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Showing posts from November, 2007

December 9

“Acts of creation are ordinarily reserved for gods and poets. To plant a pine, one need only own a shovel.” Aldo Leopold Larry Wilde, The Merry Book of ChristmasNever worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 30 feet tall. Charles N. BarnardThe perfect Christmas tree? All Christmas trees are perfect! Clearly I was a little premature in thinking I could do everything on my Christmas list AND write about it. I'm beginning to think there might be some kind of scientific phenomenon that occurs at this time of year. While the amount of things that need to get done is tripled, the time to do it all halved. I've learned that if I had really wanted to post 25 Christmas blogs, then I should have started in July. Which is also when I should have started baking and buying gifts. Enough of making excuses. I'm all about going easy on myself. Why add self-recrimination to the list of holiday stressors. Today we bought our Christmas tree. I use

34 Things We Love about John

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November 30, 1973 Jacksonville, Florida It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. On a chilly November night, a week after my original due date had come and gone, I decided the pain I was having on a fairly regular basis was not gas, but the real thing. I was in labor. This should have been a good thing, however, I was home alone. There was no one to drive me to the hospital or to watch Big Sister Wendy. The expectant father was at the airport picking up the expectant baby sitter. When Dad got home, we headed for the hospital, in the MG. No easy task getting in, considering my size. As we neared the railroad crossing that is known for its lengthy trains, we were in luck. No bells or bars to dodge. And don't think for a minute that James wouldn't have tried to beat the train! He was, after all, a Naval Aviator! I checked into the labor room, Dad was asked to wait outside. That was back in the days before everyone in the family was allowed in the pleasantly decorated

Light Bulb Moment

I recently had what I thought was a really cool idea for a give-everybody-on-my-Christmas-list-the-same-present present. It was an especially good idea because I was going to get it done and in the mail before the first of December which meant I was going to have the whole month of December to do fun Christmasy things. The idea was sort of a Little House on the Prairie kind of gift. Homemade and from the heart. I was going to write something! How original! But then I got side tracked by this blasted NaBloPoMo (do I ever spell it the same way twice?). On top of that, my idea was turning into a very expensive proposition which kind of defeated the whole thing. So here's what I've decided to do. In an effort to keep my writing skills honed, I'm going to use my blog as a launching pad for my own personal Advent calendar. From December 1 - 25, I'm going to pick a word, a holiday word we're all familiar with, and see if I can write something about it. The giving part of t

30 days hath September ...

April, June and November ... Unless you are a member of NaBloMoPo and then it will seem like November has 300 days. I've really never known this month to drag on so long. Under normal circumstances, the days passing slow as molassas would be in my favor. I'd have what seems like more time to shop, bake, and prepare for December ho, ho, ho thing. This afternoon I was sitting pretty. Almost resting on my smug, I-posted-30-days-in-a-row laurels. I thought I had only 2 more posts more to do. Indeed the finish line was in sight. Then I looked at the calendar. The last day of November does not arrive until Friday. Since I only had subject ideas for today and [what was I thought was the last day]tomorrow, I've now got to come up with one more thing more thing to write about. Just when one thinks one is really screwed, the muse jumps in to aid the writer, or if not the muse then at least what the writer could call serendipity. How can I possibly NOT draw attention to the comment I

A-N-T-I-C-I-P-A-T-I-O-N

Sequins Glitter Silk shirts with no buttons High heels Music Disco ball trophy Dancing with the Stars started an hour and a half ago. There's been some dancing but mostly glitz and gab. I'm not sure I can stand the wait. Mel vs Helio Sexy girl vs cute, cute boy Who's gonna win? Enough hype already. Let's get on with it. The thing about contests, the thing I really hate, is that in order for someone to win, someone has to lose. So Helio won - great choice. But Mel did some mighty fine dancing. They were both so good, I say they were both winners. Here's a dance quote I found that speaks to me - not so much about dancing but about life. I don't know who said it. "Your love for yourself is only shown when you are dancing freely." There is something to be said for dancing freely - disco ball trophy or not. Merry ME

