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 |   My journey through (and beyond) the valley with Cancer as my companion. |
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Dear Friend: This is not a Blog about writing! (I already have one of those.) This is a blog about a journey I am taking with illness. I have recently been diagnosed with Cancer. My goal is honest therapy as I progress through, and beyond this new reality in my life. I hope that, somewhere along the way you will find some words that will help you too. While this is, in fact, an interactive Blog, I hope that you will scroll slowly down this page. For you see, the front of this Blog IS my journey. The entries are conversations that are held along the journey.Yes, there is a lot on it--before actually getting to the Blog entries. But, I hope that by the objects and words which appear before the Blog itself, you might come to understand just a little bit about me, and my journey, and some truly amazing friends who have agreed to journey with me. I hope that you, too, will choose to accompany me on my walk--through the Valley. I invite you to join me, and discover the wondrous truths, meet some truly amazing people, and share those "memorable" moments this journey will undoubtedly present. Come along, won't you? In His Care, ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Would you like to help me help others? I found this amazing organization, and I am proud to be a sponsor. I hope you will check it out. It's called The Network For Good.  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "RISUS OMNIA - INCRUMENTUS PER DEDECUS - SAPIENTIA PER DAMNUM" ("Every thing is funny - Growth through humiliation - Wisdom through loss") ~Leunig~ The hilltop hour would not be half so wonderful if there were no dark valleys to traverse. ~Helen Keller~ "If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people." ~Virginia Woolf~ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "There is strength in truth." ~The Barton Family Crest~ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** “Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.” — Helen Keller, American social activist, public speaker and author (1880-1968) I have moved the list of my thanks for those who have helped to make this little Blog so very special. I hope that you will take a moment to read the list, growing every day, and let these fellow travellers along this journey know that you appreciate the contributions they make to our walk together.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." James 1:2-4 ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Please feel free to click on the Blog Rings icon below to be transported to some of the very best of the Best Bloggers around WDC. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** If you are new to WDC, or to our Blogging community, I highly recommend the monthly edition of "The Blogville News". Feel free to click below, and let scarlett_o_h know that a Blogger sent ya! Hey! We've started a Christian's Blog Ring on WDC. Click on the logo, and join us! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Budroe
 Ring LeaderI have three publications at the moment. Here is a link to purchase my latest one. Buy a great read, and help a fellow writer out, Okay?  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| I do not know who said it first, quite frankly. But, it is of importance to my life in these moments, so I will liberate the words, with apologies as necessary. "It is not the life we have left to live which matters, but rather the living of our life in every day we have that matters." A few posts ago, at "Invalid Entry" , I began a discussion that I now will continue. I began this discussion in the telling of what was, up to that moment, one of the most singularly difficult tasks I have ever been asked to perform in my life. I was incorrect on one point, which is the nature of this post. Recently, I was compelled to admit to myself that I was unable to continue my life as I knew it. I was then (and am now) unable to provide for my own living. Because of the generosity (financial and otherwise) of friends both here at WDC and in my "world", I had created a bare-bones survival situation that was degrading daily. It was a process that could only lead to further degradation, humiliation, and loss of those most important independencies which we all treasure as belly button kids. While the fact was brought to my attention by well-meaning friends, it did nothing to assuage those myriad feelings which did, and do, roil within me. But, there is a very particular notion in my situation which was not present in the earlier tribulation. I had no person to call to come and get me. If I did, there was no treatment available, and nowhere to go. This situation was not going to fix itself. The government was not forthcoming in what I consider to be a simple request. The frustrations of the difficulties were (and are) keeping me at a completely unacceptable stress level. Debts, from a completely debt-free life situation, began in earnest in October of 2006. They continue to mount with each passing day. What had been, for years, the joy of life and of living has somehow transmuted into a depressive state that leads me to believe at times as if the very worst thing that could possibly have happened on that memorable day did happen: I survived. There is a great difficulty in seeing possibility in such moments as this, my friends. Now, I am not seeking (nor would I accept) sympathy. Caring friends, concerned with my situation, have kept me (quite literally) alive in these past weeks and months. I cannot tell you of the devotion and dedication so many have found within themselves to give to me, with no expectation of return. Losing independence is a major disadvantage when one comes to terms with a terminal illness. Every loss must be grieved. Every failure to provide even those simplest of life's necessities must be registered and accounted for. I have long said that dying is not so tough. Heck, everybody does it once. And, you don't even have to DO anything. Leaving, on the other hand, is "an equine of quite a different hue". As the journey continues, imagine taking role call not of your responsibilities, or your body parts. Imagine taking stock of your ability to feed, clothe, bathe, and move yourself. Can I write today? Can I even remember what it is I wish to say? Can I say it well enough? Will it make sense? What must I do today? What difficulties must I manage today that did not exist yesterday? Are they feeling "put upon"? Am I being a good guest today? A good friend? A good person? Am I merely spreading the misery to those who deserve it least? (You'd be surprised at how far a person will go to avoid that reality!) What will I find that I cannot do today? The list is purely endless, and the ramifications of having such a list may, while completely necessary, take entirely too much of that day's joy. When you are a loved one, or care giver, the cost is immense upon you. But, I can now report