So I thought I would do a Meme...stolen from someone who stole it from someone and so on and so on...............
WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
My first name came from my mother's mother. My middle name from my mother's best friend
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? I am a very sappy girl...it doesn't take much. It was probably yesterday
DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? I am right-handed but my writing looks as if it is written by a lefty as it slants left...I mostly print. I guess I am indifferent
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Turkey if I have to eat lunch meat!
DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Yes. Two beautiful daughters and one phenomenal son.
IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Better to be my friend than be my enemy!
DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? I have to. I work with middle schoolers!
DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Yes and hope to keep them forever. My daughter had them out at 19 and it was the worst thing we have ever gone through!
WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? HELL NO!
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? I could live on cereal. I rotate between Golden Grahams, Rice Chex, Lucky Charms and Corn Pops.
DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? No
DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? I have had to be.
WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Not a huge ice cream eater...just plain ole vanilla
WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Eyes and teeth and then their soul
RED OR PINK? Not too partial to either. Have an equal amount of both in my wardrobe. But my bathroom is hot pink.
WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? My little toe
WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? My mom
WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING? Brown on both accounts
WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU ATE? A mixture of fresh fruit
WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? The humming of the refrigerator and the dogs snoring
IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Magenta
FAVORITE SMELLS? A child's hair after they have played in the sun all day...lilacs
WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? My husband
FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Hockey
HAIR COLOR[S]? My true color...who knows???? Bottle color...blonde for the summer
EYE COLOR? blue
DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Yes and glasses too...it sucks
FAVORITE FOOD? Really don't have one. I don't live to eat...I eat to live
SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? I prefer the happy ending of a good action flick
LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? Mama Mia...just fun!
WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Tan
SUMMER OR WINTER? Summer on my lake
HUGS OR KISSES? Wow...I guess it would depend on who is doing the hugging and the kissing
FAVORITE DESSERT? Anything sweet
MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND? To what?
WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? Gentlemen's Blood: A History of Dueling...no really it is very interesting
YOUR MOUSE PAD? Don't have one
WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT? "So You Think You Can Dance"...I wish I could
FAVORITE SOUND[S]? A child's laughter, my kid's laughing together, my daughter singing
ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? The Stones
WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME? Ireland
DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I can touch my nose with my tongue
WHERE WERE YOU BORN? Cincinnati, Ohio
Thursday, July 31, 2008
I got nuttin' today
I am totally uninspired...tired I guess. Maybe later.
So here is something to hold you over: meet George...he is Henry's best friend! They just finished playing tug-of-war with the stuffed animal...Henry won.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
My Boys
Batman and RobinThe boy, not related to the man by blood...yet he calls him Papa.
Papa...the young man's favorite playmate.
Me...lucky to have them both!
A Litmus Test
Have you ever found yourself in the bar at the end of the evening looking through the haze of Jack or Jim's amber colored goggles thinking, "Oh she's/he's so hot...I think I'll take him/her home!"? Well...before you pick up that paramour du jour, ask yourself this one question: "Would I leave this person alone with my guns?"
If you can't trust them with your guns...you can't trust them with YOU.
Seems logical to me............................
Thanks CdmP for the inspiration
Monday, July 28, 2008
Through the Eyes of a Child
It was a very busy weekend at the lake. Lots of family dropping in...daughters, boyfriends, friends and friend's boyfriends. Also along for the ride was our surrogate four year old grandson...perpetual motion, constant noise and a mess everywhere he went.
Boys will be boys
There is something about having a child around that makes you look at things differently. Maybe see things a bit closer...stop to look awhile longer...listen a little closer...laugh a little harder and definitely smile a whole alot more.I was reminded this weekend, as I watched the world through the eyes of this young man, of something else Randy Pausch said, "never lose that child like wonder."
You should try looking at life through the eyes of a child every now and then...the world looks a whole lot different...maybe a little brighter...even when you are sitting in brown lake water.
You Know...
If you don't hold onto your hammer tight enough it just might end up in the lake and you won't be able to finish the dock. Bummer!
Saturday, July 26, 2008
No Monkey Business Here....
As Japanese reporters descended upon the Ishikawa Zoo we were the only ones to get an interview with the now infamous 42 year old chimpanzee, Ichiro:
Reporter: Mr. Ichiro why did you feel it necessary to stage your rooftop protest?
Ichiro: We animals at the zoo are tired of the conditions. It is just damned hot. We need air conditioning!
Reporter: But a rooftop protest? Even though Japan has some of the toughest gun laws in the world, didn't you know they would bring out the big ones?
Ichiro: Guns, schums...did you see the way I jerked that gun out of that clothes wearing, upright walking, homo sapien's hand? If I had held onto it I would have shot him and everyone else right in the ass. Then it would have been naptime for bonzo!
Reporter: Mr. Ichiro, your protest came to an end when your keeper offered you a banana. Does that mean your terms were met?
Ichiro: No, it just means I disarmed the bad guy and it was time for dinner. I will work on the rest another day.
Reporter: Mr. Ichiro why did you feel it necessary to stage your rooftop protest?
Ichiro: We animals at the zoo are tired of the conditions. It is just damned hot. We need air conditioning!
Reporter: But a rooftop protest? Even though Japan has some of the toughest gun laws in the world, didn't you know they would bring out the big ones?
Ichiro: Guns, schums...did you see the way I jerked that gun out of that clothes wearing, upright walking, homo sapien's hand? If I had held onto it I would have shot him and everyone else right in the ass. Then it would have been naptime for bonzo!
Reporter: Mr. Ichiro, your protest came to an end when your keeper offered you a banana. Does that mean your terms were met?
Ichiro: No, it just means I disarmed the bad guy and it was time for dinner. I will work on the rest another day.
Good morning
I am sitting here in the early morning alone, drinking my tea listening to Henry talk to me softly across the room. The sky is hazy this morning. The clouds are thick and complete. The sun is making its way quickly into the morning sky through a fissure created only for purposes of sunrises.
It is reminiscent of the moonrise I watched just a short week ago. At first I see just a hint of the glowing arc as the top of the orb peeks above the haze. As it rises, it is bright orange, so bright I can barely look at it without hurting my eyes. It casts a reflective path of fire the width of the lake. I just know that if I walked to the end of my dock and touched the water, it would be warmer there.
Moments like these are fleeting and just as quickly as it appeared, the sun is gone. The giant orange ball of fire is enveloped back into the clouds from which it appeared. The fire on the water doused, returned to the cool and gray. And here come the fishermen, standing at attention on their boat as it glides through the water, working their poles quietly on this tranquil Saturday morning.
Life on the lake starts early...I know why.
