A Story

Everybody has a story.
Not everyone will be interested in that story, but that doesn't mean it isn't interesting. Writing has always been therapeutic for me, (along with a nightly hot bath!). The paper and pen cannot refuse my words, they can't reject the thoughts I impose on them. Nor will they judge for content, or grade for accuracy. It is safe. There are so many times when it is necessary to be safe while being "real", and recording the "real" on paper validates the experiences. We were created to be relational beings, who desire to be known, and valued, and thereby, validated. So, I extend the invitation to "Life Lines", with the sincerest hope you'll share a sense of camaraderie, be entertained,and best of all, be inspired because...everybody has a story! <3

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Here's My Heart's Bottle of Tears


Tears are a very interesting physical evidence of how deeply we are affected by life's "stuff".
Good stuff, bad stuff, happy stuff, sad stuff, any and all stuff, for us girls more easily, situations arise that can prompt tears. Sometimes the tears come and there may not even be a specific reason for them, they just show up!
I never used to be a crier, back in my youth when I was "stronger", forcing myself to refrain, not succumb to this display of weakness. What after all, would people think?! that I was just a sniveling helpless creature unworthy of any high calling, unequipped to take care of herself let alone anything important? I wouldn't allow myself an emotional indulgence that might cause anybody to judge me in the same harsh unrealistic way that I already judged myself!
I was afraid. Fear is a much bigger weakness!
Afraid to let the real me show for fear of rejection, or taunting, or ridicule, or non-acceptance, I didn't want anyone to not like me. It was easier to hide behind a facade of false perceptions. It still is sometimes!
The forced tears of girls with self motivated intentions too often do serve their calculated purposes. Unfortunately unsuspecting people who want to trust, especially the men in these women's lives, don't figure it out until it's too late, damage irreversible, or at least not without painful cost. Yet another reason in my mind to stifle my tears, I never wanted to be perceived or accused of being manipulative and deceptive, so if the need for tears overwhelmed me I would just leave the presence of witnesses. It was difficult, the "real" me is prone to wearing my heart out on my sleeve as they say!
Life lessons have taught that rejection is a given, I CAN'T please all the people all the time, just as all the people don't please me all the time! So what?! Some of the people will be pleased some of the time, just as I am pleased by some of the people some of the time.
Fear of facing the truths of genuineness, and the realities of life, is crippling! Especially when real life, meaningful life, full life, is what we all want most! So much time and energy wasted on the unimportant, in the folly of youth!
Now, since my youth has long been completed, I let it all hang out, not because it wasn't there before, but because it is much less important to me what any one else thinks about where I wear my heart, it's my sleeve! Now, I am a big blubbering baby! Now, I cry at commercials on t.v. as well as the full length features. Sometimes the tears that are prompted by something as frivolous as a t.v. commercial are pent up from completely unrelated issues, right at the surface ready to spill out at a moments notice, the t.v. commercial just notifies me! Now, my heart's full joy is as capable of instigating tears as the ones that flow out of sadness or sorrow.
It is as if emotions have turned me inside out, all of my innards are showing. The part that most people are never allowed to see. The part that is not what I would choose to have exposed. The naked truth of who I am, what makes me tick. That which comes up from the deepest, innermost places of my being, my soul.
The good, the bad and the ugly.
