Thursday, November 29, 2007

TOUCHING CHRISTMAS STORY

My friend, Lois Miller, sent me this beautiful, touching Christmas story about a family falling on hard times. 1/4/2004

THE BIG WHEEL

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.

The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job … still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called The Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night.

I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job.

And so I started at The Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money-fully half of what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home. One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough.Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in The Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up.

When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. [We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.] It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car-or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what.

When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door, scrambled inside and knelt in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It as full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.

As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning. Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop.


'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, [ MOM STYLE]

My neighbor, Jackie Wilkie, sent this clever poem that most mother's can relate to. 12/23/2003

Sometimes we need reminding of what life is all about. Especially at times during the Holiday season, when all we seem to do is clean and bake and shop and and and and and and and … You get the picture, I'm sure. So stop for a moment and hug that little one so special, whether he/she is 2 or 22, or even older than that. For they are the Gift that God gave us in life . . . and what a gift to be treasured, far above any other! May the real meaning of Christmas be with you all this year, is my prayer.

Twas the night before Christmas...[Mom style ]

Twas the night before Christmas,
When all through the abode
Only one creature was stirring,
And she was cleaning the commode.

The children were finally sleeping,
All snug in their beds,
While visions of Nintendo 64 and Barbie,
Flipped through their heads.

The dad was snoring
In front of the TV,
With a half-constructed bicycle
Propped on his knee.

So only the Mom heard
The reindeer hooves clatter,
Which made her sigh,
"Now what is the matter?"

With toilet bowl brush
Still Clutched in her hand,
She descended the stairs,
And saw the old man.

He was covered with ashes

And soot, which fell with a shrug,
"Oh great" muttered the Mom,
"Now I have to clean the rug."

"Ho Ho Ho!" cried Santa,
"I'm glad you're awake.
Your gift was especially
Difficult to make."

"Thanks, Santa, But all I want is time alone."
"Exactly!" he chuckled, "So I've made you a clone."
"A clone?" she muttered, "What good is that?
Run along, Santa, I've no time for chit chat."

Then out walked the clone. The mother's twin,
Same hair, same eyes, Same double chin.
She'll cook, she'll dust, She'll mop every mess.
You'll relax, take it easy, Watch The Young And The Restless."

"Fantastic!" the Mom cheered. "My dream has come true!"
I'll shop, I'll read, I'll sleep a night through!"
From the room above, The youngest did fret.

"Mommy! Come quickly, I'm scared and I'm wet."

The clone replied, "I'm coming, sweetheart."
Hey," the Mom smiled, "She sure knows her part."
The clone changed the small one And hummed her tune,
As she bundled the child In a blanket cocoon.

“You’re the best Mommy ever.
I really love you.”
The clone smiled and sighed,“

nd I love you, too.”

The Mom frowned and said, "Sorry, Santa, no deal.
That's my child's LOVE She is trying to steal."
Smiling wisely Santa said, "To me it is clear,
Only one loving mother Is needed here."

he Mom kissed her child And tucked her in bed.
Thank You, Santa, For clearing my head.
I sometimes forget, It won't be very long,
When they'll be too old For my cradle and song."

The clock on the mantle Began to chime.
Santa whispered to the clone, "It works every time."
With the clone by his side Santa said "Goodnight".
Merry Christmas, dear Mom, You will be all right."

Hero General John Borling's POW Christmas Poem

The Other Christmas

-By General John Borling, Republican candidate for U.S. Senate

In the spirit of the season, General John Borling (GOP U.S. Senate candidate) recalls the holidays he spent as a POW in North Vietnam by writing poetry mentally composed (including the one below) while in a communist prison camp. Borling would tap it through the walls as a present to his comrades and as a reminder of what Christmas means. Since our nation is blessed to have the continuing service of its military men and women, the message is contemporary still.


The Other Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, and out at alert,
Not a creature was stirring, card table desert,
The pilots and crew chiefs in bunk rooms asleep
Toss fitful awaiting the klaxon to leap,
And off in the corner, a dark, tinseled tree,
It’s Christmas again in the land of the free.

Twas the night before Christmas out over the pond
Where a Starlifter strains for far Europe beyond.
The drone of its engines an ole carol say,
Germany tomorrow, Mid-East next day.
The instrument panel dull red all aglow,
Back home at McGuire, it’s starting to snow.

Twas the night before Christmas so far out at sea,
Be it cruiser, destroyer or Battle Group CV
Up forward, the lookout marks tolling of bells,
No church steeples here, just salt spray, and ground swells.
And on watch, on the bridge, the O.D. doth roam,
The Captain’s Chair empty, both here, and at home.

Twas the night before Christmas, up over the pole,
There’s a B-52 on atomic patrol.
With peace their profession, its crew doth attend
Their fortress of strength to deter and defend.
Strange, all electronics of this modern day
Show nary a sign of old Santa and sleigh.

Twas the night before Christmas, a deployment call comes,
So good-bye little children who dream sugar plums,
Tomorrow they’ll wake, their young eyes all alight,
Then blink back the tears, Daddy’s left in the night.
Now far from the hearth where each stocking is hung,
Cross cold, starlit skies, a small aircraft is flung.

Twas the night before Christmas, down deep in the pad
Stands a Minuteman poised, if the world should go mad.
Its cold chimney silo hath no warming place
Nor rooftop awaiting a swift courser’s pace.
And what yuletide missal from men waiting still,
Though strange it may seem, peace on earth, and good will.

