Some good friends of mine used to set up their manger scene under the Christmas tree until they got a male dog. Let us just say that blasphemy happened, and leave it at that.

Don Bluth: "All Dogs go to heaven."
Anne's friends' dog: "I'd like to test that theory."

Weird email and voicemail to my work email & phone. Blast from the past. I have to say, it's really strange to be called someone's hero. I swear, all I was, was the MDA poster child for NY metro area. Much longer story here. But, it's closing night, and we need to take the show apart before the students flee for winter break. It's just a little...surreal??? Not sure if that's quite the right word here. But. Promise more details after work. Just, a little shell shocked I guess.

Same as le nubian, just read Beep Me - Scrappy, much ~ma to you and your mother.

I hope surgery took care of everything, Scrappy.

Best outcome~ma, Scrappy. May the surgery have been as successful as expected. You and your mother are in my thoughts.

Outcome~ma, Scrappy.

My roommate is practically in shock. It started snowing this morning and she just got up. I pointed it out to her and she's all giddy. N. is from California and has lived in southern England and Australia for the past six or seven years; she doesn't see snow much lately. She's seen it on trips up to Yosemite and her relatives up in Tahoe (it snowed on her wedding night, Oct. 31st, but it's not a common winter sight for her.) She's wandering around the front room going "Oh, my god; oh, my god," opening blinds and staring out the windows. She even called her dad in California to tell him. It's tickling me pink to see her get so much enjoyment from it.

How fun! I don't see snow that often and it is a delight when I get the chance.

Even having lived in Colorado, I get that way when there is unexpected snowfall overnight.

Last night, driving through it, was both magical and scary. I normally wait for the plows or at least other people to forge a path first. Last night, there were spots where I was the first driver and had to hope I was staying on the right side of the road.

Tons of outcome~ma and just plain old regular ~ma for Scrappy & family.

So the thing I alluded to last night. When I was a kid, I went to a lot of MDA fundraisers. The "job" of a poster kid (they are now called "Ambassador's", not to be confused with Firefly definition of one). There was one event that was, by far, the best. Softball tournament put on by the New Rochelle Fire Dept. My family loved going to it, they loved having us. Tons of hot dogs, soda, and prime seats behind home plate. And hey, at the end, I had two teams of women kissing me on the cheek as I passed out trophy's. What more could a kid ask for? It got to the point where they named the award for most funds raided by an individual after me. And the firefighter who headed it all up was E. Flash forward to teen years. E retires. I go off to college. Move away from NY area, and don't really do anything for MDA anymore. Well, that's when I get the email and voicemal from daughter of E. Seems he is in FL, and has recently been diagnosed with Parkinsons and Alzheimers. And as we know with Alzheimers, memories are a strange thing. From the sounds of it, depending on the day, he has trouble remembering his kids. But, it seems he always remembers me. So, for Christmas, his daughter wants to reconnect us. She also mentioned that as a kid, I was her hero. And the photo with most prominence in her fathers den, is the one of me on his shoulders, or some such. It's so surreal. So strange. I had no idea I impacted these people this much. I mean. Hero? I'm just me. I never saved anyone from a burning building. I never gave CPR to a dying person. Took out a gunner. hero? I dunno. That being said, I will help her out. How could I not. Although, there is a strange guilt, for lack of better word, that I, a near stranger, am prominent in this mans memory more than his family. Not that there is any control over that. But I guess, in that, I haven't kept touch with these people. So strange.

That's wonderful, Omnis. I think we can be heroic sometimes just by being our own singular self, and it sounds like you did that. You ARE pretty fantastic, you know.