The Boobs Have It

My best friend Starr Ann (hi, Starr Ann) doesn't take no-class stupidity lightly. Well, she doesn't exactly take it hard, either. Here's an example of what I'm talking about.

She was surfing around the Internet (under cloak of my passwords, of course) and all of a sudden we hear her, all the way out in the kitchen, laughing that one way you really don't want to hear Starr Ann laugh. Jodie looked at me. I looked at Lane. Lane shrugged her shoulders.

I said to Jodie, "Lane hasn't seen Starr Ann in this particular shade of sardonic before."

Now, we're working real hard, all the while trying to make it look like we aren't working at all, on getting Lane to get even halfway innerested in something, anything. So, naturally, she didn't take the bait.

Jodie pursed her lips (I love when she does that) and said, "Well, Miss Lane, get ready, because in oh, I'd say about 20 seconds," Jodie took a fake look at her watch, "Starr Ann should be coming through that door with a great big load of some kind of bullshit."

Lane nodded real neutral.

In about 20 seconds, Starr Ann came walking through the door, carrying a copy of that picture up there. She showed it to Lane first. "These people have the honor of being connected with one of the best-going horses to come along in our lifetime, and look how they've decided to try and cheapen him."

Lane took a dismissive glance and handed the photo to Jodie, who didn't hold back one bit. "Fuck a frickin' duck upside down and sideways!"

If you think I didn't rush across the room to see for myself, you're wrong.

Starr Ann's eyes darted over at Lane. Still nothing.

So Starr Ann got this real casual swing to her voice and it all of a sudden sounded a whole lot more Southern than usual. "Tell you what, Margo, I think you and me oughta buy us a racehorse. Name her Boob Job. See if Hooters wants to pay us the big bucks for lettin' 'em sponsor her."

"You're right! I can just hear the race call now. '...and as they near the wire, it's Boob Job by a nose, no wait, that's not a nose...'"

Jodie said, "Then after she wins, '...now entering the winner's circle is Boob Job, a 3-year old gray filly out of Silicone...'"

Starr Ann's turn. "...by the two time Grade II winning sire Owl Eyes..."

Ouch! We all groaned at that. Well, Jodie and I groaned.

But the really bad lines crack Starr Ann up more than the good ones do and she was ready to roll. "Reminds me of those Hoof Hearted videos on youtube."

I said, "Huh?"

Jodie said, "Huh?"

"You never saw those? You gotta pronounce 'Hoof' like 'roof' and say 'Hoof Hearted' real fast."

Jodie said it out loud that way and just about peed in her pants. "...and it's Hoof Hearted by a nose..."

Then the miracle occurred. Lane asked, "And I suppose you're going to tell me Hoof Hearted has a come-from-behind running style?"

I doubt any of us has ever in our lives been so happy to hear such a silly, juvenile joke.

Tomorrow, we put Lane on yet another airplane. This one will be taking her back to Walter Reed Army Hospital (you know, the one at the heart of the not-so-distant neglect scandals) where they will subject her to their Warriors In Transition program.



Starr Ann, Jodie, and I have every reason to hope that Lane's wonderful, resilient, youthful, hopeful, healthy mind will whisper something like '...Hoof Hearted coming on from the rear...' or '...gray filly by Silicone...' right when she most needs a chuckle.

And just for the record? They haven't invented a level of base corporate sponsorship low enough to take one bit of class away from the likes of this exquisite creature.

Dona Nobis Pacem

There was only time to act. Starr Ann saw to that.

After a fifteen-hour sleep, Starr Ann took a sip of the coffee I had waiting for her this morning and said, "The Posse should start arriving any time. Do we have the boots?"

I nodded yes about the boots, and Starr Ann caught me up on what she had planned. Hard to believe one little cowgirl got so much arranged in such a short time. Goddess, that's my Starr Ann.

Lori and Jodie got here before that first cup of coffee was halfway gone. Jodie was stunning in a beige brushed cotton shirt with a turquoise bandanna around her neck. Lori cut a heroic figure in midnight blue tailored slacks and a white silk shirt, flared just right at the neck. One glimpse of them, and I realized I needed to get to my room and change.

By the time I got back, they were all there. Quieter than I've ever seen them.

Frannie, smiling but subdued, was on the couch with CJ and Joyce, telling them about the conversation she'd had with Jamila that night of the big campfire and snowball toss. Seems Jamila liked to sketch, and she'd promised to send Frannie some impressions from Iraq. In a month or two, after she and Lane got their bearings.

Over by the window, looking outward, Nina and Gina had their arms around each other, slightly swaying, not saying a word.

Lost in thought, JoeyJo and Heather did what they could to pacify Bates and keep him out of trouble. When Bates growled and nipped at Heather, JoeyJo snapped out of her reverie and said, "Never saw the little monster take to anybody the way he took to Jamila. Did you see her put her face right up to his that night?"

Mimi wiped her cheek and pretended to have something to do in the kitchen. She didn't.

Over by the front door, Eryll was speaking softly to Folkrockgirl, who looked like her young heart was about to break.

The only one sitting alone was Cap'n Dyke, and her stony expression left no doubt she wanted it to stay that way.

I'd had just enough time to scan all these precious faces when Starr Ann came in the front door. She took a deep breath. "Okay. Everybody knows their part. I brought Lightning around. Jodie, great job with the wagon. Lori, what about Lane?"

Lori said, "Starr Ann, honey, I don't think she's going to come with us."

Starr Ann didn't say a word, just walked upstairs. Fifteen minutes later, we were all rushing over to help her maneuver Lane into the wheelchair.

Lane was saying, "Starr Ann, please! It's not gonna help anything."

Starr Ann looked around at everybody, then back to Lane. "Did you ever think it might help us?" And before Lane could get any angrier, or say no again, Starr Ann wheeled her onto the front porch.

At the foot of the steps was the old fashioned buggy Jodie borrowed from the saloon girls in town. They must have worked real hard to get it that shiny. And the dark upholstered seat was all fixed up with a soft extension for Lane's leg to rest on. Alongside, all the pretty Posse horses stood calm and steady, not moving much more than to swish a tail.

Out in the grass, slick and handsome as could be, Lightning stood under English tack, with Jamila's boots reversed in the irons.

Lane didn't move a muscle for a long time. Then she sighed, pulled her gaze from Lightning, and inclined her head toward the buggy. "Will you lift me into it, please?"

Starr Ann led Lightning on foot, with Lori driving Lane just behind and the Posse trailing, all the way to the river. We stopped there on the bank for a few minutes of peaceful silence. When a hawk flew over, circled, came back and soared off again, we watched her until she was a speck on the sky, then just the memory of the speck.

Starr Ann took Jamila's boots from the stirrups and placed them in Lane's arms with such care, then she removed Lightning's tack and set him free. He picked a few bites of sweet river grass and sauntered over to sniff at a shiny wet rock. Then, a blue streak of horse electricity shot through him and he kicked his heels real high before striking off toward home. By unspoken consent, we all let our horses run right with him. I barely had time to swoop Starr Ann up with me, so we trailed back with Lori and Lane, but by the time we turned for that last run at the barn, we were one big herd, pure nerve, muscle and sweat.

I don't have to hope Jamila was with us. None of us does. There's a peace in our hearts that tells us she was.

Marching home

Yesterday evening, Jodie and I were just about to have a light supper when the kitchen door flew open ahead of Lane in a wheelchair and Starr Ann pushing. I don't know if you ever hugged someone in a wheelchair before, but I guess you have to get the hang of it. Well, the chair was only partly what made it awkward. The other part was that Lane isn't exactly accepting affection or anything right now. Fact is, she's barely answering direct questions. Which we totally understand. It just would have felt nice to hug her good, that's all.

Anyway, we barely got a few bites of macaroni and cheese down them before they conked out, and they're still sleeping.

