I MUST BE GETTING OLD

                                     I Must Be Getting Old


----- I’m sure we older siblings have had some experiences that indicate to us that maybe just maybe we are getting old a little older. Well, something happened to me the other day that did just that to me and I thought ya’ll may find a little amusing. Although I was alone it embarrassed me never the less. So here we go.

----- The other day I was sitting on my throne dans La Salle de bains, (bathroom). When I completed the business at hand I stood and attempted to pull up my pants. Well the coiled up jeans slipped out of my hands. Huh, go figure. The first thing I thought of was that the material just slipped out of my hands. So I try it again by grasping real tight and pulling up. I couldn’t do it. I could not pull them up. Huh, now what. But I didn’t give up yet. The next idea was that possibly the pants legs slipped into my deck shoes and I was standing on them. Not that farfetched. I kick off my shoes and attempt this difficult task once again. This time I pull so hard I almost fell back onto that throne of mine I mentioned earlier and I know I felt a sharp pain in both my ankles. Still I failed. Now I’m thinking with no shoes on it must be that I’m standing on the pants legs. So, I jerk on the bottom of the legs of my pants to be sure there is no part of those damn jeans under my feet. All clear for another test run. I grasp not only the waist but also the pockets and about another four inches below the pockets and again I pull. No good, I c-a-n-n-o-t get my pants up. Now I worry because I’m thinking get the phone call 911 and have the medics cut the things off me before I lose circulation in my feet or wake up Cheryl for assistance. At the time I couldn’t make up my mine which would be worse. So I decide in my panic state that I should do just a little more investigation before I go to those extremes, right? I found the problem. And I’ll tell you what it was by asking ya’ll a question. Have any of you ever tried to pull up your pants with your damn draws around your ankles.

----- I began laughing hysterically to a point of tears. As I walked out of the bathroom I ran smack into Cheryl who was just waking up from working a 12 hour shift the night before. She looks at me crying from laughter and asks, “What were you doing in there that is so funny.” I could only reply by looking her in the eyes and saying, “Taking a S _ _ T.” She just shook her head, went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. That was the only time we ever mentioned the incident.

----- So I guess I have to admit that, “I Must Be Getting Old Older.” I sure hope you are all amused by my simple disaster.

----- Later,

--- L-U-A,

----- Peter/DPOPPA

----- P.S. I didn't have any poor circulation to my feet and no damage to either one of my ankles. Go figure !!!!! Then let me know what it is you figured out !!!!!

----- Later,

----- P.S.S. GEAUX SAINTS

I’m back and I’m better than before, (I think!!!)

I’m back and I’m better than before, (I think!!!)

----- Allo Avraybodie. Yes I’m back. Thanks for all of ya’lls patients in waiting for me to get straight with my new computer. I’m still working on getting used to it though. I’m using the new Windows 7. I love the program but it is very different then the other windows I have used. There are a lot more features and you can do a lot more different things with this Windows 7. It’s still going to take me quite a while to get it all straight and used to it all. Even the new key board is so sensitive I have to learn how to use my fingers all over because my other one was very old and the keys were not anywhere near as sensitive.

----- We also have our VHS player, video camera, a LP album player and a scanner all connected to the computer. And very shortly will have our TV hooked UP to it also. So this gives us the capability of putting any size home vids we have, any pics and any size music records or cassette recordings we have and download it onto the computer then edit it and make either CD’s and/or DVD’S in any combination. The down fall is that now I have to learn all these different programs and start downloading everything we have onto the computer. So that’s going to leave me with less time to blog or E-mail all of you. But I’m going to try for at least once a week.

----- I have been keeping up with I think almost everything on the computer at work. So I’m using this first blog for everyone to get me up to speed on anything ya’ll think I need to know and on how everyone is doing. How’s Mom’s breathing? How is Simone doing now after her knee surgery? She ready to go to Memphis yet? So come on and let me hear from all of you. Oh yea, also did anyone get Simone to start blogging and E-mailing?

----- Well, that’s about all for now I have to get busy downloading info onto the computer.

--- Later,

----- L-U-A,

------ Peter / DPOPPA

SO MANY GOD'S

----- Through out recorded history and time there has always been God’s around. I really enjoy the ancient Greek God’s. They even had battles and wars between themselves. Some of them feared some of the other God’s because of their position within the group. Some of them were hateful, some mean, some loud, jealous, revengeful, rage, regretful, you name it. Any emotion Man is capable of the Greeks had a God for. Some even had children. These God’s are interesting and fun to look into. Each has a history within themselves. However, fun stuff for the God’s sometimes lead to disaster for the people who worshiped them.

----- The American Indians have neat God’s also. They have a God for everything. Sun God, moon God, sky God, earth, rain, water, wind, etc.,etc.,etc. They were kind of like Cajun people. We have a festival to celebrate just about everything from corn to crawfish and anything in between. The Indians have a God for just about everything. Like all God’s their God’s serve some purpose for someone at some time.

----- I sometimes wonder if Man didn’t invent some God’s just to have someone to blame things on. God’s are prayed to for wishful things someone wants to happen. If it happens the God is praised and shown thanks. If it doesn’t happen it was just God’s will. If something bad happens God's can always be blamed for the event.

----- Any way there are “SO MANY GOD’S.” I thought this would be a good place to enter this writing which I wrote, again, many years ago. Hope ya’ll like it.

"SO MANY GOD’S"

My God is not universal,
And I use him not as a crutch.
He lies within me,
And he does as much good as he must.
We do not do what we have heard is right,
And we do not do what we have heard is wrong.
We act, think, protect and defend,
What we feel inside,
Where my God lies.

----- These feelings inside are more then enough to keep me happy, sad, content, wondering and occupied for as much as I wish to be for all eternity.

----- Yes, these feelings bottled up inside me are not only my religion but also my God.

----- If by some miracle I come to learn and understand all which is in me, then and only then will I be able to even attempt to search and seek-out your God.

----- However, until such a time occurs ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

My God is not universal,
And I use him not as a crutch.
He lies within me,
And he does as much good as he must.

--- By,
----- Peter Collins

LES CHERAMIE

LES CHERAMIE

----- Yes, I am the now owner of the two rockers in the picture Lilly blogged. They have been repaired and redone many times but both still are in pretty good shape for their age. I don’t find much comfort as far as sitting in them but I really like them because I just like things that are old and antique. Cheryl loves them very much also. We have them both on our back porch we built together. I think this is a good time to talk about our loving Cheramie Grandparents. Ronnie, you will have to help and back me up on some of this being you have 3 years memory time on me. And my memory is shot; I figure, oh, some where about 10 years less then yours. My memory has gotten so bad I have to look at my driver’s license to check my address to find my way home. (And I quite drinking,,, go figure!!)

----- Grandpa was a soft spoken, kind, gentle, placid, patient, wise man who had an uncanny ability to tune out Grandma’s voice at any given time as he wished for a number of reasons. I love him to death. Although I didn't know it at the time but today I consider him one of my bestest soul mate. He was great with me and to me. He learned me a lot. He would take me to Pardiock, (serious SC, The Camp on the way to Grand Island where we sometimes hung out.) Here he learned me to fish, trap, cast net for shrimp and mullet and how to just get along with nature. Boy, that man could throw a cast net. He could fully open a 16 foot cast net with ease. I caught a lot of fish through out the years with him by my side. We also used to take some of our family summer vacations there. But the special times to me was when he and I or maybe he, Daddy and I would go alone. These were very, very special times for the three of us. I once had a collection of orange, front teeth from Nutria that we had trapped which I used to love to save.

----- Hay, Ronnie, here’s one for your memory speaking of Pardiock. Do you remember the time we were there on vacation or for the week end or something like that and took the camps pirogue out on the little lake, (actually I think it was more of a wide canal rather then a lake) right in front of the camp and began sinking because it was leaking so bad. And I do believe we were warned not to take it and we took it anyway. We were so worried because we knew by now we were going to get caught. So we began bailing the boat and we bailed and bailed and bailed and end up having to “abandon pirogue” anyway and swim to the bank. After reaching dry land we watched as the pirogue sink before we went inside to tell our “survival story.” It was YOUR fault. I didn’t want to take the pirogue you made me. I was the good kid; you were the evil one who talked me into everything. Boy Momma and Daddy were pretty P _ S _ _ D OFF. But again it was Grandpa’s show of patience that saved our A _ _ _ S that day. Grandpa recovered that pirogue, fixed it and continued to use it for as long as I can remember.

----- I remember always wanting to go to “The Hotel” to visit Grandpa. When I would ask Mommy and Daddy both would always tell me “No, I don’t want you going over there bothering your Grandpa.” But I quickly learned if I said I wanted to go see Grandma then that was alright. Duhhhh, what do you think I would ask for then ??? You got it, “Can I go see Grandma ?” They would respond the same every time. Duhhhh, like they didn’t know the difference. I’d go over there for baya catfish fishing learn me lessons. Once a year the Town of Golden Meadow would have a children’s fishing rodeo. Of course, in Golden Meadow, the only fish caught in the baya was catfish. He learned me how to cast, where to cast and how to use “available bait.” “Available Bait” now that is a whole story in itself and we will have to come back to that later.

