Finding out your husband loves IKEA is like finding out your 1970 Bronco comes with a built in GPS, heated seats and self-park feature after you bought it.

Finding out your husband does not like to assemble all the things he buys you at IKEA is a little less exciting. But fun in a rolling snowball sort of way. (kitchen snowball leads to playroom leads to office leads to bedroom leads to bathroom, you get the idea)

Building things - things someone else cut out and measured and counted screws for - is a wonderful way to cope with grief. That and running. When I got out of the Corps, I vowed never to run again. There could be a field of burning Napalm around me, and still my feet would not move faster than a leisurely shuffle. But now I've discovered this passion for running I never had before. I'm out three or four times a week, two or three miles at a time, dog or no dog, kids or no kids...

and speaking of dogs my poor beautiful Cassius had to go to that great big "farm in Montana". Our vet said he was "deranged" a "victim of bad breeding". I think my father's death was the catalyst for his psychosis. He went nuts. Very sad. I guess now that he's gone I can show you a picture of him....

So a lot has changed here. I wrote an essay about grief being like an earthquake. Everything in my life is different. I'm starting all over, a different person.

We got the kids a new dog, her name is Bambi and she's the sweetest thing that ever lived. Her name, first and last combined, make her sound a bit like a streetwalker. She comes from VA and is the 5 month old illegitimate daughter of a couple of hunting hounds. I love her.