Jodie and Starr Ann of course slept up in Starr Ann's bed, and I offered to let Lane have my room because of not having to navigate the stairs, which was really my way of helping her not have to face the room she'd shared with Jamila, but she just got a little out of humor and said if we didn't want to help her up the steps she'd crawl up.

This morning, when Jodie came down, I asked her if she'd had a chance to get any details from Starr Ann about how she managed to bring Lane home. Jodie said no, Starr Ann was way too sleepy. But she did ask one question. She was pretty concerned about whether I'd arranged to borrow Jamila's riding boots. When Jodie told her the boots should be delivered today, Starr Ann smiled real sweet.

Jodie also said she had to go in to Lane three different times because of bad dreams.

This Just In

Well, the whole not existing on paper thing is kinda getting in Starr Ann’s way. Her fake papers got her on the plane (Starr Ann claims Osama bin Laden’s probably flying commercial, it’s so easy), but she needs a little bit more in the way of credentials to get inside Walter Reed. Celia Susan claims to have the proper materials, and she’s heading up there.

Bottom line, Starr Ann hasn’t made it to Lane yet. Lane knows she’s there, though, and she’s not real happy about it. Seems like Lane basically wants to put a pillow over her head and pretend the world doesn’t exist anymore. And who knows, maybe that’s a pretty good short term response. Only thing is, Starr Ann is determined to be right there when the pillow comes off.

Anyway, yesterday when Starr Ann realized that Celia Susan wouldn’t get there until at least late tonight, she took up the offer of a Posse rider who lives about an hour and a half away. Yep. Starr Ann had supper and spent the night with Heather and April, of Wishful Writer fame. You know how even when something momentous is going on, your brain still tries to make all the normal observations and things, just to keep you grounded? Well, when Starr Ann called to check in last night, she told me about three times how nice that bathroom of Heather and April’s turned out. So, I’m real thankful for the hospitality of those cowgirls.

And Jodie says Starr Ann has something cooking. She’s given Jodie the job of getting in touch with Jamila’s folks about the possibility of letting us borrow Jamila’s riding boots for a few days. More on that as it develops.

Lately, I feel like I ought to be calling this the Starr Ann Dispatches.

Separation by degrees

Lane was freezing inside a C-5 Galaxy high above the Atlantic Ocean as Jamila’s casket was being lowered into the earth somewhere in Dallas yesterday afternoon.

Just a few weeks ago, they were both hot and whole and secure in believing that nothing could ever come between them.

We heard from Lane again late last night. This time it was by phone. Her voice was as flat as it had seemed in that first email about the attack. Is it possible for a person to be in shock for this many days?

Jodie and I took turns talking to her first, and all we got were a bunch of single-syllable responses.

When Starr Ann took the phone, I could tell things were going pretty much the same for her. Then I heard Starr Ann say, “What if I fly up there to be with you?” Her expression dipped a little bit, and she said, “But I want to, Lane.” Lane must have actually gotten a whole sentence or two out then, because Starr Ann just listened for several seconds. When Lane was done, Starr Ann cradled the phone in the crook of her neck to free up her arms. She folded them across her chest and said, “Okay. I won’t.”

That was about it. Starr Ann disconnected the phone and handed it to Jodie, saying, “I’m going to take a shower. Margo, would you book me a flight on something, I don’t care what, to Walter Reed? The sooner the better.”

Jodie asked, “Should I pack a few things for you?”

Starr Ann just called over her shoulder, “No, I have my emergency pack, and this is definitely an emergency.”

Starr Ann’s probably landing in Washington, D.C., right about as I’m writing this.

Falling between the cracks

Our house feels like some kind of command center. There was another brief email from Lane, written just a few hours after the one I posted on Monday.

The doctors moved up the surgery on her leg. It's already done. And since they had her moving around on crutches by Monday night, with plans to ship her back to the states yesterday, Lane emailed us that she'd requested permission to be flown directly to Dallas, where they're holding Jamila's funeral this afternoon. That request wasn't denied. Apparently, it wasn't even addressed. She thinks they're initially taking her to Walter Reed.

Since Monday night, Jodie, Starr Ann and I have taken turns talking to what seems like about a thousand Army people, trying our best to get somebody to listen. We just knew there had to be one person in there who cared that a seriously wounded eighteen-year-old woman was desperate to say her final goodbyes to another eighteen-year-old who'd put her life on the line, and lost it, in Iraq.

Finally, late yesterday, the phone rang. A woman calling from the hospital where Lane was being treated. She wasn't willing to say who she was, but she did give us the number of a lieutenant colonel in Fort Story, Virginia. She said to call this woman about Lane and Jamila. Said to not ask how we'd gotten her name, because the officer would not tell.

Of course we called. Starr Ann did the talking. And this woman was real roundabout, but Starr Ann thinks she's going to try to help us out. Only thing is, we have to quit drawing so much attention to the case and stop calling other people about it. She said we just have to wait for word about what they're going to do with Lane.

So we're waiting. And hoping with all our might that Lane's on a plane headed for Dallas right now. They're burying Jamila at two this afternoon.

A Blast

As I may have mentioned before, my best friend Starr Ann (hi, Starr Ann) is the world's best at getting a party together STAT. So, there we were, expecting Lane and Jamila to arrive in mid-afternoon, and Starr Ann had the party ready to launch by late morning. Still wouldn't tell me what her big surprise was, though.

Afternoon came and went without one sign of the kids. Which was a little bit comforting. It felt good to know Basic Training and tech school hadn't made Lane grow up too much. At the same time, though, Starr Ann and I'd really been looking forward to having the girls all to ourselves, if only for an hour or so. Dang, where does time go?

By seven, most of the Posse had arrived. Still no Lane and Jamila, but things were cranking into high gear by their own selves.

Lori had somehow rigged up a lighted footpath between her Riding Cowgirls Ranch and our Happy Hands. It was quite beautiful, and I still don't really understand how she did it, but that's Lori for you. Lori also brought a lot of marshmallows, on the off chance Reeflightning didn't make it on time, since she had to travel so far. But right as Lori started to get the campfire going, Reef arrived. So, all good. The marshmallow specialist was in charge of the marshmallows. Anyway, Lori was supposed to be on hot tub patrol.

Everybody was having a real good time when, about eight or so, here comes Lane and Jamila walking through the door. Dang! Talk about two beautiful kids full of life and so in love you could see it a mile away! It was like a pheromone cloud rolled in with them. I mean it, the place started rocking.

Our puppy Bates came running from who-knows-where and made the leap of his life into Lane's arms. That boy just about wiggled in two, his tail was wagging so hard. And in a surprise move, he took to Jamila right away. Still in Lane's arms, he twisted his neck and leaned over toward Jamila's face. Of course, we all know Bates, so there was a collective gasp, and we all held our breaths. But he didn't even try to bite her. Just licked her face.

Starr Ann said, real matter of fact, "Prolly smells more like Lane than Lane does," which broke the tension enough that everybody laughed. Lane had the decency to blush. Black women, though, have an unfair advantage. Jamila might have blushed, then again she might not have.

After their entrance, everything just took off. What I remember is real patchy. At one point, I was in the pasture in bare feet, dancing with Frannie, Tigger, CJ, and the -inas. Funny thing about the -inas. Gina surely remembers being at the party, but I got a message from Nina this morning saying she was sorry to miss the hoedown. Just goes to show you Nina's so in love with Gina she truly doesn't know where she is half the time.

There was another point when I spotted Starr Ann, Cap'n Dyke, and Frannie huddled up real close, like they were talking real serious. Then they all three at once threw their heads back and laughed real hard. Don't know why, but the sight of that just made me so happy I almost couldn't stand it.

On my way out to check on the horses, I spotted yet another lovely Posse member, JoeyJoe, emerging from that lighted footpath with Lori. That made about the fourth cowgirl I'd seen Lori on that path with. What the heck?

