Tomorrow ends my second week of unemployment and I must say I have been lonely! In the past I have enjoyed “Me Time.” I have gone out to restaurants, movies, the theater…even walks around the city on the other side of the river on my own. Being lonely is another story! My sister and my husband check up on me fairly regularly during the day but there are no other people in the vicinity to interact with. The sound of a television or radio doesn’t cut the mustard. Yes, a person can be lonely in a crowd and even within their own relationships but loneliness due to unemployment is difficult. I truly believe we humans are pack animals and, with the exception of the oddball hermit, we thrive within groups. This is my soapbox philosophy for the day.
Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes…
This post is a smidge late but 2025 was, for me, a year in purgatory.
I had lost myself. I was unemployed (I still am), in an unhappy marriage, doubted every single step I took. I would look in the mirror and think what a fat, ugly failure I was at that time.
In January, I was introduced to a lovely group of women. We swapped “war stories” about marriage, children, not a subject I could address as my child, at that time, was a furry black and white Havanese. He was my “Young Squire.” Most importantly, he was my 12-year old soul puppy. Back to the group of women! We shared dreams and disappointments, tales of abuse and hopes of a better future. We supported each other and helped each to aspire to be their best self they could possibly be.
My support group was part of a larger program to enable downtrodden women discover the strong individuals they had been before life threw them curveballs. I was assigned a case manager who explored avenues with me to better myself, meet new people and connect me to individuals who were able to revise my resume and provide job training. This in no way is meant to disparage my partner but he had decided not to provide funds for food. I am not ashamed to say my case manager enrolled me in a food pantry which I still visit once a week. The key item she introduced me to was legal assistance. More on this later.
In February, my “Young Squire” fainted. I had never seen a dog faint but I became hysterical. I was not emotionally or financially capable, at that time, to handle my soul puppy being ill. My life was falling apart all around me. The “Young Squire” and The Sister were steadfast during this time. If anything happened to either one, I felt that I would fall into an abyss and never escape. I connected with a local rescue group which provided me with veterinary care and financial assistance. Unfortunately, my soul puppy passed in my arms. He had been suffering from cancer and never displayed a sign or utter a whimper that he was ill. My partner, who was nearby and not working that night, refused to join us at the veterinary clinic. I can’t even describe the pain this caused.
In June I visited my favorite farmers market in our area. The vendors are varied and some have become friends. I stopped to give a hug to one gentleman I had known since I started visiting the market. For some reason he gave me a full-on kiss on the lips and squeezed my derrière. I have not been to the market since. My husband noticed and, after being silent for so long, deigned to ask why. I told him. He looked furious for a moment, rolled over and went back to sleep.
My emotional state did not improve for the next several months. My partner would tell me that I was imagining things if I mentioned that something between us was “off.” By the time June rolled around, we were not talking. I do admit, when he is at work, he puts his all in his job but there was no need for him to come home, stomp around and slam doors. My case manager introduced me to an attorney just after our 29th anniversary. The Sister accompanied me to my initial consultation with the very no nonsense attorney who took copious notes during our meeting. The situation worsened within the house. The tension could be cut with a knife. While he was sleeping one afternoon and The Sister was sick in bed with COVID, I returned to the attorney’s office and we started my divorce paperwork. I asked my attorney to hold off filing for a little while. I still held onto an unreasonable amount of hope that our situation would reverse and we would be happy once again. I was a fool and she filed everything at the end of August. I asked for him to be notified by snail mail; I did not want him embarrassed in case a process server visited him at work. The mail arrived and he took the packet with him to work to read during a break. He called screaming at me in the middle of the night. He came home and threatened the vendor from the farmers market (the one I mentioned earlier) and me. He said one of his friends is “connected” and would take care of us. I ran to the police station and within two hours a restraining order was in place. The police arrived, had The Sister and me leave the house and they had the husband pack and escorted him off the property. I could not stop crying. What I had dreamed about being forever between the two of us crumbled into dust. A week later we met with the judge. I stated I would agree to drop the restraining order as long as he agreed to signing a civil restraint. I didn’t want him to be saddled with a criminal record. He agreed.