A Tale of Two Kitties/My version

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I just read anitjen's post for today. It was about one of her cat's aerial abilities and another of cat's hunting prowess. I also have two cats. Cat's who aren't supposed to be in high places. Cats who don't know that there is life beyond the back door. So imagine my surprise when, as I was reading Jenni's post, the girl cat wanders in with a mouth full of feathers. She is acting like she just won a feline version of the lottery. She is tossing around feathers like they are actually attached to a body with wings. In reality she's found a bunch of feathers that I collected and banded together in a kind of feng shui feather bokay and stuck in a plant. Said plant was in the sink being watered. I suspect said cat got up on the counter where she doesn't belong and took the feathers right out of the plant. I'm thinking this is against the house rules, but like Jenni, I feel kind of proud that her natural instincts weren't completely bred out of her

Just wondering ...

Why is it that .... When people get on an elevator they look up at the floor marker rather than the people? I doubt if anyone in a crowded elevator could pick out a person in a police lineup even if they were standing right next to the guy (or gal as the case may be)? When I pick a line in the grocery store that looks like it's moving smoothly, it always comes to a complete standstill? My car still smells like sour milk after four months of airing out? Some old people enjoy being old and others don't? You wait for a while at a doctor's office doing nothing. But as soon as you pick up a magazine and start to read an interesting article your name is called? That Santa wears a red suit instead of something more readily visible like neon yellow? When I get a canned operator on the telephone I have one of two reactions. Either I talk to the person I know is not a real person who is prompting me to say, "yes" or "I didn't get that, please try again" with m

Observations from a Girl in the South

The days of 2007 are ticking away. It is the end of November and, as I've already mentioned, Christmas with all it's trimmings is almost upon us. It is hard for me to get into the swing of the season when the Southern temperatures haven't gone much below 75 degrees. A few weeks ago, the weatherman talked about an earlier than normal freeze. The temperatures may have dropped during the night, but the days have stayed warm. There is nothing like autumn to help one make the seasonal transition. A few sycamore trees in our neighborhood have dropped dried up leaves; none of which had much color. Some turned yellow, a few made it to an orangey red stage. Mostly they turned brown and landed on the ground. Remember the theme from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head?" Because my neighborhood is full of oak trees, and it is true that from little acorns might oaks will grow, we've had weeks of "acorns falling on my head, and on my

Cookies

“C is for cookie, its good enough for me. Oh cookie, cookie, cookie starts with c.” Cookie Monster If the Christmas season has actually started then it must be that time of year when I start thinking about making cookies. Like those people who buy gifts during the year then sashay their way through the season unscathed by shopping frenzy, I would do good to start my baking early. Spreading it out across 12 months and filling up the freezer with blue stars, green sprinkled Christmas trees, and fat brown gingerbread men would be simpler than the last minute craziness that I seem to put myself through year after year. You'd think I would have come up with a better way of doing things by now. There was a time in my life when baking was actually theraputic for me. Too depressed to even think about being merry, for some reason I discovered a certain degree of peace when in the kitchen up to my elbows in flour and sugar. Baking became a holiday tradition sort of by accident. My kids are n

Black Friday

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I seriously considered joining the shopping maniacs standing in line for stores to open at 4am. Well, not seriously, but the thought did cross my mind. However, for the past couple of years I've thought it might be fun to drive to Fernandina early in the morning just to shop in my pjs. For some reason that sounds like fun to me. Not sure why. Here's something else I'm grateful for. There is really nothing I need, want or can afford that is worth climbing out of my warm, cozy bed to stand in line for. I'm more of a sleeper than shopper. However, in an effort to get my son's birthday present to him on time, I did venture out into the madding crowd. Like a compass needle set on due north, I pointed my car in the direction I wanted to go and didn't look right or left. I was on a mission ... surf shop, toy shop, office shop and home. I was luck in because my selection of stores was not the mob scene it could have been. If