I said, "You chargin' for this shuttle, Hahn?"

Lori didn't bat an eyelash, just whipped out this little pad of post-it notes and started writing. She tore off the one she'd written on and said, "Here you go, Margo. I'm actually booked solid, but I'll fit you in at 11:30. Meet me right about here."

Smiling real appreciative, all I said was, "Thanks," and I went on to the barn.

Well, guess what? There was no need for me to go checking on the horses. Lane, Jamila and Bates were already in there handing out carrots. Jamila was inside Lightning's stall. Lane saw how surprised I looked and she told me not to worry, that animals just seemed to take to Jamila. Sure enough, Lightning was being a perfect gentleman.

Right then, the door slid open. It was Starr Ann. All four of us spent a few seconds smiling like crazy, just happy to share a few private moments.

Starr Ann came over and bumped shoulders with Lane. She asked Jamila, "Wanna hear any of the good oil on Lane, Jamila? I know a few of her secrets."

Jamila kissed Lightning right on his muzzle and came out into the shedrow with us. "Sure. I want to know it all. Wish we had more time."

I said, "There'll be plenty of time someday. We completely understand how anxious you are to see your folks."

A little wave of sunlight passed across Jamila's features at just the mention of her parents. That was real nice to see. I can't tell you how happy Starr Ann, Lane, and I felt for Jamila right then.

Anyway, a loud hoot from outside made us all jump and go look. Almost everybody had congregated around Reef's campfire, and somebody must have said something hilarious, because the whole Posse was just about in tears, they were laughing so hard.

I lost track of Jodie and Starr Ann for about half an hour after that, and I should have known it had something to do with Starr Ann's surprise. It sure did!

All of a sudden, Starr Ann and Jodie came up to us all at the fire and hollered, "Snowball fight!"

I couldn't believe it. This is only May, for Goddess sakes! See? Every winter, Starr Ann stockpiles a bunch of snowballs - fills up our freezer and the freezers in all her bunkers. This year, she even made Jodie let her load a bunch of 'em in her freezer. Anyway, Starr Ann always waits until July or August, in the middle of the summer's worst heatwave, to break out the snowballs and have our snowball fight. It's unheard of for her to spend her snowballs in May. But there they were, in a bunch of piles spread all around the field, far enough from the fire to keep them from melting before the battle.

It took a minute, but everybody caught on pretty quick and in no time the snowballs were flying everywhere, people were screaming as snow exploded against their warm bare legs, and squealing as crushy ice got dropped down the backs of their shirts. Five minutes of fleeting mayhem, and it was all over. Or so we thought. Everybody was out of breath and giggling, when Starr Ann said, "Uh-oh."

All eyes turned to where Starr Ann was looking. Jamila had held back a single snowball and was standing there carefully holding it, with an evil look in her eye.

Giggling, Lane said, "Toss it, Honey Girl, it's gonna melt."

Jamila looked down at the quickly vanishing snowball, and her evil expression turned real seductive. She gave Lane a challenging look right before taking a big bite out of that snowball, then holding it out toward Lane. Guiding it by holding Jamila's wrist, Lane took the next bite. They did that until that last one of this winter's snowballs was all gone.

The girls had to leave early the next morning to make their flight to Jamila's parents' house in Dallas. Before they left, they confirmed what we all pretty much knew already. They're being sent to Iraq. Real soon. They'll be there before the month is over.

Right now, what we're doing is staying focused on the fun we had at that party. Not thinking too deeply about what we can't control.

Oh, speaking of the party, somebody left a pair of chaps near that path to Lori's place. They look like Frannie's. Just sayin'.

Party Tonight!

Real nice of them to give us so much notice, but Lane and her new girlfriend Jamila are on their way home and should be here late this afternoon.

We're so excited we can barely get the plans together, but we're throwing them a party. Nothing fancy. We just wanted everybody who loves Lane to have a chance to see her. They're only going to be here for the one night, because Jamila misses her mom and dad real bad and can't wait to get back to Dallas, where Lane said they're practically holding their breath until they get to see their daughter again. Apparently, on that last visit Lane hit it off pretty well with Jamila's parents. So the girls are spending the rest of this leave with them.

We're kinda disappointed we won't have more time with Lane, but heh, she's a kid in love.

Lane said they have something real important to tell everybody, so Starr Ann and I are officially inviting the Posse and anybody else who cares about Lane, or cares about bourbon, or tequila, or dancing barefoot in a pasture that's so muddy it feels like Crisco between your toes, or sneaking off to share some moonlight with another cowgirl, to come on by for Lane and Jamila's party tonight.

To tell the truth, we're a little edgy about meeting Jamila. We heard she's different. Rides English.

Anyway, hope we see you here. Starr Ann says she has something special planned. Evil thing won't tell me what it is.

In Today's Post

My best friend Starr Ann and I are just pulling off our muddy boots after tramping around in the pasture all morning picking up stones. Always does amaze me how so many of those big, flat chunks of sandstone can work their way to the surface during a wet winter like we've had this year. Anyway, Starr Ann has one boot off, and I'm completely in sock feet when somebody knocks on the door. Laverne, our postal delivery lady.

Starr Ann hobbles to the door real fast to accept the letter. We know it has to be from Lane, because those are the only ones Laverne brings all the way to the door. She started doing that after Lane accidentally messed up the address when she first went into Basic Training. Crazy kid. Anyway, we don't even take time to get our feet situated right before tearing in. I know everybody else feels the same way, so I'll just get out of the way and show it to you.


Hi Starr Ann! Hi Margo!

I really miss you guys. I finished 21 S school and decided to join my new friend Jamila (which is African for “beautiful”) at her family’s house outside of Dallas for the week before we head to our next stop, which they’ve declined to inform us of the exact wheres of so far.

I did real good in school. Seems I paid a bit more attention in math class than I thought I did. Jamila and me were real tight from day one. There were only four women in the class. Jamila, it turns out, is into dressage. Now, her family doesn’t have any money, but a classmate’s mom once took her on a weekend event to keep her daughter company so let her try it out. Well, seems like she was a natural so she was given lessons by the nice white lady and got sponsors for the next few years. So, listening to her talk about horses was ALMOST as bad as listening to you two carry on. She looks totally hot in that funny English riding gear.

Anyway, I think I’m in love. Jamila is super smart and could have gone to college, but she wanted to get away from home and do something of her very own. She jokes that her recruiter told her she could be in the cavalry, but here she is, a land surveyor. Amanda writes a lot, but I hear they are sending her to Germany for two years.

I hear you’ve lost your voice, Margo, and I’m hoping that’s not true. Sometimes, we have to keep at it even when we don’t think we can just to prove ‘em wrong. Least ways, that’s what Sgt. Cooper says all the time. Dallas is real nice, but we have to report back and receive our orders on Friday. Hope to call before then.

I was kind of hoping that this danged war would be over by now, but, I guess with months and months left of our own terrorist regime in office, there ain’t a rat’s chance that I will not end up in the desert sand. I was kind of hoping for Hawaii. With Jamila.

Love,
Lane

Somebody's Always Saying Goodbye

The first thing Starr Ann and I loved together, besides each other, was a dog. If I'm going to make it through this, I won't mention any of the particulars, but when that dog died, Starr Ann and I got real odd with each other. We stopped looking each other in the eyes for six whole months.

Later on, we figured out that every time one of us would let go of the grief a little bit and feel slightly happy, all it took to bring back the sadness was to look right at the other one and bam, there it waited, ready to drag us both right back under. Eventually, we healed up and were us again.

These past ten days with Lane and Amanda went by so fast. We said goodbye to them yesterday morning. They're on their way to training - Amanda to combat medic school and Lane to a six week school for 21S, Topographic Surveyor school. She'll support a combat artillery unit.