The months moved on. Both our birthdays came and went. He is alone. No one in his family is talking to him. I may no longer be in love with him but I love him as a person. He doesn’t deserve to be by himself like this. We have started talking again, more than we did when we were married. During one of our conversations, he admitted that the “connected friend” does not exist. He created him in his imagination. I was furious but I felt terrible for him that he felt the need to tell me he had friends when he didn’t. During another chat, he commended me for having the strength to file for divorce. He hadn’t been happy as well but simply decided to live with the hand he was dealt. We now go to the market together once a week. He actually helps me out on occasion. I told him he doesn’t need to but he simply smiles and says it makes him happy. Every so often, we even break bread together. Who would have guessed this would be possible?
The divorce was finalized on January 6, 2026. It was the 31st anniversary of when he proposed. Timing is so very strange… I did not ask for alimony. I had no desire to bankrupt him plus I preferred a clean break. He thanked me profusely for not requesting alimony. He thought I planned to take him to the cleaners.
This is the path I chose. No one needs to know every reason why I decided to end my marriage. He and I both know what failed us as a couple. And now we move on. We’re both creating a future for ourselves as individuals.
I’m healing. It’s a journey and I am so incredibly thankful for The Sister, my support group, my case manager and my attorney. It’s baby steps but I’m assembling the bright, shiny pieces that made up my former self into someone new and stronger. I’m eager to see what the future brings.
Coal…
I was asked yesterday what am I upset about regarding our country and the new administration. Instead of stating the rampant antisemitism sweeping through every nook and cranny of the United States which has had me totally stymied since October 7, 2023, I mentioned the President’s mission to resume coal mining and the use of this fossil fuel for energy. Heaven forbid this nation should become reliant upon wind farms, hydroelectric power for areas near rivers, solar energy or even geothermal power – imagine utilizing Kilauea’s eruptive force to provide energy for all of Hawaii – this administration wants to take several leaps backward and cause more pollution and the return of acid rain. There has been a fire raging since the 1960’s in an abandoned coal mine below Centralia, Pennsylvania. The land above the fire is uninhabitable. What truly has me vexed is that the administration does not take into consideration the citizens of this land who have breathing issues. I don’t mean those who are or were smokers and developed COPD or emphysema but people, such as myself, who were born or developed pulmonary issues throughout their lives. Me? I was born with Hyaline Membrane Disease. This occurs in premature babies or those who experience a traumatic birth. The surfactant that keeps the alveoli open in a newborn’s lungs dries up. The baby suffocates. I have one scarred lung and am predisposed to chest infections. My sister has always suffered from severe asthma. For the past 2 summers, with the forest fires raging around the continent, we and others like us, were only able to venture outside wearing AT LEAST 2 masks! The air will only worsen with the burning of fossil fuels! I would gather that this administration is working hand in hand with Big Pharma as the use of coal will only exacerbate the need for those suffering from pulmonary ailments to use more inhalers, nebulizers and possibly oxygen tanks. Maybe, if this is the way the President sees our future energy-wise, he should have his Health and Human Services Secretary supply us gratis with the necessary products to keep us breathing due to their ingenious resolution to the energy problem!
Beyond the Rainbow Bridge…
Mommy, I’m cold. Hold me closer, please. Yes, just like that. Why am I so tired and achy? Mommy! You’re crying! Don’t cry! I love you! I would pick up my paw and put it on your face as I usually do but my leg is so heavy. I can’t move it. Please keep singing to me! I know you love me, Mommy! You don’t need to keep saying it! I know I’m absolute perfection! You’ve been telling me that since the day you brought me home.
Mommy, I don’t understand. Rainbow Bridge? I need to take a walk without you? No! I just want to snuggle in your arms! Please keep petting my fur! Who should I find? My Grandma and Great-Grandfather? But they’re STRANGERS! Who else? Iggie! My brother Iggie! I miss him! Mommy, I just need to close my eyes for a moment. Please don’t stop singing…
Where am I? Mommy, where are you?
Mikkie, you’re on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge!
Who said that?
Me! Iggie!
Iggie! Who is the lady with you? She looks like our Auntie? And who is the man with the silver hair and mustache?
The lady is our Grandma, Mommy’s Mom and the man is our Great-Grandfather, Grandma’s Daddy! They give hugs even better than Mommy! They LOVE fur babies like us!
But what about Mommy? Why did she send me across the Rainbow Bridge? Doesn’t she love me anymore?
Mikkie my little love. I know this was one of the most difficult decisions my daughter made but she made it out of the extreme love she has for you! You were tired because you were very ill. You gave her so much love and happiness for 12 wonderful years! She decided to set you free! She made sure to tell you to come to us! The rest of your family is waiting to meet you plus your Mama Georgina wants to play with you.