Thanksgiving

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"If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, 'thank you,' that would suffice. " Meister Eckhart Thanksgiving the F-word holiday - food, football, family. In concept I think it is a grand idea. I've gotta wonder, however, if the holiday we experience in 2007 is anywhere near the same in spirit as what it started out to be. Obviously, the Pilgrims didn't have TV and football; they didn't have giant balloon characters to march down a New York avenue; hell, they didn't have avenues or even New York. Sadly they didn't have microwave ovens or brown-'n-bags or Pam cooking spray to give their roasted birds the golden Norman Rockwell look we strive for. I'm guessing that without malls the Pilgrims didn't feel the need to hurriedly gobble (no pun intended) up their festive foods so they could rest up for merchandizing blitzkreig to come. I wasn't there so I can't say for sure, but I bet the act of surviving another New England d

Project Runway

I have just discovered that a great way to chase away the blahs is to turn on Project Runway. I hate the canned statements that Tim Gunn ["make it happen"] or Heidi Klum ["with fashion one day you're in and one day you're out"] make show after show, but really how can you watch and not get caught up in the lives and intrigue and designs of these rather strange people. Creative, yes. Talented, yes. Brave, yes. All that but still a little strange. I thought I'd given up on reality TV. I broke my addiction to Survivor several season's back by going cold turkey. I just said no. If you don't watch the opening show, you don't get hooked. However, I have to admit that I cannot say no to Dancing with the Stars. I haven't voted yet, but I think my devotion to the show would probably be considered over the top by most. After reading antijen's recent blog about this season's Amazing Race, I totally rethought my decision not to watch. The if-

Good News/Not so good day

I was relieved to tune into Anti-Jen's Monday post to find she had not been abducted by aliens. Seems she spent the day at Sea World, which for a sea mammal rescuer could be either a fun experience or sad one. As it turns out in this case, Jenni was fine with the captive sea lions and whales. I guess if you've got to be kept in a big swimming pool, the ones at Sea World are of the 4 star variety. None of those nasty problems Jenni is always rescuing wild seals from. So, now that I know things are okay in S. California I have to decide what to write about. My choices are limited but I've narrowed it down to two. I could tell you about how I was attempting to put on some panty hose to wear to church on Sunday morning and got stuck lying on my back looking, I suspect, like a dead bug - legs stuck in the air, unable to move my body. I had to call for help. At some point I may be able to do this story justice, but right now I'm feeling kind of embarrassed. My second choice o
I have developed the habit of doing nothing other than a quick pee and brushing my teeth before turning on the computer to check on AntiJen's blog site for a post. With the three hour time differential, I don't usually get to read her daily messages until the following day. I knew she was headed to San Diego to visit with her sister and babysit a niecelet. I knew she was going to be time-challenged. I knew NaBloPoMo wasn't going to be her first priority. Still, I sucked in my breath when I got to her site this morning and there was no Sunday post. Jenni is my blog mentor. When my writer persona grows up, it wants to be just like her. Smart, quick witted, good vocabulary, "green" thinking and especially good when it comes to sentence structure. It was Jenni's suggestion that got me into this blasted every day posting business. She was my first "friend" on NaBloPoMo. And let's face it, even if greeblemonkey has tagged me as a friend, as in real lif

Dieting

"Vegetables are a must on a diet. I suggest carrot cake, zucchini bread, and pumpkin pie." Jim Davis Last night my sweetie and I went on a date. The first one in a long time. We started off by seeing the Bee Movie followed by dinner at Carraba's. Popcorn, soda, dumb movie, bread dipped in olive oil, pasta. Maybe that's why I felt so sluggish when I woke up this morning. I think I need to make some lifestyle changes. Less eating, more moving. But look at the calendar. In four days it will be Thanksgiving. Even though we've already feasted on all the traditional foods and desserts, the fourth Thursday of November is the official start of holiday overeating. It is not the time of year to start a diet. Unless, of course, it's a diet of sugar cookies and eggnog.