Twas the night before Christmas mud up to the knee,
Here’s a lone foxhole dug by a young PFC.
He’s only eighteen, Christmas Eve seems to close
But ready he stands, to destroy unknown foes.
He’s scared, but he’ll do the grim job that he must,
In him have we placed, our defense and our trust.

Twas the night before Christmas, all over the earth,
There’s a serviceman standing, no mistletoe mirth.
He’s Army and Navy, Air Force and Marines,
If asked, he could tell you, how much Christmas means.
You don’t know his names, waiting children or wife,
But for you, if need be, he’ll lay down his life.

Twas the night before Christmas, and then, Christmas Day,
And just maybe you’ll think of those troops far away,
And just maybe, take out a moment or two,
Say a short prayer for them, the family and you.
A small price indeed for your bright, tinseled tree,
It’s Christmas again, in the land of the free.

CHRISTMAS CAROLS FOR THE PSYCHIATRICALLY CHALLENGED

For a change of pace ... let us have a few laughs together.

Schizophrenia --- Do You Hear What I Hear?

Multiple Personality Disorder --- We Three Kings Disoriented Are

Dementia --- I Think I'll be Home for Christmas

Narcissistic --- Hark the Herald Angles Sing About Me

Manic --- Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores and Office and Town and Cars and Busses and Trucks and Trees and Fire Hydrants and ....

Paranoid --- Santa Claus is Coming to Get Me

Borderline Personality Disorder --- Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire

Personality Disorder --- You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout, Maybe I'll tell You Why

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder ---Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells





GOD BLESS OUR TROOPS

A Powerful Message

A powerful message for this Season of thanks. The following passage is from a sermon by John Hagee:

I want you to close your eyes and picture in your mind the soldier at Valley Forge, as he holds his musket in his bloody hands. He stands barefoot in the snow, starved from lack of food, wounded from months of battle and emotionally scarred from the eternity away from his family surrounded by nothing but death and carnage of war. He stands though, with fire in his eyes and victory on his breath. He looks at us now in anger and disgust and tells us this ...

"I gave you a birthright of freedom born in the Constitution and now your children graduate too illiterate to read it.

I fought in the snow barefoot to give you the freedom to vote and you stay at home because it rains.

I left my family destitute to give you the freedom of speech and you remain silent on critical issues, because it might be bad for business.

I orphaned my children to give you a government to serve you and it has stolen democracy from the people.

It's the soldier, not the reporter who gives you the freedom of the press.

It's the soldier, not the poet who gives you the freedom of speech.

It's the soldier, not the campus organizer who allows you to demonstrate.

It's the soldier, who salutes the flag, serves the flag, whose coffin is draped with the flag that allows the protester to burn the flag!"

"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. I ask this in the name of Jesus, our Lord and Savior. Amen."

A WW II Soldier's Christmas Poem

A friend, who is head of AMVETS, sent this to me. This is his request ... "I think it is reasonable to ask ... PLEASE ... to do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our US service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this small seed.
-Dave Woodbury 12/9/2003

A Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan wrote this poem.

'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
He lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of
Plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney
With presents to give,
And to see just who
In this home did live.

I looked all about,
A strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.

No stockings by the mantle,
Just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures
Of far distant lands.

With medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds,
A sober thought
Came through my mind.

For this house was different,
It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping,
Silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor
In this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle,
The room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured
A United States soldier.

Was this the hero
Of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?

I realized the families
That I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers
Who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world,
The children would play,
And grownups would celebrate
A bright Christmas Day.

They all enjoyed freedom
Each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers
Like the one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder
How many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve
In a land far from home.

The very thought
Brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
And started to cry.

The soldier awakened
And I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry,
This life is my choice;

I fight for freedom,
I don't ask for more,
My life is my God,
My country, my corps."

The soldier rolled over
And drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still
And we both shivered
From the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave
On that cold, dark, night,
This guardian of honor
So willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over,
With a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, "Carry on Santa,
It's Christmas Day, all is secure."

One look at my watch,
And I knew he was right.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND,
AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

A SOLDIER'S CHRISTMAS

A Soldier's Christmas

The embers glowed softly and in their dim light, I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight. My wife was asleep, her head on my chest, my daughter beside me, angelic in rest. Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white, transforming the yard to a winter delight. The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe, completed the magic that was Christmas Eve. My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep, secure and surrounded by love I would sleep in perfect contentment, or so it would seem. So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream. The sound wasn't loud. And it wasn't too near, but I opened my eye when it tickled my ear. Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.

My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear, and I crept to the door just to see who was near. Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night, a lone figure stood, his face weary and tight. A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old; perhaps a Marine huddled here in the cold. Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled, standing watch over me, my wife and my child. "What are you doing?" I asked without fear. "Come in this moment, it's freezing out there! Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve, you should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"

For barely a moment I saw his eye shift away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts, to the window that danced with a warm fire's light. Then he sighed and he said, "It's really all right, I’m out here by choice. I'm here every night. It's my duty to stand at the front of the line that separates you from the darkest of times. No one had to ask or beg or implore me. I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.My Gramps died at Pearl on a day in December." Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas Gram always remembers. My dad stood his watch in the jungles of Nam and now it's my turn and so, here I am. I've not seen my own son in more than a while, but my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile." Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag, the red white and blue … an American flag.

