For the first time I met my cousins and Myra's husband Roland. They had three children, Benjerman, who was my age sixteen, Sonja who was six, and Rola...nd Jr. who was five months. We had a wonderful meal and chatted late into the night. Myra heard the baby fuss and left to attend him. I was so tired I excused my self and headed to bed. I just got under the covers and started to read when Myra came into the room with the baby. She said she was nursing him but would still love to chat. She sat on. Trying not to make a face – or worse, burst into unhappy tears in front of the Queen – she suffered through the fittings, the gossip and the chattering. Heart heavy, she wandered around one of the rooms as everything bustled about her, eventually sitting at one of the window seats and resting her head on the sill of the open window. Below her was a rosebush, and apparently underneath there was a bench, she could just barely see two heads of hair – one brown and one blonde – and make out two. " JOHNNY, WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE! How many times have I told you not to talk like that?" Ah, gee, Mom, I don't know. It just slipped out, maybe because I am so sleepy." OK, Johnny, maybe you should go back to bed after you eat. How do you feel? You aren't sick, are you?" Maybe, Johnny did some exercise yesterday that he's not used to. I did hear him banging around during the night before you guys got home." Amy winked at me after she checked to be sure that Mom couldn't see her do it.I stuck out. She was the extreme opposite of what I had ever known, and finally my own patience was about to pay off. The years I had spent visualizing, manifesting, honing my skills and sculpting my frame, were about to offer a ripe harvest. She was all-in when it came to matters of matching my own acute desires and needs. Not only that, but she could write with the best of them, and she was creative in other matters. She also shared many of the same appreciations for the senses, including but not limited.