----- But for now, before I forget, HAAAAY, Ronnie, here is another story for you to try and remember. Daddy used to love to tell this story which I call “The Duck Story.” Daddy used to tell this story, which was half true and half made up funny story, all the time like he enjoyed doing concerning his children. I know he had at least one funny story for each of us. This is one of his funny stories about me. Here we go. -- For one of these rodeos I was fishing next to our neighbor Bobby Chouest. He was getting ready to cast his line out and hollowed “duck.” Instead of ducking down, supposedly according to Daddy’s story, I looked up and said “where.” And Bobby’s hook hit me and embedded itself in my skull. I was taken to Dr. Guavwa, (another serious sc, but ya’ll know who I mean, there was only one Dr. in Golden Meadow at that time and everyone went to him. With the GREAT nurse whom I can’t remember her name for nothing in the world right now. RONNIE, what was her name, I know you know.) had the hook removed and was warned about a possible concussion. (Of course, I didn’t know what that meant back then but it sounded serious and that's what I wanted so everyone would fell sorry for me. And they did.) Bobby had some very heavy lead pieces on the end of his line so he could cast out further, which hit me behind my ear. That caused more damage then the hook. But what I really remember is the attention I was getting from everyone in the neighborhood while I laid on the couch. Everyone come by to see how I was doing and being so concerned and worried about me. (especially Donna) What I really liked was all the attention I was getting, which was LESS attention you were getting from anyone. Naa, Na, Na, Naa, Na.(LOL)

----- Back to “Available bait.” Grandpa learned me how to use bread as bait. He learned me how to take bread and roll it and press and roll it and press it over and over again until it was very hard. Then he learned me how to put it on my hook and roll and press it once more so it wouldn’t come off when it got wet. He would take me to the baya across the street from “The Hotel” on the side of the “Barber Shop." (Which is the barber shop Lilly bloged in that picture of the high water from the hurricane.) This is where we had planned in advance where I would be fishing for the rodeo. We fished there a lot but caught very little. I was so worried about fishing there and not being able to catch anything for the rodeo. But Grandpa reassured me that it would all be alright. I couldn’t understand it at the time.

----- I’m guessing, about a month or so before the rodeo, he would take me every day to the spot we had chosen on the side of the baya where I would be fishing. ( Next to the barber shop.) He had me tie bread on the end of a string (no hook used) and feed the fish. We would use the string so the current or the tide wouldn’t carry the bread away. Duhhhh, what is this called ?? “Baiting” the fish. Come the day of the rodeo, everyone else was using fish pieces, shrimp and other types of expensive baits, what was I, the poor boy who couldn’t afford bait using,?? BREAD.!!! When everyone else was using their expensive bates and casting far out, I was using bread and fishing right next to the bank. All the other kids thought I used bread because Grandpa was poor. And they thought I fished close to the bank because I was too week or didn’t know how to cast out further. Now we all know the real story. I never got a ribbon for the biggest fish but I got quite a few for the most fish caught. The man was a Genius. I will love him always. I can’t wait to run into him after my death along with our other family fisherman like: Daddy, Larry, Joe, Pat, Doc and who ever else are there waiting for all of us.

----- Here’s one for you Mikie. I don’t think you are old enough to remember Pardiock. (again, serious sc) I will refer to as the camp from now own because I can’t spell it. (Is camp spelled right ??? Close at least huh ??) ----- OK, Back to the story Mikie. Although you are too young to remember the camp perhaps you heard stories handed down through your family over the years. Why you ask ?? Because I believe this camp was actually owned by one of the Plaisance families. I think it was either your Grandfather, Great Grandfather or possibly your Great, Great Grandfather who owned this camp who would have been about the same age as Grandpa. Grandpa was the care taker of the camp. He would also take people out fishing and hunting on request for your Grandfather which I believe was for business purposes. To guide, cook, etc, for their guest. Know what I mean ?? Remember this is how and what I remember about it but I was pretty young myself back then. Yes, Mikie, I was young once, a long time ago maybe, but once. In the end I believe the camp was destroyed by a hurricane. Don’t know which one but it was one of the earlier ones I’m almost sure. However, before the hurricane got it there was a problem of some kind between Grandpa and the owner and none of us including Grandpa ever went back to that camp again. I’m not sure what the problem was but I think there was an argument of some kind, possibly about the sale of the property and camp to someone else. Perhaps to the tune of Grandpa felt he should have been given the chance to purchase it first because he took care of it for so many years and it was not offered to him at all. I’m not really sure about all this. It just sounds familiar. But it’s possible I dreamt the whole thing. Not that it matters anymore or never even did perhaps. Ask around your family and see what you come up with. Ronnie, maybe you can shed some light on this one also. The rest of you are way too young, Larry is no longer with us and Simone refuses to participate with our blogging it seems like. So it’s up to you OLDER SISTA, to help keep me straight on such matters. Let me know what you come up with Mikie.

----- NOW, Grandma, that was a different story. From what I remember anyway. She also was kind and gentle in her own way. But she definitely was not soft spoken, placid OR patient, if you know what I mean !! However she was very loving and caring, with me anyway, most of the time, OK Ronnie, some of the time, OK, OK, Ronnie, now and then ALRIGHT ???? Poor Grandpa. She was always riding him for one thing or another. Remember what I said earlier about his uncanny ability to tune out her voice ?? Nowwww, we know why. (LOL) Any time I think of her I can’t help think about how much she used to fuss. Grandpa no longer argued with her. It did no good. He would turn away from her, say what he had to say so she could here him and go about his business. Which is what he was going to do before the argument anyway so why bother. But she was like that with just about everyone. She was something for sure. But I loved her no matter what.

----- You know what I remember most about our relationship which I now think was kind of strange but true ?? Well, this requires another story. I didn’t think it was a big deal back then. Maybe because I was young and thought that this is the way it is or should be,,, BUT, here we go. Grandma spoke no English. I mean none. Ohhh, maybe a word here or there but her English as for as I’m concerned was zilch. And I spoke no French what-so-ever. And when I say none, I mean none, not a word. Yet we always understood each other when we spoke. Even when there was no one around to hear us or to interpret for us. Grandma would speak French and I would speak English. And not just one or two word phrases but actually whole total conversations. And very seldom had a misunderstanding. No big deal to me back then but today I find it truly amazing. I can’t do this with other people. Not in this time zone anyway. I can still hear my name being called very distinctly by three distinctly sounding voices by three different people in my childhood. I can’t tell who was the loudest of the three but I can still hear the urgency and shrill in all three of their voices. One, of course, was Momma, another was Jeanette and the third was Grandma. Some times when I knew Grandma wanted me to do something that I didn’t really want to do I would go to the back yard, jump her fence and cross the empty field so I could get home quickly. I would be back in our front yard and I could still hear her screaming my name like she thought I was still there. Mommy would ask me why Grandma was calling me and I would respond by saying, “ I don’t know Mom, I told her I was leaving and coming home. She’s old she probably forgot I left.” (Oh God, forgive me for that there, I really didn’t mean to do those type of things. It’s my sister that makes me do those kind of things, God. Yes, God the one named Veronica. Yes that’s the one.)

----- I wrote a song called “La Pestoch a Tont Na Na.” (sc it means “The Peanut of Aunt Na Na.”) Can’t explain the song right now. I’ll just say this. I know there already exist a French song by this name but the words are different in my song. I’m not trying to copy. Anyway the important thing is that in front of the song is a story about how me and Grandma used to talk to each other. I’ll have to pass that by ya’ll one of these days. But the story and the song is a post that needs to be blogged by itself. Maybe some other time.

----- Well, these are just a couple of stories about Grandma and Grandpa Cheramie that came to mind when I saw the pictures Lilly posted on her blog. Hope ya’ll enjoyed them.

-- L-U-A,
--- Later,
----- Peter

IN GOD WE TRUST

All my life,
I searched the rainbow,
And beyond,
For the shepherd,
And his sheep.

I have found,
That humans,
Are as vulnerable,
As the sheep.
And the sheep,
As weak as,
You and me.

This is why,
The shepherd,
Closes his eyes,
But never sleeps.

And the flock,
With their heads,
Lowered into the grass,
Are so grateful,
They follow him,
From field to field.
Or each other,
Over the cliff,
If that’s the way,
The shepherd guides,
Them from the fields,
To the rainbows,
And beyond.

---By,
----- Peter Collins

HUNTED BY DEATH

Life’s Uncertainties

----- For years Death hunted me. Made me seek shelter where I wished not to be. Made me look at things I wished not to see. Forced me to listen to cries I wished not to hear. And it remained that way year after year.

----- I no longer fear Death. That is no more then life itself. Of course, life itself can be quite fearful. At times Death can seem like the only way out. But this idea to some is fruitless thinking. For it has been told that there is life, even after Death.

----- However, life is so uncertain and Death so definite. For certain everyone and everything will, without a doubt, one day die. In fact, one may as well say “Death is the only certainty there is to life.”

----- I’m no longer hunted by Death. I don’t allow it. I no longer seek shelter in his shadows. Now I look only at things I wish to see and for the truth. And I hear only what I allow to enter into my ears. Things have changed throughout the years.

----- So fear not the cloak and sickle for I am certain he is coming. It is a waste of time to fear such certainties. The question is not if Death is coming. The only question is when and how we are going to die, not if we are.

----- I’m no longer haunted by nor do I fear Death. And I never will again, not even for just one year

----- By,
- Peter Collins

I GAZE INTO THEIR EYES

----- The only way to view one's soul is through their eyes. To see what type of heart they possess is to view their soul.It's not as easily accomplished as it sounds. For one thing the person doing the gazing must be aware of this. Many times I have known two people to gaze into each others eyes and saw nothing. Why ?? Because they did not know what they were looking for nor what the possibilities were of what they could find. The person being gazed upon must also be aware of this and allow it to happen or have no knowledge of it and the gazer can sneak in without them knowing about what is going on. It is easier for the gazer to sneak in and here is why. Even if the person whom you wish to gaze gives you permission verbally and consciously does not necessarily assure you a free pass to the inside. And here's why. The heart and soul sometimes denies the brain for their own protection and will block any such entry. These are the reasons why I say that to gaze into one's eyes and view their heart and soul is not as easily accomplished as it sounds.

