The Median Sib

Sunshine and Sweet Stuff (my granddaughters) along with their parents, came home from their beach vacation yesterday.  This afternoon, they came over to PawPaw’s to visit us for awhile.  At one point, Sunshine (3 years old) sat on my lap facing me.  She put her hands on either side of my face and smoothed my hair back a few times.  Then she moved her face close to mine and whispered,

“You look like a princess.”

Yes, that brought tears to my eyes.

On May 21, 1919 a baby boy was born to a young couple, Grady and Lillian, in a poor, small mill town in Georgia.  He would be the first of five sons.  They named him Charles Columbus - after his father, Grady Columbus.  Charles grew up with his brothers enjoying the life of a small town and eventually meeting and marrying his sweetheart, Ruth, from a neighboring mill town.  Charles and Ruth’s family grew to seven children - the perfect number they told everyone.  I was fortunate enough to be child #4.

If my father were alive, he’d be 87 today.  He died in 1986 at the age of 67.  Our family has undergone so many changes since his death.  There are grandchildren and great-grandchildren born that know him only through family stories.  Today - his birthday - I miss him a lot. 

This morning at church the sermon was on our residence and how earth is only our temporary residence.  Someday we’ll be in heaven which will be our eternal home.  At the fellowship dinner after church, the minister played a video by Diamond Rio, God Only Cries - it has tender lyrics if you want to follow the link and read them.  I like to think that someday I’ll see my father again in heaven.

What I remember most about my father is his enthusiasm for life.  He was always ready to get out and do things. He was a people person. He was also a loving father. Once when I was around 5 years old, I cut my foot outside in the yard.  I remember crying for my daddy.  To me he was the one who could make everything better.  Even when I was an adult, I’d visit my parents, and when I’d leave, he’d stand in the driveway waving until I was out of sight. 

I’ve written about Daddy before.  I wrote a poem about him once a few years after his death.  I’ve shared it here once before, but I want to share it again in honor of his birthday. 

To Daddy
Are you up there, Daddy?
Sitting up in heaven
Watching us here on earth?
Laughing at us, wondering about us,
Or crying?
Life is such a crazy hodgepodge
Happiness - sadness - exhilaration - depression
All put together
Are you there? Seeing . . . and caring?

I miss you
I miss telling you about my victories and defeats
You always were interested
And wanted to know more.

Where are you?
I don’t understand death
I remember dreaming about you several years ago
In my dream, we were at the Flea Market
I heard your voice, your laugh
I saw your face - you were alive
I want that dream again

Mother told me that when she was nine years old
And her father died
She prayed that she would dream of him
Because she knew then, and only then, she could see him.
I’m so much older than nine now
Yet I still want to dream of you
I want to experience again the peace of your unconditional love.

I remember one day I visited you - I was a parent myself then
I had the flu, and you tucked a blanket around me
Set me in front of the fire and cared for me
One brief evening so many years ago
And yet I remember - with longing.

Maybe you were the only person who was completely on my side
No judgments. No expectations. Just acceptace - and love.

When I was a little girl
You were the one I wanted to comfort me when I was hurt or sad
I was special. I was Cabbie.

You were the one who told us stories
Of growing up with four brothers
Your adventures skinny-dipping in the Yellow River
Your near-miss in the lightning storm with Uncle James.

We children would crowd around you
In your little office behind the house
“Tell us more,” we’d plead,
And you’d oblige.

One Friday in 1986, you were visiting us
And we were at the Grand ol’ Opry laughing together
The next Friday we were gathered around your grave.
Life changes forever too quickly
No time for a final “I love you”
Or a smile, or a good-bye.

I want to drive up in your driveway again
And see you waiting for me
“There’s my Cabbie,” you’d say
And I would be a little girl once more
Safe, protected . . . in the arms of fatherly love.

(written in February 1993)

It’s a SIX SALUTE SATURDAY, and here are the SIX SALUTES to good posts from some blogs on my blogroll.

TMS Salute #1 is for Jane at Cozy Reader.  She has this post about her recent trip to the Everglades.  I cried when I read it.  God bless her and her family.

TMS Salute #2 is for Blame Bush!  In a post referencing the plan to send National Guard troops to help secure our borders, he offers this tidbit:

With most of our troops already torturing people in Iraq and Afghanistan, and thousands more watching Blacks drown in New Orleans, they worry that a prolonged deployment to Albuquerque might be stretching our military too thin -

You really need to read the entire post to get the ideas. . .

TMS Salute #3 is for The Education Wonks which always has the latest in news pertaining to education.  This post highlights just one of many absurdities that can be found in schools.

