Well, the countdown has begun. EJ and his girlfriend are expecting the arrival of their baby within the next few weeks. I am becoming a basket case! The nesting urge has gotten me and it's driving me crazy. I want to get everything ready for the upcoming event, but its not my baby. It's theirs! What will I do with myself? I think I will lose my mind. They have decided on Christian as his name. Of course that has led to many humorous comments. "Christ, will you please leave that alone and go play???" Or, "Christ, what is it now?" What will be his nickname is the question. Chris is the obvious choice, but we already know a Chris, which I have written about here before. Christ is really not appropriate. Christian sounds so biblical and pilgrimish.
Sasha has learned to get along somewhat better with Simon and Spike. They are growing so fast and make me laugh out loud at least 50 times a day. My little helper will run through the house and the kittens will chase her. She is doing remarkably well in kindergarten.
My son, EJ, is beginning to look a little like a deer caught in the headlights. He has raised 1 child, and helped with 2 others, but this will be the first time he has done it from scratch, if you will. He will be a wonderful father, if he can stop worrying long enough.
We survived our visit from Sandy, and we didn't lose power! I really feel for our northern neighbors and my prayers go out to them. I think all of us on the eastern seaboard kept thinking the storm would just keep going on out to sea, as we have watched them to 100 times before, but this one was dead on from the beginning. The forecasters were marvelous in tracking the storm, but I have to say, I did not enjoy watching them brave the elements to report the conditions. We have enough to worry about without watching and fearing someone will be swept away before our very eyes. It was quite frightening actually.
You know, I really like Micheal for a name. Or Joseph. Why does it have to start with a C?
Blessings.
A place of shadows, memories, thoughts, discussions, essays, and whatever else rambles down the streets of Nowhere. Come join us, as we linger here, on the outside of nowhere.
Nov 4, 2012
Aug 23, 2012
Conversations
At this time in my life, I live with my oldest son, his girlfriend, and her 5-year old daughter. They are expecting a child in December, so we will really have a full house. We have not lived here a month yet, and already we have adopted two more kittens, Simon and Spike/Clyde, that my cat Sasha detests with a passion. She is no longer hiding under the bed (not even my bed!), but she hisses and growls at them on every occasion. They are cute, and ignore Sasha most of the time. My little friend, the 5-year-old, we'll call her little Girl for now, well, we have some interesting discussions.
Just the other day, we were sitting on the front porch, and she looked at me and said, "You have to move, you are sitting in my grave." Of course, this this took me by surprise, and, even knowing I was not sitting in a grave, (I was sitting in a chair on the front porch) I jumped up. I said, "What? What do you mean a grave? Who died?" She looked at me solemnly and said, "Big brother died." (She has no big brother. He is imaginary.) I said, "Well, Jesus, I didn't even know he was sick. What killed him?" She replied,"He got shot by some guys in a car." At this point, I am thinking about psychology and what has happened to her to make her have these ideas. Then she said, "But I'm going to make him alive again. We have to do this thing where we give the demon something and then he gets to come back cause he won't be a demon anymore, and will let him go." I thought about this for a minute, thinking hard about the word demon. So big brother died and became a demon. This isn't looking good from where I sit. I said, (what else)?, "OK. What do we do?" So we held hands and she said some words from a language that has never been used on this earth anywhere, and she pointed to her right, and said, "Here he is, good again, right here." So I looked at the empty space and said, "Well, hey there, glad you're feeling better, or, I mean I'm glad you are not dead anymore." I really didn't know what to say, actually.
I asked her why she was thinking about all of this dying business. She told me she watched Supernatural with her mom and that is what happened to one of the characters. OK, now I feel a lot better. I then said, "You know you can't really bring people back who are dead, right?" She nodded her head, and said, "Like Grandma?" And I said "Right. We miss them and we can talk to them, if we want, and visit them and put flowers on their graves." She nodded her head, and then she looked at me, a little puzzled. "Grandma's in Newport News. That is not here." I said, "Well, we can get in the car and drive down the road here, and then turn, and find our way to Newport News, and the cemetery, and you can talk to your Grandma." And she looked at me, even more puzzled, and with the air of someone who is talking to a lunatic, and said, "I can't talk to Grandma, she's dead."
