Sunday, May 24, 2009

Though deepening trials...

It's been a while since I've written in my blog. I've been through a lot. I experienced a couple of small vacations. One to Provo, Utah another to Palm Springs and then school and work seemed to consume all rest my time. I had to complete a ten page essay on the joys of the liberal media for my on-line English class. It took two weeks of intense research to finish. Now I hope for at least a passing grade.

On Mother's day, I had a situation that presented a bit of a challenge. As a woman, especially one of my age, I had hoped and prayed the days of the month "curse" would pass and pass unceremoniously. However, such was not the case in my life. By the end of the first week I was seriously concerned with light headiness, dizziness and my heart beating out of my chest. So I sought for my doctor's care.

Through blood tests and exams I learned I'd bled out one half of my body's blood supply. Not a good thing if you want to stay alive. On Tuesday evening, May 19, I was admitted to the emergency room at St. Johns/Pleasant Valley Hospital for an emergency blood transfusion. Not an experience I recommend. Just to test and type and cross match took hours. The drip of a unit of blood took even more time and then I got a second unit. That was to bring me up to just over half.

I guess blood is pretty essential to sustaining life. And I never really understood before that the blood in the body is manufactured in the bone marrow. Interesting what you can learn through medical problems. No I face enema and edema and a life time of pill taking.

Wednesday I had an exam by an OB/GYN specialist and a biopsy to rule out certain conditions or to confirm others. Now I wait. Pills were prescribed and actions recommended. New pills cause other problems and in the midst of all these trials--my neck and shoulder decide to slip from their moorings and further add to my discomfort.

So Sunday morning as I was moaning and groaning "poor me", I happened upon the following video from the church about going through hard times. It inspired me, strengthened me and caused me to think about my trials as "being a small moment" and "this too shall pass". That last one was my mother's favorite thing to tell me. She was a wise woman.

Please watch and take comfort.




When upon life billows you are tempest tossed
When you are discouraged thinking all is lost
Count your many blessing name them one by one
And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.

May the Lord bless you all in whatever life hands you. Trials prove you're love. Sometimes I wish I wasn't loved quite so much!!

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Sometimes I feel all alone!

Lately as I struggle to lose even so much as a pound of weight, I end up feeling alone in my struggle. I don't know about you, but that's not a feeling I like much. There is a desolation and a despair associated with being all alone in my trials. Not that I don't sometimes like being alone. At the end of a particularly moronic day, or when I read and study. I like being alone then to think, comprehend and just be. But when I'm troubled or frightened or afraid for the future, I don't like the feeling of being alone--abandoned, forsaken.

There was someone else who lived a very long time ago who had to walk a path that lead him to a place of utter aloneness. A place He had to stand alone against the world in order to save us from it. Jesus Christ was that someone who had to be so totally and utterly alone in order to understand our sufferings. Today being Easter I was drawn to my feelings about Him and what was said of him last week in the General Conference of our church--The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Lessons about the Savior were taught in the most elegant of manners beginning with the discourse of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland.

When you feel alone, as we all do from time to time, please try to remember that you will never be alone to face your trials such as Jesus Christ faced His. Please watch and listen to the following clip and see if you don't feel to say, I'm not really alone, I have someone who'll stand with me. Enjoy!

Sunday, March 22, 2009

My Life as a Song!

Music has defined my life. Hence the name “Carol.” As a child my basic tenets of life were defined with the words of a little children's song: “I am a Child of God, and He has sent me here. Has given me and earthly home with parents kind and dear. Lead me, guide me, walk beside me help me find the way. Teach me all that I must do, to live with him some day.” These are very simple words but with a supernal view of life and a true path to follow. The best thing my parents did for me was provide a little,” “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,” “London Bridge is Falling Down,” and “Itsy Bitsy Spider.” Timeless classics.

Later in my life John Denver became my hero with songs like “Take Me Home Country Roads” and “Thank God I’m a Country Boy.” When I started seeing my husband (although he didn’t realize he was going to be my husband) I used to sing Foreigner’s: “I’ve Been Waiting for a [boy] girl like you,” on my way to his house. At our reception our friends sang to us Lionel Ritchie and Diana Ross' version of “Endless Love” and The Carpenter’s song, “We’ve Only Just Begun.”

