Jane Doe…

The rest of the world goes on; most unaware of what she endures. Full of life — a life she senses will soon be cut short by painful inevitabilities. Helpless, terrified and lonesome she struggles to break free from the mess she has found herself in. The only warmth she can find is in her tears and memories. Cold and alone she patiently awaits a miracle.

This situation the deer is in metaphorically depicts emotional struggles we all face. Is this why we connect? Is sympathy born from empathy?

I went out schlepping armed only with my snow boots and camera last weekend. Although this was not my intended destination, I was drawn to this location along the icy river. I wasn’t sure why, but I stopped. Once I saw her, I realized why I was there.

Feeling as helpless as she looked, there was little if anything I could do. It broke my heart to walk away from a life in need. Maybe I didn’t realize why I was there after all.

Was this a tender reminder to never forget how precious life is?

The temperature was expected to drop that day and into the night. With a sliver of hope, a conservation officer suggested perhaps the ice would be strong enough for her to make a break for it. Because of the location, putting the animal out of her misery was not an option. Risking human life also was not an option.

Providing she was patient and strong enough, the ice around her could build back up and she could free herself.

Was this the universe throwing out another gentle reminder to be strong and patient so we can ultimately free ourselves?

Does it mean maybe there is always a little hope even when we feel the most hopeless?

I posted the photograph above on the IDNR Facebook page explaining when and where it was taken and I asked for them to help. I emailed local conservation police too hoping if enough people knew of her struggle, somebody could perform the miracle she was waiting for.

Sunday a couple of conservation officers formulated a rescue plan saying they too didn’t want to see her suffer. One of the officers I spoke with said he was nearly kicked to death in a similar rescue effort. Despite his own concerns, he arrived at the location only to discover she was gone.

Whether she was able to walk or swim to safety or otherwise, there was no sign of her.

Was it a happy ending? I think so. I like to think she was strong and patient enough to achieve freedom.

Like her story, no one can write your ending except you. We could all learn a lot from Jane Doe.

Getting there is half the fun

Everybody Needs a Little Time Away…

…and lucky for me, my bestest ho allowed me to tagalong on her vacation to Hawaii. It’s nice having a friend who wants to take care of you, and even nicer when you can cut loose and let go.

Our first stop was to my sister in-law Deb’s. She was taking us to the airport at some ungodly hour. We were going to have a sleepover, but once we started playing with her treasures, not much sleeping was accomplished.


Deb has been attending a lot of auctions lately, which means, she is kind of like a hoarder, without all the trash and dead animals laying around. Wait a second…now that I think about it, I didn’t see her dog. Hmmm…

She first pulled out a giant sword that she wanted to give to Mr. Lane but said she feared he would, “Jizz in his pants,” which she decided would be wrong on too many levels. “I don’t think it’d be okay for a sister to make a brother cum in his pants, just sayin’.”








She has everything from cupie dolls, creepy guys, and handmade Indian people to Jesus with a heart-on trinkets.



Anyhow, we played with some of Deb’s new toys.



Here’s Jodi trying on an old pair of glasses, a smoking pipe and a jewelrific spider bracelet.



Here she and I are powdering our noses.

I decided it best to stay awake all night and hoped to catch a few moments of shut-eye on the plane.

But, as we geared up to go, adrenaline raced through my body and there was no rest for this wicked bitch. In Chicago heading out, Jodi and I were stoked.

That is until we reached airport security. I get that since our country was attacked we can’t be too careful. I understand taking off your shoes and dealing with the odor of other’s unwashed stank, but fuck.

How is it possible that she and I can make it through TSA without so much as a pat-down? My hope of an early morning cheap thrill was but a fantasy. I thought aloud, “What’s a girl gotta do to get groped in this place?” Random TSA guy just offered up a hands-free giggle.



With our cheap thrills unachieved, we boarded the plane.

As I entered, I looked left into the cockpit. When I made eye contact with Pilot Mike… I asked if Jodi could come in to have her picture taken. I refrained from asking if I could sit on his lap, however.



He happily allowed her into his space.



After we took our seats in coach, and reflected on the kindness of both the pilot and copilot, the stewardess walked over to us and said we have been upgraded to first class, courtesy of Pilot Mike.

Hot damn! Flirty and friendly prevails, and Jodi and I were batting a thousand ‘cept for the grope fail earlier with TSA.

