I'm curious about almost everything. I read and see things that most people wouldn't pay the least bit of attention to and I wonder ...why? For instance, at the moment McAffe is doing a scan on my computer, the balloon tells me that 55,958 items have been scanned and 13 items have been detected and removed. Since I haven't, in the course of surfing received any warnings, I'm assuming these are low threat adware items. However, my curiosity is aroused by this question. What are these 55,958 "items" that McAffe has scanned?

The total number of scanned items varies each time, but can amount to between 90,000 and 120,000 "items". How does this happen, and why doesn't disk cleanup get rid of them? The other thing I'd like to know is who designed these things so you can't figure out what these files are unless you have a degree in computer technology? It also occurs to me to wonder if computers would work more efficiently and maintain more speed if these files were not constantly being added to everywhere you go. If these files are temporary files, why aren't they more...well...temporary? I've found temporary cookies that don't expire until the year 2038, what's up with that? That's 31 years from now and frankly, I most likely will expire before that temporary cookie does. If the life span of a computer is 4 years, why do these temporary cookies last as long as they do?

Sometimes I get lucky and I will accidentally find an answer to a question that I have roaming around in my head. While finding these cat pictures with the misspelled captions, I kept seeing them called either lol cats or AYB cats. Now, lol cats made sense because they do tend to make you laugh out loud. AYB, even when I found out that it means All Your Bases, didn't. Then I found a site that referred to them as AYBABTU cats. That gave me a definite WTF moment. Really. I found out that if you're a gamer, you know what that means. Well, I'm not a gamer, so I had to click onto a couple of links (because I'm curious) to find out.

The name of the game escapes me, but it's a war game which has as one of the participants, an army of cats. During a mistranslated conversation the leader of the cats makes the claim that "All your bases are now belong to us". I couldn't find any reference to what the cat leader was actually supposed to have said, but the bad english construction of that sentence has given rise to something called Kitty Pidgen. Some places I've found it just called Kidgen. Silly, but it makes sense. There's no telling what language cats actually do speak. I would imagine, if they could really talk, their attempts at speaking English would consist of mispronounced words and poorly constructed sentences. Who knew? Better yet...who cares?

Now, if I could find out what all these other files are in my computer, then I would be garnering useful knowledge. I would be able to clean out unwanted files which would free up storage space and allow a much more efficient running of my computer. I might even get more than 4 years of use out of it. In the meantime, unless I accidentally stumble on an answer to those 100,000 "items" McAffe just scanned I can just CAYB.

In New York State this summer there have been 2 hit and run boating accidents on 2 separate lakes. Both resulted in the deaths of the victims, and that is not the only similarity between them. Both involved high speed boats on which young people under 21 were partying. They both involved drinking, and drugs. They both involved a group of at least 6 people on each boat. The survivors in both cases all had cell phones and no one called for help for these people until after the boats had docked. In both cases only one person reported the incident. In both cases there is some question as to whether or not the victims would have survived had help arrived sooner. In the first incident one of them might have.

Last nights news was taken up with interviews from psychologists who are being asked to explain how this kind of thing happens. Not the accidents, the running away from the scene when there is more than one person involved. Most of what I'm hearing sounds like an excuse, a very poor excuse, not a reason. Most of what I'm hearing indicates to me that a number of young people out on a speed boat were partying, showing off, behaving recklessly and no one was willing to accept responsibility for their behavior. They don't report it because they don't want to get into trouble for behaving badly, and apparently that's more important than the life of their victim.

These accidents were not gang related. They don't involve blacks or hispanics. There were no guns or knives involved, just booze and marijuana. They are 12 young men and women of middle class, mostly college students with one notable exception. The driver of the boat in the first accident last month was a lawyer. His brother tried to claim that he was the driver so that the young man who killed 2 people because he was driving a boat in a reckless manner didn't pay for his crime the rest of his life. Excuse me, what part of 2 people not having a rest of their lives don't they get? What part of you were under the influence, you were showing off and driving recklessly, and you left 2 people to die, earns you the right to have a law practice?

So, now the apologists are coming out and explaining how groups of people involved in activities that result in trouble for them can leave the scene and let others die. This is all understandable to them. These people aren't criminals, you see, they are young men and women who made an understandable mistake. They didn't intend on killing anyone, that"s just what happened. What happened to accepting responsibility for your actions? Don't we teach that any more?