I surround myself with music. Sometimes when I’m asked a question, I answer with lyrics from a song. I was a whiz at the popular game show, “Name That Tune." My husband’s favorite exasperated statement aimed at me is, “Oh, Carol.” So I naturally start singing Neil Sedaka’s “Oh, Carol,” in response and it lightens the mood. So when I was asked to choose one song that defines who I am or one song that means something special to me, there is no way for me to choose just one.

Religious songs define me spiritually and there are too many to pick just one. Classical and choral songs I’ve enjoyed through all my years in school and college choirs still float around in my head. Classic rock n roll songs delight me and make me happy. I even enjoy some of the newer groups. Bon Jovi, Cold Play, Linkin Park, Nickleback, (I can see you rolling your eyes), and Paramore. Eclectic, right? I’m positively head over heals in love with Michael Buble’ and his song “Home” is my ring tone. So choosing one song has not been easy.However, last year when I decided to change my life, my married life took on a whole new thrill. Suddenly it was like we were newlyweds again and that spark that kindled between us nearly twenty seven years ago was lit anew. Then the words of Bon Jovi’s song, "Thank You For Loving Me" hit me with full force. I find myself singing it to my husband practically every day. See if the words don’t touch you as well.



"It's hard for me to say the things I want to say sometimes.
There's no one here but you and me,
and that broken old street light.
Lock the doors we'll leave the world outside.
All I've got to give to you,
are these five words tonight.

[Chorus:] Thank you for loving me.
For being my eyes when I couldn't see.
For parting my lips when I couldn't breathe.
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for loving me.

I never knew I had a dream until that dream was you.
When I look into your eyes the sky's a different blue.
Cross my heart I wear no disguise.
If I tried, you'd make believe, that you believed my lies.

You pick me up when I fall down. You ring the bell before they count me out.
If I was drowning you would part the sea and risk your own life to rescue me."


For me, the family is the basic unit of society and thrives when built upon the principles of shared experiences, shared loyalty and shared love and affection. These principles and elements should be revived from time to time to keep a marriage strong and vital. The last year of my life has brought me several new passions: a passion for a healthy life, a passion for writing and a passion for my husband. I hope everyone finds their own passion and keep the fire burning.

Friday, March 20, 2009

Ninner, ninner, ninner. I got mine!

I just wanted to rub it in. I got my Twilight DVD today at 4 p.m. I beat the midnight rush. So ha, ha ha! I guess you know what I'll be doing tomorrow.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Falling off the wagon!

I haven't written in my blog for a very long time. There are many reasons. I'm enrolled in a college English course and the writing is tough and demanding of my precious time. I've become involved with another company and I'm helping them with their books and the training of their new bookkeeper. (Heaven help them!) I'm still working for the two other business I go to at least four times and week and now I've taken on the books of my boss's son. I have about a years worth of bookkeeping to catch up on. Yikes! And of course, I'm busily working on book number five, then throw in my birthday and Tim's and a quick weekend trip to Southern Utah to visit my dad and his wife, Edna plus Tim's father passed away and we spent a lot of Saturday's visiting him in the hospital--and you've got life at it's finest.

However, those are not the only reasons--which are very good reasons--for not writing in my blog, but the simplest reason and the straight forward one is that I've fallen off the wagon.

We've all seen people who've tried to improve their lives through weight loss, quitting smoking and drinking, stopping drug abuse and so on. And then they've seen them slip off their tenuous program and indulge in he behavior that got them in trouble in the first place. Somewhere in the back of my evil twin sister's mind, we look at them and say, "I knew they couldn't stick with it. They're so weak!" Come on, I know you've all heard that nasty little voice in the back of your head say something vicious like that. Or maybe not. Maybe it's just me. It's not that we like to see people fail at something, it's just that we don't want them to best us.

Well...I now know what it's like to slide off the wagon and back into patterns of behavior that are familiar yet destructive. Before Christmas I finally reached the middle pinnacle of my weight loss journey. 104 pounds. Although far from my goal, that seemed like a great milestone. But that's where it ended.

I know first hand what it feels like when a recovering alcoholic hears the call of the bottle which reaches out, enticing them back with the alluring feel of the liquid gold sliding down a parched throat. I know what a heroin addict must feel when they walk the streets and a dealer shoves bag of the white siren's powder under their nose. I know what seduction there is in having another smoker in the same room with you when you're craving a draw on that tobacco stick. I know because I'm also an addict.

