And another day comes and goes.......

Good evening to everyone. It's been a long time I know but I've decided to resume posting to this blog. I've taken quite a long time away and have been putting that time to good use. I hope you all will begin once again reading this blog. Now on to the title of this post....
Today I, once again, had a birthday. My birthday's come as quite a surprise to me anymore. I told my shrink not long ago that I never really expected to live this long, and it's the truth. Now simply having a birthday surprises me more than ever. I was told by my shrink that this feeling us very usual and normal for someone like me. (I won't go into what the "like me" means) ( :-D )
I will however, for anyone that is curious, expound on it in a private email if you like. Anyway, another birthday comes..................and goes..............and life goes on. I have to say before I come to the conclusion however, that life is better now than ever before in OH so many ways. Spiritually, physically, mentally and emotionally. A quick note, I expect to live till I'm 101 years old, which means that I have only 42 more years to live. I have a lot to pack into that small amount of time, huh? ( OK, you can do the math now) ( :-D ) .....and so it goes.......

Observations (3): Fiddlers and re-numeration

Good evening everyone. Welcome once again. I'm very glad that you're here and believe that you'll benefit from this chapter. You may even enjoy it. Well....some of you will, others will not. At any rate, I'm happy to see you here and reading. I'm providing finger foods and light refreshments tonight, so serve yourselves and find a seat.
I'm guessing that at least some of you are wondering about the odd title for to nights chapter. I'm even betting that my daughters know before reading any further. It's from an old adage that goes like this: "If you dance to the music, the fiddler has to be paid". Some I'm sure have heard that but some I'm sure haven't. It simply means that if you make decisions, either good or bad, (and we all do constantly) we have to live with the outcome of them. Sometimes the outcome comes in the form of consequences and other times it comes in the shape of reward. Sometime the result of a decision is somewhat gray in color and sometime it's very black and white. A couple of examples are: A young lady is either pregnant or she's not, very black and white, while in the same vein, one can question whether one's marriage was the best decision, something that can be black and white but can also be somewhat in the gray area. It's been my experience that if I make a bad decision and am able to hide the result I still have to live with that decision. It's in mind and heart always. This author has made His share of decisions, both good and bad, and has always tried to face the result, whatever that might be, with courage. I suggest that is a good course of action for us all, but first of all, I suggest that we, everyone, think carefully through each and every decision and choice before we make it, as best we can. Second, take responsibility for the choices. Don't try to shift the blame, if indeed, there is blame to bear. If we successfully shift any blame to someone or something else it only makes it more probable that we're going to make the same decision or choice all over again. Usually with the same result. Facing up to the responsibility makes it easier to make a better choice next time. Third, any decision we make we have to live with, but others often have to live with our choices, as we have to live with other's decisions. OK, enough. Just bear in mind that we you or I dance to the music the fiddler, indeed, ALWAYS has to be paid. A parting suggestion? Think, feel and pray, about every choice and decision of any magnitude.
...........And so it goes...........

A special day.......

Good morning! I'm very happy to have you, once again, reading this chapter of this blog. I hope you're having the best day possible and that you're recognizing God's blessing in your life this day. You know that their are many blessings, right? OK, OK. Just a reminder. ( :-D ) On to the title of today.
This is indeed a special day for me. If you look back to the chapter this time a year ago you'll see essentially the same words. Today, if He were still alive, Dennis would be having a birthday. Dennis, for those of you that don't know or don't remember, is the brother that passed away in the year nineteen sixty three. After all of this time, however, I still remember with a great deal of fondness His life of seventeen years. The mischievousness of his personality. The twinkle of His eyes when He was up to something. The work ethic that He'd developed in such a short life span. I've said many times, that if Dennis weren't into some mischief He was looking for it to get into. What a loving and protective brother He was! Even after all of these years I remember Him with such clarity. The smile, the laugh and the body language that was His. Dennis was the healthiest guy I knew, which is the reason for the extreme shock at His death after such a short illness. He was only sick for about a month. Anyway, happy birthday Dennis! You are still missed and thought of very frequently! ..........And so it went..........

In Memoriam

Good evening once again all. I know it's been a little while since my last post and I, once again, apologize. I'm back now though. My left elbow, the one hurt in the auto accident, has been giving me some pain and it's a bit painful to type. As a matter of fact, it's sort of a white knuckle experience sometime. I'm told it's due to the inflammation. Oh well! Life goes on, right?
My chapter this evening is to pay tribute to someone very special that passed away a short time ago. She is my first cousin (is because her memory is now and will always be, alive). Her name is Gay Nell. Let me endeavour to tell you all a bit about Gay. She was 60 years old when she left this life, and what an extraordinary life it was! I was, just a couple of days ago, trying to remember a time in my entire life that Gay didn't have a smile. Not only a smile but words of hope and encouragement for all. Another thing that is remembered by everyone is her enduring faith in God. I'd like to know just how many lives she touched with that faith. The number would be very high! I suppose one of the best legacies she left was that when anyone speaks of her they always have a smile on their face with the memories they have. Gay, we all miss you being with us, but know that you are always in our hearts and thoughts. So now, I close this with a smile ..............And so it goes..........

Observations: 2) Dancing Porcupines

Good morning all. Yes, I hear the gasps of everyone as you realize that I've actually come back to the keyboard. I acknowledge that it has been a while...as so we'll go on from here, OK? It's a beautiful Sunday morning and I've just returned from the patio in my backyard where I enjoyed a rare cup of coffee while watching the sunrise and listening to my small part of the world come to life. What an exhilarating experience! I thought of many of you as a rooster began his day by calling to the world around him. As if on cue a couple of crows awoke and began cawing to each other as they flew off in search of some food. Begging mention are the insect world as they began talking and moving about. WOW!!! It was great. OK, OK. On to the curious title for this chapter.
In the short span of my life I've had the opportunity to "observe" some of it. In the last chapter I mentioned the 'camel' syndrome. Here today, it's about how we humans unknowingly take on a characteristic of the porcupine. It's about how, on a very cold night, a group of porcupines are together. As the night gets colder they begin to move closer to each other for warmth, but alas, as they get close they begin to stick and be stuck with their quills. As a consequence they deliberately move away and isolate themselves so the pain won't be there. At this point the 'pain' isn't there, but alas, once again they find themselves getting cold and alone so they once again move close to the other porcupines for warmth. Again, with the same result, so they once again withdraw to a more pain free environment. As this continues in the course of their night it begins to resemble a weird sort of dance where they're constantly in motion and getting no rest. It occurs to me at this juncture, that we humans are quite like that too. We get lonely so we move in for warmth and companionship, but as the "quills" of other people begin to stick us we withdraw to less painful place. Only to, once again, become isolated and alone, and only to once again, move toward others. It becomes, sadly enough, a lifelong 'dance' for some people because they never seem to figure out how to overcome this behavior. Now, before anyone asks, I don't have anyone specific in mind. Well, maybe a few names come to the fore, but I, of course, will not mention them. Allow me to say, however, that there is a better way to live. There is a way to live life not in the 'dance' mode. OK, enough on this posting but there will be more forthcoming. (and not so long this time). ........And so it goes........

Observations: 1) Loaded camels

Good evening! Welcome to this chapter of this blog. Please come right in and make yourself at home. I'm serving finger sandwiches and cookies along with some other light refreshments tonight. So, have a seat and make yourself comfortable while snacking and reading. I'm glad you're here.
I know you're all thinking at this juncture, 'what a funny title'. Well....I do admit that at first glance it is a funny title. However, I ask your indulgence until you finish reading. I'm betting at that point it will be a bit more clear.
This chapter isn't actually about camels, except metaphorically. I'm sure you've all heard the old expression "The straw that broke the camel's back", right? If not, a quick explanation is in order. For those that have heard it please bear with me for a moment. It's in reference to a camel whose back is loaded with straw. As it stands, straw is continually loaded on it's back, until the point that it's loaded with the maximum load it can stand. Then finally, someone puts one more small straw on the stack and it's the final weight that breaks the back of the camel. OK, end of explanation and on to the point. In retrospect of the life of the author of this blog and having watched for many years the lives and behaviors of other people I've come to the conclusion that many times we're all like that proverbial camel. Standing and walking through life, constantly having people and circumstances adding to the load that we consistently carry around. A point or two about that and a few suggestions about how to cope with it. Point one is....the adding of the straw to the back of the camel is done so slowly and gradually that the camel, in the short term, doesn't realize that the added weight (or stress) is there. It's not until much time as gone by that it can identify that something has indeed changed and the going is harder. Point two....since we're 'supposed' to carry the load and cope with life while carrying the load, we assume that it's 'normal' to be that burdened. Actually, it's not 'normal' to be constantly carrying that much stress around with us all the time. While we come to see ourselves as 'beasts of burden' with all the stress we're under, we can deal more effectively with it. There is, indeed, a better way to live. Point three....it can be very discouraging, while we stagger around under the load we carry, to see others look at us from time to time and then walk away. Whether they don't see or don't care, the result is the same. So, we continue walking around in our lives, struggling to maintain our walk and composure, and all the while being loaded with one more straw at a time. Suddenly we realize "hey, this is getting too heavy". However we continue walking and plodding along wondering when the final devastating straw will be added. A suggestion is in order here, don't you think? Suggestion one....Look to God and seek help from Him. He is the source that never fails us. Prayer! Suggestion two....Look around you as you walk, and find someone whose load is heavier than yours. Do this in order to offer encouragement and hope, and even offer to carry a bit of their load. I know it sounds weird but doing that will actually make your and their loads easier and lighter. So, my fellow camels, on a final note of encouragement from a camel who's back has been broken and been mended by the God of heaven, look up and take heart. You can do it! .........And so it goes.........

Revealing the Quest..........

Good morning all. Yes, you read that right. It is early morning and I'm up late. Well, later than usual. I have to get to bed very soon so I can go to Church this morning. OK, enough of the excuses, right? Pull up a chair and relax as you read this as I attempt to give the answer that I promised. I have to say here, that some came very close to the answer.
'The quest' in question in this blog is the search that we've all undertaken in order to find an answer. I know that in my life I've asked the "W" question many, many times. The "W" question being 'why'. I ask the question many times for every friend I lost in Vietnam. I ask the question many times when my wife began changing. I ask the question many times when I was told that I had cancer. I ask the question many times when I began recovering from a horrific car accident. Probably several thousand times over the course of time. In all of that time and after all of that asking I never got an answer to those questions. I have given that much thought and have come to some, what I believe, are right and healthy conclusions. Conclusion one: for us to know those answers would mean that we could know the future and that is not something that God has given us the ability to do. We can barely handle the past, what makes us think that we could handle the future. That would make us not need or want a relationship with God. Conclusion two: If we knew the answer to all of those "why's" we would have the wisdom of God, and again, not need or want a relationship with Him. Conclusion three: Knowing the answers would make us proud and haughty, and once again, we would try putting ourselves on the same level as God, thus not wanting or needing Him. Conclusion four: Knowing those answers would make us not seek the will of God in our lives and not search for the presence of God. Conclusion five: Knowing those answers would destroy our faith, simply because we wouldn't need it. We'd feel ourselves to be sufficient unto ourselves, right? Having realized these things I decided that we understand what we can, after that Faith takes over. We have to walk through life not knowing the answers but knowing that God does. That, beloved friends, is what I call "tough faith". Tough because we're scared. Tough because each step we take is uncertain. Tough because trusting is the hardest thing to do at that point. Tough sometime because our heart is anguished with pain and grief and loss. Tough sometime because we're squarely facing our own mortality and the reality of possible death. There are many reasons to ask why but only one basic reason to accept not having an answer. Because our God wills it so and we love and trust Him. OK, I'll conclude beloved friends, so you can comment by whatever means you chose. Please feel free to agree or disagree, in part or in whole, to whatever degree you that you do. Another chapter soon. .........And so it is...........

The Quest..............

Good evening and welcome. I am, once again, very glad to have you drop by. It's been a few days since posting my last chapter and I've been delighted with the response. Thank you all for faithfully checking back from time to time. I've opened the bar and have most anything you'd care to drink. I even brought some pretzels and nuts so serve yourself and be comfortable as you read.
Before I talk about the quest mentioned in the title I'll give somewhat of an explaination. The "quest" I'm talking about comes about in the life of every person that lives to some degree of maturity. It always comes in the form of a question. I know I've asked this particular question almost countless times. So, before posting the rest of the chapter I'm going to give everyone a chance to respond by stating what they think the question is. You can respond by commenting on this blog or to the email address listed above. I'll wait a couple of days before posting another chapter that gives the answer. So, you all let me know what you think. .........And so it goes............

The ride unforgettable......

Good evening all. I'm happy to have you drop in and visit. Make yourselves comfortable. I hope you notice that I've opened the bar, although the only thing served is cranberry juice. Hey, don't complain, it's good for you. ( :-D ) Anyway, pull up a chair and relax as you read and sip the refreshing juice.
After some thought I decided to tell an amusing story that took place many years ago. Before you ask, yes, it really did happen. I was about 12 years old when we (the whole family) went, one Sunday afternoon, to visit an uncle and his family. In that family was two boys, one a bit older than I and the other about my age. After a while I became bored with our activities and decided to look around on my own. Behind their house I found a bicycle in very good condition, except for....not having a chain. I was intrigued with the possibilities. After contemplating my options for a little while I decided on the 'hill'. Let me at this point talk a little about the 'hill'. My uncle's house was located on a very firm and extremely well packed dirt road. In most places it was only wide enough for one vehicle. The house was at the bottom of a very long and very steep hill. The 'hill' was about 200 yards long, and as was previously mentioned, very steep. About halfway up the hill was a curve to the left and forest was on both sides of the road. I think you now have the picture in mind, right? The option I chose was to push the bicycle to the top of the 'hill', which took quite a while, as I had to stop several times to rest. However, having reached the top of the 'hill', and having counting to "3" approximately fifty three times, I took in a deep breath and shoved off on my, what turned out to be, very long and very quick journey. Let me add at this point that while pushing and wrestling the bicycle to the top of the 'hill' that all of the 'older folks' had decided to come out on the front porch and sit while they talked. They had hardly been seated when, yep, here I came. Let me remind you that the bicycle had no chain, which meant that not only could I not pedal but it also meant that I had no brakes. Not that brakes would have done very much good. When I reached the bottom of the 'hill', my intention was to push back to the top of the 'hill' and come down again. That, as it turned out, was a pipe dream. When I did indeed reach the bottom of the 'hill', I was going an estimated fifty to sixty miles an hour. My clothes and my hair were flapping and waving in the wind and it was hard to breath, as the wind was sucking the air right out of my mouth. So, there I was, streaking along with drool streaming out of my mouth and my eyes burning from the force of the wind. I remember being actually surprised with the effects of the high velocity air. I'm told that when I went by the 'old folks' stood up in astonishment. I didn't see them because I was so greatly focused on the road. I'm only glad that my Dad couldn't get his hands on me at the moment, that he had a little while to 'cool off'. Upon reaching the bottom of the 'hill' it eventually occurred to me that, since I didn't have a chain, I was going to have to coast till I rolled to a gentle stop. Looking back, I'm surprised that I'm not still on the bike and still coasting. I coasted, it seems, about one mile. That put me almost to the highway. Again, looking back, I was very fortunate to not have met a vehicle coming the other way. If I had I'd have had to head off into the woods that surrounded the road. Not a good prospect if one is going fifty miles an hour on a bicycle with no brakes. Let me not forget to mention that somewhere along the journey I went through a large cloud of gnats. I know this because I took about half of them with me plastered on my shirt, arms and face. Ahhh....the follies of youth. I'm sometimes amazed that we any live till adulthood. Such was the ride that was so unforgettable, to so many, for so long. ........And so it went.............

Searching for Mike............

Good afternoon all. Yes, believe it or not, I'm actually on the web and posting a chapter on this blog. I know a lot of people have been wondering where I've been and why I haven't been posting. Well, I'll tell you the truth about it. (as soon as I know too) OK, all kidding aside, here it is. I just needed a break to figure out in which direction to take this endeavor. I've talked to some people and gotten some input and made a decision in that regard. So, if you all will kindly be patient with me, I promise that you'll all see as time goes on the result of that decision. I am going to be posting regularly on here. Although I've decided on the what I'm still deciding on the how. Exactly how I'll post what I'm going to write I'm still praying and meditating about. So, in short, later this evening, or maybe tomorrow, I'll be back with the first chapter in quite a while. I appreciate you're patience and willingness to inquire about myself and the blog. So.......I'll see you again in a little while. ............And so it goes...........

Here I am............

Good evening everyone. Just a quick note to say that my sabbatical is now at a close. I've taken a bit of time away to do some thinking about the direction this is going to take. There is more on the way, so keep checking back. .........And so it will be...........

The Easter of the broken heart........

Good afternoon everyone. Yes, I'm actually posting this chapter in the afternoon instead of the evening. Go figure! ( :-D ) This will be a short chapter, as I'm going to do something I very rarely do. I'm going to talk a bit about me. I don't talk about me very much, preferring instead to listen to others. I won't, therefore, offer any refreshment since you'll be through reading this before you could finish a drink.
Today would be, if she were living, Yvonne's birthday. (Yvonne was my wife) I'm remembering with a broken heart the ten years we had together that were so great. I'm also remembering with a broken heart the other years we had in which she degenerated into mental illness. I won't go into detail. It was a time of great confusion since I didn't know what was happening. I only knew that she was steadily changing and didn't know why. As I look back I grieve her life. A life so vibrant, and yet a life so tragic. She was the love of my life then and I don't understand anymore now than I did then what happened or why. I just try to accept it. I work at that daily. So, here I sit, with a life full of love to give and no one to give it to. One of life's little ironies, huh? She'd have been fifty six today if she were still here. Happy birthday Von! .........And so it went............

The green, green grass of...............

Good evening once again everyone. Welcome back to this blog and thank you for coming and spending your valuable time here. You'll notice that I've removed all of the old chairs and replaced them with cushy recliners. Pick one out and place your order. Since it's not too late I'm serving whatever is legal. ( :-D ) I even have some bottled spring water for someone special. Is that you? I bottled it myself but I won't tell you the source. ( :-D ) Anyway, I'm glad you're here and reading. Relax and enjoy yourselves. Now on to the subject for tonight........
This will be the last chapter on the subject of 'Love', unless I have requests for more. In that case we can explore it a bit further. I've pondered at great length about how to put into words what I want to say in this chapter. In short, I'd like to talk about our responsibilities in a relationship that is Loving. I'll limit this post, in interest of time and space, to three areas of responsibility that we each have. These are areas in which you and I alone have sole discretion in decision making. We can listen to other peoples views and advise, but in the end it's our own choices in these areas that decide our behavior and ultimately the fate of the relationship we're in. The first thing we'll look at is how you and I view ourselves. Do you see yourself as someone of worth? Do you treat yourself as someone of worth? Most of us have issues that make that difficult. Some of these issues are from a childhood that was flawed in some way. That creates problems that we have to live with daily. Some of these issues come from a previous relationship (or relationships) in which betrayal was involved. Betrayal to any degree makes us feel many times like we're worth less than we are. All of this is a part of our human nature, but it isn't something that we can't work through. Sometime with some help. We each though, in the end, are responsible for remaining the way we are or recognizing that we need some help in making changes and actually working to make those changes in how we think happen. A final thought on this is, our worth is not dependent on how a relationship goes (or doesn't go).
The second area of responsibility in a loving relationship is, even though it's crucial, often very neglected. It's working to be lovable. How can we expect someone to love us if we're not someone that can be loved. So often we act selfish, angry, spiteful, sarcastic, etc. and then wonder why our mate isn't as loving as we'd like he/she to be. There are two critically important things that must occur with regularity to keep that from happening. Let me first say that I'm not talking about the occasional times that we feel bad or down. When we've had a bad day. I'm talking about when we're like that on a daily basis. When that is, for us, more the norm than the exception. The first of the two things is that we must often examine ourselves and ask the tough questions. The questions being, "am I easy to love?" and "if I were my mate could I easily love me?" Then comes the harder part, which is of course, answering yourself candidly and honestly. If you don't do that then don't bother to ask the questions at all. Being someone that is easy to love is half of the equation and essential for both in a relationship to work on. (and it is work though worth the effort) The third area of responsibility is to be able to give love. That's the part that often gets all the attention. Let's face it! Sometime we're all hard to love, right? We have to remember though, that when our mate is the hardest to love is when they need our love the very most. That's the time what we have to 'work' at giving our love. If we will give the work that this takes the grass will always stay greener at home than in other places. OK, OK, I'll stop! Just don't throw anymore tomatos. I sincerely hope and pray that this series on 'hope, faith and love' has been helpful but mostly I hope it causes us all to take stock of ourselves and how we live. .....................And so it goes...............

When I say I love you...................

Good evening all. Welcome! Pull up a chair and kick back. I'm happy to have you here. Your showing up has made my day, well, my night actually. Please place your order for refreshment and it will be served up promptly. Oh yeah, don't forget to leave a generous tip for your host.
( :-D ) Tonights chapter is a continuation on Love. The topic on Love we're discussing this evening is 'what is it'. It is, undoubtedly, the most maligned, misused and mistreated word in the English language. It is taken in context with things best referred to as 'lust' and 'desire'. We use it when referring to something like a sandwich, a car, a house, a job (the list is endless). Taken in it's true context those things would be best referred to as I 'like' it. It's mostly taken out of context when referring to a physical relationship. That is, of course, a part of it, but only a small part. This evening we're going to explore a bit about 'what exactly is Love'? Again, let me say that this is not to be considered an exhaustive look at Love. Hopefully though, it will pique your longing to know more. It is, without doubt, the most potent and powerful force known to mankind. OK, on to the definition(s). Of all the places I've looked and all the research I've done I like the usage of the Greeks the best. Where we have one word "Love" they have several. I'm not going to try to talk about all of them but only three. Many of you out there reading this probably know all about this and probably know more about it than I do, but since I'm the one posting this chapter I'll do the talking. The first word I'll mention here is "Agape". It' s the most used in the New Testament scriptures. For me the most significant places it's used is I Corinthians chapter thirteen. In this particular place we're told that Love should be the motivation and the method for all we are and all we do. When we talk about the Love of God that's the kind we're talking about. When we're talking about giving our life for another it's the kind spoken of. I could go on for a long time about this but won't, in the hopes you'll learn about it on your own. If you want some more about this special type of Love you have only to let me know. Another place it's used is in John, chapter twenty one, starting at verse fifteen. Two times Jesus asks Peter does He 'agape' Him. The third time Jesus asks using the word "Philios". Peter, on the other hand uses the word "Philios" all three times in his answering. OK, on to the second. It's called "Philios". From it we get the name of a city in Pennsylvania. (Philadelphia) From this word we get the meaning of loving someone like a brother or sister. It's that long and enduring and trusting friendship that is created by a bond and exists because of that very bond. It's the kind of love that says ' I'll give my life for you, not only in death but in life '. It says ' I'll be there for you no matter what. No matter if your right or wrong. I'm there. OK, on to the third. It's not actually in the New Testament but it's equivalent is in the Old Testament. The Song of Solomon to be more precise. The word in the Greek is "Eros". The word came from one of the mythological gods of which the Greeks had so many. He was the god of desire, sex and in some cases fertility. From that word we get our word 'erotic'. It's associated with pornography and such things. In it's real sense though, it carries no 'bad' or 'dirty' connotations. Let's now wrap this up. There should be in our lives in every relationship Agape and Philios. Those are what makes a relationship good and strong. They make a friendship lasting and good. Let me now, in closing this chapter, make this statement. While every friendship and relationship will do well with the first two there is only one relationship ordained by God to have all three. That, my friends, is the marriage relationship. While Eros can ruin any other relationship, it is required in a marriage. It's the only relationship that can be made better and more healthy because of it. We should keep that in mind always. OK, OK! I'll close this for now, but first let me say that this chapter has two purposes. One is to expound to you more about Love as it's intended. The other is to set up the next chapter posting. I've already started on it, and it's in draft form now. So, keep checking. You're coming here to read this blog makes my day. ...........And so it goes............