Grandma, will Mommy forget about me?
Never! You can always walk to the center of the Rainbow Bridge and look down. You can watch your Mommy from there! The best time to watch her is when she’s sleeping. You can visit her in her dreams. Even during the day, you can visit. She might catch a glimpse of you! This way she’ll know you are still with her albeit in spirit form.
Mommy is crying! I don’t want her to cry! I love her! Please Mommy! Stop crying! I’m fine! I’m not tired and achy anymore!
Mikkie, give her time. This is all the love that she has for you. It’s pouring out of her through her tears. The crying will eventually ease up but I know my granddaughter. Her mourning will continue forever. Now, Young Squire! What say you? Would you like to meet the rest of the pack? Berrie is eager to meet you! She’s a Chow Chow but your Mommy brought her up with poodles so she thinks she’s little like you.
Berrie? Was she her soul puppy like me?
Yes. Long before you. Your Mommy never thought she could love another puppy as she did Berrie until she saw your picture! When she saw your picture, she KNEW you and she were meant to be! Now, you’ve had a long journey. We’ll visit the Rainbow Bridge tomorrow to see how your Mommy is doing. OK?
Come on, Mikkie! I’ll show you the way! Iggie ran ahead, white ears flying in the breeze. Mikkie glanced back at the bridge and whispered I’ll always love you, Mommy! He ran after his brother through the wildflower meadow, a huge smile on his face and the thought no more pain floated through his mind.
The Rainbow Bridge…
Mikkie, my beautiful little boy! Do you see that explosion of colors in the distance? That’s the Rainbow Bridge! You need to cross this on your own. I can’t come with you. On the other side you will see nothing but beautiful blue skies, crystal clear streams and meadows filled with so many colorful flowers. And, if you want, there is a field full of snow for you to romp and pretend to be a snowplow! Best of all, you will never get cold! You will never be alone! Your brother Iggie will greet you on the other side and he will bring you to your Grandma and your Great Grandfather! They will be with all your canine and feline siblings and cousins. With them, you will be loved and always have a ready lap to curl up in and a set of arms for huge hugs. Please, every so often, send a sign my way to let me know how you’re doing! Miklos Istvan, THANK YOU for being my soul puppy! It is an honor being your Mommy and I will love you FOREVER! 💙💧💔
Friendships…
I have always maintained a small, tight circle of friends from the time I was a child until now. Two of these friendships impacted my life greatly and left lasting marks upon my heart.
The original best friend I met on the first day of 7th grade. From that day until about our junior year of college, we were inseparable. If one of us entered a room, the other was sure to follow. We even came down with viruses at the same time! When we graduated from high school, we held each other and wept, knowing that in September we would no longer see each other on a daily basis. We attended college in different states and before the age of the Internet. If this had existed, I think there might have been hope for our relationship as we could have emailed regularly. During my sophomore year of college, the most important man in my life passed away, my maternal grandfather. He provided a constant stream of unconditional love and emotional stability for my sister and me while he was alive. I took his death very hard. To this day I still mourn but not as severely as the first few years. When we entered our senior year of college, she informed me that I was too depressing to be around and walked out of my life. I was astounded, mortified and totally perplexed as I hadn’t really shared my thoughts with her regarding the loss of my grandfather. Shortly after college graduation, someone left the local paper open for me to see. It was my former BFF’s engagement announcement. I felt as though someone punched me in the stomach. Needless to say, I was not invited to her wedding. About 5 years ago, I found her on Facebook. I sent a friendship invite and, surprisingly, she accepted. Everything was going well but I truly wanted to know what had made her end our friendship. She alluded to a relative of mine who asked her to stop communicating with me. I pressed her – my big mistake – and told her I would not be upset with her but I wanted to know. She shut down all communication and blocked me on Facebook. My own stupidity. I have an idea who asked her. I believe it was my Mother. After Mom’s father/my grandfather passed away, she did everything in her power to keep my sister and I very close to her and that included turning down opportunities for both of us to study outside of the country or intern in a different state and accepting employment positions outside of the area we grew up in. Mom was rudderless without her father and I was lost without my best friend.