Immediately we knew it was going to be a great vacation.

Sitting in first class, we were surrounded by all of the stewardesses and stewards who were all chatting us up.

“Party in Aisle One.”

“Attitude Adjustment in Aisle Two,” was called after the guy sitting behind us was offended by our great time, laughing. Whatever, dude.

Maybe he was pissed that two common street whores got better seats at no extra cost than he did. Maybe he should have showed a little more leg or perhaps been less of a prick.

As the crowd dispersed, our steward said, “You two are lucky. You should play the Lotto.”

Jodi said, “Already did!”

“Well, cross your fingers!”

I said, “I’ll cross my legs, but come 5 o’clock, I can’t make any promises.”

As he took his laughter to his seat preparing for takeoff, Jodi said, “I’ll cross my boobs.”

She and I were giggling like two school girls, when the steward’s head peeked around the corner and he asked, “Did you say what I think you said?”

The three of us busted out in laughter again, as I’m pretty sure the guy behind plotted our murders.

During the flight, Pilot Mike had my camera and so graciously took pictures from the cockpit.



One of the Earth below.



One of his copilot.



And one of himself. (Wonder how many impure thoughts Jodi has had to this one.)



As we exited the plane, we just had to make a pit stop to thank our gracious pilot and copilot who happily allowed us into their cockpit again.

We finally arrived in Phoenix on no sleep. While we spent four hours waiting for our second flight to Oahu, we visited with Zona. She and her hubby took the long drive to the airport to keep us company, or to keep us out of trouble.



She is an amazing woman, and her old man ain’t so bad either.



We walked around, had coffee, ate and...some of us tried hitching a ride.



Some of us also threatened to fly ourselves there on our own personal high.

Thank God for second winds because we managed to stay up for two days…or was it six days? Who’s counting?!

My little black rain cloud

Okay, Dawn, Jennifer to the third power, Jodi, Sue, and whoever else has taken over for my mother’s nagging me for a blog. Here ya go! (BTW, I had a system crash and lost the post I previously promised. But a blog’s a blog, right?!)

Anything that is remotely fun can bring a smile to your face, right? Even hearing specific sounds or reading certain words can make you grin…that is if you’re freakin’ normal!

Sun, warm weather, the sounds of summer, like children laughing, the infamous “Pop Goes the Weasel” tune as the ice cream truck drives through the neighborhood, or birds happily chirping, ukuleles, circus music, clowns and circuses are just a few of those good things…that my friend HATES.




People, meet Jennifer.

I’ve been spending some quality time with her lately. We’ve been getting to know each other better during these visits. And some of the things I’ve found out make me laugh until I can hardly breathe.

As many things as we have in common, we have an equal amount of polar opposite likes and dislikes. The strongest commonality is laughter, but who doesn’t love to laugh, right?!

The thing about Jennifer is, her laugh is so super contagious that I can’t help but laugh with her even when I have no idea what cracked her up in the first place.

Some of her dislikes are seriously some of my favorite things like sunshine, warm weather and gardening. That is a perfect day for me. But the sun gives her a headache and when she gets hot…she gets hot! Everything under the sun, pun intended, pisses her off. And this, strikes me funny. Really funny!

She absolutely loves grey rainy days. Add some cold wind to the mix, and this girl is in heaven! She claims those kinds of days energize her. For me, that is sleeping weather.

I was at her house recently, helping to clear a couple areas in her yard so she could have gardens again like she did years ago when she bought her house. She is a garden admirer, just not a fan of playing in the dirt. My friendship is true-blue; I will pull weeds, dig holes and get down-right filthy for the right person.

The reason why her former gardens became so overgrown with weeds is because she also hates snakes. Now, I’m not a huge fan, but I’d never let them stop me from getting down and dirty in my own yard plus, we don’t have any that are poisonous, so why worry.

She was certain that her yard was infested. So, like the good friend I am, I did my Samuel L. Jackson impersonation as I meandered through her backyard and hollered, “Get these mutha fuckin’ snakes, out this mutha fuckin’ yard.” (You should hear that in person, I’m good.)

I busted my ass in the summer sun, moving old bricks, pavers and rotted landscaping logs, but did not encounter one snake.

“Well there is a skin, right there!” She said in an uncomfortable tone.

I picked up the snakeskin, and said, “It’s just skin. It won’t hurt you or do anything. Here, feel it. It’s like a plastic grocery bag.”