Now, what do you say to that?
Just the other day, we were sitting on the front porch, and she looked at me and said, "You have to move, you are sitting in my grave." Of course, this this took me by surprise, and, even knowing I was not sitting in a grave, (I was sitting in a chair on the front porch) I jumped up. I said, "What? What do you mean a grave? Who died?" She looked at me solemnly and said, "Big brother died." (She has no big brother. He is imaginary.) I said, "Well, Jesus, I didn't even know he was sick. What killed him?" She replied,"He got shot by some guys in a car." At this point, I am thinking about psychology and what has happened to her to make her have these ideas. Then she said, "But I'm going to make him alive again. We have to do this thing where we give the demon something and then he gets to come back cause he won't be a demon anymore, and will let him go." I thought about this for a minute, thinking hard about the word demon. So big brother died and became a demon. This isn't looking good from where I sit. I said, (what else)?, "OK. What do we do?" So we held hands and she said some words from a language that has never been used on this earth anywhere, and she pointed to her right, and said, "Here he is, good again, right here." So I looked at the empty space and said, "Well, hey there, glad you're feeling better, or, I mean I'm glad you are not dead anymore." I really didn't know what to say, actually.
I asked her why she was thinking about all of this dying business. She told me she watched Supernatural with her mom and that is what happened to one of the characters. OK, now I feel a lot better. I then said, "You know you can't really bring people back who are dead, right?" She nodded her head, and said, "Like Grandma?" And I said "Right. We miss them and we can talk to them, if we want, and visit them and put flowers on their graves." She nodded her head, and then she looked at me, a little puzzled. "Grandma's in Newport News. That is not here." I said, "Well, we can get in the car and drive down the road here, and then turn, and find our way to Newport News, and the cemetery, and you can talk to your Grandma." And she looked at me, even more puzzled, and with the air of someone who is talking to a lunatic, and said, "I can't talk to Grandma, she's dead."
Now, what do you say to that?
Grandsons and TV
My newest grandson is getting closer and closer. He is due in December, and his mom has decided his first name must begin with a C. I favor Cole, Collin, Chase, Chance, or Chad. His middle name will be Riley. His mom is thinking a lot of Christian. At least when he gets in trouble, he'll be called by his name, "Christ, what have you done this time!!" I don't know. I love the names Micheal and David. There are so many wonderful names that don't begin with a C. But who knows what the child will be called. As long as he is healthy, that is all that really matters. I have been thinking about some of the names celebrities give their children and what on earth possessed them to do so. Take Blanket, for instance: (Michael Jackson's son). What was he thinking?? Or Rumor (Demi Moore's daughter). I mean its cute for about 3 minutes and then you start thinking about it. Oh, such is life.
There has been a great deal of most likely purposeful controversy, meaning it was started on purpose to get people talking about the show, about Stars and Stripes. Evidently, celebrities try to complete military type operations and the winner gets to donate his winnings to military specific causes. This is a great idea and a great way to raise money for these charities, so I really can't see any controversy about it at all.
It used to be when you wanted to watch TV, there were actual programs that were comedies, variety shows, mysteries, dramas, crime stories that featured real-live actors acting. Now it has become the age of reality TV. I hate it myself. Well, I like Top Chef, but that is very educational as well as exciting. The drama seems to lesson each season and focus more on food choice, preparation, and skill. And then we have Call of the Wildman, or some such mess where a man, who seems very nice and cordial, (but who desperately needs to get some much needed dental care), chases skunks, raccoons, possums, and other little critters around in people's attacks with his bare hands. Can anyone out there say rabies?? These little critters all come with assorted claws and teeth and temperaments that are not conductive to safe handling by humans. I guess what bothers me the most is that some people will try this method themselves, and suffer injuries.
What is it with our society that we only seem to watch the antics of people who lack social skills or shows about the supernatural, such as vampires, zombies, and other assorted creatures? I guess with the economy and the hardships people face today with securing and keeping a job, the scramble to stay 1 step away from the street, we are looking for an escape. Anything to take our minds off of ourselves and our own miseries. It must be so farfetched and outlandish that it contains no elements of reality. That way we can feel safe for a while. We know it isn't real, it will never be real, and that is what attracts us. I, myself, love TrueBlood and Walking with the Dead. I also watch period dramas that supposedly reflect history and that way I can pick them apart.
