It has been a tough trip, but the disability FINALLY went through. We are not on easy street by any means, but we are not bordering on homelessness. My oldest son is showing his hometown pride:HE IS A VOLUNTEER FIREMAN! He belongs to the Vigilant Hose Co. 6 in Emmitsburg, MD of course. He gets college credits through the University of Maryland for the fire courses. It is like a dream come true for him. I can remember shopping at the Adams County Rescue Mission Thrist Shop when he was only about 3 or 4 and finding a yellow University Of Maryland Terps Tshirt and buying it for fifty cents. It was a mile too big but he hung ion to it until he was about 6 and it fit him like a belly shirt. His younger brothers wore it, too, although we were already in Texas and it wasn't in Texas Vogue. I flew the Maryland state flag on holidays while in Mesquite and Dallas, TX and no one knew what it was. All they knew was that it wasn't TEXAS. Screw 'em. Maryland always will be my home. And it is soooooo good to be back. My only complaint was that we had snow for Halloween and not Christmas, but I had a little talk with Mother Nature and that won't happen again. ;)

The journey to HOME begins with HOME

To get to "home", you have to leave home. I come from a small town in Maryland. Emmitsburg is the final resting place of the first American born saint, Elizabeth Ann Seton. The woman suffered through great personal loss, (her husband and later her children), but she was a woman of faith and, through that faith, she created the first U.S. parochial school. I can honestly say that, without her, I would not have gotten the exceptional grade school education that I received. I HATED Catholic school! The uniforms, the masses, the CONFESSIONAL! When George Carlin put out the "Class Clown" album, every kid in Catholic school recognized themselves...or a nun or priest. And I was tainted before birth. My mother, astudent of the local Catholic High School, had me out of wedlock. I was virtually dying until a lady literally kidnapped me from my babysitter. I was 7 months old. My mother was 18 and the lady who would adopt me was 46. Let me clarify that my birth mother did not abuse or neglect me. She worked in a hot shoe factory to feed and shelter the both of us. I had health problems that she had no money to truly address. I wasn't told about this "arrangment" until some cruel kid in the 5th grade told me that I didn't belong anywhere. My 10 year old brain saw it only one way. One mother didn't want me and the only one that I knew to be my mother only pitied me. Heck, the latter wasn't even Catholic! But she sure as hell made me go to mass, wear a uniform with a peter pan collar and endure the nuns. If that wasn't cruel and unusual punishment, what was?!?! Who was I? I was an overweight kid with a blue collar family, both birth and adopted, going to school with kids who could claim doctors, coaches and military in their families.