The Promise.......

Good evening. I'm happy to see you all here and breathless with anticipation. Let's all pull up your chairs and have a seat while placing your orders. After you receive your order you can prop up your feet and sip your beverage while taking in this, another chapter. This post is a continuation of the last and long ago post introducing this series. Sorry it's been so long but I've had a lot to study and contemplate so I've taken my time.
This chapter is on the "Promise" of Love. That has taken a lot of meditation and study on my part which I've thoroughly enjoyed. The more I thought about it the more I realized that I had my work cut out for me in this chapter. Also, being one to be thorough and have every basis in truth, I decided to take all the time it took. Finally, I decided to give it a try and write this chapter. Soooo....here goes.
The promise of Love is so vast as to defy exploration. In order to simplify things I've broken it down into two parts. Let me say, at this point, that there is no simple way to describe the Promise of Love. I shall try to not be too simplistic as this is no simple thing. These two points are in no particular order. First, there is the eternal part of the promise. As I said in the last chapter, Love is from a single source...God the creator. That being the case we can go on to say and conclude that from Love comes these things. First) Joy. Notice I didn't say happiness. There is a vast difference between joy and happiness. Joy does not depend on circumstances for it's existence. Joy is in place in our lives because of what's on the inside of us, not what's on the outside, as is the case with happiness. Second) is contentment. Notice again that I didn't say satisfaction. One can be content without being satisfied. Contentment comes from a state of mind. Satisfaction comes from seeking to fulfill desires of our human nature. Third) is peace. Peace is not, as is popularly believed to be, the absence of war or strife. Peace comes from liking ourselves and loving who we are on the inside. Peace comes from accepting that we are fallible, making mistakes often, but knowing that doesn't detract from our worth. Our worth comes only from the God that created us. Forth) is discipline. Love makes us want what is best for us, regardless of any temptation otherwise. The ability to say 'no' to those things that we know aren't what we need, IE. food, a relationship, alcohol, drugs (the list is almost endless). At the same time, the ability to say yes to those things that are good and even essential to us, again an almost endless list. Having the Love of God in our life gives us all these things and Oh! so very much more. OK, I'll stop here with that list, although it could go on for a while longer. The second part has to do with our relationships. The Promise of a Loving relationship is the dream and hearts desire of us all. To Love and have the Love of someone that is special to us makes us complete in a sense. We everyone have in our natures the longing to Love and be Loved in the most real sense of the word. Now that takes us to a whole new chapter so I'll use this as a place to end this post and introduce the next one. Since I've done much of the study and research on this I won't be so long between posting. The next post will explore what Love is as far as relationships are concerned. So, I'll leave you here and invite you all back for that chapter. ..........And so it goes..........

Ahhhh...How do I Love thee...let me count the way !

Good evening! Welcome to yet another chapter in this blog. I've added more chairs so pick out one and have a seat. I have a full menu of drinks tonight so let me know what you want. I even have bottled water. It's a special kind, straight from the mountains of Tibet, for those of you that are picky. :-D I myself will have some coffee topped off with some Baileys. Ahhh...now this is living. OK, enough. On to the topic for tonight.
As promised we're going to pursue Love. Let me say here that this will not be an exhaustive treatise on the subject. The purpose of this is to give light to some wisdom about it. Pure and simple. So please don't think that Love is simple enough to fit into a simple man's simple blog. It certainly isn't. Having said that we'll proceed.
The source. This is actually easily put. Based on Holy Scriptures, specifically I John, chapter four, verse eight, we have the answer. So you don't have to look it up I'll put it in quotes here. "He that Loves not knows not God, for God is Love". So there, ladies and gentlemen, you have it. Love comes from God. If you're in Love you have that ability because God gave it to you. If you love anyone in any way, family and friends for example, you have that ability because God gave it to you. We come into this world with an acute desire to be loved and nurtured. After we grow a bit we have the desire to love back. Usually family first. The word Love is probably the most misused and corrupted word known to mankind. It's equated with sex, lust, desire, pornography, homosexuality and other deviate behaviors. The only thing that Love has to do with any of that is that it simply isn't there. Those things exist because of a lack of real Love. In this series I won't be using the words 'true love' because they've become so attached to meanings that have little to do with Love itself. I'll, instead, be using the words 'real Love'. I hope when this series is over you'll understand why I make that distinction. Any pattern of thought or behavior that doesn't reflect the Holy image of God isn't Love and has little or nothing to do with Love. Love is a very special thing brought to be by a sovereign God. Any deviation from what God intends for it to be and it ceases to be Love in the truest sense of the word.
OK, enough for now. Let me say again, this isn't meant to be exhaustive, but to give you some insight and the desire to know more about it. A good place to start in your search for more is I John, chapter four, verses eight through eleven. You're invited back as we delve more deeply into this subject. .........And so it goes.......

The gospel according to.......John, Paul, George and Ringo???

Good Morning all. I'm glad you all are taking the time to read this, another chapter in the continuing saga of Mike's blog. Since it's eighteen degrees outside, and I'm still chilled to the bone from having worked outside yesterday (it barely made it to freezing) I'm offering a limited menu of beverages. There are four choices: coffee or chocolate or coffee or chocolate. You pick which of the four you'd like. :-D Anyway, the most important thing is that you stay warm and relaxed as your read and enjoy.
The posting of this chapter finds us on to something else. Something that everyone has experience with, or has experienced in the past. For some it's been a wonderful and life changing thing, for others it's ranged from mildly bad to horrible. In spite of the experience though, we all crave and demand it. As a matter of fact, I'm not sure any of us could live without it. The irony is though, most don't even know what it truly is. As JL, PM, GH and RS sang "all you need is Love". Well...not 'all' you need. When I was nineteen and just married, my teenage bride and I tried living off of Love. We both lost a lot of weight we didn't need to lose, but I'd highly recommend the diet. Very effective and the most fun of any diet I've heard of. Anyway, my way of saying, there is more to life than Love but I can think of nothing more essential. It ranks right up there with water and food. In this, and subsequent postings, I'd like to talk a bit about Love. It's source, it's promise, what it is, the fulfilling effect it has on our lives and it's potential effects, both positive and/or negative. I suppose one could call this chapter a 'tease' because I'm stopping here. I will though, in the next day or so begin posting on this. I'd be happy to have you join me in the journey. ..........And so it goes.........

I'm back....sort of.

Good Morning. Just a quick note to say that I'm going to start posting to the blog again. Frankly, I've been a bit discouraged with it but seem to working through it. :-) Anyway...a short post here.
I've been contemplating the connections between Hope and Faith. A quick word about it then on to something else. 'Hope' and 'Faith' are so interconnected as to be non-existent if one is removed. The reason we can have faith is because we have Hope. The reason we have Hope is because of our Faith. Would you agree. In my travels through life I've noticed the inseparability of the two. The longer I live the more firmly that precept is re enforced. I'll be back with more posts in a couple of days on a new yet old part of life. Something that makes life worth living.
.........And so it goes.........

Faith..........continued.

Good evening again all! Welcome back. I told you that it wouldn't be so very long this time, huh? I attempt to be a man of my word, so here I am. Step in and claim your seat. Place your orders and your refreshment will be served right up. Oh, yeah. No one would drink the water last time since it wasn't filtered, so I added a filter. ( :-D ) OK, OK. I'm being quiet on that now. On to the reason for this chapter. We talked a bit about "Faith" last chapter. Now we'll continue that. The first ingredient was believing. Believing in what? Ah, therein lies the question for us all. Then we continued on to Trust. Let us not mix up faith and trust. Trust is an important ingredient but isn't the whole thing. Now let us go on to the next ingredient. Without this next one our faith is only a word. It comes from Holy Scriptures, from the book of Hebrews chapter eleven verse one. If you look in the King James version it'll have the word 'substance', right? That was a good word to use in the days of King James, but in today's vernacular it would be easier understood if it read 'reality'. In the original Greek language it's written "stasis". (two different 's' sounds) Literally it means to know something so surely that you stand effectively and unimpaired. Read this way you could say the writer is saying that in everyday living our Faith is what makes God real to us. Said another way, Faith is what makes God real to everyone around us. He becomes our reality because of our Faith. OK, to the next ingredient. It comes from the second part of the same verse. The word I'll use is 'Proof'. The literal Greek word is " elegxos ". The King James uses the word evidence. Again, a good word in the days of King James, but the word 'Proof ' is much better when using today's English. It's used in the context of a Judicial hearing or court case. In court, the one with the most compelling 'evidence' is the winner. (well, it's supposed to work that way) Better said, the one with the "proof " carries the day. In our everyday living our Faith is very often the best " proof " of the God in which we so devoutly believe. Sometimes, for some people, it's the only " proof " that they ever see. So, it's up to us to show God through our Faith. It's our reality and their proof. OK, enough for tonight. If you want more on this word just let me know in the comments. If I don't see that I'll continue to the next and last word for this series of chapters. So, with that said, I'll ease out and let you enjoy this chapter on Faith. ........And so it goes.........

News of a sundry nature...and ..."Word number two".

Good evening all. Let me acknowledge first of all that I've been delinquent in this, the next chapter. For that I apologize and promise to try to do better. In reality though, this post required some research, which I've done, but still feel ill qualified to write, but on the other hand it's my blog and if I don't who will? ( :-D ) Last time, after offering mint juleps, I had a request for, of all things, water. So, I'm adding water to the menu of items offered. With that said, pull up your chair (most have assigned seats now) place your order, enjoy your beverage and read. The news I spoke of in the title is this. I went to my arm Doctor last Wednesday and was told that my elbow is in great shape. I think the words He used were 'It couldn't look better'. I, not wanting to under go another such surgery, was more than happy to hear that. Crissy and I spent a fun filled evening at B. B. Kings blues club the night before the appointment and that was a really great treat for me. I wish Kim could have gone too. We missed her being there and commented on that. OK, enough of the news and on to the word for this chapter. (and maybe others to follow too) The word is (drum rolllllllllllllllll)..........Faith. Again, let me say that I feel singularly unqualified to do the writing for this but here goes. Faith is a word of immense proportions. It's used rather freely and glibly in our society and language. There are several theories about the source of the word but the most commonly held view is that it came from the Latin. The Latin word was "fides" from which we also get our word 'confide' from. It meant to have a hard, unshakable and firmly held belief. I'll touch on different 'ingredients' of the word as we know it. Let me say here that for me it's a very seriously held word. I suppose the first ingredient would be "belief". We all have a belief system by which we live. That system governs our thought processes and behavior in our walk everyday. If you know a persons beliefs you'll be able to easily figure out their values (or lack thereof), their priorities (or lack thereof) and future behaviors. Our belief systems are often neglected because most don't give any thought at all to it. The question for you and I to ask tonight (and lots of other nights) are...What do I belief and why? The next ingredient is 'trust'. Most of us think that faith and trust are mostly interchangeable. Let me emphatically say here that they are not. Trust is a part of faith. If you remove trust faith fails but the same can be said for belief. Oh yeah, some other words to come also. Trust is, like most everything else, a choice. It's easily destroyed and long and slowly built. I don't think that there is anyone in the world that hasn't been guilty of destroying the trust others have had for us. Most of us, if given the chance, can rebuild that trust but it's a long, slow and arduous process. At the same time, we've all lost trust for someone else and they've had to rebuild it. Wow, this could be the longest chapter ever, huh? This is the basics and the best is yet to come. At least it was the best and most exciting for me. So, on that note, I'm going to close this chapter with the promise to continue it in a couple of days. The research being done, I promise it won't be more than a day or two before the next exciting chapter in "Mike's blog". So, keep checking in. ...........And so it goes..............

I still Hope so..... and ....another mule story.

Good evening everyone. This chapter is sort of a duel purpose one. SO....kick back and relax while you read. You can take off your shoes if your feet are clean. ( :-D ) I'm taking orders for refreshments so let me know. My specialty is still Mint Julep though. Before I take off on this story I want to add an addendum to the last post. One thing I left out is a word heard commonly in our society and it has everything to do with hope, or the lack of hope. I know so very many people that can relate to this. It's call 'depression' and it's a debilitating problem to deal with. I know because I've fought it for a long time. If it weren't for my shrink I might not have made it this far. Let me hasten to add that loss of hope isn't the cause for ALL depression. Sometime one loses hope because of the depression. It is a common factor though and they go hand in hand with other. OK...on to something else. Next chapter will start on the next word in this short series. I had an interesting conversation not long ago and had a request for more stories about my old arch enemies, the mules. It's been many chapters since I mentioned them, so if you're not familiar with the chapters on them you should go back and catch up. This story is based in fact. My first cousin and best friend when growing up was Buddy. His nickname of course. Buddy and I were pretty much inseparable when young. Come to think of it, I'll have to post about Buddy later. An interesting character if I've ever known one. Anyway, I'm off of my subject. On this particular day Buddy and I were in the back of the farthest field, He with the Black mule and me with the Red one. It was a day in early June and the cotton I was plowing was about ten to twelve inches high. Buddy was plowing an area that had not long ago been cleared for planting, but was not yet ready. We called it 'new ground'. The day was beautiful but hot and we didn't want to be there, but the mules wanted to be there less than we. As I was trudging along behind the mule and feeling sorry for myself ( :-D ) I suddenly heard such a clatter that I looked up to see what was the matter. I heard that lyric somewhere lately. The problem was clear as soon as I looked up. The spectacle was Buddy running along behind the Black mule as fast as He could. It seems that it was a stampede. The Black mule had decided to go to the barn and had broken into a dead run in that direction. Buddy, it seems, had wrapped the reins around his wrist. I laugh now as I recall the sight. There went Buddy, taking strides about twenty feet long trying hard to keep up and not fall. All the time though, He was working just as hard to get the reins unwrapped from his wrist. While all this was happening the plow He was using (called a scratcher) was bouncing up and down and all over the place. As I stood watching this in amazement, mouth hanging open, it suddenly struck me as one of the funniest things I'd witnessed to that point in my young life. (about sixteen years of it at that point) As the pair of them went racing by all I could do was stand there and laugh my head off...along with other parts of my anatomy. I still think it was one of the funniest things ever. Even Buddy can chuckle about it now, but it took him a long time to get to that point. After tying my mule to a tree in the shade, I ran to join Buddy that was hurriedly striding along the dirt road. After catching up with him I immediately saw that keeping quiet was a good policy at that point in time. Which is what I did. I didn't think He could be more angry till we came into sight of the barn. There stood the old Black mule, patiently standing at the gate waiting for someone to let him in. I then realized that it was possible for Buddy to be more angry. As a matter of fact, I began to be afraid He would burst a blood vessel or blow his cork, or whatever was going to happen. When He finally began to speak He....well....I shan't repeat what was said, but believe me when I say it was a work of art and took great imagination. Thus were the life and times of Mike and Buddy in the days we look back upon and call "the good old days". .............And so it went..........

I certainly Hope so....... (first word)

Good evening everyone, and welcome to this chapter. I'm honored and flattered that you would once again take time from your busy lives (especially this time of year) to visit this blog. So, let me welcome you in. Sit, relax and let me know what you want for refreshment and it'll be served right up.
In the very first post to this blog I made clear my purpose for starting and continuing this endeavor. Let me repeat it so you won't have to look all the way back to recall it. My stated purpose was/is to offer hope and encouragement to all who read. To this point I've mostly dedicated myself to letting everyone get to know me a bit. Of course there is still much most don't know. Over time though you will. I begin now mixing the chapters a bit to accomplish that.
In the last chapter I said that there were three words which I'd like to talk a bit about. This post will be on the first of those. This is something I know something about, mostly because I've been to the extreme on both sides of this word. The word for this chapter is..(drum roll)... HOPE. A very simple word which we all use pretty much daily and mostly without thinking about it. A word we tend to use rather freely. I've done a bit of research about it. The dictionaries I've consulted describe it as (I'll paraphrase a bit here) "an expectation of achieving something or of something coming to pass". I've thought long and hard about how to write this (and continue to do so) and realize that I'll have to write it from my own perspective. Hope is thought to be different things by different people. To everyone it has a different significance and value. So, from my perspective, here goes. I can think of very few things that is more important. To a person in combat it has a huge significance. I can tell you that the sound of a helicopter is like a sound from heaven itself. I can say that, to a cancer patient (been there) Hope has a vast importance. It means the continuation of life itself. I can say that to someone that's lonely it has a wonderful meaning. In that respect it springs eternal (so to speak). To someone that's watched a loved one slowly wilt and die before your eyes it has an even different value. To someone that is wrestling with a hard and difficult career it means something better at some point. To someone that's gone through a bitter divorce it means life afterward. To someone that has been so very stressed that they can barely make it from day to day hope has a very special significance. I stated a bit ago that I'd be writing this from a personal perspective since it's the only one I know. That's what I'm doing. I've had all those experiences I've described. In the year two thousand one I was going through or had just gone through many of the things I just described. It was at that time I lost all hope that anything would ever be better. I became suicidal because of that loss. I was hospitalized for a short time then began seeing a therapist and continue to do so. It's the reason I'm still here and writing this. I've come to know that to remove someones hope is to end their life. I can say with certainty that if one has no hope they won't allow themselves to continue to live. Everyone reading this can relate to some degree to what I've said. Everyone can recall times in your life when hope was dim or gone. Although that be true, only those that have been without hope can know the anguish brought on by the total loss of hope. I believe that Solomon said it best in Ecclesiastes chapter nine verse four. I won't write out the verse here so you'll have to look it up for yourselves. It says "where there is life there is hope". Also, Jeremiah said in Lamentations chapter three verses twenty one through twenty six, that we are all (whether we acknowledge it or not) totally dependent on God. Being dependent on God is what gives us eternal hope. Sorry, you'll have to look that one up too. Let's face it. Without that hope that comes from God we're all fighting a losing battle. Let me say before I stop and crawl into bed that I now have hope out the waa zoo. (that taken from the movie 'over the hedge') ( :-D ) To conclude this I'll give you something I've learned over the years. While Solomon is absolutely right that 'where there is life there's hope' the reverse of that sentence is also true. Where there is hope there's life too. Ask anyone that's lost or almost lost either. .........And so it goes...........

Three crucial words that give life meaning......

Good evening all! Thank you once again for showing up to check out this chapter. It's a bit past my bedtime so I shall not linger long on this post. The purpose of this chapter is to introduce the next several posts on this blog. I promise if you come back you'll learn something and leave encouraged. If that's what happens I'll have accomplished what I started out to do. Again, since it' s now past my bedtime and my eyelids are heavy I'm going to leave it at that for now with the promise that I'll be back very soon to continue what I started tonight. I'll look forward to seeing you again soon. ........and so it goes.........

The nomad wanderer............

Good Morning everyone...I bet the morning part threw you all off your stride, huh? It's uncommon to have morning posts. At any rate, welcome to this, another chapter in the life. I'm pleased to announce that since the last post I've taken yet another trip. I departed on the ninth of this month, spent the weekend in Jacksonville, Fl. and visited the Church My deceased wife and I used to attend. I was fortunate enough to find friends there that I haven't seen in about three decades. They are doing well I'm pleased to say. On Monday the eleventh I left there and headed south for sunny south Florida. There I spent three marvelous days and nights with my wonderful nephew and his beautiful wife. Let me hasten to say here that, while she is very beautiful on the outside, Her true beauty is on the inside. Brad and Mandy are truly blest to have found each other in this crazy, mixed up world. While there I visited Ft. Lauderdale, the sight of many adventures for a blond young boy that was wide eyed with the world around him. I did indeed identify the exact spot that the boy directed traffic for a short time. I also was able to identify the spot that some young boys were picked up by the police and taken home to their certain doom. ( :-D ) I was also blest to meet up with a wonderful friend and her family for dinner. What a joyous occasion that was. I look forward to a lifelong friendship with them. In all I drove about two thousand miles. It was a trip I'd looked forward to for many, many years. I have to say here that it was a complete success. Well, until I got back into Birmingham. It took two very long and draining hours just to get through that unfortunate city. It seems that about eighty percent of the people in that metropolis don't know that the left lane is for passing and the right lane is for traveling. It makes for a tough drive. OK, I'm off of my soap box! To answer a question that has been posed to me more than once. Yes, I did indeed go alone. I played many CDs and sang to my hearts content. (I kept the windows up on my truck so no one could hear) Anyway, that's the latest on the life about which you've read so much. I've been asked for more mule stories so I'll post another chapter or two about those cursed animals. ...........And so it went............

Yea, tho I walk thru the valley of Misconception.....

Good evening everyone, and thank you for taking the time from your busy lives to visit. I know that this time of year is especially tough for some, and sadly so. I was just explaining to someone that I don't get involved in the commercialism of Christmas, but prefer to watch as others race through their lives in a desperate attempt to accomplish all that's expected of them. To that I say "Bless their little hearts"!!! Ok, Ok...Enough Mike. Get on with the post! Anyway, welcome and pull up a chair, ask for your favorite drink and relax as you read.
This particular chapter is about living life in a swirl of misconceptions. As we walk through our lives we tend to be labeled by those around us. Hopefully in small ways but labeled nonetheless. The last couple of days I've been working to recall the times in my life that I've been labeled with a misconceived idea. Here are the conclusions I've come to on the subject. (One) Misconceptions come in all shapes and sizes. (Two) They come from people in every walk of life and social status. (Three) No matter where they come from or what the misconception is it affects our life in some way, and it's usually in a negative one. (Four) When a misconception is formed it's almost impossible to change it to what is the truth. Partly because it's very hard to find out that it exists and partly because it's in the mind of another person and we human beings tend to believe what we choose to believe. Since it's mostly impossible to change another persons mind the misconception lives on and thrives in fertile soil till it becomes a permanent fixture. I've also considered the times that I have had misconceptions. Of course it's nigh impossible to count the total times but I can recall some of the times I've nursed misconceptions. Speaking for me (since I'm the only one that can), the times I've developed a misconception is when I've looked at a part of the whole and decided that I knew the 'whole truth'. That is, in fact, where most are born. A really sad thing is, we miss out on so very much in life because we develop misconstrued lines of thought about someone or something, be it big or little. A misconception, in my humble opinion, isn't actually a 'lie', but is indeed very close kin. It's amazing how quickly a misconception can become a full blown lie, simply by the expression thereof. I wish I could truthfully deny having ever done that, but alas, I cannot. A good example of the misconception is how political ideas are planted in the minds of voters. They are then mulled over for a few seconds then develop into grown up lies. The better example though, is when we (you and I) see a part of something and assume it to be the whole and then assume that it's the total truth when, in fact, it is not. Ok, Ok. I'll stop. Before I stop completely let me encourage you to, before you make up your mind as to the truth, pursue the whole picture and find out the whole story. In doing so it will make life so much easier for you and those that are being misconceived. .........And so it goes.............