I thought I'd concurred my addition, my obsession, my passion for FOOD! But after only eight months of strict obedience, I had not learned the basic lessons of control. I also realize that with an addiction to food, you can't completely shove it out of your life. It's around you everywhere. Your life is constantly bombarded with reasons to eat: Christmas, New Year's, birthdays, anniversaries, travel, funerals--grief. And if you haven't learned what it means to control the situation, then you'll slip off the wagon just as surely as a heroin addict or a recovering alcoholic. There really is no difference.

I then heard the other little voice in my head, the one that tells you that you really can't do it. You have no business trying to quit something or restructuring your life. You're just no good at it. We all have that voice as well. I listened when it told me "just one won't hurt." So I believed and fell. Just one box of Sees, just one pound of fantasy fudge, just one pound of honey baked ham and one pound of scalloped potatoes and one pound of pumpkin pie. Just one drink or two of egg nog and vanilla ice cream, just one more, and one more and...You get the picture.

Then there's another little voice (I'm full of them) that tells you "well now you've fallen off and lost your momentum and slipped up a few pounds, so what?" That's the voice I really hate. Because that's the voice I believe the most. "Yeah, you're right. I've really messed up. I knew I couldn't lose weight all along. You told me I couldn't do it and now you're proven me right." Boy! I hate it when I agree with myself. I sound like I'm slipping into existentialism. You know what that is, right? According to Wikipedia, "a philosophy that begins with a sense of disorientation and confusion in the face of an apparently meaningless or absurd world. Or in other words--nonsense!

I believed the nonsense that only my mind can produce. I believed a lie.

I believed the lie my existential mind (disoriented, confused, absurd) mind was telling me. So here I am. No longer at 104 pounds down. I won't bore you with the details of exactly how many pounds I added back on my bones, but enough to have me believing the lie--you've failed, you can't go on--you're a loser. (Well technically that would be NON-LOSER!)

What's great about Weight Watchers, (and this isn't a shameless plug) it that they help you see around the lies you tell yourself and help you through the barriers that keep you from taking the first step toward jumping back on the wagon. I'm still racing behind the wagon hoping it will slow down and let me catch up. No more excuses, no more rationalizations, it's my choice whether I eat low calorie filling foods or consume everything that's not nailed down. I'm still getting my feet under me. Still trying to push out the third voice and still trying. Period.

Thank goodness I didn't stop going to the gym. That's the only thing that's saved my bacon (no pork-fat jokes, please). I still go every morning, punish myself for an hour so that I don't climb into a ditch after falling off the wagon. So for the present, I'm still running behind the wagon, praying for the strength to fight another day. That's all we can ask out of life. And oh, one more thing--I need to forgive the little voices in my head and forgive myself for tripping. After all, that's all we want from life is a little forgiveness when we stumble and a hand up. That's what Weight Watchers does for me. They offer a hand and it's my choice to clasp it or not.Anywhoo, I still can see some improvement even though I'm running fast to catch up with myself. (Is that an existential statement?)

Sunday, February 8, 2009

My first college essay-A treat for you!

The following is my first attempt at a Classification Essay for my college class at Moorpark college. I thought I'd run it by my friends to see what you think. So here goes.

Carol Malone
Professor Randy Gifford
English M01
7 February 2009

California People

In 1857 in his maiden speech before the United States Senate, California Senator David C. Broderick stated, "There is no state [speaking of California] in the Union, no place on earth, where labor is so honored and so well rewarded; no time and no place since the Almighty doomed the sons of Adam to toil, where the curse, if it be a curse, rests so lightly as now on the people of California." (1 Lynch, p. 175). In 2009, people still flock to California in search of “The Dream” of making it big. Generally speaking, wages are still higher here than in other state. Opportunities for employment are more plentiful and there are a greater variety of jobs here than any other place in the nation. In spite of recent economic downturns, Californians on the whole, are still better off than most major populous cities in the rest of the world. And though the state’s economy has fluctuated from the sixth largest in the world to the current standing of tenth, people still find labor to be rewarding and lucrative. Many businesses and industries thrive in California. From mom and pop shops to import/export magnets to Fortune 500 companies—all employ vast armies of people. The following three industries consistently hail among the top ten producers of California goods and services: the farmers who toil and sweat to cultivate and grow crops in the fertile fields and valleys of this rich land, the technological geniuses that have sparked the computer information revolution, and the brilliantly talented and creative moguls of the film industry.