Then there is Graham Norton, who I absolutely adore. If I want to laugh, that is where I go. He has such a marvelous way of defusing any kind of stress or drama, and everyone seem so comfortable on his show, except perhaps for Kristen Stewart. A local PBS station here is airing I, Claudius this Saturday, and guess where I will be?
There has been a great deal of most likely purposeful controversy, meaning it was started on purpose to get people talking about the show, about Stars and Stripes. Evidently, celebrities try to complete military type operations and the winner gets to donate his winnings to military specific causes. This is a great idea and a great way to raise money for these charities, so I really can't see any controversy about it at all.
It used to be when you wanted to watch TV, there were actual programs that were comedies, variety shows, mysteries, dramas, crime stories that featured real-live actors acting. Now it has become the age of reality TV. I hate it myself. Well, I like Top Chef, but that is very educational as well as exciting. The drama seems to lesson each season and focus more on food choice, preparation, and skill. And then we have Call of the Wildman, or some such mess where a man, who seems very nice and cordial, (but who desperately needs to get some much needed dental care), chases skunks, raccoons, possums, and other little critters around in people's attacks with his bare hands. Can anyone out there say rabies?? These little critters all come with assorted claws and teeth and temperaments that are not conductive to safe handling by humans. I guess what bothers me the most is that some people will try this method themselves, and suffer injuries.
What is it with our society that we only seem to watch the antics of people who lack social skills or shows about the supernatural, such as vampires, zombies, and other assorted creatures? I guess with the economy and the hardships people face today with securing and keeping a job, the scramble to stay 1 step away from the street, we are looking for an escape. Anything to take our minds off of ourselves and our own miseries. It must be so farfetched and outlandish that it contains no elements of reality. That way we can feel safe for a while. We know it isn't real, it will never be real, and that is what attracts us. I, myself, love TrueBlood and Walking with the Dead. I also watch period dramas that supposedly reflect history and that way I can pick them apart.
Then there is Graham Norton, who I absolutely adore. If I want to laugh, that is where I go. He has such a marvelous way of defusing any kind of stress or drama, and everyone seem so comfortable on his show, except perhaps for Kristen Stewart. A local PBS station here is airing I, Claudius this Saturday, and guess where I will be?
Aug 20, 2012
August
Thank God August has proved so far to be not as hot as this otherwise blistering summer. I see higher food prices for us all as the drought barrels on. I live maybe a city block from the Potomac, and one would think there would be a breeze coming off of the river, but no, I have felt none, until yesterday.
I have 3 more weeks of school left, then I have my associates degree in Medical Transcription. As I live out here in Bum Puck Eygypt now, my daily commute to whatever position I can garner with this degree will be significant. You see that word a lot in MT: significant. The findings were significant for edema of the extremities x2. The findings were not significant for pneumonia.
I recently had a sacroiliac joint injection. Seems the lower part of my back and hips are aging faster than you can say "wheelchair", and so I have been getting facet joint injections and hip joint injections, and they have really helped. Where I could not do anything, I now can resume most of my daily activities relatively pain free. I will never be pain free. I will always have residual pain. I have opted not to go the root of Oxycontin or other narcotic pain relievers. I am mostly furious with the companies who manufacture these drugs and allow them to be prescribed willy-nilly to anyone and everyone, regardless of condition being treated or the age of the patient.
My diabetes is requiring adjuvant therapy with oral medications now, most likely due to the steroid injections I have been receiving. My last A1c was 7.1 which is officially in the diabetes zone, and not in the prediabetes zone. I anticipate it will be higher this time as my blood sugars have been topping out in the 200+ area.
My physician inquired when I had had my last pap smear, and I told her it was probably in 2003. I have had the complete hysterectomy thing, so the medical community has decided I don't need them anymore. Which is fine by me. I told her, if she wanted to do one, she had better bring a broom for the cob webs and a drill or something, because its been a while since anything has been up my skirt. She laughed and said that her office would not be the place to have one, anyway, so I suggested perhaps a construction site. One wants the necessary tools on hand. We opted to forgo this very necessary diagnostic procedure for most women who have all of their body parts.