Maggie........

Good evening everyone. I know I've been missed so I won't ask if I have. ( :-D ) Since it's late and the kitchen has been cleaned I'm not going to offer refreshments, but you're welcome to supply your own. At any rate, pull up a chair, sit back and take in another chapter.
I've stated in past posts that I am indeed a very blessed man. Blessed, I might add, beyond what I deserve. Tonight, I talk about one of those blessings. Her name is Maggie and she's my oldest granddaughter, being ten and a half years of age. (let us not forget the half) She and her youngest brother are here visiting with me for a few days. I'm not sure I could handle Brody if Maggie were't here, so thanks Maggie. More on Brody later. Now, more on Maggie. The older Maggie gets the prettier she gets. As she grows physically she also is becoming more and more of a little lady. Also as she grows on the outside she is growing at a remarkable rate spiritually. Maggie is, without doubt, the most kind hearted and gentle young lady I know. She reminds me greatly of her Mom when her Mom was that age. Maggie is someone you just love to be around. Partly because she's just very likeable. Partly because she has just a gentle spirit and soul. Partly because she has so much compassion. I've thought the last few days about this post and how I was going to put it all down in print. The one thing one has to look out for with Maggie is the depth of the questions she poses from time to time. Sometime the questions she asks require that I give considerable thought about how to answer. The depth of the questions she asks gives me great pride in her intellect and the decernment God has put in her heart. It also tends to keep my on my toes as I endouver to give the best answer I can, and hopefully the right one. One of the things I look forward to is watching Maggie grow from the ten year old she is now to the woman of God she is to become. Watching God use the gentleness and Love that she has so much of to His own purpose. Just a bit about why I'm so greatly blessed ............And so it goes..........

Ellas......

Good evening everyone. Welcome to this chapter. Pull up a chair and place your order, remembering of course, that it's five o'clock somewhere. ( :-D ) I'm pleased that you're taking time and stopping your life briefly to catch up on this blog. I started a short while back posting on the Grandchildren. I started, of course, with Ty. Now it's time to talk a bit about Ellas. Ellas is seven years old with boundless energy, thin and wiry and with an impish grin. One thing that I find remarkable about Ellas, besides his limitless energy, is that if one slows him down long enough the reward will be a hug. He is a very affectionate little guy and a smile is never very far from his face. Don't get me wrong. He does have his moments, but that simply makes him human like the rest of us. God has, it seems, blessed him with an infectious attitude. Anyone that's around him for very long can't help but smile a bit and find their spirits lifted somewhat. Of course he has a mischievous nature too. He enjoys aggravating his cousins some. Well, a lot actually, but again, that makes him human. Albeit, a very young and small one. Let me not forget to mention also that Ellas cannot stand to eat green beans. ( :-D ) The reason for the timing of this post is that about a week ago, after having been to the Pediatrician a couple of times, He was admitted to Children's hospital in Birmingham. I'm convinced, as is everyone else, that if he'd not been admitted His young life would have ended. Many many tests were administered and the final conclusion by the Doctors was that he had Stevens Johnson syndrome, or SJS. At the risk of over simplifying, he had a massive reaction to some medication or combination of medications that he'd been prescribed. He is now at home and improving daily. I believe that the reason he's still alive is because God answered many prayers. My thanks to the professionals at children's for their dedicated and tireless work. My thanks, most of all to Kim and Scott for being loving and diligent parents. I love you guys a lot!! In conclusion let me comment that in fifty seven years of life I've rarely encountered a child that sick that recovered. I was very scared. Thank you God for bring health to him once again. ..........And so it goes..........

A little known part of me............

Good evening and welcome! I'm so very pleased to have you drop in for a visit. It flatters me that you all would take time from busy schedules to drop in. So, come in, pull up a chair and order yourself something to drink. Relax while you read. The little known part that I'm going to tell about surprises most people when they hear about it. It's a part of my life that I remember fondly. Here it is..... In nineteen seventy two, when my wife and I had been married just over three years and Kim was two years old, I'd just gotten out of the Navy and was looking for a job. As much of a relief it was being out of the Military I found myself with a family and without a job. One day I was at the church that we attended and was ask to take some stuff to the 'home for children', not to be confused with the orphanage. This home for children was for children that had parents but the parents didn't want them, for whatever "reason". It was while I was there that I was offered a job. It was a job I'd never considered so I told them that I'd have to think about it. Of course, not having a job I thought about it a lot and very quickly. The conclusion I came to was that I'd give it a try. So....Try we did. After selling our house the next week we loaded up our worldly belongings and headed east. I still have difficulty believing we'd accumulated so much. ( :-D ) Upon arriving at the home we were assigned to a 'cottage' that housed sixteen little boys ranging from the ages of six to twelve. We were house parents, bless our hearts. We were there for about three months, until a visit to a doctor, where we received the news of the pregnancy. Yep. We were once again going to have a child. Crissy is the blessed result. Having that in our future, and knowing the problems my wife had with carrying a child I decided to, once again, move. While there though, we set about making memories that have stayed with me for these many years. I can still recall many of the names of the boys. There was a Roland, Paul, Petey, Wilson, Broadus, John and I'll have to get my old list out to recall the others. Since the names won't mean anything to you all I'll refrain. While there I was in charge of the running of the farm as well as the running of the house we were in. As one can imagine, there was never a dull moment. If you all want I can recall some of the moments that were most memorable. That was a time in my life that I'll never forget and often recall. Ok, I'll stop writing so I can go to bed. Before I go though, let me say that I often wonder about those little boys. They'd long since have grown into men now and have made their way into whatever avenues of life they've chosen. Sometime I think of trying to track them down but that never gets past the thinking stage. Anyway, now you know about a part of me that until now no one has known much about. Goodnight ..................And so it went.............

Welcome...........

Good morning everyone! Thank you again for popping in to read this chapter of this blog. Just a short post here.
I'd like to welcome a little lady to this big wide world. Her name is Sarah Kathryn and she is now about a month old. I won't say how cute she is since ALL babies are cute. I will say, however, that since she is my first, and so far only, great niece, that she is exceptional in every way. Welcome Sarah Kathryn to this world, such as it is. I promise here and now that I'll be the very best great uncle that I can be and will be there for you as God gives me the ability to do that. ................And so it goes................

The REAL "simple life"......

Good evening once again to everyone. I'm very pleased to have you taking your valuable time from your busy lives to read this edition of this blog. I have refreshments to offer. Just name what you want and it'll be served right up!
This particular chapter is about something quite wonderful I've observed over the years. Something that makes my heart smile. No...Not smile, but grin! It makes me want to laugh out loud and I often do when thinking of this. You all have seen or heard ( hopefully just heard about) the TV show named 'the simple life' starring those infamous and questionable "ladies" named Paris and Nicole. It is to me a horrendous show that should never have been considered for air time. So......without further ado, let me introduce the "real simple life". As I progress in life and hopefully maturity, I've come to know the real simplicity of the life of a child. It's a world filled with wonder at the things they experience. A world filled with awe because of the things they learn. I often spend a lot of time with young children, mostly my grandchildren. I never cease to be amazed at the things that brings them joy and brings laughter to their face. An experience such as just swinging in a tire swing. When I swing them in the tire swing I built for them I hear peals of laughter floating on the wind. That laughter can be heard all over the neighborhood. I see the joy brought about by simply taking a walk while they hold on to my hand. The joy of a wildflower as they stoop to examine it. The thrill of watching an insect as it buzzes through the air. The excitment when they see someone they love holding out their arms for them to run into. Oh for the real simple life that we all seem to lose a part of as we get older and more exposed to the world in which we live. Not the mockery of the 'simple life' as shown on tv. As I ponder the world of a child I'm reminded of the song by Louis Armstrong "What a wonderful world". A very fitting tribute to a child's world it seems to me. Sing it Louis! ............And so it goes..........

"The whirling dervish" or "How the beltway was conquered".

Good evening everyone. I apologize for the lateness of this post and recognize the tardiness of posting to my blog. My only excuse is that I've been super busy. Hey, it's the most convenient excuse I can come up with on short notice. ( :-D ) The title of this chapter of the blog is, I know, a bit confusing but the truth is it's your choice. Believe me when I say that either title will fit well. This particular chapter is about the 'vacation' I took with my oldest brother, Jerry. What an experience, and I add quickly, one that I don't intend to repeat. (unless I completely lose the rest of my mind)
We started the trip at about seven p.m. and drove until we reached out destination at roughly four a.m. Upon reaching Lynchburg, VA. We promptly slept until eleven a.m. What a start to a vacation, huh? After visiting with my nephew and his charming wife for a day or two we then set off on a mind shattering three day tour of five states and the District of Columbia. The first day of the tour we hit Monticello and Gettysburg, and before you say anything, they are a couple of hundred miles apart. What we saw in those quick hours was mind numbing and meant to be seen in a much longer time. After seeing Gettysburg (and I use the word seeing loosely) We drove a couple more hours into Maryland where we spent the night. After rising early the next morning, having breakfast, etc. We then headed for D.C. I hardly know at this point how to describe that experience. After checking into our hotel we spent the waning hours of the day at the Holocost museum (about forty five minutes there) then on to the Smithsonian. Two whole hours I recall it being. Then it was back to the hotel and a quick nights sleep. The next morning we were again up early, had breakfast then headed out to catch the subway to Arlington. We spent a whole hour there glancing at what should take a whole day to see. Then it was on to the National mall where we took in the Lincoln memorial. At that point Jerry and I parted ways for a bit. After a hurried visit there I walked to the Korean war memorial then on down the mall to the World war II memorial. What a magnificent sight to behold. Breathtaking really. Then it was on to the Washington monument where Jerry and I once again met up. Let me interject here that I'm working hard to recall the events because I don't generally think as fast as things actually transpired. Day three came and we were on to Richmond where we saw St. James Episcopal Church, then on to Appomatix. Both of those places amid the five hour drive back to Lynchburg. By that time I was pretty much numb and ready to get back home. Thinking back on it I can't believe I survived as well as I did. Those kind of experiences only happen in the movies I thought. Well, I stand corrected. I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't had a front row seat for the whole thing. Now the good news. I did, indeed, survive and am back. I'll write more on the subject later, but for now, I'm off to bed. Goodnight all..... .........And so it went..........

Packing up and heading out........

Good afternoon. Yeah, I bet the afternoon part caught you all off guard, huh? Anyway, a short post to say I'll be gone on a trip for a week starting tomorrow, but as General Douglas said, "I shall return". Please don't sit around waiting for me to get back. ( :-D ) When I do get back I'll have some more exciting materal to blog about. That just so you'll be in breathless anticipation. ..............And so it is.............

Remembering Dennis.........

Good morning to all and thank you for taking valuable time from your day and from your life to read this post. I'll keep this one short since it's way past my bedtime. I'd offer you all something to drink but you're all asleep I suppose. ( :-D )
This post is about someone I've already written about once. I bet you all remember my post about my brother Dennis. As I write this, it being the twelfth of October, Dennis would if still alive, be sixty years old as of the tenth. As I write this and as I've thought about this a lot in the last few days I wonder what he'd have gone through and what he'd have become. I know that it's been forty three years since his last birthday but I'd like to say that I still miss him even after all this time. One can't lose a best friend as well as brother without being greatly affected for the rest of one's life. I plan to think of him every day and give God thanks for giving him to me for the fourteen years I had him.
Since it's now past my bedtime I'll conclude....... ...........And so it goes..........

Ty

Good evening everyone. Welcome once again to this blog. Go ahead and make yourselves at home. Kick back and relax. I'll get you're drinks and some snacks while you peruse this post.
This post this evening is about someone very special to me and just plain very special in every way. I'm guessing that you've figured out who it is from the title, right? Ty (that's short for Tymon) is my eight year old grandson. Oh yeah, he just reminded me that he's going to be nine in less than two weeks. I recall how important that is when one is eight, almost nine. Ty just happens to be the image of my brother Dennis. You remember, I posted about him several months ago, about his life and his death at the age of seventeen. The older Ty gets the more he looks like Dennis and has so very many of the same characteristics. Now, at this point, I'm going to adknowledge that I'm a bit predisposed to being super proud of Ty. That said and out of the way I'll continue. Ty is a very handsome and very intelligent young boy. He is a thinker and tends to be kind and gentle and tender hearted. When faced with something that he doesn't understand he first takes some time to think through what he does know, then asks the most intelligent questions. An example is, when studying electricity in school he would sit and think for a long period of time, then he'd come to me and ask questions that I found to be remarkable. The questions would have been average for a freshman in college. I'd then go over electrical theory, concentrating on the questions he'd ask. I would marvel at his curiosity and hunger to learn everything he could. As a companion, someone to spend time with and do things with, he is once again remarkable. Always very polite and considerate of the feelings of those around him. Opening the door so those entering or departing through the door could pass through first. At eight years of age he has learned, among other things, all of the books of the Bible in the correct order. (this without singing them) I suppose you can tell by now how proud I am of Ty and rightfully so. I see God doing great things in Ty's life as he gets older and am proud and thankful to be a very close part of such a wonderful work in progress! I'm going to be posting about the other grandchildren as time goes on. ............And so it goes...........

A night on the town........

Good Evening everyone, and welcome to another edition of my blog. I seem to settling back in to the routine of posting in the evening, but I know you won't mind that. Step up and tell me what you want to drink and I'll have it for you in a jiffy. I have tea, milk and water. Take your drink and settle in for this edition. So...Sit back and enjoy this, another story in a thus far long and satisfying life, a life which just happens to be the one I've lived.
Let me say before I start this that it is indeed a true story. That said I'll begin. The setting for this story is in Ft. Lauderdale. The date was in or around 1953 at which time I was the ripe old age of four years old. We lived on Davie Blvd. Not too far from State road seven. My Dad, being a builder, was in the process of building a new house for us in front of the house that we lived in. I remember it well. It was a huge house as the neighborhood went. It had four bedrooms and two bathrooms, which may not sound like much today, but in the 1953 neighborhood in which we lived it was a marvel. I can still see it in my minds eye. Ok, enough of the house. When my Dad had the house almost done, ie. Windows and doors in place and locks installed, etc. My two older brothers and a first cousin decided that they wanted to "camp out" in the house one night. Of course I wanted to be a part of that too. The cousin was the oldest, being about nine years old, my oldest brother being about eight, the next oldest brother was about seven. I remember about nine or ten o'clock being taken to the house with bedrolls, pillows and other such things and being told to stay inside till they came to get us the next morning. I then remember all of us talking and giggling about the adventure we were on. The next thing I recall everyone had waked up and was talking. It appeared to be rather light outside so the powers that be concluded that it was daylight. Actually, it was the street lights shining in the windows. The two oldest delegated the seven year old to slip outside, slip up to the house, find out what time it was, then come back and report what he'd found out. So....The seven year old slipped out the door, (the same one we'd been forbidden to leave out of till morning) eased up to the house, looked at the clock through a window, then came back and reported to us that it was indeed about daylight. He said that it was six thirty in the morning. What everyone of the powers that be failed to consider was, the seven year old hadn't yet learned to tell time. He had, it seemed, simply guessed. After careful consideration and much discussion it was decided by the elders of the group that since it was almost time for breakfast we'd take an early morning stroll. We then started out of the door (yep, the same forbidden door) then the elders noticed how dark it still was. Not stopping to consider that a mistake had been made in the intelligence report made by the seven year old they wisely, or not so wisely, as the case may be, decided to take something for protection. So....Back into the house we went, and straight to the tool box that was there. The oldest of the elders decided that he'd take a hachett (just for protection you understand). The second oldest of the elders decided that a crowbar would be good for the same aforementioned protection. The seven year old (the one that brought back the intelligence report) chose for himself a handsaw. I still haven't figured out how a handsaw was going to protect anything or anyone. After deliberating some the elders decided that I was too young to have a weapon for protection. I recall being disappointed but accepting. Having dispensed with the planning formalities we then set out on our 'stroll'. We started out on Davie Blvd. Then headed west toward State road seven. I'm not sure which of the elders was in charge of route planning so I won't spectulate on it. Regardless of the decision making processes we started out and soon was on State road seven, which was a very busy road, being the main artery north and south for Ft. Lauderdale. We had, as I recall, walked about two blocks headed south when a police car drove by headed north. It immediately made a U-turn and started back our way. The oldest of the elders at that point made the statement "They're coming after us", to which the second oldest of the elders said "they are not". The oldest one was right. The police car, with the two policemen came to a stop beside us. I don't recall much about the conversation but it went something like this. Policeman: What are you boys doing out here? One of the elders: Just taking a walk before breakfast. Policeman: You boys know it's only two o'clock in the morning, don't you? One of the elders: No sir. We thought it was six thirty (with a look at the seven year old) Policeman: What are you boys doing with the tools? One of the elders: We just brought them for protection. We wanted to be ready if someone jumped on us. Policeman: Well, now that we're here you won't need them so let me have them. The elders: Yes sir (handing the tools to the policeman). Policeman: (having retrieved the tools) You boys get into the back seat. One of the elders: Yes sir. We all at that point got into the back seat of the police car amid whispers of "I bet they take us to jail", and "I wonder what they're going to do to us". Then one of the policemen ask one of the elders "where do you boys live"? The second oldest elder then replied by telling them what our address was. I remember well the short ride back to our home. The police car drove into our driveway, stopped, then one of them got out, went to the door and knocked. After waiting for what seemed to be several hours my Dad came to the door. The conversation went something like this. Policeman: Sir, do you have some young boys? My Dad: Yes, we do. Policeman: Do you know where they are? My Dad: Yes, they're asleep in that house right there (indicating the house we'd been in). It was at that moment in time that my Dad happened to look at the police car and saw four little heads in the back seat. The policeman waved to his partner and we were told to unload and go to the house we were living in. I remember a sense of dread as I walked toward where my Dad was standing in the doorway. My two brothers went first, and as they walked into the house they were picked up and very soundly spanked. I had hopes that since I was so young that I'd be spared, but alas, it wasn't to be so. As I walked into the house I too was unceremoniously picked up and soundly spanked. The oldest elder, thinking that since he was only a cousin he'd escape the punishment, stood outside and laughed under his breath. As he approached the door though, he too was picked up and very soundly spanked. I've thought since that it was ironic because he also got a spanking from his Dad the next afternoon. There you have the story of the night on the city of Ft. Lauderdale in the year of our Lord Nineteen fifty three. Now, since the story is told, and you've read it and hopefully enjoyed it, I'm off to bed. Goodnight all. ............And so it went.............

The observations of an experienced American.

Good Evening everyone and welcome to another post of this blog. I decided when I started this blog that I would keep politics completely out of it, but have decided to make an exception. I wonder sometime if our form of government is still "of the people, by the people and for the people." It seems to me that 'politics as usual' has eroded the way of life that most Americans remember and used to enjoy. Politicians, it seems as a whole, has completely lost touch with Americans and their values. The very politicians we elect bend over backward to thrust liberal judges on us regardless of what the majority want. Our elected officials do so little as to be totally useless in the capacity in which they're supposed to be serving. To cite a few examples, our borders (especially the southern one) is a raw and open sore that makes the average American nauseous. The laws those politicians pass they refuse to enforce which makes them as useless as the politicians themselves. Another example is loyalty by certain officials to party politics. They seem to be more loyal to their own mind set and personal interests than they are to the welfare and well being of the country to which they owe so very much. To name names I'd have to start with the names of Kerry and Murtha. Two veterans which are a disgrace to the uniforms they wore. I wish it's wasn't known that they had served in the military. They are so intent on their own interests that they are willing to dishonor the President of the United States. To go a bit further, we had a President that was unwilling to serve in the military of which He became commander in chief. A man that openly dodged the draft when so many willingly left the life they knew to serve and are left to live with the scars. That I call cowardice. A man too that disgraced the oval office while the rest of the world laughed at him and us. Ok, I'll hush on the subject after making one observation. If the United States of America were a person it would take decades of therapy to bring a degree of health back to it. I now promise that this will be the one and only post of a political nature on this blog. Please forgive me but I feel strongly that this all needed to be said. We can take heart though. The God which so many are trying so hard to expel completely from our country stands with the ones that stand with and for him. He will never forsake us, so take heart. .........And so it goes...........

The party guy.......

Good morning all and welcome to the world of Mike. Such an exciting world it is too! Today, I was 'the' party guy'. Ellas and Gracie had their birthday party today and I was fortunate and privledged to attend. What a joy to see them and their siblings and most of their young friends enjoying themselves. If one likes to party, one needs watch the single digit people. Those little ones really know how to party. ( :-D ) It's amazing how much fun can be had from balloons. Popping them, blowing them up and then letting them go and watching them fly across the room, throwing them at each other. The list goes on. I had the opportunity to have my face painted by my ten year old granddaughter, Maggie, and my three year old grandson Brody. Maggie is quite the artist and I was very impressed with her work. Brody, on the other hand, was very intense and passionate with his work. He isn't talented in the arts though. ( :-D ) After the party was over we (Kim, Crissy and I) cleaned up then I took Ellas and Gracie to Walmart so they could pick out their birthday presents from me. Gracie chose a "Barbie" set that included a 'cell phone', purse, compact and something else that I don't remember. Ellas chose a star wars character set that included two figures of Darth Vader and three other characters I wasn't familar with. Ok, I'll stop with this story, but it was a very special day from start to the final finish. I know that sounds redundant but I like the way it sounds. ( :-D ) Since it's two in the morning I think I'll end this particular post and retire for the night, or what's left of it. ..............And so it goes...........

Checking in once more after a sabbatical

Good evening all. I'm back on again after taking a time away from blogger. Just wanted to take a break from some things. Blogging was one of them. I don't suppose many missed me, but for those that did, thanks. ( :-D )
I'm going to, in this short post, pose a question for meditation. Just something to think about, and here it is......Which is most important and helpful, to find the correct answers or to find the right questions? Think about it ......... And so it goes.

How the lieutenant skidded the waves....