She gave me the look…you know the, go fuck yourself, look, and walked away. I flung the skin to the ground, wiped my brow with my forearm, and went back to work, that is, until I heard a familiar sound of summer, humming in the distance.

Just as my smile grew, she said, “Fucking really?!”

Uh-oh! Jennifer was not happy.

The ice cream man was making his way down her street, and apparently, she really hates him too! Who hates the ice cream man, for Pete’s sake?

“Damn-it! That distorted music makes me want to scream! Fuck!”

I tried to not laugh at my friend, but the more I tried, the more I laughed. Hearing my laughter set her off on a tangent.

“I wish I could drive the ice cream truck,” she surprisingly said.

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, that would be great! I’d drive up the street real slow, watch as everyone comes running out to buy some. And once they got right up to the truck, I’d fucking floor it just to watch their faces!”

This friend is deliciously evil. No wonder why I like her so much! Today, as the sky explodes in thunder, lightning, cool wind gusts and pouring rain, I hope she is happy.

Seems like old times

The Lanes are gearing up for an eggciting Easter Sunday! The whole fam damily is coming over and I couldn’t be happier.

My mom used to plan parties at my house and clue me in days before the blessed event. I haven’t had the family over since the last time she did that to me. Anita has taken over Mom’s role in that aspect. At least she gave me plenty of warning.

The family hasn’t been the same in the last year, but the love has grown. I didn’t think that was possible. These are the same people who attempted to assassinate me every time I tattled…which was pert-near every damn day of my young life. But every last one of those fuckers would have also killed for me if anyone should mess with the baby.

I see that same love/hate relationship with my own kids. They are the best of friends and worst enemies.

A couple of nights ago, they were watching Family Guy together. I could hear them laughing and chatting each other up. Just about the time I thought how cute they were, Lane 1 said, “If you were a character from Family Guy, which one would you be? Probably Meg because you're ugly and no one likes you…”

Hearing a groan from her and a chuckle from him, I shook my head just as he added, “Nah, Mom would be Meg."

That’s all it took and they were laughing together and best buddies again.

Mr. Lane has been absent more than usual, which means I have become the butt of every joke around here. Initially, I felt bad for all the years of abuse we have dished out to that poor bastard. But I’m over it. He clearly deserves it more than I do.

Things here have been stressful as I pound the pavement again to drum up more freelance work. I do not miss the 9 to 5 imprisonment of the daily newspaper, however. So, like 80,000 or so other people, I’ve been watching the eagle cam as a way to soothe my savage beast. It’s just one more thing the kids make fun of me about.

It is so relaxing, listening to the birds and watching the mom and dad eagle care for the three little hatchlings, who incidentally are cute as shit right now! One is kind of a brat. He pecks the others in the head every time they try to look around. He’s my favorite.

As much as I enjoy them, I know not to spend too much time watching them while my own brats are around, a lesson learned the hard way.

“Awww, look at that baby! He just aimed his ass out of the nest and shot shit through the air! Isn’t that cute?!” Lane 2 said. “I bet Mom tries that when she’s home alone.”

“Ya know, Sis, I was watching the eagles today at work, and I saw mom's car pull up in the distance,” Lane 2 could barely contain herself as her brother weaved a tale of lies. “Anyhow, she was pouring peanuts all over her body and trying to get the eagles to eat them out of her ass.”

You can imagine why I’ve become a closet eagle watcher.

I wish I could install a spy cam for you all to watch the madness unfold as 25 or so Lanes gather in our humble abode this Sunday. I’ll make sure to take some photos and notes to share. Until then, I hope you all have a happy Easter!

I'm no one's lap dog...

You can't put me on a leash. Johnny Rotten may have been on to something when he said that. Oh hey, are you still here?

It’s really hard to go back in time. This ol’ creature of habit can’t take it anymore. Having a boss…bosses… too many to count in fact, is too much for me. I’m going back to freelancing for the newspaper. Thankfully those above mentioned bosses agree. I flat out did better and was an all around happier me, not shackled to one of their desks.

I offered to give them the time they need to find a replacement - the right fit, rather than the first warm body, which means it may be a couple of months. But just knowing there is light at the end of this tunnel makes it bearable.

