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Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
DIANA HART SMITH'S NEW BOOK!
I am working very hard to get my new book ready for the WrestleMania weekend in Miami! I am doing autograph sessions with my son Harry aka Brakuss aka DH Smith at WrestleLegends in Miami on Sunday, and my own autograph session Sat night, while Brakuss is wrestling. It will be so much fun to see some people who I haven't seen since last year, and get caught up with them. It is going to be pandamonium, because the Rock is main event on the WWE card and Miami is his home town. The whole city will be behind him. His mom and dad must be very proud.
I am working on getting my public facebook page working better, so I can use it to communicate with people like I want to. I didn't know I had a public page, but I have for a while. My daughter helped get that set up but I didn't know until she showed me tonight how to access it. She thought I knew, silly her, and definitely silly me. I really have to get the hang of the internet and how wonderful it is.
Brakuss is in Edmonton this week, and soon will be training with Billy Robinson for more MMA training. He is getting ready "to be seen" at the UFC PPV in Calgary July 17. In early July he will resume training with Josh Barnett and Jerome LeBanner in LA, and up to Calgary shortly after that.
I am working on getting my public facebook page working better, so I can use it to communicate with people like I want to. I didn't know I had a public page, but I have for a while. My daughter helped get that set up but I didn't know until she showed me tonight how to access it. She thought I knew, silly her, and definitely silly me. I really have to get the hang of the internet and how wonderful it is.
Brakuss is in Edmonton this week, and soon will be training with Billy Robinson for more MMA training. He is getting ready "to be seen" at the UFC PPV in Calgary July 17. In early July he will resume training with Josh Barnett and Jerome LeBanner in LA, and up to Calgary shortly after that.
Friday, March 16, 2012
It was three years ago today that we lost our little dog Buttercup. She was actually my daughter Georgia's little pom, and she was like a daughter to her. She was like Georgia--sweet, adorable, beautiful, fearless, selective, funny, compassionate, loyal; she was one of a kind. She was like a real-life teddy bear. It was heart-breaking to lose her, especially for Georgia, because Buttercup real...ly was like her daughter. Georgia and Harry made me proud with how much they loved that adorable little dog. I miss her and my heart still aches for her. I know Georgia's and Harry's hearts will always miss her too. I wish my mom and dad could have met her, and Davey too, but they are all together, watching over things. I hope Buttercup can look after Georgia and Harry from where she is. She was extremely thoughtful about them, so she must have a beautiful plan waiting to unfold for them. She was very powerful, despite being so cute and small. Here's to you, Buttercup! We miss you.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Rest in peace, Daisy.
I have a job I am lucky to have in the present anemic economy here in Tampa Florida. I had only been at work about an hour, and was late starting this morning, so the work day was already over an hour shorter. It should not have seemed like a twenty hour work day, but it did.
I have been trying to get ready for Al Rosen's Tri-Fitness 3-Day Competition in May. My daughter Georgia started first and asked if I wanted to train with her. Thinking it would just be more of what I already love doing, which is physical excercising and new challenges, I gladly accepted the offer. Sometime back in December, I was using this same philosophy in preparing my body for my return to Calgary in 2012 by learning all I could about TRX Training, in hopes of teaching it up in Calgary where I plan to move back to. Something I did to my left knee has been aggrivating me since I started the TRX, but I am not sure if it was TRX, because I am in agreement with the suspension training; it was not something I just couldn't get the hang of. Whatever it was that I did to my knee has only gotten more annoying to me, and seems to be encouraging my left ankle and left hip to join in.
Caving in finally to seeing the good chiropractor Dr. Doug Price and Massage Therapist John Moran, who both worked on my father, and many times worked on Davey, bringing him from agony to smiles because he felt so much better after their work on him, I got the skinny on what is bothering my knee. Dr. Price called it Tailors Knee, like a tailor who crosses his one ankle over the opposite knee so he can stitch and sew, and said my sartorius muscle is perhaps torn, but to take it easy and they will get me on track before Wrestlemania, and well, before Calgary, which is going to be farther away from my grasp than ever, but it will happen.