I have been depressed lately, as well. I have that feeling that the wheels of unknown design are turning somewhere in the background, not in my favor, and I cannot pin point where they are and for what purpose. Can we say "Paranoid"? I do not know if it is paranoia or just a gut feeling. We still do have those you know, a plain ole gut feeling, that says, "Hey, something is not right here." Always trust that feeling, ok?
I feel at a cross-roads, again!, and, quite frankly, I am too damn old to be at a cross-roads. I want my life to be boringly uneventful.
Best wishes.
I have 3 more weeks of school left, then I have my associates degree in Medical Transcription. As I live out here in Bum Puck Eygypt now, my daily commute to whatever position I can garner with this degree will be significant. You see that word a lot in MT: significant. The findings were significant for edema of the extremities x2. The findings were not significant for pneumonia.
I recently had a sacroiliac joint injection. Seems the lower part of my back and hips are aging faster than you can say "wheelchair", and so I have been getting facet joint injections and hip joint injections, and they have really helped. Where I could not do anything, I now can resume most of my daily activities relatively pain free. I will never be pain free. I will always have residual pain. I have opted not to go the root of Oxycontin or other narcotic pain relievers. I am mostly furious with the companies who manufacture these drugs and allow them to be prescribed willy-nilly to anyone and everyone, regardless of condition being treated or the age of the patient.
My diabetes is requiring adjuvant therapy with oral medications now, most likely due to the steroid injections I have been receiving. My last A1c was 7.1 which is officially in the diabetes zone, and not in the prediabetes zone. I anticipate it will be higher this time as my blood sugars have been topping out in the 200+ area.
My physician inquired when I had had my last pap smear, and I told her it was probably in 2003. I have had the complete hysterectomy thing, so the medical community has decided I don't need them anymore. Which is fine by me. I told her, if she wanted to do one, she had better bring a broom for the cob webs and a drill or something, because its been a while since anything has been up my skirt. She laughed and said that her office would not be the place to have one, anyway, so I suggested perhaps a construction site. One wants the necessary tools on hand. We opted to forgo this very necessary diagnostic procedure for most women who have all of their body parts.
I have been depressed lately, as well. I have that feeling that the wheels of unknown design are turning somewhere in the background, not in my favor, and I cannot pin point where they are and for what purpose. Can we say "Paranoid"? I do not know if it is paranoia or just a gut feeling. We still do have those you know, a plain ole gut feeling, that says, "Hey, something is not right here." Always trust that feeling, ok?
I feel at a cross-roads, again!, and, quite frankly, I am too damn old to be at a cross-roads. I want my life to be boringly uneventful.
Best wishes.
Aug 4, 2012
Who Shot the Sheriff? Snoop Drops Rap, Changes Name, Sings Reggae (Listen) - Technorati Music
Who Shot the Sheriff? Snoop Drops Rap, Changes Name, Sings Reggae (Listen) - Technorati Music
OK, I like Snoop Lion. It is quite majestic sounding. And I like reggae, as well. I wish him great success in his new creative venture.
I am thinking of changing my name to Wind Willowtree, as it satisfies some strange creative yearning in me. I do not know at this time what I will be creating, but I will keep you posted.
As always, most sincerely,
The blogger previously known as Just me.
OK, I like Snoop Lion. It is quite majestic sounding. And I like reggae, as well. I wish him great success in his new creative venture.
I am thinking of changing my name to Wind Willowtree, as it satisfies some strange creative yearning in me. I do not know at this time what I will be creating, but I will keep you posted.
As always, most sincerely,
The blogger previously known as Just me.
Jul 18, 2012
I believe this week is the hardest to get through of any in the year. In 2005, Travis was wounded in Hit, Iraq, by and IED device, and died of those wounds on the 21st. During this week, every year, I mourn the fact that no one from his family was there with him. I mourn the fact he died on foreign soil without his family around him. I am saddened that he never saw his youngest daughter, Emma, who, from what I gather by pictures I find here and there on the internet, is growing up to be a beautiful young woman. Of course, Hunter is a handsome young man. Tristan, his young son in the Phillipines, looks so much like him it is unbelievable. I am so very sad that he did not get to know this beautiful young man.
