Tuesday, September 30, 2008
~ J. Hudson Taylor
He hath filled the hungry with good things; and the rich he hath sent empty away.
~ Luke 1:53, The King James Version
Monday, September 29, 2008
I looked around in this area, and it was terribly busy with so many angels sorting out petitions written on voluminous paper sheets and scraps from people all over the world.
Then we moved on down a long corridor until we reached the second section.
The angel then said to me, 'This is the Packaging and Delivery Section. Here, the graces and blessings the people asked for are processed and delivered to the living persons who asked for them. 'I noticed again how busy it was there. There were many angels working hard at that station, since so many blessings had been requested and were being packaged for delivery to Earth.
Finally at the farthest end of the long corridor we stopped at the door of a very small station. To my great surprise, only one angel was seated there, idly doing nothing. 'This is the Acknowledgment Section,' my angel friend quietly admitted to me. He seemed embarrassed 'How is it that there is no work going on here?' I asked.
'So sad,' the angel sighed. 'After people receive the blessings that they asked for, very few send back acknowledgments.'
'How does one acknowledge God's blessings?' I asked.
'Simple,' the angel answered. Just say, 'Thank you, Lord.'
'What blessings should they acknowledge?' I asked.
'If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep you are richer than 75% of this world. If you have money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish, you are among the top 8% of the worlds wealthy.'
'And if you get this on your own computer, you are part of the 1% in the world who has that opportunity.'
'If you woke up this morning with more health than illness .... you are more blessed than the many who will not even survive this day.'
'If you have never experienced the fear in battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation ... you are ahead of 700 million people in the world.'
'If you can attend a church without the fear of harassment, arrest, torture or death you are envied by, and more blessed than, three billion people in the world.'
'If your parents are still alive and still married ...you are very rare.'
If you can hold your head up and smile, you are not the norm, you're unique to all those in doubt and despair.'
Ok, what now? How can I start?
If you can read this message, you just received a double blessing in that someone was thinking of you as very special and you are more blessed than over two billion people in the world who cannot read at all.
Have a good day, count your blessings, and if you care to, pass this along to remind everyone else how blessed we all are.
ATTN: Acknowledge Dept.
'Thank you Lord, for giving me the ability
to share this message and for giving me so many wonderful people with whom to share it..'
Nevertheless, we had a good time and got home in time to catch a little of the debate. I caught a "little" because I chose to not watch it, but to wash my face and ready myself for bed. I don't think I missed much. If facial cleansing is more attractive than watching the debate, it speaks for itself.
LG worked Saturday - all double-time! WOO HOO! Fannie left around 11:00 so I could get to my solitude and domesticity. I cleaned out the hall closet and got the house picked up, just in time for my grandson to call. I had a spontaneous moment and invited him over to watch the Auburn game on the big television. He's totally enthralled with Auburn and football in general, much to his father's delight! My stepson called in the meantime and said he was in the area. Naturally, I told him his dad was working, but for the first time in seven years of marriage to his father, he came by to see me and me alone. I had the best time visiting with him; short but schweet. My step-son is really a great guy, so even and laid back. I don't believe I've met as laid back a person as him. His dad runs a close second, but where his dad can be moody, his son is completely even-keeled. There are no surprise moods with him, he's always what you expect and he's great to be around. There's no pretense, just down to earth conversation, laughter, and no put-ons.
So, Bailey comes to watch football and LG ends up working late, so I drive and Bay and his parents go to Mass with me. The other two little ones are off on their own play dates. We returned home to watch Alabama walk all over Georgia, although they sure had me nervous in the second half! Not the same team at all! I loved it because the Georgia Bulldogs did a "black out" and it looked like a funeral, and it was, it was THEIRS! LOL!
Soon as we jumped outa bed on Sunday, LG asked if I wanted to go to Starbuck's for something different. Does a bear poop in the woods? So we did, filled up my car, bought the groceries for the family dinner yesterday and returned home where we each took care of domestic chores. I watched the race, with little enthusiasm. I cannot figure out what has happened to Dale Jr.'s team. Did Jimmy and Jeff throw a tantrum because Rick was putting a lot into Jr.'s team? Suddenly, they are doing great, and Jr. is, well, mediocre. This just really sucks. I'm telling you, there's going to be a change. You watch. I predict that Tony Eury Jr. will be out as Jr.'s crew chief next year, moving to the #5 car, and Jr.'s going to have a new one. Whatever it takes, folks.
My cheese potatoes turned out awful,and that's unusual, I forgot to put the fried onions in the green bean casserole, and I had so many potatoes made that my kids graciously took a little home, but I had a huge pan left. Being honest that they weren't up to par, LG took out a few for us and we threw out the rest.
It is so great on Sunday nights. The house is all spick and span, the yard is manicured, the cars are washed, we've had our baths and we just chill together on the sofa, LG working his puzzles while he watches television with me, and me flipping through the latest "People" or some other publication, until the time comes that I must toddle to bed. I'd had my medicine for the evening, and I was tired but not sleepy. What lay ahead was a night of restlessness and minimal sleep. That's twice in one week that this has happened. What to do.
Now see, my life is really nothing spectacular, I would think, in the eyes of most people, but it's a normal, happy and blessed existence. I have my children and grandchildren near, my stepson and his girlfriend are near, of course, the love of my life is with me, and we have a nice life. I try to spend my hour in God's house having some one-on-one each week to refuel the spiritual tanks, and I pray regularly. I don't feel I am unique. I have things I want to do and plans I've made that must be put into action. We're just average Americans, I guess. But to me, it's exactly where I've always wanted to be and I wouldn't change a thing!
P.S. Keep moving down the page and watch "King Burger". My granddaughter sent it to me and it's hilarious!!
That the people who send me 15 emails a day with meanderings about politics, political humor, internet scares, and LONG stories with a moral, etc., should be more discerning about what they forward. Most of this stuff is crap and I've gotten to a point where I delete without even opening it. Your reputation now precedes you. I clean out my mailbox every single day, and when I log in the next day, I am back up to between 35 and 60 new messages. I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS! I could only hope that 15-20 people would visit my blog and leave comments every day, but then I don't have the time to devote to a really entertaining blog like some people.
That the little red pickup that travels between 28 and 30 mph down the main two-lane road leading to my little town, please, either speed up or pull over and let traffic pass you by. If you have a mirror, and you do, and if you would use it, and you do, and you see that there is a growing line of cars impatiently streaming behind your little red pickup, and you do, is there even a glimmer of light in your brain that says, "you're holding up progress? You need to speed up or move over"? Probably not .... Grrrrr........
