When I posted this it was my intention to return as soon as I said goodbye to Stacy and finish it... so maybe 15 minutes... The Road to Hell is indeed paved with good intentions... and I did NOT make it back. Without the rest of what I wanted to say the post became a rather classless and snarky thing which turned a good intention to a bad joke ---- and I sincerely apologize for that... to you and to her.
ensive:
I was going to tell you that Stacy was my stress release the guns hers. I am disallowed the weapons of men. The Wars of men are fought with the weapons of men. Spiritual wars are fought with Spiritual weapons. I had to make a choice. I have a 410 which is allowed for hunting... but only if there is great need - and that need is not mine. It is kept close but not within my house.
Stacy's battle will be on the physical plain and she has trained all these years to make sure she is ready. Again, the need can not be hers, but others.
We are not often together - for safety reasons.. This was the first visit here - in 2 years. And as always, she brought a mason jar which also comes from the deep bayou, and contains the a liquid that smells faintly of peaches and wild nature. She brings two small baby food jars and fills them half full... which is more than enough to set the post in a giggly way... In the only defense I have.
She holds no political ideology. And generally I don't either. That to is frowned upon.
The post came to be at all because she wanted to meet you all.
She is one of only two that know about you at all (through me) and the one who will reach Debi if anything happens to me.
She is a child of the deep bayous of Louisiana. Cajun. Her mother was a Voodoo Priestess, her father a means to a child, and there is no tie there. She refused her right to follow her mother as Priestess... and left the bayou, as is the law in this matter. She spent several months traveling in a vague direction following an even vaguer call. I was never a natural teacher, but we spent a year together... one morning, when I woke she was standing by the door with her backpack waiting to say goodbye. The voice called her on, she said. When I objected and voiced a thousand concerns, she stepped forward and embraced me - then told me, "you have given me everything I need. I am ready."
And she was.
So these words are the rest of where the post was heading.