The leading economic industry of California has always been farming and agriculture. What is the driving force behind the California farmer who grows food for a nation as well as the entire world? Who are these people? "The farmer has to be an optimist or he wouldn't still be a farmer." (2 Rogers).These people—these optimistic farmers have to ask themselves—why do I farm and where? There are many reasons. Some people farm on something called a “stewardship” farm because they are the type of people who want to “help conserve and care for the land and other natural resources of the farm”. (3 Ikerd ). And others grow food solely for commercial gain. Still other people farm because they were raised on a farm. It’s in their blood. The live for the feel of the soil, the passion to watch things grow and to enjoy the gamble. They place their bets against the uncontrollable elements, water and irrigation problems, market prices, transportation issues, property taxes, higher production costs and governmental interference. These hardy people farm because it is a family tradition and a heritage from generations past. One such family grower in the local area of Ventura County is Underwood farms in Moorpark, California. Sara Jane and Craig Underwood are the current owners of the farm and oversee the day to day operations as well as the overall care for the soil, the manipulation of crops and care for vital pollinating insects. The farm has been in Craig’s family since 1867. They are especially known for their innovation in baby and specialty vegetables. People can go to their farm and hand pick right from the fields or orchards. They have their own roadside markets that serve the community and participate in thirteen different Farmer’s Markets that bring the fresh product directly into the community and into the hands of the end consumers. Pride in accomplishment, gratitude for the cooperation of Mother Nature and a loyalty to family heritage is what drives the Underwoods and other farmers to maintain excellence in farming.

Another factor in driving the economy of California is the computer information technology industry. The majority, but not all individuals that engineer, build and compute their way into the information industry have keen minds and highly developed intellects. Stanford University is a leading factor in the development and facilitation of information technology and culminating in many opportunities for enterprising young people. One such industry leader is Larry Page who became the innovator and co-creator of the Internet’s most popular search engine—Google. Shakespeare said: "Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em". (4 Shakespeare). Larry was a product of all three of those descriptions. Can the home environment and the way one is raised be the catalyst behind the career path a child chooses? Definitely. Larry was raised by a father who was a professor of computer science and a mother who taught computer programming. Engineering and computer magazines littered their home—literally. Larry said he always knew he wanted to invent things even as a young boy. Then at the age of twelve, he decided he would start his own company someday. When he went to Stanford for the PhD program, his research turned into something called a “search engine,” then other people thrust him into the limelight.“We didn't start out to do a search engine at all. In late 1995, I started collecting the links on the Web, because my advisor and I decided that would be a good thing to do. We didn't know exactly what I was going to do with it, but it seemed like no one was really looking at the links on the Web -- which pages link to which pages. In computer science, there's a lot of big graphs. Right now, (the Web) has like five billion edges and two billion nodes. So it is a huge graph. I figured I could get a dissertation and do something fun and perhaps practical at the same time, which is really what motivates me.” (5 Interview: Larry Page). Millions of people have been affected by the efforts, drive and genius of Larry Page. The word “Google” is actually considered a verb now. Who hasn’t “Googled” for a web site, map, directions, on-line images and a view of the earth from a satellite? From home nurturing to desire and drive to creative innovation, Larry Page has put his personal stamp on the economy of California and on the world.

