Some pictures from Toronto

As always, food makes a strong impression on me.

This does not do this market justice. It was indredible.

one of so many

downtown

Love these little shops and this cool part of town. Courage My Love was my favorite store.


I'm back from my trip to Canada with my Love. I will write my thoughts later.

Leaving Canada today. I will post pictures tomorrow. I had a great time.

Give

Moving on from my hair. That's just too much me. It's a new day.

Altruism is the renunciation of the self and an exclusive concern for the welfare of others. It is a traditional virtue in many cultures and a core aspect of various religious traditions, though the concept of 'others' toward whom concern should be directed can vary among religions. Altruism is the opposite of selfishness.


I will be watchful for opportunities to be altruistic. Godspeed to the others trying for this. I find that it's not losing yourself to the point of no self, but giving the self that is uniquely "you" to others. Only you or I can do that. Which means we need each other. I'm a hand, and you're a foot. Some would say I am a mouth. Regardless, I know I'm part of the heart. LOVE to you.

Vanity thy name is...

I think I've been pretty clear about my disdain for hair dying. I hate it. I feel (am) fake when I do it. Society wins on this one, and I am pissed. It's like stuffing your bra or getting butt implants. We are supposed to be secure and at peace with who we are and our age, but only with no gray hair. Having gray would be "letting yourself go". Gray hair = old, and that is bad, I guess. So once every 6 weeks or so, I bow down to the world's opinion of what makes me "beautiful", and I fry my hair. I throw $10 to the Magazine gods or whoever the hell I am adhering to. I submit my brain to the beauty industry's propaganda.  I would have been just awesome in Germany in the 30's. A real maverick. (sarcasm in case you didn't catch that vibe.) Please know that I know I am a hypocrite. I cannot bear the thought of Tracy not thinking I am sexy. I am vain and need to look at my reflection, shoot myself with finger guns, and give a quick air kiss like every body else. I want to be admired and pretty. And I am willing to do what it takes and what I have enough money for. If I lived in one of those African tribes, I'd wear neck stretchers, and I'd have guaged ear lobes, and I'd walk around topless.  I know what I am, and I am no better than any other woman in the world. At the end of the day, I want a man (Tracy Miller in my case) to want me. Damn.

 So yesterday, ironically and so sadly, I made a dye mistake. I know better. I wanted to go a little darker, for "fun", and I chose Dark Ash. It might as well have been called Gothic Brown or Gypsy Wannabe or Gene Simmons Maple. My hair is black.(Oh that's pretty, Karen.) No it's not. I am horrified. It's like I have a subliminal force or drive to screw my hair up. A masochistic need, and I'm sadistic enough to oblige.  I've got to get some inner beauty. Fast.  If anybody has any cures, remedies, or just their own stupid stories, I would appreciate it. Meanwhile, I will continue to be startled every time I pass by a mirror. Who is that old looking woman with the jet black head? Oh that's me. Adios?

Gainesville Sun Media Day

Chase, Evan, Bruce, and Matt

love this picture.

Wedding Bells

For those that do not know yet, my Andrew and sweet Chelsea are getting married. They have decided to have their ceremony on October 22, 2011. I am thrilled. I could not hand pick a better suited person for each of them. I realize they are young, but who cares, really? They have as good a shot as any. Hell, a better shot than me.

Marriage is an interesting concept. The notarized piece of paper means nothing to me except for the fact that you have a legal contract with someone. Whatever. I have a legal contract with the IRS, too. Marriage is more about the heart and mind. It's about the integrity of committing to this other human being forever. Such great intent! It's a covenant. A sacred promise to treat someone with love and respect. To walk through life with someone. To partner up.

And then the children come along. That is another story. For now, I will be so happy for Andrew and my little Chelsea. It gives me hope to see their optimism and love. I hope they soar. What could be better than that?

Happy me.

Most of the family in Clearwater.

Good Bye, Summer

My Canadian in laws left this morning. I absolutely adore them. They are good, fun, and full of love. They embraced my own children like they were theirs, too. I am mostly happy about that.

Now school starts tomorrow. Summer will be over, and I am thrilled. I will see the kids in a normal day to day setting, and we will have some structure. I am still having nightmares about so many things, but I can't help that.