Another New Baby

Our family is growing by leaps and bounds. Just this year we've added a new bride, two fiances, and now a second baby. Wow! Yesterday, Gianna Ysabel Garcia came into the world. God has blessed her mom and dad, sisters, brother, Grandma, etc with another healthy and beautiful little girl. I can't wait to see a picture of her when her eyes are open and she's lost the I-just-got-born-give-a-girl-a-break-and-take-my-picture-later look. In honor of little Gianna here are a couple of special wishes added to my August 16th post - I wish for you: That your home is safe from fires, wind and earthquakes That you will honor and share your Latin heritage Welcome to the world little one. May God bless you and keep you. Merry ME

Over the hump

Sat. morning...the house is quiet except for finch songs and newspaper rustlings...I considered going back to bed but I think I should shower and do something about the pile of ironing that is stacked so high that you can't see the chair it's resting on...I know, I know, if I'd fold the laundry when it comes out of the dryer I wouldn't have the ironing problem...When I opened my blog this morning I was struck, pleasantly so, by the list of "recent posts" listed for November...Then I checked the date - the 17th - I'm past the half way point...woohoo!!!I liken this feeling to being cooled by a spray of water, or tossed an orange slice to suck on when running a marathon...I feel a little less draggy, less like tossing in the towel...I may be more vitalized but I'm running out of ideas...Can you tell?

POV

"If there is any one secret of success, it lies in the ability to get the other person's point of view and see things from that person's angle as well as from your own." Henry Ford I've spent a lot of time in the last couple of days thinking. Reliving things that happened, re-hearing things that were said during our mini-family reunion. Processing is what my sweetie calls it. For me it's probably more like a dog chewing on a bone. I've turned bone chewing into an art form. In an email I received yesterday, one of my sisters wrote: It is really fun to have all of us together, even though each of us has such different points of view. Maybe because I'm both physically and emotionally exhausted, not to mention also suffering from a severe case of Thanksgiving dinner hangover - still stuffed to the gills -but I reacted to that statement like it was a bad thing. We're sisters. We are fam-i-ly. How can we have different points of view? Why would we have d

Sounds of silence

For years, when asked what they'd like most for a gift, my mom and dad would answer, "peace and quiet." When your house is full of girls of all ages and emotions, it is easy to understand why this particular gift would be a blessing. I don't quite get why Dad still answers the "what do you want for ...." question with "peace and quiet." Seems like that is pretty much every day. Maybe not always peaceful as in serene, but at least his days are no longer ruled by the phases of the moon. And quiet is a relative thing! I couldn't help but notice just how quiet the house felt today with everyone gone. Lonely quiet. Perhaps it was the kind of quiet my dad enjoys. But for me it was the kind of quiet that makes me cry. The kind of quiet that is full of memories rather than female activity. The kinf of quiet I always want to sleep through. But life goes on. And like everything else, there is a time for noise and a time for quiet. In order to appreciate

Goodbyes Suck

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"Distance never separated two hearts that really care, for our memories span the miles and in seconds we are there. But whenever I start feeling sad cuz I miss you I remind myself how lucky I am to have someone so special to miss." One down. One more to go. The hardest one. The one I always hate. Saying goodbye to my sister Linda. Not sure how it got to be so, but out of five there have to be a few different groupings. Linda and I, for whatever reasons, are what you might call two peas in a pod. We've also been called the "cuckoo pigeon sisters" which may or may not be an accurate assessment. Before the sun comes up tomorrow, Linda will get on a plane and head back to the NW. Too many miles will separate us. Yeh, I know the separation is a just a land thing, that our hearts will stay united. Still, it's not like I can just get in the car and head for the hills and be at her house in time for dinner. This post is going to have to be a two parter. I'm havi

Girls Day Out

Slept in late. Got a hallpass. First time visit to Hobby Lobby (mind boggling) Ate lunch at the Loop (blue cheese burger - yum!) Wandered around Borders. (Omigod, haven't been there in ages) Tried on black Birkenstocks (really liked them, couldn't bring myself to spend the $$'s) Fell in yarn love at Stitch in Time. (Didn't buy, just drooled) Came home to regroup. Going to RedLobster for dinner. (Shrimp Scampi. Yum!) This is the kind of day sister visits are all about. Merry ME

P.S.