I wish that people at the office would stop having these little covered dish lunches. I've seen too many women leave the restroom without washing their hands, so what makes you think I'm gonna eat your food? Who knows, they may have dropped some on the floor, picked it up and threw it back in the pan. Or maybe they went to pee and even dookie and didn't wash their hands, but went straight to their kitchen and began preparing their dish for the luncheon? I participated in one of these events one year at Thanksgiving and one lady heated her beautiful crowder peas in the microwave, stuck a plastic spoon in them to stir them, took a bite to see if they were hot, and then stirred them again WITH THE SAME SPOON! DUH HUH!
That the neighbors across the street, having already been caught and warned about their little poop-eaters taking their craps in my yard, please, please keep them in your own yard? I don't want your poop; you don't want it either which is why you let them go in other people's yards. Maybe you should rid yourself of the little poop-eaters since they're such an inconvenience to you and your neighbors. Poop again in my yard and I'm gonna scoop it with a shovel and put it on the hood of your car, I swear I will.
That the black man in the nice suit and tie sitting in the fancy car with tinted windows in the right lane of traffic in front of the Wal-Mart just please drive around until yo mama returns from her shopping? Turning around in your seat and feigning attention to the youngster in the back does not excuse the laziness of yo mama for not wanting to walk a few extra feet!
And lastly, to those who park in handicapped slots at the stores and who are not handicapped, and those who use a handicap card that belongs to yo mama, but yo mama is not with you, please park in a regular parking spot and save those handicapped places for the people who need them. The sign reads "Handicap Parking" and that means, PHYSICALLY handicapped, NOT MENTALLY! And Lord knows we all can use the exercise of walking an extra 10 feet! Geesh!
Friday, September 26, 2008
New Dylan Album to Stream on NPR for 1 Week
Published: 9/26/08, 3:21 PM EDT NEW YORK (AP) - Bob Dylan's new album shall be released one week early as a free online stream on National Public Radio's Web site.
NPR Music will stream the entire two-CD, "Tell Tale Signs," beginning at 12:01 a.m. EDT Tuesday. It will be available for listening at least until Oct. 7, when the album is officially released by Columbia Records.
"Tell Tale Signs" is the eighth volume of Dylan's ongoing rarities compilations, titled the "Bootleg Series." This edition includes out-takes and rare cuts from the last two decades. An alternate version of "Mississippi" - a song from 2001's "Love and Theft" - was earlier made available as a free download at Amazon.com.
The early album stream is a first for NPR Music, which often provides live concerts for free as podcasts.
A lot of fun.
A tough guy. A guy you really don't want to mess with.
To Steal. Example: Who bagged my towel? ; also see Score. Also; "What's your bag" meaning what's your problem or where are you coming from.
To party, as in Little Richards "Good Golly Miss Molly, Sho Like To Ball". Later, it meant having intercourse.
Nice, "Cool" or Neat. Used commonly among hippies in the 60's.
Elated, Excited; "This is going to be a great reunion. I'm really jazzed about going."
Deep, Cool, Chaotic, Sad, Controversial
With it. A person who understands the situation.
To obtain something valuable or necessary; (Let's go score some pizza or score some dope.) Also to go all the way with a girl.
Something that is ok or all right.
See more here.
Now, get your mind out of the gutter and go get your flu shot!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Did you know that 47 countries' have reestablished their embassies in Iraq ?
Did you know that the Iraqi government currently employs 1.2 million Iraqi people?
Did you know that 3100 schools have been renovated, 364 schools are under rehabilitation, 263 new schools are now under construction; and 38 new schools have been completed in Iraq ?
Did you know that Iraq 's higher educational structure consists of 20 Universities, 46 Institutes or colleges and 4 research centers, all currently operating?
Did you know that 25 Iraq students departed for the United States in January 2005 for the re-established Fulbright program?
Did you know that the Iraqi Navy is operational? They have 5 - 100-foot patrol craft, 34 smaller vessels and a naval infantry regiment.
Did you know that Iraq ' s Air Force consists of three operational squadrons, which includes 9 reconnaissance and 3 US C-130 transport aircraft (under Iraqi operational control) which operate day and night, and will soon add 16 UH-1 helicopters and 4 Bell Jet Rangers?
Did you know that Iraq has a counter-terrorist unit and a Commando Battalion?
Did you know that the Iraqi Police Service has over 55,000 fully trained and equipped police officers?
Did you know that there are 5 Police Academies in Iraq that produce over 3500 new officers every 8 weeks?
Did you know there are more than 1100 building projects going on in Iraq ? They include 364 schools, 67 public clinics, 15 hospitals, 83 railroad stations, 22 oil facilities, 93 water facilities and 69 electrical facilities.
Did you know that 96% of Iraqi children under the age of 5 have received the first 2 series of polio vaccinations?
Did you know that 4.3 million Iraqi children were enrolled in primary school by mid October?
Did you know that there are 1,192,000 cell phone subscribers in Iraq and phone use has gone up 158%?
Did you know that Iraq has an independent media that consists of 75 radio stations, 180 newspapers and 10 television stations?
Did you know that the Baghdad Stock Exchange opened in June of 2004?
Did you know that 2 candidates in the Iraqi presidential election had a Televised debate recently?
OF COURSE WE DIDN'T KNOW! WHY DIDN'T WE KNOW? BECAUSE OUR MEDIA WON'T TELL US!
Instead of reflecting our love for our country, we get photos of flag burning incidents at Abu Ghraib and people throwing snowballs at the presidential motorcades. Tragically, the lack of accentuating the positive in Iraq serves two purposes:
It is intended to undermine the world's perception of the United States thus minimizing consequent support; and it is intended to discourage American citizens.
Above facts are verifiable on the Department of Defense web site.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
1. Do you like blue cheese? Naw!
2. Have you ever smoked heroin? No and you can't make me, ever, ever, ever.
3. Do you own a gun? Hubs does, but I don't personally
4. What flavor do you add to your drink? Lime, of course
5. Do you get nervous before doctor Appointments? Anxious, but not nervous.
6. What do you think of hot dogs? A nice wiener does a girl good!
7. Favorite Christmas movie? A Christmas Carol
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Coffee, strong
9. Can you do push ups? It's doubtful; my boobs are too heavy
10. Age? Yes, doesn't everybody?
11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? My wedding ring
12. Favorite hobby? Hubs
13. Favorite Actor? Jack Nicholson
14. Do you have A.D.D.? I don't know . . . something to ponder
15. What's one trait you hate about yourself? speaking before thinking
16. Middle name? STARR
17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment? This blouse is definitely cut too low. Does Sid really have a deadline? I need to pee.