Feeling quite relieved, and much better after the second day of their treatments, I headed back to work. I took a wrong turn and had to back track around several one way streets to get onto the Rome Road I was looking for. On my way, I saw this emaciated white dog--the skinniest dog I had ever seen. I slowed right down and wished, "Oh, if only I had some food for it! I wonder if it is old or just that starved?" I remembered the many cans of cat food I keep in the back of my Honda for the wonderful family of feral cats I have come to know (and fix/spay nine of the fourteen I am friends with). I got them fixed through this real animal hospital, where they look after an animal whether it can be paid for or not, which is how I got the feral cats fixed. They had a special the month I caught nine of them and it cost $35 per cat, including a rabies shot and deworming.
I drove back to where I saw the poor, nearly dead dog walking. She was sort of wandering into someone's back yard, I suspect to find water or a bit of food. I ran to her and opened the cat food can up for her and banged it out of the can onto the cement. The dog had a dreadfully large abscess or tumor on her jaw, and the abscess was covered in greedy horrid flies that wouldn't even leave the infection even after I tried to shoe them away. I thought, "What bastards!" about the big fat ugly flies. The dog had been scrapes all over, like road rash, and fleas covering her ears so they actually looked black from a distance, but it was just the rotten fleas, sucking out her blood.
This poor thing ate the food, with some trouble because of the big abscess on her chin. She was so skinny--I don't think her waist/stomach was bigger than my ankle, and you could see she was skin and bones. Her tail had no fur left on it. I was disgusted at the flies feeding off her infection, and brought to tears by her eyes. They were so sunken in, but they still had life in them. I see people all the time with cold shark eyes, staring at me because I asked them for their email address at work, or if they ever have heard of my son or family's wrestling heritage. Some people are such jerks,
Anyway, I opened the back seat of my Honda and ran back to this dog, who let me pick her frail body up and I put her in the back seat. She sat down on all four legs, like she remembered having car rides in better times I hope she really did know. She let me drive her to the Animal Coalition of Tampa, which is the place where I had the nine feral cats fixed. I brought her in and some of the other pet owners waiting for their animals covered their mouths and noses, out of shock and from the u\putrid smell from her abscess. I just held the little dog, and asked if someone could just take a look at her to see if she would make it. Maybe it was just a really bad boil on her chin, and maybe with some miracle she would pull through.
It is of no comfort to hear that the staff declared this poor dog, who we named Daisy, one of the worst, if not the worst case of starvation and living dead that they had seen. They couldn't even find a vein in her leg to draw blood because she was so anemic from the parasites sucking all the life out of her. One nurse finally shaved her neck and found a little vein, she called it an old lady's vein, because it was so small and feeble, and drew blood. Daisy flinched a bit with this needle, and that gave me some hope that she has some life left in her.
I started to cry because I was so heartbroken that the world had turned its back on this poor dog, and not just for a day, but for months, because she didn't get to be so ravaged and sick overnight. What do people think when the see a poor lost dog? Are they more concerned that it might deficate on their grass or hang around for food? I can see concerns that a dog might bite or be unpredictable, but this poor thing had nothing left, yet she must have walked and walked on her last legs for a few days anyway. Why didn't anyone stop to help her? I just can't believe it! I stopped right away, not because I was trying to get good karma or a pat on the back. I just could not leave her. I thought about when my bulldog Merri-legs got lost, and I worried for two weeks about her, and prayed that if someone could just find her and take care of her, that would be so much better than her running scared, maybe getting hit by a car, or attacked by other dogs, or tormented by kids who are little asses and think it is neat to torture a dog or a cat or a squirrel, whatever. Those kinds of bastards exist, and it worried me that Merry might be lost in some kind of horrible world like that. By some miracle, Merry came home. She barked at the doorstep about 4:30 in the morning and I woke up instantly, thinking I was dreaming. I ran to the door and there she was, a little dirty, a lot lighter in weight, but so happy to be home. I was so grateful for her return, and so were Harry and Georgia. It was a miracle, to us, and since Merry was Davey's bulldog, we took it as a sign from him that he was around, and Merry coming home was his way of showing us.
That had a happy ending.
Poor Daisy, well, she was not alone, and she had water and food, and she knew, even for the few hours we were allowed the honour of knowing such a sweet dog who didn't just give up, but gave it all she could right up to the end, that she was loved by all of us who looked after her for those few hours.
I am so disappointed in mankind and I am ashamed of myself for not speaking up more to bastards who hurt animals and babies. I think they are horrible people, and what negligence that occurred to that poor Daisy just makes me sick to my stomach. It breaks my heart. It really does.
Maybe Daisy was looking for a place to die when I found her. She is out of misery from the awful life inflicted upon her by apathetic, selfish, self-absorbed, cold mammels know as humans. There are some good ones left, like the ones at the hospital where they put her to sleep and she was delivered to heaven.