Good evening and welcome to the world of Mike. I'm very happy to have you drop in and visit, so pull up a chair and order what you want. The drink of the evening of water, but if you want something stronger I'll add lemon. ( :-D ) At any rate, enjoy yourself. The story for this evenings post is about something that I actually witnessed. I can still see it in my minds eye as clearly as if it had just happened. When it occurred I couldn't believe my eyes and still have trouble believing it. This happened in the pacific ocean in the early seventies. (I think) The squadron I was serving in was deployed on a aircraft carrier. On that particular deployment our line officer was Lt. Jones. Let me describe Lt. Jones. He was a gung ho wannbe genius that sadly missed that aspiration. The one most impressed with Lt. Jones was Lt. Jones. Ok, Ok, enough about the star of our tale. Lt. Jones was a pilot on a A7 corsair attack aircraft. When that particular plane was built it cost about three and a half million dollars. Today's cost would be more like thirty million. What made that plane special was the top secret gear it had. (now declassified of course) Being a plane captain I had to be present on the flight deck during launch and recovery. This particular event happened during recovery. (the planes landing on the carrier) The A7 had a two glaring weaknesses, one of which I'll dwell on here. The corsair had very weak nose wheel steering, which is what is used to steer when taxiing. Of course there wasn't that much taxiing done since it was in the air most of the time. On this occasion Lt. Jones had just landed on the flight deck, raised his tailhook and started to taxi out of the way of the next plane landing. As He pushed forward on the throttle to start the plane moving the nose wheel steering jammed in the port (left) position. Since he was already on the very port side of the ship there was only one place he could go. YEP, you guessed it. Right over the side of the ship. We all stood in dumb amazement as the plane headed nose first over the side of the ship and into the depths of the pacific ocean. Now, you're all wondering at this point "what about the pilot", right? I just had an evil thought. How about I just end this story here and let you wonder.
( :-D ) Naw...I won't do that. Anyway, Lt. Jones "punched out" or deployed the ejection seat just as the plane was hitting the water and had turned upside down. The position of the plane is what saved his life, but it's also what made this so funny. As the 'rocket' from the ejection seat fired it sent him skidding across the water like a stone skidded on a pond. Imagine hearing the plane hit the water as we watched Lt. Jones skid like a rock across the waves for more than a quarter of a mile. As I remember it I can still see him bouncing off of the waves. It was, I believe, one of the funniest things I can ever recall having seen. We all just stood with mouths open for a few seconds before abruptly erupting into gales of laughter. Our thoughts at the time 'it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy'. The angel, the rescue helicopter which was always in the air during flight operations, headed out to pick him up, and successfully retrieved him from the water no worse for wear. (just very stiff, sore and embarrassed) Needless to say, we weren't allowed to discuss the event in his presence. Needless to say also, we talked about it A LOT when he wasn't around. I'm very pleased to have witnessed that but I'm also glad that he wasn't hurt seriously. .........And so it went.........

Wisdom for the wise.......

Hi again. I just finished posting and forgot to include this. It's something that occurred to me as I thought and meditated about life and how we live it. For me it was profound, and I hope it gives you something to think about it. Here it is. Today is yesterday's tomorrow! Ok, read it and contemplate. Once again .........And so it goes..........

"Ouch" He said with a smile.........

Good evening to everyone on this wonderful Saturday evening! Welcome to this post of this man's blog. I hope you enjoy it and invite you to pull up a chair and relax. Since it's a bit past the proper time for it I won't offer you one of my famous mint juleps, but do come back another time and it'll be on the menu. ( :-D )
I can tell what's going through your mind...It's "what kind of title is that"? Actually, it's one of thankfulness and celebration. As some of you know, and as the rest of you will know very shortly, I was in a head-on collision just over three years ago. (July four, two thousand and three) If you want to know the full story you'll need to go back over this blog and find the details listed in other places. In the course if the wreck I sustained twenty five broken bones, among various and sundry other injuries (which we won't go into now). The most severe being having to have a 'fake' elbow, which gives me pretty much full use of my left arm. Having said that let me say quickly that I'm very thankful for the metal elbow and consider myself blest because of it. Ok, Ok. The ground work laid, let me continue. I've been, for three years, trying to get back the stamina I used to have. The ability to do the things I would like to do without becoming so tired I couldn't function. This past week I was able, for the first time, to work a full week mostly consisting mostly of full days. I'm thrilled about it but with certain reservations. My arm is doing great. (which has been the main concern for most) The 'ouch' part of the title comes from my right knee. It is very sore and causes some pain though I'm able to do anything I want. This is, for me, a breakthrough in a comeback that has been for me a monumental achievement. Since I'm going to live till the year two thousand and fifty I have to work to stay in the best shape possible, huh? (that'll only make me 101 years old) Ok, I'll stop. Just wanted to let all of my favorite people know of my success in making a comeback. .........And so it goes.......

The rebirth of a dream.....

Good evening everyone, and thank you for taking valuable time from your lives to check out this blog. Come on in, relax and make yourself at home while you read this post. Since it's so late on a Sunday night I'll only offer you a snack, but browse around and find what you like. ( :-D )
Ok, Ok...I'll explain the title. I'm finally going to have the opportunity to began doing some traveling again. It's long been a passion of mine, taking trips to different places, seeing different things, meeting different people. Of course, sometime I make return trips when the experience of the trips warrants it. For many years I looked forward to doing a bit of traveling, but for various and sundry reasons wasn't able to do so. Now, with my children grown and independent, my finances in somewhat better shape and being alone again I have that opportunity once again. Beginning the third week of next month I'll be off to Northern Ohio and Southern Michigan. My Mom and two of her sisters are going along to visit with the sister they have close to Toledo. After staying there a couple of days I'll venture forth and do some sightseeing. I'm even (I hope) going to cross over into Canada, thus adding another country to the list of countries I've been to. I am certainly looking forward to the trip. Then, in October my brother Jerry and I are heading out to Virginia to visit with Jerry's son Jason. While there we're talking about taking a couple of days and going into D.C. and poke around there a bit. Another trip I'm looking forward to. Then, in November, I'm heading south to Jacksonville, FL. For a day or two. (with maybe a stopover in Savannah, who knows) Since I used to live in Jacksonville there is much I want to see. After that couple of day stop I'm off further south to sunny south Florida. I'm going to stay a little while with my nephew Brad and his lovely life Amanda. (I'd better clue them in to the visit, huh?) I'm betting things have changed a bit since I moved away from there in nineteen fifty eight, ya think? After that head north making stops in various places to see cousins along the way. The trip back is probably going to take three to four days. What fun!!! This is a dream I've long had, to be able to take some trips, now God has blest me with the privledge to do so. Ok, Ok! I'll stop talking about it. At least for now. You can believe this....I'm more thankful than I can say for this chance. If I were a nice guy I'd invite you along but...I'm not that nice. ( :-D ) ..........And so it goes...........

The "wannabe"

Good afternoon! Yes, I'm actually posting this in the afternoon. Ya'll come on in, pour yourself a drink, pull up a chair and have a seat. This post is about something I'd forgotten about till Kim and Crissy reminded me of it. Of course they weren't there but I'd told them the story a long time ago. Actually I recall the story once in a while but I just never thought to post it.
The setting for this story is Fort Lauderdale in or around the year of our Lord nineteen fifty three. I was at the time about four years old of course. Being pre-school and having two older brothers, school was for me a mystery. I could hardly wait till I was able to 'go to school'. Most every morning I accompanied Jerry and Dennis (the older brothers) for a couple of blocks as they started their walk to school. I was allowed to go as far as their first street crossing. When we arrived at that particular crossing Jerry and Dennis had to wait till the crossing guard found a break in traffic and stopped the cars. When they began to cross the street I returned home. In the mind of that four year old boy the job of crossing guard was the ultimate in jobs. It was fascinating to see the man step into the street, hold up his hands toward the oncoming cars, then watch the traffic come to a slow and smooth stop. He then would step back onto the sidewalk and "allow" the cars to start moving again. Wow! What a guy to have the 'ability' to do that. To that young mind it was almost supernatural. Therefore, on one weekend day, I left my house with a mission in mind. The house we lived in was set back off of the street a bit, so I walked up the driveway to the street, stopped and waited on a break in traffic. Then the four year old calmly stepped out into the street and held up his arms toward the oncoming cars and BEHOLD, the cars all stopped, though not as smoothly as I'd hoped. (there was a lot of screeching of tires) As I stood there (though a bit disappointed at all the noise) I was completely gratified by the 'power' I had to stop the traffic. While standing there with my arms still outstretched I was very suddenly and very rudely yanked straight up into the air. In my twisting and squirming I'd caught a glimpse of my Dad holding me up by one arm. To steal a line from "Winnie the Pooh" His face was like a black rain cloud. It was at that point that I figured out that I was in very big trouble. I've mentioned that our house was set back off of the road, but I didn't realize just how far till I started getting spanked the whole way back. I didn't understand what all of the 'fuss' was about at that time, but figured it out later when I saw how dangerous it was. I can only imagine the fear that must have gripped the heart of my father when he saw me standing there with traffic stopped and a big smile on my face. Thus were the adventures of a very young "wannabe" crossing guard. ..........And so it went.........

The shadow of a.....Life!

Good evening and thank you for stopping by. I'm happy to see you. Grab a seat and I'll fix you something to eat. (yes, I'm a good cook) Now just enjoy your meal as you read this post. ( :-D )
Something was said to me a couple of days ago that started me thinking. I don't particularly agree with what was said but I was very flattered to have it said to me. The line of thought the statement provoked was this: How big is the shadow that I cast? A funny thing to wonder, huh? By that I mean, as I go about my life day by day what do I leave in my wake? (a wake, for those that might not know, is the trail left behind a ship) Does what I leave behind me make life a little brighter for the persons left there? Whether we know it or not we all make a difference in our world. Maybe the difference is subtle, maybe it's very visible. I was working at the professional building of a hospital today and decided I was going to give everyone I met a smile and a polite "Hi" or "Hello". I was pleasantly surprised with the response. Even though there were things that didn't go well, and some even went downright badly, I continued my quest to smile and cause smiles. It was fun. Along with all of that I've been giving a lot of thought to my world. The questions I ask myself is: Are the people in my world better off and happier because of my being in their lives? Another one is: are the people that I see each day in whatever capacity going to remember me to any degree? Will they immediately forget me? Or will the memory of my cause a frown? Or will the memory of me bring a smile? Or will their memory of me be that of indifference? In other words, what is the size and shade of the shadow I cast in my world as I go about living my life? I shall be pondering this question for a while and have decided to ask the questions often of myself. It's a way of holding myself accountable. Can I recommend that each person that reads this do something along the same lines? Maybe we cannot change the world and how it's operated, but we can change the part of the world that makes up where we live. ..............And so it goes.............

Wrestling with.........Whatever?

Good evening. It's nine fifteen p.m. in the Heart of Dixie, sweet home Alabama. I have, it seems, survived another birthday. I suppose that's to be expected since I'm going to live till I'm one hundred and one years old. That would make my death occurring at some point after the middle of July in the year of our Lord two thousand and fifty. ( :-D ) Let me interject here that I'm looking forward to every day till that time. Ok, enough of that. Let me now relate an event that happened somewhere around the beginning of the decade of the seventies. My friend, Mike Swartz, with whom I was serving in the Navy with at the time was working in a shop in Attack Squadron eighty six. The shop He was working in was called QA. Nope, that doesn't stand for question answer. It stood for Quality Assurance. Mike's job, along with the other guys in the shop was to do periodic inspections of work performed on the aircraft to insure that the work done met the standards set by the Department of the Navy. Enough of that that though. There was in that shop with Mike a guy (I can't recall his name) that was into professional wrestling. Maybe it would be better to say that he was obsessed with it. He not only didn't believe it wasn't fake, he'd pretty much fight anyone to prove that it was absolutely real. He of course had his favorite(s) and followed each "fight" with great interested. It was also his favorite thing to talk about. Maybe that's the reason he ate lunch alone so often. ( :-D ) Anyway, I digress. This sailor one day began asking Mike to attend a wrestling match at the civic center in Jacksonville, FL. On a particular night. Maybe 'asking' isn't the right word. The better word would be badgering. After a week or so of this Mike finally told him that ok, he'd go with him but only this once. As it turned out once was all that was available. From this point on I'll relate the facts as closely as I can recall Mike's telling of them. After arriving at the civic center they entered the area in which the aforementioned match would take place. Having arrived early they obtained seats on the floor and on the aisle and about 10 rows from the ring in which the 'fights' would be held. After a wait of almost an hour the announcer finally took the microphone and announced the order of fights and the participants of said fights. Ok, to make a long post a bit shorter I'll go straight to the good part. It was about the third or fourth match that Mike's friends favorite wrestler was scheduled. This particular wrestler happened to be the "good guy" persona wrestler and badly lost the match, the "bad guy" persona winning by an landslide. Oh yeah, He won by "cheating". Mike's friend, having seeing all of this, was by the end of the match in a total rage. At that point in time the favorite was laying in the ring groaning. (chuckle chuckle) Here came the bad guy winner strutting down the aisle toward his dressing room. As he approached Mike's seat, the friend, not being able to contain himself any longer, jumped to his feet, grabbed the folding chair in which he'd been sitting, folded it and hit the unsuspecting 'wrestler' on the head. I know, I know. Wrestlers get hit with those chairs all the time, but this time this particular guy was hit across the forehead with the edge, not the flat part. Now, I don't want to sound bloodthirsty but blood did go everywhere. The friend was "wrestled" to the floor by security and eventually taken to jail. The wrestler, it turned out, had a severe concussion and a fractured skull. He was out of the ring for several months. Our skipper (commanding officer) had to go the next day and get his sailor out of jail. He was able to "wrestle" jurisdiction from the civil authorities and exercised discipline himself, part of which was being forbid ever going to another wrestling match as long as he was in that command. Oh the woes we bring on ourselves. Needless to say, we never let Mike or the friend live down the event. .........And so it went..........

A Celebration of life.....

Good Evening. Yep, I'm back to evening posts, at least for a little while. At least I'm posting and that's a lot. My grandson, Brendan, ask today why I hadn't been posting. I didn't know what to tell him except that I'd been extraordinarily busy with life. Some good stuff too. Very soon I'm going to begin once again taking some trips. I have a passion for traveling. I love to see new places, meet new people and experience new things. It's just plain fun. I'm thinking of buying a pull behind camper and taking some camping trips. Wow, what fun! Ok, Ok, on to something else. I did attend the funeral of my uncle as a pall bearer. It was tough but I made it through ok. Watching the grief of those attending the funeral I was reminded of just how precious life is. Whether we know it or not and admit it or not it certainly is. I find myself at this point in my life looking forward to life each morning. Looking forward to learning something, or making a new friend, or having a brand new experience, etc. Wow, what a chance to live! What a chance to impact someone's life in a positive way. What a chance to bring some happiness to the lives of those we love. After the bring of that happiness we can go about our own lives with gratitude and thankfulness for having had the opportunity. A for instance is, I had a chance to give Maggie (a granddaughter) a stereo. It wasn't a super one, it wasn't "state of the art" but it's very pretty and functions very well. Oh yeah, it has a great sound too. She is, to put it mildly, ecstatic. What a joy to me to have the opportunity to bring some happiness to a life, even though it's already filled with happiness. Anyway, enough of tooting my own horn.
My point is....Keep a vigilante lookout at those in your life for an opportunity to enrich it. Don't, in the process of life, miss the chance to do that same thing to someone you don't know and may never see or meet again. Ok, enough. Oh yeah, one more thing. I just today celebrated the thirtieth anniversary of my twenty seventh birthday. ........And so it goes......

Having the answers but not knowing the questions....

Good Afternoon. Yes, I'm actually posting this in the afternoon (a little after five pm actually). This will be a shorter post than usual so I won't offer you anything to drink but you are welcome to sit and relax.
I received some news this morning that changed some things, such as my schedule and my plans, but mostly my line of thought. My uncle (my Mom's sister's husband) passed away last night. He being quite a bit older I never knew him very well but his children and I are about the same age, thus we were playmates when we were young. I was doing ok until they ask me to be a pall bearer. Of course I'm going to. Being ask though, brought back so very many memories. I was talking to a very good friend and found myself saying that I'd been to far too many funerals in my life. The most detestable memory I have in that regard is of serving on the "firing squad". It's not what it sounds like. It's being a part of the squad that fires the twenty one gun salute. No matter how many times I did it I never got accustomed to seeing the grief of so many people. My heart would break for them.

Then I began remembering the ones that I'd called friend or family. I stopped because the list became too painful. It seems that with each funeral I lost a bit of my heart, a part of myself. Enough for now. I have to pack so I can take my Mom to her Sister's house to spend the night and be with her. As implyed by the title, I've learned some of the answers over the years I've lived, but I still don't know what the questions are. ..........And so it goes.........

P.S. .........

Good evening everyone....Just a quick update on something. I've been ask quite a bit about how my cancer screen came out last week. I received the final phone call today and am assured by all doctors involved that I have nothing to worry about. An area of concern that has to be looked at again in December, but again I'm assured that most likely it's nothing to worry about. Good news, huh? Anyway....please carry on, just wanted to let everyone know now that I 've heard from the last test. .........and so it goes..........

One thousand and ninety five days ago.........

Good afternoon to the multitude of faithful readers out there. I'd invite you all for a cook out today but that would mean that I would actually have to cook out. ( :-D ) Instead, I'll offer you something to drink while you read this post. I have milk, chocolate milk, tea and wine. The other stuff I won't mention here.
I know you're all thinking "what an odd title". I'm referring of course to the title of this post. It was that many days ago exactly that we were in a car accident. Actually the exact time was 12:10 pm. I'll recount some of the events as they've been related to me. It was at that time that an elderly gentleman (I won't mention his name) while in the process of having a heart attack crossed over the center line and into the lane in which I was driving. We hit head on. The gentleman was driving a Ford F150 pickup and we were in a Mitsubishi Galant. I'm told that we were both going about the speed limit, which was sixty miles per hour. The other driver, I'm told, was the first one air lifted because of his heart attack. He'd broken both of his legs I'm told. My wife (ex) had been struck a very hard blow to the head and consequently had to have surgery on her brain to remove some blood clots. She and I were cut from the car I'm told, a process which took about forty five minutes. Brittney (my then step daughter) had multi fractures to her face. I'm not sure that I've ever heard how she was taken to the hospital, though I think it was by ambulance. Brendan was the only one coherent I'm told and was able to give the police the information they needed. He had a broken arm, some broken ribs and numerous cuts and abrasions. Maybe some more stuff too. I don't remember all of it. My ex's granddaugher, a twenty two month old blonde cherib was killed instantly. I had, I'm told, twenty five broken bones in sundry and various places. I know my right ankle was broken, both knees, my jaw in two places, my collar bone, my left shoulder and of course my left elbow. The elbow couldn't be reconstructed so I now have a brand new metal one. I don't remember anything at all about it. Brendan does and sometimes we talk and He fills me in on some stuff. That day began an extensive hospital stay. It was after Christmas of that year that I was able to have some semblance of independence. That was, to my knowledge, my latest and hopefully last brush with Mr. Grim reaper. So when I say to people that "I'm proud to be here" I'm saying that with all sincerity. It's been said to me on numerous occasions that I'm here because God isn't finished with me. I believe that and try to live everyday accordingly. I have lots to do and am truly the most blessed man in the world. ........And so it went......

Just checking......

Good evening all. Well, I'm back to my old routine of evening posts. It's much too late to offer you anything but a sleeping pill and that you'll have to supply on your own. ( :-D ) I was ask why I hadn't posted in a while. The truth is, I'd thought of deleting my blog, then I decided against it. The truth is, I've had much too much on my mind the last couple of weeks to be able to post anything coherent. Well, coherent for you normal folks. The scary part is, it would make perfect sense to me. I've tried a few times to post something but usually just sat staring at the screen wondering how I was going to pull this off. Then I'd get discouraged and sign off. It has been a tough couple of weeks. The kind of weeks in which you feel alone even though you know you're not. I have faith though, that I'm going to get past this stuff. I have that faith because I've gotten through much worse many times. Sometimes the bad stuff just kind of gets together and gangs up on your mind. That kind of thing. On a lighter note though, I do feel better. Jerry, my brother, is spending the weekend with me and we're doing stuff together. That's fun. I'd forgotten how amazed I usually am at how much he can eat. (and he's thinner than I am) Oh well, at least He doesn't have my dazzling good looks. ( :-D ) ...........and so it goes............

Another Tribute.......

Good Morning. Yes, you read that right, I'm actually posting this in the morning. Well, it's morning where I am. Since it's morning here I won't offer you a drink, unless it's tea. Of course, as the song says, it's five o'clock somewhere so you feel free to get your own. ( :-D )
This post is in tribute to an amazing person that I've known for about eight or nine years. Her name is Kate and she's been through more in her relatively short life than most people go through in a life time. I won't go into detail without her permission but a generalized list includes cancer (four times), the loss of her Dad (with whom she had a very close relationship and admired very much), the loss of a dream that was very dear to her heart, (probably more than one dream but I know about this one). I'd better stop here with the list, but trust me when I say there is more and she came through with flying colors. But there is more! She not only prevailed over the heartache and trouble that assailed her life but has been a true encourager for me. She has truly bloomed where God planted her. Kate, my hat is off to you and you have my most heartfelt gratitude. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. .........And so it goes.........

All things considered......

Good Evening everyone. I'm so happy to have you here checking out this post. Once again you're very welcome. Pour yourself a cool drink of your choosing and enjoy.
I've started and restarted this post a couple of times. The reason is, I'm trying to figure out the best way to say what is on my heart and mind. We are, it seems, prone to make decisions about the people that come into and through our lives. Some of these folks make decisions and choices that are just plain terrible. It's not those choices I'm talking about. I'm talking about those choices and decisions that could have been better and at the same time, could have been much worse. Many of us (probably all of us, but I'm trying to be gracious here) make up our minds about those choices one way or the other. We look at the person and wonder, sometimes out loud, "how in the world could he/she have made that choice, or why in the world would he/she do something that obviously wrong"? I've been guilty of doing that. Speaking for myself, I suppose mine could be labeled as arrogance, being judgmental, and the list of labels could go on. At this point I'm going to make an educated guess that those labels I've just given myself could apply equally to most other people. The thing that made this really hit home for me is, as I was driving in Birmingham a couple of days ago I exited the freeway I was on. At the bottom of the off ramp was a lone figure standing and holding a sign. This person was dressed in very worn clothing, though the best I could tell the clothes were clean. As I got close enough to see more clearly I realized that the lone figure was a lady. She seemed to be in her thirties. Her sign read, "I'm homeless. Please help if you can". I don't know whether or not she was being truthful or not in her endeavor to obtain some money. I do know this however! She is a person created by a loving God. That same God loves her equally as much as He does anyone on the planet, past, present or future. It occurred to me then that I would never know or understand what led her to that street corner holding a sign. I wondered what kind of homelife she'd had growing up? What was her childhood like, and what was her adolescence like. What were the life experiences that had left, at best, memories and at worst, scars. How would the choices and decisions been different had she had a healthy upbringing. ( I'm assuming here that she didn't ) I knew at that moment that for me to make an assessment of her current lifestyle was arrogant and judgmental. The fact is, in any number of people I see and interact with everyday, I do not know what's in their past that cause them to act and react the way they do. I do not know why they make the choices they make. Sometime I smugly make the assumption that I would never do that, or that I would make a better choice. The fact is, all things considered, I would probably make the same if not worse choice, if I'd walked the very same road taken by that person. You see, we can never claim to have taken the same road that someone else has taken. We don't have the same experiences in life, and that alone negates our having taken the very same road. Something I remind myself of from time to time. "There, but for the Grace of God, goes I"! Having said all of that, let me adknowledge that I've made my full share of bad choices and bad decisions, and I'll go out on a limb here, so has everyone else. The moral of this post is this. As you walk through your day from now on, work on being as gracious as you can be. Remember as you go through your day that when you make a less than good choice someone might be saying, "I could have made a better decision". So, when tempted to make a condescending comment, or even have a condescending thought about someone, stop and pause, then know that they may have just made the best choice they could have based on what they've been taught in life. In short, try extending grace to them. ..........And so it goes..........

A quick apology....