In the first incident a Virginia police officer and his fiance died, she might have lived if someone had bothered to report the accident right away. She bled to death from her injuries. In the second accident an 85 year old grandfather died. They weren't murdered in the legal sense, the charges will probably be vehicular manslaughter with a few other drug and alcohol charges thrown in. The drivers have pled "not guilty" as is their right. After all, this is just a case of "good" young men and women who have made a mistake, they shouldn't have to pay for it the rest of their lives. Besides, the parents of the drivers have apologised to the victims families, on TV no less, where we could all hear it. Doesn't that just make you feel better?

We are a society that claims to be tough on crime. We don't want the crack heads in our neighborhoods stealing our things so that they can buy drugs. We don't want the gang wars going on that result in death and injury to rival members. So, will someone explain to me why middle class kids can party with booze and drugs, run people down and leave them to die without being considered a criminal? What part of getting tough on crime doesn't include this type of crime?

Yesterday was the 10th birthday of my grandson and a small party was given at Youngest's house. There is so much I've missed lately. I'm there physically but some part of me isn't connected to the event. I'm going throught the motions, but there is little pleasure in what I'm experiencing. You do it, but you don't experience it on any real level. It's a bit like hearing a joke that everyone else thinks is the most hilarious thing they've heard in years and you just think it's something to smile about. I didn't want to spoil the party, but I didn't want to be there either. Fortunately it was just immediate family members and my grandson's best friend. Grandson chose a trip to Water Safari in Old Forge rather than a party with entertainment and lots of kids. So, it was just a small cook out with cake and ice cream. My kind of party right now. This is my grandson, I wouldn't miss it. Besides, I like to visit with my little buddy Merlin, one of their family dogs. We had an experience with him that was out of the ordinary, and it provided me with my very own 4 legged fur bearing shadow.

What is normal Merlin behavior is 5 minutes of a very excited dog greeting me and then going off to play with Dakota. He usually will come back to me periodically for an ear rub or a neck scratch but then it's off to the races. All of this is accompanied by someone trying to get Merlin away from me long enough for me to actually get farther into the house than a foot or so from the front door. We do this so much that I know exactly when my granddaughter will say "Merlin, let Grandma sit down". Yesterday was so strikingly different that everyone noticed and commented on it.

Some of the difference could be attributed to being outside rather than in the house, but Merlins behavior was definitely strange. The entire yard is fenced in with a second section fenced off for the dogs. Merlin was in the second section and as soon as we arrived started going up and down the fence to find a spot where I was visible to him. Tail was wagging and he was excited so I went in to the dog yard and of course did our usual greeting. I went to leave and he started whimpering and crying as if he was in pain. It was so shocking that my daughter in law came in to check on him. He has hip dysplasia and a seizure disorder, so it is necessary to check him out for this. We couldn't find anything wrong, but as soon as I tried to go back through the gate he'd start again. We finally had to leave the gate open, Merlin stayed with me and Dakota their other dog spent his time trying to get Merlin to come play. Dakota was not happy with me.

Daughter in law plans on calling the vet today to have him checked out just in case of a problem, which since his behavior was so different I think is necessary. On the other hand, my newly 10 year old grandson in all his wisdom, has declared that Merlin behaved like that because Grandma needed him. Out of the mouth of babes. I spent most of the party talking with my grandkids and petting Merlin or talking to Dakota. It relieved everyone else of the necessity to say something about the death of my Dad, or to ask how I was doing. That's not to say I didn't join in to the adult conversations, but it was an easier situation on me all the way around, and I did stay connected and there the entire 3 or so hours. When it came time to leave, Merlin went to the car with us and didn't start his crying when I got in. I'm hoping this is not what will happen every time I go there, but for yesterday I appreciate the diversion and I think I'll take him a treat the next trip.

When Dad first died, I was really angry at his place of employment. His whole terrible journey started with a fall on their premises and they weren't willing to help out with medical expenses. How an employer approaches the insurance company plays a large part in how long the insurance company fights paying for the bills. I saw that with our own company and my Stepmothers fall. She wasn't even in the home of the client, hadn't actually arrived yet. Tripped on curbing near the sidewalk, fell, broke her wrist and damaged her rotator cuff. There was a problem in the beginning as to whether she was going to be approved, and our boss spoke at the meeting and she had approval for everything. According to my boss, she told the insurance company representative that this was a valuable employee that needed to receive care in order for her to return to work. So, did Dad's company not do the same for him?