I GAZE INTO THEIR EYES

----- From the time they were born, even at birth, I gazed into my daughter’s eyes and I could see, “my little girls” inside. I knew things would change as time went on but I always wondered what I would see as I gazed into their eyes. I always wished as I gazed I would see “my little girls” by my side, at least in their beautiful eyes.

----- As time went on, so did they change. From crying to crawling and calling out my name. Then from crawling to walking came a big change and I wondered if they were to be. But I gazed into their eyes and still, “my little girls” inside, I did see.

----- Then there was upper grade school, high school, band and other activities you see. Like dating and prom that I knew would come indeed. And still I could gaze into their eyes and see “my little girls” inside, I could see.

----- From childhood to adolescence and beyond I did not like, for surely I would loose them to some other light. As young adults they did meet another whom they did seek. Then came marriage and they did leave but I did tell them that they would always be, “my little girls” that I would always need. And at those precious moments, even through happy tears, I gazed into their eyes and “my little girls” inside, I did see.

----- But now I can’t help but wonder what life will bring. As adults I know they will change even more. Will they remain the same ?? How can they with life as it is and what they must go through to live as we did. Just getting older and facing the challenges of life will be hard and a great fight. When worst comes to worst there is always one thing that I hope will remain the same. And I can’t help wonder if it will be. Will there be a time when I gaze into their eyes and no longer see “my little girls” inside.

----- I know there is a God in Heaven and Angels up above so they will always be loved. But will my wish always be granted ?? I wish through good times and bad that always and when ever I could gaze into their eyes that I would see “my little girls” inside, looking back at me.

------ Dedicated to My Girls,
---------- By Peter Collins / Poppa

LARRY'S BIRTHDAY MEMORIAL

THE TRIP

----- It’s early Sunday morning August 30th 2009. Cheryl and I have boarded our Subaru Forester and are heading for Spring Texas. Irene is having a memorial mass to celebrate Larry’s birthday. Spring is just North of Houston. I hate, I mean absolutely HATE to go to Houston so I’m going to try to avoid going through the city. How you ask ?? I’m going to take hwy. 105 from Beaumont to Conroe. (I have not used this hwy. in years.) Then travel south from Conroe to Spring. Then use the directions I got from Goggle Maps and the address Thaisy E-mailed me to attempt to find the Church. We were supposed to meet everyone at 12:30 p.m. for a 1:00 p.m. mass. We got lost 3 times. We always get lost 3 times. I mean, like, this is a family tradition. Any time we go anywhere we get lost 3 times. We finally made it to the right street and are now looking for the address of the church. We are checking the address on the buildings on the right hand side because we figured the address is even numbered on this side. We went up and down the street 3 times. Yes, I said 3. I told you family tradition. I finally pull up into any church parking lot knowing that this is not the correct church. I attempt to call Thaisy and I’m told phone is not in service by some uncaring voice which is only a recording, of course. So I attempt to call Yuri. Ahhh, he answers only to tell me that he is following Thaisy and don’t know where the church is and that I should call Thaisy. Did that already Yuri. He says “I’ll call Thaisy and have her call you right back.” While waiting for Thaisy’s phone call I look at the church mail box and see the address which is one number off the address we are looking for. Guess what ?? Yep, we are right across the street from the church we are looking for. We just never looked on that side of the street. Thaisy calls, we explain what the deal is and she tells us she will be there in 4 minutes. They have GPS in Ray’s truck. How nice.

THE ARRIVIAL

----- About 4-5 minutes after Cheryl and I have crossed the street in drives Thaisy, Kass and Ray in Ray’s truck. Right behind them is Yuri and his girl friend whom we met for the first time. We all say our hellos and get our kissed hugs and chit chat a minute. I felt all the hugs were really nice and heart felt. You know what I mean ?? Really good, sincere hugs, like, everyone really meant them. It was a really special hello… Then we all go inside the church and there to greet us at the door was Irene. I believed she got teary eyed when she saw us. I don’t believe she expected to see Cheryl and myself there. More hellos and hugs all around. We also met several people who were good friends with Larry and Irene and they all told me to make sure I said hello to Mom. Mom visited Larry and Irene and met all these people and they all wanted to tell her hi. So make sure one of you tells her, OK ??

THE CHURCH

----- Saint James the Apostle Catholic Church was beautiful. I wish I could give ya’ll a detailed description but it would take me another 3 or 4 pages to do so. But I will tell you this, there was, like, an indention in the wall behind the alter where there was Jesus on the cross. It was no little hole it was very large. I estimate the cross to be about 20-25 feet tall. Forward from that on each side was a very large flat screen T.V. where they would flash up the words to the songs the choir was singing. Very nice to sing along. Except the mass was all in Spanish so the songs and the words on the screen of course were Spanish, which was about useless to us but nice never the less.

THE MASS

----- The mass was a full mass with singing and the whole thing. This was the church and the mass Larry enjoyed the best. The entire mass was done in Spanish, which was very nice. It kind of reminded me of the French masses “down the baya” except in Spanish. Larry and Irene would rotate between this mass and the English version every other week. The music was real nice and I suspected that’s only one reason Larry enjoyed coming to this mass. There were 3 Spanish Guitar players and 7 singers doing the different vocals. Some times I felt like I was at a Fiesta and wanted to dance. The music reminded me of Mexico when Larry and Loupe would take me partying. But I didn’t dance with Cheryl being with me and all. (LOL) Although I didn’t understand the words the mass was the same and you could tell what was going on. It was a really beautiful mass. We enjoyed it. Irene kept apologizing for the mass being in Spanish and I had to keep reinforcing her how much we enjoyed it and was glad she invited us.


THE CELEBRATION

----- To celebrate Irene brought everyone to Larry’s favorite Mexican restaurant which was owned by Irene’s son. We met the son who was a very nice man and greeted us with great respect. We were served our drinks of choice and water. Then came bowls of different dips with chips. The chips were very, very light. You could almost see through them. I know I tried. I first tried the red dip which was kind of hot as most Mexican salsa dips are. Next I tried the green dip which I thought would be guacamole type of dip. NOOOOT. It was so hot I started choking on it. I mean HOOOOT. I started using the red dip to try and cool my mouth off. It was so hot I became dumbfounded and didn’t think about drinking the cool drinks in front of me. Cheryl had to remind me. So if ya’ll should go out to eat with Irene, her family and / or her friends,,,, DON’T EAT NOTHING GREEN. (LOL,LOL) After the choking event came the main meal which was done in buffet style. There was refried beans, Mexican rice, both flour and corn tortillas, both chicken and beef grilled with onions and other veggies in there. The chicken and beef were in different trays not mixed together. All was very good. It matched any of the Mexican restaurants we ever ate at before. All was good, the atmosphere, the food and the company.

THE GOOD BUY

----- Now it was time for everyone to leave and there were more kisses and hugs all round. (Even Ray is getting used to me hugging him,,, but no kisses Ray,OK. Ha, Ha.) Of course the good-buy hugs and kisses are not quite as nice because everyone is going their separate ways instead of saying hello. But still nice. Irene thanked me over and over again for coming. She was touched by us all. We all made promises to get together again and more often. Thaisy, Kass, Ray and Yuri are thinking of coming down some time for Mardi Gras. They always wanted to do Mardi Gras but never got the chance. Maybe next one. I hope so.

THE RETURN TRIP

----- Coming back home was a nice ride for Cheryl and I. We had enjoyed our day and all the company. And if any of you ever need to get any where north of Houston I do recommend you take hwy. 105 from Beaumont to Conroe then get on North I-45. There are a few small towns you go through where the speed limit slows down and a few traffic lights but it sure beats going through Houston

----- L-U-A,
-------- Peter

THE MORNING WAS BEAUTIFUL

----- This is the first piece I ever wrote except for things I had to write in school and such. I wrote it sometime between 1972 and 1975 when I was working on a push boat on the Mississippi River building and breaking down barge tows going to and from the North. This is also when and where I met my good friend from Californa, Jim Barry. I recently found it a few weeks ago. It really was only notes I wrote to myself which I was going to redo and improve. But I decided to write it in it's original form. I changed very little in it. So here goes nothing.

The Morning Was Beautiful

----- The morning was beautiful the day she left. But it was cold and cloudy the first night I spent without her. During the light hours of the day there were friends to occupy the thoughts of my mind. However, along with the darkness of night came this lonely, empty feeling inside.

----- As I lay here, arms and feelings unused, “Where was the turning point, why should we have to choose,” I think out loud. How could the laws of nature allow such a natural relationship to fade??? Ah, an obstacle!!! Is it possible, could Nature have overlooked??? No… But maybe, just maybe, I wonder??? I wonder if there’s a chance, a rare possibility to have a relationship, or feelings for someone that would be so natural,,, Naaa. Perhaps though, just perhaps. So natural that it wouldn’t be normal??? Normal, what’s normal??? Normal is,,, man I got to be going crazy!!!

----- Should my chain of thought wonder why and what or rather what and why? What did I do wrong??? why did she leave??? I should ask HER, YES, I should. I should question HER about these doubts I have imprinted on my brain. Maybe I’ve been drinking too much to think clearly. But the things she said, no,,, not the things she said,,, more then the way she expressed what she said.

