I’m so sick of junk mail.  With all the identity theft warnings everywhere, I feel it’s necessary to shred anything that has my name on it.  So I can’t just toss it in the trash.  Junk mail is a royal pain in the you-know-what.  Once I work my way through all this crap, I SWEAR I will keep up with it regularly.  Surely I can manage that one little chore every few days.  Right now I just have piles and piles of it

A MAJOR HEX on all junk mail and comment spam people!

This morning I was watching PawPaw’s bird feeder.  Within a few minutes there was a black-capped chickadee, a goldfinch, a red-winged blackbird, a purple finch, a tufted titmouse, a bluejay, and a small blue bird (I can NEVER think of it’s name - not a blue bird, but something else).  I love looking at bird feeders.  I didn’t take any photos, but I did take some of the waterfall behind his house and some flowers.  I’ll post some later this afternoon.  Now I’m headed off for errands — got to get my car inspected and get a new tag, and then create a brochure for my townhouse.

I can’t find who said this, but it is worth sharing:

“We cannot bring prosperity by discouraging thrift.

We cannot help small men by tearing down big men.

We cannot help the poor by destroying the rich.

We cannot lift the wage earner by pulling down the wage payer.

We - governments or people - cannot keep out of trouble by spending more than we have.

We cannot further the brotherhood of man by inciting class hatred.

We cannot build character and courage by taking away initiative and independence.

We cannot help people permanently by doing for them what they could and should do for themselves.”

I’ve moved several times the past few years, and each time I’ve streamlined my “stuff” more.  This morning, I started straightening up/clearing out my storage room, and I’m amazed at how much JUNK and CLUTTER a single person can collect in a short amount of time.

I read somewhere that “stuff” can bog you down - keep you tied to your house, and it’s true.  Just the thought of having to go through everything to move again is overwhelming.  However, it also made me mad!  This is hereby my DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE from junk!

I have finished straightening my storage room.  It looks good - but the stuff is still there - just boxed neatly now. 

I WILL gain my freedom from stuff, though.  I WILL have the “for sale” sign in front of my townhouse by Friday.  I WILL get all the STUFF sorted and cleared out.  I WILL be free of it.

Yesterday I shared a quote by Sir Winston Churchill:

“An appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last!”

~Sir Winston Churchill~

American is becoming the world’s biggest appeaser.  Heaven forbid that we do or say anything that might possibly make anyone feel uncomfortable or offended.  In our striving to make everyone happy, we aren’t making anyone happy - even ourselves.

It makes me sad - and scared - to see and hear people claiming that anyone who believes that people should follow estabished laws for entering our country are racist, bigoted, and anti-immigration.  Placing negative labels on people is the best way to get attention away from the real issues.  No one wants to be considered racist and bigoted and against the very thing upon which our country was built. 

Even in church I hear people saying “But the illegal immigrants are just poor people coming here for a better life.  How can we deny them the opportunity to make a better life for themselves and their families?”  If so, then they should stop crossing the border in the dead of the night and getting ID’s, social security numbers and drivers licenses illegally.  Stop breaking in line - go back and do it legally.  We want you here if you can have the strength of character and perseverance to do it the right way. 

To borrow from a country song, “You’ve got to stand for something, or you’ll fall for anything.”  We’re falling for just about everything that people are willing to shout loud enough about and make a big enough scene about .  We don’t want to feel “uncomfortable” or be accused of not being “tolerant.”  We’ve reached the point of not being willing to take a stand for anything.  Everything is all right.  We’ll tolerate any and everything.  We don’t have the courage to say that some things are simply WRONG. 

Our country was founded by CHRISTIANS who came here for freedom of religion.  Recognizing our Christian heritage and celebrating it does NOT deny non-Christians their religion.  Rather, denying “In God We Trust” on our currency, in our history books and in our pledge is denying our own history.

Our country is directly threatened by radical Islam.  Fighting Islamic terrorists is honorable and necessary.  Mistakes made by .001% of our soldiers does not negate the wonderfully courageous efforts of 99.999% of them.  Spouting anti-war rhetoric does not negate the fact that our soldiers are dying every day to give U.S. citizens the right to protest and criticize their country and president.

Our country was founded on freedom based on law.  When we reward lawbreakers with privileges not given to law-abiders, we undermine the foundation of our country.