18. Name 3 things you love to eat? You're kidding, right? Oh okay, HOT DOGS (snicker), hm, hamburgers, anything Mexican
19. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink? Iced Tea, Beer, Margaritas
21. Current dislike right now? Injustice
22. Favorite place to be? Home
23. How did you bring in the New Year? At a big party that turned out to be .... a big DUD!
24. Where would you like to go? Heaven
25. Name three people who will complete this? I don't think anybody will complete this; I'm the only moron on this planet
26. Do you own slippers? Nope, barefoot, that's MY thing
27. What shirt are you wearing? black and white with ruffles
28. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? Naw, they're not what they're cracked up to be. Too hot.
29. Can you whistle? Barely since I had my teeth fixed!
30. Favorite color? blue (as in blue cheese, but I hate blue cheese!)
31. Would you be a pirate? Arrrrgh?
32. What do you like to sing in the shower? I don't think about singing when I'm in the shower .... isn't that odd?
33. Favorite girl's name? Abbey (snicker)
34. Favorite boy's name? John
35. What is in your pocket right now? Nada! (Confuscious say, "Man who keep hands in pockets not always play with change!)
36. Last thing that made you laugh? The joke I sent to everyone called "and that's how the fight started"
37. Best bed sheets as a child? Clean ones
38. Worst injury you've ever had? Not an injury but got staph from a back surgery and that was excrutiatingly painful
39. Do you love where you live? Good gracious, YES!
40. How many TVs do you have in your house? FORE!
41. Who is your loudest friend? ??? Nobody is louder than me, that's the problemo!
42. How many dogs do you have? None
43. Does someone have a crush on you? I sure hope so!
44. What is your favorite book(S)? To Kill A Mockingbird
45. Where were you born? Decatur
46. What is your favorite candy? M&Ms with peanuts
47. Favorite Sports Team? The No. 88 Team of Dale Earnhardt Jr.!!
48. What song do you want played at your funeral? "In My Life" by John Lennon
49. What were you doing at 12 A.M.? crashed, burned and out
50. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up? Am I or am I not agitated?
After a while, the priest turned to the rabbi and asked, 'Is it still a requirement of your faith that you not eat pork?'
The rabbi responded, 'Yes, that is still one of our laws.'
The priest then asked, 'Have you ever eaten pork?'
To which the rabbi replied, 'Yes, on one occasion I did succumb to temptation and tasted a ham sandwich.'
The priest nodded in understanding and went on with his reading.
A while later, the rabbi spoke up and asked the priest, 'Father, is it still a requirement of your church that you remain celibate?'
The priest replied, 'Yes, that is still very much a part of our faith.'
The rabbi then asked him, 'Father, have you ever fallen to the temptations of the flesh?'
The priest replied, 'Yes, rabbi, on one occasion I was weak and broke with my faith.'
The rabbi nodded understandingly and remained silent, thinking, for about five minutes.
Finally, the rabbi said, 'Beats the shit out of a ham sandwich, doesn't it?
Monday, September 22, 2008
Everyone started screaming and running for the front entrance, trampling each other in a frantic effort to get away from evil incarnate. Soon the church was empty except for one elderly gentleman who sat calmly in his pew without moving, seemingly oblivious to the fact that God's ultimate enemy was in his presence .
So Satan walked up to the man and said, "Do you know who I am?"
The man replied, "Yep, sure do."
"Aren't you afraid of me?" Satan asked.
"Nope, sure ain't." said the man.
"Don't you realize I can kill you with one word?" asked Satan.
"Don't doubt it for a minute," returned the old man, in an even tone.
"Did you know that I can cause you profound, horrifying AGONY for all eternity?" persisted Satan.
"Yep," was the calm reply?
"And you are still not afraid?" asked Satan.
"Nope," said the old man.
More than a little perturbed, Satan asked, "Why aren't you afraid of me?"
The man calmly replied, "Been married to your sister for 48 years."
[A desperate and lonely woman who had been ill for years came toJesus for healing.] For she said within herself, If I may but touchhis garment, I shall be whole.
~ Matthew 9:21
The woman who said this to herself knew ostracism and loneliness because of her 12 year bout with an illness that made her unclean under Jewish law. She was imprisoned in isolation because of this condition. Just as Jesus freed her from her prison (vs. 22), he longs to free you from yours as well.
What holds you captive? Jesus longs to give you freedom through five gifts: 1) the Scripture to help you know God's will, 2) your surrender to his lordship, 3) cleansing from your sin and guilt, 4) the gift of the Holy Spirit to empower you, and 5) a family of brothers and sisters in Christ to support you and hold you accountable. These are God's five precious keys to freedom.
Father, I pray today for all those who need deliverance from Satan's grip in whatever form he has in their lives. In Jesus' mighty and holy name I confidently pray. Amen
When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better.
Concentrate on this sentence.....
'The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.'
Something good will happen to you today.
~ John Boucher
A man hath joy by the answer of his mouth: and a word spoken in due season, how good is it!
~ Proverbs 15:23, The King James Version
A 19th-century preacher was once asked to explain the doctrine of election. He said: "Well, brethren, it is this way: The Lord is always voting for a man, and the devil is always voting against him; then the man himself votes, and that breaks the tie.
~ Arthur Tonne
Friday, September 19, 2008
Hence, my viewership has declined, and may never be rejuvenated, but I will continue to post when I can and hope that those who do come regularly will continue to stop by and see if I have had a mind-blowing experience, or found something newsworthy, or want to write some odd dissertation of my latest musical interest.
My life is not that exciting, not as exciting as it is in my mind. Gosh, I love my rose-colored glasses and my diverse imagination! It would be an impossible task to count the daydreams that run through my brain in any given day .... there has to be thousands. Pipe-dreams, to-do lists, relationships, work, money, family, spirituality, it runs the gamut.
The latest thorn in my side is that nobody seems capable of making a decision. Hubs and I think we'll go out to eat. "Where do you want to go," I ask. "Wherever you want to go," he answers. I surf the Guide on the satellite dish and "what do you want to watch,", I ask. "You can watch whatever you want," he says. What woman doesn't know that her man doesn't want to watch a cooking show, a soap opera, the Lifetime Move Channel, or QVC? Okay, well, there's reruns on the networks, so I surf the upper channels. Larry King has nothing but politics. Nancy Grace, for all her well intended purposes, has had nothing for weeks but the forlorn and tragic story of Caylee Anthony. One can only watch so much of this daily diatribe. We all know she killed her, she knows she killed her, and it will all come out in the wash. I don't need to see it every night.