"I can live through the cold and the being alone, away from my family, my house and my home. I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet; I can sleep in a fox hole with little to eat. I can carry the weight of killing another or lay down my life with my sisters and brothers who stand at the front against any and all, to ensure for all times that this flag will not fall. Oh go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright, your family is waiting and I'll be all right."


"But isn't there something I can do, at the least? Give you money?" I asked, "Or prepare you a feast? It all seems too little for all that you've done, for being away from your wife and your son." Then his eye welled with a tear that held no regret, "Just tell us you love us, and never forget to fight for our rights back home while we're gone; to stand your own watch, no matter how long. For when we come home, either standing or dead, to know you remember we fought and we bled is payment enough, and with that we will trust that we mattered to you as you mattered to us."
TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

There is one Christmas Carol that has always baffled me. Have you ever wondered about THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS? What in the world do leaping lords, French hens, swimming swans, and especially the partridge that won't come out of the pear tree have to do with Christmas?

Today, I found out.

From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly. Someone during that era wrote this carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. It has two levels of meaning: the surface meaning plus a hidden meaning known only to members of their church. Each element in the carol has a code word for a religious reality, which the children could remember.

The partridge in a pear tree was Jesus Christ.

Two turtledoves were the Old and New Testaments.

Three French hens stood for faith, hope and love.

The four calling birds were the four gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke & John.

The five golden rings recalled the Torah or Law, the first five books of the Old Testament.

The six geese a-laying stood for the six days of creation.

Seven swans a-swimming represented the sevenfold gifts of the Holy Spirit: Prophesy, Serving, Teaching, Exhortation, Contribution, Leadership, and Mercy.

The eight maids a-milking were the eight beatitudes.

Nine ladies dancing were the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit: Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self Control.

The ten lords a-leaping were the Ten Commandments.

The eleven pipers piping stood for the eleven faithful disciples.

The twelve drummers drumming symbolized the twelve points of belief in The Apostles' Creed.

So there is your history for today. This knowledge was shared with me from my daughter, Susan Beighey Morrell, and I found it interesting and enlightening and now I know how that strange song became a Christmas Carol.

Merry Christmas!!
CHRISTMAS

IF I WERE SANTA, I’D …
If I were a rockin’ Santa, you know what I’d do? I’d dump the silly gifts that are given to you. I’d deliver some things just inside your front door … things you have lost, but treasured before. I’d give you back all your maidenly vigor, and to go along with it, a neat, tiny figure; Then restore the old color that once graced your hair before rinses and bleaches took residence there.

I’d bring back the shape with which you were gifted, so things now suspended need not be uplifted. I'd draw in your tummy and smooth down your back till you'd be a dream in those tight fitting slacks! I'd remove all your wrinkles and have only one chin, so you wouldn't spend hours rubbing grease on your skin. You'd never have flashes or queer dizzy spells, and you wouldn't hear noises like ringing of bells.

No sore aching feet, and no corns on your toes no searching for spectacles when they're right on your nose. Not a shot would you take in your arm, hip or fanny from a doctor who thinks you're a nervous old granny. You'd never have a headache; so no pills would you take. And no heating pad needed since your muscles won't ache.

Yes, if I were Santa, you'd never look stupid. You'd be a cute little chick with the romance of a cupid. I'd give a lift to your heart when those wolves start to whistle, and the joys of your heart would be light as a thistle. But alas! I'm not Santa. I'm simply just me, the matronest of matrons you ever did see.

I wish I could tell you all the symptoms I've got, but I'm due at my doctor's for an estrogen shot. Even though we've grown older this wish is sincere:
Merry Christmas to you! And a Happy New Year!






Saturday, November 24, 2007

WOMEN

GREAT QUOTES BY GREAT LADIES

Inside every older person is a younger person -- wondering what the hell happened.
-Cora Harvey Armstrong

Inside me lives a skinny woman crying to get out. But I can usually shut the bitch up with cookies.

-Anonymous

The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy.
-Helen Hayes (at 73)

I refuse to think of them as chin hairs. Now, I think of them as stray eyebrows.

-Janette Barbe

Things are going to get a lot worse before they get worse.

-Lily Tomlin

A male gynecologist is like an auto mechanic who never owned a car.

-Carrie Snow

Laugh and the world laughs with you. Cry and you cry with your girlfriends.

-Laurie Kuslansk

My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being, hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint.

-Erma Bombeck

Old age ain't no place for sissies.

-Bette Davis

A man's got to do what a man's got to do. A woman must do what he can't.

-Rhonda Hansome

The phrase "working mother" is redundant.

-Jane Sellman

Every time I close the door on reality, it comes in through the windows.
-Jennifer Unlimited

Whatever women must do they must do twice as well as men to be thought half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult.

-Charlotte Whitton

Thirty-five is when you finally get your head together and your body starts falling apart.

-Caryn Leschen

I try to take one day at a time -- but sometimes several days attack me at once.
-Jennifer Unlimited

If you can't be a good example -- then you'll just have to be a horrible warning.
-Catherine

When I was young, I was put in a school for retarded kids for two years before they realized I actually had a hearing loss. And they called ME slow!
-Kathy Buckley

I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb -- and I'm also not blonde. -Dolly Parton

If high heels were so wonderful, men would still be wearing them.

-Sue Grafton

I'm not going to vacuum 'til Sears makes one you can ride on.

-Roseanne Barr

When women are depressed they either eat or go shopping. Men invade another country.
-Elayne Boosler

Behind every successful man is a surprised woman.
-Maryon Pearson

In politics, if you want anything said, ask a man. If you want anything done, ask a woman.
-Margaret Thatcher

I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career.
-Gloria Steinem

I am a marvelous housekeeper. Every time I leave a man, I keep his house.