It’s been a rough few months. I’ve been fighting with my old man on a pretty regular basis about shit that normally would roll right off my back. The house is a total pigsty, because clearly I am the only one who knows how to ________ (fill in the blank with any random bullshit household chore).

And the kids are…where the fuck are the kids???

Lane 2 got her driver’s license and has not been seen since. Lane 1, well…he’s 18 and not in the military (Thank blog in interweb heaven! Story for another day.) but also not home often.

The animals are completely neglected as are my friends at the senior home and the little snot-nosed brats at the teen center. I’ve neglected anything and everything, including you my imaginary friends who reside in my computer. For this I apologize, sincerely.

To top it off, I couldn’t say how many times I wanted to pick up the phone and call my mom, or get in the car to see her. That is really the hardest part about the last few months of my life. Who knew I’d miss that crazy woman so much?! Certainly not me.

My mom was the one who ragged my ass to write a new blog post nearly every time. So this is where I blame my dead mother for you not having a new post here at Home Fires for months.

I hate to make you all think I’ve been 100% miserable for the last few months, because that isn’t true either. New stuff is tough to contend with when you’ve been doing the same-old-same-old for as long as I have, that’s all.

Anyhow, thanks for being here. Hopefully we’ll do this again soon.

Working Class Hero

You ever do something and then kick yourself in the ass over it? I have. That’s one of the reasons why I’ve been missing in action around here lately. I signed a piece of paper that says I will not blog (at or) about work.

Hmm…

Some of the people who work there actually get paid to blog. Whatever.

Since nearly everything I do is centered around the stupid job, what the hell am I allowed to tell you guys?!

Work is good right? It is a job in the field for which I am trained. A job I’ve done before. One that I really like-ish.

Why did I sign that fucking paper?!

I mentioned in a post this summer something about the job. (That was before the paper was signed.) It was also before I was asked on as a full-timer. By the way, full-timer means health benefits, which my family hasn’t had steadily for many moons. Full-timer also means, micro-managed nearly to death.

I love and hate it. But knowing the kids are in the age of self-sufficiency, I sort of had to begin rebuilding my own life, for me. Empty nest syndrome is a bitch in more ways than I can express in words. I still have a couple of years before my girl is an official grown up, and I’m really not sure why it is hitting me so hard so soon.

I’ve spent the last 18 years of my life living for those kids of mine and being what and who they needed. Before that, it was all about my old man and his needs. Before that, I was the model daughter, just ask my siblings, they know I was always Mom and Dad’s favorite kid. (just making sure those skeezers are still reading my blog)

Before that... there was no ‘before that.’ And any second that snuck by in between…I kind of forget about my own individuality, something like stolen identity…sans the bill for a flat screen.

When I had a moment to reflect, I realized I didn’t really like me so much. The me - without them, the solo me, basically - the unknown me. Introspective, huh?! (Please refrain from the “We like you just the way you are.” Mr. Rogers type comments, that’d be great.)

The forces that be apparently knew I was not ready to see my only son off to the US Air Force right now. He is in a holding pattern. Turns out this shitty economy is on this mom’s side. Everyone and their brother has been signing up because it is one of very few jobs available that is guaranteed, and comes with benefits.

So my son is on a waiting list, stuck at his same-old-same-old job, stuck with the same old naggin’ dragon mom, as the kids so lovingly call me. But the little douche bag is never home…unless he is showing his dad porn websites?!

Mr. Lane has been missing in action as always. But when he is around on a rare drop-in visit, apparently the boys have been enjoying a little internet time together. I didn’t even have to discover a virus on my computer to find out what those two asses were up to.

The old man was on the phone with a buddy talking about his son sharing a live-feed webcam sex site with him.

“He just tells some random broad to show her boobs, and she did!”

Listening as he sat across the table from me, I shook my head thinking this was just another exaggerated story. But he was speaking in detail, and you all know my old man isn’t very creative, so I started really listening as he finished telling his friend more.

He said, “When he let me have a turn, I typed, ‘I would be very appreciative if you would remove your shirt.’”

Almost crying from laughing so hard, I couldn’t keep quiet any longer, “Who are you fooling? You can’t spell appreciative.”

Correcting himself, in a very caveman way he said, “I would be very thank…you… for naked?”

And that was more like it!

Sorry again for the delay in posting. I could tell you guys I’ll be more consistent, but I’ll be unintentionally lying…again. Thanks for sticking around anyhow!