We flow through the ESPN and sports channels with little fanfare. I continue passing quickly through home, food and gardening channels. Eventually, we find that we are both amenable to some "tough reality" .... i.e., First 48, tru channel, Dog the Bounty Hunter (Hubs loves to get his tit fix with ole Beth), 48 Hours Mystery, Dr. G Medical Examiner, and let's not forget American Chopper, Black Gold, Ice Road Truckers and Axmen. Yes, I acquiesce to my husband in my effort to be a good wifey and give him what he loves. Never mind that we have four televisions in our home, but only one of them is a 42-inch HDTV flat screen. Oh, he feigns sacrifice when he offers, "I'll go downstairs," or "I'll go to the bedroom", because he knows damn well that I'm not going to let him do that. No, if anyone leaves, it will be me and I never complain about it.
Actually, sometimes I'd rather climb into the bed, turn off all the lights, turn on the telly and if I fall asleep, all the better. So, I guess everyone is happy except for the reason I started this whole rant initially, which was, nobody can make a decision. We go to the lake and the questions go around and around, and there's only three of us there. Out of three people, who do you think ends up making the decisions? Why, it moi, of course. Then I hear the "we want 'you' to be happy." Excuse me while I regurgitate that for the 1,001st time! This really is a thorn in my side. I do not want to make the choices all of the time. I want somebody else to do it. And it was the situation after situation of nobody stepping up to the plate that forced me to do it. Now, it's as though I'm labeled "Decision-maker" by default! It was a trick, I tell you. I never wanted it, and I don't want it now. How do I rid myself of it, pray tell?
Why, when you are in a small group and you throw out a general, "what would y'all like to do" does everyone around the circle, one by one, say, "it doesn't matter to me." How many times to you say, "well, okay why don't we [do this or that]", only to have someone pipe in their disenchantment with the choice, and you are back at square one, and again, that same person won't make a choice, but says, "well, I was just saying, it really doesn't matter to me ....." Grrrr.........
Anyone who knows me that is reading this, hear me now, I don't want to be the decision-maker, I don't want to run the show, I want someone else to decide what to do and just tell me what my role is and I'll run with it. I know I can do this and do a good job of it, if you'd just give me the chance, please?
I hope this was worth it. It was almost but not quite as cathartic as my therapist, but that's not for another week or two. Plus, I have "Can't Remember Shit" in the the most awful way and I will forget what is bothering me if I don't write it down, and I don't have a piece of paper nor a pen, plus I would lose that piece of paper or forget about it until I change purses and find it all tattered, dirty and creased in a week or two anyway.
Could you all just keep your shit together and that will help me a lot, trust me. Just do your little part and I'll do mine and everything will run smooth as glass. You'll see!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
2 .. I don't suffer from insanity; I enjoy every minute of it.
3.. Some people are alive only because it's illegal to kill them.
4.. I used to have a handle on life, but it broke .
5.. Don't take life too seriously; No one gets out alive.
6. You're just jealous because the voices only talk to me
7. Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder .
8.. Earth is the insane asylum for the universe .
9.. I'm not a complete idiot -- Some parts are just missing.
10... Out of my mind. Back in five minutes .
11.. NyQuil, the stuffy, sneezy, why-the-heck-is-the-room-spinning medicine.
12.. God must love stupid people; He made so many.
13.. The gene pool could use a little chlorine.
14.. Consciousness: That annoying time between naps.
15.. Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?
16.. Being 'over the hill' is much better than being under it!
17.. Wrinkled Was Not One of the Things I Wanted to Be When I Grew up .
18 Procrastinate Now!
19.. I Have a Degree in Liberal Arts; Do You Want Fries With That?
20.. A hangover is the wrath of grapes.
21.. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a cash advance.
22.. Stupidity is not a handicap. Park elsewhere!
23.. They call it PMS because Mad Cow Disease was already taken .
24 .. He who dies with the most toys is nonetheless DEAD.
25.. A picture is worth a thousand words, but it uses up three thousand times the memory.
26 .. Ham and eggs...A day's work for a chicken, a lifetime commitment for a pig.
27.. The trouble with life is there's no background music .
28.. The original point and click interface was a Smith & Wesson.
29.. I smile because I don't know what the heck is going on.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
There was quite a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a ray of recognition.
'I'll bet that's why no one was in church today too.'
Monday, September 15, 2008
I reported to you some time ago, earlier this year, that my cousin, Audie, was found to have a tumor on his brain. The tumor was removed and the doctors felt they had gotten all of it. The pathology came back positive for cancer, so Audie began radiation treatment and chemotheraphy. After the first regimen was complete, he was put on several medications, including a pill form of chemotherapy, which he took five days out of 30. Another medication caused some frightening adverse reactions in Audie and he was immediately taken off of this medication. However, it took quite some time and doing for his mind to recover from this episode. He had an MRI in May and it came back clear, and we all were thankful for prayers answered!
Audie stayed in the bed for weeks, refusing phone calls and visitors. Not just family and friends, but even his parents. He would get up to eat, use the restroom, etc., but return to bed. He didn't read and he didn't watch television. I can only suppose that he and the Lord had a lot to talk about. Audie finally came out of his shell enough to have a friend over to visit here and there, and eventually (about three weeks ago), he started going back to the office two or three times per week, for 2-3 hours per day, attending meetings and such and just trying to have as normal a routine as possible. That effort was two-fold, as he was trying to keep busy as well.
Audie had an MRI last week and it reflected some dark places that could be masses on the brain, or it could be the result of swelling of the brain from the chemotherapy and other drugs. Audie underwent a biopsy of the brain on Thursday last using only local anesthesia. He is home and doing somewhat okay, but experiencing some discomfort from the "halo" that they attach to your head to keep it steady when they work on the brain. The pathology has not come in, but it will in the next day or two.
I have a very small request. Please pray for us all. And please just recite this simple prayer:
Dear God, I pray for the cure of cancer. Amen.
~ Rich Bimler
Only let us live up to what we have already attained.
~ Philippians 3:16, The New International Version
If God let you hit a home run the last time up, then who struck you out the time before that?
~ Tigers Manager Sparky Anderson
'Whatever you give a woman, she's going to multiply.
If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby.
If you give her a house, she'll give you a home.
If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal.
If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart.
She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her.'
So - if you give her crap,
you will receive more shit than any one human being can handle
Love and appreciate all the women in your life.
