Many. Many. But the ones I want to talk about here are these; a home that's more suitable to our personalities, to have a safe and pleasant trip to Connecticut, to find an old schoolmate, Veronica, and to be able to make my meaning clear when I write.

Those are wishes that have a chance. Others are, of course, that I have a decent relationship with Kenn, that Bud wins the war with Cancer, that I get my book finished this year......

Always, my wishes are with me, even when I am not consciously thinking about them. The breath of them fills every thing I do and every where I go. And many many related thoughts and feelings.

Forrest and I have decided to move one more time. This house and furniture are too formal for us. I want a Spanish house and furniture. Stucco. Maybe build exactly what we want. The problem will be to find the land in the area we want to live. Sort of a pastoral environment. Where the dog can run free and so can we. Lots of wild flowers. A garden. A bird sanctuary. a pond. Fresh air. A wide sky that sparkles at night and turns a clear blue by day. Or sometimes, looks down through clouds. This is fantasy, I know. But what I can have of it, I will. We are both ready to give up all stairs. I want my laundry and exercise equipment on the same level as everything else. Getting too old for running up and down the stairs. Maybe too old to move again? I hope not.

We are taking our trip between May 20 and May30. A side-trip to Brunos, where you can get the best pizza I have ever tasted. We had many when Forrest was working at Purdue. Will see Harriet in Connecticut and John and Debbie and their two adoptive girls. Debbie is looking for a craft show. I really like the craft shows in Connecticut. Some really fantastic artists and craftsmen. My rooms are filled with things I've gotten at craft shows there.

And I want to get to know my grandaughters. I have waited so long for grandchildren. It almost seems unreal.

The writing is suffering right now. But it must. I have been cleaning house. Getting ready for our trip. Getting ready for Scott's graduation activities, the honors banquet, graduation, our family celebration dinner...all on different days, will see Bob, my brother, who is coming tomorrow and will stay for three days. He will stay with Bud but we will get together. So, I'll be creative after our trip. I'll start in again with my book. I have quite a bit already. Think I will publish a chapbook first though. I already have one put together but am thinking about adding a few more poems.

Plans. Plans. Yes. Well, I am grateful to be able to look foreward to the future, for this beautiful spring day, and, yes, even the painful past. Every day of my life has led me to where I am right now, sitting at this desk, hitting these keys, writing these words, finding my own voice. Today life seems good.

Locked out. The theme of my life, I think. I was reminded of it yesterday when I came home after getting my hair cut. The garage opener let me into the garage but the inner door was locked and I had no key. I never lock that door but Forrest had left while I was gone and locked it. I couldn't get in so I drove over to the mall, walked around and tried on clothes. Didn't buy anything and was pooped by the time I got home.

Locked out. Yes. Always, it seems. At work, at home, at play. In situations. Is this my karma? To learn how to be locked out? I have always felt at the edge of life. Watching others live it. Not living it myself. Mostly a spectator. Waiting to start living.

Did not have the privileges afforded the first-born. My brother arrived 10 months after my birth and because he was a boy got to do everything before I did. I remember the summer I wanted a bike for my birthday so I could ride with my friend, Marilyn. I didn't get it because Bud didn't have one yet. I never got to do anything first because I was the oldest. I got to do them last because I was a girl. Boy, when I think of that now it makes me angry!

Always wanted a sister. Had three brothers, then the two girls arrived after I had already left home. Okay, I said to myself. I will marry and have a girl of my own. Had four sons. Wouldn't trade any of them for a girl, but I do miss not having a daughter in my life. Okay, I said, I'll have granddaughters. Nada! Only recently John & Deb are in the process of adopting two little girls. Which is nice. I am glad. I am grateful. They are over 1200 miles away and we are lucky to see them once a year. And, wouldn't it be nice to have a grandchild with your own blood running through its veins? Okay, I said. I will have my own dog. And it will be a girl! Yes! My first one was killed. Now Forrest is stealing my second one's affection. Yes. Truly he is.

Forrest and my siblings did not get along. I was not welcome when I had him with me. Torn in the middle. I didn't get to see much of my family. Particularly my mother when I was with him and when we all were together it was unpleasant. I do not have the closeness with my own sons that I would like because of their past family experiences. They were taught not to respect women, especially me. Three of them have overcome that to a degree. The fourth seems lost to me forever. Says he wants me out of his life.

Speaking of that one, recently I contacted him to ask him if he was willing to be a recipient of our estate and willing to take a gift right now from the selling of some land. He is willing to take any money we want to "throw" his way but wants me to get out of his life. I am forbidden to mention Forrest's name to him or even refer to him indirectly. And, now, I am not to try to get in touch with him when we visit Connecticut or he will have me arrested for "stalking." Big joke. Stalking? I hardly ever get to talk to him and only now know his address so that I can send him a check. Have specific instructions not to share it with ANYone, including his brothers.

Yes. Locked out. Do I know what being locked out is! Oh boy, DO I !!! Okay. Whine. Whine. Cry. Cry. Yes. I know. I do have something that is my very own. Cannot be locked out. Will not be locked out. My writing! I have been working diligently on my memory book recently. Have written some poems. Have had quite a few poems published lately. Now, this is my world. And this world is open. No locked doors. I am free and easy to be my self in this world. And it is a wonderful world. A lot of work. But rewarding. revealing. therapeutic. Yes. With my pen and paper, I am never alone. Never on the outside wanting in. I can create my own world. And I am grateful.

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