It is reminiscent of the moonrise I watched just a short week ago. At first I see just a hint of the glowing arc as the top of the orb peeks above the haze. As it rises, it is bright orange, so bright I can barely look at it without hurting my eyes. It casts a reflective path of fire the width of the lake. I just know that if I walked to the end of my dock and touched the water, it would be warmer there.
Moments like these are fleeting and just as quickly as it appeared, the sun is gone. The giant orange ball of fire is enveloped back into the clouds from which it appeared. The fire on the water doused, returned to the cool and gray. And here come the fishermen, standing at attention on their boat as it glides through the water, working their poles quietly on this tranquil Saturday morning.
Life on the lake starts early...I know why.
Friday, July 25, 2008
What I learned
Randy Pausch...a year ago I did not know who he was. Most people didn't. Isn't that always the way it is? A man or woman who is so brilliant, so captivating, and yet few beyond their inner circle get to experience their brightness until tragedy strikes. So was the circumstance of Dr. Pausch. Now he is gone. His words however, will last for many lifetimes to come. I have watched his lectures, those which he is now most famous for, several times. They are full of wisdom, wit and grace. And he has left a lasting impression on me with several of his dying thoughts and confirmed some others I already knew.
Find your passion he says! And he is most passionate and absolutely adamant when he says, "you will not find it in things...you will not find it in money." For he tells us, if that is what you chose to measure yourself by, there will always be those who have more than you and you will always be disappointed. Find your passion in people he advises. So wise for a man so young!
"Brick walls are there for a reason...they let us prove how badly we want things." And often
times we may end up with bruises because we have run into that wall once or twice or even three or four times trying to get over it. But OMG the satisfaction once we have scaled that wall!
And finally, "Don't bail. The best of the gold is at the bottom of the barrel of crap." Though Dr. Pausch had many, many things to say, I will hold this one dear. When the last bit of tenacity has left me and I have no more energy for whatever task is at hand, I will think of the good Dr. and his short but profound journey, hoping he and his family found whatever gold they could through all the crap in their barrel and then dive into my own barrel of crap and dig a little deeper.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Meet Henry
He is my other self-defense item of choice. We get funny looks when we walk down the street. Once a guy even asked if he could take our picture. I don't get what all the fuss is about. Do you?
You know.....
If you are going to get that drunk and get behind the wheel, you should do the rest of us a favor and hit the board hard enough that the we don't have to worry about you ever again. You may have been lucky...but I don't think the rest of us are.
Monday, July 21, 2008
I Found the Empty Case in the Back Seat
I have been contemplating writing about this for some time. The words will not come easy and my heart will threaten to burst from my chest as the pain consumes me. I will taste the salt of my tears as they roll from my eyes as I relive one of the most painful times in my life...but I have to have my say.
Many of you who may read this are bloggers yourself. And many of you who may read this are concerned with the right to keep and bear arms. Many of you may be my friends and many may have just stumbled across me. Regardless of the reason you find yourself here, if you have been here before, you know that I too, believe my right to keep and bear arms is sacred. I stand up for it, I support it and I above all practice it.
But there is one thing I will not do. I will not stand idly by and listen without comment, as others, reporters, bloggers or the common man on the street, make sport of a subject as serious as the taking of one's own life. Please bear with me....this isn't easy.
Recently, there have been a plethora of information related to suicides and the ownership of firearms. The debate swings like a wrecking ball, back and forth, back and forth. Yes, the anti-gunners say: "If you bought a gun today, I could tell you the risk of suicide to you and your family members is going to be two- to tenfold higher over the next 20 years,"
No, the gun advocates retort: "there are at least 13 published studies finding no meaningful connection between the rate of firearms ownership and the rate of suicides. The number of guns in a nation tells you nothing about its suicide rate." Sometimes I feel like I am in the path of the wrecking ball.
The anti's use suicide by gun as a means to ban them. If I really believed their intent was to save lives, then I would have to give them credit for their misguided deeds. But that isn't their intent and we all know it. They need to quit adjusting the truth.
Gunnies seem to feel the need to use these articles to support their right to keep and bear arms. They also seem to feel the need to make sport of people who use other methods of suicide: specifically the Japanese. If I have to read one more sentence about banning ropes, knives, chlorine gas etc. I am going to scream. This argument too, is disingenuous. We all know there is no banning of these items...so why even suggest doing so? Suicide is not amusing and we are supposed to be the righteous ones.
It is true, the nation has one of the strictest firearm bans and one of the highest suicide rates. It is also true, those Japanese who commit suicide find numerous ways to do so. In fact, I think we all know that anyone who is really intent on committing suicide is going to use whatever means they can to do so. My brother did.
He was 29 years old and he shot himself in the chest with a 22 caliber pistol in his car. The bullet penetrated the right side of his heart, followed a path through the left and exited under his left arm. He was air lifted from an Arizona desert to the hospital where his chest was cracked open in an attempt to save his life. It was futile. The rest of the details aren't important.
What is important is this: Did having a gun make my brother's suicide easier for him? I can say without a doubt, yes. Would he have committed suicide if he had not had a gun? I don't know. Do I blame the gun for what happened to my brother? NO...I don't blame anyone, not even him.
My brother was sick, as are most of the people who commit suicide. There is often an underlying mental illness attached to the victim that drives them to take their own lives. Where is the talk and blogging about getting help for the illnesses that plague these people, instead of banning the object of death du jour.
This should be the focus of this argument. This is what will save lives. And if that is what the argument is about, saving lives, isn't that what we should be talking about? I want both sides to stop using suicide as a platform for the right to keep and bear arms. IT ISN'T THE PLACE! The only time death belongs on this platform is when we, the good guys, are taking down the bad guys.
Many of you who may read this are bloggers yourself. And many of you who may read this are concerned with the right to keep and bear arms. Many of you may be my friends and many may have just stumbled across me. Regardless of the reason you find yourself here, if you have been here before, you know that I too, believe my right to keep and bear arms is sacred. I stand up for it, I support it and I above all practice it.
But there is one thing I will not do. I will not stand idly by and listen without comment, as others, reporters, bloggers or the common man on the street, make sport of a subject as serious as the taking of one's own life. Please bear with me....this isn't easy.
Recently, there have been a plethora of information related to suicides and the ownership of firearms. The debate swings like a wrecking ball, back and forth, back and forth. Yes, the anti-gunners say: "If you bought a gun today, I could tell you the risk of suicide to you and your family members is going to be two- to tenfold higher over the next 20 years,"
No, the gun advocates retort: "there are at least 13 published studies finding no meaningful connection between the rate of firearms ownership and the rate of suicides. The number of guns in a nation tells you nothing about its suicide rate." Sometimes I feel like I am in the path of the wrecking ball.
The anti's use suicide by gun as a means to ban them. If I really believed their intent was to save lives, then I would have to give them credit for their misguided deeds. But that isn't their intent and we all know it. They need to quit adjusting the truth.