Friday, September 12, 2008
I recall the summer that my birth mother, her husband, my half brother and sister, and my Buddy all drove from Alabama to Texas to see us. We have it on video, the car coming up the street and parking cubside, then my brother slinging open the back door, jumping out and running right to me for a big hug. I can feel his excitement at being in Memphis, his beautiful and bright face all lit up with joy. Watching this brings me to tears. Sissy and I spent a week or two in Memphis with all of them during their visit. We went swimming and to the ice cream parlor, downtown to the General Store and to walk around the square.
It was during that visit that I had what I recall as being my first experience at brainwashing, I being the victim of the act. There were many moments where my birth mother was alone with me and/or my sister, at least when there were no other adults around. My memory is vividly clear, the picture of her crying and telling me that I was stolen from her, how she was tricked into signing blank papers, and that it was during a time when she was in her bed deathly ill. She recited her memories of times that she had seen us bruised on our legs from the "beatings" that my Daddy inflicted with his belt. She convinced me through her miticulous stories that I was an abused child and that she was a victim. It was not long before I had a hatred in my heart for my mother and daddy that I am ashamed of to this day. But what was I? I was an 11 or 12 year old girl who was easily impressed, and much advantage was taken of my young years.
Harm was not only done to my relationship with my mother and daddy, but moreover, mental harm was cast upon me and it has remained there all of my life. I had been led into a way of thinking that included a time when I could run away and run back to her, my birth mother, and that time would be the day that I turned 18 years old. That was it, the repetition of this scenario that was burned it into my brain and heart. And it was done through promises, lies, and through enticement of a more liberal environment where I would not be admonished so sternly, but could be free to do as I pleased with little or no interference. She would be the perfect and permissive parent, because she loved me so much. And in those days and at my age, that was a dream every teenage child has.
By the time she left to go home, I was in a state of depression, anger and broken hearted. I found places to hide and cry alone, and I did it often for several weeks hence. My emotions were overwhelming me. Her words passed through my brain a thousand times and with them, the longing and the anger and the depression grew. It was reflected in my behavior toward my mother and daddy. I was hateful, distant and made sure they knew how much I detested them at the time. The end result of that was that I would mouth off or rebel in some way, as would my sister, and we would end up on the receiving end of daddy's belt or be grounded for a week or two at a time. Years later, when I was in my early 20's, my mother and I had a heartfelt conversation about all of this. I was floored by her words, her explanation of the "facts", those being that she and daddy knew all along that the brainwashing was happening, but they chose to endure our rebellion and punish us for our misbehavior, and to not say a word against our birth mother. In the long run, it was exactly what they should have done. It was right and proven correct over the years.
But at the time, I cried for my real mother, and my real father would turn up now and again with a phone call, which I later learned that daddy had eavesdropped on the extension. My birth father used the same brainwashing tactics as my birth mother, and it's probably not far from the truth that they plotted and worked in unison with one another, as I learned much later that they never quite ended their communication with one another.
In the midst of all this, my brother was visiting and I was so happy. We played games and swam and even had little tiffs like children do. But we laughed a lot, too. He was different, different from the kids I hung out with or that were around my school. He lived on a farm and he dressed in blue jeans that were rolled up, wore Bowzer tennis shoes and sleeveless shirts, and had a buzz haircut.
Buddy decided to stay on for a couple of weeks after his mother and stepfather went home. I was so glad that he stayed and so excited. We went back to Amarillo to spend those couple of weeks. Mother and daddy bought us the latest thing for teens and that was the skateboard, one for each of us. When you think of skateboard, imagine a hard, wooden board with the old, metal wheels, just like the ones on the old roller skates. In our home movies, we are skateboarding up and down the sidewalk and the double driveway in front of our home in Amarillo. We take turns doing different things and Daddy captures it all on his 8mm movie camera. I sit on the skateboard and paddle it faster and faster with my hands, leaning to turn from sidewalk into the drive. Buddy lies on his stomach and paddles himself along with his hands and slides off into the grass. As he rolls off into the grass, he is laughing with enjoyment, but the film is silent and I can only try to recall the sound of his laughter at that moment.
Somehow, I feel that Buddy and I were closer than he and my sister. This may not necessarily be true, but I just cannot recall. I do well enough to remember my own past. We used to tell ghost stories, and he'd tell me dirty jokes, and he had a tendency to use curse words, where those words were never used in our home. When it was time to return to Alabama, he was put on a bus with some sandwiches that mother made for him in case he got hungry, and then he was gone and I didn't know when I would see him again.
One particular time that we visited Alabama and I got to see my brother was on a rare summer vacation to Alabama. We didn't visit my birth mother's home out in the country very often and I never understood why. It even became an issue of argument that mother and daddy would not let us spend the night alone with her. No, we had to stay with them, wherever they stayed, which was at my uncle's or someplace else. Again, this brought out only more anger on my part, the unfairness of it and my misunderstanding in the end. In any case, I have this horrible memory of my birth mother's husband beating my brother. Buddy had done or not done something that got him in hot water, and I can see him in his cut-off bluejean shorts, wearing no shirt, and this man was swinging a belt back and forth toward Buddy with all his might, hitting him across his arms, back, legs, anywhere he could hit him. I will never forget standing there in horror and helplessness as I watched my brother crawl under an end table and cowar like a scared animal. This broke my heart and is something that I have never gotten past, nor do I want to. My heart has a scar on it from that incident that I don't ever want to forget. This man was the meanest bastard I have ever met and I hated him with a passion.
So it comes down to the facts. The fact that my birth mother married a mean son-of-a-bitch, and that he hated my sister and I, so she and my birth father got rid of us, but they would not let my brother come with us. They broke up the family, and they broke apart the siblings. I was robbed of a relationship growing up with my brother. But more than that, my brother was robbed of a better life, a decent upbringing in a loving home with morals and values. And he was robbed of the blessing to live a long and fruitful life on this earth.
But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them, They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.
~ Matthew 9:12
Why did Jesus associate with sinners? Because we need him to associate with us! What's the most crucial part of that truth: Jesus' desire to save or our recognition of our sinfulness? Ofc ourse the most crucial part is Jesus' desire to save because without him, recognizing our sinfulness would only lead to despair. But without recognizing our need for his grace, his sacrifice forus is lost. So let's praise Jesus as our loving and sacrificial Savior, but let's also acknowledge our need for his merciful and mighty grace!
Gracious Father, I praise you from the bottom of my heart for providing Jesus as my Savior. At the same time, dear Father, I confess to you I struggle with sin. I want it completely out of my life, but I find that I cannot rid myself of its constant shadow and its penetrating stain. Without your grace and the sacrifice of Jesus, I know I could not stand before you as your pure child. Please forgive me for the following sins ... and please receive my praise for your gracious forgiveness. In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.
