Hmmm. The last time I wrote was almost a week ago.

Have things changed?

Nope. I am still falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning with one of the teevee cable news networks droning on and on in the background.

I hear war news coverage in my sleep. And yes, I dream about the war. Or guns. Or shooting.

I awake before dawn. It is there. More news coverage.

Somehow I have begun to feel that if I watch ... if I do not miss a moment ... well, then I am somehow supporting the men and women who are dedicated to their cause in the Iraqi deserts, mountains and river plain.

When there is a lull in the coverage ... when the stories keep repeating themselves, I turn to the internet and read the various online foreign sources for news ... their news ... as if they will tell me something I have not heard on U.S. cable teevee.

Is it affecting my life? Of course.

I would be full of bunk if I told you that all this does not bother me. There are the heart touching stories that elicit tears to course down my cheeks. There are the stories of cruelty that brings my temper to a fevered pitch.

Yes, it is definitely affecting me.

Can you imagine the affect on those actually in the Iraqi or Afganistan war theatres?

After Vietnam and the atrocities those men and women witnessed ... a whole generation of soldiers returned to their homes war shocked, depressed, and emotionally strained beyond comprehension.

I feel that we have not yet seen the worst of it in Iraq. I have this foreboding sense of dread. It revolves around chemical weapons and a dictator who will stop at nothing. I fear there will be atrocities that we, even in our most vile of Hollywood imaginations, cannot put into words.

And then ... once their mission is accomplished, our soldiers will come home.

We have to be there for them. We have to let them know we watched. Through embedded reporters and technology, we watched.

We cannot claim that we did not know. We cannot spit on their service and dedication.

This time ... this war ... we must open our arms in a universal collective hug with reassurance, compassion, and healing.

Why? Because we watched ... and yes, we know.

I have spent an inordinate amount of hours watching "war coverage" on MSNBC, CNN, and FoxNEWS.

I am exhausted from tensing up my muscles when the air raid sirens begin sounding. My breathing becomes quicker when I witness fire fights and tanks firing into buildings.

I sit up, take notice ... and watch as triple-a (anti-aircraft-artillery) is leveled into the dark skies over Baghdad.

I watch in dread but with a sense of expectation.

Shock and awe.

What other reaction is there?

My immediate reaction when I saw the explosions in Baghdad?

To whisper a soft prayer to any God that will listen: Protect the innocent. Eradicate the guilty. Do all things honoring humanity.

I am here, safe in my home in the Arizona desert, and I cannot help but hold close in my thoughts the families of all soldiers ... families who are spending an inordinate amount of time watching "war coverage".

So, now ... today ... I whisper to any God that will listen a prayer for the families: Ease their tense muscles, calm their breathing, give them the gentle balm of support. Be with them during this most difficult of times.

Last night President Bush challenged Saddam Hussein. He gave Saddam a 48 hour deadline.

How I feel about the pending Gulf War is, at this point, inconsequential.

However, the USA is now fully committed. Regardless what happens, our military troops will be going into Iraq and "disarming Saddam".

Hundreds of thousands of our military personnel are being put in harm's way.

I fear for them. I pray for them.

I support them.

In this household, we were wondering what we can do here ... two ladies in a house in Phoenix, AZ ... to help show our military that we ... Mom and I ... support them.

Today I put into action an offer (via a telephone call to the Staff Sargent in charge of Family Support at Luke AFB) ... to any military personnel called away from their metro Phoenix home to serve in active duty.

We are opening our home as foster pet parents. We will care for and love the pets that are displaced because their "mommie" or "daddie" is called away to serve in the war.

We are pledging our support by offering a service of love.

No, how I feel about the pending war is really no longer an issue.

But what I do about it ... how I can use this time to serve the greater good ... well, it allows me to feel a little less inconsequential.

I am seeing double. My fingers hurt. I am mentally exhausted.

I am a woosie.

I have just spent the last 3-4 days converting this entire site (sans linkware) to CSS from standard HTML font tags.

It probably would have been less work to redesign the entire site!

And speaking of redesigns, I have been getting that "redesign urge". But thankfully, common sense takes hold, and I back away from the computer.

You see ... I realize that this site holds no interest for anyone who has been here before ... and many of my journal readers may be growing weary of the monotone brown to beige appearance. However, due to the nature of my email ... the site is still fresh to over 95% of my site visitors and therefore ...

... *mumbling to herself* ...

Why redesign?

Perhaps someday. Soon.

I also converted DesignAspirations.com to CSS.

Meanwhile ... and I have R.I.G.H.T.S. yet to do.

Um, wait. Naaaw, I think I'll take a nap.