At the time I lost my childhood best friend, a new woman walked into my life. We met through our sorority. Whereas I was quiet and introverted, she was loud and brash and gave absolutely the BEST HUGS! We were two total opposites who came together to form an amazing friendship which lasted many moons. The first time we had seen each other in years, we ran to each other. Me, being the smaller of the 2, jumped into her arms and we just kept jumping around. We live in different states so if we saw each other once a year, it was a lot! But the telephone…thank heaven for Alexander Graham Bell! We talked EVERY DAY on the phone for several hours! Only one topic was off limits…politics. I am quite the liberal and she leans towards conservatism. Other than that the sky was the limit with our chats – cooking, sex, travel, finances, relationships, etc. You name it, we discussed it! We even FaceTimed when she and her husband were on a cruise but the ship hit a gale. She was PANICKING but I calmed her down, as did my sister, by telling her stories of various cruises we had taken when the weather turned foul. I listened and, when asked, assuaged her fears regarding relationships. I empathized with her regarding the dynamics within her immediate family and offered suggestions to ameliorate her concerns. The sorority that brought us together eventually proved to be a thorn in her side. Cliques had formed and she didn’t feel very welcomed during alumni events. I supported her when she opted to phase out of the get-togethers and only communicate with a few individuals. This woman was my backbone while I was going through personal trauma in my familial relationships. She provided strength when my tank was empty. She was my number two supporter when I lost my job, my sister being number one. She would brainstorm ideas as to industries to find a job all while she was on the job market herself! She formatted my resume and reformatted when I was about to throw my computer through a wall. She even took it upon herself to send out my resume to headhunters. Now this is where I am at fault. I have been unemployed for quite some time. She told me to follow-up with the headhunters. For some bizarre reason I thought she said not to! This plus another personal “mistake” she saw me making caused her to end our friendship. I haven’t heard from her since early spring. I know she lost an important family member after we stopped talking. I offered to come up to attend the funeral but she didn’t want me there. I sent a care package but it wasn’t acknowledged. I can’t fault her for this. It was an emotionally draining time. In September she blocked me on Facebook. She read something I had posted and came to the conclusion that it referenced her and our friendship when, in actuality it concerned my relationship with someone else. No amount of explanations would convince her otherwise. C’est la vie. What is done is done. With several months of silence under my belt, I can say I wish her well. I wish her health and happiness. I wish her joy. Most of all, I wish her nothing but a lifetime of love.
As I mentioned when I first began, I do keep my friendship circle very small. It’s a matter of trust. My oldest friend I met in nursery school. We can go for ages not talking but pick up the phone and the time vanished. Another friend I met when I attended sleep-away camp. We communicate every couple of weeks. She and her husband make me laugh. I have a “new” friend. We actually met almost 30 years ago but became close within the past year or so. We have a great deal in common with a love of art and music and problems with our families while growing up. Our conversations are all encompassing and I am learning to take in the ideas from a conservative perspective. She has also brought out my voice. I can’t make a living from it but I have been addressing societal inequities through my social media and in person. She and her husband ground me. They listen to me through my nervous laughter and endless tears. I love them to bits.
Cherish your friendships. These individuals are actually your family of choice.
Machiavellian Women…
Women have been attempting to break the glass ceiling in their respective fields for time immemorial. Suffragettes, with their blood, sweat and tears, paved the way for women’s right to vote and enter politics. Others, due to talent and intelligence, entered the workforce and were recognized for the gifts they provided to the arts and sciences. And then there were the intrepid adventurers who heeded the call of the sky and ocean. Terra firma could not hold these women down.
Two women who answered the siren call of the water, Captain Kate McCue and Captain Sandy Yawn, not only broke the glass ceiling but they extended a hand to those following behind. It didn’t matter if they were male or female but these two women have proven themselves to be incredible mentors who have been encouraging and teaching their subordinates on their way to their own individual careers.