This week brings into focus all that Travis wanted to be, all that he was, and all he will never get the chance to be on this earth. I comfort myself thinking he was surrounded by those who cared for him during his final time here, and I believe they were caring and compassionate.
I never even knew he was wounded. I had moved, so casualty officers did not know where I was. Those who did know did not share the information with me. Would there have been anything I could have done to save my son? The answer is most likely no, but the "what ifs" can be very cruel and persistent.
There are still young men and women being killed everyday in these places, and I do not understand why. Was not the reason we went to Afghanistan in the first place to find Osama Bin Laden? And is he not dead? Did we ever find weapons of mass destruction? Did we not kill Saddam Hussein? Do our military personnel still need to be in these places? Perhaps we are there to instill the wish for freedom. However, ultimately, it is up to the people who live there to find there own way to freedom, if that is their wish. The Afghanistan people fought the Soviets and did all right for themselves.
Let us bring our young people home. They are needed here, by their families, by the ones who love and miss them.
This week brings into focus all that Travis wanted to be, all that he was, and all he will never get the chance to be on this earth. I comfort myself thinking he was surrounded by those who cared for him during his final time here, and I believe they were caring and compassionate.
I never even knew he was wounded. I had moved, so casualty officers did not know where I was. Those who did know did not share the information with me. Would there have been anything I could have done to save my son? The answer is most likely no, but the "what ifs" can be very cruel and persistent.
There are still young men and women being killed everyday in these places, and I do not understand why. Was not the reason we went to Afghanistan in the first place to find Osama Bin Laden? And is he not dead? Did we ever find weapons of mass destruction? Did we not kill Saddam Hussein? Do our military personnel still need to be in these places? Perhaps we are there to instill the wish for freedom. However, ultimately, it is up to the people who live there to find there own way to freedom, if that is their wish. The Afghanistan people fought the Soviets and did all right for themselves.
Let us bring our young people home. They are needed here, by their families, by the ones who love and miss them.
Jul 8, 2012
May
Well, look at this! Here it is May already! The first day of May to be exact. I guess that makes this May day. If I had a May pole, I might actually dance around it with flowers in my hair. Things have been going good for us Youngbloods living here in Virginia. My son is doing well at his job, and soon to have a brand new baby with his beautiful girlfriend. (I am already planning the wedding in my head, but they haven't said anything about such a thing happening.)
I am almost finished with my hateful school work, which is very difficult. You think your doctor is hard to understand during a typical office visit? Just try to transcribe one of his surgical reports. While they are chewing gum or burping! It is one of those hair pulling scenarios.
My son's girlfriend has a little almost 5 year old girl, I have just fallen in love with this child. She is very smart, creative, protective, and has a wonderful sense of humor. She will come and tell me something one of her imaginary friends have done, and puts that hand on her hip and says, "Seriously, he (Cecil or Tada??) is being bad, and he hit Lily (her babydoll rabbit). So, he is in time out." When she gets mad she lets you know and does not tolerate rudeness. My cat Sasha has finally figured out she's staying for the long haul so has learned to accept the fact. She hides a lot in the closet. I do too.
She loves to draw pictures of her feelings, which of course, she doesn't know she is doing. She will draw a picture of me and her, and we will be smiling and holding hands. She draws Sasha, too. When she gets mad, she draws pictures of me with big funky teeth, which makes me think that trip to the dentist is long overdue. I laugh my head off, which of course, infuriates her, and here comes another funky tooth picture. She has not exactly bonded with EJ. In private moments she refers to him as "asshole". I have no idea where she heard that word. I tell her (while trying to hide the fact that I am laughing) she shouldn't say that, but then I do laugh and she does too, and it becomes our little secret laugh. God knows I do not believe my son is an asshole (though we all have a little asshole in us, you know??), but hearing it from a 5-year-old mouth is just funny to me. Seriously.
I am almost finished with my hateful school work, which is very difficult. You think your doctor is hard to understand during a typical office visit? Just try to transcribe one of his surgical reports. While they are chewing gum or burping! It is one of those hair pulling scenarios.