-Zsa Zsa Gabor

Nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission.
-Eleanor Roosevelt







Thursday, November 22, 2007

FAMILY INSPIRATIONl

FAMILY INSPIRATION

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, reheating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste means affluence. Throwing away things meant You knew there'd always be more.


But then my husband died, and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of our bedroom, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more. No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more "just one minute"... sometimes, what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away ... never to return before we can say good-bye, say, "I love you". So, while we have it, … it's best we love it ... and care for it ... and fix it when it's broken ... and heal it when it's sick. This is true ... for marriage ... and old cars ... and children with bad report cards ... and dogs with bad hips and aging parents and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it. Some things we keep - like a best friend that moved away or a classmate we grew up with. There are just some things that make us happy, no matter what. Life is important, like people we know who are special ... and so, we keep them close!====================================================================

PARENTING

THE TORCH

Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring become accountable for their own actions? Is there a wonderful moment when parents can become detached spectators in the lives of their children and shrug, "It's their life," and feel nothing?

When I was in my twenties, I stood in a hospital corridor waiting for doctors to put a few stitches in my son's head. I asked, "When do you stop worrying?" The nurse said, "When they get out of the accident stage." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my thirties, I sat on a little chair in a classroom and heard how one of my children talked incessantly, disrupted the class, and was headed for a career making license plates. As if to read my mind, a teacher said, "Don't worry, they all go through this stage and then you can sit back, relax and enjoy them." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

When I was in my forties, I spent a lifetime waiting for the phone to ring, the cars to come home, the front door to open. A friend said, "They're trying to find themselves. Don't worry, in a few years, you can stop worrying. They'll be adults." My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

By the time I was 50, I was sick & tired of being vulnerable. I was still worrying over my children, but there was a new wrinkle. There was nothing I could do about it. My mother just smiled faintly and said nothing.

I continued to anguish over their failures, be tormented by their frustrations and absorbed in their disappointments.My friends said that when my kids got married, I could stop worrying and lead my own life. I wanted to believe that, but I was haunted by my mother's warm smile and her occasional, "You look pale." "Are you all right?" "Call me the minute you get home." "Drive carefully!"

Can it be that parents are sentenced to a lifetime of worry? Is concern for one another handed down like a torch to blaze the trail of human frailties and the fears of the unknown? Is concern a curse or is it a virtue that elevates us to the highest form of life? One of my children became quite irritable recently, saying to me, "Where are you? I've been calling for 3 days, and no one answered. I was worried." I smiled a warm smile. The torch has been passed. Pass it on to other parents ... and also to your children. That's the fun part.

Family Thanksgiving

[Carole’s message to family for Thanksgiving 2000)

FAMILY IS FOREVER


Even though we will not be together to celebrate this Thanksgiving, our hearts and prayers will be with you all. We have much to be thankful for. Let us bow our heads and thank God for our many blessings.


Think of all the wonderful Thanksgivings we have been blessed to enjoy. On Thanksgiving, one thing I always remember vividly is my Mother, in one of the countless aprons she made, leaning over the oven, basting the large family turkey, covered with cheesecloth that held the juices in while Dad peered over her shoulder, yum-yumming, thinking of the turkey leg he was sure to get and the big turkey sandwich that would follow. We'd all gather around inhaling the good smells, anxiously awaiting the best feasts I'd ever eaten.

Thanksgiving dinner was a time for Mom to get Grandma Ballard's flow blue china down from the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard and wash those precious dishes we used for special occasions, laying out her antique lace tablecloth, setting the table with our finest silverware, Mom's wedding candlesticks and freshly ironed cloth napkins folded delicately at each place. I would step aside and admire it until its beauty almost took my breath away.


Soon it was time to whip the cream for the pumpkin pie. Whipped cream was a luxery for our family. We lived in a small village where the local market only sold such luxeries for holidays or special occasions and it was expensive. But Mom would allow us this special treat to spoon over her delicious pumpkin pie, which happened to be the best pumpkin pie I've ever eaten.

But, best of all, it was time for our family to gather together. Grandma La Flamme would come from Detroit with Aunt Virginia and Uncle Martin and Bob, and sometimes Uncle Mart's sister, Aunt June and Uncle Del and Susan and Dutchie. Our dear friend, Father Paul, a Franciscan priest who assisted our parish priest, Father Bourget, at St. Anne's Catholic Church in Linwood, Michigan, was a regular guest on holidays as well as anyone else who had nowhere to go. Mom and Dad always had room for one more.


It was a day of love, togetherness and merriment ... days, I'm grateful we shared, days which were some of the best memories of my life. After dinner we would put on skits, play the piano, sing songs; Mom and Dad would harmonize singing Smile The While and When You Wore A Tulip and other romantic favorites; Dad and Aunt Ginny would play the ukelele ; with a bit of coaxing Mom could be teased into doing her rendition of Alouette, which was always a hit. Grandma La Flamme would play the spoons on her knees while we kids would wrap wax paper around combs and hum songs into them that made our lips tickle. Those were wonderful fun memorable times that I will always treasure. I wish you could have been there to remember as I do. But we will make new memories and in time, you will be remembering the old times just like I remember mine.

Okay, enough nostalgia. Just really wanted to tell you that we are thinking of each of you and that we will be missing you. We love you all.

