Tree Oracle, I was going to wait 48 hours before I wrote this but it is likely this thread will be removed by GW before much longer. Your words Go Scott! Back to your teepee, Pocahontas! really upset me as a matter of fact I could think of little else for most of yesterday. Frankly like most people I have enough stress in my life that I intentionally seek out certain tools exercise, my grandson, a glass of wine, and Garden Web to help me escape those stresses so believe me when I say I am not looking to ignite an already combustible discussion. But I consider what you said Go Scott! Back to your teepee, Pocahontas! to be both racist and sexist. I don't care whether anyone else on the forum agrees with me or not that is not the point what you wrote was highly offensive to me. About mid-day yesterday I asked myself if I was standing next to you at a water cooler, bellied up to a bar, or in my living room, would I call you out about the offensiveness of your comment the answer was yes, but I also doubted you would have said such a thing to my face. I am not going to ask you for an apology I suppose if you were going to offer one you would have responded to my post questioning your comment. I will how ever ask that you tone it down while on this GARDENING forum and that you might even go as far as making a promise to yourself that should you want to discuss your political opinions on the internet you will do so without hiding behind a pseudonym. Katy Guerin

here's another one in a more positive light, if only because they MAKE it positive. God bless them! "Who wants to share what they wished for?" Lam asks. Every arm in the roomful of children flies up. Support Director Gary Lam points to Andrew, a cherubic six-year-old boy with curly brown hair. "Swimming with the dolphins!" Andrew calls out, beaming. Several dozen other campers bounce up and down, eager to share similar experiences. "Meeting Mickey," cries Jordan. "I got a shopping spree in a toy store!" says Kendall. After each wish is revealed, moans of envy echo around the room. "What other good things have happened because you have cancer?" An older boy across the circle, about eleven years old, raises his hand. "Being sick has brought my family closer together. We spend way more time now doing fun stuff." "If I never went to Children's Hospital," a nine-year-old girl, wearing a pink bandana to cover her bald head, says next, "I never woulda met my best friend!" She squeezes the hand of the pig-tailed girl in a matching bandana, seated next to her. "I have a new appreciation for life," says Jake, a counselor and former camper, now in his early twenties. "I've crammed more experiences into the last five years than most people have in their lifetime." Jake is not only the guitar-playing comedian all the campers worship. He's also survived the same battle they are currently fighting. Lam nods appreciatively. "What would you say is the best thing about cancer?" Every hand flies up into the air again and Matthew, a mischievous ten-year-old with shaggy blond hair, is chosen. He smirks, and announces proudly, "The best part is getting to look Cancer in the face and say Ha Ha. Beat You!'" Everyone laughs. Seven-year-old Ella, who has been waving her arm frantically for the past few minutes, can't contain herself a moment longer. "The best part about cancer is getting to come to camp!" she squeals, before clamping a hand over her mouth sheepishly. Ella is referring to Camp Goodtimes - a pediatric oncology camp nestled in the University of British Columbia Research Forest in Maple Ridge, British Columbia. It could easily rival Disneyland for the title of "Happiest Place on Earth." My first encounter with Camp Goodtimes came four years ago after reading a story in Chicken Soup for the Volunteer's Soul, which inspired me to go see the magic for myself. I've been changed ever since. The feather-light little girl snuggled on my lap shifts her weight slightly and jars my attention back to the room. Dani has been listening intently to the discussion going on around her without actively participating. It's hard to believe this sweet girl is the same sad, sick-looking child who stormed into my cabin on the first day, furious with the world, and anything but a happy camper. "The sickest kid in camp," a fellow volunteer had warned me. "So let's not let it stop her from having the time of her life." Dani had barely spoken a word the first few days but was silently soaking it all in, and soon began thriving. Gary Lam circles the room, handing each child a small square of paper and instructing them to write down or draw a picture of something that brings a smile to their face. Dani furrows her eyebrows and sucks on the end of her marker; then she flops on her tummy and swaps the marker for a pink crayon, and begins printing letters carefully. "Do you need help thinking of something?" I whisper nervously. The poor kid has been through so much in the past year, battling treatments and brain surgeries. What could she possibly have to smile about? She shakes her head at me impatiently, as I'm obviously interrupting her thoughts. I glance around the circle at Andrew, Ella, Matthew, and all the other new members of my extended camp family. It's going to be heartbreaking to say goodbye in a matter of days. As magical as these precious weeks of summer are, the frustrating part is leaving this enchanted forest behind and returning to reality, where well-meaning friends just don't realize that the cure rate for childhood cancer is actually quite high and that many of the campers will survive and return as counselors. "You must have had the most depressing time with all those dying kids." I reflect on the summer's activities. Kayaking through the early morning mist. Baking cookies in our pajamas. Water fights of epic proportions. Breaking into spontaneous song and dance whenever the desire struck. "Now it's time to share our smiles with the rest of the world," Gary informs the kids. My campers follow me down a gravel path to the lake, holding hands and clutching strings with dozens of balloons dancing in the breeze and bonking our heads with rubbery thuds. We kneel on the creaky dock and begin the countdown: "3Â..2Â..1!" Dozens of balloons with paper messages attached dancing in the breeze and bonking our heads we release the balloons - and our optimistic thoughts - up into the sky and out into the universe, watching as they slowly float up, up and away. "Blow!" Gary yells. We huff and puff and watch the colorful spheres as they finally disappear from sight. As I survey the young crowd craning their necks for a final glimpse, I marvel at Gary's ability to take a bunch of sick kids and turn a discussion of childhood cancer into such a positive experience. No one was thinking of the hard times. No one was wondering who would be back next summer and who wouldn't. Dani glances up at me and grins. Just moments earlier, before she had carefully folded her paper in half, sealing her message inside, she'd quickly flashed the paper open to give me a peek. In bold pink writing, her message simply said: "I Smile Because I'm Alive."

I'm so sorry about your Ginger girl. Pets are such a wonderful part of our lives, so forgiving, loving, honest, on and on. Ginger was a lucky girl to have you too. Adopting a senior is so kind. Sigh, I have a senior nearing her end of life soon. She's 14 1/2 , can hardly see or hear , her enzymes have been off the chart for years and she keeps on ticking. It will be hard seeing her go even though I've been preparing for this for quite a while. I imagine as always, time will heal the tears and our other pets will need our attention. It's still a tough time.

DH-Worked hard to provide for us and appreciated the fact that I was a SAHM. He was very very involved in the kids activities and spent a lot of quality kid time with them as well as sharing care-giving duties from day one. He is generous to a fault. He can do laundry, clean the bathroom and repair or build just about anything. He cannot cook however so he is banned from the kitchen except to nuke stuff.LOL DS- #1 is he is extremely kind to women. Girls always flocked to him. For a long while he appeared to have his own harem. LOL He absolutely adores his SO and is extremely protective of her without being the least bit controlling. He is a true believer in equal rights but chivalry is his middle name. He has my back. A real tough guy with a gentle nature. D(quite likely)SIL to be- He loves my DD and shows it in every way both large and small. A hard worker who wants a family to provide for and who doesn't have the materialist expectations of his generation. He has solid values and isn't afraid to fight and work hard for what he wants. As my DD puts it... he's a combination of her brother and the best qualities of the two other main loves of her life before him without the negative ones.