I already wrote about the way they quarantined themselves up in the bedroom the first couple of days home, and then there was grocery shopping in the wee hours of one morning. Since then, we've played and laughed and run ourselves ragged not thinking about them leaving.

Starr Ann has been right there in the thick of the revelry. Heck, she's been the ringleader. But a few nights ago, she started coming to my room to sleep. If you want to call rolling back and forth, changing positions about a million times, and ending up at the wrong end of the bed sleeping.

The first night Starr Ann crept into my room was last Tuesday, January 29, 2008. She helped herself to a spot under the covers and whispered, "A female suicide bomber detonated a belt of explosives hidden under her black robes at a checkpoint in Baghdad today. She killed at least two women and wounded five."

I held my breath for a few seconds and sent a silent wish into the ether that Starr Ann's nightmares weren't about to start up again. For a while there, Khyadali Sana invaded Starr Ann's sleep every night in one way or another. Khyadali Sana was 16 years old when she drove a bomb-laden truck into an Israeli Defense Force convoy and killed two soldiers. That was 1985 when she earned the distinction of being the first known female suicide bomber. During most of 1993, Khyadali Sana visited Starr Ann's sleeping self as a lover, a sister, a mother, a daughter and finally, there was that last one where Starr Ann witnessed the act itself. Then the dreams just went away.

So that's why I held my breath. But Tuesday night, Starr Ann didn't say anything more about the woman who'd blown herself and the others away in Baghdad that morning. We said goodnight and slept tight.

During the days, you wouldn't believe how much fun we were having with Amanda and Lane. We were all just loaded with energy and constantly on the edge of giddiness.

Then, on Friday night, February 1, 2008, when Starr Ann came to bed, she mentioned the two women with Down's syndrome who'd been detonated in coordinated attacks on two pet markets in central Baghdad. Those killed at least 72 people and wounded nearly 150.

That night Starr Ann's sleep started falling apart. Of course, with lying right next to her, I didn't rest either.

Two nights later, on Sunday, February 3, 2008, Starr Ann's bedtime story concerned the female Tamil Tiger suicide bomber who killed at least 11 people in the capital of Sri Lanka, on the eve of the 60th anniversary of independence.

We were sleeping worse and worse, but for some reason, our days weren't a bit affected. Once we got up and started playing and partying with Lane and Amanda, it was easy to go for broke and bask in each moment. In fact, the moments kept getting deeper and deeper.

Yesterday, Starr Ann picked up an article that was really an extract of the memoirs Benazir Bhutto was finishing up at the time of her assassination. In it, she tells the story, in great detail, of the attempt on her life the day she returned to Pakistan last year from her home in exile, Dubai. Starr Ann just about couldn't stand what she'd read, and she tried real hard to keep from sharing it with me, but I made her tell me.

As Ms. Bhutto's armored campaign truck progressed slowly through masses of supporters in Karachi, she saw a man holding up a baby dressed in the colors of her party, the PPP. He gestured for her to take the baby, who was about one or two years old. When she motioned for the crowd to make way for him, the man didn't come forward, but tried to hand the baby to someone in the crowd, to pass to Ms. Bhutto. She feared the baby would get dropped and trampled, so she shook her head no, and said for him to bring the baby to her. Finally, the man asked a nearby security guard to let him up on the truck. As this played out, Ms. Bhutto bent down into the truck to loosen a strap on her shoe. That's when the blasts started up. They suspect the baby’s clothes were lined with plastic explosives. Ms. Bhutto survived that one. The baby and 178 other people did not.

We got up real early yesterday morning, because we all wanted to hike to the lake with a thermos of hot coffee and a bag of doughnuts before taking Lane and Amanda to the airport. You wouldn't believe how fresh the air smelled and how good that coffee tasted there in the first light, beside all that cold clear water. We were in great spirits and right before we left, Lane put on a CD and demanded we all waltz. Waltz, of all things. So we danced through four whole songs and traded partners back and forth and almost ended up being late for their flight check-in rigamarole.

At the final hug-up before they went to their gate, Lane reached for her black leather jacket but Starr Ann stopped her hand. Starr Ann said, "How about trading mine for yours?"

Lane chuckled at first, then she saw that Starr Ann was absolutely serious. Without asking why, she cautiously slipped her arms into Starr Ann's brown parka.

Visibility was way too good, and we could see the speck of their plane against the sky for a long, long time. When it finally disappeared, I asked Starr Ann, "Which do you fear more, that one of them will get killed or that one of them will have to live knowing she killed someone?"

Starr Ann snugged Lane's jacket up closer at the neck and said, "Neither thing is going to happen. But whatever this next four years brings, do you promise right here and now to not stop looking me in the eyes, no matter what you find there?"

We both slept in my room again, and I don't think Starr Ann moved a muscle all night.

Got Grocery?

We drank what was left of the milk for supper last night. And that's not the only thing that was running low, with Lane and Amanda crawling downstairs for refueling every two or three hours. Yep. A major grocery run was definitely needed.

Starr Ann (hi, Starr Ann) and I were at the kitchen table playing Grocery List when those two soldier girls came down acting a bit less hurried than they had for a few days. Guess their brains were finally out, and they were ready for socializing. Yay.

Lane peeped over Starr Ann's shoulder at her copy of The List and said, "Ooooo, me want some cookies."

Starr Ann pointed to the cookie section of The List. "We have Chips Ahoy, Oreo, and macaroons. What else can we do ya for?"

"Nilla wafers."

Starr Ann gave Lane a long hard look before adding that.

Amanda said, "So, can we go to the store with you guys?"

We said sure, but warned them that the timing might be a little out of their way. See? Starr Ann and I really like to play Grocery Shopping in the middle of the night, when most of the grownups aren't there. Lane and Amanda sounded up for that, so we planned to head out around two in the morning.

Spend-It-Rite was deserted when we got there. Well, deserted except for a few people stocking shelves, one cashier, and the manager who was probably in the office. But no other customers for sure.

First thing as we entered the store, Lane and Amanda cut to the right. Starr Ann had to stop them. "Wrong way, ladies."

Lane laughed, but she loves to challenge Starr Ann at every possible turn. "What does it matter, as long as we make a complete circuit?"

Starr Ann gave her that one look and said, "If we go that way first, silly, we'll pass the bar soap before the bread."

Lane rolled her eyes. Dang, what a teenager that girl can still be. "And that would be a problem why?"

Putting her hands on her hips, Starr Ann let her eyes get all wide, and asked in a serious tone, "You have played Grocery Shopping before, correct Lane? Amanda?"

They looked at each other and made a 'Starr Ann' face. I'd describe it, but I don't think I can. Sorry.

So Starr Ann says, real disappointed, "That speaks volumes. Allow Margo and me to guide and explain. It is essential to smell the breads before smelling the bar soap. The bar soap tends to jack with your olfactory receptors in a way that ruins the bread scents. But the bread has no effect on the soaps. Get it? Good." Starr Ann pointed to a grocery cart and led the way leftward.

We had a great time in the Produce Aisle. What's not to like about tomato inuendo, banana inuendo, and the occasional spontaneous misting? Nothing, in our opinion.

Anyway, next big stop was the Bread Aisle. Poor Lane and Amanda. We had to show them everything, from how to fan the wrapper for greater molecular flux, to saving the rye bread for last. What are they teaching kids nowadays?

They caught on pretty quick after that, though. By the time we reached the canned fruit, Starr Ann was pushing one basket, with me standing on the front and Lane was pushing the other one, with Amanda riding. Lane halted in front of the maraschino cherries. She reached out and touched one of the jars, her fingertip right on a cherry, and gave Starr Ann her best blissful expression of countenance to give some idea of their deliciousness. Yep. It was a move straight from Starr Ann's favorite scene in My Ántonia.

Tears filled Starr Ann's eyes, and she said, "Lane! You read it? For me?"