Gunnies seem to feel the need to use these articles to support their right to keep and bear arms. They also seem to feel the need to make sport of people who use other methods of suicide: specifically the Japanese. If I have to read one more sentence about banning ropes, knives, chlorine gas etc. I am going to scream. This argument too, is disingenuous. We all know there is no banning of these items...so why even suggest doing so? Suicide is not amusing and we are supposed to be the righteous ones.
It is true, the nation has one of the strictest firearm bans and one of the highest suicide rates. It is also true, those Japanese who commit suicide find numerous ways to do so. In fact, I think we all know that anyone who is really intent on committing suicide is going to use whatever means they can to do so. My brother did.
He was 29 years old and he shot himself in the chest with a 22 caliber pistol in his car. The bullet penetrated the right side of his heart, followed a path through the left and exited under his left arm. He was air lifted from an Arizona desert to the hospital where his chest was cracked open in an attempt to save his life. It was futile. The rest of the details aren't important.
What is important is this: Did having a gun make my brother's suicide easier for him? I can say without a doubt, yes. Would he have committed suicide if he had not had a gun? I don't know. Do I blame the gun for what happened to my brother? NO...I don't blame anyone, not even him.
My brother was sick, as are most of the people who commit suicide. There is often an underlying mental illness attached to the victim that drives them to take their own lives. Where is the talk and blogging about getting help for the illnesses that plague these people, instead of banning the object of death du jour.
This should be the focus of this argument. This is what will save lives. And if that is what the argument is about, saving lives, isn't that what we should be talking about? I want both sides to stop using suicide as a platform for the right to keep and bear arms. IT ISN'T THE PLACE! The only time death belongs on this platform is when we, the good guys, are taking down the bad guys.
147 Years Ago....
today the Battle of Bull Run was fought near Manassas, Virginia. It was the first major battle of the Civil War. It is named so after a stream that flows along the now famous battle ground. Many also refer to the this famous battle as the Battle at Manassas.
Three unseasoned Brigadier Generals, Irvin McDowell, (Union Army), Joseph E. Johnston, and P.G.T. Beauregard (both commanding the Confederate Army), led their troops into battle for a cause that each believed was paramount to this nation. One side striving to keep this young and growing nation intact...the other striving to tear it apart.
The Battle of Bull Run lasted less than a full day and was heavy in losses on both sides. Reports claim casualties on the union side ranged around the 3,000 mark for dead, wounded and captured. The Confederate's fared only slightly better with around 2,ooo.
Though this battle took place nearly 150 years ago, there are those who are still fighting this war. This became evident to me on a trip to Georgia several years ago. I found myself visiting the town of Kennesaw, Georgia (the one place where homeowners are required by law to possess a firearm). This is also the town where you can visit The General , the famous locomotive that was highjacked during the Civil War.
I was dumbfounded by the number of places I visited that displayed what I will call propaganda about the 'North' and those 'Yankees' (not the baseball team). It was a type of bigotry I had never experienced. And the anger that still existed in some places at having 'lost' the war was at times palpable. It was eerie. I was very glad to return to my 'northern' roots.
So take some time today and learn a little history. You might find you will learn something you did not know...afterall, the Civil War was not fought over slavery...did you know that?
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Humbled
Well...today was an interesting day. I shot a real high power match. The course of fire was 80 rounds and you know, I don't think I can even remember what it was. I am so physically and mentally exhausted I can barely type let alone think!
I know I shot some off hand (standing) and some sitting and some prone. There was slow and rapid fire and there was 200 yards, 300 yards and 600 yards. The first course of fire was 22 shots (two sighters, 20 for record), off hand slow fire, at 200 yards. The last course of fire was 22 shots (same as above) slow fire prone, at 600 yards simulated. Everything else in between is a blur!
The temperature was around 90 degrees. It was sticky humid...the air so thick you could stir it. The sun was blazing most of the time...although there was an occasional merciful cloud in the sky. The only saving grace was a gentle breeze from time to time.
As the title above states, I was humbled. After last week's monumental success, my giant head was deflated today. I can't report my exact scores on each course of fire, I didn't write them down (clue, clue, clue)...I will tell you of one very sorry experience.
Picture this...course of fire is 10 shots rapid fire sitting at 200 yards. I am at the ready...first siter is in the 10 ring. I am ready to go. Site picture looks good...position is giving me some grief but I feel okay. Ready, steady now...remember follow through...don't raise your head off the stock...and go. Load magazine...one, two, three, four....shoot.....one, two, three, four.....shoot. Drop the magazine load another with eight cartridges and go...one, two, three, four....shoot.....and so on until the bolt stays open.........................finished.
Rest.....Ahhhhhh..........Target drops and nothing more to do but wait for my shots to be scored. Target comes back up and a question comes from the pit, "what do you want to do about target seven...is she going to shoot her course?" WHAT DO YOU MEAN IS SHE GOING TO SHOOT HER COURSE? I SHOT MY COURSE!
I looked at the target. There was nothing on it. I completely missed it. Yet I am sure that when I was looking through the sites I had a great site picture...I just don't know what I was looking at. But whatever it was it was consistent cause not one bullet hit that target. I guess if you are going to be that bad you should at least be consistently bad.
So that is how the rest of the day went. To paraphrase one of my favorites, when I was good...I was really good and when I was bad...I was really bad. Humbled I may be...but certainly not discouraged.
I will be back...and when I return hopefully I will have some of my own equipment...that should really help. In addition, I am optimistic the weather conditions will improve. With these mere changes I am sure I will see an improvement in my ability. Afterall, it can't get any worse than zero out of 100 now can it?.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Full Moons #2
I am enamored by the moon when it reaches it's fullest phase. Now that I am in the perfect geographical location to watch the moonrise, I make it a point to know the moon cycle. This is to ensure that I am poised to be sitting on the dock when the moon begins it's ascent into the night sky.
Friday, July 18th was the true full moon. Although I swear, I would be hard pressed to say it wasn't full Thursday night. Friday had been a very hot and steamy day at the lake and I had decided to take a shower knowing I might miss the moment the moon made its way into the night sky.
I was just out of the shower and my phone rang. It was Mr. W. He said, "have you seen the moon?" I looked out the patio doors and searched the dark sky above my lake. "I can't find it W, where is it?" "Just above the tree line, look just above the tree line."
Across the lake, as if it was rising from the trees themselves, was the moon. With barely one third of the celestial body visible, there was already a luminescent glow cast upon the water. Streaks of orange flames danced gently back and forth as the water swayed with the wind.
As it rose higher into the sky I was reminded of the children's story "James and the Giant Peach". The moon was the color of a peach and it cast a blush into the sky. As it rose higher, the blush changed from a deep orange to a pale yellow. The whole picture was breathtaking. I am so lucky to live here!
