Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
SMALL TOWN AMERICA ON MEMORIAL DAY!!
GOD BLESS AMERICA!! AND I WANT TO THANK ALL OF OUR VETERANS WHO SERVED THIS WONDERFUL COUNTRY OF OURS..YOU WILL NEVER BE FORGOTTEN.Living in '"Small Town" America is a incredible place that I feel very fortunate to be part of. This little town of ours puts their entire heart and soul into our Holidays each year. They display a beautiful American flag for each of our veterans that have been placed to rest in our cemetery...Somewhere around 325 flags for this years remembrance plus a smaller flag is also placed on each grave site.
AMERICA...WHAT A WONDERFUL COUNTRY!!
Friday, May 26, 2006
RAIN, RAIN, AND MORE RAIN!!!
We have had so much rain this week that I haven't been able to spend much time out in my little garden. I am trying to make sure it has sprinklers set in just the right places so hoses won't have to be moved around while we are gone. But it's so muddy out there that I can't do much. But the weeds have sure taken advantage of the situation and have put on as much growth as this wet weather will allow. If I can time it just right to get out between rain storms to do some weed pulling, I know they will pull out easily. I have discovered that it is to painful to try to bend over to pull weeds, but it's easier to use my knee pads and get down on their level!! So I don't want to do this chore when I will be "up to my knees" in mud. Timing is everything!!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Please join me in remembering a great icon of the entertainment community.
The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly.
He was 71.
Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin.
Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch.
The grave site was piled high with flours.
Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded..
Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes.
Despite being a little flaky at times he still was a crusty old man and was considered a roll model for millions.
Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough, and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
If this made you smile for even a brief second, please rise to the occasion and take time to pass it on and share that smile with someone else who kneads it!
Have a Great Holiday Weekend everyone!!!
The Pillsbury Doughboy died yesterday of a yeast infection and trauma complications from repeated pokes in the belly.
He was 71.
Doughboy was buried in a lightly greased coffin.
Dozens of celebrities turned out to pay their respects, including Mrs. Butterworth, Hungry Jack, the California Raisins, Betty Crocker, the Hostess Twinkies, and Captain Crunch.
The grave site was piled high with flours.
Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy and lovingly described Doughboy as a man who never knew how much he was kneaded..
Doughboy rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a very smart cookie, wasting much of his dough on half-baked schemes.
Despite being a little flaky at times he still was a crusty old man and was considered a roll model for millions.
Doughboy is survived by his wife Play Dough, two children, John Dough, and Jane Dough, plus they had one in the oven. He is also survived by his elderly father, Pop Tart. The funeral was held at 3:50 for about 20 minutes.
If this made you smile for even a brief second, please rise to the occasion and take time to pass it on and share that smile with someone else who kneads it!
Have a Great Holiday Weekend everyone!!!
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
HUMOR FOR WEDNESDAY
Two elderly women were out driving in a large car, both could barely see over the dashboard. As they were cruising along, they came to an intersection. The stoplight was red, but they went on through.
The woman in the passenger seat thought to herself, "I must be losing it. I could have sworn we just went through a red light."
After a few more minutes, they came to another intersection and the light was red again. Again, they went right through the red light.
The woman in the passenger seat was almost sure that the light had been red but was really concerned that she was losing it.
She was getting nervous. At the next intersection, sure enough, the light was red and they went on through.
So she turned to the other woman and said, "Mildred, do you know that we just ran through three red lights in a row." "You could have killed us both!"
Mildred turned to her and said, "Crap, am I driving?"
The woman in the passenger seat thought to herself, "I must be losing it. I could have sworn we just went through a red light."
After a few more minutes, they came to another intersection and the light was red again. Again, they went right through the red light.
The woman in the passenger seat was almost sure that the light had been red but was really concerned that she was losing it.
She was getting nervous. At the next intersection, sure enough, the light was red and they went on through.
So she turned to the other woman and said, "Mildred, do you know that we just ran through three red lights in a row." "You could have killed us both!"
Mildred turned to her and said, "Crap, am I driving?"
I went to the doctor for my yearly physical. The nurse starts with certain basics.
"How much do you weigh?" she asks.
"115," I say, The nurse puts me on the scales. It turns out my weight is 170 pounds.