My son's girlfriend has a little almost 5 year old girl, I have just fallen in love with this child. She is very smart, creative, protective, and has a wonderful sense of humor. She will come and tell me something one of her imaginary friends have done, and puts that hand on her hip and says, "Seriously, he (Cecil or Tada??) is being bad, and he hit Lily (her babydoll rabbit). So, he is in time out." When she gets mad she lets you know and does not tolerate rudeness. My cat Sasha has finally figured out she's staying for the long haul so has learned to accept the fact. She hides a lot in the closet. I do too.
She loves to draw pictures of her feelings, which of course, she doesn't know she is doing. She will draw a picture of me and her, and we will be smiling and holding hands. She draws Sasha, too. When she gets mad, she draws pictures of me with big funky teeth, which makes me think that trip to the dentist is long overdue. I laugh my head off, which of course, infuriates her, and here comes another funky tooth picture. She has not exactly bonded with EJ. In private moments she refers to him as "asshole". I have no idea where she heard that word. I tell her (while trying to hide the fact that I am laughing) she shouldn't say that, but then I do laugh and she does too, and it becomes our little secret laugh. God knows I do not believe my son is an asshole (though we all have a little asshole in us, you know??), but hearing it from a 5-year-old mouth is just funny to me. Seriously.
Well, look at this. Yesterday it was January, and here it is today already, and the middle of June, or thereabouts, and I have moved again. This time to a little town on the Potomac river. It is actually a summer community, meaning the rich folks from the city who can actually afford a summer place, come here to ride around the one lane in gulf carts and show off their Potomac tans. We have now been assimilated into the locals, which means, I guess, the poorer people who live here all year long! Wow, and it feels like I just got here!
There is no stoplight in the town here, but there is a post-office and a bank. There are 3 convenience stores that are not further than 6 or 7 miles away. Talk about convenience, whoo! There is 1 school that my little adopted grand-daughter will be going to next year, in kindergarten, and I already anticipate having a few verbal altercations with unsuspecting and probably in the right teachers there. How they do this work of teaching today, in this society, with cellphones and texting, and all the other methods of inattention, I have no idea. They must be made of stronger stuff than I.
I am awaiting the birth of my (we think, almost are sure) grandson. EJ is going to be a proud papa, and he guards his woman well. He is doing great at the moment, and perhaps some of the ghosts and demons of the past are finally losing their grip on him. He will also be a grandfather soon. I know that sounds strange, but its how he sees it, and how we all see it. His step-daughter will be having a boy, before he has his son, I think. I know, it sounds like we are from West Virginia, or Arkansas or somewhere deep in the hills of no-man's land, but we are here in what is called Cole's Point VA.
I do have two other grandchildren by Travis's widow, and one by the love of his life, Lorena. Lorena allows me access to my grandson, Tristan. Travis' widow does not. I figure they will come to me someday demanding answers, and I will welcome them with open arms. I just hope I am still above ground when that happens.
Well, here I am ending with a shoutout to the Holtons in Texas, and Roberts in California. You know who you are!!
There is no stoplight in the town here, but there is a post-office and a bank. There are 3 convenience stores that are not further than 6 or 7 miles away. Talk about convenience, whoo! There is 1 school that my little adopted grand-daughter will be going to next year, in kindergarten, and I already anticipate having a few verbal altercations with unsuspecting and probably in the right teachers there. How they do this work of teaching today, in this society, with cellphones and texting, and all the other methods of inattention, I have no idea. They must be made of stronger stuff than I.
I am awaiting the birth of my (we think, almost are sure) grandson. EJ is going to be a proud papa, and he guards his woman well. He is doing great at the moment, and perhaps some of the ghosts and demons of the past are finally losing their grip on him. He will also be a grandfather soon. I know that sounds strange, but its how he sees it, and how we all see it. His step-daughter will be having a boy, before he has his son, I think. I know, it sounds like we are from West Virginia, or Arkansas or somewhere deep in the hills of no-man's land, but we are here in what is called Cole's Point VA.
I do have two other grandchildren by Travis's widow, and one by the love of his life, Lorena. Lorena allows me access to my grandson, Tristan. Travis' widow does not. I figure they will come to me someday demanding answers, and I will welcome them with open arms. I just hope I am still above ground when that happens.