without any fear of successful contradiction that being the patient at such times as these is truly astounding. Pride, arrogance, and pure stubbornness (whether real or imagined by yourself or others) creates the strangest dynamics I have ever experienced. In direct relation to that comes the words of a friend: "I'm coming to get you." I don't know how many different times, and/or how many different ways, I have said to one friend or another, "I can't come to you!" My heart wishes it were not so, but my body leaves me no other available answer. The failure is mine, and I do accept it. This is very much not the preferred manner of beginning again--again. "I'm coming to get you." No discussion. No fanfare. No emoting. And, no negotiation. In my Sister Lyn's situation, she had someone to ask. In my situation, I had no alternative, and no response save "Thank you!" I, too had to wait until help arrived. It was not that help had not been offered. It was merely a confluence of circumstance which made that particular statement a fact. We are a testy bunch, aren't we? We struggle, we hide, we fail our friends by not allowing them to realize and respond to our needs. And, we feel beholden. We begin keeping track of accounts, and scores. We get testy. We become purely unsociable. We become brats! I am now being relocated, in phases, to a different state. I am living with dear friends who not only provide for my care and comfort, but do so with every expectation that today has within it life very much worth the living. They give with love, and with respect. I am looking forward to some projects which will allow me to contribute to their benevolence. Medical, legal, social and many other issues are being dealt with carefully, cautiously, and with my full participation and cooperation. Yet, and nevertheless, there is one underpinning reality which I still have not found a way to accept: I could not provide these realities for myself. I know today how my Sister felt that day. I have had the unique opportunity to view the moment from both perspectives. There is much more about this which could (and, perhaps should) be written. But, there is nothing more to be said. I am grateful beyond my ability to express for the kindness of so many as this journey continues. But, a few days ago, there was a completely perceptible change of direction which I had not truly anticipated, nor invited. The good news is that I am dealing with those changes as best I can. I do feel utterly incompetent, but I am trying as I can to lend my weight to the tasks at hand. An amputee has a point to show: Some wounds are much more visible than others. What the heart can endure is nothing short of amazing. What I have lost is not quite so visible. That is a truth. This must be addressed, and dealt with. I am trying. It's not easy, nor pretty. But, it is an absolute necessity. These things stand between where I am, and the joy of being there. It will take some time, and much more than I can see of my own ability. Endurance is now at a decided premium. But what I have gained is visible. There is much living in each and every day that is good, and joyous, and of the greatest merit. And, even here in this new shade of darkness, as I continue the journey through the valley, I am reminded that every step is, after all, one step closer to Home. I am reassured that I am not alone in much more than the simply physical way. That is important, too. Life has joy. "My Grace is sufficient for you today!" I do truly believe that. I am trying to live every bit of it. I hope you are, too. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Friends: My pal Patrick, from over at Patrick's Place, has come up with a marvelous idea. I want to participate, and I thought you might like to participate, too. You can find his Blog here: http://www.patrickkphillips.com/ We all know the value of blogging. We all know the community that is served BY blogging. But, if you are like me, the activities required in creating, maintaining, and staying current with all the Blogs <looks left in sad disgust> can be a bit of a challenge. This idea has two parts for me. The first part is to visit and comment on 25 Blogs in one day. I'm talking about substantive comments here. While it's wonderful to know that friends have stopped by with a footprint, this is for serious comments (or, as serious as makes sense, anyway!) Up to two comments per Blog count. The second part, and the part that excites me just a bit, is the notion of commenting on Blogs outside our usual domain. Patrick's Place is a superb place to start. The community of bloggers that follows Patrick is wide. So, I'm thinking of a second-level activity as well. Not only to comment on 25 blogs, but to additionally make comments on another 25 Blogs that you have never visited before--here or anywhere else. Patrick has set his activity for this coming Sunday. I'm going to be moving this coming Sunday. But, I will still try to get 50 blog comments completed during that time. I hope you will take up this little challenge, and help us renew our excitement by visiting new bloggers. So, how about it? Do it, and let me know how it goes, okay? It's all part of the party we call bloggin'.  In His Care, and Yours, Budroe |
| YEAYY!! Reflections on a year. My goodness, and what a year it has been. For all of you who have been here, and know the overwhelming feelings that I have just experienced as I got an email from SM telling me "Happy Birthday!" (How I learned it was my Birth Day on WDC), I'm feeling sort of gut-punched, and punch-drunk--all at the same time! One year ago today, and exactly one month (to the day!) before my "event", I signed onto WDC for the first time. Wow! You talk about an entirely different life! LOL debsey was the first person to welcome me to WDC. {User:kenzie) was the first to give me something called GPs, and a review, too. Interestingly enough, Deb's future husband, {user:scribbler1962} was my first official WDC "friend". Boy, Howdy! Have those two kids been my friend! Tor was the first to mention a blog to me, and Deb wouldn't shut up about it. I was excited, and so nervous to be among this crowd. I came here to learn how to be a better writer, while still a member of a couple of really premiere writing sites. Little did I know. I was working hard on completing the Ph.D. in Information Technology. I was creating a new company, and beginning the final edit on a book. Things were crankin' right along. The friendship, the mateship, the genuine care and compassion--and the love I have lived here has just been amazing--which is an inappropriate word, but close. My bloggin' buddies came, one by one, and I was so happy when I got to visit those few awesome Blogs every day. I actually entered (silly me) a contest with the first work I posted here: "First Apples" won the daily Word Cramp. Lord, I thought it was a Pulitzer! Nine storylines later...yep, nine. I didn't know how to find a favorite, much less store one. I'll tell you the truth, now. I had to log out, and log back in every time I wanted to look at my email. Do