Looking all proud of herself, Lane said, "In Basic, we got a couple of free hours every Sunday afternoon, and I read it then."

Well, after that, it was Lane pushing one basket with Starr Ann riding, and me pushing Amanda on the other one. And Starr Ann and Lane kinda went off in their own direction for a while. That was real sweet, I thought.

We met back up with them in Greeting Cards. Starr Ann was in the process of explaining how to go through all the Love cards and separate out the ones ambiguous enough to be Lesbian Love cards. We all worked on that for a few minutes and when we had them all sorted, I got out the Sharpie pen we were gonna buy and made a new shelf label that said Lesbian Love. It looked real nice. Then we did the same thing in Birthday, Get Well, Congratulations, and Friendship. Heh.

That was hard work, believe it or not, and we thought we deserved to go directly to the bar soaps. Dang, I could just take a bite right out of Dove pink soap. I swear I could. Starr Ann favors Zest. I noticed Amanda and Lane both seemed partial to the Sandalwood. But whatever. Starr Ann and I try not to judge.

For the final stretch of store, we traded off so that Lane and I were together. As she started to push me toward the back of Aisle Four, I said, "They're kinda following us, Lane, maybe we should take a left here so we don't end up in the meat section. The meat makes Starr Ann sad."

Lane said, "Already all over that, Margo. Starr Ann told me the same thing about you when I almost led you and Amanda over there earlier."

We forgot the dang milk! Can you believe that? All these cookies and no milk.

What's Your Sign?

They're home! Lane and Amanda got here in the middle of the night and we get to have them for ten whole days. At least, we kinda get to have them.

They arrived waving a DO NOT DISTURB sign they'd pilfered from the hotel they stayed in on their way here. Starr Ann and I fixed up a little food and as soon as that was eaten, those two disappeared upstairs. I went up there to see about sheets and pillows, but apparently they'd found their own, because their door was shut and that sign dangled gayly from the doorknob.

I told Starr Ann, "Guess we might not see much of those two the first day."

Starr Ann thought for a second, and said, "We better have food ready for when they crawl out."

"Dang, you're so right."

The first Lane/Amanda sighting was about three hours later. Good thing about the food. They went through half a gallon of milk, a third of a yellow cake with maple icing, and the very last of our chocolate chip cookie dough.

When they drifted back to the room, Starr Ann said, "Hmmm, next time down they're gonna need salty stuff."

Jodie let herself in the front door and came walking in right about then. She laughed real happy when we told her what was going on. Then she went upstairs for something and came back down laughing even harder. "Did you see the sign those two have taped to their bedroom door?"

Starr Ann said, "Yeah, DO NOT DISTURB. Cute."

"Oh, no, that's what they have hanging from the doorknob. Taped to the actual door, there's a sign that says GIRL ON GIRL ZONE - KEEP OUT."

We had to run up and take a look. It was on white sheets of typing paper, written in cornflower blue and forest green crayon. Real pretty.

So before the hour was out, here come Lane and Amanda streaking back down to the kitchen. And yep, Starr Ann was correct, it was salt they were after. Took them about 30 minutes to polish off a big bag of potato chips, two grilled cheese sandwiches apiece, and a huge pot of leftover onion soup.

The whole rest of the day went just about like that until finally, after we all finished a big supper together, they retired for the night. Jodie, Starr Ann and I sneaked upstairs later to have a look at their final sign and had to crack up. The outside of the door was criss-crossed from top to bottom with bright yellow police-type tape that read CAUTION: CRIMES AGAINST NATURE.

Jodie examined the elaborate web stretched back and forth across the doorframe, and said, "Now how in the world did they manage that from inside the room?"

Starr Ann just cocked her head that one way and said, "Window."

Anyway, Lane and Amanda are home! Yay.

Lane Has Twelve Mommies

Starr Ann just about couldn't stand the idea of Lane graduating from Basic Training without having any family of her own there to watch. Remember how, in her last letter, Lane said, "No one will be here for me, but my best basic buddy Charlotte has her whole family coming from Arkansas?" Well, that line put that one look on Starr Ann's face. The one that says, 'Get outta my way, I'm comin' through.'

By the time Starr Ann got done sending out her Secret Posse Call, each and every member of The Posse was ready to ride. Yep, and I have to say right here that Frannie and Wildwind fit in like they've been with us forever.

The audience attending Monday night's graduation ceremonies at Fort Jackson, South Carolina, wasn't exactly your normal gathering of parents, siblings, aunts, uncles and cousins. One lucky member of Charlie 1/34 had twelve (well, thirteen if you count Sandwriter for each of her blogs) proud visitors - all women, all dynamic, and none of them related by even a single drop of blood.

From the second we reached that Army post, we hit one obstacle after another. But guess what? Even though Lane had no idea we were going to be there, even though we had no invitation, we made it past every barrier with ease. Here's how Starr Ann explained the whole thing to me. Starr Ann said just like loving thoughts attract love and peaceful thoughts attract peace, thoughts of subversion attract posse members with extensive backgrounds in military intelligence. It's that simple and beautiful.

Like magic or something, whenever anybody looked at us real suspicious and asked for our paperwork, either Gina, Lori, or Starr Ann whipped out what was apparently just the thing, because all gates and doors simply opened before us. Excellent!

Praise the Goddess, we did make it to the hall in time, but without getting word to Lane we were there. Poor kid had to spiff herself up and jump through a million hoops all day thinking she'd be the only grad with nobody from home to see her.

The place was packed, and you'da thought we'd have to sit way in the back, but Cap'n Dyke just kinda nonchalantly strolled up front and had a little talk with this real robust looking family, and all of a sudden they were grabbing coats from chairbacks and gathering purses and cleaning up their tobacco spit cups so we could sit down. Real nice people. As they passed, I heard this one older lady asking what 'keelhaul' means. Heh. Anyway, we ended up sitting quite close to the stage.

Lane's Company was seated over to the side, a neatly arranged pool of green and bronze, where sweet young faces floated clean, proud and smiling.

Starr Ann leaned and whispered to me, "She's in the second row, fourth from the right."

Dang. There she was. Lane but not Lane. Lane's eyes set in a more angular face. Lane's body, but more strongly held. Then the girl next to her must have said something funny, and in a quick flash of laughter, it was Lane, just Lane.

Starr Ann turned to her left to whisper to Jodie, I leaned right and whispered to Cap'n, and in a few seconds the whole Posse had its sights on our girl.

According to this very innerestin woman at the microphone (who, incidentally, did to a uniform what Becky C does to short shorts), there were some awards to give out before the actual graduating part.

Lane's name got called for a bunch of certificates - expert markswoman and highest score on the PT test by any woman ever in the history of the Company are the two that stand out in my mind. Each time Lane went forward to claim an award, she looked directly at that nicely uniformed officer who was handing them out, and though we clapped along with the rest of the audience, Lane didn't spot us. She still thought she had no one.

Then they announced we were coming to the highest honor of the evening. The final award was for the graduate who'd shown the most exceptional soldiering skill, maturity, and good judgment throughout Basic Training. And the name they called was Lane's.

Well, that did it! Like our chairs were on fire, the whole Posse jumped up and cheered as Lane approached the podium. This time we were impossible to miss. As I glanced down the row at the likes of us - a Creatively Flowing artist, a nomadic poet, a recovering historian writing a book of truth about the Iraq War, a Meme Queen in a pink feather boa, a Wishful Writer, a horse-handicapping academic, a wild Texan political blogger extraordinaire, a gentle folk rock girl living under the clouds somewhere near the Mexican border, a Jill of All Trades from Colorado, a multi-tasking blogger-mom-marketer-humanitarian-gourmet crazy woman from California, a lesbian Pirate Queen, and two cowgirls - the idea crossed my mind that our presence could just possibly embarrass Lane in the midst of her new, straight-arrow, establishment friends.

