I was thinking of all my compadres at Spumoni South as the boys and I went on another of our adventures. Due to the sub-zero weather (I believe some sort of side effect of global warming), our adventure had to be indoors. I had planned to take them to this place where they manufacture snow and then make a large hill so you can sled, but the weather was even too cold for the little maniacs.

It has been my goal not to miss a single Children's Museum in the Metropolitan NYC area. I had pretty much hit them all except, THE STATEN ISLAND CHILDREN's MUSEUM. So I loaded up the boys and off we went. This journey brought back a virtual kaleidescope of Staten Island memories. As we passed a house that appeared to be built on the road (I guess set backs are not part of Staten Island zoning), I remembered Joe's adventure with his car and a house that just wasn't where it was suppose to be causing Joe to hit it. I remembered the great bridal shower that Aunt Marie had for me. I remembered Jeanine breaking the cinder block with her foot.

As I approached the museum, I got this strange sense of deja vu. It looked sorta like the place where we all went on the outing to that historic village, but I'm pretty certain I was in a different historic setting on Staten Island. I recalled that on that trip MariaRose had ran up to Marlena and punched her in the back and then proclaimed, "It was an accident."

I also vividly recall the developmentally and/or physically disabled woman at the historic village that made me realize for the first time what a fast track to hell Joe and Steve were on. This memory came back because in the Arts and Crafts room of the SI Children's Museum, the volunteer helping had Down's Syndrome. (Which did cause me to pause and ponder for a moment if there something Love Canal like on Staten Island causing genetic anomallies-come to think of it there was an entire school group of developmentally disabled kids there). I will say I was very proud of the boys. They did not miss a beat. Did not ask why the lady looked different or anything. Just struck up a conversation about collage techniques. Some other little girl came in and was terrified and asking her mom what was wrong with the lady.

Upon returning home the phone rang and it was John's mom. She sounded great. It doesn't appear that there has been any permanent damage from the stroke. I told her that I thought she was very lucky to have escaped without any impairment. I told her that she had been given a second chance and if I was her I would go to Bermuda or something. I also added that I doubt God had left her on the planet so she could return to her toils at Gannin tire. She believed otherwise, as she planned on returning because she had about year more to do. Every one views things in different ways I suppose.