you know that my list of friends on this journey, just on the WDC site, is now over 200? zwisis, one of those strange, heavenly beings called "Blue Case" said she would pray for me. This was long before the "event". I somehow knew she was completely serious. I know now that she had been for a while. E E Coder   invited me to something called a "group". Ernie, I swear I looked for it for 11 days! But, I finally made it. I met Scarlett, and Nada, and Tor, and Dan, and Gardengirl, and...and they became my friends. Long before they conscripted to the journey. They encouraged and supported me, and still do to this day. It's a bit foggy at the moment to remember exact events in sequence. But, I do know this. I am a completely different person, and a better person for having been here a year. I don't know that I can truly say I am a better writer. I know I am a busier writer, for sure. LOL And, friends from other parts of my life have come here to be with me, as well. Some friends I have made here have moved on to other things, places, and lives. They are still my friends, and I love them. And, as the friends maintain, and grow on what now is truly a journey, it feels to me as though the throngs are so deep I cannot see beyond them. I now administer an Academy of writing excellence with over 35 staff and faculty, and nearly 1,000 students who are all becoming my friends, too. Did I tell you that SM sent me a personal note for my 1st birthday? He didn't have to do that. I got the official birthday card from support, and I love it. But, SM said "Happy Birthday, Bud!" You see, what I found here was a group of real people. Hurting, angry, frustrated, potentially completely insane people, just like myself. Writers, writing every day, improving their craft, just like at the other sites. But, here you see, you have all always been people first. You have allowed me access to your privacy, your tears, and the wondrous joy of your laughter. You did not qualify your acceptance of me as a person. You seemed to want to actually help me improve my writing, for certain, but never moreso than your willingness to be my friends. You ARE my friends. You will always BE my friends. I am of the conviction that your truest friends form the jewels in your Heavenly crown. In this past year, I have been given a pure dazzler! Thank you so very, very much. I don't know how much better a writer's life can possibly get than this, where it truly matters most. Now, there is a "child" in the world needing a home. The book which compelled me to write now has a life of its own. Lord, how I wish I could give each of you an autographed copy! (I can't even afford to purchase my own book! Now, is THAT the life of a writer, or not?) But, there is another book that I am thinking about. Beloved, you have made this journey's beginning so wonderful. Pretty ironic thing to say, isn't it! Those who feared so much they stayed away; those who felt the pain too closely; those who felt it vulgar to "air your private laundry in such a tawdry manner"; those who just dared not try--have each and every one cheated themselves out of the truth of this moment. But for you, this moment would surely not exist, beloved friends. You have helped me sleep, and feel calm in the storm. You have held me up in battle. You have lent me your ear, and your heart, and yourselves. You have made it possible for me to put food on my table. You have provided me shelter, and safety. I feel sort of guilty at this moment, because to me this celebration is so very much yours, and about you. I feel quite certain that, just as you have done in such overwhelming kindness for me, you would do for anyone else. That's what makes me somewhat sad for those who chose another journey. Because, the one consistent truth I have seen here is that you would just as quickly do for any other as you have done for me. And, when it matters most, you even humble yourselves and let me at least try to do in like manner for you. I am so very grateful for you. I do not know what this next WDC year may hold, but I do not need to. In this moment, and just for this moment, I'm having a birthday! You are invited to the party! After all, you are the ones that made it possible! Thanks just so very, very much. I love you all. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe Write Well! Bud M. B. "Bud" Fields, Jr. Clarksville, Indiana USA ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** http://www.lulu.com/content/1220640 |
| Friends: I have a need to write these words. For those who know me, that is a significant clue about the words to be written. These are real words, but they are hard words. Difficult words that are so only because they are real words. To my mind, my heart, and my soul, they are important words. I have been called to many difficult tasks in my lifetime. I am now called to another. This is a story about one of them from my past, and how it relates to my present, and my future. On a day in January, 1998, I received a call from my dear Sister, Lyn. At the time, she was well past the two-year mark on a journey with Cancer. Her journey, of all the members of my beloved family, was at that point the longest journey any of us had taken. I was her primary care giver. I lived, interestingly enough, 148 miles away from her. My home was the end-point of her weekly travels to Chemotherapy treatments. After her treatments, she would come to my house to rest, and recover. Then, I would drive her to her home, spend a day or so, and return to my home, job, and life. We had been on a journey of stubborn defiance. She knew that the journey, from as many experiences with our family as I, required the "giving up" of ground in small, but ever more-often skirmishes. For those of you called upon this journey, this is a story for you. I hope you will find in it some understanding of the battles this journey requires of you as you, too, fight your skirmishes, holding actions, and strategic withdrawals. It is entirely common for those of us on this journey, and I do not believe we speak of them fairly, or nearly often enough. This is my attempt. Because, I am fighting just such a skirmish myself. Lyn's "Call to Arms" was her battle cry: "Well, honey! This battle may have a pre-determined conclusion, but you best believe me. There WILL BE a battle!" On this particularly chill, clear January day in Kentucky, war was being waged. You see, we who are on this journey often do not finish the journey quickly. We are given the blessing, the honor, the privilege, and the call to finish this battle in small degrees. So it was with my Sister Lyn. So it is, too, with me. Lyn had fought valiantly, yet forced to withdraw from the battle of complete independence. For her, this was not only the most dreaded battle, but the one most fiercely fought. We truly thought it entirely possible that, when she inevitably lost this first mighty battle, she would count it as the complete loss. We feared she would simply give up, and die. We truly need not have been concerned on that particular score. Yes, as it was pre-determined