Hugs and kisses galore. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Mom and Dad

Family Thanksgiving

[Carole’s message to family for Thanksgiving 2000)

FAMILY IS FOREVER

HAPPY THANKSGIVING! WITH LOTS OF LOVE! MOM & DAD

Our hearts will be with you all. We all have so much to be thankful for. Let's bow our heads and thank God for our many blessings, which we have many.

Think of all the wonderful Thanksgivings in our lives. One thing I remember vividly is my Mother, in her apron, leaning over the oven, basting the turkey. We'd all gather around inhaling the good smells, anxiously awaiting the best feasts I'd ever eaten.

Every year, Thanksgiving was time for getting out Grandma's flow blue china, washing it and setting the table until it's beauty almost took my breath away. It was time for the special treat of whipped cream (a luxury for us) we spooned atop Mom's delicious pumpkin pie, also the best I've ever eaten.

But, best of all, it was time for our family to all be together. Grandma and relatives came. Father Paul and anyone else who had nowhere to go joined us for dinner. Mom always had room for one more. It was a day of love, togetherness and merriment...days, I'm grateful, were some of the best memories of my life. How about you? We love you all.

Hugs and kisses galore,

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Mothers

I love you Mom!!! You are so wonderful and special and I'm so glad your MY Mom! Love, Annie


BEFORE I WAS A MOM



I made and ate hot meals. I had unstained clothing. I had quiet conversations on the phone.

Before I was a Mom, I slept as late as I wantedand never worried about how late I got into bed. I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday. Before I was a Mom, I cleaned my house each day. I never tripped over toys or forgot words to lullabies. Before I was a Mom, I didn't worry whether my plants were poisonous. I never thought about immunizations. Before I was a Mom, I had never been puked on, Pooped on, Spit on, Chewed on, Peed on, Or pinched by tiny fingers. Before I was a Mom, I had complete control of my mind, My thoughts, My body, I slept all night. Before I was a Mom, I never held down a screaming child so that doctors could do tests or give shots. I never looked into teary eyes and cried. I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin. I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep. Before I was a Mom, I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down. I never felt my heart break into a million pieces When I couldn't stop the hurt. I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much. I never knew that I could love someone so much. I never knew I would love being a Mom. Before I was a Mom, I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body. I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby. I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child. I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important. Before I was a Mom, I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay. I had never known the warmth, The joy, The love, The heartache, The wonderment, Or the satisfaction of being a Mom. I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a Mom. Send this to someone who you think is a special Mom.

Thanksgiving

THOUGHTS ON HOW TO OBSERVE THANKSGIVING

Count your blessings instead of your crosses;
Count your gains instead of your losses.
Count your joys instead of your woes;
Count your friends instead of your foes.
Count your smiles instead of your tears;
Count your courage instead of your fears.
Count your full years instead of your lean;
Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.
Count your health instead of your wealth;
Count on God instead of yourself.

--Anonymous
HAPPY THANKSGIVING



'Twas the night of Thanksgiving, but I just couldn't sleep. I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep. The leftovers beckoned - the dark meat and white, I fought the temptation with all of my might. Tossing and turning with want and gazed at the fridge, full of goodies galore. I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes, pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes. I felt myself swelling so plump and so round, 'til all of a sudden, I rose off the ground. I crashed through the ceiling, floating into the sky with a mouthful of pudding and a handful of pie. But I managed to yell as I soared past the trees ... Good eating to all - pass the cranberries, please. May your stuffing be tasty, may your turkey be plump. May your potatoes 'n gravy have nary a lump, may your yams be delicious, may your pies take the prize, may your Thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs.


HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!!!



















Black November

When I was a young turkey, new to the coop,
My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop,
Then he sat me down, and he spoke real slow,
And he told me there was something that I had to know; His look and his tone I will always remember,
When he told me of the horrors of... Black November. "Come about August, now listen to me, Each day you'll get six meals instead of just three,
"And soon you'll be thick, where once you were thin,
And you'll grow a big rubbery thing under your chin;
"And then one morning, when you're warm in your bed,
In'll burst the farmer's wife, and hack off your head; "Then she'll pluck out all your feathers so you're bald 'n pink,
And scoop out all your insides and leave ya lyin' in the sink;
"And then comes the worst part" he said not bluffing,
"She'll spread your cheeks and pack your rear with stuffing."
Well, the rest of his words were too grim to repeat,
I sat on the stoop like a winged piece of meat,
And decided on the spot that to avoid being cooked,
I'd have to lay low and remain overlooked;
I began a new diet of nuts and granola,
High-roughage salads, juice and diet cola;
And as they ate pastries, chocolates and crepes,
I stayed in my room doing Jane Fonda tapes;
I maintained my weight of two pounds and a half,
And tried not to notice when the bigger birds laughed;
But 'twas I who was laughing, under my breath,
As they chomped and they chewed, ever closer to death;
And sure enough when Black November rolled around,
I was the last turkey left in the entire compound. So now I'm a pet in the farmer's wife's lap;
I haven't a worry, so I eat and I nap;
She held me today, while sewing and humming, And smiled at me and said: "Christmas is coming..HAPPY THANKSGIVING Y'ALL!