Had I not had this little injury to my knee, I never would have found Daisy. All month I have been complaining and moaning and whining about my knee, and little did I know that it was going to take me to Daisy. I realise again, not to question God's plans for me. I still seem too, as I wonder how it could have happened, this horrible life for Daisy, but she is just fine now. I am grateful that I met Daisy at all. For the short time we knew each other, I fell in love with her and as really far gone as she was, I somehow thought she would just pull through. I had faith, that if she did not make it, she would go to heaven. I believed in heaven, once again, just like I did when my nephew Matt suffered for two weeks and then died in front of his mom Georgia, his dad BJ, my brother Ross, my son Harry, and me too. I knew Matt was on his way to heaven. I didn't question it at all. Matt wouldn't suffer anymore, and God took him away to heaven, where I believe there is no suffering. I just have to believe that is what heaven is. So, knowing this, I should feel so much better, and my faith in God is still strong. My faith in the people is rather weak right now, and that breaks my heart. It really does. The whole world seems so out of sorts right now. I am grateful, very grateful, to all of you who read my blogs, because you are who I cry to, even if you can't see me. I am bawling my eyes out right now, and I wish I had Davey to tell me something to make me feel better. I'm not living in denial about Davey, I know he is gone, but I still miss him and need him as much as ever. I still don't know what I'm going to do without him.
But to get back to Daisy, the subject of this blog...
When I got back to work, there were several customers needing attention and I just put Daisy in a corner of my mind for a bit, but she really was all I could think about. One customer, a lady with a face like a horse, and a fat ugly husband who didn't have the sense to move out of the way when I was carrying a 75lb bolt of fabric. He wouldn't know I have a sore knee, but I thought he might move his fat flesh five feet in one direction or the other. I am only being so cruel and harsh about this couple because as we were chatting, my sister, myself and our boss to this over-done plastic creature who couldn't stop talking about their condo and their beach house and blah blah blah. I didn't judge, I promise you, I did not judge them until she declared with delight how she bought her new house with a yard, and got her Persian cats declawed so they can go out and play in her yard, unlike the condo where they couldn't go outside.
I felt like screaming at her, "Here, let me rip off your fingernails, and don't worry, after the excrutiating pain goes away, your fingernails will never ever grow back. So don't go slamming your ugly fingers in a door after your fingernails are ripped off. Oh, yes, and while we are at it, let's rip off your toe nails too, because they might damage the furniture!" Maybe a big 10 foot cat could tell her that, as the big cat is her master and he calls the shots now. Maybe we'll take away her awful voice too, so she can't brag about how she doesn't have to pay flood insurance now because fat hubby was smart and bought in a higher elevation.
My face went from listening politely to a complete stone face, and the look I gave her I hope haunts her. What a stupid selfish person--to declaw her cats at all, but to declaw them SO they can go outside?! What a stupid woman. She maybe can get a dreadful case of plutonium poisoning or botulism from her botox and live suffering with her fat husband who obviously didn't care that the cats had their defenses stripped from them.
I really am disgusted with people these days. I am so glad I was raised in a family where not one of us would have ever ever ever walked by a dog like that and not tried to save her. My brother Smith would have carried her in his arms for miles if it meant trying to give the sweet old dog some dignity and strength. All of us in my family, including our own kids now, learned this from my mom and dad, who took in so many, animals and people, and gave them some hope, real hope, and strength to exist and carry on.
I know Daisy is in heaven; I just know it. I don't know what heaven is, but I believe there is a beautiful eternal place for an animal like Daisy. She will be in good company, forever.
Pasted from Georgia Smith's facebook. I hope you can see the picture of Daisy. It doesn't show the injustice, but you can see she was a lovely sweet girl:
I have been trying to get ready for Al Rosen's Tri-Fitness 3-Day Competition in May. My daughter Georgia started first and asked if I wanted to train with her. Thinking it would just be more of what I already love doing, which is physical excercising and new challenges, I gladly accepted the offer. Sometime back in December, I was using this same philosophy in preparing my body for my return to Calgary in 2012 by learning all I could about TRX Training, in hopes of teaching it up in Calgary where I plan to move back to. Something I did to my left knee has been aggrivating me since I started the TRX, but I am not sure if it was TRX, because I am in agreement with the suspension training; it was not something I just couldn't get the hang of. Whatever it was that I did to my knee has only gotten more annoying to me, and seems to be encouraging my left ankle and left hip to join in.