President Bush was fairly elected in both 2000 and 2004.  Certainly 2000 was close, but the law was followed and he was correctly chosen as our president.  To not give him the respect due the leader of the greatest nation on earth is unpatriotic and childish.  You can disagree with people without disrespecting them. President Bush deserves our respect based simply on the fact that he is our duly elected president.  Period.

So we will appease the illegal immigrants, we will appease the radical Muslims, we will appease the left-wing anti-war protestors, we will appease the history revisionists, and eventually we WILL be eaten by the crocodile of appeasement.  That crocodile is already well into his meal of USA a la Appeasement. 

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I was thinking about how we remember where we were and what we were doing when we hear momentous news.  I thought of the following occasions of national news:

On September 11, 2001, I had the radio on as I drove to school.  There was a news report of smoke billowing out of the World Trade Center.  I arrived at school and when I checked my mailbox in the office, there was a group of teachers around the television - and we watched as a second plane hit the World Trade Center.  I remember thinking “That’s no accident.” Obviously.  Our principal told us to keep the news to ourselves, and later we received email from our Director of Schools to let elementary students wait till they got home to talk about the situation with their parents.  We could answer questions matter-of-factly, but without sounding alarmed.  Junior high and high school teachers could discuss it with their students.  During every single break, teachers were huddled around the TV to learn more about what was going on.  At the time I was dating a National Guardsman, and I kept emailing him all morning for more news.  For the most part, the school day at my elementary school went on as usual from the students’ perspective.  I’ll always remember the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I learned more about what happened.  Some parents came to the school and picked up their children early.  I remember feeling a need to be with someone I loved when school was over.  But I was single, and the aforementioned guy I was dating wasn’t very emotionally available.  I called my son who was in college and talked with him briefly, I called my daughter who was busy with her 6-month old baby, and I think I called my mother, too.  Then I spent the rest of the evening alone.  It was a horrifying day.

On November 22, 1963 I was in a high school algebra class.  The intercom crackled on with a radio playing.  At first we laughed, thinking that someone in the office has hit the intercom button by mistake.  Soon, though, we heard what was being broadcast.  There was crying - and a few students became hysterical upon hearing the news that President John F. Kennedy had been shot.  I don’t recall much more of that day - other than being glued to the TV at home later that evening as we watched Lyndon Johnson take the oath of office, Jackie’s blood-stained dressed, and the replay of what had happened played over and over.

“An appeaser is one who feeds a crocodile, hoping it will eat him last!”

~Sir Winston Churchill~

 

“A man who trims himself to suit everybody will soon whittle himself away.”

~Charles Schwab~

(Hat tip to JTH)

Sunshine and Sweet Stuff (along with the rest of our little family) were all over at PawPaw’s last night for a fun time.  Our son, Scalawag, smoked some ribs.  His wife, Mia, made some potato salad and corn salad.  Our daughter, Stinkeroo, made some smoked salmon appetizers and her wonderful sweet tea.  Sweet Stuff and I made our famous apple pie for dessert.  It was just about the most perfect afternoon and evening I can imagine.  

At one point, Sunshine was sitting in PawPaw’s lap when there was a segment on TV showing a VERY elderly man.  Much to PawPaw’s chagrin, Sunshine pointed to the TV and exclaimed, “PAWPAW!”  Not once, but twice!  It will be a long time before he gets over it! 

After a couple days away from the computer, I checked and there were almost 50 spam comments that I had to delete.  It’s so @%$#! aggravating.  Gambling, drugs and sex - the big money-makers that apparently must resort to being a pain-in-the-butt for bloggers in order to get their sales pitch out.

Thank WordPress for the “Mark all as spam” button.  Wish it had a “Send a computer-blasting lightning zap to the spam originator” button.

When I first started working with Alicia last year, she was in the fourth grade and reading at a first grade level - on a good day.  I worked with her individually last year and in a small group this year.  I also placed her with a weekly individual reading tutor.  Today was the last day of school for this year.  When I returned to my room after running an errand to the first grade hall, I found a note on my desk from Alicia.  In one short note, she illustrated what is truly the best reward of teaching.  Earlier I had copied her note, but after getting home and after covering her real name (and yes - a rather sloppy job of covering her name), I scanned the note:

Last year she wouldn’t have been able to write that note.  Her handwriting is fairly neat and legible.  Sure, she still has a long way to go, but her progress is remarkable.  I can only hope that she will get the help she needs in middle school, too.   And, I am glad she was my “reading girl” this year.