Party Like A Rock Star

The Lanes, also known on Facebook as the Twaters took our last family vacation with our kids. The next time we go anywhere, Lane 1 will be paying. Kidding, kind of. He is 18, all grown up and whatnot. Still a pain in the ass, then again, so is his father and he is 40!


We went to the Mall of America, visited some of my “creepy internet friends” who “weren’t that creepy after all.” We also went to a comedy show staring ANT and Jason Dudey. Good times. They really made my kid’s birthday one to remember…as did the drunk lady with the money stuck to her boobies?!?!


Hoooo boy! A picture can tell a story so let’s get this thing told…




The mall has a log ride and roller coasters.




It also has half-naked boy models? But that is only a fun sight to see if your mom makes you pose for a picture with him.




Here’s the kids. Yeah we have a couple extras, but they are just like family anyhow. (Lane 1’s girlfriend and Lane 2’s soul sister.)




There’s random characters everywhere in the mall.




But Bubba Gump was oddly adorable.




These two knuckle heads were my favorite characters.




The lovebirds kind of ditched us.




But that was okay because they were stuck with us at the hotel.




Lane 2 was on top of the world…well on the top floor of the hotel anyhow.

We arrived at the club following a really long day at a very big mall. First thing any of us wanted was food.




Lane 2 ordered chicken fingers but got dicken fingers instead. The ranch was a nice touch don’t you think?

That dicken strip made it’s way around the club and would have been sold on eBay had my daughter not been starving.




Her meal went well with Jason's act as he used the microphone as a prop.




We were sitting in front row and it didn’t take long before ANT was making fun of the name Twater. My family is seasoned for dealing with embarrassment, thanks to me. But I wasn’t sure how they would take it coming from someone else.




As you can see they were terribly upset. Bunch of attention whores! Of course when ANT mentioned this old blog during his act I became giddy as all hell.




The show was over after midnight. We were heading out when the manager of the bar stopped my son. As she explained what she wanted to do to him, I could hear him say, “What the fuck?!” without opening his mouth. If you look in the background you can see his sister and girlfriend were saying the same.




As she had another woman tear the dollars off of her chest with her teeth and drop them into my son’s lap, I heard him say, “Dude, Ma, help!” again without opening his mouth. Classic!

The insanity was more than that boy could take. Mr. Lane was pretty hammered so he thought it was great. I think he secretly wished it was his birthday!




When we left the club ANT and Jason invited us into their limo. ANT would probably kick my ass for posting this picture, but it is one of the few I took, and the only with him and any of us. Trust me, this doesn't do him justice, he is a good looking guy! I felt like I was infringing so I didn’t go camera happy.

In his drunken state, Mr. Lane asked ANT if he could rip his shirt off and hang out of the limo sunroof like Ke$ha. Thank Blog he was just kidding. Or was he?!

We were all tired after the show but I wanted to spend more time with my friends. So after the family was tucked in for the night, we partied like rock stars until 4 or 5 am. Okay, 4 or 5 is true, the rock star part, not really.




Except my friend Beck. She got a face full of Jason’s crotch when he got up to hug someone goodbye. I think I heard her say, “That is no tuna taco!!!!” without actually saying anything.

I don’t know why I took so few pictures of everything and everyone. I guess I was wrapped up in the weekend. I didn’t get one picture of me with any of my creepy internet friends and that is the only part I regret.

When we were all piled in Lydia and Angie’s hotel room, the phone rang. It reminded me of the old days when I’d be with friends at their house when their parents said not to have people over. They would call to check in on their kid and they would whisper yell at everyone to be quiet. Before Angie picked up the phone, she shhhhed us. It was someone looking for Katie. There wasn’t a Katie with us, but they said, “Well we have alcohol and are willing to share.” There I was with my “creepy internet friends" having a great time. But when a real life stranger wanted to come over I got a little creeped out. Turns out they were LA cops. Things sure are different when you’re a grownup and the cops show up at your party.

Doc and Lydia made the weekend possible. They are probably two of the nicest and most amazing creepy bitches I have ever met. Next to that weirdo Jungle Pussy Bush, of course. It was great getting to know all of you! Huge thanks to ANT and Jason too.

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Most importantly, here's some big ol' happy birthday wishes to my sistah, MeeMaw! She's 98 this year. :D Happy birthday! I love you!!