The nurse asks, "Your height?" "5 foot 8," I say.
The nurse checks and sees that I only measure 5' 4'.
She then takes my blood pressure and tells me it is very high.
"Of course it's high!" I scream, "When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!"
She put me on Prozac...
"How much do you weigh?" she asks.
"115," I say, The nurse puts me on the scales. It turns out my weight is 170 pounds.
The nurse asks, "Your height?" "5 foot 8," I say.
The nurse checks and sees that I only measure 5' 4'.
She then takes my blood pressure and tells me it is very high.
"Of course it's high!" I scream, "When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!"
She put me on Prozac...
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
TO BE A MOM
We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of starting a family. "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?" "It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. "I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations.
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been my child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation. I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighted against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a Cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it." I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift from God...That of being a Mother!
author unknown
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been my child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation. I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighted against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a Cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it." I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. This blessed gift from God...That of being a Mother!
author unknown
Thursday, May 18, 2006
TIME FOR SOME HUMOR!!!!
Dear Tide;
I am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I've used it all through my married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best. Now that I'm in my fifties, I find it even better! In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white blouse. My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to berate me about how clumsy I was and generally started becoming a pain in the neck.
One thing lead to another and somehow I ended up with lots of his blood on my white blouse. I tried to get the stain out using a bargain detergent but it just wouldn't come out. After a quick trip to the supermarket, I purchased a bottle of liquid Tide with beach alternative and, to my surprise and satisfaction, all the stains came out!!
In fact, the stains came out so well the detective who came by yesterday told me the DNA tests on my blouse were negative and then my attorney called and said I would no longer be considered a suspect in the disappearance of my husband.
What a relief!! Going through menopause is bad enough without being a murder suspect! I thank you once again, for having such a great product.
Well, gotta go. I have to write a letter to the Hefty Bag people.
I am writing to say what an excellent product you have! I've used it all through my married life, as my Mom always told me it was the best. Now that I'm in my fifties, I find it even better! In fact, about a month ago, I spilled some red wine on my new white blouse. My inconsiderate and uncaring husband started to berate me about how clumsy I was and generally started becoming a pain in the neck.
One thing lead to another and somehow I ended up with lots of his blood on my white blouse. I tried to get the stain out using a bargain detergent but it just wouldn't come out. After a quick trip to the supermarket, I purchased a bottle of liquid Tide with beach alternative and, to my surprise and satisfaction, all the stains came out!!
In fact, the stains came out so well the detective who came by yesterday told me the DNA tests on my blouse were negative and then my attorney called and said I would no longer be considered a suspect in the disappearance of my husband.
What a relief!! Going through menopause is bad enough without being a murder suspect! I thank you once again, for having such a great product.
Well, gotta go. I have to write a letter to the Hefty Bag people.
HUMOR TIME!!!!
I have dug through my emails that I have received over the years so I think I will post them in hopes that you too will get a chuckle out of them!!
DR. PHIL'S INNER PEACE
I am passing this on to you because it definitely worked for me and we all could use more calm in our lives. By following the simple advice I heard on a Dr. Phil show, I have finally found inner peace.
Dr. Phil proclaimed the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started. So I looked around my house to see things I started and hadn't finished; and, before leaving the house this morning I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of White Zinfandel, a bottle of Baileys, a bottle of Kahlua, a package of Oreos, the remainder of both Prozac and Valium prescriptions, the rest of the cheesecake, some saltines and a box of chocolates.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW FREAKING GOOD I FEEL!!!!!!
DR. PHIL'S INNER PEACE
I am passing this on to you because it definitely worked for me and we all could use more calm in our lives. By following the simple advice I heard on a Dr. Phil show, I have finally found inner peace.
Dr. Phil proclaimed the way to achieve inner peace is to finish all the things you have started. So I looked around my house to see things I started and hadn't finished; and, before leaving the house this morning I finished off a bottle of Merlot, a bottle of White Zinfandel, a bottle of Baileys, a bottle of Kahlua, a package of Oreos, the remainder of both Prozac and Valium prescriptions, the rest of the cheesecake, some saltines and a box of chocolates.
YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW FREAKING GOOD I FEEL!!!!!!