----- Oh Lord the silence. The silence is,,, is deafening. It is actually deafening. I catch myself thinking out loud, “There’s nothing left, it’s all gone, all over with.” I know we had a lot of bad times but for God’s sake, the few good times we shared were by far more superior and dominating then all the bad times and agony in the world. I should have said something. I should have asked,,, HELL, I should have begged her to stay.

----- I have to stop all this. I have to stop thinking. Close my eyes. What use is it to close eyes when the mind is still open? She used to take these to help her sleep. Oh well, what’s good enough for her is good enough for me. I guess two ought to be sufficient with all the beer I’ve been drinking.

----- BEG I said. I can’t believe it. Why SHOULD I? Why should I lower myself to a degree of a peasant, kneeling before his queen??? No, stop. This is all wrong. I’m in the wrong frame of mind. I shouldn’t blame her for MY blindness, for My faults. After all she was only being honest. I should thank her. Ha, ironic, how could I possibly thank her,,, I love her too much. Well, no good giving up, I’ll again find a reason to believe.

----- Is it, no it couldn’t be. My mind must be playing tricks on me. Yes! That must be it.

----- So very deep in me, so badly I want her to be near me, to hold me. To whisper the words she knows so well to make me feel alive again.

----- I could have sworn I heard a knock, the knock, her knock. No, it couldn’t be, my mind MUST be playing tricks on me. OH, but that’s it! That’s the answer! I knew I would again find a reason to believe. Her knock, I’ll believe in her knock. Believe her knock WILL come and she WILL return to me. Her willpower, her spirit, her, her,,, her determination not to rejoin was very strong indeed. No,,, she’ll never change her mind.

----- I thought two would be sufficient to help me rest and to ease my pain. But it’s been hours sense I swallowed the last two, not to mention the hours of time which have past between them and the first two. And still, sleep refuses to rescue me from this endless arguing. With myself no less.

----- I think about the times we shared her and I. It appears to be a long time gone. Well I know it’s GONE for sure. But has it really been that long. During the light hours of the day there were friends to occupy the thoughts of my mind. Yes, occupied my thoughts so completely my memory cannot recall when I last had her with me, held her or called her mine. However, I do remember one thing in particular.----- The morning was beautiful the day she left.

----- Again the knock. The knock sounds so real. It must be her coming home. I couldn’t have possibly imagined the same identical sound, couldn’t possibly have mistaken the so familiar knock on the door. Da Javu, that’s it, an illusion, I’m actually imagining her knock like I have so many times before. Her knock WILL come and she WILL return to me. Believe it, I must. I simply must have a reason to believe. But, no, impossible, wrong again. She’ll NEVER change her mind.

----- Last two. Might as well indulge. If this doesn’t do the trick I’ll just put the idea out of my mind and wait to calliopes from complete exhaustion and frustration. Frustration ??? Where did that come from ??? One thing is certain, if I don’t go insane first, I surely will again find a reason to believe. Man! I just GOT to be going crazy.

----- I could never imagine, not even in my innermost thoughts, not even now, how a person could possibly fall so deeply in love that they would allow their emotions to over rule their reasoning. Would deny their brain the right to have power and control over their heart. I’ve heard and I’ve been told by many a wise men that love is the root of all evil. But how could one of man’s strongest, most treasured, most desired and most sought after emotion have any connection with evil? No, I refuse to accept it. I believe that a man must love in order to be loved and in return he must be loved in order to give love. Perhaps it’s the absence of love which is the root of all evil.

----- Absence of love is my present condition. So where is this so called evil??? Is it within me??? Where is this mysterious dark cloud??? Should I run and hide in the shadows??? What would I hide from??? Hide from this lonely, empty feeling inside me??? Is this the evil that comes with the absence or love??? How could one escape such a penetrating force??? If this is to last, it’s the worst evil which could be bestowed upon me. To live the rest of my life without ever loving or being loved again.

----- This time I’m positive. It’s not my imagination. It’s her for sure, I know it. All my doubts are gone, she has come home. It IS her knock. Not even with all her will and determination was she able to stay completely clear.

----- The question now is WHY has she returned??? Has she come for my benefit or has she come for her own satisfaction in order to witness the damage she has caused by departing??? Is it possible that this was all just a test??? She had no right to treat me like some type of toy to be experimented with before being handed over to a child at Christmas time.

----- ENOUGH of all this endless arguing and questioning. Why should I continue any longer when all the answers are as close to me as the door way???
YES ENOUGH. The time as arrived. I must let her in. She’s come home. This is the only real important matter for the time being. I love her and I must be held by her, must have her near me and must heart her whisper in my ear the words she knows so well to make me feel alive again.

----- Strange!!! For the first time sense our relationship began that I have finally admitted my true feelings toward her. At least to myself. Never to her. I do without a doubt love her. If I could have just told her all these feelings I have for her. But I didn’t. I must let her in and let her know what’s on my mind.
----- Why can I not move??? Why can I not budge to let in my true love??? She’s been knocking for such a long period of time. It was not my imagination but her all along. Her knock is getting louder, more tense. So why can I not move towards that door, to clearer skis. The realization is too unreal to except. Forgive me for all the pain I’ve caused you I didn’t mean to do this. I didn't deliberately plan this out come.
No words whispered now could make me feel alive again. I’m beyond words, however my wisdom is greater then it ever was or ever will be. Please forgive me.

----- The morning was beautiful the day he left.

Dedicated To The Experienced

By Peter Collins

I'M GOING TO TRY THIS AGAIN

Hi All,
----- I’m going to try and stay on line as long as I can. But if you don’t hear from me in a long time, you’ll know that I’m broke down again. (Still have to wait for Steve to get home to buy our new computer.) (LOL)

----- Next order of business, very important. I receiver an E-mail concerning a petition to sign and send to everyone you know after adding your name to the list. I’m sure all of you received it also. I added Cheryl and my name to the list but couldn’t figure out how to send it to everyone on my E-mail list. So I sent it straight to the address that was in the letter which was, commint@whitehouse.gov Within 2 minutes I received another E-mail from the Government saying that this address is no longer in use and gave me the new one which is, http://www.whitehouse.gov/contact/ I don’t know how to go about contacting anyone to let them know this. I do believe this is very important. So maybe one of you can forward this information to where it needs to go. Please let me know some thing about this.

----- We had an absolute blast Saturday night. Saw so many people I had not seen for so long. But I didn’t get to talk to them all. Just not enough time. But we did have fun. I bloged on Lilly’s site about the ages of Roy, Jeanette and out Aunts. Some one let me know their ages. Also if any of you got phone numbers and or E-mail address of any one who was there, please blog or E-mail them to me. THANKS.

----- Please, Please, Please,,,,Please, (I sound like James Brown) let me know when Simone gets her new computer and what her E-mail address is ASAP. Or some one show her how to blog so she can send it to me or some thing.

----- Time to go. I have to go cook supper for Cheryl and I.
----- TTFN,
--- L-U-A,
--------- Peter

I BET YA'LL ARE WONDERING AREN'T YOU

YYAAAAAAAAAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, YYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHOOOOOOOOOOOO,YYAAAAAAAAAAAAHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

-----ALLO AVERYBODY,

-----What’s all the Screaming about ?? I said, WHAT’S ALL THE SCREAMING ABOUT ?????? I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ?? I have a big surprise. I said, I HAVE A BIG SURPRISE. I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ?? I guess I should tell ya’ll. Do ya’ll think I should tell ya’ll. I said, DO YA’LL THINKI I SHOULD TELL YA’LL ?? I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ?? I guess I could tell ya’ll,,,, BUT,,,,, then It wouldn’t be a surprise any more. So do ya’ll want to be surprised now or later ?? I said DO YA’LL WANT TO BE SURPRISED NOW OR LATER ?? I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ?? Well I guess I’ll tell ya’ll now. I said, I GUESS I’LL TELL YA’LL NOW. I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ?? Would ya’ll show at least a little bit of curiosity. I said, WOULD YA’LL SHOW AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT CURIOSITY. I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ?? OK here goes. I said, OK HERE GOES. I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ??

-----Well that’s about it for now. Catch ya’ll on the next blog.

-----L-U-A,
-------Peter

Oh, but wait I didn’t tell ya’ll the surprise yet, did I ?? I said, I DIDN’T TELL YA’LL THE SURPRISE YET, DID I ?? I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ?? I sure wish ya’ll would pay attention. I said, I SURE WISH YA’LL WOULD PAY ATTENTION. I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ?? Never mine, if ya’ll don’t want to know then I won’t tell you. How do ya’ll like that ?? I said, HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT ?? I bet ya’ll are wondering aren’t you ??

-----Talk to ya’ll later,
-------L-U-A,
----------Peter

OH, BY THE WAY

P.S.-----Oh, by the way, Emily and Andre’ are pregnant. I said, EMILY AND ANDRE’ ARE PREGNANT. Now ya’ll don’t have to wonder any more.

P.S.S.-----We are all so excited. Can’t wait for the new Grand Baby.

LUV-U-ALL,
-----Peter,
Oh, sorry I meant to say,
-----Granpy

FARVORITES CONTINUED

-----I’m back!!!!! I thought the post “FAVORITES” was getting a little too long and I wanted to continue to comment some more so I’m continuing it here.

-----Ronnie, sorry but I can’t remember the name or how that concoction was made. I only remember that it was great. If I could remember I would try to make one myself. But boy it was good.