Caving in finally to seeing the good chiropractor Dr. Doug Price and Massage Therapist John Moran, who both worked on my father, and many times worked on Davey, bringing him from agony to smiles because he felt so much better after their work on him, I got the skinny on what is bothering my knee. Dr. Price called it Tailors Knee, like a tailor who crosses his one ankle over the opposite knee so he can stitch and sew, and said my sartorius muscle is perhaps torn, but to take it easy and they will get me on track before Wrestlemania, and well, before Calgary, which is going to be farther away from my grasp than ever, but it will happen.
Feeling quite relieved, and much better after the second day of their treatments, I headed back to work. I took a wrong turn and had to back track around several one way streets to get onto the Rome Road I was looking for. On my way, I saw this emaciated white dog--the skinniest dog I had ever seen. I slowed right down and wished, "Oh, if only I had some food for it! I wonder if it is old or just that starved?" I remembered the many cans of cat food I keep in the back of my Honda for the wonderful family of feral cats I have come to know (and fix/spay nine of the fourteen I am friends with). I got them fixed through this real animal hospital, where they look after an animal whether it can be paid for or not, which is how I got the feral cats fixed. They had a special the month I caught nine of them and it cost $35 per cat, including a rabies shot and deworming.
I drove back to where I saw the poor, nearly dead dog walking. She was sort of wandering into someone's back yard, I suspect to find water or a bit of food. I ran to her and opened the cat food can up for her and banged it out of the can onto the cement. The dog had a dreadfully large abscess or tumor on her jaw, and the abscess was covered in greedy horrid flies that wouldn't even leave the infection even after I tried to shoe them away. I thought, "What bastards!" about the big fat ugly flies. The dog had been scrapes all over, like road rash, and fleas covering her ears so they actually looked black from a distance, but it was just the rotten fleas, sucking out her blood.
This poor thing ate the food, with some trouble because of the big abscess on her chin. She was so skinny--I don't think her waist/stomach was bigger than my ankle, and you could see she was skin and bones. Her tail had no fur left on it. I was disgusted at the flies feeding off her infection, and brought to tears by her eyes. They were so sunken in, but they still had life in them. I see people all the time with cold shark eyes, staring at me because I asked them for their email address at work, or if they ever have heard of my son or family's wrestling heritage. Some people are such jerks,
Anyway, I opened the back seat of my Honda and ran back to this dog, who let me pick her frail body up and I put her in the back seat. She sat down on all four legs, like she remembered having car rides in better times I hope she really did know. She let me drive her to the Animal Coalition of Tampa, which is the place where I had the nine feral cats fixed. I brought her in and some of the other pet owners waiting for their animals covered their mouths and noses, out of shock and from the u\putrid smell from her abscess. I just held the little dog, and asked if someone could just take a look at her to see if she would make it. Maybe it was just a really bad boil on her chin, and maybe with some miracle she would pull through.
It is of no comfort to hear that the staff declared this poor dog, who we named Daisy, one of the worst, if not the worst case of starvation and living dead that they had seen. They couldn't even find a vein in her leg to draw blood because she was so anemic from the parasites sucking all the life out of her. One nurse finally shaved her neck and found a little vein, she called it an old lady's vein, because it was so small and feeble, and drew blood. Daisy flinched a bit with this needle, and that gave me some hope that she has some life left in her.
I started to cry because I was so heartbroken that the world had turned its back on this poor dog, and not just for a day, but for months, because she didn't get to be so ravaged and sick overnight. What do people think when the see a poor lost dog? Are they more concerned that it might deficate on their grass or hang around for food? I can see concerns that a dog might bite or be unpredictable, but this poor thing had nothing left, yet she must have walked and walked on her last legs for a few days anyway. Why didn't anyone stop to help her? I just can't believe it! I stopped right away, not because I was trying to get good karma or a pat on the back. I just could not leave her. I thought about when my bulldog Merri-legs got lost, and I worried for two weeks about her, and prayed that if someone could just find her and take care of her, that would be so much better than her running scared, maybe getting hit by a car, or attacked by other dogs, or tormented by kids who are little asses and think it is neat to torture a dog or a cat or a squirrel, whatever. Those kinds of bastards exist, and it worried me that Merry might be lost in some kind of horrible world like that. By some miracle, Merry came home. She barked at the doorstep about 4:30 in the morning and I woke up instantly, thinking I was dreaming. I ran to the door and there she was, a little dirty, a lot lighter in weight, but so happy to be home. I was so grateful for her return, and so were Harry and Georgia. It was a miracle, to us, and since Merry was Davey's bulldog, we took it as a sign from him that he was around, and Merry coming home was his way of showing us.