from the day that previous day when the Doctor uttered those world-stopping words, she did have to withdraw from the battle for her independence. I never knew a more independent person in my life, with the possible exception of my Mother, and my Paternal Grandmother. So, at least she came from good stock! On this day, however, it was not my valiant warrior Sister on the phone. It was a hurt, and very frightened cancer patient reaching out for help in a desperate time. I am so very glad she did, but I had no idea how she possibly found the strength to do it. She was scheduled for a very important, and particularly vulgar Chemotherapy treatment that day. Her call was to inform me that she did not feel capable of driving herself the miles to the Hospital. She didn't know what to do. As she cried, I felt her bend and, for the briefest moment, break. My soul screamed with my pain. My anger at this disease had no equal in that moment. The utter shattering of my heart, into millions of crystalline shards of despair, never to be re-assembled by man or God, was smothering. I could scarcely breathe. Because I did not know what to say, I said nothing. "Well, my Bezerko Brother, I guess this puts it in a whole new ballpark, doesn't it?" "Well, Sist, I guess it just might, at that." Before she could fashion a response through the gasps of her body-shaking sobs, I added a response that, I think (but will never be certain on this mortal coil) worked. "Don't worry about it, Sissy. I know the guy that owns this ballpark. He'll get us in, and even give us the very best seats in the place." "You SWARE, Broth?" That was a secret phrase we had rehearsed many times. It meant, "I'm so totally scared right now, I don't know if I can handle it. Please tell me we can do this." "I SWARE, Sist!" I drove home to get her, and I brought her to her Chemotherapy. As advertised, it really was the most violent assault on her body in her entire life. She, for the first time, was completely unable to leave the treatment center following the treatment. After receiving some terrifically high-powered, and wonderfully effective medications, and a couple hours of restful sleep, I drove her to my home and put her to bed. The next day, I drove her to her home with one suitcase filled with my clothes. I would never see my home again. One of the most difficult tasks of my life lasted at least four forevers, although only a few hours passed. Driving to my Sister's home to pick her up for her treatment was one of the most difficult tasks of my entire life. I never knew what she experienced as she helplessly awaited my arrival. She knew what it meant, however. Our agreement was that knowledge was power. We could, and would deal with anything we knew. Surprises were verboten, and absolute honesty was the first obligation between us. Between my Sister Lyn and myself, honesty had always come easy. I surely do hope you have known someone in your life that you can say that about. I would certainly venture to guess that you have not known many such people. Honesty, to us, was the well-imagined two-edged sword. I, more often than not, was the one person that would tell Lyn the complete and unvarnished truth about anything. Likewise, she would not hesitate to reveal (like it or don't--that's her term, incidentally!) [I love you too, Sissy!] the truth to me. When she really needed to know the truth of a matter, or a condition, or a medical term, or a drug, she would ask me. If she didn't, it didn't matter. You who are called upon this journey know that I am speaking directly to your hearts, whether as patient or care-giver, loved one or friend. you KNOW the moments I refer to. These are the "forever" moments of the journey. And, in time, they become the foundational rocks, the stone markers that delineate the twists and tortourous turns of this journey. That's why it is important for me to speak of them. While they are not easy to feel, speak, or live, they are the most important steps we can possibly take on this journey. When it doesn't matter, let it go. But, when it does matter, don't let go until it is finished. No matter what! You see, I was, on that particular journey, the Executioner. I had to deliver the sentence to my Sister. I was the living embodiment of defeat for her. I don't know if you can grasp this reality, but please try--please. The reason she called me was to appoint me to that responsibility. She called me because she knew I would honor the task, and the victim of it. She knew that when I walked through her front door, her days of driving those miles, those miles of peace, and reflection through our beloved hills, were over. I had to make it real for her. I did. She didn't hate me for it. She really didn't have to. There wasn't enough room in the universe for any more hate for that task than I already had. My tears, even now, speak of my unwillingness to forgive that moment. I'm not ashamed of them, and I pray you will not be, either. In fact, for those who have lived this horrid reality, perhaps you can finally let your grief have its release. That, too, happens by degrees. I don't know if the grief ever ends in this life. I don't happen to think so, but sometimes letting your grief have sway makes it more manageable. So, in the infamous call to arms I have enjoined for my battle cry: LET 'ER RIP! Grieve for your loss, and the loss of your loved one. Understand the nature of it, and the complete and perfect sense of it. And, the grace of it. There are several unique instances which occurred that day. When I walked in the door, I saw a Cancer patient. When I walked in the door, my Sister saw her Brother. It was a complete shock for me. It was the first time in my life I saw my Sister helpless. It was also the very first time I realized that, to my beloved Sister, I was ten feet tall, riding a White Stallion, and carrying what would have appeared to be a Jousting Lance. Silver-plated armour was what she saw me wearing. The look of complete relief, and release in her eyes still captivates me to this day. And, then I saw my Sissy. We had some uninterrupted hugging, snottin' and bawlin' time. And, we walked to her car (her rules, remember), arm in arm. This time, however, she entered from the passenger side. I became not only her Knight, but the Captain of her ship. You may think me hallucinogenic--unless you have had such a moment. Then, you completely undertand the truth of these words. I was not only an Executioner that day. I was her hero. When she couldn't, I did. On the trip to the Hospital, there were a few other rare occurrences. Lyn had never sat in the passenger's seat of her rather luxurious vehicle. She saw things she didn't know she had in that car, including a completely empty glove compartment. You would have to have known Lyn to realize the utter shock of that statement. Anything in her world which could contain, hold, store, or keep, did. One amazing instance was that, for the entire trip, we probably said fewer than 100 total words. Not our usual "take-an-ride!". But, for the entire trip (and beyond) I never let go her hand. Had we met with mortal dysfunction along the trek, they couldn't have pried our hands apart with the Jaws of Life! Not many words, but volumes for the ages were shared. That was a very difficult trip for me. It was a very difficult trip for her. It was one of the few times in my life when I had that particular task to do. It is one I will surely remember forever and ever. Heaven itself will not erase the moments of that journey. Tomorrow, I'll tell you why that matters. