colorants, with a [later confirmed] suspicion that the allergies themselves were contributors to the ADHD. Although medicants were available, the pediatrician was very much against using them, feeling that a careful diet and considerable training in self-control was more effective. The diagnosis was not made after a half-hour's observation, or even after a month. It tooks many months of careful record-keeping of her behavior and a strict observance of diet, along with many many visits to doctors before they determined that she showed consistent symptoms of ADHD, and that the ADHD was seriously aggravated with the intake of oranges and food items containing artificial colors of red and yellow. (And let me tell you, back then labels rarely carried much specific ingredient information and even less on food additives.) So, yes, I do understand that other folks are not very understanding. I'd like a dime for everytime someone -and family were often the worst- gave DD a cup of OJ, and for the next 30 hours *I* was the one trying to comfort and keep safe this small child suffering with literally non-stop movement, who alternated periods of running around the room with crying from the irritation caused by the allergic reaction. Once she got old enough to explain, she said it "feels like biting ants are running around under your skin." BTW, to this day she maintains that is a good description. Somewhat more is known about ADHD today than was known 40 years ago, but there is probably even more that is not known. No one can give advice on the care of a person they don't know. All I can tell you is that for DD (who has an IQ of 150+), I maintained a strict diet that contained little sugar, no citrus and no food that could possibly have a coloring additive. At that time it was known that hamburger and other meats might contain coloring, so even meat had to come from a trusted grower. We started yoga while she was a toddler -- and yes, I think it did help teach her body-control. She had to learn to take responsibility for herself, and I had to learn to let her do it. Until she learned to politely refuse [candy/koolaid/OJ/fruit punch/cocoa/soft drinks/etc] I did run interference, including explanations to relatives [repeated ad nauseum] that if she ate xxx, the food would make her very sick. Explaining isn't frustrating, but having gramma nod in agreement while handing DD an orange slice, used to raise my blood pressure. I finally accepted that gramma and a few others were not/never going to consider DD's needs. So it may have been unfamilial, but I taught DD to eat and drink absolutely nothing that I hadn't okayed first. Was it easy? No. Was it worth it? Yes. Did she ever take medicants? No. Did I consider medicines? Sure, especially if she had been up every two hours all night, and the teacher complained that she couldn't sit still for the whole lesson [ah, by that time *I* knew she could sit for almost an hour], and I had spent four hours at the grocery reading labels, and the dogs were trying hide under the sofa so she wouldn't chase them... Being the parent of an ADHD child is not easy. Being the child is more difficult. So, control the diet and provide plenty of opportunities for activity. Praise the child for every success in learning to sit still; and be prepared to explain [ad infinitum] to adults that: certain food/drinks are forbidden without exception; a 5-minute run should be allowed once an hour; swinging legs while sitting does not interfere with the brain's capability to learn; and that being active is far better for the child's development than watching TV or playing computer games. And be prepared for them to forget, not understand, or otherwise think/imply/say that you are wrong. Your reward will come in a decade as others see your intelligent, polite, considerate, responsible child mature into an adult that is a true pleasure to know.