The second half of the 8th verse of the 56th chapter of psalms contains words that fall on my heart like honey to bees, nectar to butterflies, sweet sweet savory sustenance, desert for every meal!
The psalmist who is experienced in overwhelming emotions of fear, lonliness, and heartbreak writes: "Put my tears into Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?" Clearly he has learned by his experiences and has proven to himself that he can safely put every confidence in his God, who he fully believes because of his experience, knows him, and is concerned with all he cares about in this life. God sees each tear, records when and why each one falls, etched permanently on His Fatherly heart as surely as if the innermost part, could be contained in a bottle, or written about in a book! Not even tears divulge all of the secrets, only God truly sees those inner parts, the parts where the tears are birthed. And He captures those parts of us so none are lost or overlooked as unimportant. He protects the secrets they dare to expose, the secrets of the soul that can't even find words for expression. And it is written and recorded in this psalm whose words have been preserved through thousands of years so that I could read these same words and have this same confidence, to know I am cared for as a father his child.
A little further along in the same psalm I read "God is for me". Not against me like it sometimes feels,. When it seems no one is on my side, I am completely alone, that there is no one at all who could possibly relate to my experience, and that there is no way out of these circumstances, none, these words tell me it isn't so. I am NOT alone! And so it is "In God I have put my trust, I will not be afraid"...because that is the hope. The hope that there is someone who cares and understands, that there is a solution to everything, God is rooting "for me", He is hope, and hope offers me a future. How could anyone survive hopelessly?! More than just hope though, knowing He is "for me", gives me the confidence to move forward into the uncertainties of my future, as opposed to being paralyzed by the fear of it, I am assured that my future is not uncertain with Him, He is with me, and He is "for Me", no matter where it leads me! As a parent would console his child, my heavenly father is there to scoop me into His arms, take my face in His hands so that my eyes turn up to meet His, and there see how intensely His own heart breaks with mine, "for me". He quietly reassures me, soothing my aching heart, collecting my tears in His bottle so that nothing of me is lost or wasted. These tiny teardrops are the pieces of me that best reflect Him, His compassion, His own heart.
I have a little heart shaped bottle that once held Avon's "Here's My Heart" perfume, it now holds tiny Austrian crystals that I cut apart from a vintage necklace, to re-use the old beads in new ways. It is my attempt to create what I envision a bottle of my tears might look like to God, they are precious to Him, for they came up from deep inside of me, the me He created, representative of my pains, joys, fears and triumphs, and He cares about all that concerns me. So I see them as beautiful to Him, like rare jewels of great value and beauty.
Today I was reminded of these words as I witnessed the broken heart of a loved one. I took the bottle out of the cupboard it was in and placed it on the windowsill in the kitchen. The sun shines strong through that window in the afternoon making the "tears" sparkle, like treasures no longer buried.
It serves as a reminder to me that I am valuable, never forgotten. What I feel, God feels with me. Just as I ache for my children when they have needs, and as I thrill to their successes, He too as my Heavenly Father is affected by what breaks my heart, or makes my heart swell with joy.
No matter the reason, we never cry unnoticed or alone.
...Put my tears in Your bottle; Are they not in Your book?
P.J.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Flu Season!

