Tony Snow Sunday, Jul 13 2008 

All weekend I’ve been listening to well-deserved tributes to Tony Snow, the Washington writer and newsman whose essays I’ve always admired and whose on-camera presence always lit the screen with his huge, genuine smile.

Dying of cancer at age 53 after a three year battle, Snow openly put his love for his family and his faith above all professional regards.  He had the good sense to know what his priorities were, and the good grace to share those priorities with us all.

He showed everyone undergoing cancer treatment that they should not hide their outside appearance, as he showed us all he was still the same person underneath the white face, lack of eyebrows and thinning white hair.  He showed up and did his job and did it well.  When his cancer returned and spread to his liver, he left his brief tenure at the White House as Press Secretary to earn more money for his family’s future.  His departure that day was met with a standing ovation from the entire White House staff, waiting for him outside on the street as he made his way to his car.

His wife and three children will permanently have a big hole in their hearts, left by this great man and the admiration he inspired.

Godspeed, Tony Snow.

Dream On Sunday, Jul 13 2008 

Auntie M is recovering today from a horrid stomach virus that is making the rounds.  This is what happens when one tries to be a do-gooder, as Auntie M found out after visiting The Son Who Should Know Better and his wife, and in the process, helped her change their sheets and neaten up the house.  And then remembered they’d both had the virus a few days before…

Anyway, bounding out of bed today, feeing much better, I ate lunch and worked for a few hours until drowsiness overcame me, sitting at my laptop.  I hit a spot in my revisions between chapters where I need to insert an entire new bit, something I need to mull over, the perfect stopping place to hit the sofa with a thin blanket and think hard about it.  I was asleep in minutes in one of those dreams you can’t wake up from~

In the dream, I’ve walked into town to impress Doc with how fit I’m going to get.  This is the start of the joke because ‘town’ as we know it, is 23 miles away!  Once I get there, the paltry rain we had last night has flooded the town so that the stores are under water up to their roofs!  On the way home, I’m suddenly on a bicycle (isn’t it neat how those things just happen in dreams?). I stop peddling when I hit a huge town I don’t recognize that looks vaguely like Cincinnati, a place I’ve never visited.

I ask for directions to my route and people stare at me.  Am I even in the same state?  I ask a youth for Route 264 and he tells me what’s playing at the movie theatre.  I narrowly avoid getting on a train and finally enter a cute shop and ask the proprietor, a man with white hair and eyebrows, where I am.  He, in turn, asks me if I’m going to buy something from him.

I burst into tears.  “You mean you won’t tell me where I am unless I buy something?”  I’m overwhelmed by his crassness when I turn around–and there’s Doc, come to rescue me.

“Thank goodness, I was getting desperate.  How did you know where to find me?”

Doc, meanwhile, is investigating some garishly beaded trays.  “We could use these to eat in front of the TV,” he tells me, before turning to me and adding: “I always know where you are.”

Fortunately, I woke up before I could hit him.

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