As free, and not using your liberty for a cloak of maliciousness, but as the servants of God.
~ 1 Peter 2:16, King James Version
The time to be happy is now;
The way to be happy is to make others so.
~ John Walker
The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.
~ Psalm 51:17, The Revised Standard Version
It's true hard work never killed anybody, but I figure why take the chance?
~ Ronald Reagan
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
He says 'Yes - just caffeine.''
'Have you ever been in the service?'
'Yes,' he says. 'I was in Iraq for two years.'
The interviewer says, 'That will give you 5 extra points toward employment,' and then asks, 'Are you disabled in any way?'
The guy says, 'Yes 100% . . .an IED exploded near me and blew my testicles off.'
The interviewer tells the guy, 'O.K. In that case, I can hire you right now. Normal hours are from 8 AM to 4 PM. You can start tomorrow at 10:00 AM -and plan on starting at 10 AM every day.'
The guy is puzzled and says, 'If the hours are from 8 AM to 4 PM, why don't you want me to be here before 10 AM?'
'This is a government job,' the interviewer says. 'For the first two hours we just stand around drinking coffee and scratching our balls. No point in you coming in for that.'
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
The band's second album, Abraxas, was released in September 1970 and was even more successful than its first. It hit number one, remaining in the charts more than a-year-and-a-half and eventually selling over four million copies while spawning the Top Five hit "Black Magic Woman" and the Top Ten hit "Oye Como Va."
~ Mother Teresa
So you have sorrow now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.
~ John 16:22, The Revised Standard Version
Friday, September 05, 2008
To show our solidarity as Americans, let's all get together and show each other our support for the candidate of our choice. It's time that we all came together, Democrats and Republicans alike.
If you support the policies and character of John McCain, please drive with your headlights on during the day.
If you support Obama, please drive with your headlights off at night. Thank you and drive carefully.
For a Christian, even the valleys are on higher ground.
~ D. Reginald Thomas
And said to the judges, Take heed what ye do: for ye judge not for man, but for the Lord, who is with you in the judgment.
~ 2 Chronicles 19:6, The King James Version
If you are not too long, I will wait for you all my life.
~ Oscar Wilde
AN IMPORTANT MESSAGE ABOUT GROWING OLD
Now I forgot what I was gonna tell ya!
Thursday, September 04, 2008
In an interview with the Daily Mail UK in July 2007, Peter Allen writes about "The shocking truth about how my pal Jim Morrison REALLY died".
For more than three decades it has remained one of rock music's most tantalising mysteries. Why did Jim Morrison, legendary lead singer of The Doors, suddenly collapse and die in his Paris apartment, aged only 27?
The official death certificate states he died in the bath of "natural causes". But now, in an exclusive interview with The Mail on Sunday, a former close friend of the singer says he knows the truth.
According to Sam Bernett, Morrison died of a massive heroin overdose in the toilet of a nightclub he was managing, the Rock 'n' Roll Circus on the French capital's fabled Left Bank. Bernett, 62, a French-born former New York Times journalist, claims the death was then covered up by two drug dealers who transferred Morrison's body from the club to the singer's apartment and dumped it in the bath.
Bernett was then warned by the club's owners never to tell anybody about what he had seen. This extraordinary testament is contained in Bernett's forthcoming book "The End - Jim Morrison" soon to be published in France. The allegations are being taken so seriously that they are being examined by the French authorities and may lead to the investigation into Morrison's death being reopened.
Jim Morrison first arrived in Paris in March 1971. One of the most widely-recognised stars in the world, thanks to hits such as Break on Through and Light My Fire, he had just finished recording what was to become The Door's most popular album, LA Woman. He lived a notoriously wild life, abusing both alcohol and drugs, and soon became a regular at the Rock 'n' Roll Circus, a club frequented by the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix.
It also played host to trapeze artists and, on one memorable occasion, a live tiger and monkeys from a nearby circus. In the early hours of 3 July 1971, the underground disco was heaving with 500 revellers, including 24-year-old British siren Marianne Faithfull who had recently split up with Mick Jagger. Morrison, who was living in Paris with his girlfriend Pamela Courson, arrived at about 1am.
"I greeted Jim as I always did," recalled Bernett from his home in Paris. "He didn't look in great form, and immediately went to his usual spot at the bar and ordered a bottle of vodka. He was also drinking beers. "I was used to talking about everything with him - from Janice Joplin to the beatniks - but that night it was just a bit of small talk. "He'd come in to pick up heroin for Pam. He was always collecting drugs for her and the club was full of dealers." According to Bernett, Morrison bought the heroin from two men working for Jean de Breteuil, a French playboy and drug dealer. "The dealers who Jim was talking to were well known," said Bernett. "Both were French guys in their 20s. I knew what they were up to, and kept an eye out for Jim. He disappeared to the toilets at around 2am. "Then, about half an hour later, a cloakroom attendant came up to me and told me someone was locked in one of the cubicles and wasn't coming out. It was then that I got a bouncer to smash the door down.'
Bernett was met by the sight of Morrison's body, slumped on the toilet. In his book, he writes: "I recognised the US Army combat jacket and the riding boots from the Camargue region of France which he never took off. It was Jim Morrison, with his head between his knees, his arms dangling. "For a few seconds our eyes were glued to the unmoving corpse. We were mesmerised by the baffling spectacle. "The flamboyant singer of The Doors, the cool and good-looking Californian guy, was now a collapsed and inert lump lying in a nightclub toilet. "Seeing Jim in such a bad way was pretty awful. We were certain he'd been snorting heroin because there was foam coming out of his lips as well as blood. He was scared of needles so never injected drugs. He just snorted them." Bernett's first reaction was to send for one of his regular customers, a doctor. The medic, who Bernett refuses to name, "recognised Morrison but kept his cool. Very calmly, and expertly, he examined the body for a few seconds.