-----WOW, Do I ever remember The Rex Drive Inn. The greatest hang out ever. Bubba was the greatest waitress I have ever known or seen in my life. Boy and they had the best food too. I remember when I believed it really peaked was when the hot muscle cars came out and every one would drag race in front of “The Rex.” When the GTO’s, Chevelle’s, Mustangs’s, Dodge Dart’s and many more. Who had that red Dodge Dart? He was a friend of ours but I can’t remember his name ?? I remember one drag race in particular between Ernie and Fisher. They backed onto the highway in front of The Rex. Ernie’s GTO was about a 64 and he had it for I guess about two years or so. But Fisher had just got his brand spanking new 67 GTO. He maybe has had his for 3 or 4 weeks. They both backed up onto the highway in front of The Rex, some one singled them to go, Ernie shot out quick, smoking his tires. Poor Fisher. He tried to take off but he forgot his Goat was still in reverse. He busted his transmission and there were pieces of his transmission all over the road. He cried, we laughed. The Rex reminds me of the movie American Graffiti. All good memories in that place.

-----I knew about Danny passing but I sure didn’t know about Phyllis. How did she die ?? Was it sudden or was it expected ?? I also remember Danny’s little brother dieing by driving his go-cart under a truck in his drive way. That was a very sad time for us all I think.

-----BOY, I surely do really remember that “Bouray” game, now that you mention it. One of the few times I ever won anything at cards. And you are right I did pay for everyone’s drive inn that night. If I’m not mistaken we all met at The Rex.

-----A lot more good memories of “Down The Baya.”

-----Well that’s it for now. Oh, by the way Cheryl and I are probably going to meet Rosie on Grand Isle. But I think we are going very early Friday morning because Cheryl is working Thursday night. I want to try and do some crabbing. Hope to see ya’ll there.

-----L-U-A,
--------Peter

THE HEALING PROCESS

The very young man, with his shoulders back and his chest sticking out front, walks down the long airport concourse. Dressed in his military drab green uniform with his starched shirt and tie is looking for his departure gate. He never liked being late and always wanted to know ahead of time where he needed to be and when. He was way ahead of time for his departure flight that would take him home. So after finding his departure gate he began looking for what he really needed, a bar where he could have a very quite drink or a few and reflect on his past year or so of his life. He knew he was not of age to drink but was willing to gamble that it might not make any difference, with his uniform, to the server. He sits on the high stool and waits to be acknowledged. It doesn’t take long before the waiter comes to him and ask, “May I help you Sir ?” In his kindest voice he says, “Can I have a beer please?” “What kind of beer and do you have an ID, Please?” Miller Lite please and I do have an ID but to be honest, I’m not 21.” So the waiter ask him if he is just getting back from Vietnam because he notices the campaign ribbons on his uniform? Yes I was there for 10 months was the young mans response. The waiter smiles, says he will get his beer, just don’t cause him any trouble and forget about the ID.

Before his beer gets to him he feels a tap on his shoulder and he slowly turns to face a middle aged woman with a scorn on her face. “Did I hear you say you are just coming back from Vietnam, she asks?” Yes ma'm, that’s right he responds. She then spits in his face and slaps him across his cheek as hard as she can. The young man turns back towards the bar and takes a long drink of his beer. Another tap hits his shoulder and again he turns toward the woman. “Don’t you dare turn your back to me. How dare you, you child murderer.” She says. And again spits into his face. And as her hand goes up to again make contact with his face, he sees , at the corner of his eye, a black hand grab her wrist, and he hears these words so plainly, “You insult this fine young man once more and I will personally punch you out.” The man holding her wrist looks very stern and willing to deliver what he has promised. And also says, “I have a lot of money and quite a few lawyers to fight you on this matter.” The woman pulls her arm away from the mans grip and storms out cussing under her breath.

May I buy you a drink the black man says? No thank you I’m fine, says the young soldier. But I insist says the man, as he calls the waiter over, he says “Give this gentleman what ever he wishes for as long as he wishes,” and he puts $300,00 on the bar. “Sir this is not necessary, I appreciate it very much and thank you but I can get it from here.” “Thank me, THANK ME,” he said, “but no sir, thank you, thank you for all that you have done for me.” And he turns and walks out of the bar.

T hat man was none other then Sammy Davis Jr. And that solider was none other then ME.

True Story by Me,
Peter

FAVORITES

OK, I want to know what is ya’lls favorites. This is hard for me to answer but I’ll try. But I also want to know what is ya’lls favorites or is any of these some of ya'lls favorites also ??

Favorite movies:
Some of mine are:
“Planet of the apes”
“Star Wars”
“Harry Potter”
“Once Upon a Time in the West”
“Some Where in Time”
“The Time Machine”
“The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly”
“Titanic” (The newer one), (also love the music in this movie)
“King Kong” (All of them, but especially the one with Jessica Lang)
And there are many others, but that’s all for now.

Favorite Books:
Some of mine are:
“The Time Machine”
“The Hobbit” (My number 1 favorite)
“Treasure Island”
“Lord of the Ring” (Very Hard To Read!!!)

Favorite Recording Artist:
#1= Bob Dylan ( I truly believe this man is the most influential entertainer in the last at least 40 years.)

Dr. John
Van Morrison
Fats Domino
Bo Diddley
The Almond Brothers
Eric Clapton
The Band
The Traveling Wilburys
Roy Orbison
Janis Joplin
Bob Marley
Too Many to List Them All, But it’s a beginning.

Let me know if you ya’ll like any of these and add ya’lls own if you like. If you don’t know any of these just ask I shall try to give you an answer.

P.S. Lilly did you ever find, receive or have you read “The Time Machine ??”

P.S.S. Ronnie did YOU ever find, receive or listen to the “Ma Num Ma Num” song ??

That’s all for now. Hoping to hear from ya’ll soon.

L-U-A,
Peter

PICTURE PERFECT

I don’t think the three younger girls would remember “The Studio and Record Shop.” But I know the rest of us sure do because like myself and the “Older Ones” I think we all had our turns working there.

I started working for Daddy when I was 13 at my insistence of doing so. But that’s not exactly what this blog is going to be about. Not our work any way. But I remember Daddy working on color pictures. This was a time before color film. So how did he do color pictures. Daddy would sit down and actually color pictures by hand. Using what I believe to be oils like a painter/artist would use. He would take cotton balls and Q-tips and actually hand painted his pictures. He was amazing. I have asked many other photographers about this and I have not ever found or heard of any one else who ever did this but our Daddy. When ever I would walk into some ones home I would always look at their pictures that were displayed and I could always and I mean 100% of the time be able to tell if it was Daddys work or not. His hand painted pictures was flawless. This is one of the most fascinating things I think he did in his life. He was very artistic in many ways but this was to me by far his most professional artistic achievement. I just can’t find enough words or right words to express how good he really was. He did this some times for hours and hours none stop. I’ll never forget how good I felt about him when I watched him do this. This made him that much more amazing to me. He defiantly was truly one of a kind.

I don’t think I have one picture that Daddy colored this was. Do any of you ???

OK, lets here what ya’ll know about this.

L-U-A,
Peter

"DEE DEES TEE GROS BATOU"

HI GANG,

I didn’t realize that “Dee Dees Tee Gros Batou” would stir up so many comments. So I figured it deserved another blog. This blog is for two purposes: One: For a picture of “The Batou.” Every one start looking in all of your old pictures to see if ya'll may have one. I’ll do the same. However, I think that the picture I took and mounted on that piece of wood that I varnished and gave to Daddy is the only one that ever existed. But we may find it like in the back ground of another picture that was taken around the same time. I’ll be looking and I hope ya’ll will too. Another, however, is that I think the picture was offered to me and I turned it down saying it was for Daddy. It could have been thrown away because I didn’t want it at the time. Two: For more stories and adventures of “Dee Dees Tee Gros Batou.” I’ll start it off.

Let me start by saying that I believe that this “Batou” was the one that Daddy kept the longest. I know it’s the one that I had more fishing and shrimping trips in then any other. So here’s the first story which I know ALL of you either remember or heard about. And that’s the story he always blamed on Momma. It’s the story when Momma wanted to go fishing with him and he took her. Not that he agreed to but he had to or play H _ _ L for a long time when he got back. Get the picture ??? (LOL) Daddy backed up the “Batou” into the water and told Momma to keep her foot on the brake. YEA RIGHT, like she knew what a brake pedal was. I gave Momma her first driving lesson and believe me she had no idea what the difference was between the brake or the accelerator pedal. So before he could get back to the car after launching the “Batou” the car had backed up into the water and disappeared underwater. Ha Ha Ha Ha. But that wasn’t the funniest part. The “Batou” was just floating there still attached to the trailer but you could not see the trailer or the car. One of his fishing buddies came by who was returning from fishing and saw the “Batou” just floating there away from the bank and he asked Daddy, “Mai’ Frrrddie you need some hlp ??? You want me to bring yo both back to shore ?” Daddy responded by saying, “Mai’ non that’s alright I gottit ancored down REAL good.” Ha Ha Ha Ha, LOL,LOL,LOL,LOL. And he told me this without as much as cracking a smile, which made it that much funnier. GOD, I laughed rolling on the ground till I cried and cried with laughter. Daddy was really one
H _ _ L of a funny man. I’m crying right now just trying to blob this. I’m getting my key board all wet.

