Earnest kind o’ you to say, mate. Thanks for the excellent link. And maybe I can serve some purpose with a paragraph or two of what some have called drivel. But if you knew me in person I might not make the cut, as I am not the man’s man you are, and the likes of bigAl, and..well… I’ve never really ever been all that comfortable in a pub, always preferring the small gathering in somebody’s backyard or streamside. (A littlebit agoraphobic probably, but manageable on the surface.) AND I cannot ease Maya’s pain more than just a little through love’s poetic hypnotics and gallons of the shelftop’s finest creams and lotions. To paint a picture of graft verses host of the skin: Maya was never spanked as a child. When she did wrong by her mom & pop they just looked very cross at her AND didn’t let her drive her quarter midget race car until she understood the ere of her ways. And she grew up to be a warm, kind, well-intended, even-tempered, sporty, way-together woman/wife/mother who saved my soul from damnation on so many occasions with just a look. But now three or four times a night and two or three times a day she endures what she describes as a bad-bad spanking all down her back and legs that lasts up to a paralyzing, weeping, half hour or so until it fades to a dry achy stiffening sunburn feeling that she lives the happy hours with...until the connectivity between her body and the graft cells take. There’s nothing anybody can do but care a lot. And believe that the protocol is working. I don’t know what I had to do with Maya developing blood cancer. Maybe it was that day-long family canoe trip, when the kids were small, that culminated in a thunderstorm which forced us to shore-up under a road bridge where some very strange smelling chemical..dripping down..landed on her and had her retching her guts within a half hour. ..A canoe trip that I arranged. Could be the watershed, could be the air, Doc said she may have carried it all her life, I just don’t know. I do know she and I are in this together and talking each other into persevering one day at a time ..while also trying to formulate a workaday state that can mesh with our 24-hour protocol and day trips to the home away from home.

I’m not sure some of the dbis knows just how spiritual you are, but [to the board] just read the following line ..with a bay window mind:

“damn it man you keep forgetting that they can only 'take' from us if we choose not to 'give'”

Thanx, geshe.

I remember now. & `give` all that and more…until whenever comes ..or whatever