Sam Bernett alleges that Morrison died of a massive heroin overdose in the toilet of a nightclub he was managing. "He pushed Jim's head back, lifted his eyelids, opened his mouth, and fixed his ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He looked for marks and bruises on the body and the arms. "It was a quick and professional examination. His diagnosis was very confident: 'This man is dead. Apparently the victim of a cardiac arrest.' The doctor was not stupid and spoke of a lethal overdose." In the meantime, Morrison's two "friends" from the bar who had sold him the heroin had arrived. Ignoring the doctor's verdict, they insisted the singer 'had just fainted' and they would take care of him. Then, according to Bernett, they lifted Morrison's body out of the toilets and along a corridor that linked the Circus with Alcazar, the club next door which still exists today. That was the last Bernett saw of the body but, from Alcazar, he says it would have been easy to place Morrison in a car or van waiting in the small side street outside, and then take the body to the singer's apartment across the river in Rue Beautreillis. Minutes after the tragedy, a representative of the club's owner - a well-connected Paris businessman called Paul Pacini still alive, we are trying to get a comment from him] - warned Bernett not to tell anyone what had happened. Bernett says: "I was told, "Since Morrison's friends want to take him with them, we have nothing more to do with this story. "The club has no responsibility for what happens here. It was a sad accident, certainly, but that's fate. So we saw nothing, we heard nothing, we shut up! OK? It's what we better do to avoid a scandal." Bernett adds that he saw little point in calling the emergency services, as he was convinced Morrison was already dead and nothing could be done for him.
And he says anyone else in the club that night who had an inkling of what went on - including Marianne Faithfull - was also sworn to secrecy. Incredibly, after Morrison's body was found in his apartment, no proper investigation into his death was carried out. Pamela Courson, Morrison's girlfriend since they were at university together in Los Angeles, swore on oath that her lover had been alive and well the night before. She told police they had been to the cinema together and then returned home at 1am - the time Bernett claims Morrison was arriving at The Circus - where she did the washing up and he watched a film, before they retired to bed to listen to music. Then, in the middle of the night, Morrison had woken up coughing and she had watched him leave the room to take a bath "and relax". Max Vassille, a compliant French doctor, was happy to write off Morrison's demise as "death from natural causes", pointing out that the singer had been suffering from a serious stomach ulcer and asthma attacks after moving from America earlier in the year. He ruled that no autopsy was required, as there was "no evidence of foul play". Vassille and Pamela Courson have both since died.
Morrison's official death report, still filed at Paris town hall, has been used ever since to quash countless conspiracy theories ranging from security agency plots to theories that Morrison faked his own death to escape the trappings of fame. As for Marianne Faithfull, Bernett says she and Jean de Breteuil left Paris for Morocco the moment they heard about Morrison's death. "De Breteuil was Pam's dealer, and had supplied the heroin on the night," said Bernett. "He and Marianne immediately packed their bags and headed for Casablanca, where De Breteuil had relatives. They didn't want to hang about. "Marianne never mentioned Jim again. She won't talk about what happened in the club to this day." The Mail on Sunday contacted Marianne Faithfull but she was unavailable for comment. De Breteuil died of an overdose not long after Morrison. Bernett, a former journalist who now presents programmes on French national radio, says he has finally decided to break his silence despite risking prosecution for covering up the death in his club.
"I was 26 in 1971," he said. "Today, I'm past 60, and want to get rid of my heavy load. At least everything is now out there to be discussed. I've said what I have to say." According to French law, criminal cases cannot be reopened after 20 years have lapsed. However, civil law - as well as international law - may provide an opportunity for investigators to re-open the case. A spokesman for France's Police National said: "The new evidence will have to be considered.
~ James Cabot
But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves to God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.
~ Romans 6:22, The New International Version
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Mama W set her sights on Pop, as he was considered the most eligible bachelor in those parts to several older, single women, mostly widowed, But Mama W won him over and they were married, much to the dismay of several local ladies. Pop's first wife had suddenly died the day that they were to move into a brand new home that he'd built for her in town. Instead, my grandmother and Pop moved into it. As far as I can recollect, and I didn't think twice about it until now, we went down to the new house in Memphis for the ceremony. It is exactly 97 miles from Amarillo where we lived. The house was all furnished and decorated, just like it was already lived in, if you get my meaning. So Mama W became Mom D and Pop is what we called our new grandfather, or Poppa D, but usually just Pop. I rather think he liked it.
Over the next few years, Sissy and I would spend a lot of time with them. Usually it was during school break over the summer. We would stay two weeks, go back to Amarillo a week, and then be begging to go back to Memphis. We were the "new girls in town", and in a town of roughly 4,000 citizens, with one school for grades K-12, you can imagine that in any age group, the pickens were slim. So when we came to town, it was a little bit of excitement among our peers there. We'd made girlfriends and those girlfriends were pretty possessive about their boyfriends, who were pretty curious about the girls from Amarillo.
My grandmother was my contemporary. She was the absolute best grandmother a girl could have ever hoped for. She understood our being bridled at home and that urge to break loose and explore. She allowed us a very loose rein in her care, and we really loved her and respected her limits for it. She was extremely understanding and easy to talk to. It was nothing unusual for a group of boys and/or girls to drop by to see us, and for my grandmother and Pop to retire to their room, with her usual announcement, "y'all can have the living room. We're going to bed."
They'd go to their bedroom and Lord Almighty, we'd whoop it up, have fun, play our rock and roll on her stereo as loud as we wanted. And in all the years that we time spent in this blissful place, my grandmother never once got up from her bed and scolded us for being too loud or too anything. She gave us free run of the house. Lord, how I miss her. I loved that great lady more than anything in this world.
She taught me to embroidery, which was the most creative fun I've ever had, not to mention sewing my own clothes. I never could get the knack of crochet, though; I could crochet a long line, unravel it and start all over again, but I could never make any sense of hooking it together and making anything useful from it.
For Sissy's sixteenth birthday, Mom D allowed her to have a pajama party. We took her finest chairs from the dining room outside, along with her good sheets, and we made a huge tent where we and the girls who were invited stayed all night long dressed in our cute little girlie pajamas. Back then, lots of girls went around with huge curlers in their hair, always giving one the indication that she had a date later or some other special occasion. To be seen in your curlers meant you had plans, big plans, and therefore, you were a popular girl indeed. Some girls with really long hair even used orange juice cans so as to keep the hair as straight as possible.
Pop had a sister, Aunt Pearl, who lived in a really old shack of a house, but it was clean. She was so old, and we wondered if her legs wouldn't break, she was so bow-legged. She drove Sissy and I nuts always calling and wanting to come over. Looking back, I realize she was lonesome, but she was such a busy-body that it really got on our nerves, and certainly cramped our style as far as our company in the evenings. Aunt Pearl would call, "there's a cloud a'comin' up in the west!" That meant, I'm afraid to stay by myself, come and get me. Nine times out of ten, there was no cloud, no rain, but she came anyway. She'd sit in the living room after dinner and watch every move you made and ask you why you did it. It was really exasperating.