Hope ya’ll like this one.
Later, I have to go finish laughing. (LOL,LOL,LOL)

Peter

"I WALKED UPON THE SAND"

Once I walked upon the sand,
my brother and I hand in hand.
Made fires and camped you know,
where no longer any one can go.
Ate fish that washed upon the sand,
from shrimp boats we could see,
when we would stand.
Dug holes so deep,
so children we could see.
So we could protect them you know,
from the depths from down below.
Woken up late at night,
to be told we had no right,
to dig holes that might,
hurt others within their right.
So we laughed and laughed you know,
as we refilled the holes so no one would know.
The fun we had on the sand,
my brother and I hand in hand.

Once I walked upon the sand,
my lover and I hand in hand.
Snot nosed sister walked behind,
knowing that our relationship ,
was something fine.
My lover and I talked upon those sands,
knowing that we would always be,
hand in hand.
We loved each other,
as lovers should,
and hoped one day
we could have children,
maybe not so soon.
The children they did come,
and for a long time,
I was not able to walk upon the sands,
with my lover hand in hand.

Once I walked upon the sand,
my Parrin and I hand in hand.
Drank beer so slow,
knewing that he would know.
How we felt upon his death,
as we realated on his life,
and what he ment to us this night.
How I remember his hands,
showing me the things,
I didn't understand.
He was one heck of a man,
my grandfather,
whom I called Grandpaw.
He showed me how to use bread,
to catch fish instead,
of using other things that I had read.
He showed me how to trap,
nutria and other things,
still in their beds.
As strang as this my seem,
he was the world to me.
And although I never walked,
upon the sands,
with him hand in hand,
I will always know,
he loved me so.

So I hope for all of you,
to one day walk,
with some one you love,
hand in hand,
upon the sand.

By Peter Collins

"OH HOW THEY DID FLEA"

HI GANG,
This is one of my uncompleated works. I had it finished at one time but loss the entire thing when my computer crashed and I didn't have a backup. I worked on it for almost two years. What a loss it was to me, I cryed. So this is the first part of it. I don't have any idea when I'll complete it again. I thought you might like to see something I'm currently working on. And I would like to get your openion on what you think it means and where you believe it will go from here.

“Oh How They Did Flea”

Oh how they did flea.
Some put the blame on mankind,
some put the blame on Mother Nature,
some put the blame on God,
some put the blame on themselves,
to some degree.
But ALL did flea.

You could no longer see the Sun,
through the darkened skies,
filled with things,
some even alive.
You could hardly breath,
the air so thick.
Yet time went on,
like a clock that tics.
Oh but how they did flea.

The beautiful blue waters,
you could no longer see,
for they turned in color,
even in the seas.
They turned to black ,brown and green,
like a man bruised,
who was beaten down to his knees.
Oh but how they did flea.

The birds no longer sang,
no longer spread their wings.
For in the skies,
there was just too many things.
So they sat in the barren tree tops,
and looked down below.
Knowing sooner or later,
Man would surely, just have to go.
Oh but how they did flea.

They fled from mountains,
into the valleys.
They fled from the valleys,
to the highest mountain tops.
All looking for a place to hide,
but there was no relief,
not even inside.
Oh but how they did flea.

Some fled to the waters,
where large bubbles waited for them,
down below.
Some fled to the skies,
and beyond you know.
In large cylindrical objects,
they would go.
Oh but how they did flea.

Some were chosen to go to be leaders.
Some were chosen to go to be breeders.
Chosen by whom,
no one seemed to know.
Some were chosen for their Race,
some for their creed.
Some were chosen for their Color,
some for their religious beliefs,
to try and preserve,
what was now being destroyed.
why,,, is beyond me.
Oh but how they did flea.

The poor fled from the rich,
for fear of losing the little bit,
they had left and wanted to protect.
The rich fled from the poor,
for fear of having to support.
Having to give any thing,
to any one any more,
just seemed like a repeat.
Oh but how they did flea.

The weak fled from the strong,
for fear of being overpowered.
The strong from the weak,
for fear of their numbers.
The good from the evil,
for fear of being converted.
The evil from the good,
for they knew not where they stood.
All looking for a place,
down below or for a ride up above,
but this was not to be,
for they were not of the chosen few.
Oh but how they did flea.

Hope you like it. Let me know one way or the other.

L-U-A,
Later,
Peter

IRISH / CELTEC COLLINS FAMILY CREST, COND.

According to an old saying, there are two types of Irish-those who actually are Irish and those who wish they were.

This sentiment is only one example of the allure that the high romance and drama of the proud nation's history holds for thousands of people scattered across the world today.

It's a sad fact, however, that the vast majority of Irish surnames are found far beyond Irish shores, rather than on the Emerald Isle itself.

The population stood at around eight million souls in 1841, but today it stands at fewer than six million.

This is mainly a tragic consequence of the potato famine, also known as the Great Hunger, which devastated Ireland between 1845 and 1849.

The Irish peasantry had become almost wholly reliant for basic sustenance on the potato, first introduced from the Americas in the seventeenth century.

When the crop was hit by a blight, at least 800,000 people starved to death while an estimated two million others were forced to seek a new life far from their native shores--particularly in America, Canada, and Australia.

The effects of the potato blight continued until about 1851, by which time a firm pattern of emigration had become established.

The above is the Origins of Irish surnames.

On The World Stage:
Mary Cathleen Collins, Bo Derek
Pouline, Ray, Stephen, Annie, Bill, Tai,Jackie, Joan,Wilkie,William,Andrew,Billy,Ann, Phil,Bootsy,Catfish,Edwyn,Judy,Allen.Albert,John,Joseph 'Lighting Joe',Michael,Kate,,Doug,Jerry,John,Paul,Steve,A.E.J. All these important people had the last name of Collins.

If you want to know the history of any of them, let me know and I'll blog it to ya'll.

Hope ya'll like this. I don't think we have any Irish blood, I just think this is interisting.

LUV-ALL
Later,
Peter

VERONICA ANN, DO YOU REMEMBER

LOL,LOL,LOL SERIOUSLY LOL.
Was again thinking about some of you and I's good times to remember. Do you remember THIS: (don't know if this is spelled right and there is no spell check for this.) Hint; put a little music to it.

Mu Nu Ma Nu,
Do Dooo,,,,Do Do Do,
Mu Nu Ma Nu,
Do Do Do Do,
Mu Nu Ma Nu,
Do Dooo,,,,Do Do Do,
Do Do Do,,,,Do Do,,,, Do Do Do Do.

If you do remember,,,,, again,,,,,LOL, LOL,LOL. I'm in happy tears right now.
LUV-U
Later,
Peter

If you do remember, explain it to the rest of the clan.
Peter

COLLINS,O'Coilea'in,O'Cuillea'in

While in Tenn. in a Irish /Celtic shop I found a Family Crest of the Collins Family. Although we all know that our heritage is French, I found this interesting. In writing I understand the Crest is a Pelican. How ironic a Pelican, Louisiana, so fourth and so on. But the Crest I purchased was two lions facing each other on their hind legs and each touching the others front paw. The best I can understand, it all depends on what Collins family you follow or understand.
But here we go. COLLINS,(Coilea'in.) The surname Collins has a dule origin,it can be of Irish Gaelic origin, as an anglicised from of O'Coilea'in, a sept, who were located in Co. Limerick, as well as, the O'Cuillia'in who had their stronghold in west Co. Cork.(What all this means I don't know.) Then it says Bla,Bla, Bla Bla Bla. Collins now ranks as the thirtieth most numerous name in Ireland.Bla,Bla,Bla. The name being sixth most numerous in Co.Limerick.
MOTTO: The wounds of life (and) By valour and skill.
NAME variations include: O'Coilea'in(Gaelic), O'Cuillea'in(Gaelic),O'Collins, O'Cullane, Cullane, Collinson.
There is a lot more but that's enough for now. If you want to know more let me know and I'll blog. other information from time to time.
LUV-ALL
Later,
Peter

"THE SISTER FLUTIST"

Hi Ya'll, IIIIII'M Baaaaaack.
Cheryl and I had such a wonderful, GREAT time in Tennesse with our two Girls and our two New Sons. Too GOOD to explain at this time fore that is not what this blog is all about. But stay tuned for other blogs or E-mails about our trip.

This blog deals with a story I wrote quite a long time ago. Believe it or not, it took me about a year to write, and it still is not perfect. You will notice some of it you read in my blog titled, "SOUL TO SOUL." That is because that writting was my foot notes to this story. Sorry for the repeat.

I believe this is the best I have ever written. I hope you enjoy it.
LUV-YOU-ALL
Later,
Peter

THE SISTER FLUTIST


The beautiful young woman sits at the bed side as her tears fall upon her shiny silvery flute. The notes float pass every closed door down the long corridor, all the way to the nurses station. Not one person is able to ignore the lovely sounds coming from the only private room on the floor. No one listens to their hospital supplied radios or televisions. They are all too mesmerized by the girls amazing ability to capture her audience. And wondering how her life’s outcome will be, at the end of her performance.

As the gentle early morning rain drips upon the smoked colored glass, you can’t help wonder if the dawn will rescue her, from her deep pain and troubled thoughts. The long, black clouds are very low. It's dark, almost too dark to see. And the rain falls down upon her consciousness. She sits and plays her magnificent music, her mind wondering to another simpler situation, long ago, when she was just a child in the eyes of her loved ones.

The sun raises high above the dense clouds. The light is dull. And as the night ends, so does the music. She stands up from her bed side chair, bends over the bed and whispers into the ear of the patient. Then she straightens up and begins to separate the pieces of her instrument and pack then carefully into the black, leathery looking case. As religiously as a Christian goes to church every Sunday, this event takes place every night until the Sun rises. No one seems to know exactly who she is or specifically why she is there. But she knows. And although there isn't anyone else to notice, the unconscious patient, smiles as tears run down her pale cheeks.