There is a field that is somewhat related to the one the Captains occupy. This business is primarily dominated by women but they are nasty and cutthroat. The ones who have climbed to the top of the ladder withhold the glass cutter from the next group looking to better themselves. They ensure they clear out enough space for themselves at the top and, using their Louboutins or Jimmy Choos or Ferragamos, crush the fingers of the women on the rungs below them instead of giving them a hand. Mentorship is only for the ones they favor, not for the individuals who have shown talent or the ability to think outside the box. These women have no patience and seem to relish bullying their “underlings” for reports and information in order to maintain their relevance to the upper echelons. If this doesn’t work, disparaging their direct reports to their faces – and especially behind their backs – feeds their egos. I know of one woman who has worked for her company for quite some time. She applied for a new position within her organization, one that would provide her with more of a challenge. The company hired from the outside, never bothered to meet with their employee. The new person denigrated this individual and reassigned most of her work to another woman with little knowledge of the position and a lack of follow-through. A year after she was hired, she left for greener pastures but not before depositing a bee in the bonnet of anyone who would listen about her former subordinate. To this day, the original woman is attempting to make headway within her company considering all the toxic melodrama her former boss left behind. Machiavellian Women. The former boss is a deviously scheming individual as is the person she “mentored.” They took glee in tormenting a hard-working woman who was attempting to turn her job into her career after being interviewed in numerous periodicals and receiving accolades from her industry.
What the Machiavellian Women forget is that Karma is a bitch. She eventually catches up with one and all!
Mom-isms and Pearls of Wisdom…
Mom has been gone for 16 1/2 years but her words still live on with The Sister, The Hubby and yours truly.
The very first one I clearly remember was said with much love as she tucked me into bed and continued with the arrival of The Sister, “Nightie Night. Sleep Tight. Pleasant Dreams. Remember I love you very, very much.” To this day, I still recite these words to The Sister and The Hubby!
Pimpsqueak! What, you may ask, is this? She actually meant Pipsqueak when referring to a child but, instead, sounded as though she was pointing out a kid who was hiring out prostitutes!
Go eff a wall! Ouch! This was yelled at the individual who was annoying her at that moment.
Move it, Bluebeard! Uttered to drivers on the road who were puttering down the thoroughfare rather than going the speed she was comfortable with!
S/he’s 10 sheets to the wind! The actual saying is 3 sheets to the wind! We never figured out where she came up with this number!
A watched pot never boils. An age-old adage always said to me while I was impatiently waiting at the window for someone special to arrive who, notoriously, was always late.
You and your sister are my sheynes kinder. Her beautiful/beloved children.
Promise me you will always love and protect your sister. Don’t worry, Mom! We’re not ourselves if we don’t have each other!
Today is my birthday. I have entered a new decade. I wanted to share my Mother with whoever reads this. It is her Birth Day as well! She may have been born in May but she performed a difficult but loving job to bring me into this world many moons ago. I love you, Mom!
September 5, 1972…
Before the 1972 Summer break, during one of the weekly Sunday school sessions, our teacher mentioned we should truly take an interest in this Olympiad. This would be the first games, either Summer or Winter, to take place on German soil since 1936 and, especially, since the Holocaust took place during World War II. We were instructed to pay close attention to the Israeli team as they were our “brethren.” When one of the students asked why, the teacher responded that all Jews, no matter where they resided, were considered citizens of Israel. Summer, as is wont to do, passed quickly and the first day of school arrived. The class was abuzz with stories of our warm-weather exploits and how Mark Spitz and Olga Korbut fared in their respective events in the Olympics. We left for school that morning completely innocent and ignorant of the events that were unfolding at 31 Connollystrasse. Upon returning home, my Mother and Grandfather greeted me at the door with a huge hug each. This was standard for the first day of school as it was a Wednesday and my Grandfather’s “day off” except for early morning rounds at the local hospitals and any house calls he needed to tend to. The usual banter – how was the first day; who is your teacher; who is in your class; do you have any homework. I answered this all and politely asked if I could be excused to watch the Olympics. The “look” passed from one adult to the next. It was a signal to children that they had something very important to impart. My grandfather spoke. The games were on hold as a situation had occurred with the Israeli team and some unexpected guests in their quarters. My Mother nodded as her Father spoke to me. They could tell I didn’t understand and my Grandfather stated very simply, “The Israeli team has been taken hostage by a group of angry Palestinians.” More explanations ensued as I knew Palestine was the previous name for the area of land that Israel now encompassed. These people also claimed this area and were not inclined to share the same land with the Israelis and vice versa. There was more to the situation, my Grandfather stated, but this was for another time. I took myself into the living room and watched Jim McKay. I was permitted to eat dinner in front of the television, a luxury I was never accorded when my beloved Cincinnati Reds games were being broadcast to my area. I hoped my “brethren” would weather this ordeal and arrive on the other side unscathed but it was not to be. Mr. McKay’s face was on the screen, exhaustion and agony etched into his skin. “They’re all gone,” he said. Fifty years have passed. I have visited Munich and it is a beautiful city. It’s citizens are friendly and the food, although a little heavy with pork, is delicious. The past has not been forgotten but taught in the schools as “Never Again” is a mantra…a creed. Blame for the attack cannot be laid at any particular individual’s feet but the response, or lack thereof, can be laid directly on Avery Brundage’s shoulders. In 1936, when the Nazi party came to power and the world was gearing up to meet in Berlin for the Summer Olympics, Avery Brundage was the head of the US Olympic committee. Due to the Nazi’s mistreatment of Germany’s Jewish community and other groups, the United States had considered boycotting the Olympics. Brundage argued that sport and politics should be kept separate. The US team competed in Berlin. Brundage also had some US Jewish athletes replaced so as to not embarrass the host country. Move ahead 36 years and Avery Brundage was now IOC president. On September 5, 1972 he finally halted competition in the late afternoon, a good 12 hours after the hostage situation began. At the memorial the next day, he compared the deaths of the Israeli team to the problems occurring in Rhodesia. He allowed the games to continue after the memorial. The lives of 11 Israelis…11 Jewish athletes…did not matter. It was a political issue, not one of sportsmanship. The only issue was his blatant disregard for life and a latent case of antisemitism.