My kitchen isn't feeling good. I think it's got the flu. It threw up all over the place, all night long!
Everything that should be in the cupboards isn't, the trash that should be emptied hasn't been, the counters just look crumby, the table that normally twinkles is dull and blotchy, the floor is cold and clammy, and to top it off I think my temperature is rising just thinking about it! Which means I've been infected with it's infirmity, oh woe is me!
I suppose I'll have to run us a bath, prescribe some soothing sudsy fluids, be up half the night administering TLC,
...wait, what's this???!!! Drewsky M.D.s.(M.y D.arling s.on) is taking to the task, nursing the poor kitchen back to health!
It turns out it was just a 24 hour bug, and the kitchen and I are on the road to recovery. We'll be back up and running, feeling like our old selves again in no time!
That's my kind of "chicken soup"!

Sunday, October 17, 2010

OMGoodness those shoes!






Sometimes, a force far more powerful than myself can stave off, especially considering my weakened vulnerable position, is to blame for my completely irresponsible behavior, this past week a good example.
I went shopping.
Several times.
Enough said right there! One can predict how the story unfolds! Or can one?
Seriously, who do I think I am, Imelda Marcos???!!!
Accountable for what I've done, and according to my count, I'm at 1 pair of shorts, 3 hair clips, 3 dresses, 3 tops, and 3 pairs of shoes! If I were a betting woman I'd have advised myself to find a trifecta to wager on for a certain cash fall!
In my defense I think it's important to clarify that I shopped the outlet stores. So all of my purchases were very reasonable, even cheap. Well, all but 1 pair of shoes that took literally 3 (there's that 3 again!) trips to the store to convince myself to make the purchase, and then only then, because only because, I found a dress at another store that along with said shoes would be the perfect ensemble for my sons upcoming wedding!
Need justified.
This was by far a unique out of the ordinary purchase. These shoes are sweet confections like foot frosting meant to be visually savored, or a bouquet of foot flowers, little presents wrapped with a bow to tickle the toes.
And they're red!
With pink bottoms!
Can you hear the choir singing?!
Even I have a breaking point, a point at which the temptation can no longer be resisted. I did my level best, resisting not once but twice. A second trip to the store with the tempting shoes was for my daughter to see a dress I thought she might like for her brother's wedding, she'll be a bridesmaid. She saw the shoes, I saw the twinkle in her eye! She said please buy them, I said I couldn't. The dress didn't work so we went to another store, there she did find a dress, and there too did I! A nice red dress for the Christmas themed wedding.
When we got back home we each tried on our new dresses for the other to see, and that's when it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks! I was thoroughly overtaken, all resistance gone, excitement rose to uncontrollable heights as adrenaline pumped through my veins pushing a rush of what could only be described as the chocolate equivalent of ecstasy to my brain. It was as good as done, no turning back, the one and only pair of those shoes in my size, oh please don't be gone, would be mine! Perfect with the red dress for my sons Christmas themed wedding, perfect!
I was able to reason with myself that I got the dress for such a great price I could spend more for the shoes and still come out spending what I'd spent on a dress and shoes for my other sons wedding this past August, even steven. Yes it was OK, I gave myself permission.
In August I bought the most expensive dress I'd ever purchased in my whole life, just under $100.00. Now in October the most expensive shoes I've ever purchased in my whole life at $80.00! I know a lot of people would find that incredible, but I could have under my normal frugal limitations purchased 3 or 4, or even 10 or 12 pairs of shoes for that same $80.00, but these beauties are special, the occasion they will accompany my feet to is special. I will just have to sacrifice somewhere else to make it up to me!
I drove back to the store acutely conscious of the unnecessarily low speed limits, parked the car, walked briskly through the door directly to the shelf where after a couple previous visits I knew the shoes were displayed, picked up the one and only size 6 and 1/2, made sure all was in order, tucked them gingerly into their bright pink box, and practically skipped to the register! I had to force myself not to grin from ear to ear out of concern for my fellow shoppers knowing there was no way they were about to make a more gleeful purchase than mine would be, and I pitied them! I was the picture of cool, calm, collectedness, but inside I was leaping like frogs, jumping for joy, positively giddy over the secret treasure in the soon to be mine pink box!
The cashier admired my choice, she showed the girl working the register next to her with a "look at these" exclamation. We all nodded and smiled in understanding approval.
When I got home again, I tried the shoes on with the dress. They say money can't buy happiness, well I'm here to say that money can buy shoes and shoes can make me happy! Albeit fleeting, for I am quite aware that the appeal of even these dainty darlings for the "dogs" will one day lose their ability to steal my material affections like they do on this day. But this day they have thrilled me and I am confident in their ability to thrill on numerous future occasions, the first of which will be the wedding of son #6.
My daughter will wear them, she and I share shoes, she shares mine, I let her.
When I prepare for my sons wedding, stepping toward yet another bittersweet milestone, my feet will be consoled, hugged and cheered by these shoes that make my heart skip a beat, while they make my feet carry me through another family transition. They are worth that.
For all the days between now and then I'll have my $3.00 green shoes that mimic the same little lattice pattern as the one on the Palm Beachy green sweater I just got, and the $2.49 clear jellies with silver trim that I'll wear with the gray and white plaid shirt I already had, representative of my usual shoe shopping habits.
The deep end is a rare plunge for me. I jumped in, splashed around a bit, and I liked it! It was nice, better than nice, I got great shoes, squared away the wedding outfit 5 weeks ahead of the date, we'll double their use my daughter and I, and thinking about it, I stimulated the economy!
It's a good thing I've done.
You're welcome!
P.J.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

funny sign, zebra at conservatory, rhino at conservatory, great old church, my Grandparents



Saturday, October 9, 2010

My Dad and his brothers as small boys, sunset as viewed on the pontoon boat, cowgirl Patty, the "Katie room", one of the many great barns



The "lady in the red", chilly beautiful entrance to Mammoth Cave, great roof design on barn, my brother Mark sitting at the lake, garden life



Welcome Fall! Thank you Summer!