One of those memorable nights was the night of Sissy's sleepover for her birthday. We were a bunch of giggling teenage girls, running in and out of the house to get something to drink or go to the restroom, and as per custom, Mom D never once got out of her bed and bothered us. But not Aunt Pearl. She was standing in the doorway to her bedroom every time we came inside to do something. She was so aggravating and it was really embarrasing. Eventually, when a couple of the girls came out of the restroom and heard Aunt Pearl's question for about the 10th time, "what're you doing?", I guess they'd had enough. One of the girl's name was Ramona. She turned and looked old Aunt Pearl straight in the face and said, "well, we don't ask you what you're doing when you go to the bathroom!" The next day, we told Mom D about Aunt Pearl's constant worrying over everything we did and that it darn near ruined the party. Mom D was livid. She said she was going to speak to her, and I'm sure she did. She didn't mince words if there were any to be said. I got that from her, I reckon.
I went through one boyfriend and another in Memphis, and had my dry spells, too. Sissy had a special feeling for one particular guy. His parents owned the private swimming pool and skating arena in town. His name was Timmy. He and Sissy would start and stop with every summer season over the next few years. Then finally came the summer when we arrived and learned that he was "going with" one of our girlfriends and was off limits. But Sissy has very strong character, and she never let it show that it bothered her. In a town so small, the girls and boys simply traded partners year-round. There wasn't much to choose from.
I suppose that it was that summer that Timmy was otherwise occupied that I had set my sights on a guy named Donnie. Donnie was a stocky guy, wore his short shirt sleeves rolled, actually had a beard heavy enough to required shaving, and the bluest eyes you've ever seen. I was smack silly over this guy. He came to the house, him and his brother, David, who was a total replica of Donnie, except he had blond hair. Sissy and I spent a couple of weeks in Memphis, then returned to Amarillo for a week, and then back to Memphis we went. Donnie and I exchanged letters that week that we were apart. When we returned to Memphis, Donnie became distant and I noticed him talking to and giving Sissy a lot of attention. I'd say I made a pretty nice fool of myself googling and gaggling over him, vying for his attention. Sissy, she was different. She sat quietly and stared at me with this little smirk of a grin. She was so cool and collected with the opposite sex. And really, I don't think it was a game with her. Either she liked you or she didn't and she didn't waste time crying over spilled milk either. But over a couple of years time, my sister and I repeated this scenario more than once. I'd have a boyfriend and somehow, he'd suddenly be smitten with my sister and I was history. I don't know if it was intentional, but sometimes I think it was. The boys didn't know they were the men in a chess game between sisters. They were pawns and they were my sister's to have if she liked. As far as Donnie and his brother, Mom D had told me in several times that they were not from the "right kind of family" for us. She felt they were beneath us, and that was the first time I remember that point being made to me over a boy.
Sissy tried to counsel me in the ways of being a woman when it came to the opposite sex; how to be aloof and never let them think you care. But I wore my heart on my sleeve all of my life, and it caused me a great deal of grief. I never listened to her, not even as an adult. Yet, she has always been there for me, whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on or needed advice. She never lost her patience, even though I failed miserably at heeding the advice she gave. She never has turned her back on me, and with that, my love for her knows no bounds.
So it was eventually that she "stole" Donnie from me, even after me warning her time and again behind closed doors, "you better not take Donnie" and her acting like she hadn't the foggiest idea what I was talking about. I recall another awful trait that I had and that was to allow such a loss to devastate me. After Donnie had obviously dropped all interest in me, I went in Mom D's swanky bathroom, laid myself down in the floor upon her nice, soft, pink floor mat and cried and wailed as if I'd lost my mother or father. It was ridiculously insane of me, that behavior. I cried for days on end and I was forlorn and depressed beyond any help. I just had to ride it out.
Those years of weeks spent in Memphis were some of the best times of my life. They must have been, for their memory peaks above many other memories in my mind. My grandmother allowing us to drive her big 1966 Cadillac Coup de Ville when we were but 12 and 14 years old, for one thing was pushing the limits. But, she allowed us many privileges we were not accustomed to at home, like going off in cars with groups of boys and girls, for another example.
Timmy had a little white Ford Falcon with a three-speed stick on the column. There were six of us in that little car one summer afternoon, and it had been raining cats and dogs. Timmy drove out to the baseball field and proceeded to peel all over the place in the mud doing one donut after the other. We'd laugh uncontrollably at him slamming the shift straight up when he kicked it into second gear, gaining speed, and then suddenly, he'd slam on the brakes and whip the steering wheel at the same time and we'd spin out like crazy in the mud. Gosh how we all laughed at that.
Every afternoon was spent at the pool. It opened promptly at 1:00 p.m. We rose every morning to a full five course breakfast, courtesy of Mom D, then we had specified "chores" to do, then we'd get ourselves made up and ready to go to the pool. That was followed by lunch, doing the lunchtime dishes, waiting impatiently for Mom D's "As The World Turns" to end, and THEN we would be dropped at the pool for the rest of the afternoon. We didn't like for Pop to drive us anywhere. He'd stop at a "Stop" sign, and then give it the gas without ever looking in either direction. We'd had all the near-misses we wanted.
As I said, Mom D gave us a lot of latitude, but let one of us sass her or get the least out of line and she'd threaten, "I'll call your Daddy!" and with that, we straightened ourselves right quick. That was the last thing we wanted, because Daddy never spared the rod and we were genuinely afraid of his wrath.
Those summers are a long way off and it isn't any wonder that I become both happy and melancholy at the same time when I reminisce about them. I drove through there around 1985 and found the pool, but it had been sold to someone else. I found Mom D's house, but the beautiful and endless flowers that surrounded the entire home were gone, only to be replaced with empty dirt.
If you're following the undertones of this particular story in my life, you might make note of a sentence wherein I said that when Donnie dropped me, I "cried and wailed as if I'd lost my mother or father." You see, what I did not know then, but know now, is that I did lose my mother and father, my biological mother and father. That loss plagued my relationships with others, mostly the opposite sex, all of my life. It has been the biggest stumbling block you can imagine. I was always looking for approval, acceptance, and unconditional and lasting love. But love failed me time and time again, and I cried and wailed enough in my lifetime to fit the losses of 100 women, let alone just one.
My sister and I, we always got past those little things that happened, but my reaction to them was and still is something that I am slowly resolving within myself. My sister and I experienced the same trauma, but how we each dealt with it then and now is altogether different. Breaking up with a boyfriend has always been a huge sign of "rejection" for me and I have always been left wondering, "What did I do? What should I have done different?" One of the answers was to try to hard, another, to be too needy, and yet another, to cling too hard.
Life goes on, as will this story and my journey to unravel the ties that have bound me.