I thought you might be interested in a few facts and folklore about full moons:
The July full moon is called the Buck moon because this is when the new antlers of the buck deer push out of their foreheads in coatings of velvety fur.
The word lunatic comes from the Latin word Luna for Moon
Crimes of violence increase at the full moon (a good reason to have your self-defense item of choice on hand and at the ready!).
A letter to Jesse
Jesse, Jesse Jesse...now you are in trouble for using the mother of all 'N' words. I bet you have been squirming in your pants just waiting for this one to hit the press. Had that apology written for days did you? How do you think your public is going to react?
It seems you got off fairly easy with the last 'n' reference. I have to say I was taken aback by your violent nature considering you are a man of the cloth. I know a lot of people who carry guns and I have never heard one of them threaten to shoot another man's...well you know.
Your choice of words has certainly been interesting lately. You know...maybe you should read the post below and take some of my advice. I can't help but wonder though, (not to pull out the race card), how would this situation be treated say, if John McCain had uttered those same two 'N' words in the same situation.
Me thinks there would be bovine being birthed in the streets and the Rainbow Coalition would be telling them to PUSH!
It seems you got off fairly easy with the last 'n' reference. I have to say I was taken aback by your violent nature considering you are a man of the cloth. I know a lot of people who carry guns and I have never heard one of them threaten to shoot another man's...well you know.
Your choice of words has certainly been interesting lately. You know...maybe you should read the post below and take some of my advice. I can't help but wonder though, (not to pull out the race card), how would this situation be treated say, if John McCain had uttered those same two 'N' words in the same situation.
Me thinks there would be bovine being birthed in the streets and the Rainbow Coalition would be telling them to PUSH!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Words #2
Words...they are powerful. We can speak them...we can write them...we can read them...we can put them to a melody and sing them. Words touch us to our very core. They have the ability to make us laugh. But often they make us cry. Words bring us happiness as well as sadness.
Words can build us up, allowing us to feel as if we are standing on the highest mountain. Or they can tear us down so far that the bowels of hell would be a step up. Words can make us or words can crush us.
Words...they are powerful. And their power grows exponentially when they are propagated from malevolence and dispersed to the masses. Often the damage done by those words, whether written or spoken, is irreparable...hearts are forever broken...lives forever ruined.
I am not a golfer...but today a headline caught my attention: "John Daly blames coach for ruined reputation." Not sure Daly needed any help, but that's not my point. What is my point you ask?
Did John Daly's coach mean him ill will? I don't know...but I do know this: John thinks so. And his coach (or ex-coach) just spoke a few words.
I suspect many do not respect words today and do not measure what leaves their oral cavities before they speak or the end of their digits before they type. This is especially important today as with the information highway, those words are out there FOREVER!
There are individuals who intentionally use the power of words for no other purpose than to destroy, to cause mayhem and to deliver pain. They are the miserable individuals who envy those who use the power of words to enrich the live the others...the poets, the songwriters and maybe even the bloggers! Hell, maybe they are just miserable with themselves!
This dynamic quote from Rudyard Kipling says it all, "Words are the most powerful drug used by mankind," and I intend to use them carefully, thoughtfully and with respect. I hope you will do the same.
Words can build us up, allowing us to feel as if we are standing on the highest mountain. Or they can tear us down so far that the bowels of hell would be a step up. Words can make us or words can crush us.
Words...they are powerful. And their power grows exponentially when they are propagated from malevolence and dispersed to the masses. Often the damage done by those words, whether written or spoken, is irreparable...hearts are forever broken...lives forever ruined.
I am not a golfer...but today a headline caught my attention: "John Daly blames coach for ruined reputation." Not sure Daly needed any help, but that's not my point. What is my point you ask?
Did John Daly's coach mean him ill will? I don't know...but I do know this: John thinks so. And his coach (or ex-coach) just spoke a few words.
I suspect many do not respect words today and do not measure what leaves their oral cavities before they speak or the end of their digits before they type. This is especially important today as with the information highway, those words are out there FOREVER!
There are individuals who intentionally use the power of words for no other purpose than to destroy, to cause mayhem and to deliver pain. They are the miserable individuals who envy those who use the power of words to enrich the live the others...the poets, the songwriters and maybe even the bloggers! Hell, maybe they are just miserable with themselves!
This dynamic quote from Rudyard Kipling says it all, "Words are the most powerful drug used by mankind," and I intend to use them carefully, thoughtfully and with respect. I hope you will do the same.
WOW
"Gee you like me...you really like me." Oh reality check, reality check. This isn't the Oscar's and I am not Sally, but boy I sure did feel popular yesterday. And a thank you speech is definitely in order. I promise to keep it short and sweet.
To the people...to all of you who read it, THANK YOU! To Mr. Brent Greer author of The Ready Line for submitting my "Birth of a Gun Nut" To Keepandbeararms.com. Without you it would not have happened. To Keepandbeararms.com for thinking my story was good enough to run. To SayUncle for also picking up my story and being so touched by my words. And finally, but certainly not last, to Black-rifle.com for also thinking my story was worthy.
I had 903 hits in one day from all 50 states and many foreign countries. People from Thailand and Budapest were reading me. Budapest for goodness sakes! My head is still spinning and I haven't quit smiling.
To the people...to all of you who read it, THANK YOU! To Mr. Brent Greer author of The Ready Line for submitting my "Birth of a Gun Nut" To Keepandbeararms.com. Without you it would not have happened. To Keepandbeararms.com for thinking my story was good enough to run. To SayUncle for also picking up my story and being so touched by my words. And finally, but certainly not last, to Black-rifle.com for also thinking my story was worthy.
I had 903 hits in one day from all 50 states and many foreign countries. People from Thailand and Budapest were reading me. Budapest for goodness sakes! My head is still spinning and I haven't quit smiling.
Monday, July 14, 2008
The Birth of a Gun Nut
As a child I had no interest in guns. I knew my father had some. I knew where he kept them. But strangely enough, I didn't have that insatiable curiosity that most children have, so I never covertly snuck into the bedroom to rummage through the closet to find the forbidden treasure. My father's firearms held no significance to me and ultimately I ended up regretting that.
But regret is a less than productive emotion. It bogs you down and keeps you from moving forward. So instead of embracing regret, I decided to embrace what my father enjoyed...things that go bang.
The story begins with this gun and this man. The man is my father and the gun is a 1942 Luger (all matching numbers).
Imagine two people in the early years of their marriage. The time is somewhere in the late 1950s. They have a young son and not too much to live on. Life is not bad...but there are struggles. The husband goes to work as a lab technician and the wife stays home with the infant. Household income is approximately $50.00 per week.