Other major contributors to the economy of California are the people who drive the film industry. These talented and creative people use their genius to entertain and enliven. Who are these people and what are they like? Are they formally educated, have they had years of training in the industry or just have a stupendous amount of luck? For some movie moguls it is a combination of all three factors. One such mogul who has flooded the world with a treasure trove of entertainment, is the talented and creative director and producer, Steven Spielberg. Millions of people have spent billions of dollars to be entertained, scared stiff or to lose themselves in a world of fantasy and adventure all due to the unparalleled contributions of Steven Spielberg. He once reported that film making was in his blood. He made little films of blowing up Lionel trains as a young child, filming them then charging his friends to watch them. He had his little sister selling popcorn. Thus began his journey into film production.Steven made his own inroads into the business. After being denied entrance into prestigious film schools, he attended the University of Long Beach and studied English. On a ride around Universal Studios, he hopped off the tram, found a small janitorial closet and set up business. The studio people just got used to having him around so he stayed. Each step in Steven’s career led him upward. He made his first amateur film; an eight minute Western called The Last Gun, which eventually led him down the path to the ultimate dream fulfillment. From his first full length picture, he has also brought us alien fantasies such as E.T., The Extra-Terrestrial, action horror films such as Jaws, and adventurous romps such as the Raiders of the Lost Ark series. Then he has caused us to think with movies like The Color Purple and Schindler's List. He has captivated the kids with cartoons such as "Tiny Toon Adventures", and "Pinky and the Brain". California and the rest of the world will not soon forget the impact Steven Spielberg has had on the film industry. The State's economy had benefited immensely from the $4,613,000,000.00 his films have grossed. Roger Ebert (Sun-Times film critic) has stated, “If Spielberg never directed another film, his place in movie history would be secure. No other director has been more successful at the box office and few have placed more titles on various lists of great films. No director or producer has ever put together a more popular body of work. That’s why the movies we’re seeing are made in his image.” (6 Wills).

When the rest of the nation and the world—for that matter—look for a model of financial prowess, economic success and people who are willing to lay it all on the line for the industries they represent,California leads the way. From the humble people who bring crops from the ground sometimes with nothing more than their bare hands to the heads of major film studios, people of many unusual backgrounds and upbringing and differing fields of expertise can change the face of business and the economy. These three types of Californians, the farmers like the Underwoods, the technologically gifted entrepreneurs like Larry Page and men with vision and creativity like Steven Spielberg have changed forever the face of California industry and economics. They have influenced all of California—if not the rest of the world—with their hard work and devotion to a dream. Their labors have been richly rewarded and the world honors them.

1 Lynch, Jeremiah, 1849-1917, The Life of David C. Broderick, A Senator of the Fifties,1911); San Francisco, A.M. Robertson publisher, p. 175

2 Rogers, Will, http://www.willrogerstoday.com/will_rogers_quotes/quotes.cfm?qID=5

3 Ikerd, John, Why Do Small Farmers Farm? Published in Small Farm Today Magazine,September-October, 2003

4 Shakespeare’s play, Twelfth Night (Act II, v, 156-159)

5 Interview: Larry Page, Founding CEO, Google Inc. October 28, 2000; London, England; Academy of Achievement at www.achievement.org. This page last revised on Mar 1, 2007 13:44 PS

6 Wills, Dominic;http://www.tiscali.co.uk/entertainment/film/biographies/steven_spielberg_biog/8

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Chapter from my book #5

I finished roughing my fourth book on the 29th of December and immediately plunged into book number five. It's another love story, (what else), taking place in my home town of Camarillo with a young man who's been married, divorced and has custody of his two children. He meets a young woman that he doesn't want to love and then the fun begins. So here is Chapter Two of my fifth book:

He hadn’t intended to stare, but when a man’s been without a woman in his life for as long as he had, well, it was a welcome sight. Marc, or Marcellus Hamlet Swane, as his fanciful flighty mother had named him, was just retrieving the boxes containing the wood laminate for his son Adam’s free-wheeling bedroom. Marc opted for man-made products for the rambunctious and boisterous young five year old boy who moved through a home more like a charging rhino than a normal human being. Durable, sensible and practically indestructible, that’s what the label on the box read and Marc was all for it.

Before grabbing the final box and hefting it into the house, he’d couldn’t help but hear the 306 horses roaring down the block and squealing to a brisk stop in the driveway of the James’s old house across the street. Silvery steel gray, he smiled. His favorite color. The guy had taste. Then the car open and long silky legs slid out half hidden under a butterscotch colored skirt followed up by a jacket in the same color with a blouse the color of melting butter. Some guy was all Marc could manage. That’s when he dropped the last box, leaned back against the tailgate of the truck and crossed his arms and legs to enjoy the view.

The woman stopped for the longest time and just looked at the house then turned to look down the street as if looking for someone. Her lips moved but at this distance, he couldn’t hear what she said. Talking to her self, he mused, wasn’t a very good sign of a stable mind. Anybody that looked like that, drove a hot car like that and lived all alone in a huge English Tudor had to be just a little bit off. But that isn’t why he kept watching.