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It looks like my camera survived its swan dive into my ice tea. Woohoo! I'm still in the picture taking business! ME

Veteran's Day

"In war, there are no unwounded soldiers." José Narosky Today is Veteran's Day. Not the actual, November 11th day, set aside for remembering all the people who have given up life and limb, and maybe soul, for those of us who stay at home. As with a lot of holidays, Veteran's Day has been relegated to a Monday so working people can sleep in late, play golf or finish the weekend chores they weren't able to accomplish in the regular 48 hours set aside for catch up. I hope that the real purpose of the day does not get lost in all that activity. America was birthed in war. It's been said freedom isn't free; a good offense is a good defense, or something like that. No matter how you feel about the war in Iraq -or the President and his fighting machine -you've got to give a lot of credit to the people (men and women, young and old, of every color and religion) doing the dirty work. In my lifetime, there have been other conflicts. All in places too far from my

Oops!

I came to the computer to post something before the night got away from me. I didn't know the computer was still hooked up to my camera downloading pictures. Had I known this I might have been able to stop the roller coaster before it started. Before I realized what was happening, the cable connecting the computer to the camera knocked the camera into my cup of tea. The cup fell to the floor, spilling tea across the floor. The computer hit my "funny" bone which sent a shiver down my arm, causing two of my fingers to be momentarily numb. That's when I discovered the cable still attached to the computer so I unhooked it. I yelled something unkind at my sweetie. Seems like even if he couldn't have helped he could have offered moral support - "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry you've hurt yourself. Here let me help you clean it up. You just sit there and get the blood moving in your fingers again. No really. I mean it, let me fix things for you. No, no - I'm

Thanksgiving

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"Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful." Buddah* Today at our house it's going to be Thanksgiving. I know it's Sat. not Thursday and it's the beginning of the month, not the end, but it is the day when our family has gathered from coast to coast so we're going to be grateful (dammit!) and eat our way through the many blessings we can count, and some then some. [At last count there were three pies on the counter, two pumpkin rolls in the fridge and brownies on the way. That's six things on the gratitude list already and we haven't even gotten to the turkey who gave his life for us.] Five girls together in the house last night felt, as expected, both weird and good. For one thing, even though we're sisters there is always a getting to know one a
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"The torch of love is lit in the kitchen. " Author unknown Does life get any better than this? My favorite sister is here to visit with. The smell of cinnamon, ginger and cloves wafts from the pies baking in the oven. John Denver is on the radio singing of wild Montana skies. Flour and sugar, mixing bowls and measuring bowls are scattered across the new kitchen counters, a veritable baptism by flour. God bless the kitchen. God help me to remember the moment when it's cold and I'm lonely. Life is good! Merry ME

Together Again

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"Sisters share the scent and smells - the feel of a common childhood. " Pam Brown The planets have all aligned. Dad opened his checkbook. Tomorrow, for the first time in five years all five Reynolds sisters will be together. It will be a short visit. We'll do a lot of eating, take a lot of pictures, eat some more and tell a lot of the same stories that have been told for years. I think it will be the first time since my mom died that we've all been together. That in itself will make it feel kind of weird. But as you can tell from some of my previous posts, my mother's ghost sits squarely in the center of the action. Since I've been voted the "Kitchen Maven" I'll be wearing two hats. Part of me will be Middle Mary, daughter #3. Another part will be my mom personsa, trying really hard to do/make everything just like she would have done it. I'll be the daughter who wants to fuss at Dad for some of his curmudgeony ways, and I'll be the lady o

More Mom Memories

"Pleasure is the flower that passes; remembrance, the lasting perfume." Jean de Boufflers I opened my eyes this morning to the sight of my sweetie standing in front of the mirror tying his tie. I'm not telling any tales if I let on that he is a tiny bit "anal". You know pens and pencils lind up in a row; underwear drawer stacked neatly, briefs never touching T's; grocery coupons cross referenced by use and alphabetical order. This man is all about neatness. (Just like me!) Need I say when it comes to tying his tie it is a task he does not take lightly? Is it just me, or does anyone else out there like to watch a man shave or tie a tie? I'm guessing Dr. Freud would have a field day about the psychological meaning of such. Just so you don't think I'm really weird, I can assure you I don't get any kind of sexy feelings when I watch these procedures. Neither do they make me think of my father in some Greek-like Oedipal way. I just think there is