TMS Salute #4 is for Utenzi Blog where David has got some BEE-Utiful photos.  I am so envious of his talent!  He also gets my sympathy because the post after the beautiful photos includes a photo of his arm in the grips of my dreaded enemy - POISON IVY! I empathize with you!

TMS Salute #5 is for Dr. Sanity - my favorite online doctor.  Here’s a cartoon that should help anyone who enjoys being a chocolate-munching couch potato occasionally.

TMS Salute # 6 is for One Man Bandwidth and this post about Japan which provides a contrast to the United States’ stand on illegal immigration.

Note:  Okay, I lied.  This is going to be a SEVEN SALUTE SATURDAY.  I just read The Peace Moonbeam Chronicles and HAD to have a TMS Salute #7 for Peace Moonbeam’s latest post.  It’s about Scooter and his little friend Jumpy and Alka-Seltzer.  Go read it - this will make sense then . . . maybe.

Here’s a photo you sure won’t see on the news.  I got this from Flopping Aces where you will find more photos that are too shocking for TV.

Hat Tip to Blue Star Chronicles.

U.S. Army Maj. Jeff Pugh helps Iraqi children put gravel on the new playground at the Al Shrooq Primary and Secondary School in Taji, Iraq, April 19, 2006. Pugh serves as a civil affairs officer with Company A, 490th Civil Affairs Battalion, attached to 7th Squadron, 10th Cavalry Regiment, 1st Brigade Combat Team, 4th Infantry Division. U.S. Army photo by Sgt. 1st Class Brent Hunt.

Just had a good laugh at Ruthlace where she has listed some police quotes.  You can click over there to see all of them.  Here are my two favorites:

“If you run, you’ll only go to jail tired.”

“You didn’t think we give pretty women tickets? You’re right, we don’t … Sign here.”

I enjoy photography, and I hope to get a new camera soon so I can take better photographs when I return to Alaska in September.  I’m going to take a photography class before then, too. As a matter of fact, while we’re Alaska, we will spend two days with a photography group in Denali.  Here are THIRTEEN of my favorite photos from the past year.

1. A photo I took last July in Alaska - it’s a sunrise with a dock in the foreground.

2.  Another Alaskan photo - this is of a flower I saw out on the tunda of Denali.

3. Yet another picture from Alaska - snow-capped mountains and clouds reflected on Eagle River.

4. Some forsythia blooming early this spring in PawPaw’s yard.  I like the way it shows up against the sky. I had to lie down on the ground and point the camera upwards to get this shot.

5. Some flowers on the land where PawPaw and I will build our house.

6.  These are roses PawPaw gave me for Valentine’s Day.

7.  This photo is of a rainbow that appeared for about five minutes during a hailstorm last month.  That was the day that the tornadoes did so much damage in north Nashville.  It hailed for awhile, then the sun shone through the clouds for a few minutes, and then the storm resumed.

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8.  The hail I picked up from my yard right before the rainbow (above) appeared.

9.  Sunset in the countryside outside Nashville.

10. Another shot of forsytia.  I like this one because of the graceful curve of the branches.

11. The absolute lights of my life!  Here are Sunshine and Sweet Stuff (my two granddaughters) last summer when I babysat them for a week.  A great action shot, I think.

12. Flowers again - an unusual looking one from our land.  They’re called “Sweet Betsy”.

13.  One last flower photo.  It’s not in focus very well - but when I get my new camera soon, I should be able to take much better photos.  I like the delicate blooms of this wildflower.

A couple summers ago I commuted back and forth to MTSU each day to take some classes.  I looked for books on CD to make the drive more enjoyable.  One of the books I enjoyed was The DaVinci Code.  It was a good read - a little long and tedious at times, but enjoyable.  It made my commute a tad more interesting for a few days.  I plan to see the movie - in a few weeks when the theaters won’t be so crowded.

So there are people who are protesting the movie.  It is FICTION.  Have these protestors checked out the latest X-rated movies or the ones that are so full of gratuitous violence that anyone who hasn’t been totally desensitized to death and destruction can hardly even watch them. Or maybe the ones that glorify satanism?  I can think of quite a few other movies that are more deserving of protest.

The DaVinci Code is based on a theory I’ve heard numerous times throughout the years - that Jesus married Mary Magdalene.  It doesn’t put the Catholic Church in a very favorable light since its premise is that the Church went to great lengths to re-write history.

One of the great aspects of the Christian faith is that it is open to questioning.  What good is a belief if you can’t question it and explore it and look at it from all sides?

