My house mates...

Well, sort of....One fondly signs all correspondence to me as - YOOS (your other older sis) and the other barks. My home life wouldn't be the same without them. While one whines to come in and lay on the sofa; the other drinks my beer - it depends on the day as to which is which.

A story exists within the life of my YOOS; tidbits of which have unraveled before my eyes. It's really not my story to tell though. However, it lays out there, big, juicy and ripe for the taking. The lives of women, the hardships of women, the survival of women - laughing together, loving together, coping with grief and pain together.

The story of an 84 year old blind woman named Lillian and Linda, the daughter who loves her, my YOOS. I am privileged to glance in on them occasionally, like the little robin sitting at the window briefly taking in the scene within. Listening to the joyful noise of women talking and giggling about nothing, yet saying everything. The kind of spirit, dignity, love and devotion it's a pleasure to witness.

Linda at my kitchen table - she doesn't really
live here (and rarely barks).
She just "hides" here once in awhile.

Dusty - the one who barks.