Chocolate land, on our way to the restaurant, huge cross in the sky, Mom's sisters and I, more garden life




Fall has debuted for the year 2010 with a much needed reprieve from the intense heat and humidity of Summer. While Summer holds a special place in my heart always, I am relieved to step out the door in the morning and not have the breath sucked out of me for the stark contrast in temperature and moisture, between the inside air conditioned, and the outside Au naturale!
Here in the tropics summer is best enjoyed indoors, or wet! Fortunately it's not far from here to a beach, and that is where you'll find me along with the natives on days that offer freedom, and freedom will be stolen in moments on days that don't extend the offer. The beach draws the spirit, it's sun shines brighter against a sky whose blueness demands longing appreciation, tempting, even taunting, until one must give in and retreat to the shore, even if only from the front seat of the car for a quick peek along it's edge to admire the white outlines on the blue and green liquid peaks and tubes. It's enticing beauty is year 'round of course, but Summer is the best gettin' wet time!
Traditionally, Summer is also the best time for some traveling. My preferred mode of transport from here to everywhere is four wheels on an interstate paved with anticipation and a change of scenery. Off the beaten path is where the best treasures of the land present themselves though.
As we (my parents and brother and I) ventured north into the middle states, and then over to the east again, I particularly enjoyed the farm lands neat, straight, sometimes undulating rows of tall corn on the flats and hills of unending acreage, as far as the eye could see, surrounding clusters of old farm houses and silos and barns, beautiful barns. I saw perhaps for the first time, real beauty and character in those barns. They seemed to be the heartbeat of the whole farm, where the life of it actually flowed from and back to on a daily basis. Some were pristine clothed in coats of red or white paint. Some had roof shingles arranged in various patterns and colors like fashionable all weather hats. Some had huge advertisements painted on the side to be seen by the drivers on the highway, making them a 3 dimensional billboard of sorts.
But the barns I really looked for and got excited about seeing were the unpainted, with warped weathered gray wood boards whose large gaps allowed daylight to show through from the other side. Maybe there had been fresh paint on their boards at one time, but that was years ago, a lifetime removed, when the family who tended the farm was young, and barefoot children fished in the pond, and rode horses, and whittled sticks, and their laughter, and the drone of Dad's tractor drown out the sound of the cars that whiz past now on the interstate. I could completely imagine the lives that those barns may have once represented, I could almost see the activities of the farm and it's inhabitants as the sun illuminated dragonflies over now un-tilled fields.
As we drove deeper into the heart of America, through these fields whose barns twisted and sagged with age, there unexpectedly rose towns rich with more history, and cause to again imagine the lives of previous dwellers. Rough hewn stone churches with intricate, Gothic, stained glass windows, and towering ornamental steeples broke the skyline. Fancy dark red bricks and painted clapboards on houses with stately porches and columns made it easy to imagine neighbors gathered on porch swings and rocking chairs while flapping a lazy paper fan and sipping iced tea or lemonade. Front porch sitters who were at one time the wealthy town folks, the doctor, town mayor, veterinarian and department store owners. These lined up in a prelude to the ornate store fronts at the hub of a once bustling main street now only half occupied with assorted local merchants, or last hold-outs like the post office, drugstore or bank. Most of the locals now resolved to a Saturday trip to Wal-mart in the more populated town up the road a piece, the wealthy having left for more prosperous greener pastures in the big cities long ago, taking with them their wealth, leaving only the regular folks content to breathe the country air.
We visited a forest. We call wooded areas in the tropics "forests", but in comparison to the woods of the north it is clear they don't deserve such a lofty title. The height and density of the northern woods hides secrets from all the rest of the world, secrets that are willingly shared with anyone who enters and searches. Even the search is easy, really as if the forest life is just waiting excitedly to show itself off! Tall trees sway and leaves rustle as the wind blows them against each other in a standing ovation to us for visiting. Flying insects pass closely to have a look at us, attracting our attention they light nearby, so we can have a closer look at them. It's an interaction of mutual interest. Inch worms, woolly worms, and caterpillars just go about their business, hesitating briefly when they sense our presence may be too close for their comfort, but after a moments hesitation continue on with the task begun.
Sunshine through trees projects patterns on the forest floor that move as the pattern makers move, creating a constantly changing display of light and motion. Combined with the sounds, the critters, and even the fragrance rich with green growing aliveness, it is a theatre, every moment a premier.