THOUGHTS ON HOW TO OBSERVE THANKSGIVING
Count your blessings instead of your crosses;Count your gains instead of your losses.Count your joys instead of your woes;Count your friends instead of your foes.Count your smiles instead of your tears;Count your courage instead of your fears.Count your full years instead of your lean;Count your kind deeds instead of your mean.Count your health instead of your wealth;Count on God instead of yourself.
--Anonymous

Tuesday, November 20, 2007


TEN NEEDS OF A BOY

1. To climb a mountain and to look afar.
2. To sit around an embered campfire with good friends.
3. To test his strength and skill on his very own.
4. To be alone with his own thoughts and with his God.
5. To be able to reach out and find the hand of an understanding man ready and willing to help. 6. To have a code to live by, easily understood and fair.
7. A chance to play hard just for the fun of it … and to work hard for the thrill of it.
8. To have a chance to fail … and to know why.
9. To have and to be a good friend, and to have a chance to prove both.
10.To have a hero … and a vision to measure him by.

[Found tucked inside my brother, Richard’s, wallet after he died in July of 1999. Richard was a Scoutmaster for over 40 years and under his direction helped over 40 boys become Eagle Scouts.]





THANKSGIVING

'TWAS THE NIGHT OF THANKSGIVING

'TWAS THE NIGHT OF THANKSGIVING, BUT I JUST COULDN'T SLEEP

I TRIED COUNTING BACKWARDS, I TRIED COUNTING SHEEP.
THE LEFTOVERS BECKONED - THE DARK MEAT AND WHITE
BUT I FOUGHT THE TEMPTATION WITH ALL OF MY MIGHT.

TOSSING AND TURNING WITH ANTICIPATION
THE THOUGHT OF A SNACK BECAME INFATUATION.
SO, I RACED TO THE KITCHEN, FLUNG OPEN THE DOOR
AND GAZED AT THE FRIDGE, FULL OF GOODIES GALORE.

I GOBBLED UP TURKEY AND BUTTERED POTATOES,
PICKLES AND CARROTS, BEANS AND TOMATOES.
I FELT MYSELF SWELLING SO PLUMP AND SO ROUND,

'TIL ALL OF A SUDDEN, I ROSE OFF THE GROUND.


WITH A MOUTHFUL OF PUDDING AND A HANDFUL OF PIE.

I CRASHED THROUGH THE CEILING, FLOATING INTO THE SKY,
BUT, I MANAGED TO YELL AS I SOARED PAST THE TREES ...
HAPPY EATING TO ALL - PASS THE CRANBERRIES, PLEASE.

MAY YOUR STUFFING BE TASTY, MAY YOUR TURKEY BE PLUMP.
YOUR POTATOES 'N GRAVY HAVE NARY A LUMP,
MAY YOUR YAMS BE DELICIOUS MAY YOUR PIES TAKE THE PRIZE,
MAY YOUR THANKSGIVING DINNER STAY OFF OF YOUR THIGHS.


HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!!!


Turkey Poem

BLACK NOVEMBER

When I was a young turkey, new to the coop,
My big brother Mike took me out on the stoop,
Then he sat me down, and he spoke real slow,
And he told me there was something that I had to know;
His look and his tone I will always remember,
When he told me of the horrors of ... Black November.
"Come about August, now listen to me,
Each day you'll get six meals instead of just three,
And soon you'll be thick, where once you were thin,
And you'll grow a big rubbery thing under your chin;
And then one morning, when you're warm in your bed,
In'll burst the farmer's wife, and hack off your head;
Then she'll pluck out all your feathers so you're bald 'n pink,
And scoop out all your insides and leave ya lyin' in the sink;
And then comes the worst part" he said not bluffing,
"She'll spread your cheeks and pack your rear with stuffing."
Well, the rest of his words were too grim to repeat,
I sat on the stoop like a winged piece of meat,
And decided on the spot that to avoid being cooked,
I'd have to lay low and remain overlooked;
I began a new diet of nuts and granola,
High-roughage salads, juice and diet cola;
And as they ate pastries, chocolates and crepes,
I stayed in my room doing Jane Fonda tapes;
I maintained my weight of two pounds and a half,
And tried not to notice when the bigger birds laughed;
But 'twas I who was laughing, under my breath,
As they chomped and they chewed, ever closer to death;
And sure enough when Black November rolled around,
I was the last turkey left in the entire compound.
So now I'm a pet in the farmer's wife's lap;
I haven't a worry, so I eat and I nap;
She held me today, while sewing and humming,
And smiled at me and said:
"Christmas is coming."
HAPPY THANKSGIVING Y'ALL!

Sunday, November 18, 2007

WHAT ARE GRANDMAS?