Well, here I am ending with a shoutout to the Holtons in Texas, and Roberts in California. You know who you are!!
Jul 6, 2012
Psalms, from The holy Bible, King James version
This psalm, more than any other, has always filled me with hope, comfort, and love. When you think about it, what could be greater than someone watching you as you leave every morning and come home every night, making sure you are safe and provided for? Is there anything else we really need? Just felt like sharing.
1: I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
2: My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.
3: He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.
4: Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.
5: The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand.
6: The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.
7: The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.
8: The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.
1: I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.
2: My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth.
3: He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.
4: Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.
5: The LORD is thy keeper: the LORD is thy shade upon thy right hand.
6: The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.
7: The LORD shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.
8: The LORD shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.
Jan 19, 2012
Wow, I guess I should stop by here more often. The whole shebang has changed. It's all so stream-lined. Hmm mm..... I'll have to give it a whirl and see what happens.
I haven't been consistently writing in this blog for about two years now. Things were at a point in my life where I couldn't really think about much else than survival, which is pretty much what the whole freaking country has been doing for the last two years when you think about it.
There are so many people who want to lay all of our country's problems at the feet of President Obama. Well, excuse me, but didn't Obama step into a shit-storm from the get-go, left behind by the previous administration? Hello? Have you all taken your heads out of the sand yet? The previous 8 years, though fun in some ways, kind of set the stage for a lot of crap that Obama is trying to sort through. It's kind of like having your 4-year-old grandchild take over your home office for a year. They write on your documents with crayons, take their round-point scissors and cut out certain parts of important documents, put others through your shredder, leave peanut butter stains on your most precious things, delete this, add this, all in such a way as would only make reasonable sense to a 4 year old. Now, you decide it's time to resume your responsibility for the office, and look what a mess you have to clean up!
If Newt Gingrich should become our next president I will leave the country and become a hermit on some small out of the way island, but first, I will try to take as many innocent people with me as I can. The thought makes my stomach churn. The other Republican candidates seem like a who's who of "Didn't he run a few times before already?" or "Who the hell's this guy?" At least they haven't regurgitated Sarah P......oh, let's not go there. I was actually starting to enjoy this again, so why spoil it now?
I started out by coming across a few blogs I used to read, seeing if the spin had changed, and no such luck. These blogs are mostly comprised of what I would call the southern baptist stump preacher's way of preaching about the joys of atheism. And don't act like you don't know what I mean. They are full of their own fire and brimstone pointing the way to a hellish existence for everyone and everyone's crazy brother if you do not stop believing in this sinful beast called God, excuse me, "god"! The woes of belief are many, and the rewards are few, to hear these guys tell it. In their minds, nothing is more sinful than giving yourself over to a higher power, and you are committing an act of unbridled insanity and destroying our country's moral fiber by doing so.
Well, excuse me. They sound so much like your typical evangelist foaming at the mouth and passing the plate, that I am waiting for them to remind us that costs money, and if you truly believe that there isn't anything out there but black holes, then you must help support the cost, $1 at a time.
Here's what I think. I will believe what I want to believe, and nothing anyone else screams or shouts or stamps their foot and says "you are so wrong", is gonna change my mind. I believe in a higher power. I always will. I just don't think I evolved from a slug or other such weird looking creature. I am not saying that Darwin was wrong. I do believe the strongest adapt and change and perpetuate the species. I, however, reserve the right to say "under God" in the pledge of allegiance if I want to. And no one can tell me I can't. I can read the Bible and interpret it however I want to, for my own purposes, for my own life, and no one can say no you can't.... I can even say, "Gosh, I don't know." and no one can say I'm wrong. That is what freedom is.
I am so tired of hearing about this act of Marines urinating on dead bodies. Well, let's say for the sake of argument, it might be true. Let's say you have been in a country where these people or people who look like these people or people who try to look like these people have been constantly trying to shoot your ass, blow you up, blow up your friends, and they don't have to follow the same rules you do. They are not held accountable for whatever atrocities they may commit. Let's say this has been going on for about a year now. Let's say you are tired of not sleeping, you have sand in your hair, mouth, shoes, socks, and you are pretty sick of sand. Let's say you watched your best buddy get blown up, why was it yesterday or the day before, you don't remember because time seems to be something irrelevant now. You find that if someone so much as coughs, you jump nearly out of your sand-filled boots. Given these circumstances, and given the fact that after this particular fight, you am still alive and breathing, there's no telling what you might do, after realizing that you are, yes, going to live a few minutes longer. Shit happens in war. That's why they call it war. If it was fun and followed rules, well, hell, we would all be wanting to join up, now wouldn't we?