March 7th…
Today is not one of my favorite days. My Grandfather passed away 39 years ago today. He was the town physician, family counselor, resident King Solomon, and our Patriarch. It was a gloomy, rainy Monday when I received the call at school that he had passed away in his driveway after returning home from rounds at the hospital. I don’t remember much other than screaming and crying. I ran out of the house. I don’t even remember if I put on a raincoat but I do recall I was looking for someone. Who was it? I have no idea. I was in total shock. When I returned to my room, I don’t know where the rain ended and my ceaseless tears began. How could someone truly hold so much water within their body? I lived in a sorority. One of my sisters was so incredibly kind to cover the mirrors in my room and stow away my Grandfather’s pictures. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I wasn’t terribly observant, at that time in my life, but maybe she knew my Grandfather was brought up Orthodox. To this day I hold nothing but love and gratitude in my heart for this woman who is an absolute Mensch! My Grandfather was my world…my universe… He was my Sister’s Knight in Shining Armor…Without him there was NOTHING! This was the same for my immediate family, my Grandmother, our extended family, friends and his patients! To all who knew him, he was a deity whom we placed on a pedestal and worshipped at his feet! With the gift of hindsight, I can honestly say he didn’t want this mantle. He was a gifted physician, this is absolutely true! He was a master diagnostician in every sense of the word. He knew how to listen, was able to hear concerns among his family, friends and patients thus enabling him to offer pearls of advice and recommendations. Unfortunately, he placed everyone’s well-being ahead of his own. He was mortal. He never lavished “Me Time” upon himself as he always made his down time readily available for those he loved. We, his world, whittled away at his energy, which ultimately took a toll on his heart. He left this life the way he wanted…going from rounds to office hours…but we were left wanting and floundering. I like to think he is up above, tending to angel wings, strolling among the clouds with my grandmother and reprimanding my Mother for leaving this planet far too soon. I hope he knows, wherever he is, just how much he is loved and missed.
Black History Month…
The other day I was running some errands, listening to the local news radio station when the reporter switched to what others would call a “puff piece.” The reporter interviewed Bonita J. Hamilton who has portrayed the role of Shenzi the Hyena in The Lion King on Broadway for a number of years. I wish I could track down the audio for this piece but, be that as it may, Ms. Hamilton is a natural educator! Every year for Black History Month she turns to her “cubs,” the young actors who portray the lion cubs Simba and Nala, and asks them, prior to each performance, to provide a piece of information regarding a Black historical figure. This, in my humble opinion, is sheer genius! The cubs have shared information on a wide array of people from Louis Armstrong to George Washington Carver to Dominique Dawes and Alfred L. Cralle – the inventor of the ice cream scoop! Previous cubs have remained in touch with Ms. Hamilton and continue to send their “homework” to her attention every February! Ms. Hamilton, please create a Facebook page or a blog highlighting all the cubs have learned! Definitely maintain their privacy but I know I would love to learn more! I would like to share one tidbit I learned this month. Belinda Bennett is the first black woman to captain a cruise ship. She took over the captaincy of the MSY Wind Star in 2016!
Just Me and My Thoughts 