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Even though my Dear father passed away 14 years ago and alzheimer's has stolen my mom away from me, I still spend some time on their anniversary thinking about all the family when we were all together. And I thought this little piece is something that both mom and dad would appreciate.
Their marriage was good, their dreams focused.
Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers, tee shirt, and a hat and mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and a dish-towel in the other.
It was a time for fixing things...A curtain rod, the kitchen radio, the screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep.
It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, eating leftovers, renewing...I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.
But when my father died, and on that clear summer's night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't anymore.
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 life important, like people we know who are special...And so, we keep them close!
Good friends and family are like stars...You don't always see them, but you know they are always there. KEEP THEM CLOSE!
My heart still aches for you mom and dad...I love you...Happy Anniversary.
FLOWERS!
I took these pictures earlier this morning and after I had decided to post them in my blog I went back out to the Hosta flower bed and measured the size of this Hosta leaf. It is only mid May and already this leaf measures MORE THAN 12 INCHES IN LENGHT!!! I am sure it is going to be a magnificent plant this summer! Love and care does go a long ways..
Sunday, May 7, 2006
Monday, May 1, 2006
HONK IF YOU LOVE JESUS
Got a letter from Grandma the other day. She writes;
The other day I went up to a local Christian bookstore and say a "Honk If You Love Jesus" bumper sticker. I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I had just come from a thrilling Choir performance, followed by a thunderous Prayer meeting, so I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper.
Boy, am I glad I did! What an up-lifting experience that followed! I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is...And I didn't notice that the light had changed. It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus, because if he hadn't honked, I'd never have notice!
I found that lots of people loved Jesus! Why, while I was sitting there, the guy behind me started honking like crazy, and then he leaned out of his window and screamed, "For the love of God! Go! Go! Go! Jesus Christ, Go!"
What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus! Everyone started honking! I just leaned out of my window and started waving and smiling at all these loving people. I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love.
There must have been a man from Florida back there because I heard him yelling something about a "sunny beach." I saw another guy waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. I asked my teenage grandson, who was sitting in the back seat, what it meant, and he said that if was probably a Hawaiian good luck sign or something. Well, I've never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sigh back. My grandson burst out laughing. Why, even he was enjoying this religious experience!
A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me. I bet they wanted to pray, or ask me what Church I attended. But this is when I noticed the light had changed. So I waved to all my sisters and brothers grinning, and drove on through the intersection.
I noticed I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again and I felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared. So I slowed the car down, leaned out of the window, and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.
Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!!!
The other day I went up to a local Christian bookstore and say a "Honk If You Love Jesus" bumper sticker. I was feeling particularly sassy that day because I had just come from a thrilling Choir performance, followed by a thunderous Prayer meeting, so I bought the sticker and put it on my bumper.
Boy, am I glad I did! What an up-lifting experience that followed! I was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, just lost in thought about the Lord and how good He is...And I didn't notice that the light had changed. It is a good thing someone else loves Jesus, because if he hadn't honked, I'd never have notice!
I found that lots of people loved Jesus! Why, while I was sitting there, the guy behind me started honking like crazy, and then he leaned out of his window and screamed, "For the love of God! Go! Go! Go! Jesus Christ, Go!"
What an exuberant cheerleader he was for Jesus! Everyone started honking! I just leaned out of my window and started waving and smiling at all these loving people. I even honked my horn a few times to share in the love.
There must have been a man from Florida back there because I heard him yelling something about a "sunny beach." I saw another guy waving in a funny way with only his middle finger stuck up in the air. I asked my teenage grandson, who was sitting in the back seat, what it meant, and he said that if was probably a Hawaiian good luck sign or something. Well, I've never met anyone from Hawaii, so I leaned out the window and gave him the good luck sigh back. My grandson burst out laughing. Why, even he was enjoying this religious experience!
A couple of the people were so caught up in the joy of the moment that they got out of their cars and started walking towards me. I bet they wanted to pray, or ask me what Church I attended. But this is when I noticed the light had changed. So I waved to all my sisters and brothers grinning, and drove on through the intersection.
I noticed I was the only car that got through the intersection before the light changed again and I felt kind of sad that I had to leave them after all the love we had shared. So I slowed the car down, leaned out of the window, and gave them all the Hawaiian good luck sign one last time as I drove away.
Praise the Lord for such wonderful folks!!!
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