The Hoffman’s dog was running around in circles in the yard next door, but the women in butterscotch didn’t seem to notice. Loud rap music wafted from Ricky Hernandez’s car as he started it up to go to work at In-N-Out. Then the yard crew down the block at the Rameriz’s place began the loud work of grooming the yard, but she continued to stare off into the west as if saying good bye. And he kept watching her—wondering.

Why hadn’t he noticed her before? Surely he would have noticed a woman who looked like she just stepped from the pages of Glamour before now. Maybe he should have been paying attention to his Aunt and Uncle’s home a long time ago instead of staying away from it like a wounded puppy. But their passing and the subsequent legal battle for their estate had left everyone in the Brightstone/Swane family on edge and bitter. He was no exception.

He glanced again at the blond with the great legs and the great car and wondered if she’d finally come to the conclusion of her daydream. He figured a woman like that was totally self-absorbed just as Lilly had been and accustomed to having the finer things in life.

Caution brother, he warned himself. They’re okay to look at, maybe pine for, but hands off! Let some other sucker grind his teeth on that one.
Just then the woman reached up and pulled something out of her hair releasing almost three feet of the silkiest wheat colored hair he’d ever seen, then shook it out. Then she bent over to pick up the newspaper and his mouth went bone dry. Fighting unchaste thoughts he looked down at his dirty, calloused hands and fidgeted. It wasn’t right for him to be staring at a woman like he’d been doing. He should get back to work. There was so much to do before move-in day. He didn’t have the luxury to stand and watch a beautiful woman that had an invisible sign on her attractive back that read “hands off buster”. And even though he hadn’t been what you would call really active in church of late, he knew it was wrong to crave something akin to the woman who’d broken his heart. Stupid, he chided himself. Absolutely stupid. Get back to work.

Before he could move, the leggy, blond fished something out of her trunk and moved inside the house without a backwards glance in his direction.

After she was safely inside, another car screamed down the street and bumped violently into the drive way next to the Z. He prayed the little Mazda Miata wouldn’t come in contact with the Z. It would devastate him. Another tall leggy brunette half slid, half pulled her yard long legs out of the squatty car and skipped up the sidewalk after the blond. Just before she ducked into the house, she shot him a cool look over Oakley sunglasses and pursed her lips.

What a show! Two gorgeous women for a price of one.

He’d just about decided to turn around and lift the box from the truck bed when another car chugged down the street. A little red Fiat about thirty years old clamored to a stop in front of the same house. Marc watched out of pure curiosity. The door had to be forced open and complained loudly with a metal grind. A woman of medium height with short spiky black hair tumbled out of the car almost meeting up with the ground. Her lips moved in a silent derision, but she dusted off her black slacks and straightened her silky black blouse and shot him what looked like a disgusted look, but he couldn’t tell for sure because as she also wore black sunglasses that kept her eyes hidden from him. He imagined black as well.

She gripped a very large purse, the contents almost spilling to the ground, slammed the complaining door and sauntered—hips swinging to the door and disappeared after giving him a thorough look. Black cat crossed his mind. She resembled a black slinky cat. He imagined she just might purr.

He turned back to the truck bed and picked up the last box of flooring. As he slammed the tailgate, two more cars raced down the street. He laid odds which house they’d stop at. Man, he was glad he hadn’t bet against himself—he’d have lost.

This time a long legged red head and a diminutive blond bounded out of an old Chevy and a Toyota Prius. Gas hog and environmentalist, he smiled and leaned back to enjoy the rest of the show.

The red head looked like an Irish dream dressing to her strengths in emerald green and gold. The little blond wore a simple pair of dark pink slacks and a pink blouse. Some sort of uniform.They met and hugged in the middle of the street. Marc envied their easy camaraderie. Then the red head tilted her sunglasses down a long perfect nose and studied him. Her ruby red lips curled up at the corners and she muttered something to the little blond that had her spinning around to stare in his direction.

Red waved a hand and his went up automatically in response, frustrating the life out of him. Stay cool, brother, he warned himself. No need getting involved with a hen house full of dishing women. Before the blond could reciprocate the wave, he strode off to the house and slammed the door. Women!