The husband works hard and asks for little. But there is one thing he wants. He has his eye on a gun...a very special gun. It is a 1942 German Luger with all matching numbers. It is truly a work of art. The cost is also half of his weekly wage and completely unattainable. If nothing else, he is a practical man and $25 buys a lot of food and pays a lot of bills. He will put his dream aside for his family.
The wife, knowing how desperately her husband wants this gun, and how deserving he is, decides come hell or high water he will have it. And somehow she finds a way. She presents him with his dream....the Luger becomes his. For half his weekly wage, he now possesses the firearm he only once dreamed of owning.
Fast forward 20 years. The same man and woman now have three children...two boys and one girl (she is the youngest). The Luger and a 45 ACP are stored in the bedroom closet. The young sons, who are teenagers and extremly inquisitive, have shown their father's precious possessions to friends of less than upstanding character. It isn't long before the firearms come up missing. The man is devastated.
Fortunately, teenagers generally talk too much and word on the street gets around quickly. The scumbag who has the Luger in his possession is found rather quickly and it is returned sans a magazine. Unfortunately, the 45 ACP never does reappear.
Fast forward to 1994, the man is sick...very sick. He is not going to live. Still the daughter has no interest in the things he has that go bang. There is one son living...he will take possession of all (and there are many) of the items that require gun powder to function...not all were firearms. The man liked things that went BOOM.
All was quiet until 1997...then the son died and the daughter was faced with an extraordinary dilemma. There were guns...OMG were there guns. There were long guns and short guns and semi-automatic guns and revolvers and black powder guns, for you see not only did the father like things that went 'bang' but the son did as well. And guess what else there was....there was the Luger.
So the daughter brought the plethora of firearms home. She sold all but one of them (yes, I am kicking myself now). She kept the Luger. She kept it because she could not part with the legacy that was her father. The story that was her mother. The love that surrounded the chunk of metal that meant so much to the two of them...both gone.
It went back to the shelf in the closet it had laid upon for so many years (I live in the same house I was raised in) and it slept there for several years. One day I heard it call to me...a firearm does no good unused...serves no purpose unfired...protects no one without bullets through its barrel. I could no longer render it useless...my father would not approve. I needed to honor him. I needed to learn to shoot and I needed to learn to do so with HIS gun.
The Luger proved to be an accurate firearm for a first time shooter...it did not let me down. My groups were admirable at 20 feet and bought me praise from my instructor. I wonder to this day if my father was helping me place those shots on the paper, as I continue to think it was too easy. And while my father's prized firearm did me proud...that was the first and only time I have shot it. Confession...I didn't like it! The Luger's personality and mine does not mix...it bites!
It was cathartic. It was emotional. It was exciting. It was sad. It was fulfilling and then it was empty. I missed my dad. It should have been him standing behind me praising my every shot. Why is it that so often we find things out after it is too late?
I guess this is where that old cliche' fits in nicely: "better late than never." And I am so glad I arrived at this party late instead of never. For I have learned so much. I have not only learned that the gun is the 'ultimate equalizer' but I have learned that regret can be turned into joy.
But regret is a less than productive emotion. It bogs you down and keeps you from moving forward. So instead of embracing regret, I decided to embrace what my father enjoyed...things that go bang.
The story begins with this gun and this man. The man is my father and the gun is a 1942 Luger (all matching numbers).
Imagine two people in the early years of their marriage. The time is somewhere in the late 1950s. They have a young son and not too much to live on. Life is not bad...but there are struggles. The husband goes to work as a lab technician and the wife stays home with the infant. Household income is approximately $50.00 per week.
The husband works hard and asks for little. But there is one thing he wants. He has his eye on a gun...a very special gun. It is a 1942 German Luger with all matching numbers. It is truly a work of art. The cost is also half of his weekly wage and completely unattainable. If nothing else, he is a practical man and $25 buys a lot of food and pays a lot of bills. He will put his dream aside for his family.
The wife, knowing how desperately her husband wants this gun, and how deserving he is, decides come hell or high water he will have it. And somehow she finds a way. She presents him with his dream....the Luger becomes his. For half his weekly wage, he now possesses the firearm he only once dreamed of owning.
Fast forward 20 years. The same man and woman now have three children...two boys and one girl (she is the youngest). The Luger and a 45 ACP are stored in the bedroom closet. The young sons, who are teenagers and extremly inquisitive, have shown their father's precious possessions to friends of less than upstanding character. It isn't long before the firearms come up missing. The man is devastated.
Fortunately, teenagers generally talk too much and word on the street gets around quickly. The scumbag who has the Luger in his possession is found rather quickly and it is returned sans a magazine. Unfortunately, the 45 ACP never does reappear.
Fast forward to 1994, the man is sick...very sick. He is not going to live. Still the daughter has no interest in the things he has that go bang. There is one son living...he will take possession of all (and there are many) of the items that require gun powder to function...not all were firearms. The man liked things that went BOOM.
All was quiet until 1997...then the son died and the daughter was faced with an extraordinary dilemma. There were guns...OMG were there guns. There were long guns and short guns and semi-automatic guns and revolvers and black powder guns, for you see not only did the father like things that went 'bang' but the son did as well. And guess what else there was....there was the Luger.
So the daughter brought the plethora of firearms home. She sold all but one of them (yes, I am kicking myself now). She kept the Luger. She kept it because she could not part with the legacy that was her father. The story that was her mother. The love that surrounded the chunk of metal that meant so much to the two of them...both gone.
It went back to the shelf in the closet it had laid upon for so many years (I live in the same house I was raised in) and it slept there for several years. One day I heard it call to me...a firearm does no good unused...serves no purpose unfired...protects no one without bullets through its barrel. I could no longer render it useless...my father would not approve. I needed to honor him. I needed to learn to shoot and I needed to learn to do so with HIS gun.
The Luger proved to be an accurate firearm for a first time shooter...it did not let me down. My groups were admirable at 20 feet and bought me praise from my instructor. I wonder to this day if my father was helping me place those shots on the paper, as I continue to think it was too easy. And while my father's prized firearm did me proud...that was the first and only time I have shot it. Confession...I didn't like it! The Luger's personality and mine does not mix...it bites!
It was cathartic. It was emotional. It was exciting. It was sad. It was fulfilling and then it was empty. I missed my dad. It should have been him standing behind me praising my every shot. Why is it that so often we find things out after it is too late?
I guess this is where that old cliche' fits in nicely: "better late than never." And I am so glad I arrived at this party late instead of never. For I have learned so much. I have not only learned that the gun is the 'ultimate equalizer' but I have learned that regret can be turned into joy.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
The Sunday Ride
An extraordinary day. A light breeze gently stroking my skin, the temperature around 80, the sky filled with clouds that appeared to have been painted with strokes of white from a feathered brush. They were opaque, allowing the blue of the sky to peak through and the sun to continue to warm my skin and cast shadows on the ground. It was the perfect day to mount the iron horse and cast all the day's cares into the wind.