That had a happy ending.
Poor Daisy, well, she was not alone, and she had water and food, and she knew, even for the few hours we were allowed the honour of knowing such a sweet dog who didn't just give up, but gave it all she could right up to the end, that she was loved by all of us who looked after her for those few hours.
I am so disappointed in mankind and I am ashamed of myself for not speaking up more to bastards who hurt animals and babies. I think they are horrible people, and what negligence that occurred to that poor Daisy just makes me sick to my stomach. It breaks my heart. It really does.
Maybe Daisy was looking for a place to die when I found her. She is out of misery from the awful life inflicted upon her by apathetic, selfish, self-absorbed, cold mammels know as humans. There are some good ones left, like the ones at the hospital where they put her to sleep and she was delivered to heaven.
Had I not had this little injury to my knee, I never would have found Daisy. All month I have been complaining and moaning and whining about my knee, and little did I know that it was going to take me to Daisy. I realise again, not to question God's plans for me. I still seem too, as I wonder how it could have happened, this horrible life for Daisy, but she is just fine now. I am grateful that I met Daisy at all. For the short time we knew each other, I fell in love with her and as really far gone as she was, I somehow thought she would just pull through. I had faith, that if she did not make it, she would go to heaven. I believed in heaven, once again, just like I did when my nephew Matt suffered for two weeks and then died in front of his mom Georgia, his dad BJ, my brother Ross, my son Harry, and me too. I knew Matt was on his way to heaven. I didn't question it at all. Matt wouldn't suffer anymore, and God took him away to heaven, where I believe there is no suffering. I just have to believe that is what heaven is. So, knowing this, I should feel so much better, and my faith in God is still strong. My faith in the people is rather weak right now, and that breaks my heart. It really does. The whole world seems so out of sorts right now. I am grateful, very grateful, to all of you who read my blogs, because you are who I cry to, even if you can't see me. I am bawling my eyes out right now, and I wish I had Davey to tell me something to make me feel better. I'm not living in denial about Davey, I know he is gone, but I still miss him and need him as much as ever. I still don't know what I'm going to do without him.
But to get back to Daisy, the subject of this blog...
When I got back to work, there were several customers needing attention and I just put Daisy in a corner of my mind for a bit, but she really was all I could think about. One customer, a lady with a face like a horse, and a fat ugly husband who didn't have the sense to move out of the way when I was carrying a 75lb bolt of fabric. He wouldn't know I have a sore knee, but I thought he might move his fat flesh five feet in one direction or the other. I am only being so cruel and harsh about this couple because as we were chatting, my sister, myself and our boss to this over-done plastic creature who couldn't stop talking about their condo and their beach house and blah blah blah. I didn't judge, I promise you, I did not judge them until she declared with delight how she bought her new house with a yard, and got her Persian cats declawed so they can go out and play in her yard, unlike the condo where they couldn't go outside.
I felt like screaming at her, "Here, let me rip off your fingernails, and don't worry, after the excrutiating pain goes away, your fingernails will never ever grow back. So don't go slamming your ugly fingers in a door after your fingernails are ripped off. Oh, yes, and while we are at it, let's rip off your toe nails too, because they might damage the furniture!" Maybe a big 10 foot cat could tell her that, as the big cat is her master and he calls the shots now. Maybe we'll take away her awful voice too, so she can't brag about how she doesn't have to pay flood insurance now because fat hubby was smart and bought in a higher elevation.
My face went from listening politely to a complete stone face, and the look I gave her I hope haunts her. What a stupid selfish person--to declaw her cats at all, but to declaw them SO they can go outside?! What a stupid woman. She maybe can get a dreadful case of plutonium poisoning or botulism from her botox and live suffering with her fat husband who obviously didn't care that the cats had their defenses stripped from them.
I really am disgusted with people these days. I am so glad I was raised in a family where not one of us would have ever ever ever walked by a dog like that and not tried to save her. My brother Smith would have carried her in his arms for miles if it meant trying to give the sweet old dog some dignity and strength. All of us in my family, including our own kids now, learned this from my mom and dad, who took in so many, animals and people, and gave them some hope, real hope, and strength to exist and carry on.
