Hook, Line and Sinker

The hubby went fishing a week or so ago. What did he catch you might ask?

Himself!

That is a beautiful fly fishing hook stuck in his forearm. You can't pull them out and because it was buried so deep, there was no way he could tolerate pushing it through. What I would have done for a vial of lidocaine and a small syringe. But alas, off to the hospital we went for the 'emergency' removal of the fancy hook.

As we sat in the Nemo room ( no kidding ) looking at the lovely underwater murals of the clown fish and his friend, the Dr. entered and I again lamented not owning some lidocaine thus saving all of us this trouble.

He reacted rather interestingly considering he didn't know us from Adam. His response was,
"With the way things are going, it won't be long before you do."

I knew then, he was a physician who saw the demise of medicine, his career and the practice of healthcare as we know it. If Obama is successful with his healthcare plan, our individual choices in our medical care will end and so will many, many, many lives.

If you are concerned and feel the need to do something, check out this site: http://www.docs4patientcare.org/7301.html

Obama's administration has currently taken over the automotive industry, the banking industry, the tobacco industry and is now after the healthcare industry. When will it stop?

It won't stop until we get fed up, and quit swallowing the bureaucratic rhetoric and let the powers that be know we have had enough. I know I have...what about you?

Dusk

What does a man think about when a has a view like this?

His Majesty

Henry Winston Woo Woo

He came to us as a 60 pound four month old and we thought he was psycho. We considered returning him to the breeder. But we stuck it out and thankfully we did. For now he is the love of my life. At about 42 inches at the shoulder and around 160 pounds, he is the biggest baby I have.

He sits in my lap and talks to me constantly. He is the epitome of a gentle giant. And no I don't ride him!

Tell me about your baby.....

Snapshot #2

It is a place that is meant for the public, yet I felt I was intruding on your private moment. Your grief was palatable, consuming. It surrounded you as smog does the mountains or the tall buildings of a city over run with pollution....stagnant, and putrid. It was painful to watch yet I could not take my eyes from you.

I did not need the caretaker to tell me you were grieving. Your face said it all. But he shared your story with me. You, who lost your brother in the murderous attack on our country and specifically our Nation's Capitol, were instrumental in getting this very site constructed...the Pentagon Memorial.

It was Memorial Day and I had come to pay my respects to those who lost their lives in that attack. I had come to see the only national memorial in existence that honors that day and those who lost their lives. I got more than I bargained for.

I got a glimpse into your life...the life of a man who lives the personal horror of that day everyday. The horror of having your brother murdered by terrorists on a day he and many others were just doing their jobs.

I am haunted by your grief and I promise you, I will never forget!

Snapshots 1

I walked among them this past weekend. They were tall, short, thin, fat, young, old, clean cut, scruffy. I considered myself lucky and felt very honored to be there.

Some wore hats to identify where they had been. Others had medals pinned to their chests. But they were all there for the same reason: to honor those who did not come home with them.

I stopped a few and asked if I could take their picture. I was never turned down. I had conversations with complete strangers. But felt like I had known them a lifetime. I walked away awestruck and humbled.

These men, they came from all walks of life to serve a country they love. I swelled with pride, as I too love this country and am forever grateful for what they have given me: FREEDOM

Retired USMC

Over 37 years of service

Two tours of Vietnam

Both Gulf Wars

Bosnia

Beirut when the barracks were bombed

Still teaching our soldiers today

AMERICAN HERO

Land of the Free

Home of the Brave

I was there this past weekend...I can't write about it yet

Words of Wisdom

He was just a teenage boy. Like many, he blended in with the rest. I think I remember taking his temperature in the health office on a day he wasn't feeling well. But nothing much more about him stands out in my mind. He was just another student among the 300 others. Then he became a man and my memory changes.

He returned to my building one day in a uniform...handsome beyond words. I had heard that he had enlisted and was serving in the Middle East. I had also heard he was a Special Forces sniper.

He came that day to see his middle school teachers, to thank them for the education they had given him and to tell them it had paid off. He made a special effort to thank his math teacher, a wonderful woman, for he finally understands why he needed to know algebra. I guess it made him a better shot!

No, this is not a story about a soldier who has lost his life. This is a story about a soldier who wants to save yours and thinks we as a nation may have made a irreparable mistake.

He now makes his living working for an 'unknown' entity as some kind of operative. His own mother has no knowledge of her son's occupation other than he rarely talks about his work. On the one occasion he did, this is what he had to say (I paraphrase):

"In my job I am forced to break bread with some really awful, horrible people. The one thing I want people to know is this: these people are glad Obama is our president. They are ecstatic. They are not afraid of Obama. They were afraid of George Bush. And that puts every one of us in danger."

I fear, my friends, we are in trouble.