Being behind my husband of 28 years afforded me the opportunity to take in all that passed me as the wind whiped through my hair. We traveled south of the city, leaving behind the traffic and the noise to enjoy the gently rolling hills that is the south-eastern part of our state. He was looking for that perfect country road that would provide us with the perfect ride.
Possum Hollow Road...a charming name, so we turned to discover what magic this road may have held. We were immediately advised to watch out for cows as they might be crossing the road at anytime. It seemed this road could be interesting.
As we continued our journey, I was mesmerized by the bright orange lily's growing with abandon on both sides of the road. They mixed among the delicate Queen Anne's Lace and brilliant blue of the Cornflower creating a mix of color reminiscent of an artist's palate. And the green, everything was lusciously green.
The road took us through curves that banked to the left and right so sharply, at times I became intimidated by the angle at which I found myself leaning. But I trusted the man I found myself behind. He is a master rider and one with the machine beneath us. I knew I was safe.
We traveled through areas that were so dense with tree cover that we didn't see the sun. There were no shadows that fell from the tall trees above us. We climbed heights that caused us to lean backwards in our seat. But that too changed when suddenly we reached what appeared to be the summit. The sun was bright and clear and there before us was field after field of green. The farmer's had been busy and it seems as if their hard work was paying off.
The homes along the way were as erratic as the road. There were the palatial estates with their winding driveways and golfcourse lawns. And then there were the mobile homes hovering on the edge of a hill, looking as though a strong wind might blow them over the side. So many contridictions.
I wondered who lived in those homes and what they must have thought everytime they wrote their return address on an envelope or said "I live on Possum Hollow Road". It made me want to giggle.
Possum Hollow Road, as all roads, came to an end and so did our adventure. We started our descent back to where we came. Back to life in the city. Back to the reality of noise and traffic. Back to the cares of home.
But the best part of going home...I got to see more of what I had just seen. And even more than that...cause who knew...I missed alot the first time through.
It was an extraordinary day.
The Scary Black Gun
7-14-08 2:05pm Update! Not to be a braggert or to have a swelled head...but I must correct an error in the scores I noted below. If you do the math correctly (I did not do the original math), you get a combined score of 423 out of 500. This changes the percentage from 83.25% to 84.6%. Thank you Mr. Greer for bringing this to my attention...back to school CdmP, the math teacher wants to see you!
Each firearm I have shot is an experience unique unto itself. Like us, each has an individual personality and I have been very lucky to have personally gotten to know many kinds of personalities.
There are those that I have loved, a Ruger 1022 fully automatic with a suppressor...when I pulled the trigger, shot after shot gently leaves the barrel with a small 'piff'. And those I have not enjoyed so much, a Colt 1911, man did it bite!
Yesterday I got to know yet another personality and I am in love! I had the time of my life and I owe to a very good friend I fondly refer to as Captain Du Mon Parfait. He invited myself and another good friend Mr. Brent Greer, who some may know as the author of 'The Ready Line', to the range to take part in an M1 Garand clinic.
Even though it was a Garand clinic I shot an AR 15. I shot one of those scary black assault rifles and I loved it! The best part though...I was reasonably good at it.
We shot four stages at 200 yards:
1. Prone 20 shots slow fire 200 points - scored a 181 (1 10x)
2. Prone from standing 10 shots rapid fire 70 secs. 100 points - scored an 87
3. Sitting from standing 10 shots rapid fire 60 secs. 100 points - scored an 87
4. Standing slow fire 10 shots 100 points - scored a 68 (HARD)
Overall score was a 333 out of 400. Not bad for a girl who has never shot this gun, this course and using borrowed equipment. Just think what I could do with a little practice and my own stuff!
I think I might have a new hobby...high power shooting with a 'scary assault gun'. Better get the bucket and the mop, I think I might cause some tears to fall when I beat some of those seasoned shooters!
Each firearm I have shot is an experience unique unto itself. Like us, each has an individual personality and I have been very lucky to have personally gotten to know many kinds of personalities.
There are those that I have loved, a Ruger 1022 fully automatic with a suppressor...when I pulled the trigger, shot after shot gently leaves the barrel with a small 'piff'. And those I have not enjoyed so much, a Colt 1911, man did it bite!
Yesterday I got to know yet another personality and I am in love! I had the time of my life and I owe to a very good friend I fondly refer to as Captain Du Mon Parfait. He invited myself and another good friend Mr. Brent Greer, who some may know as the author of 'The Ready Line', to the range to take part in an M1 Garand clinic.
Even though it was a Garand clinic I shot an AR 15. I shot one of those scary black assault rifles and I loved it! The best part though...I was reasonably good at it.
We shot four stages at 200 yards:
1. Prone 20 shots slow fire 200 points - scored a 181 (1 10x)
2. Prone from standing 10 shots rapid fire 70 secs. 100 points - scored an 87
3. Sitting from standing 10 shots rapid fire 60 secs. 100 points - scored an 87
4. Standing slow fire 10 shots 100 points - scored a 68 (HARD)
Overall score was a 333 out of 400. Not bad for a girl who has never shot this gun, this course and using borrowed equipment. Just think what I could do with a little practice and my own stuff!
I think I might have a new hobby...high power shooting with a 'scary assault gun'. Better get the bucket and the mop, I think I might cause some tears to fall when I beat some of those seasoned shooters!
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
So Why the Vicodin?
Well...it started with pulling a kayak full of water out of the lake and ended with a cough that caused a pain in my hip that made me want to puke. After two weeks of hell I finally went to the Dr. today and there is no herniated discs, fractures, or other bone involvement.
So what is wrong and why can't I sit, stand, bend, twist or turn to wipe my...well you get the picture. He thinks I have torn a muscle in my lower back somewhere around my sacroiliac on my right side. What now?
I get to go through physical therapy, take lots of medicine: lortab for pain, flexeril for muscle spasms and naporsin for inflammation and see another specialist in two weeks. Of course the physical therapist can't see me for 10 days.
I think the heating pad may be permanently attached to my ass by then. Wonder what specialist they send you to for that?
So what is wrong and why can't I sit, stand, bend, twist or turn to wipe my...well you get the picture. He thinks I have torn a muscle in my lower back somewhere around my sacroiliac on my right side. What now?
I get to go through physical therapy, take lots of medicine: lortab for pain, flexeril for muscle spasms and naporsin for inflammation and see another specialist in two weeks. Of course the physical therapist can't see me for 10 days.
I think the heating pad may be permanently attached to my ass by then. Wonder what specialist they send you to for that?
Scary Whistle #2
I think I have spent too many days on my back (get your mind out of the gutter!) because I just can't take anything I read seriously anymore.