I haven't been consistently writing in this blog for about two years now. Things were at a point in my life where I couldn't really think about much else than survival, which is pretty much what the whole freaking country has been doing for the last two years when you think about it.
There are so many people who want to lay all of our country's problems at the feet of President Obama. Well, excuse me, but didn't Obama step into a shit-storm from the get-go, left behind by the previous administration? Hello? Have you all taken your heads out of the sand yet? The previous 8 years, though fun in some ways, kind of set the stage for a lot of crap that Obama is trying to sort through. It's kind of like having your 4-year-old grandchild take over your home office for a year. They write on your documents with crayons, take their round-point scissors and cut out certain parts of important documents, put others through your shredder, leave peanut butter stains on your most precious things, delete this, add this, all in such a way as would only make reasonable sense to a 4 year old. Now, you decide it's time to resume your responsibility for the office, and look what a mess you have to clean up!
If Newt Gingrich should become our next president I will leave the country and become a hermit on some small out of the way island, but first, I will try to take as many innocent people with me as I can. The thought makes my stomach churn. The other Republican candidates seem like a who's who of "Didn't he run a few times before already?" or "Who the hell's this guy?" At least they haven't regurgitated Sarah P......oh, let's not go there. I was actually starting to enjoy this again, so why spoil it now?
I started out by coming across a few blogs I used to read, seeing if the spin had changed, and no such luck. These blogs are mostly comprised of what I would call the southern baptist stump preacher's way of preaching about the joys of atheism. And don't act like you don't know what I mean. They are full of their own fire and brimstone pointing the way to a hellish existence for everyone and everyone's crazy brother if you do not stop believing in this sinful beast called God, excuse me, "god"! The woes of belief are many, and the rewards are few, to hear these guys tell it. In their minds, nothing is more sinful than giving yourself over to a higher power, and you are committing an act of unbridled insanity and destroying our country's moral fiber by doing so.
Well, excuse me. They sound so much like your typical evangelist foaming at the mouth and passing the plate, that I am waiting for them to remind us that costs money, and if you truly believe that there isn't anything out there but black holes, then you must help support the cost, $1 at a time.
Here's what I think. I will believe what I want to believe, and nothing anyone else screams or shouts or stamps their foot and says "you are so wrong", is gonna change my mind. I believe in a higher power. I always will. I just don't think I evolved from a slug or other such weird looking creature. I am not saying that Darwin was wrong. I do believe the strongest adapt and change and perpetuate the species. I, however, reserve the right to say "under God" in the pledge of allegiance if I want to. And no one can tell me I can't. I can read the Bible and interpret it however I want to, for my own purposes, for my own life, and no one can say no you can't.... I can even say, "Gosh, I don't know." and no one can say I'm wrong. That is what freedom is.
I am so tired of hearing about this act of Marines urinating on dead bodies. Well, let's say for the sake of argument, it might be true. Let's say you have been in a country where these people or people who look like these people or people who try to look like these people have been constantly trying to shoot your ass, blow you up, blow up your friends, and they don't have to follow the same rules you do. They are not held accountable for whatever atrocities they may commit. Let's say this has been going on for about a year now. Let's say you are tired of not sleeping, you have sand in your hair, mouth, shoes, socks, and you are pretty sick of sand. Let's say you watched your best buddy get blown up, why was it yesterday or the day before, you don't remember because time seems to be something irrelevant now. You find that if someone so much as coughs, you jump nearly out of your sand-filled boots. Given these circumstances, and given the fact that after this particular fight, you am still alive and breathing, there's no telling what you might do, after realizing that you are, yes, going to live a few minutes longer. Shit happens in war. That's why they call it war. If it was fun and followed rules, well, hell, we would all be wanting to join up, now wouldn't we?
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