Unfolding a piece of paper, Lane turned toward the people. Her composure wobbled for a second there when she spotted The Posse, still standing and clapping wildly, tears on most of our cheeks, and huge smiles all over our faces. Slowly, deliberately, Lane made eye contact with each of us. She glanced down at the prepared acceptance speech in her hand. She gently re-folded it and put it back in her pocket. Then she began.

"I want to thank all my friends in Charlie 1/34 for making Basic Training an unforgettable experience. And deepest regards to Sgt. Angel Moreno, Sgt. William Castor, and Lt. Amelia Jameson. You all have my deepest respect." Then Lane let out a small chuckle. "I had a short speech prepared for this. It was about why I entered the Army at this terrible time in our country's life, what I hope to do for the world, what I hope to make of life, given my rotten start." She came over to the edge of the stage nearest The Posse. "But that was before I saw my beautiful family here. It couldn't have been easy for these war protesters, Peace Bloggers, and fun lovers to come here tonight. Only explanation is they really love me." Lane winked right at Starr Ann and went back over to the podium. "So instead of making that big speech, I just want to wish all of you and your families even half the love I have in mine."

The Posse lost it. I doubt there's ever been that kind of chaos at a military graduation before, but nobody tried to stop us. Lane came down from the stage and it took us about ten minutes to get done hugging and kissing and crying.

We hung around as long as they'd let us after the ceremony, and caught up on Lane's plans. Amanda graduates on Thursday, and Lane says they're gonna meet up on leave. They'll be coming back to Happy Hands Ranch for 10 days between Basic and Advanced Individualized Training!

Temperatures were in the 20s for the ride home, but we all felt warm as could be.

Lane's On The Plane

Somehow, Starr Ann's party plans fell together just right. The house was filling up with women who hit the doorway taking in deep, appreciative whiffs of Starr Ann's cooking and talking fast. What great weather! Have Lane and Amanda shown up yet? Wow, Bates is getting big, no wait, he isn't!

Most of The Posse and all of the Saloon Ladies were there, when Lane and Amanda came walking in looking, well, they were aglow. Heh. People started kissing and hugging them and Amanda was eating it up, but Lane gets a little tight when the affection starts to flow, so she scooped up Bates and told him how handsome he looked in his new "Don't Watch Me Poop" sweater. I got him the bright yellow one with royal blue lettering.

Anyway, this party was already rocking when Lori came swooping in looking cowgirly, yes, but also decidedly piratical. She was leading a contingent from Th'Mound and declared, "This here's Cap'n Dyke's Advanced Plunderin' Party! Prepare to be prepared to be plundered!"

Dang, she was serious. She and the Crew started unloading supplies and Lori personally brought a bottle of Jose Cuervo over to me and asked how I liked it. I said straight, lime no salt. She had two whole shots in me before I knew what was happening. But, heh, it was party time.

Starr Ann was in her glory! Jodie was helping her put out the food, and The Posse just kept complimenting her on just about everything. And Lane really did look happy. She really did.

Right about when everybody got quiet so Sandwriter could read a farewell poem, Lane swung into the dining room, laughing and glancing around, saying, "Where's my Bates Boy?"

FRoG said last time she saw him, he was snapping at one of the pirates.

TripleSecs spoke up and said, "That was me he bit." She was rubbing her ankle a little. "But after that, I saw him walking out the side door, looking all businesslike."

Lane smiled, but kinda rushed to the side door. She was back in a few seconds, looking pretty panicky. "I don't see him!"

Well, right as our all-out search started up, Cap'n Dyke came riding in on Plunder. She stopped next to me, where I was searching some bushes, and said, "Now, Ye didn't think a few Tons o'Ice would be keepin' Me from th'Party, did Ye?"

She studied me kinda hard while I was telling her about Bates being lost. "Me Margo, how much Advance Plunderin' has Me APP accomplished?"

I showed her the tequila bottle Lori had been helping me with, and said, "This much, but that's beside the point! Bates really is lost."

Everything started happening real fast. Starr Ann came running out to tell us Lane had a great idea. She found the card from that animal communicator, Simone, and was on the phone with her right then. We all went inside to get the word.

Bottom line from Simone was that everybody who Bates knows well should fan out, searching and calling his name. Everybody else should get busy printing up flyers and getting them posted all over the place. So, Lori led the poster brigade and Starr Ann, Amanda and I were about to go out calling for Bates, when Lane called us back.

Lane was still on the phone. She said, "Simone has him!" Then she listened a minute, and said, "A man picked Bates up and drove off with him...blue truck...Bates is showing Simone a man's hairy arms as he was being carried...now he's showing her an eagle...no, a hawk on the man's wrist...Simone says maybe a tattoo..."

Starr Ann and I said at the same second, "Randy Sneed!"

We raced for the barn and Starr Ann beat me by a mile, probably because of the tequila. She was already on Oatmeal when Cap'n Dyke intercepted me, saying, "Pop up here, Me Poppet. Ye be seemin' just a Mite Tipsy for ridin' Trickster."

Plunder's one fast steed! We got to Randy's front porch a few hops ahead of Starr Ann. The Cap'n and I reached the door and were about to pound on it, when Starr Ann pushed past us and just opened the thing. Not a lot of locked doors around here. Anyway, there Randy was, standing in his living room smirking.

Starr Ann said, 'Where's the puppy?"

Randy said, "Now I didn't go and wreck your little queer party, did I?"

One second Randy Sneed was grinning his face off and the next he was slamming against the wall with a dagger grazing his throat and a real-life Cap'n Dyke growl happening about four inches from his face.

Cap'n said, "Now ye'll be tellin' Me Mighty Heart Rustler where ye've put th'Puppy."

Real shaky, Randy said, "In that bathroom just the other side of the hall."

Starr Ann threw the door open and came right back out cuddling little Bates, letting him settle against her cleavage the way he loves to do.

Randy said, "I wasn't gonna hurt anything. Just a little joke. You know how I like to joke, right Margo? Right Starr Ann?"

Lane and Amanda came flying through the door and all four of us just wallowed in the relief of being able to touch Bates. Finally, we looked up and saw that Randy was still nailed into place.

I said, "Might as well let him go, Cap'n."

"Not so fast, Me Magnificent." Cap'n Dyke rammed Randy into the wall a little harder and said, "Will One o'ye be checkin' t'See if th'Wee Lad was provided with a bowl o'Water?" She bared her teeth at Randy. "That'll be th'Measure that decides yer Fate, Me Coward." Then she smiled real nice like.

Starr Ann peeked into the bathroom. "Guess you can let him live, Cap'n. There's a big bowl of water and a coupla treats on the floor in there."

I truly think Cap'n was disappointed to hear that. But she turned Randy loose and we all rode home together.

It was the middle of the night by the time everybody got back and the food wasn't exactly in its prime, but none of that mattered much. About four in the morning, Lane got a call. It was from Simone, and they talked for over an hour. After that, Lane's whole demeanor was changed. She was real calm. Seemed real confident. And she started hugging us and telling us she loved us.

Since the night was long gone, and Lane and Amanda had to be on their plane at eight, the whole Posse and all the Saloon Ladies went to the airport to see them off with us.

The very last thing Lane said before leaving was something she whispered to Bates. We couldn't hear what she said, but the puppy who never whines whined the whole time Lane and Amanda were walking away from us toward the plane.



And here's that farewell poem Sandwriter never did get around to reciting:


learning to fly

amanda, lane
i think you're daft
to join the army
sans the draft

in times of peace
it seems ok
with uniforms
and war game play

but war, in countries
far from home
destruction, death
where 'er you roam

but girls must do
what girls must do
and maybe this
is right for you

here at home
we anxious wait
for your return
which will be great

do your duty
soldier well
protect your heart
from war's vile spell

remember love
and gentle days
our love goes with you
for always

Shitake! It's a Shebang!