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| For those who must deal with the technicalities, vagarities, and boredom of regulation enforcement, here is a story which should (I hope) lighten your load just a bit. This story was sent to me by my friend Rod, who lives in Indiana--via my friend kathy, who lives in Texas. No internet taxes were paid in the mailing, sending, or receiving of this story. Everybody knows that we are a nation of laws. As citizens, it is our sworn obligation to observe, respect, and follow those laws. We have the right to openly, publicly, and sometimes even vociferously argue against those laws as we attempt to change them to laws we feel are more fair. But, sometimes, it's fun to play with the laws--just because you can. Here then, for all who live with laws, and deal with them on a daily basis, is the whole dam story. First, the letter: This letter was sent to respondent Ryan DeVries, of Trout Run, Pennsylvania by the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Quality: SUBJECT: DEQ File No.97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County Dear Mr. DeVries: It has come to the attention of the Department of Environmental Quality that there has been recent unauthorized activity on the above referenced parcel of property. You have been certified as the legal landowner and/or contractor who did the following unauthorized activity: Construction and maintenance of two wood debris dams across the outlet stream of Spring Pond. A permit must be issued prior to the start of this type of activity. A review of the Department's files shows that no permits have been issued. Therefore, the Department has determined that this activity is in violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated. The Department has been informed that one or both of the dams partially failed during a recent rain event, causing debris and flooding at downstream locations. We find that dams of this nature are inherently hazardous and cannot be permitted. The Department therefore orders you to cease and desist all activities at this location, and to restore the stream to a free-flow condition by removing all wood and brush forming the dams from the stream channel. All restoration work shall be completed no later than January 31, 2006 . Please notify this office when the restoration has been completed so that a follow-up site inspection may be scheduled by our staff. Failure to comply with this request or any further unauthorized activity on the site may result in this case being referred for elevated enforcement action. We anticipate and would appreciate your full cooperation in this matter. Please feel free to contact me at this office if you have any questions. Sincerely, David L. Price District Representative and Water Management Division Included with the letter were two photograhs of the offending edifice: Here's the first dam picture: ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Now, let's remember something folks. Someone had to arrive, prior to the creation by or for Mr. Price of the above-captioned letter, okay? It is presumed that said same person who arrived to investigate the complaint was the same person who took these photos. As per the caption, I would find it entirely reasonable to presume said person(s) unknown were employed by, or contracted to the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Quality. Perhaps they even were assigned to work in the Water Management Division--along with Mr. Price, even. Maybe. With that in mind, here is, then, the second dam picture: ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** And here, for you edification, is the official response to the letter, via the hand of the respondent, Ryan DeVries: Re: DEQ File No. 97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County Dear Mr. Price, Your certified letter dated 12/17/05 has been handed to me to respond to. I am the legal landowner but not the Contractor at 2088 Dagget Lane , Trout Run, Pennsylvania . A couple of beavers are in the (State unauthorized) process of constructing and maintaining two wood "debris" dams across the outlet stream of my Spring Pond. While I did not pay for, authorize, nor supervise their dam project, I think they would be highly offended that you call their skillful use of natures building materials "debris." I would like to challenge your department to attempt to emulate their dam project any time and/or any place you choose. I believe I can safely state there is no way you could ever match their dam skills, their dam resourcefulness, their dam ingenuity, their dam persistence, their dam determination and/or their dam work ethic As to your request, I do not think the beavers are aware that they must first fill out a dam permit prior to the start of this type of dam activity. My first dam question to you is: (1) Are you trying to discriminate against my Spring Pond Beavers, or (2) do you require all beavers throughout this State to conform to said dam request? If you are not discriminating against these particular beavers, through the Freedom of Information Act, I request completed copies of all those other applicable beaver dam permits that have been issued. Perhaps we will see if there really is a dam violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated. I have several concerns. My first concern is, aren't the beavers entitled to legal representation? The Spring Pond Beavers are financially destitute and are unable to pay for said representation -- so the State will have to provide them with a dam lawyer. The Department's dam concern that either one or both of the dams failed during a recent rain event, causing flooding, is proof that this is a natural occurrence, which the department is required to protect. In other words, we should leave the Spring Pond Beavers alone rather than harassing them and calling their dam names. If you want the stream "restored" to a dam free-flow condition please contact the beavers -- but if you are going to arrest them, they obviously did not pay any attention to your dam letter, they being unable to read English. In my humble opinion, the Spring Pond Beavers have a right to build their unauthorized dams as long as the sky is blue, the grass is green and water flows downstream. They have more dam rights than I do to live and enjoy Spring Pond. If the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection lives up to its name, it should protect the natural resources (Beavers) and the environment (Beavers' Dams). So, as far as the beavers and I are concerned, this dam case can be referred for more elevated