As the post title says...a quick apology for the absence of a post for so long. The truth is, I've had Pneumonia. I'm not sure how bad a case it was but the medicine I took/take makes me feel so bad I mostly don't feel like being on the computer much. I go back to the Doctor on Monday afternoon and hope to hear the words 'home' and 'cured' used in the same sentence. I have several things to post about when I feel better and believe they'll be worth the wait. Goodnight all.......

Shake well..Then run like @#$%^&* (everything)

Good Evening. I'm happy to have you giving your attention to this blog tonight. Pull up a chair and order whatever drink you prefer, then relax and enjoy. I want to say while you're getting all of that done that the post for tonight really happened. Just a bit of a prelude. This post has been a bit of time coming. It's been in the making for a while in the form of a draft, but I do have a good excuse. Well...Good to me. I've been too busy and lately been sick. I go to the Doctor Monday, but I suspect I have some form of Pneumonia. I'll keep you updated if you like. Ok, on to this man's post and I hope you enjoy it. It still brings a smile to my lips after all these years.
These events took place in Jacksonville, Florida in the year of, well, I'm not sure of the year but it was somewhere around the late sixties and the early seventies. I was new in the Navy and very brand new in Attack Squadron eighty six at Naval Air Station (NAS) Cecil Field. As the newest guy in the squadron I was, of course, assigned the lowest job available. That was running the coffee mess. For those unfamiliar with Navy terminology the "mess" was where coffee and soft drinks and goody snacks were available all day. (it wasn't really a mess, I kept it clean) My job was to keep the coffee made, available and drinkable. (well, as drinkable as possible) In the course of my day I saw, got acquainted with and made friends with most of the guys.

Most I liked immediately, some took some time to get to know. One character I remember, I don't remember his name, (and don't really want to) was, how do I put this gently, crass, uncouth, smart aleck and just generally abrasive. I dreaded to see him coming. I was at that time an E3 and He was an E6, quite a bit higher up. But I digress from my tale. One day I'd stocked some Ritz colas in the fridge. For those not familiar with Ritz cola, it was at the time the store brand of a major grocery chain and very cheap. They were about ninety percent fizz and ten percent something else. At any rate, that particular day I'd stocked the fridge full of them. As luck would have it, here came everyone's favorite guy. He'd already been by and gotten a ritz a couple of times, so I figured he'd want another. I removed one from the fridge to have it ready. Just before he got to me someone called his name and he turned around to talk to ever who it was. It was at that moment in time I had a flash of brilliance. As his back was turned I began vigorously shaking his ritz drink. I even dropped it on the deck a few times to get it good and agitatedly. As if on cue he turned and came to my counter and as I'd figured he ordered a ritz cola (which I gladly served). He tossed me the nickel for the drink and turned to walk outside from the hanger we were in. As he opened the door a lieutenant was coming into the hanger. The E6 stepped aside for the officer and as he waited for him to enter he popped the top on the now explosive can of cola. I bet you've guessed the rest. As the Lieutenant stepped inside, the cola sprayed it's entire contents on him from his head to his toes. Not much of the Lieutenant's uniform escaped complete saturation. Needless to say, both men were totally speechless for a moment. The E6 began by stuttering. The Lieutenant started out with a couple of expletives and it digressed from there. I on the other hand was quite speechless for awhile, not that the mirth of the situation escaped me. I just knew better than to let on I knew anything at all. I therefore put on my very best look of innocence. I should have gotten an Oscar for it. When news of the mishap traveled around the squadron I was congratulated by almost everyone, though I still maintained my innocence. (that was an act of self preservation) I later was remorseful. The E6 was later disabled from a mistake made by someone else on the flight deck, and was medically discharged from the Navy. The moral of this story is, if you ever have a chance to shake a ritz cola, shake and run. .......and so it went.......

In Memoriam.......

Good Afternoon and welcome to my blog. Actually it's not my blog as much as it is yours, since I don't really write this for myself. Well, maybe I do some. Sometimes it's just good to get some things out of my head and heart. At any rate, make yourselves comfortable and have a drink.(you'll have to supply your own this time)
I've had on my mind for a couple of days the reason(s) for Memorial day. First of all, I'm glad that we have a day set aside for this specific purpose. It's brought to my mind the reason that Congress set this day aside, to honor those that have given their lives in service of their country. Given their lives not only in death but in other ways that are mostly permanent and very painful. In the process of trying to think these things through and make some sense of it I've come to some conclusions. Maybe they're good conclusions maybe they're not so good but they are the best I have come up with so far. I've thought back over the last thirty four years trying to make sense of my memories. As I recall those years I remember three basic categories of those people with which I served. I write this at the risk of oversimplifying for there is no simply way to view this. I've seen over those years guys and gals that live with memories they can't live with. Maybe that doesn't make much sense but there it is. Waking up because of nightmares of other times and other places. Waking in those times huddling under their bedcovers, shaking, in a panic and wet with sweat from a cold body. Depression too debilitating to be able to function well at times. Those guys and gals have to be remembered in a special way. They deserve all of the support and more that can be given. Then there are those that didn't have the chance to come home. Guys and gals that went to somewhere that till then was only a name in a history book or an encyclopedia. A place that most of us had never heard of and knew almost nothing about. Places like France, Italy, Germany, Okinawa, Tarawa, Iwo Jimo, Korea and yes, even Viet Nam. Now we can add to this list a far off place called Iraq. The list goes on and on seemingly without end. We could all put names on that list because we all have lost someone at those places. People that we remember personally and people we've only heard about from other loved ones. These are the real heros of the wars that we remember on Memorial day. The third group I remember are the ones that went to those far off places and came home to pick up lives the best they could. As I today walked through a cemetary I took notice of each grave that displayed an American flag. It occured to me that for every grave so marked there were people that had lived many years without a husband, wife, father, mother, son, daughter, brother and sister to laugh and cry with. People that had faced life without the support that could have and should have been provided by that person in the grave. How many lives, I wondered, were changed because of the death of that loved one. Too many to count! At church today those in attendance were recognized for their service to the branch of service they were in. Those in attendance aren't the real heros. T'he real heros are those that didn't come home and those that did and still work hard to live with what they saw and experienced.
Enough. I think I'll start tomorrow calling those buddies that are left to me, but first I think I'll go now and have a good cry. ........and so it went and so it goes........

Departures (3rd in the series)

Good Afternoon all. It's Sunday and I've reached a goal. I've lived through one week and started another. Hooray for me! It was a good but busy week and I'm looking forward to this coming week. Lots to do and lots of people to help, but much joy in the process of living. Yea! For life and living. I'm continuing a theme of posting that I'd abandoned for quite a while. It has been a week of contemplation for me. Last Friday (the 19th) marked eighteen years since my Dad's death. I happened to drive by the hospital He was in when He died and began to remember the last occasion I had to see him and spend time with him. We all knew his death was imminent but that didn't take away the sting of losing him. I never seem to go through a day that I don't consciously recall something or many somthings that he taught me, either by deliberate teaching or simply by example. Let me simply say here that there is nothing I could say to give him the Honor he deserves. I didn't know the last time I spent time with him that it would be our last departure. It's probably a good thing too because I don't believe I could have left his bedside. The afternoon He passed away I was supposed to spend the night at his side taking care of him. I wish I'd had the opportunity to go. It's one of two of the sadest departure I can ever recall in my life. The other I'll talk more about later. ........and so it went......

Huge laughs from a fragile barricade....

Good Morning all. I'm staying up late tonight to post this. I suppose I'm still feeling a bit guilty for there being such a long time span between the last posts. ( :-D ) anyway, here I am to tell another of our endless line of escapades from many years ago.
We would, from time to time, get together to come up with ways to make hearts beat faster in our community. (we being some of us guys in the area) Let me quickly interject here that we always were careful to never cause property, financial or personal damages. This particular act required a few things. One, a dark night. Two, no breeze or wind. When things were right with nature we'd select a semi steep hill on a road in the community. We'd then get busy erecting the "barricade". Having the conditions right and the material needed we'd get busy. First we'd put a waist high stake on either side of the road. Then we'd begin wrapping toilet paper from one stake to the other, around and around. After a few minutes we'd step back and admire our handiwork. All that was needed then was to spray some red paint lines on the toilet paper and set back and wait for an unsuspecting driver. When we'd see someone coming we'd get back off of the road a little way, lay down on the ground and watch the action. As the poor driver topped the hill there was the barricade and of course he/she would hit the brakes hard. I can't count the number of drivers that we watched slide, wheels locked, through the "barricade". After stopping they'd get out of the car, shake a bit, get mad (change their pants) then drive away. At this point we would all howl with laughter. I can't count the number of times we'd do this. Looking back over the years I can't seem to recall why it was so funny. I'm thinking maybe it was the result of hormones (you know those sneaky things that course through our bloodstream). Anyway, it was always great fun, at least for those laying in wait. I can't speak for the 'victims', having never been one. Oh, the "joys" of youth. I wonder how we ever survive it. ..........And so it went............

How to be the best frog possible....

Good Evening. I can see you all sitting and waiting in great anticipation for this post. I acknowledge that it's a few days late and I apologize all the way from my toes.
Let me first update everyone on my friend Pete. I went Saturday and cut his lawn, etc. He is indeed home from the hospital and doing very well. He's had very few problems but his family is having quite a difficult time. The difficulty comes with Pete. He doesn't want to stay still. They're having to watch him because He wants to get up and do things. He is allowed to walk but with a walker. If he's out of sight though He'll pick up his walker and carry it. He is quite a character and a wonderful friend, both to me and in years past to my Dad.
Ok, for those out there that aspire to be a frog I'm going to give you some input. Let me first acknowledge that we all from time to time tend to have frogy tendencies. This isn't for you. It's for those that are lifelong frogs. This list could go on for quite a long time, so I'll just hit a few now and cover more later. Let's start with a characteristic that is quite prevailent in todays world. It's called 'selfishness'. The dictionary defines selfish as " an act of total regard for one's own desires to the exclusion of what others want". To carry this a bit further, a selfish lifestyle is " to be consumed with one's own wants and desires while being completely unconcerned with the needs of others". Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is a giant step toward complete frogdom. There are, of course, other attributes that go toward the making of a perfect frog. Those we'll get into later. The flipside of that is to be looking as we go through life for those around us that have needs. Not only looking for them but reaching out to them in whatever way we can. Let me say here, that if that's the way you do things you are not a good frog. Now a word to those that have a frog in their lives in some capacity or other. Just as physically kissing a green toad will not turn it into a prince/princess, neither will figuritively kissing a 'frog' turn him/her into anything other than what they choose to be. Now a question for you to ponder for a while. Can one truly be a Christian and at the same time be a frog? I have another question but I'll save it for later. For those frogs out there reading this I will tell you that there is a way to change from your 'frogginess' to something infinately better. To find that out though, you're gonna have truly want to know the answer. ...........and so it goes.........

""MAY"" we have Christmas please?

A good evening to all. A hearty welcome. Have a seat and place your order. It'll be ready soon then you can enjoy it while reading this post. The post for today is somewhat unbelievable but I promise it's the truth. I could hardly believe it and I saw it with my own two bleary and bloodshot eyes. ( :-D ) I can see the curiosity mounting in most of you, therefore I'll get right to the topic before a riot ensues. We have, in the neighborhood in which I live, something which occurs most everyday. We have driving through our streets a lady driving a ice cream truck. I know at this point most if not all of you are wondering what's such a big deal about that. The funny part is that as she drives through she plays over her loud speaker system Christmas carols. The first time I heard it I started counting on my fingers to make sure it wasn't December. I knew if it was I'd missed most of two thousand and six. Imagine my relief when I figured out that it was indeed the month of May. The second time she came through playing the same Christmas carols I decided that I had to have credible witnesses so everyone wouldn't think I was crazy, even though the subject on my craziness is open for debate. ( I'm told that the jury is still out on that ) So on the spot I made a phone call to my CW's (credible witnesses). Let me say here that some may disagree with my choices but to that I say...Well...You may be right. I called Kim and Crissy, got them on my cell phone, waited till the ice cream lady came back down the street, put my cell phone on speaker, held it up in the air and sure enough, they heard it. When they confirmed that they had indeed heard it relief flooded through my body. I suddenly felt that all was right with the world. I wasn't crazy. (at least in my own mind) I'd like to suggest that all reading this post make it a point to come here and see it for yourself. Let me here list the songs that have been so far played. 1) Frosty the snowman. 2) The twelve days of Christmas. 3) The little drummer boy. 4) Silent night. 5) Winter wonderland. 6) The one about chestnuts roasting on an open fire (I don't remember the title of that one). There are some others but I can't recall all of them right now. I'm thinking of beginning soon to charge per carload for people to come and see/hear this so come soon so you can beat the crowd. I'm thinking that this will maybe make our property values go up, but then, who knows? ........And so it goes.........

More on the Frog epidemic.....

Good Evening everyone and welcome once again to this blog. I've had a few inquiries about the mint juleps so I've added Sam's cola to the menu. So, pull up a chair and enjoy. ( :-D )
A quick observation on the frogs of this world. I've known many frogs in my lifetime and have come to this conclusion. No matter how much a frog is kissed it never turns into a prince/princess. Ok...Now on to another item on the frog culture.
There is something that all frogs lack in their lives. That something is spoken of in Holy Scripture. Sadly we don't hear the word that denotes it used very often in our culture. It is something that can make a huge difference in the lives of those that we come in contact with, but especially in the lives of our friends and family. Ok, ok....The word. It's compassion. I've been surprised at how few people even know what it is. I would like to suggest that we all do a bit of digging into it's meaning. It is a very precious quality to have in any life. The absence of it is most often because of an acute amount of selfishness. We humans are often so focused on ourselves and our own world that we lose sight of the people around us. We often walk right by people that are in need and, yes, even pain. A couple of reasons we don't see those needs in others is because 1) we don't/can't slow down enough to look and 2) we stay intently focused on ourselves and our world. Let me encourage all that is reading this to look outside of ourselves and our little part of the world. Let us learn to recognize those that have a need then make ourselves a part of the solution as far as is possible. Said another way...Let's stop kissing the frogs we know in order to make them less ugly and look to making ourselves more attuned to those of God's creations that have needs and pain, and that He's put in our paths. With that I'll say goodnight.... .........And so it goes..........

My friend Pete....

A cheery good evening to everyone. Welcome and relax while I whip up some more mint juleps. A short post tonight about a friend of mine. His name is Pete ( but I bet you've already figured that out, huh ) Pete is now eighty four and is going into the hospital in the morning for his second colon cancer surgery in two years. Needless to say, he's scared. He and I have a bit of a history. When he was a younger man (actually before I was born) He and my Dad played semi-pro baseball on the same team. That was before the time of the professional team owners having 'farm teams'. From what Pete says, the only thing that kept both of them out of the pros was world war II. I suppose that changed a lot of plans of a lot of people. Anyway, back to Pete. His wife, Charlene is her name, has the beginning stages of alzheimers. Pete has three children that can and will look after Charlene but he had no one to take care of his lawn. To make a long story short, I'll be taking care of things for him. Let me say at this point that it's an honor for him to ask that of me and I'm honored and privledged to have the opportunity. I'll post more on Pete when I hear how things went. .........And so it goes.........

The legend of Shorty......

Good Evening all, and thank you for stopping by. Pull up a chair and relax while I fix you all a mint julep. ( :-D ) After that you can read this post and hopefully have a good chuckle at Shorty's expense. Believe me when I say that He won't mind, since He passed away many years ago.
This story takes place in rural Alabama in the late nineteen thirties or early nineteen forties. It was toward the end of the depression years, or maybe immediately after the depression. TVA ( Tennessee valley authority ) had been started by FDR as one of the measures to stop the depression and put people to work and was beginning to supply electricity to the rural areas where it hadn't been available before. Ok..The history lesson over let me get on to Shorty. Shorty was, at the time that this took place, past middle age. When TVA began to put poles in the ground and run wire on them to carry the electricity they started contacting people to offer electric service When Shorty was contacted he adamantly refused. He didn't like the idea of that kind of change and didn't trust anything the government had a part in. That was a common sentiment at the time nationwide. Anyway...Back to Shorty. After a while though, after visiting some neighbors that had tied into the electrical service and listening to his wife, He decided to try it out. After finding out how much it cost he again refused. Finally though, he came up with a brilliant idea. He'd watched the men as they handled the wire and had seen how they'd tied it all together. His idea was, if they could do it so could he. That was probably the worst idea he'd ever had. Shorty didn't want outlets, didn't see a need for them, so he ran the wire for overhead lights. After completing that task He ran a wire from his house all the way to the closest power pole. Yep, you guessed it. Up the pole Shorty shimmied till he came to the closest wire to which he attached one of his two wires. No problem so far. Down the pole he shimmied, back to the ground, whereupon he commenced to hook up the ground wire to the grounding rod. That, my friends, is where the fireworks began. What Shorty didn't know was that a transformer was required. He'd just hooked up his sixty watt lights to seven thousand volts. You read right. Seven thousand volts. A bit too much when one hundred and ten volts are what is required, huh? Shorty stood and watched all of the wire he'd just put in spark and fizzle till it burned completely into. He was fortunate in two ways though. First, he'd hooked up the ground last. If he'd hooked it up first he'd have been fried at the top of the pole. Second, the wire in his house burned up before catching his house on fire. Bless Shorty's heart. Shorty lived until the early nineteen sixties, having never gotten over his anger at the power company and having never had electricity in his house. From that point on he just didn't trust electricity. After his death though, his wife did have the house wired and properly tied in. She enjoyed having the convenience of electrical power till her death in the early nineteen seventies. Nineteen seventy one I believe it was. The moral of this story is......Well, I don't know what the moral of this story is so I'll let you pick out your own. ..........And so it went..........

My Hero......

Good Evening all....Once again I say thanks for taking the time to read this post. I'm very glad you're here. This will be a short post because it's about someone I've posted about already. Today is my Dad's birthday and if he were alive, He'd be eighty three years old. He was born in the year of our Lord nineteen twenty two. I went by his grave today and once again paid homage to a great man and a wonderful father. Since losing him to cancer in May nineteen eighty eight I've not lived a day without thinking of him and something he taught me. What does one say about someone that has had that much of a positive impact on so very many lives, and especially mine. Suffice it to say "I miss you Dad. Thank you for being you!" .......and so it went.......

Connecting the Frogs....I mean dots.

Good Evening. A short post here to provide an explanation for something. I was ask the connection between the title of the last post and the post itself. Here is that explanation. It is the opinion and belief of this writer that being a frog is the result of being a selfish, insensitive taker. Someone that takes and takes without giving back. Someone that is out for him/her self to the point of narcissism. That, my friends, is a frog. Turning from a frog to a prince/princess requires first of all the knowledge that a change is needed. Second of all the desire and will to work at making the changes required. Third of all it requires perseverance, or put another way, the will to stay at it till the task is finished. More later on the metamorphosis from reptile to kind and gentle human. .......And so it goes........

Learning how to not be a Frog.......

Good Evening. I'm pleased and happy that you've taken time from your busy life to drop in and catch up on the latest in this man's blog. I sincerely hope that when you finish reading you're life will have been made somehow better. Without further ado let us get to it.
I was thinking today about the learning process that I embarked on years ago as a child. Some of those things learned are numerous and are imperative to living life. They include things we rarely give thought to, such as potty training, tying shoes, table manners and the list goes on and on. This blog isn't about those things. Yes, we do take them for granted and yes, they are important. The things I'm speaking of though seem to be sorely lacking in the lives of many people of both genders. Things such as knowing how to Love as unconditionally as is humanly possible. Also things like how to be respectful to others and, yes, even ourselves. Another thing is trust. Wow! Let's dwell briefly on these things before we move on to another. Love, Respect and Trust. How we all desire those in our lives, both to give and to receive. They are an essential in any healthy relationship. That of parent to child, sibling to sibling, friend to friend and of course, spouse to spouse, and that list goes on and on almost to infinity. The lack of one or more of these are the reason for the end of every most marriages and/or relationship. You see, most if not all of us only focus on only half of the equation. (wow, now I'm sounding like a mathematician) We are each, of course, responsible for giving those things in the appropriate time and way, but our part is certainly not finished there. It is also up to us to make it possible, and yes, even easier for those around us to give the Love, Respect and Trust. If our live style makes it hard for others to be loving, respectful and trusting toward us then we're missing the mark and making it harder on those in our lives. So, the question we should ask ourselves is not only am I loving, respectful and trusting, but do I make it the easiest I can for those in my life to give me those things? Is it a hard work for them to give those things to me? Am I gracious in the giving and receiving of them? These are questions we can all ask ourselves regularly, and not only ourselves but those in our lives. O.K. An end of this post. I appriciate your patience in waiting for me to post this. I know some have been sitting for days in front of your computer screen waiting. Just a little joke. (very little) ......and so it goes........

I'm back...Well, what's left of me is.

Good Morning to everyone. Some of you may have been wondering just where I've been. Just in case that you have I'll tell you. My Mom has been in the hospital. She starting running an extremely high fever. Well...high for someone that's eighty one. After taking her to the hospital and getting her admitted, talking to the Doctor and hearing about the test results, finding out that she had a kidney infection as well as having a bad case of pneumonia, I began feeling...well...very ill. I called my neice to come stay with my Mom and I came home. To say I was sick is an understatement. Suffice it to say that I lost fifteen pounds in one very long and very horrible day. I'm much better now, only tired and run down. The greatest thing though, is I brought my Mom home from the hospital this morning. My main task now is keeping her indoors for a few days while the antibiotics finish their job. That, let me say quickly, will be a full time job for a man alone. You may be asking yourself about now why I'm telling you all of this. It's to say that I'm back and I survived a really tough several days. Look for another post in a couple of days. .......and so it went......

A tidbit of wisdom......Three.

Good Evening all. It's a bit past my bedtime so this will be shorter than usual. I appreciate you're coming to this blog and taking the time to read it. I hope this particular post causes thought.
This post is about something that is, I fear, dying as an ability. It's something that we absolutely must have to survive in today's world. It can make our relationships good, while at the same time it's absence can ruin the best and strongest of relationships. What, you ask, is so essential to life? What, you ask, is so missing in our culture? Ok, Ok, I'll tell you. It's the art (or is it a science) of listening. In my humble opinion it's absence causes more problems in relationships than any other single thing. If we all could listen as well as we could talk just think what a difference there would be in our lives, and yes, even in our world. I have in my meditating about this come to a couple of ideas about it. Reasons we (as a people) don't listen well? [one] We put too much time and effort into trying to convince ourselves and others that we have value, or put another way, trying to have a better self-esteem. That requires that we spend a lot of time talking about ourselves and what we know and feel. [two] We don't place enough value on what those around us say. We spend so much time comparing ourselves to others in so many ways that we, as a consequence, don't have the time to stop and listen to those in our lives. [three] Most of us never slow down long enough to really consider the extreme importance of listening. How many times has someone ask us "did you hear what I said"? The same question better put would be "did you listen to what I said"? We can, and usually do, hear things without really listening. So often our minds are full of other thoughts when we should be listening. How do we improve listening skills you ask? One way is to give the person you're communicating with your complete attention. Try to keep your mind on what they say and how they say it. Another way is to realize that those in our lives (well, most of them) really do have valid points of view, and we could learn a lot from them. Simply put, give value to those that are talking to us. I write this at the risk of over simplifying, but I believe that it is something that we need to address in ourselves. Ok, enough. I'm off to bed. ...........And so it goes.........