I'll have more soon. Things are shifting for me, and I will have to put it all into words to make sense of it.

There was a farmer that had a dog.....

Last night Kathy and I went to the American Legion Hall Bingo night. The sign said it started at 6, so we got there on time. The whole room looked up, almost froze when we came in. They were in the middle of a game, and it was that moment in a western when the saloon goes silent when the stranger swings open those little doors. (What good are those doors for anyway?) We made our way to the back where the lady was obviously in charge. I'm pretty sure at that time I was the only person under the age of 65. Oh and Gary. He got called out by the microphone lady for not getting in his seat. I grew up Catholic. I have spent some time in the Bingo hall at St Alphosus. This was not quite the same spirit. I saw no priest drinking tap beer. I would have loved a beer.

We found out quickly that we were in the pregame phase- Early Bird. The real Bingo started at 7. I was thinking that with my hour to kill I would go to JBBQ and get a Fanta or something. The smoke was already getting to me. But the lady said not necessary. There were refreshments back in the kitchen. So Kathy listened to the lady explain all the ways you could win. Lines, Postage stamp, six pack, Crazy T, the K, and Full Kite. I will never trust an old person again that acts like they can't catch on to things. My God. We grabbed our ink dobbers and headed across the room to the "non smoking" section.

The games went pretty quickly. I only ruined one card. And I was so happy to win in the last game. Unfortunately, I had bingo'd who knows how long ago when I discovered my Inner Square. I got confirmation from the people at the next table, our Bingo Mentors, and I yelled. Someone else had Bingo'd by that time so I had to split the pot.The one thing I still can't get over is the announcer lady's absolute refusal to say the word "yellow". She called the yellow card burnt orange and when corrected by novices like me and some others, she said she didn't have to say that word and basically if you don't like it, kiss her ass. I wanted to know what yellow had done to her. What happened to her in a yellow room, or what jerk back during the war broke her heart in a yellow suit. I came dangerously close to asking her, but thought I would just let it go. Who am I?

So we got home at about 1030. I had to take a shower since even my underwear smelled like smoke. I crawled in bed, accidentally poked Tracy Miller in the face, he sleepily said "Baby, what the f**k?, and I cuddled up next to him and went to sleep.

Following the Yellow

Tracy's Dad and stepmom, Kathy, are here from Canada. They drove their red van down from highs in the 80's to hot humid Florida. I have decided after not much time that I want to be Kathy. She is authentic and beautiful. She doesn't have deep worry and sadness lines in her face like I do. I intend to find out why....She has no idea, but while talking to her I almost cried 3 times. She's a Catholic girl, so we both know what the deal is. But what I like about her the most (so far) is her spirit. It's the spirit that I have/had but I have buried for reasons I cannot say. She is not diminished. She works at a Walmart McDonalds in Canada and loves it. She loves being around people. Kinda like my JBBQ. She believes in God and is open to suggestions. And she loves purple. She knows it's a lucky color. I told her of my love for yellow as well and she shared her sister's story. When her sister needed guidance in life's maze, she would get alone, close her eyes, and when she opened them, would look for yellow wherever she was. She would follow the yellow. I am not sure how, but I want to follow the yellow. I will find that out, too...So, I will have a good week. I get to talk with a truly interesting and sincere soul. It's like water in the desert. Lucky purple me.

Guest Post from Bradley

(Bradley is my oldest son. He will begin an editorial segment on my blog. Starting today. I am trying to think of a good name for it. Perhaps I can get some feedback on that...)

Hello there friends of Karen, my name is Bradley Harvey. As you may have gathered from the intro, I am Karen's oldest and most likable son. I, like Karen, have been told many a time that I should take up blogging because I'm "soooo funnnnnyyy". While you'll inevitably beg to differ, I have been meaning to write in some  fashion for quite some time. Factor in my unwillingness to commit to anything long term, and you have the makings of a guest blogger. I'll pop in from time to time, breaking up the monotony of the Porch to bring you a gritty, fresh perspective on life and world events. Or I'll just tell a funny story and let Karen handle the serious stuff.