I know Daisy is in heaven; I just know it. I don't know what heaven is, but I believe there is a beautiful eternal place for an animal like Daisy. She will be in good company, forever.
Pasted from Georgia Smith's facebook. I hope you can see the picture of Daisy. It doesn't show the injustice, but you can see she was a lovely sweet girl:
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Diana Hart Smith's New Book
I am putting the finishing touches on the first edition of my new book! It has been put together, with great encouragement from Harry (Brakuss) Smith and Georgia Smith, who are Davey's and my children. I will be editing again and putting together the artwork, which I am hoping Brakuss will do for the cover. If any of you ever saw Harry's cartoon drawings that WWE sold at auctions at their fanfests over the past WrestleMania weekends, then you might know how exceptional and unusual his eye for art is. His drawing remind me a lot of my brother Bret's (Hitman) artwork.
I will be selling the book at the huge autograph session I am doing in Miami with Harry (Brakuss) during the Mania Weekend, although this autograph session is completely independent from WWE and it's events that weekend. Brakuss and I will also be selling never-seen-before t-shirts of Brakuss and Davey, courtesy of the artwork of Walt Disney World artist Michael Locoduck.
Brakuss and Georgia have given my new book their blessing and that is the very best endorsement I could ever ask for! They encouraged me to finish this book this year, as it is 2012 (November 27th) is the year Davey Boy (British Bulldog) would have turned fifty years old. This book is very different than what I ever was associated with in the past, and since I have written this, starting from hundreds of handwritten pages to the first edition released at the Miami Mania Weekend, I can say that I think the anxiety I have at the moment is a YIPPEE, Hooray, YES! kind of feeling, and NOT an astounding YIKES feeling. I am really proud of this. I think Davey would be too. After the Wrestlemania weekend, I will be selling my book on my webpage (HartLegacy.com) and on the internet. I will release the title of the book as Mania approaches. I agreed not to sell it online until after the big autograph session, which I am doing with Harry in Miami, which I mentioned before. It will be terrific to be having my son with me to share my excitement and success of my book. I hope you will be a part of its success. I cannot do it without any of you. My family would not have made it through so much had it not been for the support of the affectionate and loving wrestling fans. Thanks for reading my blogs and facebook, twitter, HealthyHarts.com, HartLegacy.com and all of Harry's webpages and facebook pages. If anyone is interested in requesting Joanna Smith, (Harry's pet bulldog) as a friend, she is quite happy to accept and she loves to be part of groups of things. She has a lot of friends in Germany and England, but certainly would like to have friends all over the world.
Okay, that's all for the moment.
Diana
I will be selling the book at the huge autograph session I am doing in Miami with Harry (Brakuss) during the Mania Weekend, although this autograph session is completely independent from WWE and it's events that weekend. Brakuss and I will also be selling never-seen-before t-shirts of Brakuss and Davey, courtesy of the artwork of Walt Disney World artist Michael Locoduck.
Brakuss and Georgia have given my new book their blessing and that is the very best endorsement I could ever ask for! They encouraged me to finish this book this year, as it is 2012 (November 27th) is the year Davey Boy (British Bulldog) would have turned fifty years old. This book is very different than what I ever was associated with in the past, and since I have written this, starting from hundreds of handwritten pages to the first edition released at the Miami Mania Weekend, I can say that I think the anxiety I have at the moment is a YIPPEE, Hooray, YES! kind of feeling, and NOT an astounding YIKES feeling. I am really proud of this. I think Davey would be too. After the Wrestlemania weekend, I will be selling my book on my webpage (HartLegacy.com) and on the internet. I will release the title of the book as Mania approaches. I agreed not to sell it online until after the big autograph session, which I am doing with Harry in Miami, which I mentioned before. It will be terrific to be having my son with me to share my excitement and success of my book. I hope you will be a part of its success. I cannot do it without any of you. My family would not have made it through so much had it not been for the support of the affectionate and loving wrestling fans. Thanks for reading my blogs and facebook, twitter, HealthyHarts.com, HartLegacy.com and all of Harry's webpages and facebook pages. If anyone is interested in requesting Joanna Smith, (Harry's pet bulldog) as a friend, she is quite happy to accept and she loves to be part of groups of things. She has a lot of friends in Germany and England, but certainly would like to have friends all over the world.
Okay, that's all for the moment.
Diana
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