In search of a proper tribute.......

Good Evening and welcome to this blog once again. I'm honored and flattered that you would chose to come. Please make yourselves at home and feel free to comment whatever is on your heart and mind. This Evening I'm going to speak a bit about something that is very close to my heart. I have an Aunt that is ninety four years old. Her name is Dicie and she was born on January third in the year of our Lord Nineteen hundred and twelve. She has, of course, been a part of my life since I can remember. How do I say what I want to convey? I'm not sure but I'll give it my best effort. She is my Dad's older sister and the oldest still living. Up until a week ago she still lived alone in her own place. About a week ago she fell in her front yard while working in her flowers. Fortunately a neighbor a few yards away saw her fall and ran to give assistance. He of course called 911. They arrived quickly and took her to the emergency room about five miles away. After the tests and examination she was admitted to the hospital. Her doctor told us that her hip joint was so worn out that she'd never be able to walk again, at least very well. After she was treated for minor injuries and treated for pain she was released to a local nursing home which she will probably have to stay in. You may be asking yourself at this point why I'm posting so extensively about all of this. Let me expound. Aunt Dicie has been a large part of my life since my first memories of life. She married her deceased husband, Lee, while in her mid to late teens and they were together for almost sixty years, at which time he passed away. In my memories of her from earliest childhood my recall of her is that of kindness, gentleness and graciousness. I can never recall her speaking a cross word to anyone at anytime, though I'm sure she had her moments. She and Uncle Lee lived as newly weds through the depression of the nineteen thirties. With jobs and work so very hard to come by Uncle Lee would make a trip on foot every year from Walker County in central Alabama to Florida to help harvest the citrus crops. He did this for several years and was paid every day his wage. I seem to remember him telling me that they were paid about ten or twelve cents a day and were happy to have that. While there his diet consisted of water and crackers. After the harvest was completed He'd walk back to his home in Central Alabama. Aunt Dicie never learned to drive though she did attempt it back in the nineteen fifties. Many of the roads close to their house were still dirt and difficult to drive on so she became content to let Uncle Lee do the driving. I recall as a young child, whenever I was with Aunt Dicie she would slip me some sugar or fruit, etc. She loved children more than anyone I can remember She never did have any of her own, having tried for many years. To my knowledge she was never able to conceive and fertility doctors were years in the future. I wish I had time and space and ability to write everything I can remember about her and the extraordinary life she lived and the lives she impacted. In her later years, after the death of Uncle Lee, I was presented with the amazing good fortune of being able to live very close to her and was lucky enough to be able to watch out for her and take care of things she could no longer do. Up to year before last she still insisted on cutting her own lawn with her own push mower. She and I compromised by agreeing on a plan that would work. I'd cut her grass and she'd do the trim work. I didn't know for months that she was, at ninety two years old, going a couple of doors down to a lady that couldn't cut her grass and would cut it for her. She never did care for lawn tractors, so it really was a concession on her part to make that compromise. I was also privledged to be allowed to fix or repair whatever she had that needed it. Not wanting to be a 'nuisance' she had hired some work done and gotten ripped off. I had the honor for the last several years of her time at home to be able to not only fix things for her but to look out for her interests when she had anything done. So I ask, how do I give honor and tribute to such an extraordinary person. Whatever I say seems to me to fall so dreadfully short and inadequate. Even though she's lost her ability to walk her mind stays as sharp as it ever was, and for that I'm thankful. So, I'll simply say "thank you Aunt Dicie" for everything. Thank you for just being you. Thank you for the positive impact on, not only mine, but countless numbers of the lives you touched in ninety four years. The world would be a much better place if it had more "Aunt Dicies" in it. It's with a sad heart that I say, .......and so it went.......

That's the truth.....and I'm stickin' to it !!!!!

Good Evening everyone. Thank you for dropping by. I'm happy to have you read this, the latest post in the ongoing saga of what I call my blog. I'm assuming, of course, that you came to this blog site to actually read it. ( :-D ) Anyway, welcome! Any comments will be greatly appreciated, so fire at will. (wait, who is Will and why are we shooting at him?) Ok you groan! Enough of the levity, you cry. Alright, on to other things.
I have over the years learned a few things. One of those things is about 'Truth'. We in our society have come to believe, over the years and decades, that Truth is a relative thing. It certainly is not that. We've decided over the same time span that Truth is something that can vary. It certainly can't. We as a people treat Truth in whatever way makes us 'comfortable'. We create gameshows about it and we use it as a tool to accuire things. We use it, or a "version" of it to get what we want from life and to satisfy our desires from the world in which we live. I've come to realize over the years in this life that the truth is the one thing that will keep us sane. It's the rock that never moves or shifts on which we can confidently stand. Ok, enough of definations. One of the biggest problems that we all face is telling ourselves the truth. We all have a tendency to believe what isn't the truth, especially when it involves ourselves. We grow up believing that we lack in certain ways and that it effects our value. It doesn't not! We have a tendency to believe what other people say that involves us. We grow up believing that our nose is too big, or our hair is ugly, or our face isn't attractive enough. We grow up wanting to be like someone else. If only we were prettier or more handsome. If we could only run faster. If we could only be smarter or more popular. The TRUTH is that none of those things have anything whatsoever to do with our value. The TRUTH is that we are valuable and worth a lot simply because we are human beings and are created by a Loving God ! What we tell ourselves, or don't tell ourselves, as the case may be turns out to be what we believe. What we believe, in turn, is what we base our decisions and choices in life on. That would explain for example, why so many of us make such rotten choices about so very many things. That would also explain why so many see themselves as so without value and suicidal. The science of therapy is based on, at least in part, our efforts to find out what is the real truth and work at believing that not everything that we've heard and everything we've been taught is so necessarily true. So, you may ask, where do I look for the TRUTH, and how will I know when I've found it. On that I have this to say. To be continued. You'll have to come back and read some more to find out. I'll be posting more a bit later on this same subject. I believe it will be enlightening for most if not all. .......and so it goes.....

Thinking things through.........

Good Evening All. Thank you for stopping by to check out this, the latest post in this man's blog. It's been a rather long week. I've been busier than a one armed wallpaper hanger. (maybe that fits a little too well)
A quick story about something I witnessed years ago that I still think is, well, funny. When I was on one of the aircraft carriers I served on we had a guy that used most all of his spare time fishing. I suppose one could call that the ultimate deep sea fishing trip, huh? A lot of time the the depth of the water we were in was from one to two miles deep. Sometimes more. Back to the story though. This particular guy did his fishing from the flight deck. This meant that he was fishing one hundred feet above the water and at a speed of about twenty miles per hour. One day I decided to ask him the question I'd been wondering about. The question..."If you catch a fish that weighs four hundred pounds, which certainly could happen, how are you going to get the fish all the way to the point you're fishing from, which as I have already pointed out, was a hundred feet up. Also, I ask that if he did indeed get the fish to the flight deck, which was highly unlikely, what are you going to do with it? His reply was classic. He said, "well, I'll try to figure that out when the time comes that I've caught one". It occurred to me at the time that he'd probably not thought this through very well. I wonder from time to time if he's lived his whole life using that philosophy and if so how successful he's been in his endeavors. .......and so it went.........

TAPS......

Good Afternoon all. I suppose you've all noticed by now my week long absence from this blog. The truth is, I decided to take a week off and gain some fresh perspective. Today I'd like to tell all of you about something that stays with me undiminished. I've decided to write this as it comes to my heart, simply letting the words flow from my mind to the screen.
Many years ago as I served in the Navy it was my distinct honor and unpleasant duty to serve on what we called a "firing squad". Let me quickly clarify at this point that this wasn't exactly as it sounds. It wasn't to execute someone, but to be on the picked squad to take part in the firing of the twenty one gun salute at the funeral of a veteran. It was always a bitter/sweet experience and never failed to fill me with admiration for the veteran that had passed away and great sadness that America had lost one of it's finest and bravest. I've had the honor and privilege of serving in that capacity for veterans from the first world war through the worst of the Viet Nam war. I could never describe the pain and difficulty that were a part of standing in full dress uniform, firing the three times required of the seven man squad, then listening to the sound of "TAPS", the most mournful sound on this planet. I also had the misfortune too many times to hear the same mournful tune played on the ship on which I was serving, commemorating
the loss of a shipmate. It was a sound that brought tears to the eyes of many hardened sailors that had been through long and weary hours at sea engaged in activities best left unremembered. It's also a sound that brought dread to the hearts of tough men and women that never failed to fight when fighting was required, yet a sound that brought dread to the hearts and minds of those same men and women. To so many of us the sound of TAPS signals the passing of an honored friend, or at the least, someone we didn't know personally but could relate to on a level that can't be described with words At the most, it was someone with whom we've shared our everything. That everything included our food, watching over each other as we took turns sleeping, our dreams, our pasts as we shared words with each other and the ambitions we had that included the sweethearts of which we bragged so much.
This is my small way of giving honor to those that have faced so valiantly the struggles required of freedom and given so willingly the very lives with which they were blest with by the Almighty God. And so, I stand with hat in hand and my right hand over my heart, giving a thank you to that same Almighty God for the courage and stalwart spirits with which these men and women were so greatly endowed. A thank you to God and a thank you to those that fought and a thank you to those that gave the ultimate gift for liberty. Liberty not only for those of us in the United States, but for peoples around the world that long to live in freedom and yearn for liberty. ......and so it goes.......

Making fun........

Good evening everyone. I'm happy to have you reading this post. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This post is about some experiences that involved three boys growing up. The setting is Alabama and the time line was in the early to mid sixties. It was at a time that we didn't have any crops to tend, but we did have all of the livestock on the farm to tend to. After we were caught up with taking care of the stock (cattle, horses, chickens, hogs, etc.) we'd have some time to do most anything we wanted to do. On one particular day we decided to build us a truck wagon. Now, for those that don't know exactly what a truck wagon is, I'm gonna tell you. A truck wagon is a conveyance made by using a board, usually bout four feet in length, fastening another board, this one bout three feet long, across what will be the back very solidly. Then comes another board three feet long across the front of the wagon, but this one is on a swivel of sorts. Those two three foot boards serve axles and the wheels (hopefully those are available to the builders) are secured on the ends of them using bolts through the center of the wheel. After the wheels are on, then comes the steering mechanism. That's accomplished by securing a length of rope to the front axle, one end of the rope to either end of the axle. At this point the truck wagon is ready for action and one has then to carefully select the proper hill to roll it off of. Hopefully rather steep but with a smooth enough surface to enable one to stay on the vehicle during it's usually wild descent into God only knows what. If there are too many ruts then one has to either select another hill or fill in the ruts (which requires "work" and is to be avoided at all costs). When the right hill has been selected tho....The fun begins. Then the process of selecting the first rider begins. Since the hill and the vehicle are both mostly unknowns everyone involved is filled with a bit of trepidation. So the process usually involved everyone using a coin (if one were available) or another game like rock,paper,scissors, etc. Of course, the winner (or loser) had to take the first ride. It was often thought of as the ride into oblivion. ( :-D ) I recall one time we'd constructed a good and proper truck wagon and had made the decision about the first rider. The fortunate one this time was Dennis. So, after a bit of stalling and asking for a rematch at the game, He climbed onto the conveyance, put his feet on the vehicle and we gave him a healthy shove. Away he went. It being a very steep hill he was very soon going at a maniacal speed. Though we'd smoothed the route we'd missed a small rock.
Allow me to say here, that at a lower rate of speed, the rock wouldn't have been a problem, but since Dennis was going a such a high rate of speed it became impossible to maintain proper control. I have to give Dennis credit here. He did a great job up to this point in time. Upon hitting the rock with one of the wheels the vehicle promptly swerved into the woods that were on either side of the path. Unfortunately, though, to make it into the surrounding woods he had to first go through a large patch of blackberry briars. Jerry and I ran as fast as we could to make sure he was ok, but when we got there and saw him come trudging out of the woods we could only laugh. He looked like he'd been fighting 30 wildcats at once. He was scratched from his head to his toes and was boiling mad. Of course, the more mad he became the more we laughed and the more we laughed the more mad he became. At this point we all headed for home to try to put him back together. I wish I could better describe his condition but suffice it to say that there wasn't but a few places unscathed. After a few days of healing we all headed back to the scene and checked on the truck wagon, finding it in rather good condition. So Dennis, full of determination and not allowing the accident to deter him, got back on the truck wagon and headed back down the hill. This time he made it all the way to the bottom. I remember his descent well....His hair blowing back in the wind. I was proud of him for not allowing the hill to beat him and I, at that point, learned a valuable lesson about life. And one that I've never forgotten. To Dennis, it was him against the hill, and he'd never allow himself to be beaten without first doing everything he could to be a success. Thank you Dennis, for that valuable lesson. ............And so it went..........

A tidbit of wisdom......Two

Hello and welcome. If you're reading this I'd like to say that I appreciate it and invite you back at your earliest convenience. This post will be short and will involve only one bit of something I've learned on my way to this point in life. One difference between a wise person and a foolish person is: The wise person knows deep within their heart that being merciful and gracious to those around them will not only make an impact on other people. The biggest impact is made on the person extending the mercy and grace to others. The foolish person, on the other hand, never knows nor stops to see the negative impact their selfishness has on those around them, whether it's a stranger or a loved one. That, my wonderful friends, is the tidbit of wisdom for today. .........And so it goes...........

And darkness was on the face of the deep...........

Good evening all, and thank you for being so kind and patient. I'm back as you all can so plainly see. Tonight's posts setting was in July and August of Nineteen ninety nine. Life was challenging and I was struggling. Among other things I'd begun to have some health problems. Some of the problems included periodic times of an extremely high fever, pain in my abdominal area,
and blood where it wasn't supposed to be. I didn't get overly concerned for a while but then things only got worse. So...I went to the Doctor to try to find out what was going on. The Doctor did some lab work, etc. Then He and I talked. I told him that I figured that it was another kidney infection since I was prone to having them and had them on and off for a long time. He and I agreed to try antibiotics for a couple of weeks and see if that helped. For a short while it did seem to help, then things started all over and was worse. Back to the Doctor I went and this time He sent me to see a urologist. The next week I showed up for my appointment with the specialist and He started doing tests. One of the tests included a sonogram that was performed there at his office. After that test He came in and said to come back next week for an MRI, that He needed a more complete look at the abdominal area. So...Next week back I came and did the MRI. By this time it was the middle of August and I was wondering what all of the fuss was about. I was figuring also that something was wrong. A couple of days after the MRI I came back to the office accompanied by Crissy and Christopher. When we were called back to his office the three of us went in, sat down and talked among ourselves while waiting for Him to come in. When He came in He sat down and looked at us silently for a moment. Then came the words I had hoped not to hear. I had cancer. Yep...My right kidney had a tumor the size of a grapefruit in it and it was malignant. He wanted to set up a surgery for as quickly as we could, then said to wait for a week and let him get another doctor to look at things with him. They then decided that from the scans they had they couldn't tell if it had spread. At the moment I was told that I had cancer it seemed that time slowed down to a crawl. It was very surreal, like I as looking on as an observer. The surgery was set up for two weeks later and those two weeks were among the longest I can remember living through. It seemed that they wouldn't know if the cancer had spread until I was on the table and opened up. As I said, a very long two weeks. August 31st finally came, I was taken to the hospital at six a.m. that morning by Crissy and Christopher, went through the paperwork, put on the backward hospital gown, taken to the operating room, and the next thing I knew I was in the recovery room with what seemed like a mouthful of cotton and a huge pain in my stomach. I had lost my right kidney but was blest in that the cancer hadn't spread to any other organs. That experience is in my memory as an exceptionally difficult time, not the most difficult but definitely in the top five. I was blest also, to have someone to lean on and talk to. Someone that listened and understood. Someone that had been there and come through something similar with more courage than I thought possible. To that someone a special thank you. That's how I came to part company with my right kidney, may it rest in peace. ..........And so it went..............

Trying to be......

Good evening all. I'm having a difficult time deciding what to write on this post. Not that I have a shortage of something to write about, but because I have too much to choose from. The things I'd rather post about are at this point just too hard to think about so I'm going to stop for tonight. As blest as I am there are still things I have a difficult time with from time to time. Things I'd rather not remember but seem to have no choice about it seems. So with your kind indulgence I'll pick this up in the morning.

The life and times of Nellie the Belle.....

A joyous good evening to all. As I sit writing this post I hope everyone of you are having a wonderful evening and that your day tomorrow is even better. Ok, enough of the greeting. I'm going to get right to the main topic for the evening.
I'm going to, at this time, introduce you all to Nellie. Group, this is Nellie. Nellie, this is a group of loyal and faithful bloggers. Nellie was my first car. She was of the American motors brand and was assembled in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and sixty. To those not well versed in mathematics that would be 1960. Her brand was better known as a "Rambler". Let me now tell the brief story of how she got her name. When I first made the purchase of this fine (term used loosely) automobile she, among other deficiencies, didn't have the ability to stop. Put another way, she didn't have brakes. When I paid the money for Nellie and got behind the wheel I was unaware of this, but found out quickly as I came to the first of many stop signs. Among the many efforts made to stop were the use of the expression "whoa Nellie". It stuck and became the name I called her for almost a year. Now, the name established, I'll go on to other deficiencies. She, I found out late that evening, also had no dim headlights. Because of this minor setback I drove the entire night with my lights on bright, which I might add, enraged most all of the other drivers which had the misfortune to meet me on the road. That might sound like a serious and difficult problem, but taken in context, it really was one of the most minor. Another problem was that all four tires were completely and utterly smooth (worn out to those not familiar to the lingo) . On this account I'd decided to go rather slowly just in case. After that decision was made I made the discovery that she would only go about thirty miles an hour anyway, which worked out very well for everyone except for those following me. Oh, speaking of following me, I'm led to the next and worst of all her infirmities. She had no, I repeat, NO rings on any of her pistons. I'll break that down a bit for the mechanically challenged. The pistons are those things inside the engine that compress the fuel mixture and make the engine go. The rings on the pistons (about four on each) are the things that keep the motor oil from getting into the cylinders and making the engine put out a degree of white smoke. The amount of white smoke depends on how many of the rings are worn, broken or just plain not there. Well, Nellie had no rings on any of the six pistons inside of her engine. Bless her heart. The result of this malady was that she put out more white smoke that any mosquito sprayer ever in the history of man and machine. One having the misfortune of driving behind me for any distance found that there was no visibility for fifty to one hundred yards, but on the upside, there was a tremendous drop in the mosquito population for quite a while. ( :-D ) I finally had the engine reworked and that particular problem went away. I had spent a grand total of three hundred dollars on her. One hundred eighty dollars was the purchase price, then one hundred twenty dollars to have Nellie's engine rebuilt.
Now, I know at this juncture you're all wondering whatever happened to Nellie. The truth be told, I wish I still had her. The truth being further told, I have no Idea what happened to Nellie. I loaned Nellie to an Uncle and a few days after (probably in a pout) she promptly stopped running forever and all time. He pulled her over to the side of the road as best He could and further pushed her the rest of the way out of the road. I had no way to get Nellie to my house, not being able to afford a wrecker, so there she sat while I thought about the dilemma that she and I were in. As I pondered the problem it went away. Literally it went away. I never found out what had happened to Nellie, but assume that someone with access to a wrecker (or just a chain) had pulled her away, probably as an act of pity. Since I still didn't have the means to bring her home I gave her (in my mind) to her kidnapper/rescuer. So goes the story of noble Nellie, may she rest in peace. ........and so it went.......

A tidbit of wisdom.......one

Hi ya'll....please don't consider this a post. Just something that's been on my mind a bit today. Here goes:

1) People that have a lot of friends are those that have learned how to be a friend

2) People that are most loved are those that have learned how to love.

3) People that are known as selfish are those that have never learned to think of others.

4) There are people that constantly and consistantly seek the balances of life that make them Loved, respected, trusted and friendly, and there are people that don't know that those very balances exist and as a result live lives that are discontent and angry.

More tidbits later. .......and so it goes.......

Complete stress...or...how I survived this long....

Good Evening everyone and thank you all for taking the time to read this, the next installment in my blog. I appreciate your being patient while so breathlessly awaiting the arrival of each new post.
I'd like to take tonight's post to continue something I was talking about today. I sometime forget (probably on purpose) things that have been sources of stress in this life. One such source of stress has to do with some of my years working on a railroad. I had been offered a promotion which was going to more than double my salary. Let me say before going on that I'm not money hungry, but I did have a family to support and wanted to do the best I could in that. I therefore took the promotion and began training. If I remember right, I trained for the new job for about two months but should have been given 4 or 5 months of training. My new job involved sitting in a seven story tower and directing most of the operation of a freight yard. Quite an undertaking for someone experienced, but almost an impossibility for someone so new to the vocation. To make a long story not so long I'll explain like this. The over all freight yard was made up of smaller specialiy yards. It broke down somewhat like this: fourteen tracks to receive trains, fifty six tracks to classify (break down) each train, two forwarding yards that included all together twelve tracks to rebuild each train with different freight cars. The biggest source of stress was in defying the mathamatical possibilities of such an operation. For example, when one had fourteen tracks to receive trains and twenty trains showed up.....well...you get my drift. In order to get all of the trains in the yard one had to remove a train from one of those fourteen tracks, then bring one of those extra trains into the just opened track. Sounds sort of easy, but wait. Not so easy. In order to open up those fourteen tracks one had to classify each train received, or switch each train into the next yard in the line called the classification yard. The problem was that of those fifty six tracks most were full. Now to the crux of the problem and the mathimatical impossibility. One can only put rail cars into a track until it's full, and at that point it will absolutely, positively NOT hold any more. Now....all of this for eight to sixteen hours a day and with your bosses (plurel) standing behind you screaming profanities to make more progress. Oh yeah, add one thing, the guys working for you can only go so fast. Asking them to speed up was pretty much asking for trouble. Trouble like, injuries or even fatilities. Ok...All of this went on a lot like this for about fifteen years before it slowed down any. By the time it had slowed down I was pretty much past recovery. One of the ways I survived was by taking very short breaks at my desk. Usually thirty seconds to a minute. On each infrequent break I'd close my eyes and suddenly I'd be back in a quiet and serene surrounding. Something like, standing on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier when we weren't flying the planes, and listening to the swishing of the water as it swept by one hundren feet below. That was pretty much the only thing I could hear, but I'd also look once again at the moon and stars and how beautiful they were shining over the ocean. Or....I would sometime go back to growing up on a farm. On Sunday's we had free time and many is the time I'd go into the pasture and lay down in the shade of a tree and just listen to the quiet sounds of the insects as they busily went about their daily activities. Sometimes I'd lay like that for two or three hours. Yes...those were two of the things that kept me from being anymore insane than I already am. Complete stress. Overcome by memories of a better and quieter time. I look back at those stressful years and sometime wonder how I survived it, but then....I'm not so sure I did. .......and so it went.......

The great flea conspiracy in the Dog days of summer......