Holy Mother of God! (Well, we were raised Catholic, remember)

Starr Ann is cooking. Let me compose myself and begin at the beginning. Deep breath.

Okay, so Starr Ann has decided that tonight, Lane and Amanda's final night with us before leaving tomorrow for Basic Training, we will have a big going away bash. Starr Ann, my best friend Starr Ann, actually went to the grocery on her own and is now in the kitchen preparing a meal by herself. Jodie and I begged her to at least consult with Lori, who is a gourmet cook for Goddess sake, but no. Starr Ann says this meal will be her sendoff gift to Amanda and Lane.

It's just like Starr Ann to come up with this at the last minute. Anyway, she's put me in charge of a million things. I'm supposed to be getting the word out, so anybody in The Posse who sees this, know you're hereby invited to the party, okay? I've sent word over to Riding Cowgirls Ranch, so Lori should be here. And Jodie, of course, knows. We have no idea how to reach Cap'n Dyke, but according to her blog, she's iced in or something. I'm hoping that's a teeny tiny Piratical Untruth though, and have some small reason to believe it might be. Sandwriter, Joyce, Mimi, FRoG, Hill, Becky, and Heather! Ya'll get yer selves over here. And, Sandwriter, bring your pen and paper, okay? We have to see these girls off in style.

Jodie rode over to the saloon to fetch Lou Lou and the ladies.

I'm also in charge of keeping the party a secret from Lane and Amanda. Heh. No problem there. They're making the most of their last day to share a private bedroom.

Starr Ann said I didn't have to do any decorating, other than getting something really snazzy for Bates to wear. I saw a muscle shirt at the feedstore last week with "Stop Watching Me Poop" on it. If they have his size, that's what he'll be wearing. Lane's gonna love it.

Dang! All of a sudden, a delectable aroma, something quite unlike anything I've ever smelled, is pouring in here from the kitchen. What if it turns out Starr Ann can cook?

Anyway, that's all for today, because like I said, Starr Ann has a million things for me to do.

Osiris And The Big Dodge & Weave

Starr Ann and I found Jodie in her barn, cleaning up Amelia. Nothing looks dirtier than a paint horse after she's wallowed in mud. Amelia looked like a giant piece of fried chicken as Jodie worked to brush and crumble the thick dried mud that coated just about every inch of her longish winter coat.

Jodie didn't look so good. The drawn face, hollow eyes and tight mouth that greeted us from the other side of Amelia's withers didn't belong to the Jodie we knew.

I said, "Let's cut to the chase, Jodie. What's up with you and Lane?"

She said nothing was up.

I said bullshit.

Jodie shot a look at Starr Ann, then gave in. "Lane has no business going into the service."

I said, "Our sentiments exactly, but it's Lane's life and besides having no power to stop her, I'm not sure, after talking to Lane and Amanda about it, we even would if we could."

Jodie ducked under Amelia's neck to get to her right side. Weird, but I've watched Jodie work on Amelia enough to know she never moves in front of her like that without putting a kiss on Amelia's nose. "Well, then I don't think we have anything to discuss, Margo. Might as well leave it right here."

"Nope, not an option."

Jodie tossed her brush into clean shavings and came barreling out of the stall. "Look! I need to be on a certain plane to keep my sanity and write this book about the war at the same time. Can you understand that?"

"I understand perfectly, but shutting Lane out and pretending you aren't invested in someone who might end up in Iraq isn't a healthy way to stay grounded, Jodie. Really."

Starr Ann put her arms around Jodie, saying, "Margo's right, baby."

"The book really does need to be written, Jodie. And since neither Starr Ann nor I've been to college, or have the credentials to write it, you've got to figure out a way to balance writing and reconciling with Lane before she leaves."

A little bit of Jodie's sense of humor was already flowing back in. "Great, Margo, the education factor was bound to come up sooner or later, wasn't it?"

Starr Ann released Jodie, picked up the discarded brush, and started on Amelia where Jodie'd left off. I bopped Jodie on the head with the rub rag I'd been folding. "Yep, but don't worry. Unless you mention it, nobody'd ever guess you're a professor. You come off as perfectly normal. Really."

I watched Starr Ann cross in front of Amelia's chest and kiss her nose on the way, just like Jodie usually does. Jodie saw it too, and all of a sudden looked like she could just about eat Starr Ann alive.

I said, "You know what? This is one of those places in life that could be a real turning point. A lot of people couldn't get beyond watching Lane go off to the Army during this war without having it turn them into adults."

Starr Ann had Amelia nice and shiny and was in the middle of picking out a front hoof. She paused in mid pick and said, "But we know Neith is watching over us and we're keeping the Osiris myth in mind the whole time, right?"

Jodie cocked her head and said, "I'm familiar enough with Neith, but can't recall Osiris."

Starr Ann said, "It's that one where after death, the only thing that happens is your heart is placed on the pan of a scale. In the other pan, there's a feather. If you escape this life with a heart that's lighter than the feather, you advance to the next world. If not, you come back to this one and try again."

Jodie took my hand and towed me over to a bale of hay. She sat down and pulled me into her lap, where we could sit and watch Starr Ann finish up on Amelia. Tightening her arms around my waist, she said, "Well damn it all, then! You two aren't going to leave me behind. Fuck it. I'm following you into the next world." Jodie squeezed my breast, pushed me from her lap, and popped into the stall to give Amelia two nice kisses on the nose. Then she reached into her pocket for a mint.

As Amelia's strong, flat teeth crushed the candy, her nostils widened and she breathed out forcefully. Jodie took in a huge gulp of the cold, pepperminted air and said, "Just smell that!"

Exit Strategy

My best friend Starr Ann slipped into bed with me last night, right as I was about to fall asleep. Love when she does that.

We were getting situated, cuddling up, and Starr Ann said, "Got a little problem with Jodie."

So I acted all put off, pushed her away from me, and said, "Yuck. Your girlfriend's holding out and you're crawling in here for a little help? Thanks, but no thanks, Starr Ann. It hasn't been that long since Celia Susan was here."

Starr Ann laughed, but she rolled over on top of me real fast. "You know, Margo, Jodie still thinks you and me have unfinished business."

Dang, but Starr Ann has strong legs. Once she gets a good thigh lock on you, you're pretty much stuck until you can trick her into letting you up. I said, "You're unique, Starr Ann, you know that?"

"Wonderfully singular, unique? Or peculiar, unique?" She actually pushed her pelvis into me on each of the 'uniques.'

"Wonderfully peculiar, unique." I tried one more time to buck her off. "We should have tried the rodeo, dammit. I could've made a fortune putting you up on broncs and bulls."

Starr Ann giggled, but she didn't move off. I said, "Ok, what's up with Jodie?"

"Don't know, exactly, but I think it has something to do with Lane's enlistment."

"Dang, you're serious, aren't you? I thought Jodie'd just been a little scarce lately because of being busy with the book."

Starr Ann's voice was taking on that hushed, Starr Ann whisperiness. "She's really thrown by it, Margo. And she's kinda cut off and distant about everything."

I put my arms up around Starr Ann and pulled her down for a full-body hug. "Thrown, as in?"

"Thrown, as in she's real mad and doesn't want to even see or talk to Lane."

Starr Ann wasn't doing anything with her hips by then, was just lying there being a lump. "Then we'll work on this, baby. First thing in the morning, I'm going over there and having a talk with Ms. Jodie Diamond."

Starr Ann reanimated. "You will? I just don't want Lane to leave for the Army without..." Then Starr Ann started jerking real hard and I thought she was laughing. But it ended up she was crying! And Starr Ann never cries.

By the time we got through, we had it figured out that Jodie was the only one of us who's not in denial. Starr Ann and I finally admitted to each other we're terrified of what could lie ahead for Lane in the Army, and we've decided to go together to Jodie's and talk it out.