Today on AOL one of the teasers reads, "This Keychain Has Your Back. In Dangerous Situation, It Could Save Your Life: Five Picks for Self-Defense" Having been involved in teaching crime avoidance and personal protection with firearms. I was mighty interested in what this keychain might do for me in a dangerous situation along with the other five picks.
Of course included is my favorite number five...THE SCARY WHISTLE! Be sure to take time to blow it between screaming and crying for help while you are being attacked. OMG!
Speaking of screaming...I hope the neighbors didn't hear me as I was screaming at the computer
"BUT WHERE'S THE GUN YOU IDIOTS, WHERE'S THE GUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Today on AOL one of the teasers reads, "This Keychain Has Your Back. In Dangerous Situation, It Could Save Your Life: Five Picks for Self-Defense" Having been involved in teaching crime avoidance and personal protection with firearms. I was mighty interested in what this keychain might do for me in a dangerous situation along with the other five picks.
Of course included is my favorite number five...THE SCARY WHISTLE! Be sure to take time to blow it between screaming and crying for help while you are being attacked. OMG!
Speaking of screaming...I hope the neighbors didn't hear me as I was screaming at the computer
"BUT WHERE'S THE GUN YOU IDIOTS, WHERE'S THE GUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Lake Character/Pick-up Lines
So...we are at the lake this weekend and my favorite neighbor tells us this story...warning, warning, if you have delicate sensibilities you might want to stop reading now.
In a nut shell (no pun intended), Mr. W. is at a bar trying to pick up the bartender. After watching several other guys strike out, he decides he needs to come up with a pick-up line that is completely original and totally failproof.
So...he looks deeply into her eyes with his beautiful baby blues and says, "Will you give me permission to fantasize about you while I masturbate tonight?" She says, "I have never been asked that question." To which he responds, "What if I say please?"
Well according to Mr. W. it worked. The two have been creating their own reality ever since (I don't think his wife is too thrilled about it, but what happens at the lake, stays at the lake!)
This story is a segue way to this link: Top Ten Rap Song Pick-Up Lines That Would Never Work But who knows...I never would have believed Mr. W's would have worked either!
Check it out...guaranteed to make you laugh out loud.
In a nut shell (no pun intended), Mr. W. is at a bar trying to pick up the bartender. After watching several other guys strike out, he decides he needs to come up with a pick-up line that is completely original and totally failproof.
So...he looks deeply into her eyes with his beautiful baby blues and says, "Will you give me permission to fantasize about you while I masturbate tonight?" She says, "I have never been asked that question." To which he responds, "What if I say please?"
Well according to Mr. W. it worked. The two have been creating their own reality ever since (I don't think his wife is too thrilled about it, but what happens at the lake, stays at the lake!)
This story is a segue way to this link: Top Ten Rap Song Pick-Up Lines That Would Never Work But who knows...I never would have believed Mr. W's would have worked either!
Check it out...guaranteed to make you laugh out loud.
Monday, July 7, 2008
A Vicodin Rant
I am sick of it...damned tired of hearing it...had it up to my eyeballs...I have just read the words 'common' and 'sense' one time too many and I want to throw up! Maybe it is the vicodin, but I don't think so. Vicodin usually makes me feel warm and fuzzy all over.
It is the favorite phrase of the anti gun lobby...'common sense' gun laws. You know the kind of laws that make you and me completely defenseless...that kind of 'common sense'. Well Mrs. Brady and all the rest of you sniveling, whining, wimpy people, take your 'common sense' and those laws you think defend me and shove them up your A**!
In my mind, common sense is prevailing and the ball is rolling in the right direction after the Heller victory. A great example: Texas is looking at legislating concealed carry on campuses. What doesn't make sense about that? No more sitting ducks in the classrooms. Now that's common sense.
The more I understand about common sense...the more I understand. there is nothing common about it!
It is the favorite phrase of the anti gun lobby...'common sense' gun laws. You know the kind of laws that make you and me completely defenseless...that kind of 'common sense'. Well Mrs. Brady and all the rest of you sniveling, whining, wimpy people, take your 'common sense' and those laws you think defend me and shove them up your A**!
In my mind, common sense is prevailing and the ball is rolling in the right direction after the Heller victory. A great example: Texas is looking at legislating concealed carry on campuses. What doesn't make sense about that? No more sitting ducks in the classrooms. Now that's common sense.
The more I understand about common sense...the more I understand. there is nothing common about it!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
The ABC's of Me Meme
I am lying in bed in terrible pain waiting for the vicodin to kick in, cruising some of my favorite blogs, trying to take my mind off of the pain in my hip (that is a story for another day). I borrowed this from Breda who borrowed it from Squeaky...thanks ladies.
Accent: Born and bred in the midwest...what kind of accent is that?
Breakfast or no breakfast: My favorite meal of the day! Could eat it three times a day...nothing beats a omelet with red, yellow and green peppers, onions and any kind of pork with lots of cheese!
Chore I don’t care for: I hate to clean the bathroom and will pass it off to the hubby anytime I can...fortunately he doesn't mind...lucky me.
Dog or Cat: 3 dogs (Great Dane. Yorkie. Mutt)...1 cat (it is his)
Essential Electronics: Blow dryer, flat iron, computer, bedside clock radio...not in that order
Favorite Cologne: I HATE perfumes and colognes! Most people wear too much and what you think smells good others may not!
Gold or Silver: I wear both. I have worn two sterling bracelets for over 30 years and my I wear two gold necklaces all the time. My wedding rings are white gold. As long as it is real, I don't care!
Handbag I carry most often: Right now a Vera Bradley mini hipster...I always carry a very small bag only big enough to carry a driver license and credit card, phone, feminine products and $$$$.
Insomnia: I wake up every couple of hours...I usually hit the clock radio ( see above ) to listen to Art Bell or George Nouri and the Wackos until I go back to sleep only to repeat the process a couple of hours later. I have not set an alarm clock of years. I am always awake by 6am.
Job Title: Intervention Assistant.
Kids: Three adult.
Living Arrangements: Husband and two homes...the lake being the one where I am spending most of my time.
Most Admirable Trait: Who answers these kinds of questions? Aren't we all afraid we will look vain and egotistical if we do?
Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: I was a door slammer...I actually destroyed the entire door frame of my bedroom door over the years from all of the slamming.
Overnight hospital stays: Birthin' babies, and a couple of surgeries
Phobias: Heights and large crowds...there is just not enough air to breathe in either place.
Quote: I have two..."Live Well" "Respect the past...Create the new"
Reason to smile: Living well, respecting the past and creating the new
Siblings: I had two older brothers...one died in 1989 at the age of 29 and the other died in 1997 at the age of 42.