Through the large revolving doors, down the old, gray, cracked up sidewalk, straight to the cemetery is where her walk ends. In front of the two identical tombstones is when the reflections of that similar situation long ago begin to stir her senses, again. The carved names are the focus points as she flashes back to years gone by, but not unnoticed. One reads “Mommie”and the other reads “Poppa." She wonders and questions the true safety and possibility of no return to this world and life of her one person audience. The words become crystal clear in her mind. Written by the person she refers to as “ Poppa.”

"I knew a man, knew him since before I was born. I knew this man by many different names. But for me, there was but one name. I always did and I always will call this man my Poppa. As a child when I was asked why this and not Father, Daddy or Dad. I would simply say because he's special. When I grew older and I was asked what makes him so special. I would simply say because he makes ME feel special, so very special to Him.”

As the young woman reflects on the past she remembers one day as she entered her home she saw her worst fear in her Mothers tears. As she said to her "Your Poppa is no longer near.”
Even as young as she was then she can still remember asking her Mother,“Oh, Mommie please can you tell me why, why did my Poppa leave?” Thru weeping eyes she responded to her daughters question by saying, “Death is only one of God's many mysteries.”
The child replies, “ Oh, Mommie I don't want to be mystified, I just want to know why, oh, why did my Poppa die?”

He always told her neither the havens above nor the fires down below could ever part their souls. She knew him well this man she called Poppa. The love he had for them and for the things that they did together is still as clear in her mind today as they were when she was a child growing up. He believed in hugs, kisses and tender fare wells. Just in leaving for work or saying good night right before bed. This he believed as we all do and he practiced it religiously as we all should. A day never went by that the children didn't hear "I love you." coming into their tender ears. She still remembers how he loved to hear her play. Music from her flute would make his whole day. Music unites our souls, he would say, even if we are separated miles and miles apart he would always reinforce. If ever either of them was lonesome or feeling blue. If ever they needed comport or to be reassured they need only to, "air their flute."

So, she “airs her flute.”

" Mommie " was easier to understand. There were no written words to decipher. And, the bonding was unmistakably the most loving, the most caring, and the most true unconditional love that could ever be between a mother and her daughters. And so unusual was the fact that they both considered their mother their best friend. These are the things which bonded the three of them soul to soul for all eternity. Yes literally soul to soul. Words and music, yes, words and music. The words shared between the three of them and the music the two of them played is what made it all possible. Possible for them to receive comfort and reassuring from “Poppa” and the best of love and friendship from “Mommie.”This is throughout all eternity simply by “airing their flutes.”
So, she “airs her flute."

The difference in her usual, predictable entrance was immediately recognizable and noticed by all whom new the routine. The dress changed from casual to beautiful lady like. Her slight smile showed strength, courage and strong will. Her stride even seemed sturdier and more sure footed. Her soul radiated conference and determination. The same soul that is so closely united with the other three. Two names on the tombstone and the unconscious, helpless, lifeless patient, she has been playing and praying for sense the very first day of admittance to this unit. Above all this, what was even more curious, is the absences of the black leathery looking case which housed the flute. Instead there is a flute in each hand. The very shiny silvery one everyone had seen and heard her play. So shiny it seemed you could see your reflection as well as looking into a mirror. The other was just as shiny, but the most impressive color of gold ever witnessed by the human eye. Across one arm is another change of clothing identical to the outfit she is wearing.

Just past the nurses station she pauses then turns back and announces that first thing in the morning the patient in the private room, and herself would be leaving the hospital. Please notify the doctor, nursing staff and any other concerning personnel. Although it was very nice to ask and offer, but no doctor referrals, transport arrangements or any other assistance would be necessary. This has been by far the most information voluntarily conversed by her to anyone. The physician is called, security is called and every one is put on alert to any number of possibilities. To observe, listen and wait for morning when the physician makes his rounds.

The music begins again. The sound is just as beautiful as ever. There is a calm which settles among all the employees who come within an ear shot of the room.

The music goes on thru the night. And just as dawn is braking thru the clouds, there is a hush amongst the staff. The physician walks onto the floor. Straight to the nurse’s station, very much confused and asking questions about the previous night’s performance and phone call his answering service received last night. A report is given and he proceeds down the long corridor. Half the distance between the nurse’s station and the patients’ room, he stops. Left foot forward, body slightly twisted to the right. He bowels his head forward and his ear turns to the only private room on the floor.

The music has changed and the physician turns to his followers and says, '' That is not one instrument, that is, '' he pauses and listens. '' that is two flutes being played,,,, listen! '' The music was magnificent before but now it was unbelievable. None of them had ever heard such tones and notes. Not from just two instruments any way and for sure never in the hospital.

They all rush to the door their anxiety at very high levels. The Physician slowly and quietly pushes the door open without even thinking about knocking, which is not his normal routine. As they all enter they can’t believe their eyes. Both women are sitting on the bed playing their flutes together like nothing has happened.

This patient has been basically in a coma for almost a week. The battery of test, physician consults, and phone calls throughout the world, everything that could be thought of was done and no diagnosis could ever be made. There wasn’t any medical reasoning why the patient could not or would not respond. And now here she is sitting on the bed playing her flute. Everyone just stands there listening kind of dumb founded until the song ends.

There would be no answers or comments to all the questions being bombarded at the two of them by a very confused staff. The two beautiful young women stand up from the bed each holding their flute in one hand and joining their other hand with each other. They walk to the door whispering to each other. Although there were some attempts to delay them they continued on their way as if nothing had happened until they reached the opening to the corridor. There they stop, turn to face each other, nod and smile at each other. Then the woman who had been playing her flute all week turns her head to face the astounded doctor and nurses in the room and smiles to them. Her only words were, “We’ll be back soon, but next time it’s going to be MY turn.”

As they walk towards the elevators whispers of speech between the two of them can barley be heard. One asking questions so rapidly she could hardly be understood. And the other was attempting to answer her as quickly as she could. There seem to be many questions. “How are they? How was it there? Could you actually hear me playing ? Did they like what I played ? Did my playing help your time there ?” Were you in Heaven? Did you see other people there? When can I go?”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold on a minute.” The other one says. “They are very well. Yes you will go, they are waiting very excited to get to see you. We heard you playing the whole time I was there.” “But I didn’t play the whole time, only from the time I got off work till dawn.” “Time is very different there so we were able to hear you the whole time. And no it’s not Heaven but a place between here and there. Only under special circumstances can any one do what we have done. It’s a very rare and beautiful experience. I’ll explain everything to you within time but there is something very important we must do first.” Then the elevator doors close and they are gone.

Through the large revolving doors, down the old, gray, cracked up sidewalk, straight to the cemetery is where their walk ends. In front of the two identical tombstones is when the two young women simultaneously raise their instruments to their lips.

And The Sister Flutist, “ Air Their Flutes.”
The Beginning,

By Peter Collins

SOUL TO SOUL

Hallo Avery Body,
I wrote this many years ago. It began as foot notes for a story I wanted to write. But I ended up writing a poem instead. However, there is a story which came from it. And I'll probably be posting when we get back from our vacation in Tennesse. Hope ya'll like it.

LUV-U-ALL
Peter

“SOUL TO SOUL”

I knew a man.
Knew him since,
before I was born.
I knew this man,
by many different names.
But for me,
there was only,
but one name.
I always did,
and I always will,
call this man,
my Poppa.

As a child,
when I was asked,
why this and not,
Father, Daddy, or Dad.
I would simply say,
because he's special.
Oh, so very special,
to me.
When I grew older,
and I was asked,
why is he so special.
I would simply say,
because he makes,
ME feel so special.
Oh, so very special,
to him.

Than one day,
as I entered my home,
I saw my worse fear,
in my Mommies tears.
As she said to me,
your Poppa is,
no longer near.
Oh, Mommie please,
can you tell me,
why did my Poppa leave.
Thru weeping eyes,
she said to me,
death is only one of,
GOD'S many mysteries.
Oh, Mommie I don't want to be mystified,
I just want to know why,
oh, why did my Poppa die.

He always told me,
“Neither the havens from above,
nor the fires from down below,
could never, ever part our SOULS.”
Oh, Mommie, Mommie please,
I don't want to be mystified,
I just want to know, why,
oh, why, did my Poppa have to die.

I knew him well,
this man I call,
Poppa.
The love of us,
and for the things,
that we did.
He believed in hugs, kisses,
and tender fare wells.
Just in leaving for work,
or saying good night,
right before bed.
This he believed,
as we all do.
And he practiced it,
religiously as we all should.
A day never went by,
that I didn't hear,
" I love you, "
coming into my tender ears.

I will always remember,
how he loved to hear me play.
Music from my flute,
would make his whole day.
“Music unites our spirits,
even if we are separated,
miles and miles apart,” he would say.
If ever I was lonesome,
or feeling blue.
If ever I needed comfort,
or to be reassured,
“I need only to air my flute.”

Dedicated to My Girls.