~Grandmas are moms with lots of frosting.~Author Unknown
~What a bargain grandchildren are! I give them my loosechange, and they give me a million dollars' worth of pleasure.~Gene Perret
~ Grandmothers are just "antique" little girls.~Author Unknown
~ Perfect love sometimes does not come until the first grandchild.~Welsh Proverb~
~Never have children, only grandchildren.~Gore Vidal
~ Becoming a grandmother is wonderful. One moment you're just a mother.The next you are all-wise and prehistoric.~Pam Brown
~ Grandchildren don't stay young forever, which is good becauseGranddaddies have only so many horsy rides in them.~Gene Perret
~ Grandmother always made you feel she had been waiting to see just you all day and now the day was complete.~ Marcy DeMaree
~ Grandmas never run out of hugs or cookies.~Author unknown
~ Grandmothers hold our tiny hands for just a little while,but our hearts forever. Author Unknown
~ If I had known how wonderful it would be to have grandchildren, I'd have had them first.~Lois Wyse
~ My grandkids believe I'm the oldest thing in the world. And after two or three hours with them, I believe it, too.~Gene Perret
~ If becoming a grandmother was only a matter of choice, I should advise every one of you straight away to become one.There is no fun for old people like it!~Hannah Whithall Smith
~ It's such a grand thing to be a mother of a mother, that's why the world calls her grandmother.~Author Unknown
~ Grandchildren are God's way of compensating us for growing old.~Mary H. Waldrip
~ You do not really understand something unless you can explain it to your grandmother. ~Proverb
~ An hour with your grandchildren can make you feel young again. Anything longer than that, and you start to age quickly.~Gene Perret
~ The best baby-sitters, of course, are the baby's grandparents.You feel completely comfortable entrusting your baby to them for long periods, which is why most grandparents flee to Florida .~Dave Barry
~ I wish I had the energy that my grandchildren have, if only for self-defense.~Gene Perret
~ Grandmother-grandchild relationships are simple.Grandmas are short on criticism and long on love.~Author Unknown
~ Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.~Alex Haley
~ Grandmother - a wonderful mother with lots of practice.~Author Unknown
~ A grandparent is old on the outside but young on the inside.~Author Unknown
~ One of the most powerful handclasps is that of a new grandbaby around the finger of a grandfather.~Joy Hargrove
~ It's amazing how grandparents seem so young once you become one.~Author Unknown
~ If your baby is "beautiful and perfect, never cries or fusses, sleeps on schedule and burps on demand, an angel all the time," you're the grandma.~Teresa Bloomingdale
~ Grandparents are similar to a piece of string - handy to have around and easily wrapped around the fingers of their grandchildren.~Author Unknown
~ What is it about grandparents that is so lovely? I'd like to say that grandparents are God's gifts to children. And if they can but see, hear and feel what these people have to give, they can mature at a faster rate.~Bill Cosby
~ Grandchildren don't make a man feel old; it's the knowledge that he's married to a grandmother.~G. Norman =========================================================

WHAT IS A GRANDPARENT

(Taken from papers written by a class of 8-year-olds)

Grandparents are a lady and a man who have no little children of her own. They like other people's.
A grandfather is a man grandmother.

Grandparents don't have to do anything except be there when we come to see them. They are so old they shouldn't play hard or run. It is good if they drive us to the store and have lots of quarters for us. When they take us for walks, they slow down past things like pretty leaves and caterpillars. They show us and talk to us about the color of the flowers and also Why we shouldn't step on "cracks." They don't say, "Hurry up."

Usually grandmothers are fat, but not too fat to tie your shoes. They wear glasses and funny underwear. They can take their teeth and gums out. Grandparents don't have to be smart. They have to answer questions like "Why isn't God married?" and "How come dogs chase cats?". When they read to us, they don't skip. They don't mind if we ask for the same story over again.

Everybody should try to have a grandmother, especially if you don't have television, because they are the only grown ups who like to spend time with us. They know we should have snack-time before bedtime and they say prayers with us every time, and kiss us even when we've acted bad.

A six year old was asked where his Grandma lived. ''Oh,'' he said, “She lives at the airport, and when we want her we just go get her. Then when we’re done having her visit, we take her back to the airport.”'

Saturday, November 17, 2007

WHEN THE KIDS WERE CELEBRATING MY 70TH BIRTHDAY

When the kids were celebrating my 70th birthday, this summer, at The Shack family bonfire, they presented me with these … [my remarks in italics] Tom read them to me while everyone laughed, chiding me.

CAROLE'S 11 LIFE LESSONS AFTER 70 YEARS

1. No email should go unforwarded. info with family and friends.
[Are they trying to tell me I forward too much email … to too many people …too often. Well, it is true; I do like to share all my good

2. Every good recipe starts with a stick of butter. [Are they accusing me of cooking with too much saturated fat? Who ever heard of making a good cookie without butter? Butter adds pleasure to our dining.]

3. Writing a book is easy, it only takes 30 years. [Are they making fun of me for writing about raccoons for over 30 years? Am I crazy? Does that show dedication … or what? Like The Little Engine That Could …’I thought I could, I thought I could, and I did persevere and write my books … and publish them..]

4. A movie made, is a movie worth watching. [Are they trying to tell me that I do not use much discrepancy when choosing movies … that I’ll watch anything … as long as it is a movie? No way! I choose my movies very carefully. Just check out my Netfix lists … you’ll see.]

5. A taco IS a sandwich. [I told them a taco was a sandwich but they didn’t believe me. Now they know. We found it in a crossword puzzle but it is too late for me to get credit for my answer in that game we were playing.]

6. If someone thinks it is worth saying, I think it is worth saying twice. [Are they saying I repeat myself? Oh, now REALLY, family ...Is that so bad?]

7. Everyone should have a servant named Larry. [
I know I love my Larry. He is devoted to me.]

8. A pool is not a luxury it is a necessity.
[It sure was in the stifling Georgia summer. Thank God, we had one in our backyard.]

9. Bras are over rated. [
Can’t say that enough! Uncomfortable as hell.]

10. If they have a pulse, they are worth talking to. [
Are they trying to imply that I’ll talk to anyone … anywhere … anytime? Well, I guess I do have to admit to being guilty of that. So what? I like people!]

11. Need a parking spot at Christmas? Pray to St. Anthony [That’s my advice. He always comes through for me. Has for years!]

TouchÃ

My friend Dave Woodbury sent this to me.