Good Evening all.....I suppose you wonderful folks out there are tired of holding your breath and wondering what's been the delay in posting. Well....I'll tell you....I've been on a little trip and just this very day returned. Yep...I had a great time and yep...I was all by myself. Bless my little heart. I am now returned and in great spirits and feeling good...Well...All but my neck, back, left elbow, knees and right ankle. ( :-D ) Just kidding!!! I have, at present, some wonderful company I'd like to talk about a bit if I may, before launching into the remainder of this post. I have my youngest daughter, Crissy, along with her four children, spending the night with me. I had hoped that Kim and her boys could have but prior plans precluded this from happening. I thought I'd do this post while Crissy is getting the children to bed. Ok...now on to the posting....
There are some, if not all of you, that remember previous posts concerning a young boy and his adventures on our farm. This post is about another event in the life of that young boy. It was on a rainy day, thus not many outdoors activities (except for mandatory chores). It was while Dennis and I were consumed with those very chores that this young boy got another taste of adventure on a farm. Let me quickly interject at this point that Dennis and I both told him the ills that could befall him if he pushed ahead with this plan. His plan was to, while Dennis and I were busy with some chores, to get into the loft of the hay barn and make tunnels in the hay. The fallacy of the plan was quite apparent to us but seemed to escape him. The problem with the plan he had was that some cats had made their home in the hay loft and controlled the mice/rat population. Of course, being the felines they were, and having the fur they had, they did indeed have fleas. Also, of course, some of the fleas had left their homes on the cats to get into/infest the hay. So, this young man, having the burning desire that he had to play in the hay, proceeded to do just that. Dennis and I were quite some time finishing the chores we'd been assigned to do, which gave this young man quite a while to play in the hay loft. When Dennis and I had finished and gone to the hay barn the young man told us (while scratching furiously) that he had the tunnels all ready to play in. Dennis, being the strongest of heart, inspected his head and the hair on it, and of course, found that his head was INFESTED with...yep...fleas. Of course Dennis and I were blamed for the catastrophe. We never did get anyone to believe us and we couldn't figure out why they chose not to. ( :-D ) To remedy the situation we had to comb some flea killing mixture thru his hair, which made him stink for a couple of days. His mother was quite put out. I thought at the time she was just being difficult. It was a few years before I finally understood her point of view. I mean....it was only flea infestation. .......and so it went......

The other side of the circle........

Well....here we are once again. Thank you for coming in to read another post. It's an honor to have you. Please feel free to comment if you'd like. The post for tonight is about some people that have been very important to me. Maybe I should change the names to protect the innocent, but no, I'll put it out for all to read. I'm going to talk tonight about my Mom and her side of the family. My Mom is eighty one years old as of last December, but still has the vim, vigor and energy to have two vegatable gardens and a yard full of flowers of all shapes, sizes and descriptions. Oh yeah...she also knows the name of every type on plant she has. She has been a vital factor in every part of my development from infancy till the present. She is, many times, a study in contrasts. She's very loving and kind and constantly alert for anyone that she can help, while also being very opinionated and idealistic. In other words, she's a bundle of constant energy looking for an outlet. ( :-D ) Her favorite times of the of the year are Spring, summer and autumn, those being the times of year she can get outside and work in her yard and gardens. The winter she mostly tolerates while waiting for better weather. She was born in the winter of 1924 in a small country town in north central Alabama. She was born somewhere in the middle of ten children, having 5 older siblings and 4 younger. She is now one of five that survive. Her father, my grandfather,his name was John, was a traveling preacher, otherwise known as a circuit riding pastor. When he did stop the circuit he settled down to pastor one church. Over the years he was the pastor of several small country churches and became known far and wide in this part of Alabama. As a child I remember him as very tall, but I'm assured that he wasn't so tall, being a bit less than six feet tall. I do know he was a thin man so maybe that's why he seemed so tall. His wife, whose name was Mary (two nice jewish names, huh) I remember as being short and sort of laid back. She was a diabetic for as long as I have memory of her, at a time when diabetes wasn't easily treated. She was, in her older years, rather overweight. I remember her as being a good balance for my granddad. He was always teasing all of us (his grandchildren) and I rarely remember him without a smile on his face. My Grandmother on the other hand, was a bit more serious, which is why they were good for each other. While my grandfather pastored churches, that's not how he supported his family. That he did that by working in the coal mines. He did that at a time when coal mining was an extremely dirty, unhealthy and very dangerous occupation. Fatalities were more the rule than the exception. On top of that, they had a farm in which everyone old enough either particapated or did house work and cooking. They, as a family were deeply caring for each other as well as those in the community in which they lived. Living in and through the depression of the ninteen thirtys made them a very close knit family. There is so very much more that I could tell, but I'm going to limit myself to what I've written for the time being. There will be more written later. Suffice it to say, that my Mom came from solid and quality beginnings, and has endured much through the years. I know in the early sixties in a period of about three years she lost to death her Dad, a son and her Mother. It was a very trying time for us all but we became closer and more connected because of it. A last comment....I'm proud of where I came from and the family from which I came. ......and so it went........

The case of the terminal crabs....Or...How bubbles almost met his maker.

A hearty good evening to everyone that has the nerve to read this post. Welcome and welcome. I'm glad to have you and hope you make yourself at home and enjoy. I have in store tonight, something that was not, at the time, funny in the least. Now though, with the perspective that the passage of time permits , it is hilarious. It was in the autumn of 1971 in the Mediterranean sea. We were on the aircraft carrier U.S.S. America. We'd been for some weeks sailing up and down the coast of Israel, Egypt and Lebanon trying to avert another middle east war. (and had some success at that point in time) We'd been relieved temporarily from that task by the U.S.S. Saratoga (another carrier flotilla ). Our next port of call just happened to be Naples, Italy, the cesspool of ports. At that time at least. We'd pulled into port and most of the squadron had gotten liberty to go ashore. Some of us, having been there, had no desire to leave the ship to go into Naples. One of the ones that did go though, was a second class parachute rigger named .......Well.....Lets just give his nickname. It was, you guessed it, Bubbles. Mostly because he was shaped so very much like one. Another reason was because we sometime thought that maybe that's what he had in his head. In other words, not the sharpest knife in the drawer. I've been thankful for years that I didn't have to use the parachutes that he packed. ( :-D ) Across the aisle from his bunk was the bunk used be a good friend and buddy of mine. His name just also happened to be Mike. Bubbles came in from liberty the first night in port and had (we didn't want to know how and where from) gotten the worst case of crabs in the modern annuls of history. Now, for those of you that don't know about the kind of crabs I'm talking about, let me fill you in. These are very small (you can hardly see one by itself) parasites that attach themselves to the root of the hair shaft. Oh yeah,.....They multiply by the hundreds. Make that the thousands. If you got two today, tomorrow you had, literally, thousands. Oh yeah, they only attached to hair that the sun couldn't shine on. ( :-D ) Anyway, Bubbles had gotten himself a royal serving of them. A couple of mornings later, at reveille, Bubbles rolled out of his rack (that's what we called our beds) and removed his blankets and sheets. Instead of rolling them up as did the rest of us, He grabbed his by the end seam and POPPED it into the air. There was, at that point, a whole cloud of the little critters floating through the air in search of a new home. It seemed Bubbles wanted to share the itch and did so with greatest of ease. It was at that point that Mike came rolling out of his rack and looked with disbelief at the scene before him. It was at this point that the action picked up to a fast blur. Mike, realizing that he'd just been given a case of crabs became quite suddenly.....The word livid comes to mind. I have to interject right here, that we all (several hundred sailors) were dumbstruck with admiration and awe at the articulate way that Mike took all of the four letter words that we'd ever heard, combined them into compound words, and then combined the compound words he'd just created into bigger and better compound words. It was like a tapestry of color unfolding right out in front of our ears. It was the topic of admiration and conversation for several weeks in the mess hall (the place we ate) After Mike finished verbally, he got more angry than ever and started toward the now incredulous and frightened Bubbles, but thankfully, some of us were able to restrain him till Bubbles beat a hasty retreat. After the turmoil had died down a bit, the medical officer showed up and sent us all to sick bay where we were treated for the little vermin that Bubbles had so generously shared with the whole compartment. We also had to move for two days so everything in there could be fumigated. By the time we were back in our compartment we were all angry at Bubbles so the Skipper (our Commanding officer) reassigned him to another place until the end of the cruise. On a closing note, I forgot to say thanks to Bubbles so I will here. Thank you Bubbles, for the worst case of crabs known to mankind. ..........and so it went........

And miles to go before I sleep.......

Good Evening to everyone. I am, once again, happy to have you reading this next post in my blog. Putting the posts in this blog has been thus far an interesting thing. Sometime fun and sometime not so fun. Sometime it's brought a smile to my face and sometime a grimace of pain long forgotten and suddenly remembered. The post for today is in two parts. First I'd like to recall my Dad. He succumbed to cancer after a stalwart battle for three years. After two surgeries, three courses of Chemo and altogether about eighteen to twenty four months of radiation He finally found relief from the pain that had been his constant companion for so long. As much as I wanted to keep him I found myself feeling a bit guilty for being glad he'd passed away. I was just so very tired of seeing him suffer so terribly and for so long. He was in life a role model for so many people, including myself. He had by my sixteenth birthday taught me much about building. I never do anything to this day that doesn't make me remember something he taught me. He was a big man, standing six feet and four inches tall and weighing between two hundred seventy five and three hundred pounds. Not until his later years did he begin to pick up weight that wasn't muscle. He was indeed a gentle giant, having a soft heart that led him to, behind the scenes, helping probably hundreds of people. Most people never knew this of him because he didn't want it openly known. He just wanted to help and gained his reward from the act of giving. He was, I suppose, one of the most unforgettable people in the life of this writer. He may be also where I gained my stunning good looks. ( :-D ) (Please allow me this small bit of humor) The second part of this post is about learning work on a farm. At the age of about ten years old I started helping with the work on our family farm. We generally had about 40 acres of cotton and 30 acres of corn. After the death of Dennis and Jerry getting his greetings (draft notice) from Uncle Sam I was suddenly at the age of fourteen the main farm worker. All of this with a red and a brown mule. (with which you're already well acquainted) On top of that I had on average twelve thousand chickens, forty head of cattle, several hogs and usually some horses. My Dad held a construction job but helped all he could, which was anytime he was not working away from home. I don't remember what we did in our spare time ( :-D ) By the age of fourteen I was carrying two fifty pounds sacks of fertilizer, one on each shoulder through a freshly plowed field. Not an easy feat for any age. By fifteen years of age I was tossing fifty to seventy five pound bales of hay onto a stack fifteen feet high. Yes, we worked long and hard, but we also took some time to play and we played as hard as we worked. In the winter there wasn't so much to do so we used our time in other ways. Sometimes we used the winter time to clear ground for planting, and sometime we hunted and supplimented our diet with wild game.
I suppose some of you have heard the 'old saying' "making hay while the sun shines". We lived that many times. When a neighbor would have freshly mowed hay in the field and we saw it was going to rain neighbors from miles around would show up and we'd work into the night getting his hay into his barn. If it got wet it was ruined and that neighbor had no hay for his livestock that winter. So, when we saw a friend/neighbor in need we'd all do whatever it took to pitch in and help. We did work hard but I remember it as a really good time. A time when neighbors knew each other for miles around and looked out for each other. A time, it seems, long, long vanished...... ..............and so it went.......

Opportunity seized.....

Good Evening....just a short post here. Kim, Crissy and I went to lunch today, actually they bought me lunch, and we all had a grand time. As we were in the parking lot of the restaurant
preparing to leave an opportunity presented itself. As we stood talking a small blue car drove up and a young lady with two small children came to where we were. Without going into any detail I'll just say that we were fortunate enough to be able to make a difference in this young ladies life and she left with a whole new countenance. All this just to say to the young lady, thank you for the privledge of helping in a small way and I pray that your dreams are fulfilled. :-)

A night without stars......

Good Evening all. I'm happy to have you all reading this, the next post in the life of an average guy that's happy to be here. Welcome!
I've pondered what this post should be about. There is so much to write about that I have trouble deciding. As a teenager we had, as is fairly common, a rivalry with a school from another town not far away. It was a rather friendly rivalry as they go. We played football, basketball, etc against these guys so we knew them rather well. One day we got word that some guys from that particular town was going to raid the watermelon patch of an older man it the neighborhood. The old man was known as a gruff person, but to those of us that knew him well he was a kind and generous man and neighbor. I don't remember exactly who it was but someone tipped him off about the raid. (I swear it wasn't me ) (:-D ) The night as it turned out, was overcast and very dark, a perfect night for the raid. We, some of my buddies and I, anticipating the coming action sneaked into an adjoining pasture to witness the action if there was some. (we were very civic minded) Sure enough, along about midnight or maybe a little sooner, we saw a car pull to a stop on the side of the highway not far away. Now, I have to say here, that we knew the old man was out there somewhere but we didn't know just where. So, we waited and sure enough, they emerged from the little strip of woods that bordered the highway. As they came into the middle of the patch looking for the best melons, and not paying attention, the old man rose from his seat, raised his twelve gauge double barrel shotgun and fired two shots into the air. The sounds of the shots froze everyone, including those of us that were hidden. When the raiders collected their wits, they all turned and sprinted for the strip of woods and ultimately to their car. Did I mention that there was four of the raiders? As they sprinted at breakneck speed out of the field, they vaulted the....Wait....Did I forget about mentioning the barbed wire fence at the edge of the woods. Well, three of them vaulted the fence. The fourth, in his haste, had apparently forgotten about the fence and ran full speed and headlong into one of the more sturdy of the fence posts. The impact not only knocked him out cold, but made those of us that were witnesses a short distance away cringe. We saw the old man walk to where he was and try to lift him. Oh yeah, the other three raiders were long gone. When we saw the old man trying to lift the limp raider we went over and volunteered our services. (it seems that we were all just walking by down the road when all of this transpired) (:-D ) Ok, Ok.....this has a good ending. We carried the victim, or was he a perpetrator, to the old mans house not far away where the old man and his wife made him comfortable until he awakened. They then cleaned up the brave raider and called his parents. We didn't see the point at this juncture of witnessing anything further so we excused ourselves and eased out, but we did stay close till his parents arrived and helped him into the car. None of the witnesses involved ever saw a reason to tell about our parts in the events of the night, so we just never talked about it, except of course, with each other. Sorry guys, but the statute of limitations have long since expired, thus the narrative of this post. To the raiders go my humblest apologizes and my best wishes for more and better success in any other endeavors in their lives. Sweet memories of youth....at least for the witnesses! ......and so it went.......

Wonderful fun in the days of innocence.........

Good evening everyone. I'm happy to say that I've made it through another Monday. A real plus is, I have the same number of body parts that I did last Monday. A small accomplishment to some but something that looms large considering my track record. ( :-D ) I have what I consider a real treat with this post. At least I'll enjoy writing it. It's about a lad of about 6 years old (give or take a bit). This lad is blonde with big brown eyes and has a thin frame. He's maybe three feet ten inches to four feet tall and weighs( if soaking wet) maybe seventy pounds or so. This young lad lives in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, and has most of his life. Once a year his family takes a 'vacation' to see family in and around Jasper, Alabama. This is the highlight of his year. It's where he gets most all of his "show and tell" material for school. His favorite place in the whole world is out in the country at his paternal grandparents home. At this magical place there is no limit of things to see and do. Not far down a dirt road there is what's left of an old sawmill. The equipment is gone but left behind are three HUGE piles of sawdust. These must have been sixty feet high. There were days that this young lad, along with several cousins about his age or a bit older maybe, spent the entire day playing. At the end of the day, or more precisely, at dinner time when called in by adults we'd troop back to the house. There would be a line of us with sawdust on and in every crack, crevice or orfice in our little bodies. My grandparents didn't have running water at that time, so before allowed in the house for dinner we had to clean up. The ususal procedure was for all of us to strip down to our birthday suits, or more literally said, naked and have an adult draw water from the well and pour on us slowly till we were reasonably clean, or at least somewhat free of sawdust. He still remembers well how frigid the water from the well was. At that point they all put on bed clothes and weren't allowed out, except for going in the large yard to catch lightening bugs. The next day He was up early and pondering what to do on that day. If it was winter he'd lie in bed covered by so many quilts he could barely move under the weight of them. After counting to three numerous times to get started he'd finally crawl out from under the quilts, grab his clothes that were laid out for him, and run for the kitchen. Upon arrival there he'd run behind the wood stove that his grandmother was cooking breakfast on and get dressed. Oh yeah, one of the wonderful things that would happen, his grandfather would say"Hi Mikey". Oh, the wonderful smell of bacon early in morning of a day that was fully looked forward to. One went to bed wishing that morning would come quickly so the days adventures could commence. The days adventures would include waiting for the steam train that hauled coal from the mine to the steel mills in fairfield. The train would head toward the mine about mid-morning to load up and would come back loaded with coal about mid-afternoon. On it's way back it would most always stop at the huge water tank beside their house to take on water. As the fireman and engineer would water the boiler we'd stand as close as the adults would allow us and wait for the steam to vent. We knew it was going to happen but it never failed to scare us. We were transfixed by the whole experience. After the train finished taking on water and departed we'd "sneak" off down the tracks in the direction of the "big" trussle that spanned the creek that ran behind their house. Sometime we'd be able to get out of sight of the adults before we were called back. Upon accomplishing that, we'd turn and run for the trussle because we knew the train would not come back till the next day. When arriving at the trussle we'd begin working at getting courage enough to acutally walk out onto it. Between every crosstie one could see the water below. It wasn't actually a very high trussle but to a young lad it seemed like a long way down. Most of us before we grew up finally did begin to walk across and back. Well, I've run out of time and space on this particular post, so I'll keep the rest to tell another day. Besides, you wouldn't want everything at once, would you? So, leaving more for another day I'll say goodnight for now, but don't worry, there is more to come. .......and so it went.......

Hearing the tolling of the Bell......

Good afternoon to everyone.....I'm happy and flattered to have all of you reading this post. Now, usually I try to have something humorous on about every other post, but this time I'm going to make an exception (if you'll permit it this once). Thank you....I knew it would be ok with all of you.
I've had on my mind the last couple of days some people I knew once. Some I knew well and others more in passing, but I knew them all. These are the abbreviated stories of some of the unsung hero's of a time long past. These were guys that the bell tolled for too early. Guys whose names are on a list that includes some of the greatest names in American history. My first acknowledgment is for a cousin. His name was Larry. He was very tall, I'm guessing about 6 feet and 7 inches or so...maybe a bit more. He was drafted in his nineteenth year of life. To look at Larry one would think that he was an ordinary guy, but he had attributes that in my mind set him apart. To make a long story shorter, Larry went to Vietnam after he finished with basic training, and was assigned to a recon outfit. On his last recon he stepped on a mine and was killed.
The next guy was a Lt. Commander Threlkeld that was a pilot on an A-7 corsair in operation rolling thunder over North Vietnam. He'd dropped his bomb load and was returning to the carrier when he was shot down over the gulf of Tonkin. An A-1 reconnaissance plane circled over head keeping an eye on him through their camera lens while the chopper we called the 'angel' headed out to pick him up. While all of this was happening he was picked up by a Vietnamese fishing junk. That would ordinarily be a good thing, but one never knew who was manning those boats. If it was really fisherman it was good. It just so happened that this particular boat was manned by Viet cong. When the angel came into view of them they stood him up and shot him, then threw his body over the side of the boat into the gulf. The 'fishing boat' then headed away and the angel went in and picked up the body. At that point the Phantom alert fives were launched and destroyed the junk with everyone on board. All of this was captured on film by the A-1 that was circling over head.
So....there is little I can say that will speak more than does the lives of these heros. Even though they have all been dead for many years their memories live on in my heart and in the hearts of thousands more that lost their innocence in many places and in many ways. People that saw too much and live day to day with memories they would rather not have. More heros in later posts. .........and so it went.......

Something good this way came.....

A very good evening to everyone that is waiting in such suspense for this post. I apologize for keeping you on edge for so long. :-)
On this particular post I'm going to tell about something that I remember as very good and exciting. Something that changed my life in a wonderful way, but that turned out to be not quite so good. This particular event is quite important in many ways. Two of those ways are named Kim and Crissy. The event I'm speaking of with such eloquence is the point in time that their Mother and I met. It was on a sunday afternoon in November, about the middle of the month, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and sixty eight. I was at home on a leave from my duties as a sailor in Uncle Sams Navy, and was quite bored and looking for something to do. I called on the phone someone that I was very good friends with and had been for several years. Her name was, and still is of course, Sharman. This young lady turned out later to be my sister-in-law. (she married my oldest brother) As Sharman and I talked I found out that she had company in the form of a girlfriend that she went to church with. Sharman, being the sweet girl that she was, started making plans to get the two of us together. We made plans for all of us to meet at my Grandfather's house, which by coincidence happened to be right across the street from the church they went to. So....meet we did. Now, at this point let me interject an important item that needs to be covered. I was wearing, it being November and rather cold, my dress blues that were all new and shiny. I'm told that I made a rather dashing figure. (Not my words.) :-D It was at that fateful time that I met the young lady. Her name was Yvonne and she was without doubt the prettiest girl I'd ever seen to that point in time. She was very kind, gentle and pleasing to be around. When the time came for them to go across the street to church Yvonne ask me if I'd attend with them, and being the kind of guy I was/am I immediately consented. Oh yeah...I'm leaving out part. My sister, Karen, was with me. She'd just turned 16 and wanted to go to another church, which just happened to be where her boyfriend attended. So, I solved the problem by simply tossing her the keys to the car, and telling her to come back after church to pick me up. (and by the way, she did) I attended church with Sharman and the young lady that was to become my wife. After church she and I sat in the parking lot and talked for a while, until her Dad came by and told her it was time to go home. At that point I got her phone number, which I used the very next day. A couple of days later we went on our first date and had a wonderful time. By the second date it was like we'd been friends for a long time. All of this was the middle of November and we married the next April. (after breaking up and getting back together one time, but that's a story for another day) The next ten years will always be in my memories as a wonderful time. A time that brought a lot of Joy to our lives as well as two young ones we named Kimberly Susan and Crissy Denina. Those two, by the way, still bring tremendous joy to me and have graciously given me 6 more bundles of joy. What can I say here about Christopher and Scott. They are like the sons I didn't have instead of sons-in-law. Now that she's passed away Kim and Crissy miss their Mom and I miss the girl I married. .........and so it went.........

Barrels and barrels of "fun"?