By Peter Collins/Poppa

MY OLDEST SIBLING

“SIMONE”

The oldest of our siblings. And I don’t mean that in a mean or ugly way. It just means that you have had attention and love longer from this family than the rest of us. And deservingly so.
Fragile and worm hearted. Strong and enduring. Never has anything bad to say about any one. Has always seemed to be willing to sit in the background quietly with little or no attention. Always willing to help and comfort one when needed.
Simone, let me share with you some of the things I remember about my big sister that I will never forget.
My first memory was how skinny you were when we were younger. You, Larry, Ronnie and myself rough housing in the front yard along with Flossie. Remember our pet ?? Hearing Mom screaming at the top of her lungs at us to “ya’ll better stop that before one of you gets hurt. Don’t come running to me if one of you starts to cry.” Now who else would we go running to if not her if we were hurt or crying ?? We used to play pretty rough with each other and many times ended up in fights. I can remember when we would end up fighting and I don’t mean arguing I mean FIGHTING. Flossie would get between us and stop us from hurting each other. True story in my eyes. That was one H _ _ L of a dog.
I also remember parties at the house when You and Larry would have your friends over for a dance party. Ya’ll were so close in age that almost all of your friends were the same. Kenneth, Anaise, Jennette, Fred, Yancy and many others. Ronnie and I would be allowed to watch for a short period of time then we would have to leave the room because we were “Too Young.” But before we were dismissed Dad would put on an Elvis Presley song one of you would give me a broom to pretend it was my microphone and I would imitate Elvis by singing and dancing like him with my microphone in hand. You remember that ?? I don’t know if every one enjoyed it or if they all thought I was just a fool. But it was fun and gave Ronnie and I just a little more time up before being sent to bed.
Music and dancing was always a big part of our lives. Daddy used to have so much fun putting on those Record Hops every Sunday afternoon at the American Legion Hall. I can still see him standing on stage swaying to the music and watching every one dance. Especially his children. Man those were such good times. Don’t you think so Simone ?
Our summer vacations were so simple. Cabins on Grand Isle for a week. Such simpler times yet so enjoyable. How many times the three of you would bury me in the sand because it was getting late and I was getting cold. If Mom and Dad knew I was cold we would have to go back to the cabin till the next day. So I was buried to try to keep me warm and most of all to keep my mouth shut so we could stay on the beach longer. And crabbing on the beach. Great crabs that became our supper for that night. WOW!!!!
When you quite high school and moved to New Orleans to attend Beauty School. I remember going to N.O. with Mom and Dad to visit you at your school. I don’t recall the name but I know it was on Canal St. and very close to the river. You introduced us to every one and I heard some comments from some on how you were right that I was a handsome boy. I was so proud that you talked about me in that way however I do think some of them were men who were gay. (LOL) But what I do remember the most is every one at school called you Sim. I asked you if you liked that name and you looked at me and said “no I hate that name.” I made a mental note not to ever call you that and I never said that name again. I also remember you coming home for a week end from time to time and you always had a different color of hair. And I don’t mean your normal blond, brunette, or red head I’m talking orange, purple and green.
Than Joe came into your life and our time together was a lot less. I couldn’t understand it at the time but of course now I know you were in LOVE. Ya’ll were married and at one point moved to Boute. You were working at a beauty salon on the West Bank. One day I went to visit you at work and you asked me to do you a favor. It was Joe’s birthday and you did not have time to get his gift so you asked me to pick it up for you. Do you remember what you asked me to buy for him?? A railroad watch. He really loved that watch. I believe that is when Joe truly became my friend instead of some one trying to take my big sister away from me. All the times I would go to ya’ll house, sorry trailer, in Boutte and drinking many, many little Miller Ponies.
Eventually Donaldsonville became ya’lls resident where ya’ll would raise your family. Those were good times too. We would go there for Hurricanes. Nancy would cook great food. We met the rest of Joe’s family. Than Guy was born and later, much later, Minta came along. And you spent your time raising your family. And I must add did one H_ _ L of a great job. It is such a pleasure to see and talk to Guy and Minta. They are both so nice, respectable and well adjusted adults. I love both of them very much even if I don’t see them as often as I would like.
Than Joe unfortunately pass on. I’m not going to dwell on this for I know it’s a sore spot for us all. But I do remember that day in the hospital when he died. I loss a very, very good close friend that day. But what hurt me the most was seeing and felling your pain. And just like yourself, I’ll love him forever.
I will always remember how strong you have been with all your medical problems. You never loss your great sense of humor. Nothing seems to ever bother you when it comes to yourself but any one else and you have always been there. You are amazing.
One more thing I remember which is very important to me. Momma always used to say that you cried from the time you were born until you started school then you never cried again. Upon my return from Vietnam when Mom, Dad, Rosie and myself got out the car from the airport everyone was waiting for me inside the house. But I remember you did not stay inside the house. You came out the door and met me on the porch, hugged me and began to cry. I can’t remember what we said to each other. But I DO remember you crying in my arms and heard the words clearly in my ears what Mom used to say about you not ever crying. That memory, that one moment has been and always will be burned in my heart and soul for all eternity.
Simone I will always cherish these things about you, your fragile soul, your gentleness, your kindness, your love and most of all your friendship. Fore you my oldest sibling, are not only my sister but you have always been and remain still today a very, very dear and close Friend.
I will love you always.
Your Little Brod. And Pal
Peter

P.S. To all my other great sisters, I would greatly appreciate it if at least one of you would make sure our “Oldest Sibling” sees this.
Thanks,
Peter

THE HOUSE OF THE RAISING SUN !!!!!

"The House of The Raising Sun" done by the Animals is surely one of the most popular songs ever written about New Orleans. Its been around for years. I know all of you have heard it. Not too long ago I heard a song that sounds just like it but the words were changed. I only heard the first verse. So I began to add other words to it. I don't want to take credit for it being completely my idea, but I wanted to contribute to it. Remember these words/verses go to the same music as "The House of The Raising Sun."

There is a team in New Orleans,
That seldom win a game,
And I don't want to embarrass them,
So I wont tell you their name.

The owner sells a lot of cars you know,
Thru out the teams land,
But the only time he is satisfied,
Is when he dances under his umbrella.

The fans they wear paper bags on their heads,
and shout things thru out the croud,
Like "Who dat, Who dat, you say,"
Gonna beat my team today.

Now fans tell your children,
Not to follow this team no more,
They look very good on the field you know,
But they'll never make the Super Bowl.

One foots on my tailgate,
The other is on Poydras,
I'm going in the dome today,
To see who dat,who dat, gonna beat my team today.

Ahhhhh, There is a team in New Orleans,
That seldom win a game,
And I don't want to embaress them,
So I wont tell you their name.

Contribute if you like. And don't get me wrong, I will die a S_ _ _ _ S fan. And I have never worn a paper bag on my face, but I usually have been drinking when I watch a game on TV.

Hope you like it.
Peter Dgreat.

HERES ONE FOR YA'LL

O.K. Lil sis, in one of your blogs you asked me to "show you what I got."Well try this on for size.(Oh this is for the rest of you too, I don't want to leave any one out.) But for my lil sister Lilly this is a NA,NA,NA,NA,NA. (LOL), (I SAID LOL)

This is a little poem I wrote some time back. Some of it is fiction and some true. I'm sure ya'll will be able to pick out the truth from the fiction.
Peter

The Rain Keeps Falling

Is it rain on my cheeks I feel or is it tears in my eyes ?
When I meet you now in the street I never know,
If it’s a cloud in the sky or my heart that has burst open.
I see you from across the street, hand in hand looking so sweet.
And I think how lucky he is, like I was when it was me.
When you walked away, my soul died.
But I remember the hot humid days when we waited for a gentle
Summer rain and go strolling down the walk.
And the rain keeps running down my cheeks.
So now I walk in the rain alone to hide the tears in my eyes.
When you walked away, familiar faces became only strangers.
And strangers in the night became my lone companionship.
But I remember the warm summer nights with a slight cool breeze blowing through the open window, and us sharing our souls.
A world without you is like that window being shut on my life leaving my essence hot, stuffy and without a spirit to share with any one else, ever.
I tried to forget, I tried to move on, I tried to find someone else, but my heart just keeps reminding me that you are the only one.
So I suffer in the darkness of night praying for The Dawn to rescue me from my sorrowfulness.
But I remember an era of our lives when we loved and made love and lay in each others arms silently, but yet, each of us hearing the loving pounding of our hearts.
I don’t know if God will allow me to enter Heaven, but if he should there is one thing I know for sure, you will be there, or will be coming, hopefully soon after.
I’ll love you forever, even in the Heavens after death.
Peter Collins

TIME,PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE

Hi Avery body,

Ever since I saw the movie "The Time Machine" I have been fascinated with the concept of time travel. I was a very young boy when I saw this great movie. So as soon as the librarian at the Golden Meadow Library thought I was old enough to read and understand Jules Vernes book "The Time Machine" I ansiously checked out the book. I couldn't put the book down. I was more fascinated with the book than the movie.



Then the movie "Planet of The Apes" came out. I was still pretty young. I was in N.O. with Daddy putting in an order of records for the studio and record shop. While we waited for the order to be filled, Daddy toke me to the old Sanger Theater on Canal St. to see "Planet of The Apes." We both really enjoyed that movie. We had a good time. I thought I was so special for Dad to ask me to go with him to the big N.O. and then take me to such a great movie. (P.S. We also had breakfast on the way in none other then the city of Boute. I was big shoot that day.)


I have seen several time travel movies since then and I pretty much love or at least like them all.


I truly believe Man at some time in history will develop a means of Time Travel. I just fell that this is going to happen. It would be the ultimate means of transportation. I believe this going to be the topic of the next story I'm going to attempt to write.

But here is a thought I need to work on. If man will and does develop a means of time travel,which I think he will, then where are all the people from the future ??? I want to try and explain this in my story so I thought ya'll would contribute your ideas and thoughts on the subject.

Later,
Peter