enforcement action right now. Why wait until 1/31/2006 ? The Spring Pond Beavers may be under the dam ice then, and there will be no way for you or your dam staff to contact/harass them then. In conclusion, I would like to bring to your attention to a real environmental quality, health, problem in the area. It is the bears! Bears are actually defecating in our woods. I definitely believe you should be persecuting the defecating bears and leave the beavers alone. If you are going to investigate the beaver dam, watch your step! The bears are not careful where they dump! Being unable to comply with your dam request, and being unable to contact you on your dam answering machine, I am sending this response to your dam office. RYAN DEVRIES & THE DAM BEAVERS Friends: Sometimes (but, only sometimes!) it's not because you should. It's not even because you shouldn't. Sometimes, it's just because you can! In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| I gotta tell ya, I'm pretty beat. It's just a momentary thing, but I'm lookin' circumstances right square in the face. Should I give you my rant of the day? No. Should I tell you how much I am learning about marketing? No. Should I tell you that I may be moving--in less than one week? No. Will I? Probably. So many have done so very much in my world of late. We now have (at last count, which must be done very quickly with folks leaving at the last minute--a rant of the future)36 members of staff and faculty at A-1 Writing Academy, who will combine to present over 1,000 students some 26 courses of instruction on all aspects, levels, and descriptions of writing. For 12 consecutive weeks, we will shepherd over 300 (312, if everybody delivers 100%) lessons and individual learning opportunities to our student members: umm I think that is 312,000 learning experiences! (It's Writing, NOT Math, Y'all!) And, that's if we reach my predicted 1,000 by October 13th. We could reach, or (thanks to the generosity of SM/SMs) somewhere closer to 2,500! Man, if that happens, I'm going to need just a whole GANG of Instructors in December. Okay, I shall rant. Warned, you have been, Padewani. We are one week from beginning. As of today, we have seven days until the Fall Quarter begins. Courses have been created, developed, tested, evaluated, revised, and certified. Faculty and staff have been hired, trained, prepared, and placed. They have been, for the most part, working like bank mules to meet this deadline. Courses are posted. The Catalogue is live, and lively. Members are enrolling, and paying tuition. Students are registering for the three course limit, and paying course fees without hesitation. Course rosters are filling to the seat limits established by the faculty for their courses. Many more are coming each day to what we do believe will be the most incredible learning opportunity on the net. Having traveled this journey with us since June, today would seem to be the most appropriate time to do, umm, what exactly? Rest, and find a sense of satisfaction with the accomplishmnent of legendary report? Perhaps. Relax, and survey your course with a renewed sense of vision, and vitality? Sounds like a plan. No. Today would be the best day, it would seem to walk away from classrooms full of students, activities which depend upon your participation, and a group of dedicated faculty members who have given as much to you as to the preparation of their courses over these past weeks. Four today, and nine this week. That's 13 with 10 in the past two days. First of all, our courses are secure. There was not one surprise in the lot. The only surprise was the timing. Secondly, I get a sense of calm from knowing that I did read correctly, from the very beginning. And, incidentally: To the one course instructor/staff member who is intending on "dropping the bomb" on me in the next day or two" about your sudden unwillingness to honor your commitment to me, your colleagues, the Academy, and the course full of students you are about to walk away from? I know who you are. I know what you intend to do. And, just so you can report back to your puppet-master: I also know precisely what you intend to do when you leave. It will fail, by the way. Your leader is a bit unprepared to face the realities about to befall your little plan. But, to you all, I have but one question. I honestly ask it, because I simply am not capable of fathoming the answer. So, any honest answer would be most appreciated. If you have the intestinal fortitude, you can even answer it here, although I must tell you I absolutely do not believe that will happen. Please tell me. Given your disdain for me as an automatic, with no penalty whatsoever; and given your complete intentions to harm the good name of the A-1 Writing Academy as a given, solely for the purpose of bringing unnecessary disrepute to your recent colleagues; and given your insideous betrayal of the very principles we agreed upon when we began this little exercise as NOT being the definitive declaration of your personal merit-- How do you find it within yourself to walk away from these students, who have done absolutely nothing--save want to learn? That, I must confess, I do not now, nor will I ever understand. I know you believe that you will wile them away to your little attempt to replicate the Academy, and that you fully intend to do so while besmirching the name OF the Academy whose students you are attempting to steal--in the process. But, do you not realize that these same students are the standing witnesses of the betrayal you have perpetrated? These are they you have failed in the first place. They are the insignificant fodder you have walked through on your way to the exit door. You have clearly shown them their worth to you. Do you honestly think your words, later, will overcome your actions, now? Do you not realize that this thinking is why you could not possibly sustain your position at the Academy in the first place? That this twisted sense of morality you taut is the very poison we, as an entire group, dedicated ourselves to eliminate? You who have left have indicted yourselves! And, you have created your own legacy! And, that legacy is now, and will forever be imprinted upon the hearts and minds, and eyes of those very students whom you today have betrayed. The Academy has done precisely what it was said we would do. Those who remain are the champions of those who will come. Our growth is assured, because of your deceit. You could not prevent it, and we never would allow it. Our courses, our facutly and staff, and our students will withstand your pitiable decisions. You have chosen poorly. I just do not understand how you could never see, much less understand that. I just truly do not. Do you not understand that by your attempt to destroy what you could not live up to, you have insured it's existence, and condemned yourselves in the process? That is the part I most truly do not understand. This is an example of belly buckon behavior that I will confess has me purely--stumped. Any reasonable attempt at an explanation would be most appreciated. Justification