Good evening to the millions of anticapating and faithful readers out there. I'm doing this, the next post, as a gesture of sympathy to ya'll. I don't want ya'll glued to your computers any longer than is necessary, so here it is.
As I sat tonight, in deep thought, I recalled an incident from years gone by that is amusing. At least it is now. At the time it wasn't funny at all. Well......maybe just a little bit. A bit of a disclaimer at this juncture. The only involvement I had in this is the foreknowledge of it's transpiration. Actually it was a two part event. I'll start with the car wreck. At the high school we attended, after all had departed every afternoon, a thick cable was stretched across the road and locked. In the middle of the cable was a very large sign that was painted red with the word "STOP" painted on it in reflective white paint. A friend of mine, on impulse, decided to play some pranks. So he removed the sign from the cable. A classmate, not necessarily a friend, after dark saw the the sign wasn't in place and decided to drive into the parking lot and do tailspins on the gravel parking lot. (which was the reason for the cable and sign). Thinking, perhaps because he didn't see the sign, that the cable wasn't in place He headed at a rather high rate of speed into the parking lot. He hit the cable at about 60 miles per hour, at which point his car stopped in approximately 2 feet. He didn't. (stop that is) HE continued at about the same speed, at least until he hit the dash. At that point he did, indeed, stop. I was at home when the afore events transpired. Mike (my friend) having heard the resulting sound ran back the scene and immediately went to a phone and called me. The purpose of his call was two fold. First, he wanted me to come see the results of his caper. Second, but most importantly, he wanted me to supply him with an alibi (which I did after some negotiatations). Phase two of the operation was, the same night, he hoisted a fifty five gallon barrel up the vacant flagpole. After the excitement created by the car incident, he quite naturally forgot about the barrel until the next morning. That next eventful morning we heard a commotion consisting of a loud bang, the running of feet then loud yelling. It seemed that our principle, having arrived at his usual time and parking in his usual spot (under the flagpole) had failed to notice the impending barrel hovering over his car. Right on que, a couple of seventh grade boys went to perform the ritual of hoisting Old Glory up the flag pole for the day. Having arrived at the base of the flagpole and discovering the barrel high on said flagpole, they began a discussion on the best way to remove said barrel. Loosing the rope they began to lower the barrel, but as the rope slipped through their hands and began to burn they did what any young boy would do. They let go. The barrel fell bout 30 or so feet and, yes, hit the hood of the principle's car. Needless to say the barrel knocked a hole in the hood. The seventh graders, after collecting their wits (or at least what was left of them) began the slow and painful task of finding Mr. Hudson (the principle) and relating to him what had transpired. Already in a foul mood because of the car incident, he almost exploded. There was even talk, at least for a little while, of a reward being posted for the apprehension of the culprut, but it was never acutally posted. Besides, Mike and I were the only ones that knew and I knew if I told anyone I'd be assumed guilty also. So, I took the most logical course and kept my mouth shut, at least until now. .........and so it went..........

Ahhh...Sweet Home...How I long for thee....

Hello to all you folks out there waiting for this, the next post in the continuing series of the life of which I know so much. I just made the comment to the person that suggested this post that "My life has been so very blest". I could begin now listing the ways I've been blest and it would take all night (..It's 9:30pm). So, I'll begin things by saying that one of the ways I've been blest in this life is by having grown up in the home that I did. We didn't have a perfect life and it was with hard work that we lived, but I grew up knowing that I was loved and learned how to love. I suppose that as one goes through life encountering the very difficult trauma that life dishes out to us that we tend to lose sight of what we learned on the way. I've been giving thought to the homes I've had over the years and I've also given thought to each specific place that I've called home. The first time I recall 'returning home' was in December 1968. I'd been in San Diego, which was my first ever station while in the Navy. It was the first time I'd been away from home as an adult and for that extended amount of time. It's amazing how long 5 little months can be, huh? I can still recall with amazing detail each part of the trip. Boarding the plane in San Diego, changing planes in L.A., a 6 hour lay over in Dallas, from there to Atlanta ( I know, we flew over Birmingham to Atlanta) then back to Birmingham. It was about 9 or 10 pm when I arrived there. I called "home" to see if they (my family) could come to pick me up. I'd expected my Dad but when they arrived it was the whole family. Ahh....What a sweet homecoming. I had 2 whole weeks there and I savored the time greatly. San Diego wasn't a home I relished because it was filled with 16 hour days of drill, classes, drill, marching, shipboard drills, inspections that were quite literally impossible to pass and more drills. Oh yeah...We took just a small amount of time to eat and sleep. My next 'home' was in Memphis, TN. Where I stayed for 6 or 7 months in electronics school to learn as much as possible about the electronic equipment in all of the aircraft that the Navy operated. It was there that I met and married my first wife. Thus far I've covered three "homes". By this time I was becoming acclimated to changing homes very frequently. Next I was in Brunswick, Ga. where my oldest daughter was born. I was there for a short while, then sent to an Attack squadron for duty, which is where I stayed the rest of my time in the Navy. While in that squadron I called three places home. One was at Cecil Field in Jacksonville, Florida. The second was the USS Coral Sea that we caught out of San Fransico and the third was the USS America out of Norfolk, Va. While on the Coral Sea we went to the western pacific theatre where we spent time at yankee station along with the USS Midway and the USS Roosevelt. I never thought that I'd like calling the Coral Sea 'home' but the time came that I did. A few times I was sent TAD (temperarily assigned duty) to Danang Air force base. After that the Coral Sea was a good place to call home. I was happy to get back everytime. When we got back to Cecil Field and stayed a little while our orders came for a Mediterranean cruise on the USS America. What a welcome relief. Even though that deployment lasted a lot longer it was considerably easier. It was on that cruise that I missed so much of my daughter growing up. She turned from a baby into a toddler. Having had so many homes over the years I've realized just how wonderful home can and should be. It should be a place of safety, a place to be nurtured, a place where one can truly relax and a place where one can trust. Home for us all, will be what we and those there with us make it. We can choose to nurture each other and it will be a nurturing place. We can choose to protect each other and it will be a place of safety. We can choose to be trustworthy and it will be a place where we and those with us can trust and relax. We can make it a peaceful place by choosing to be peaceful. We can make it an angry place by being angry. In other words, it's going to be exactly what we and those in the home with us choose for it to be. I've had occasion over the years to live in a home that was very loving, and I've also had occasion to live in very contentious homes. "Home". What pictures it brings to mind when we hear the word. What memories spring to mind when we read the word. How often is the word used so casually. All of this begs an answer to questions that we alone can answer. Is God pleased with my contributations to my home? Is my home a place of quality? What am I contributing to my home? These questions need to be answered with some frequency in order for us to hold ourselves accountable in this area. Home...Ahhh...does the very sound of it make your heart glad or fill you with a sence of foreboding. Does the word bring to your face a smile or a frown. The answer, you will find, lies within your own heart and mind. ....And so it goes........

Dog day story number two......

Good Evening again. This is Mike coming to you live from his computer in his den. I've found a soft spot in my heart and decided not to hold you all in suspence about this next post. All this just goes to prove that I do indeed have a soft spot in my heart and that I'm not completely hard hearted. :-D I've decided to regale you all with another story about the young boy that was fortunate enough to spend some time at my house in a long ago summer. At the time of this story he'd recovered enough to start being ready to try new and different things. He'd mentioned at some point that he'd always heard about corn cob fights and wanted to try that. Dennis and I, being the kind and thoughtful young men that we were wanted desperately to fulfill his every dream and desire. So...we began to set the stage for a corn cob fight. The first of the preperations meant gathering up two five gallon buckets full of corn cobs. Then we took one bucket full of cobs and filled the bucket with water. We at that point had nothing to do till we'd allowed the cobs to soak for two or three days. At that point we poured out the water and the cobs and made sure the cobs were good and dirty. Then we set up two barricades and told him which he was assigned to. We even let him pick out the cobs he wanted to use. He, as we'd thought he would, chose the clean cobs. It just so happened that those were the dry ones too. Hey, it was his choice. Now let me explain to those of you not familar with corn cobs that cobs, as with most other things, when wet get heavy and limber. While that's the way wet cobs are, dry ones are very light and sort of float when thrown. With everything in place we took our places to begin the epic battle. Needless to say Dennis and I began to dominate the events of the battle. When we'd step out to throw a cob the young boy would hit us with one of his dry cobs. At the same time one of us would throw a wet one and listen for the sound of a wet and heavy cob hitting flesh. The sound went something like this "THOP" followed by a yelp from the general direction of the other barricade. Soon he began complain about the cobs hurting when he was hit. But, being determined to be brave about things he kept on throwing. After this went on for a while he decided he didn't like corn cob fights and wanted to do something else, to which we agreed. After all, we'd had as much fun with that as was there to be had. I remember that the welps from the hits that he took stayed in place for several days. One would think that after the experiences he'd had he would be leary about doing anything else we suggested, but he, after some recovery time, was ready to try something else. Our next plan was.....well....you'll have to come back in a few days to find out the next set of events. Ahhh...the joys of youth in the dog days of summer. .....and so it went.....

Confusing questions with perplexing answers......

Good Evening to all those wonderful people out there holding their breath in anticipation
of this post. I've been since the last post meditating on how to best broach this subject. I acknowledge up front that I don't have "the" answers, but at least I do have the right questions. :-) The subject for tonight is "Forgiveness". Yep, you read that right. Questions like (1) how do we do it, (2) why do it at all, (3) What is it anyway, (4) What good does it do, (5) What does it mean to me if I do or don't do it. I know there are those out there much better qualified to answer these questions, but let's face it, this isn't their blog, it's mine, right ? :-D I'd like to point out some things that I've learned over the years. First, let me say that the main reason to forgive is because we in the Judao/Christian world are told to by the Bible we read (or at least hear about). But, for purposes of discussion, I'm going to talk about the benefits to us personally, emotionally and mentally. First of all forgiveness is mostly for our own benefit. Of course it's for the other person too, but the most benefit comes to the person doing the forgiving. It keeps us from being angry, bitter, fearful, hateful people. The opposite is true of those that chose not to forgive. It tends to make us angry, bitter, hateful and fearful in our outlook on life. To me that's a good enough reason to forgive. Second, Forgiveness is a choice. Yep, we make a choice to forgive or not to. It's rarely if ever easy. It's rarely if ever a one time thing. Sometime we have to continue the choice for a long time. As long as we are unforgiving we're giving control of our feelings to the person that we feel has wronged us. Let me interject quickly that forgiving someone does not mean that we are going to start trusting them again in the near future. Trust is earned. That too is a choice, but a separate one. I can forgive a snake for being a snake but that doesn't mean that I'm gonna start trusting it enough to pick it up. This is the one of the toughest things that we ever do, but it's one of the most necessary things. Let me say that I've heard most of the arguments about why one can't forgive. I've heard them because I've heard me say them. One last point. The person that is most always the very hardest to forgive is "ourselves". Before we can move past things we do have to work on forgiving ourselves. Not easy, huh? Ok, Ok, enough you cry!! Give us a break you groan!! Alright...Enough wailing and moaning. I'll move on to other things. I just hope this helps someone somewhere. ........And so it goes.........

Young life in the dog days of summer......

Good Evening to the millions of readers out there. (it's my dream) :-D Before I start, a quick shout out to Kate. I have in store for everyone a humorous story that happened one summer during dog days. I was then about 11 or 12 give or take a year or two. We had visiting with us for about a week a kid about my own age. I can't recall his name so I'll just call him the young boy. My brother, Dennis (the one that passed away in 1963), and I looked forward greatly to showing him the ropes of a farm. We intended to teach him as much as we possibly could in a week about how to run a farm. It being in the dog days of summer it was scorching hot. Even the dogs would do nothing but lay in the shade and pant, but not us. The first thing I recall teaching the young boy was about our electric fence. Having a DC output, it wasn't dangerous, but was quite painful when one came in contact with it. We had, that summer leased extra grazing land from some neighbors so we could keep our cattle fed during the summer and until the fall cattle sale. We then put an electric fence around it because it was so much more simple and easy. Our job that summer day was to walk the entire length of the fence and make sure that nothing was touching it that could cause a grounding effect, ie. weeds, branches, etc. Having gotten about half way around we stopped and had a drink from the nearby spring. The water was so good and so clear and so cold. As we sat and rested a bit before continuing our inspection Dennis thought it would be a good idea for all of us to ......how do I put this delicately.....urinate before continuing on. As things proceeded, Dennis, at that point in time, told the young boy that it would be a good idea to do his business on the electric fence, which amazingly enough to me, He began to do without question. Dennis or I either thought he'd be silly enough to do it. But do it He did. Let me say here, that no matter how long I live, and I intend to do that till 2050, I'll never, ever forget the look on his face. His eyes quite suddenly began to light up as his jaw went slack and he began to twitch. Dennis and I sat in amazement that he'd actually done it. We then began to laugh......and laugh.....and laugh.....and laugh....and so on. When he finally began to regain his composure (which took a while) he began to get more and more angry. The more we laughed the more angry he became and the more angry he became the more we laughed. One would think that after that incident he'd never trust us again, but quite amazingly he did, but that's a story for another day about the dog days of summer in or around 1960-1961. If the young boy is reading this I suppose I should apologize, and I do, but I still think it's one of the funniest things I can remember. .......and so it went.......

Departures (2nd in the series...)

It's 9:45 pm and I'm sitting here wondering what I've already posted so I won't repeat myself too much. I think maybe I'll go in chronological order. I think I'll go back in time to a day that almost ripped my heart from my body. My then wife, Yvonne, and our oldest daughter, Kim, and I had set out from home headed to the operations tower at NAS Cecil Field in Jacksonville, Fl. for me to catch a plane to go to the USS Coral Sea. Everyone had boarded the plane but me and I was stretching things out as long as I could. I knew where our orders had us going, but little did I know where I would end up! Remembering that moment in time still makes my heart hurt. I tried and tried to turn and walk away to board the plane, but didn't have a lot of sucess. You see...I knew when I turned and left that I wouldn't see them for a year. That my daughter, Kim, would learn to walk and talk while I was gone. That I would miss at least one birthday. My wife and I just stood as long as we could and held each other. I even considered for a brief moment leaving and going AWOL. (not a good idea, huh?) There were times before I got home that I didn't know if I ever would. Oh well, another time that still brings a bit of pain when I remember it. I'm glad I did finally get on that plane. Now I have not just Kim, but Crissy as well and they are a blessing to me in the truest sence of the word. When I did finally get back home Kim had indeed learned to walk and was indeed speaking in full sentences.
Ok...enough of that. Now for another tip about making it in life to at least 56 years old...... there are three things in life that we should always make a conscious effort to keep in place, To Live, to love and to learn. To have a good life is to bless ourselves and others while building really good memories. To love (ourselves and others) is what makes our lives worth living. Without Love in our lives we can't truly live. To Learn is to always have an interest in God, ourselves and those in our lives. The day we stop learning should be the day we stop living.
Ok....back to work ya'll.....but thank you for taking the time to read this post. It makes me feel special to think that ya'll would take time out of your busy lives and schedules to read what I write and to comment on it. .....and so it went......

Learning Grandparenting skills......

wow...Feb first in the year of our Lord Two thousand and six. I'm sort of surprised to find myself alive after all this time. I've had so many near death experiences I've lost count of them. :-) So when I say to people that I'm proud to be here I truly mean it for real. I've debated for a couple of days what I should post about tonight. I'm not at home right now. My youngest daughter, Crissy, is having some oral surgery in the morning (Thursday) so I volunteered to spend the night at her house and take care of Ty (8 years old) and Gracie (5 years old). Gracie told me tonight that I have ugly toe nails, which is very true. She ask why so I told her that when I was young we were sort of poor and I wore shoes that were too little for me some. She was silent on that but I'm sure she'll bring it up again soon.
Ok...enough of that. Now about the title of this post. I remember well both sets of Grandparents. The are who I learned Grandparenting skills from. My paternal Grandfather, Griffin, was born during the reconstruction years. To be exact in 1882. My Grandmother, his wife Lexie, was born in 1890. They were married for 65 years and produced 15 children of which my father was somewhere in the middle. My maternal Grandfather, John, was born in the same year, 1882. He was a circuit preacher for many years in this area and was very well known. My Grandmother, Mary, was the youngest of them. She wasn't born till 1892. John and Mary were married for almost 60 years before death seperated them. They produced 11 children. So, having 24 uncles and aunts with families I have or had 79 first cousins. Some of them have passed away. I well remember as a child walking with one Grandfather or the other and them holding my hand. They both showed me a lot of things about life, like the value of loving your family and friends. The value of being generous and treating people with dignity and respect. The value of loving your God and your country. That's part of the reason that I so willingly served the United States by serving in the Navy. I learned from my Grandparents to look for the beauty in everyone because it was there to be discovered. Maybe not a lot of beauty in some but some just the same, and now matter how much or little it was there to be found if one looked. I particularly remember one night my paternal Grandfather and I were taking a walk. As we walked and He held my hard He would tell me stories from His childhood, and fasinating stories they were too. On this particular night as we walk around a curve we saw what I thought was a log burning. He told me that no, it wasn't on fire, but that it was foxfire. He broke off a piece of it to take home, but in a day or two it was only a dried stick. I wish I still had that dried stick. I suppose all of these experiences are the reason that I'm the way I am about my Grandchildren. To me they are all an absolute delight and I can't get enough of them.
It's bedtime so off I go......and so it went........

Delightful story # 2

Wow....it's Monday the 30th. I've been thinking about and remembering things from my past that I recall with fondness. One such thing that I recall is about a little pig. I don't think it was ever given a name, just called little pig. The extraordainary thing about this little pig was that it never grew in size. It lived about 3 years and died the same size that it was when it was born. It never got over 5 or 6 inches high. However, it's hair did grow. It had hair the length of a normal size hog. The hair on it's sides dragged the ground when it walked. It was, in the truest sence, the runt of the litter. I recall that it followed me everywhere that I would/could allow it to go. Oh yeah.....it slept in a gallon size tomato can. Anyway...just a bit of something I remember that still brings a smile to my face when I recall it. And so it went..........

Looking for the right balance...

Good evening to all. I'm sitting here contemplating what would be the right balance in a healthy blog. I could, as could most of us, dwell on things too negative and that wouldn't be good. On the other hand I could, again as could most of us, dwell exclusively on the positive things which would be warped as far a reality goes. So.....I sit wondering how to hit that balance just right, and also wondering if I'd know if I did get it right. :-) The conclusion I've come to is, that I'll depend on that wonderful group that actually read my blog to let me know if I goes too far one way or the other. There are in my life, as in any life, good and bad, ups and downs. My life has been so very full and so very blest. I've been so many places and seen so many things and known so many people and done so many things that I'm not sure I can blog them all. From time to time I'll share a bit of wisdom that I've picked up on the trip to here. One such bit is this. Trying to have the perfect life and worrying about the absence of said perfection is like staring at the sun. It only hurts your eyes and makes you blind to the real and wonderful world surrounding us.
To answer a question posed to me and in continuation of the previous post. On August 18, 1968, when I departed for the bus station to go to San Diego, my Mom and my two youngest siblings (Karen and Randy) all drove me to the bus station. I remember the trip being relatively quiet. We arrived at the bus station well ahead of time so we just sat and waited. As the bus finally pulled into the bus station a knot formed in my stomach. That knot stayed right in place for a couple of weeks as I tried to cope with a foreign environment. As the bus left the station I recall my Mom and Sister and Brother waving till the bus went out of sight. I wondered if any of the other passengers knew the sadness and homesick feeling I felt through every part of my body. It's been many years since then but I still remember well the events of that August day. Looking back I'm very glad that I didn't know then the things I'd witness and be a part of in the coming years.
Question answered so on to other things. Hopefully some of those things will make you smile a bit. And so it went...........

Departures (the series)......

Hello, Hello.....testing one two three four five....is anyone there? Just checking. I've already said more about the mules than they're worth. (at least to me) So, I'm on to other things, and since this is "my" blog I think I'll talk about me. Especially since I know me better than anyone else, right?

I've sort of been making a mental list of the times in my life that I've left from somewhere that I really wanted to stay. One of the sadest times I can remember is the day (August 18, 1968) that I left the home I'd known for 19 years to go to San Diego to begin my years in the Navy. I remember saying goodbye to my Dad before I left home headed to the bus station. The memory of that time is still very painful for me to recall. His 2nd oldest son had died a few years before, His oldest son had gone into the Army a couple of years before and now his middle son was leaving. At a very unstable time in the life of our country I might add. The memory of him choking back tears still sear my memories of that occasion. The last words I recall him saying before I left was "Son, you'll never live at home again". As it turned out, he was right. The words that he spoke and the look on his face stayed with me for a very long time. As a matter of fact, it still does. He passed away in 1988 after losing his 3 year fight with cancer. When he died it left a hole in my life that remains there to this day. Enough for now. I need a break from writing this post.

Ok, ok. Everyone stop sobbing and get busy at whatever you need to be busy at. :-D And so it went.........

Two questions for everyone......

Question one.....Has anyone read the book of Ecclesiastes very much...a wonderful book.
Question two.....How does one live with a loss brought on by a bad choice?
That's it...something to do and something to ponder.
Later

Perspective.....

Well....Here I am once again. It's Saturday night and I'm home alone and enjoying it very much. Plus, it's cheaper this way. I've had requests for a bit more about those two evil entities that were a plague to my teenage years. I speak of the red mule and brown mule with which I spent so much time. I hesitate about saying much more lest too much credit be given them for my having turned out so magnificently. :-) I do have memories of occasions that were extraordinary. One such memory that sticks out from others is the time that, having been up since about 4:30 am and having just finished 2 hours of chores and a hearty breakfast, I went to harness one of the mules. After having tried to run them into the barn and thus in the stalls, and having been almost killed for my efforts, I enlisted the aid of my youngest brother Randy. Once again we had no success in getting the mules into the barn. At that time I sent Randy to the house to fetch my 20 gauge shotgun and one shell. Having obtained said gun we went once again to round up the mules (which were snickering at us I might add). Having laid out my plan to Randy and instructed him on the proper course of action for himself, I made ready to do my worst. At this point I must add that my temper had given way to rage and I was gleefully looking forward to my planned action. As the mules came running toward us, which I knew that would do, I took careful aim at the first mule that ran by, which happened to be the black mule. Yep, I unloaded the number 9 bird shot into him. Now please don't think badly of me yet. I must explain that I was a good distance from him and did him no permanent damage. Having unloaded the gun, Randy and I walked to the back of the pasture to try once again to run them into the barn. As we approached them I pointed the now empty shotgun at them and they began running. We walked leisurely to the barn. Upon arriving at the barn we found the mules not only in the barn but in their respective stalls waiting to be harnessed. I didn't confess the dastardly deed to my Dad for several years. I might add, those mules were very, very well behaved for several weeks.
The next post is forthcoming so ya'll try to relax till then. And so it went..........

ME???

Hey......I'm back, but with a cruel trick. I have decided to say some things about me before I continue with my eloquent and dramatic story.

I find myself, at age 56, in a quandary. For the first time in my life I find myself in a position to relax and fulfill some long held dreams. No, no, no....that's not the quandary. That's next. Since I've never had a chance to do that, having worked long and hard for as long as I can remember, I've realized that I don't know how. I know, I know....it sounds silly, and maybe it is, but learn how I must. I wish someone could simply tell me how but I fear that this is something I must learn on my own. My first goal has been to regain my health, which I've been able to do. Now I must begin learning to relax. Not all the time...I still enjoy doing things. Completely wiring a house for electricity, or rewiring an existing house is still fun. Building things are still fun. But as fun as it is....it's still work. Since I have some limitations physically I have to be careful on what I try. No golf :-( No basketball :-( Oh well. I still can fish :-)

Ok, enough about that. I've had a request to tell more about my brother Dennis. Dennis was very handsome and charming. He was, at 17 years of age, 5 ft. 10 inches tall and weighed about 170 pounds or so. That would explain his always having a girl friend. Sometime He'd have one at school, one at church and one in the neighborhood :-D Dennis was, for all of his trying to be "manly", very kind and compassionate. He'd go out of his way to help anyone or anything. He was also a very good athlete. I still miss him after all this time.

Ok......enough for now. Next time I will, almong other things, tell a bit more about my ex-nemesis, the mules. Soon I'll get to the interesting part of this life.