Little Miss Chatter Box is drinking Baileys on ice. Drinking always leads to some kind of ramble. There’s no rhyme or reason to it…just a ramble. Some people have to explain everything. I have to explain nothing. People either accept me for my straightforward, live the moment, sarcastic sense of humor, or they walk away with their nose bent. I never ‘put on the dog’ or pretend to be something I’m not, I won’t even back peddle if it will improve my position in life, I just go with the flow and when I can’t stand the flow, I swim against the current to find another shore that makes me feel that I am living my life as I wish to live it.

Kee-rist!!!! I’m a living, walking, talking rant when I drink. The only way to get over it is to have a love affair with the keyboard…I am.

I could write about work – poker in all of its glory – and some of the insanities that keep me coming back day after day but I’d rather veer off the path and get into other parts of life.

I recently called my buddy, Jim AKA The Monkey. I had to leave a message…IBM had him by the throat. He returned the call. We chatted about life – ours – and where we were going in the long run. I told him I couldn’t stand to be like the Long Neck Clams in the mouth of the Smith River. That’s a story in itself. But why not, I’m having the ‘love affair’ right now and I might as well get right into it.

Many years ago and half a million lifetimes away, when I was living with a man that was once my husband, we lived in Winchester Bay, Oregon. We learned how to trap crab and how to dig clams. When the venture first began, we thought we had to dig the clams out of the river delta and they would be trying to get away. My ex was like a human backhoe, trenching up land as if we were laying in a foundation, but we managed to find almost nothing after all the digging. We met an older couple that showed us the technique to bringing home a million or so Long Necks.

When the tide went out, we looked for small air holes in the mud/muck. Finding those, we dug straight down about a foot to a foot and half, just in front of the air holes. It was easy to spot the shell of the Long Necks. Once the first one was spotted, all it took was a gentle shelving with the shovel…they were stacked right next to each other in rows, like small towns only in clam population.

That brings me to the point of the Long Neck Clam tale. They are born, grow, and die, in the same spot, never moving or leaving their beginning. ARGHHHH!!! *Major Primal Scream*

Please God…don’t let me live my life that way. I’m a child of the Earth that’s never content to spend my life doing the same thing, the same way, every day until I die.

Now that the tale of the Long Neck Clam has been penned, time to move on to other things. Jim…he’s alive and well in Colorado. Remember he’s the one that braved Aruba and The Tunnel of Love with me…still screaming inside over that one. And he’s a life bud…one that will always be my pal no matter what the hell happens to the rest of the world. *cheers – hugs – love*

There are two things that I particularly need to write about – they must be preserved in writing – registered in the chronicles of life.

My uncle Lee passed on November 30, 2005. Lee was the last living member of my dad’s immediate family. Lee came to our family reunion in 2002 in Northern Idaho. His health was very poor then, gradually taking him to a state where travel was impossible. At that reunion we played a lot of poker. I set up my video camera and just let it run. I’m so damn glad I did. He was so cute and funny…and he loved to play. In all of my youth and adult life, this was the only time that I really spent any time around him. He had never married and had no children. We visited and laughed our butts off over anything and everything. On the day we parted, we cried like little kids that just had their favorite toy yanked away.

In the last few years of his life, he had an extremely difficult time breathing (nope, not a smoker) and as his health deteriorated, he could barely talk on the phone because he couldn’t breathe. I ached for him. My prayer and thought for him each day was that his spirit would be at peace. I can’t help but think that as he left this life, his spirit was at peace.

Lee was the only member of my family that passed, but other people I knew and worked with left last year also.

This is one spot that brings a smile to my face – simply because the honor was given to me and I take great joy in acknowledgement. I received the following email just before the blogger tournament:

*begin email*

From: “Jason Kirk”
To: “Linda R. Geenen”
Sent: Wednesday, December 07, 2005 1:31 AM
Subject: Me, Charlie, & Vegas

>I’ve been kicking this idea around in my head for the last week and a
> half, and I think I’d like to follow through on it. I just wanted to
> check with you and make sure it was OK.
>
> Charlie’s mom gave me some of his ashes at his funeral. I’ve been
> pondering bringing him along with me to Vegas this time around, but I
> didn’t want to just bring him and then take back home. That week we
> spent in town was one of the most memorable of my life, and some of my
> best memories of my best friend were during that time. I wanted part of
> him to stay in Las Vegas for good. My idea – if it’s okay with you – is
> to have you plant him somewhere at your house. The barbecue in your back
> yard, and the game in your garage, were so much fun for all of us. I
> think it would be great if Charlie could stick around there…and I
> think he would really enjoy that.
>
> If you think it’s too creepy or whatever, I completely understand. There
> won’t be any hard feelings at all. If on the other hand you think it’s a
> great idea, I’m going to bring Charlie along and let you take part of
> him back home with you. Let me know what you think.
> Jason
>

*end email*

I responded:

—– Original Message —–
From: “Linda R. Geenen”
To: “Jason Kirk”
Sent: Wednesday, December 07, 2005 3:09 AM
Subject: Re: Me, Charlie, & Vegas

Ø Hi Jason,
>
> I don’t think it’s creepy at all. I’d be honored to put his ashes around a
> few of my trees in the back. I want to be cremated and have my ashes thrown
> out over Calico Basin into the wind. See you soon.
>
> Linda R. Geenen
> http://pokerworks.com
> Poker is a game of people, played with cards!

Hence my post of the WPBT event when I stated that I looked for Jason and Rachel as we had “items to exchange with each other” – Charlie Tuttle was coming home with me. When I met Jason and Rachel, Jason gave me a giant hug and handed me a small, orange envelope. I took it. Charlie was placed carefully in my fanny pack and carried with me throughout the tournament. He sat snuggled next to my stomach during my poker playing, drinking festivities and went home with me for the night. I carefully removed the envelope from my fanny pack when I arrived home, placing it on one of the glass shelves in my dining room.

I thought – quite seriously – about the time that Charlie should be introduced and become part of the back yard. It was not a decision to be taken lightly…after all, I was very honored that Jason would want Charlie to be at my home, in my surroundings, and feel that I could provide the final resting place for his best friend.

A few days later, I opened my eyes to a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Although there was a slight chill to the air, the sun was out, the air was quite calm, and I knew this was the perfect time to meld Charlie to the peace and serenity of my yard.

I tore one end off of the envelope and went out to the spirit of nature, the river rock, the vines and trees that had turned with the fall air, and gently shook out some of the contents of the envelope around each tree and vine with the verbal blessing that Charlie find peace and growth here. And that each tree and vine finds the spirit of nature and life in Charlie’s contribution to their growth and wellbeing. It was all a comfort and feeling of peace.

I leave you with eternal comfort and the feeling of peace as I lay to rest my love affair with the keyboard…just for the night.