When I suggested to my stepmother after Dad was gone that she ask the lawyer to look into the possibility of having the employers insurance company pay some of the bills. Her response was that Dad would kill her for that. It wasn't necessary because the hospital settled for what Medicare paid for when they found out that he had no estate to place a claim against. Even if she had all those bills to pay without enough money to pay for them she still wouldn't have talked to a lawyer because Dad would kill her for that. I was frustrated with her because this is an adult female of 70 who is not doing something because Dad would kill her for that and Dad is dead. Was he this paragon of virtue that we conduct ourselves according to his lights even after he's dead?

Oh hell no....we were afraid of him. For many years...too many years...of my life he was a mean, miserable abusive drunk. He was the roughest toughest son of a bitch to come down the pike. Those were his words, along with 'You don't have to like me but you damn well will respect me". I loved him, I hated him. There were years when I would not have anything to do with him and when he would stop drinking I would go back like a lamb. Each time hoping and praying that things would be different, that he would stop abusing us. Each time, for awhile, things would be different and just when you let your guard down...Brother Bourbon would come calling. He was a decent man...when he was sober.

He taught us to stand up for what we believe in. He taught us to fight for what we felt was right. He gave us the knowledge that if something was worth doing, it was worth doing right. He made us understand that your word was your bond in life, when you give it you damn well better own it. He taught us that we would have nothing given to us in life, we had to earn it. He taught us that crying about something wasn't going to solve your problem, yet he tried to drown his in booze. We wanted his approval, and he would tell us that if we did the job right...we didn't need it. We were to approve of ourselves.

He quit drinking when I was 49. He became the Dad I wanted and didn't have. All the pride he had in each of us for our accomplishments started showing. He always had that pride, he would never allow us to see it, but others outside of the family knew because he would tell them. I learned that what I considered abuse, the boys saw as tough love. He never physically abused me, never laid a hand on me, but I would watch him discipline the boys who were all younger than me and my heart would bleed for them. I wanted to protect them from someone that they didn't want or need protection from. They all say that if Dad had been softer on them none of them would have amounted to a hill of beans. Live and learn, live and learn.

He taught us that tears were a sign of weakness, and much of what he taught us was right, but Dad was wrong about that. When we cut into our body, we bleed. Sometimes we bleed for a short time, sometimes for longer than we care to. Grief is an emotional wound, and tears are the blood we shed from those wounds. They don't solve the problem, they just wash away much of the stress that prevents you from healing. Sorry Dad, I'm giving myself permission to cry so that my wounds will be washed clean and allowed to heal. So, you going to kill me for that? Too bad, it's what I need and I don't need your approval for that.

This is what's been happening in my life.

1. My Mom was seriously ill for years and she died March 21 of 2006.
2. On July 9th of 2006 my Dad fell and fractured his hip. The resulting infections and his age caused his death on May 2, 2007.
3. In April of 2007 my daugter-in-law, the youngest one, had what was originally planned on being a laproscopic gall bladder surgery, unfortunately something went wrong and she spent 6 days in the hospital, coming home just a few days before my Dad died.
4. In June, youngest stepsons appendix burst and he underwent emergency surgery for it and treatment for the resulting peritonitis.
5. In July, oldest daughter in law was found to have a breast lump, removal of the lump was necessary, further testing has shown it was benign.
6. Also in July, oldest stepson experienced a very painful back injury that left him unable to walk for a day or so. That was frightening.
7. Youngest stepdaughter now has infectious diarrhea from a protozoan she ingested either through water or someplace we have no idea about. She works in the school system at the cafeteria and the doctor has said she can't go back to work until this is resolved. Because of the time she took off for the surgery, they will not allow her any more time and have asked for her resignation.
8. After 17 years of living here we have to move. The park is being closed.

Due to all the other problems we've encountered, I have not had time to grieve the death of my Dad which occured too close to the death of my Mom to start out with. His illness began in the middle of my grief process and it has remained interrupted. And during all this time, I have not been dealing with things as well as I could have. Granted that's understandable, however, this type of behavior leads to heart attacks and strokes. I'm not taking care of me. I thought I was through blogging, but it isn't everything I could be doing for myself.

I need to work through my feelings instead of trying to avoid them through having fun. I haven't been doing that, and I am going to start, but it feels like whining to me and I find that very difficult. I have some changes to make and am not sure what will work, so if anyone has any experience along these lines please share. Now, I am going out to mow the lawn in the sunshine which will give me 45 minutes of exercise and give me the feeling of accomplishment that I need right now. Finally, a problem that I can fix. You have no idea how good these little victories actually feel.