or rationalizations need not bother. Flames will be extinguished. And, further the rantee saith not. The book is now available, and I am slowing bringing the marketing which was more than one year in the making into reality. But, in the process, I am also learning things I never knew existed. Did you all, ferinstance, know there was such a thing as a "virtual book signing"? I learned that today. I also set up a very special limited edition run of special cover, autographed copies of the book that will be available at a higher, but very respectable price, for a very short time. This will be a numbered autograph series. I am setting up the page for that activity now, and will let you know how to participate soon. Things are at the end of the line here at my little house. I desperately hoped I would be able to create the opportunity to stay here, because of those places I could be, this place is where I would like to be. But, I cannot provide for myself here. I owe my landlady, who has blessed me beyond her sacrificial limit, too much money which, at least at the moment, I have no hope of repaying in the short term. Disability, if ever, is many months away, and I cannot support myself, provide my own most basic needs, or continue to exist without interventive assistance. Said assistance does not seem to be appearing any time soon. I am not complaining here, friends. What I am attempting to do is to recognize, face, and deal with reality. Honest, remember? My little house gave me a new future. It gave me a close opportunity to experience a never-ending and unforgettable friendship with some folks who have made every moment of my life worth the journey. I just don't have the gas needed to carry on here. I had a very, very narrow window of opportunity to get the book published, and at least an opportunity to create survivability. I gave it a shot. But, I am way past safety margins. I can't do it. It was an incredible run, for sure. Now, I have one alternative. It requires me to completely move by the end of this week. I don't believe I can get that accomplished. I will have to extend my debt to my wonderful and totally undeserving of this crap landlord by one additional month, and somehow figure out how to move my possessions from my little house to a different state, with zero. I don't have the physical ability, and there is nobody close-at-hand to help. Some friends have made me an offer to provide me a room in their home for a bit, with all the storage room I need for my schtuff. These are the friends I visited with some time ago: you remember them. They are TJ and Jenny: Feester's people. I would trade them some of my services for room and board. Jenny is a terminal care nurse. TJ is a truck driver. I don't have time to consider, and the choice must be made. I have, I guess, made it. It is not as I would wish it to be, by any means. If not for their kindness, I feel relatively certain my future would include outdoor living. Time. Why is it so very suddenly and completely my enemy? This Friday, the Academy begins a new and, I do sincerely hope, illustrious career at WDC. This Friday, I will present some new marketing plans for the first book. This friday, my friends ("All you need is a toothbrush! We'll get the rest later!") will show up to create a forever change in my life, and in my living. There is a deep part of me that is nowhere near ready to face this impending defeat. I am so very grateful for the kindness of those who have sustained me thus far. I am unbelievably grateful for the kindness of those willing to love me into their lives for a time. It's just a matter of time. It's all just a matter of time. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| It is, at the time of this writing, 0246 on September 20, 2007. It's a Thursday, here at my little house. As you might well suspect, having come this far on the journey, it will matter later. For various and sundry reasons, some of which matter, and most of which do not, I have almost gotten 24 consecutive hours off-site! To have accomplished this goal one time, would have made exactly, a total of, umm, ONE time it had been accomplished since I first signed on to WDC on September 28th, 2006. This week, I will celebrate my first birthday anniversary as a member of WDC. Yesterday was a maximum bad day at my little house. As my mystery students will readily recognize, I had multiple crises in every one of my five lives! It was, very quietly, a melt-down kinda day. There have been some issues building up in my brain, and not the least of them has been a blood clot come to visit, inside my brain! Silly thing went looking for some cells to play with, I guess. That got things jumpin' around my little house, I tell ya! Anyway, it made a left turn when it should have turned right, and found a dead end--almost. I got a bit aphasic, where I couldn't get the words out of my mouth right, and my fingers were pretty much a total waste for any coordinated activity. We went to see the White coats on this one. They took pictures. The lost clot waved, with a happy, smiling face for the camera. It held up a note, which read: "Which way to Abilene??", and a grand time was had by all. The little guy seemed to be decked out for assault-style activities. His boots left very sore clot-prints all over my head(ache), with a touch of blinding lightening-strength white spears of pain shooting throughout my body; mostly from the neck up. When I came home, it seemed impossible to accomplish any single task at all, except realize that the "foolproof filters" weren't. One of them failed. As I seem to have this entire "special patient" thing down, I cannot be anesthetized--new filter goes in commando! Yee-Haw! Now, there's a fun time activity for ya, neighbor. Just remember, the next time you are bored outa yer gourd, I got an activity that will bring you to entirely new dimensions of understanding, right within your own physiology--no waiting! Whew! Boy, Howdy! Not even a piece of wood to chew on. I din't much care for that, at all, if you haven't caught the spirit of the post yet. No Siree! Fun we had not! But, did we did! (Sorry Yoda!) For the past few days, I've been dealing with everything that little experiment in basic terror brought to my mind. It has not been friendly, or kind, or gentle. It just, has been. I don't want to go on about that stuff so much here, or so much at the moment. It's not because I'm past it. I assure you I am not. I just do not wish to throw a diatribe up on my Blog at the moment. I'm tired, and I'm downright sore. After 20 hours off-site: 174 new eMails. Let's call it a buck-and-a-half after the unsolicited porn spam. I believe we have touched on this item before. So, I will, again, (See? I'm bein' a good boyee!!) not post a diatribe here. May I just remind you of previous discussions held herein regarding the {i]"Tyranny of the Urgent!" ? So, I did what I could, and took me some time off! If she burns, she burns!! And, as we have discussed before: it only works when you do truly mean it! For the past two days, I've been reflecting