Thank God we’re living in a country where people can discuss and debate religious beliefs - where literature and thoughts and speech are not controlled - where writers and filmmakers and songwriters and the average citizen on the street can discuss and question without fear of reprisal.  Can you imagine the killings and beheadings that would be going on if the movie were about Mohammad (RoPMA)?

It’s a movie.  It’s fiction.  Get over it.

Others posting on The DaVinci Code: Reflections of the Times, Freeman Hunt, The Age of Reason, Ramblings of a GOP Soccer Mom, Both Hands, Low Earth Orbit, Verum Serum, Cacciaguida, Movie Marketing Madness, Letters in Bottles

There’s a news story about a Tennessee man who confessed to killing Lance Cpl. Suzanne Collins 21 years ago,  He confessed, but for the past two years he’s claimed he is innocent and that DNA tests will exonerate him.

According to one report, he repeatedly raped the young woman with a wooden pole and then impaled her on it.  While he’s been in prison with three meals a day, a warm bed and an opportunity to live for the past 21 years, his victim has been dead - after experiencing a brutal and heartless death at his hands.  He is challenging his death sentence by saying that execution by lethal injection is not humane.  Hmmm.  Some people have an endless supply of audacity.  So predictable that now he is suddenly concerned about humane treatment.  Maybe someone should impale HIM on a wooden pole and let him see what inhumane really is.

And now it seems that the governor of Tennessee has given him a reprieve - to allow time for DNA tests.  I guess after 21 year, another few weeks won’t make any difference. 

And in a related news story, we read about two gang members scheduled for execution in Texas who are appealing their execution on the grounds that lethal injection is cruel and inhumane.

Their victims were two teenage girls who had taken a shortcut while trying to get home from a friend’s house and happened upon this group of teen-aged beer-drinking gang members who had been initiating a new member into their gang. They gang-raped the girls for more than an hour, and then kicked and beat them before strangling them to death.  Again, I think we can forego the lethal injection and let them experience being gang-raped, kicked, beaten and strangled to death. 

There will be those who say that we should not kill in order to teach people not to kill.  No, the purpose of the death penalty is not to teach people not to kill.  Maybe if the death penalty were actually used effectively, there would be a few killers who would be afraid to commit murder.  However, we have the death penalty so that scum such as those are no longer taking up oxygen and space on earth.  

This could be the solution to the Illegal Immigration issue.  I received this via email today, and as usual when things are forwarded, there’s no telling if it’s true or not.  But whether or not it’s true is irrelevant.  It’s a darn good idea.  What do you think? 

I have a friend who is president of his homeowner’s association in Washington D.C. They are having a terrible problem with trash on the side of the road that is around his association’s homes.The reason according to Wallace (my friend) is, there is being built just next to them, six new homes…..big ones! Wallace said the trash is coming from the Mexican work crews working at the construction sites. (McDonald Bags, Burger King trash, etc). He has pleaded with the site supervisors and the general contractor to no avail, called the City,County, the Police and got no help.

 So………………guess what some people in his community did?  They organized about twenty folks, named themselves The “Inner Neighborhood Services” to go out at lunch time and “police” the trash themselves.

It is what they did while picking up the trash that is HILARIOUS!!!!!!!!  They got some navy blue baseball caps and had the initials “INS” in gold put on the caps. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist, however, to understand what they hoped people would think it means.

Well the day after their first pick up detail, with them wearing their caps and some carrying cameras; 46 out of 68 of the construction workers did not show up for work the next morning!!!!!!!!….  and haven’t come back yet!!!!! It has been ten days. 

Now the General Contractor, I understand is madder than hell, but can’t say anything publicly, because he could be busted for hiring “illegal aliens”.  Wallace and his bunch can’t be accused of impersonating INS folks, because they have it on their home owner association records the vote to form the new committee within their association, plus they informed the INS about what they were doing in advance, and the INS said basically according to Wallace…………..”Have at it”!

Since I recently had to pick up trash left by nearby Hispanic workers, I could identify with the frustration of the real or imagined homeowners.

Hat tip to RC for a little levity amidst all the uproar about illegal immigrants.

Vinnie at My Vast Right Wing Conspiracy also has an idea for solving the illegal immigration problem.

Update: Check out this latest post on the illegal immigration issue at Blame Bush!

Others posting on illegal immigration: Pursuing Holiness, Hot Air, Captain’s Quarters, A Lady’s Ruminations, The Violence Worker

**This was a production of The Coalition Against Illegal Immigration (CAII). If you would like to participate, please go to the above link to learn more. Afterwards, email the coalition and let me know at what level you would like to participate.

