Mrs. Butterworth or Anything for baby....

The grandchildren are here for the weekend. Faith is in charge of everything! Where we sit, what we eat, what we watch on TV, bed times, rising times, good times, bad times, the weather and the latest bills sent to congress. This morning she wanted my chair. Of course, I GAVE IT TO HER. Then she wanted pancakes and Marty whipped them up and placed them in front of her. She then muttered meanly "BACON' so he made her some bacon. "Juice" was delivered and " FORK" was retrieved over and over and maple syrup was reapplied multiple times on her pancakes. I was relieved of duty long enough to get ready for work ( and believe me, I sloooowly got ready for work). As I reached for my purse and suit coat (official work jacket of the de la Monnaie) I realized they were both on the back of my chair, the chair the baby had demanded at gunpoint.
My jacket collar is stuck to the back of my sweater and my purse zippers are all glued up

Fleurs de lis

I met Suzanne when I was 15. We were both volunteers working on West Carthage's first Teen Center in a church basement on Main street. I was from the Catholic school and she was from the public school. She chose a name for the kitchen area and I made the sign. " The Slop Shop"! A few days later I ran into Suzanne with her little dog, Pansy. She was really upset and told me what her stepfather had done to her, that she couldn't go home and she was leaving town. I dragged her to St. James rectory to talk to someone. I remember asking Father Spinard if she could just sleep at the church until we could come up with a plan. He said, very catholicly,"no". I then went home, pinched a five dollar bill from my mother's purse, returned to Suzanne who was waiting for me at the abandoned train car and said I'd go with her.( I was an experienced hitch-hiker at 15) We went to Virginia. We wound up in a half way house for teens called Bumpy Oak Counseling Center. When interviewed after the cops took us there, it was determined that I was as fucked up as a soup sandwich and Suzanne, the rape victim of her stepfather, was fine. Parents were notified and my parents called her parents to arrange transport and were told that they wouldn't be bringing her back. My Dad showed up 12 hours later in his Sunday suit and top coat. Doctors approached him to recommend institutions for me! When I learned that nobody came for Suzanne, I actually did go nuts, "I'm not leaving if she's not leaving". My father took temporary custody of my new best friend and we slept in the back seat for most of the 12 hour ride home. Over the next few years we would take many trips (some road and some right there at the abandoned train car) She thought I was courageous and creative and I thought she was grounded and determined. I thought she was the real Suzanne and she thought I was.

I found out today that she died.