As it turns out, we actually do have serious matters to attend to today. The single most important event of the Miller/Harvey calendar year is fast approaching, LSU Football. Like Karen alluded to in a previous post, being an LSU football fan is like discovering Mumford and Sons before they hit it big. You have this great, life-altering source of excitement that virtually no one knows about. Non-fans will act like they're listening, feign interest to appease you, all the while resting comfortably in the knowledge that every fan feels that way about their team. Every college football team is special.
Then they experience this for themselves:
THIS will hurt you, because it finds it's way into your soul, where football shouldn't be. Losing shouldn't depress you for months( in my case, years), and winning shouldn't give you the unquestionable dominance over peers that it does. LSU has this power because it isn't about football, it's about the Louques. And the Leblancs, Templates, and every other families that hails from Louisiana. It's the purest form of passion you can have. The best part is, like head lice, LSU football is contagious. Charlie, Kameron, Kenny, Chase, Wynston, Zak, Nik, and numerous others can attest, there's no better time to be had. I have cried, provoked near physical altercations, and lept a solid 9 feet across my living room in celebration for a touchdown. I invite anyone and everyone to come to the house this fall, on a Saturday to watch our boys with us. You may not like me afterwards, but you will sure as hell like LSU football.

2011 brings warranted optimism in our squad, as our defense is reaching Saban-like levels, and Jordan Jefferson can't get any worse. What's more exciting, the old boys of Florida are ranked a respectable 23rd in the nation. The normal trash talk from the squarest men in the land has been strangely absent, likely because John Brantley looks to lead an offense less excting than Timothy Tebow latest book "The Moment that Counts: The Subtle Art of Crying when the Camera is Watching".  As it stands, I'm going in confident with com padre Evan Starvey and the Mother of fandom, Karen herself. If you didn't like this, deal with it.

No Place Like Home.

When people here in the south comment in February how cold it is, Tracy just smiles to himself. He's from Canada. He knows there is cold, and then there is wicked cold. It's the same way that Me and my kids feel when someone says that their family is crazy. We just nod and listen to the wild story about Aunt So and So spilling the chowder or Grandpa getting worked up about something. We know crazy. And we like it. And so it is with LSU sports. You just don't know. Some of you do. We have brought you to Baton Rouge on gameday. Some have been in our living room and felt the tiny bit of crazy. I remember Evan running outside and howling at the moon, Bradley getting his blood pressure checked and then being ejected from the living room, or what kid hasn't sat by me and gotten the crap knocked out of him while I yelled Just Geaux (Wynston, Ryan, Tyler, Charlie, Kenny, and so many more) If you watch this clip, please notice that most of the plays are in the 4th, game on the line...I remember all of them. I know where I was. So, enjoy if you feel like it. I did. And if you are watching LSU and they are losing, don't go to bed. You never count those boys out.

A year ago I had no idea that I would be married and living where I live. It makes me wonder what next year will be like. I honestly can say I have no idea. I know school is about to start, so my kids will come home. I am happy for that. I will be working at JBBQ. I love my job and my boss. I am very lucky. I will start going back to the track soon. I have been waiting for a hip thing to get better, so maybe soon...I love the football field. When I go, the sprinklers are on, and I am usually alone. I run or walk distances for my kids and other fortunate recipients of my love. I like dedicating sacrifice to them. It makes it easier.

There are no sure things in my life I am finding. Well, maybe a few. The sun tends to rise and set...child support is never on time...I will laugh at some point every day. But I have come to the understanding, again, that nobody takes care of me but me. I can't get that through this head, but it's the truth. I like being taken care of. It's why I take care of everybody else. The do unto others ...but Oprah was wrong. Just because you put things out there, they don't necessarily return. You have to give for the sake of giving. For the simple joy of emptying out yourself. People are not bound by the universe to return the favor. I gotta remember this shit.

Have a nice Wednesday.

We (I) think things about ourselves that are not always the case. I know I like to think I'm kind or loving or whatever. I think a good way to find out who I am would be to ask my children what they think is important to me. Or the people I work with. That would be a place to start. I think we all have core values that are there, but we stray off the path. I know what I think is important. I just don't know if I have been acting like it. So, today I will try. To get back. To look at other people and to respect myself in some small way. Because I don't. I too often diminish all of me in order to be "loved" or at peace. I am searching for the balance. Today I will look for opportunities to be nice. That's all.