A surprising rush of chilly air breaks the heat and humidity of this particular day as the sun came out after a rain, catching us off guard until in our curiosity we find we are at the top of a descent into the mouth of Mammoth Cave. We had a guided 2 hour tour of the 55 degree interior of the cave scheduled for the next morning.
Just before dusk, we started to spot deer, as we caught a peripheral glimpse of movement, we'd point out to each other where to look. Dad saw a deer up ahead a little in the woods near a clearing at the end of our trail where civilization would again greet us, and said "look, right there, you see him? See that lady in the red? he's just to the left of her. When we got up the path a little farther we laughed to see that the "lady in the red" Dad was talking about, was in fact a fire hydrant! That's a good example of the upside of senior vision!
Kenny, son #6 turned 23 that day. It was a great day, 23 years ago, presently, and all the days between!
We left the forests of Kentucky with renewed appreciation for the beauty of creation, and great memories of our time there.
Continuing our trip we passed a huge towering white cross against a blue sky of puffy clouds. Water towers proudly announced the name of their towns, and cityscape's upon entrance, exits, and just skirting the edges, provided interest unique only to that place.
We spent time with family, both in our vehicle and in multiple states.
There were sisters in Illinois, with charming homes to share. I stayed with Aunt Gloria, I love her name, and I really like her house. It oozes vintage country charm, with wood floors that interact with each step, 1 bathroom that had a lazy in no hurry to fill the bathtub faucet, the television tuned in to Shirley Temple movies on Saturday night and bluegrass gospel music on Sunday morning. For 3 days I was quite literally in a different world, and loving every minute of it!
All 3 Aunts had lovely flower gardens full of colorful northern summer blooms, and the butterflies that were attracted to them seemed to want our attention, but usually not so long for the camera to prove it!
My cousin Michelle saddled up her horses for an evening ride in the back 40, accompanied by her golden retriever and miniature daschund. That tiny little dog leaped up and down through and over knee high grasses for at least half of our ride before he was too tired to continue and had to call it quits, what a funny determined little thing he is!
The following afternoon was spent at Aunt Helen's, who rustled up some fried chicken and fixen's for lunch. We attended Sunday morning service at Aunt Betty's small country church, gathered for lunch at a local restaurant with the whole group, and ended our visit with goodbye's in the parking lot. We were on our way to the brother's house in Indiana.
Uncle George and Aunt Katie were already hosting Uncle Bob and Aunt Judy when we arrived on Sunday evening. We filled their large home with people in every room and no space left over. I was given the honor of using the "Katie" room, where 3 generations of Katie's have slept. Pinks, whites, flowers, antiques and bric a brac decorated the entire room in a frilly feminine haven, mine for the duration of our stay!
One evening was spent reminiscing over black and white photos of the boys as children, and younger men, each injecting their own unique memories of the people, places and times. So much life lived to be fitted and stored away now in a box and envelopes, it was good to have had the experiences, and it was good to re-live them, even if the specifics were a little unclear, or a name forgotten, even if just for the moment.
Meals were enjoyed out on the 2nd floor deck overlooking a beautiful green lawn with more of those northern flower beds full of flowers and butterflies.
There's a trail through the woods that Mark (my brother) and I walked on, leading down to the lake, the same lake that Uncle George captained his pontoon boat on for us one evening. We admired the impressive architecture of the homes on the lake, docked at the marina for supper at an outdoor restaurant on shore, and boated until we'd had our fill of the sunset and night lights. My 75 year old uncle was like a youngster showing us his cool new gadget, he was gliding on life as we glided on that lake, I've never seen him happier and more relaxed, it was a moment of our lives well spent.
"Little" Katie Georgina (my cousin, named after both her parents!) and her husband Mark came one evening to visit, and all in all I think we discussed, debated, and solved pretty much all the problems of the world in just those few short days!
Next stop Ohio where we had a safari scheduled, who'd a thunk, a safari in the midst of the rolling farm lands of Ohio! "The Wilds" is 14 square miles of conservation and preservation of endangered species of exotic animals and plants and even insects, recognizing their important roles in the unique design for health and productivity of each other and the environment. We toured in an open air bus, our driver was a retired school teacher who told us several times how lucky we were to have literally all of the animals come very near to our bus for the best views, and photo opportunities. She was ready with lots of information such as this interesting fact that I had never heard, white rhino's all poop in a common pile! They create for themselves a specific area designated to be their "outhouse" shared by all, and we were the lucky witnesses to this unusual phenomena in action!