Words

Yikes! I just looked at the clock and I only have 64 minutes to get this written and posted to maintain the NaBloPoMo goal. Yikes! Why did I put it off all day? Probably because I just didn't know what to write about. I spent the day cleaning and ironing. I even straightened a shelf in the bathroom closet. My sisters are coming for a visit and while I don't think they'll even look in the bathroom closet, I thought it was a good opportunity to put all the first aid bandages and creams in one spot. I got the back of the house done today; will shoot for the front tomorrow. By the time sister #1 gets in, we'll both be too tired to care if things are clean or not. But it might not get done again for awhile. And if anyone cuts themselves or gets some other kind of booboo, well I'll know right where the first aid paraphenalia is. How's that for organized. Can you tell I'm stalling? I'm down to 57 minutes. Damn! Okay, here it goes. I heard a man on the radio tod
The monotony and solitude of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind." Albert Einstein The house is very quiet today. It's an odd sort of quiet. It's peaceful yet surprisingly uncomfortable. Oddly the motion of household sounds has stopped. A bird song flutters by from one end of the house; country music classics from the other. Neither are too loud; both just barely audible. I can almost touch the quiescence. My sweetie started a new job today. He left the house in a handsome blue suit, carrying a brief case and an air of confidence. When the door closed behind him, it felt a little reminiscent of the first day of a new school year. My kids would kiss me goodbye (hmmm, maybe it was more tolerated me kissing them) then walked to the bus stop on their own, leaving me in the doorway wondering what to do with myself. Here's the disconcerting thing. My kids are long grown. And when Jack was working from his home office, it's not like he made a lot of noise. So why is

Quilts

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I think this post will be twitteringly short. I've had a sinus/eye/tooth ache all day which only stopped bothering me when I slept - which happened to be all afternoon. My sweetie and I have been experimenting with different bedding styles. We've gone the traditional bottom sheet/top sheet/bedspread route for most of our time together. Recently, however, it came to my attention that I am a cover grabber. I don't really believe this. But since once I close my eyes I am asleep, I can't very easily come to my own defense. I have to take the word of the person next to me with blue lips who is rolling me off his share of the blanket. Looking for a good solution, Jack suggested we use a king sized top sheet. I had to wonder why we hadn't thought of this sooner. Except that the sheet drags the floor this solution has worked quite well. Then I got a wild hair. I washed the linens from the top of the bed to the bottom. Even the mattrass pad. What's that all about? Fall

Twittering?

"It seems to me that the problem with diaries, and the reason that most of them are so boring, is that every day we vacillate between examining our hangnails and speculating on cosmic order." Ann Beattie, Picturing Will, 1989 While perusing through a NaBloPoMo "friend's" blog I came across an interesting question. Perhaps it was only interesting to me because, when it comes to text-messaging lingo, I'm a little out of my league. No, a LOT out of my league. Aimee Greeblemonkey (don't you just love that name) asked simply: Anyone twitter? Twitter? What the hell is that? After looking on her site for some examples of twittering and getting her email definition of "short blurbs about your day, under 140 characters" I had to stop and think about how many characters I use in a blurb, a post, a day. The number has got to be startlingly high. I also decided after spending most of yesterday on my Princess post, either I am going to have to shorten my en

Princess Primer

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prin·cess (prĭn'sĭs, -sěs', prĭn-sěs'). A woman regarded as having the status or qualities of a princess.* This is not just another photo of some costume-clad goombas getting ready to trick or treat. It is actually, in my opinion, a picture of a Las Vegas showgirl witch, Underdog, and one strong, independent-minded princess. She may look like just another Snow White wanna be, but Miss Kisa B. has made a not-so-dwarflike statement by donning the satin dress and tiara. I can almost hear her shouting, "I am Princess, hear me roar!" or something to that affect. "Huh?" you ask. Let me back up a little and give you some background before giving you the Merry ME version of Paul Harvey's "Rest of the Story." There is, in Seattle, a small imaginative band of trick or treaters who for the past three years have united in a joint costume effort. The group consists of both adults and children. When the children were younger, with easily pliable minds, i