Anyway, we were past the crying and the talking, and had made that decision about going to Jodie's and Starr Ann was still nice and firmly in place. Thoughts of mortality transform so effortlessly into the need to feel alive.

Starr Ann raised herself up a little and looked down on me. She smiled that one Starr Ann smile. "Know what, Margo? I bet we end up saving each other until our old age."

"You mean after our breasts fall down and go boom?"

Starr Ann cracked up. "Maybe, but that'll hardly matter." She got up then, went over to the window, and climbed out. Starr Ann has never left my bedroom any other way. Always goes right out the window.

Anyway, Lane leaves for Basic Training on December 12.

Blessings

As we sat down to our tempting Thanksgiving meal, Lane spoke up. "Don't anybody get started yet." She reached over and took Amanda's hand. "I want to say a kinda prayer, I guess."

Lane has a spiritual side? Who knew.

Because we didn't know what else to do, exactly, the rest of us joined hands too.

Lane said, "Just want to say thanks to the Goddess, for helping me find my way to this table, where every one of us sits by choice. Not bound by law, or blood, or obligation. Bound by affection, love, and honest to Goddess attraction." Then she beamed her big beautiful smile at each one of us.

Amanda said, "Amen."

Starr Ann said, "Amen."

Jodie said, "Amen."

Celia Susan said, "Amen."

I said, "Amen."


Happy Thanksgiving to anyone who happens to find their way here to the Happy Hands Ranch today.

Holiday Cheer

Lane got up at four in the morning and already had the horses fed and the barn cleaned by the time Starr Ann and I were awake. Naturally, we figured something was up. It was. Lane had another announcement for us.

After breakfast, she started clearing the table, and said, real smooth, "I'm going to spend the night over at Amanda's."

Starr Ann said, "Your buddy Amanda, who rides the paint mare?"

"No, a different Amanda."

I said, "Not the one you said you'd like to kick her butt because of the stupid guys she dates?"

"Hell no! I met this one at the recruiter's the other day. We're going to try to leave for Basic the same day."

Starr Ann held onto her plate so Lane couldn't scoop it up. "Hang on, will you? I'm not finished." Starr Ann jellied another piece of toast. "How many Amandas do you know, anyway?"

Lane shrugged. "A few. Roughly one in three girls born around the time I was are named Amanda."

Starr Ann said she believed that, then asked, "So, spending the night, eh? Thought you didn't like sleeping in houses with parental types around."

Lane's eyes got a real tantalized look in them. "Who said anything about parents? Amanda's twenty. Has her own place."

Starr Ann stopped eating and looked over at me so we could exchange an exaggerated look of clear understanding. Lane took her cue. She wiggled her eyebrows and shook her butt. Nuff said. Lane has herself a girlfriend.

After Lane left for Amanda's, Starr Ann said, "Remember when we were seventeen, Margo? You were crawlin' around after Janie Thomas and I was totally gone over Desiree."

"Actually, you were crawlin' around after Desiree, and I was totally gone over Janie Thomas."

"Heh."

I said, "Goddess, remember how Sister Mary Toadius was always trying to sniff out whether anybody was having any fun? How about that time she caught you and Christine Adams in the laundry room?"

"Yeah, and Sister Mary Blissie Marie came to our rescue by making up that story about how she had told us to get down on our knees and scrub the floor."

I could see the idea cut its way through Starr Ann's mind. She put down the dish towel and said, "Think I'll mosey over to Jodie's."

So there I was, sitting on the porch, watching the rain and wishing for someone to share some carnal celebration of my own with, when I saw a horse approaching from the South. As it drew closer, I could make out Sugar's white blaze against her deep chestnut coat. Dang. Seems I had conjured Celia Susan out of thin air.

Celia Susan brought Sugar right up to the porch rail, and without dismounting, she asked, "Got an extra place at the table for Thanksgiving dinner?"

"Always, Celia." I think I actually had tears in my eyes.

Astonished, she said, "Why, Margo, that's the first time you've ever called me Celia instead of Celia Susan, you know that?"

Celia Susan had peeled back the hood of her rain jacket and her hair was real messed up, like in the morning sometime. I just nodded, and I guess my mood all of a sudden got through to her. She said, kinda snappy, "I'm gonna get Sugar put up snug. Why don't you fix me a hot bath, and after, you and I'll see what all we can give each other to feel thankful about tomorrow?"

When I went back outside to meet Celia Susan on her way in from the barn, the rain had stopped and the air was full of rainbows. Nature sure was putting on a beautiful show out there, but Celia and I went inside anyway.

Indestructible Youth

Lane won't be leaving for the Army in a week, like we first thought. It'll be a month. Lane's particularly excited about the bonus the Army's giving her to report for Basic Training within 30 days. Looks like she'll be getting herself $20,000 dollars for agreeing to go that fast. The Army calls it a quick-ship bonus. Sounds like cargo, doesn't it? Anyway, there's ink on a piece of paper that means we have no power to reverse this. It's a done deal. She is going.

We fixed veggie chili for supper, but Lane was dead asleep on the couch by the time it was ready to eat. Starr Ann and I didn't want to wake her. Poor kid was exhausted from all the excitement. We were, too, but somehow had managed to stay on our feet. We filled our bowls and drifted into the living room, where we sat silently eating and watching Lane's mellow face as she slept.

Starr Ann whispered, "It's like she's fallen onto this huge assembly line that'll carry her right into the jaws of a vicious steel monster."

I nodded and put my bowl down. "I don't think I've ever felt so helpless in my life."

"Me either."

Right then, Lane's eyes popped open and she started laughing like crazy. She sat up, still laughing, and bumped her head against the wall behind her. Didn't faze her a bit. "Holy crap, you guys! You'd think I was dead or something." She adjusted the couch pillow to make Bates more comfortable and stood up. "Chili looks good. I'm about to starve." She bounced into the kitchen.

Starr Ann looked at me and shrugged. "She has no idea what we're going through, does she? No idea what she's gotten herself into."

All I could do was shake my head.

Lane plopped down in the recliner and wolfed chili while planning out her evening. She said, "Mind if I go meet Sandy and Jen in town?"

Funny how just two days ago, we had been all worried about Lane being late getting home from a night out with her friends. That seemed more than tame now.

Starr Ann said, "Sure. What time do you expect to be home?"

Lane went into hysterics again. "Ohmigod! You guys are frickin' freaking out over this Army stuff, aren't you? What happened to the old, 'You need to be back by nine' routine?"

I'll be danged if she didn't actually go back to the kitchen for her third bowl of chili. After downing that one, she stretched real big, and said, "Look, this is a good thing, okay? Don't you understand? I've finally done something that's going to get me somewhere in life. And you all are the ones that gave me the confidence to do it." The awkward, unsure Lane almost surfaced for a second, but the new, happier Lane managed to stay in charge. "I love you, okay? There! Satisfied?" And she did the most amazing thing. She kissed each of us before flying upstairs to get dressed.

I was just about drained, emotionally, and felt sure Starr Ann was too. I said, "Like you always say, Starr Ann, we gotta deal with what is."

Starr Ann couldn't argue with that.

Before Lane left, she handed us a slip of paper. "Here's a number you can get me at tonight, if you get worried about me or something, okay?"

I hugged her and said, "You really have grown up in the span of a single weekend, haven't you? Thanks for thinking of this."

There went that laughter again, and Lane bopped out the door, happy as could be, promising, "Be back by nine, don't worry."

When it got to be ten thirty, and Lane still wasn't home, Starr Ann turned my cell phone on and said, "What's that number, Margo?"

"555-8383."

Starr Ann punched it in, listened for a bit, and hung up. She tossed me the phone, laughing hard and saying, "That girl's a mess."

I did check it out, and Starr Ann's right. I said, "Looks like the US Army might be in for some trouble."

Starr Ann's smile vanished. "Yeah, and we're the two geniuses who gave her the confidence to join."