on a little project I began on November 1, 2004. I have had a couple of days of some rather intense motivations, regarding several things. So let me at least end THIS post with a spot of Good News! I hope you will share this news with me in the spirit with which it is offered: I'm here. So is Notre Dame! You can buy it here: http://www.lulu.com/content/1220640 So, go buy it, and share in the joy, okay? There are a lot of things this particular publication was not, is not, and will not be. But, there is also one thing that it absolutely is: It is here, too. I had a goal to release during NaNo '07. I decided to release during my WDC Birth Day Week. There's a lot of WDC dedications in this volume. I hope you will buy this volume, in quantity! I'm glad it found a home, and a life here. I hope it finds its way to your home, too. Yes, the SWAG will follow shortly. It will help. And, I will appreciate it. I think you'll get some dynamite reading, as well. We cut a lot of pages, and a lot of price. And it makes a truly wonderful Holiday gift for family, re......well, you know. Seriously, buy the book. Okay? In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| A friend told me this evening that it looked like the journey was done! Nobody's on it. The word "Moribund" came immediately to mind. I'm having a rough spot. I am still on the journey. Even when I cannot submit a post every day, I am still on the journey. I recall the memories, and the laughs, and the great times shared here. But, it's a time requiring silence. I'm okay with that. Have I lost those with me on the journey? My friend says I have. I do hope not, because: You have made the journey. You have also made it bearable. I know how difficult it is convincing someone to begin the journey-again. My friend's statement scared me, because he said it looked like the journey was done; had come to an end. He was being sincere; honest. I was busy being terrified. I get tired of reporting bad news, sadness, or complaints. I think silence is superior to contempt. I think of all those friends who have been with me for these months (one year this month!) and I have so many things I would love to say to them. Some have had life changes even more significant than mine in that time!! Some of the friends along at the start of this journey have gotten married--to each other! They have shown me a most especial kind and depth of love. I have several friends from the journey that I have either known before being called to this journey, or have met in real life since beginning the journey. I wish them peace, and joy, and love, and happiness, and fulfillment beyond their imaginings. I hope they will stay true to the journey, and allow the quiet time to be comfortable, and comforting. Some have disagreed with my positions, and felt offense. Rather than state the offense, they have remained silent. "The Silent Treatment" is a rather notorious enemy to my world. I don't like it even one little bitty Bit. I find it repugnant over any other. Some helpers along this journey have paid me perhaps the greatest honor, with engaged debate. Fiery and opinionated diatribes levelled against my point of view with absolutely wreckless disregard. Thank you for that; I have been honored. For those who may read these words, even when I cannot read yours, know that the very first thing I said is still true: I thank you, and I love you dearly. Even in the comfort of the silence, know that I do keep you in my thoughts, and my prayers. And, friends believe me. As much as myself, and even moreso now that before I do need your prayers. But there are friends along this journey who are dying for lack of them. Please take a moment and just look at some of the names around this blog. I can personally guarantee you that one out of every three names you will find on the left, or in the comments is really and truly in need of your prayers. And if you can't see a name and believe it's them I'm talking about--it's you! I'm still on the journey. I hope that you are too. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| I have been trying to stay calm, and quiet today. I have, for the most part, found success in my endeavor. I did write some today. It's interesting, actually. I know that this particular writing is most likely the one piece that will infuriate more than any other writing I have done. I wrote it anyway. I did not create these words for a particular desire towards angst (mine or yours). I wrote them because they are true. And, where they hold opinion, that opinion belongs entirely to me. I had occasion to recall today the life, and writings of Thomas Paine. Would such a man as he have written these words? Well, of course not! That man could write! But, regardless, he still would have, I believe, issued his thought. Even if broken, or tragically mis-matched to those things gramattically correct, he would have gotten the words out, somehow.
Please, for us all, remember. In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
| I received this from my beloved Cuz, Annie B. yesterday. (Annie, check your AOL mail!) I like the idea of this, very much. So, here it is: Subject: Fly the flag Please join us in this FLY THE FLAG campaign and PLEASE forward this email immediately to everyone in your address book asking them to also forward it. We have a little less than two weeks and counting to get the word out all across this great land and into every community in the United States of America. If you forward this email to least 11 people and each of those people do the same...you get the idea. THE PROGRAM IS THIS: On Tuesday, September 11th, 2007, an American flag should be displayed outside every home, apartment, office, and store in the United States. Every individual should make it their duty to display an American flag on this anniversary of our country's worst tragedy. We do this in honor of those who lost their lives on 9/11, their families, friends and loved ones who continu e to endure the pain, and those who today are fighting at home and abroad to preserve our cherished freedoms. In the days, weeks and months following 9/11, our country was bathed in American flags as citizens mourned the incredible losses and stood shoulder-to-shoulder against terrorism. Sadly, those flags have all but disappeared. Our patriotism pulled us through some tough times and it shouldn't take another attack to galvanize us in solidarity. Our American flag is the fabric of our country and together we can prevail over terrorism of all kinds. o:p Action Plan: So, here's what we need you to do... (1) Forward this email to everyone you know (at least 11 people). Please don't be the one to break this chain. Take a moment to think back to how you felt on 9/11 and let those sentiments guide you. (2) Fly an American flag of any size on 9/11. Honestly, Americans should fly the flag year-round, but if you don't, then at least make it a priority on this day. Thank you for your participation. God Bless You and God Bless America In His Care, and Yours! Budroe |
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