Our trip took us next to the reason we planned the whole thing in the first place. My nephew Jedediah David decided he should marry his best girl, and so we ventured to Pennsylvania to witness the occasion.
We scheduled a stop on the way to see a play called "Joseph" at the Millennium Theatre. It was a beautiful production, a well scripted arrangement, professional singers, actors, costumes and sets. No detail was left unattended, including us hoping we could come again for a future performance!
With yet more time to fill up on vacation type activities we toured Amish country. Walked along rows of antique stores, admired the inner workings of the Amish lifestyle and the function of their homes and farms, and enjoyed the calm of the culture.
Between Amish country and Jedediah's wedding, was Hershey Pennsylvania, well maybe not right in between, but not so far that it wasn't worth every mile farther to get there, of course we went! Chocolate should be given it's due respect. When I was a kiddo my parents took us there. We toured the Hershey plant, saw the production of the various candies the company made and in the end got a free candy bar! I remember how good it smelled there! Things are done differently there now, some things improved on from a touristy point of view, such as the 3D chocolate movie, that made me scream! It was great. and the tour is now a ride like the ones at Disney where you cruise in a little "car" through the animated story of chocolate making, which includes some interesting history about Mr Hershey and the beginnings of his company. For instance, he and his wife never had children of their own, but loved children, so they started a school that operates still, for children of lesser means to be able to obtain a fine education, and he started and failed at candy making, finding on further efforts some success with caramels before moving to chocolate and making it big! Of course the highlight of a visit to "Chocolate World" is the chocolate they still give away!
Jed married his sweet heart in a ceremony officiated by his Dad, my brother Dave, and had a dance off at the reception with his new Father-in-law, and if I say so myself, did win, but not without stiff competition! And with that, another family gathering drew to an end.
So we began our return to the place we call home, filled with love for the Creator, love of country and love of family, knowing we were fortunate for the experiences.
All the time in the car made it possible to knit a scarf, take photos, most of which were too blurry to keep, read some magazines, and work a couple puzzles. There was candy to savor, snacks to crunch, and moments to doze.
Home again after 4000 or so miles, and a good nights sleep we added up the credit card receipts to figure out the cost, it wasn't bad at all for what we were able to do, and it seemed it had already quickly become part of the history of our family. I was ready to plan another trip, this one had been so good!
Which brings me back to where this started, Fall. My windows are open, I hear the birds chirping, lawns being mowed in the distance. The weather is so beautiful that yard work is actually a pleasure instead of the burden it can be in the overwhelming heat of summer. I imagine the leaves will be changing soon, maybe even as I type these words, and I would like to see them, it's been too long.
I have been contemplating a trip up north, to visit friends that I didn't get to see on the already filled summer trip, and haven't seen in a couple of years. I have time off from work here in October. Yes, I think a trip is in order, just as the summer corn rows called out to me, and the forests, and the architecture and the barns, and the butterflies and the rhino's, and the aunts, uncles and cousins, I hear the wooing of the colored leaves of fall, Patty, Patty, Patty, come, come to us Patty, we won't wait for you, we haven't long, come.
I hear the call.
I really hope I'm able to accept the invitation!

P.J.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

Lady Summer



























































Summer, hesitantly, gracefully,
concedes to Autumn's bold arrival.
She bids farewell to her veil of green with a curtsy,
and a kiss of amber, russet and plum.

He laughs at her, and puffs his cheeks
to blow his chilly breath
like a thief stealing her last,
casually drifting to earth with a blanket of dry brown.

However even he, in his bold audacity, will have to bow,
for Old Man Winter is even bolder.
When his turn comes
he'll shake his icy finger in the face of bold Autumn.

So Summer, while we have been loyal to you,
and you to us,
Autumn must have his chance,
we look to him now, for all he has to offer.

There are leaf piles to be jumped in,
pumpkins to carve, corn stalks and Indian corn to display,
back yard bon fires, hay rides and apple pies to bake.
We will love him, as we have loved you.

We will not forget you dear Summer,
we will longingly anticipate your return,
for none is as gentle as you,
no other shines and warms like you,


You have worked hard for us and served us well,
we understand every Beauty needs her rest,
so until next time dear lady,
permission to slumber is granted.
P.J.

January in Virginia

January in Virginia