A college student challenged a senior citizen saying it was impossible for their generation to understand his. "You grew up in a different world," the student said. "Today we have television, jet planes, space travel, nuclear energy, computers..."

Taking advantage of a pause in the student's litany, the geezer said, "You're right. We didn't have those things when we were young; so we invented them! What are you doing for the next generation?"

THE 100 FAVORITE NOVELS OF LIBRARIANS

THE 100 FAVORITE NOVELS OF LIBRARIANS
Based on a survey conducted by Brodart Co., September, 1998 - March, 1999

* CABs Read
** CABs Seen Movie Only

1. Pride and Prejudice*
Austen
2. To Kill a Mockingbird*
Lee
3. Jane Eyre*
Bronte
4. Gone with the Wind*
Mitchell
5. Lord of the Rings
Tolkien
6. The Catcher in the Rye*
Salinger
7. Little Women *
Alcott
8. A Prayer of Owen Meany*
Irving
9. The Stand
King
10. The Great Gatsby *
Fitzgerald
11. Mists of Avalon
Bradley
12. David Copperfield *
Dickens
13. Kristen Lavransdotter
Undset
14. Beloved *
Morrison
15. Age of Innocence
Wharton
16. The Shell Seekers *
Pilcher
17. Tess of the D'Urbervilles *
Hardy
18. The World According to Garp **
Irving [didn't finish]
19. Catch 22
Heller
20. The Clan of the Cave Bear *
Auel
21. The Horse Whisperer **
Evans
22. Pillars of the Earth
Follett
23. Prince of Tides *
Conroy
24. Possession
Byatt
25. Rebecca*
DuMaurier
26. Follow the River *
Thom
27. My Antonia *
Cather
28. The Old Man and the Sea **
Hemingway
29. The Scarlet Letter *
Hawthorne
30. Sophies Choice *
Styron
31. Snow Falling on Cedars *
Guterson
32. One Hundred Years of Solitude
Marquez
33. Name of the Rose
Eco
34. The Giver
Lowry
35. Cold Mountain *
Frazier
36. Cold Sassy Tree *
Burns
37. Atlas Shrugged
Rand
38. Bridge to Terebithia
Paterson
39. Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant *
Tyler
40. The Hobbit
Tolkien
41. Les Miserables **
Hugo
42. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Lewis
43. Wuthering Heights *
Bronte
44. A Tale of Two Cities **
Dickens
45. Huckelberry Finn **
Twain
46. Alice in Wonderland*
Carroll
47. The Wind in the Willows
Grahame
48. The Bean Trees
Kingsolving
49. Ben Hur **
Wallace
50. And Then There Were None **
Christie
51. The Secret Garden *
Burnett
52. Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry
Taylor
53. Busman's Honeymoon
Sayers
54. Schindler's List **
Keneally
55. Emma *
Austen
56. The Color Purple *
Walker
57. The Count of Monte Cristo **
Dumas
58. Charlotte's Web **
White
59. Anne of Green Gables **
Montgomery
60. The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood *
Wells
61. Lady Chatterly's Lover *
Lawrence
62. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn *
Smith
63. East of Eden *
Steinbeck
64. The Once and Future King
White
65. Enders Game
Card
66. The Fountainhead **
Rand
67. A Patchwork Planet *
Tyler
68. Gaudy Night
Sayers
69. Shogun *
Clavell
70. Grapes of Wrath *
Steinbeck
71. Handmaid's Tale
Atwood
72. Lonesome Dove **
McMurtry
73. Outlander
Gabaldon
74. Pigs in Heaven
Kingsolver
75. Slaughterhouse Five
Vonnegut
76. Jude the Obscure
Hardy
77. Time and Again *
Finney
78. Misery *
King
79. A Christmas Carol *
Dickens
80. The Accidental Tourist *
Tyler
81. Giants of the Earth
Rolvaag
82. Persuasion
Austen
83. Fried Green Tom8atoes *
Flagg
84. Tisha
Specht
85. The Thornbirds *
McCullough
86. Christy
Marshall
87. Lost Horizon
Hilton
88. The Little Prince
St. Exupery
89. Fahrenheight 451
Bradbury
90. For Whom the Bell Tolls *
Hemingway
91. Frankenstein
Shelley
92. Bleak House
Dickens
93. Boy's Life
McCammon
94. Chesapeake
Michener
95. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy
Adams
96. How Green Was My Valley**
Llewellyn
97. Howard's End **
Forster
98. I, Robot
Asimov
99. Of Mice and Men*
Steinbeck
100. A Passage to India
Forster

SUPERMAN


My daughter Annie sent this cute photo of my Grandson Connor on Halloween.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

THANK YOU, ANNIE

Thank you, Annie, for setting my blog up for me. I've been wanting to do this for a long time but didn't know where to start. You have given me the opportunity to express myself to others. Hopefully, I will have many visitors and I encourage them to add their thoughts to this. Be patient with me, as I certainly am an ameteur blogger ... but hoping to improve. With writing my Waddodle series, I don't have a tremendous amount of time, but will try to make time to do this, like I do for my reading, genealogy serches, etc. I'm looking forward to spending many enjoyable hours blogging. I love you, Annie, for your thoughtfulnes in taking time out of your tremendously busy schedule to accomodate your mother ... I love you, Annie, for just being you.

WHY MEN ARE NOT SECRETARIES

Husband's note on refrigerator for wife:
Someone from the Gyna Colleges called.
They said the Pabst beer is normal.
I didn't know you liked beer.