Time you wake up: Every couple of hours all night long. I am always awake before 6 am and never have to set the alarm clock.
Unusual Talent or Skill: I can touch my nose with my tongue.
Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: Tomatoes or are they a fruit? Either way I refuse to eat them. What about fungi? Do those count? Cause I refuse to eat them too!
Worst Habit: When I have a cold I tend to leave dirty tissues all over the house...yea I know, gross.
X-rays: Of course...I go to the dentist every six months...don't you?
Yummy Stuff: I love to cook and I managed to raise a son who became a chef...food is in our blood! But nothing is better than chocolate and I make some kick ass truffles!
Zoo Animal I Like Most: Can't think of one I don't like.
Accent: Born and bred in the midwest...what kind of accent is that?
Breakfast or no breakfast: My favorite meal of the day! Could eat it three times a day...nothing beats a omelet with red, yellow and green peppers, onions and any kind of pork with lots of cheese!
Chore I don’t care for: I hate to clean the bathroom and will pass it off to the hubby anytime I can...fortunately he doesn't mind...lucky me.
Dog or Cat: 3 dogs (Great Dane. Yorkie. Mutt)...1 cat (it is his)
Essential Electronics: Blow dryer, flat iron, computer, bedside clock radio...not in that order
Favorite Cologne: I HATE perfumes and colognes! Most people wear too much and what you think smells good others may not!
Gold or Silver: I wear both. I have worn two sterling bracelets for over 30 years and my I wear two gold necklaces all the time. My wedding rings are white gold. As long as it is real, I don't care!
Handbag I carry most often: Right now a Vera Bradley mini hipster...I always carry a very small bag only big enough to carry a driver license and credit card, phone, feminine products and $$$$.
Insomnia: I wake up every couple of hours...I usually hit the clock radio ( see above ) to listen to Art Bell or George Nouri and the Wackos until I go back to sleep only to repeat the process a couple of hours later. I have not set an alarm clock of years. I am always awake by 6am.
Job Title: Intervention Assistant.
Kids: Three adult.
Living Arrangements: Husband and two homes...the lake being the one where I am spending most of my time.
Most Admirable Trait: Who answers these kinds of questions? Aren't we all afraid we will look vain and egotistical if we do?
Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: I was a door slammer...I actually destroyed the entire door frame of my bedroom door over the years from all of the slamming.
Overnight hospital stays: Birthin' babies, and a couple of surgeries
Phobias: Heights and large crowds...there is just not enough air to breathe in either place.
Quote: I have two..."Live Well" "Respect the past...Create the new"
Reason to smile: Living well, respecting the past and creating the new
Siblings: I had two older brothers...one died in 1989 at the age of 29 and the other died in 1997 at the age of 42.
Time you wake up: Every couple of hours all night long. I am always awake before 6 am and never have to set the alarm clock.
Unusual Talent or Skill: I can touch my nose with my tongue.
Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: Tomatoes or are they a fruit? Either way I refuse to eat them. What about fungi? Do those count? Cause I refuse to eat them too!
Worst Habit: When I have a cold I tend to leave dirty tissues all over the house...yea I know, gross.
X-rays: Of course...I go to the dentist every six months...don't you?
Yummy Stuff: I love to cook and I managed to raise a son who became a chef...food is in our blood! But nothing is better than chocolate and I make some kick ass truffles!
Zoo Animal I Like Most: Can't think of one I don't like.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Happy Birthday to US
While you celebrate with your families. please do not forget that this country was built on the backs of young men and women. Here are a few pictures of the monuments that were built to remind us of that fact.
WWI Monument
WWII Monument
White House Sniper
Gold Star tree planted for mother's
WWII Monument with Washington Monument
WWI Monument
WWII Monument
White House Sniper
Gold Star tree planted for mother's who have lost a child in war
Arlington National Cemetary
Tomb of the Unknown Soldier Arlington National Cemetary
WWII Monument with Washington MonumentThursday, July 3, 2008
The American Hypocrisy Union
The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) considers itself to be “our nation’s guardian of liberty.” In order to ensure that every citizen of this nation enjoys the freedom the Constitution sets forth, the ACLU works tirelessly in the “courts, legislatures and communities to defend and preserve the individual rights and liberties that the Constitution and laws of the United States guarantee.” Unless of course they disagree. Then you are shit out of luck!
The above quotes were taken from the ACLU’s “Guardians of Freedom” pamphlet. So I find myself a little confused when I read on the ACLU’s Blog of Rights website that they have chosen not to support the Supreme Court’s recent affirmation of the 2nd Amendment (D.C vs. Heller). You know, the one that says the citizens of the United States have an individual right to keep and bear arms.
It seems the ACLU disagrees with this decision. The organization thinks the Supreme Court got it wrong. I didn’t know it was the place of the ACLU to determine which amendments were right or wrong. I thought it was the organization’s place to defend the amendments regardless of the political popularity of the amendment and who it affects. In fact, I think they say just that in this paragraph taken from their own literature:
“Historically, the people whose opinions are the most controversial or extreme are the people whose rights are most often threatened. Once the government has the power to violate one person’s rights, it can use that power against everyone. We work to stop the erosion of civil liberties before its’ too late.”
The above quotes were taken from the ACLU’s “Guardians of Freedom” pamphlet. So I find myself a little confused when I read on the ACLU’s Blog of Rights website that they have chosen not to support the Supreme Court’s recent affirmation of the 2nd Amendment (D.C vs. Heller). You know, the one that says the citizens of the United States have an individual right to keep and bear arms.
It seems the ACLU disagrees with this decision. The organization thinks the Supreme Court got it wrong. I didn’t know it was the place of the ACLU to determine which amendments were right or wrong. I thought it was the organization’s place to defend the amendments regardless of the political popularity of the amendment and who it affects. In fact, I think they say just that in this paragraph taken from their own literature:
“Historically, the people whose opinions are the most controversial or extreme are the people whose rights are most often threatened. Once the government has the power to violate one person’s rights, it can use that power against everyone. We work to stop the erosion of civil liberties before its’ too late.”
So does this mean the ACLU will not be taking on any cases involving 2nd Amendment issues? They haven’t prior to the Heller decision, which may be understandable considering the ambiguity surrounding the collective versus individual right argument. But now that that has been decided by the highest court in our country, what is stopping them?
Oh yeah . . . their own biases, prejudices and ignorance.
According ACLU founder Roger Baldwin, “So long as we have enough people in this country willing to fight for their rights, we’ll be called a democracy.” Mr. Baldwin if you really believed this, then you must be rolling over in your grave. Because the very ideal you founded your organization upon is being ignored today, the document you held so dear is being discarded and the preservation of the rights of the individual is being tossed out the window by the very organization you founded to protect those rights.
Mr. Baldwin, what happened to the democracy you believed in?
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