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Posting had been light lately.  It’s the end of the school year, and I’m going crazy with all the testing I’m doing.  I’m helping first, second, third, fourth and fifth grade teachers with their end-of-the-year DRA testing (Developmental Reading Assessment).  Additionally, I publish our school literary magazine which contains the children’s writing.  It’s a worthwhile project, but it sure took a lot of time to put together the ten-page issue that will be sent home with the kids today.  My next project, in addition to continuing the testing, is to get my summer reading newsletter ready by the first of next week.  It’ll be posted in the sidebar here when it’s finished.

But then, after May 26th, summer break will be here, and I should have plenty of time to do whatever I need to do.  I’ll be posting often again.

One of the questions on some of the reading tests is: What do you like best about reading?  Here are a few of the children’sreplies:

It gets you smart.

I like learning cool facts in books.

Reading gives me something to do.

It’s fun and it gives me more knowledge.

It’s very fun because you learn a lot of things.

It helps your brain.

Because I read to my dad a lot and it makes me feel happy.

I like reading quietly to myself or to my rabbit.

When you read a book it gets your mind on what’s about to happen.

It makes you smarter and it’s fun.

It like to see the  pictures.  It makes me more smart.

You learn stuff and can write a report on it.

And I agree: Reading is fun, you learn stuff, it makes you smarter, and it takes you into the world of what’s about to happen in the story.  I’m not so sure about writing a report, though.

“The world’s greatest fool is the person who waits for his ship to come in when he didn’t send one out.”

~unknown~

Our world is full of these fools - people who expect to receive free what others must toil for: illegal aliens, healthy welfare recipients, to name two.

Kristin Armstrong recently wrote for Glamour magazine about what she wishes she had known about marriage. Here are some exerpts. You can follow the link in the title below to read the full article.

“What I wish I had known about marriage”

The greatest conspiracy in modern history is not Watergate or the shooting of JFK; it’s something far more ingrained and insidious in the way it distorts the truth. The conspiracy is marriage. . . .

Perhaps we are all guilty of holding on too tightly to our own Cinderella stories, thinking that the glass slipper of the perfect marriage will conform to us uniquely. . . .

Here is the truth as I see it: Marriage has the potential to erode the very fiber of your identity. If you aren’t careful, it can tempt you to become a “yes woman” for the sake of salvaging your romantic dream. It can lure you into a pattern of pleasing that will turn you into someone you’ll hardly recognize and probably won’t like. . . .

The incredible disappearing woman

Ten years ago . . . . I had bought my first house . . . .  I had adopted a dog named Jake . . . . drove a cute little green Miata that I paid for in full. I was career-minded and single-minded. I was also headstrong and naive; I treasured my self-sufficiency so much that I scoffed at women who gave up their jobs, stayed home to take care of children or relied on men for anything.

Then I fell in love. I met Lance Armstrong. . . . Soon I was joyfully sporting an engagement ring with a hefty rock the size of my dilated pupil in a darkroom. I was so enamored with my new stature as part of a couple that I paid more attention to my left hand than to readying my heart for the journey ahead. I quit my job, rented out my house, gave my dog to an old boyfriend, sold my car and moved to France so Lance could reenter the world of professional cycling. We got married and promptly had three children—a son and then twin daughters—who were breast-fed, toted between countries and utterly adored by their devoted, full-time, stay-at-home mommy. (So much for my scoffing.). . .

If you ask me today what I truly love, I can easily tell you I love God, my family, my friends, fireworks displays, a good red wine, staying up late with a mystery novel, a sweaty run, painting abstract art, indulging my organizational compulsions, laughing until no sound comes out and taking my time. If you had asked me when I was married what I loved, I would have automatically told you the things that I loved about my husband. . . . Making him happy became my happy.

So this once-devout Catholic stopped going to church because it was inconvenient. . . . I quit reading late into the night because the light was bothersome to a tired athlete who needed sleep. I put all the energy and skills that made me a good manager and account executive into errands, planning and mothering. But the beauty of a wife is not found in those things. The beauty of a wife is in her being, not in her doing. During those years I perfected my doing and neglected my being. I remember the day that revelation first hit me: I made a joke to Lance about being opinionated, and he looked at me, sincerely confused: “You?”

Getting back the real me

If I were to do things over again, I wouldn’t have thrown myself so irrevocably into my new life. I would have guarded the things that made me feel like me —the places, the friends —and above all I would have spoken up about my needs. Instead, I will leave you with a lesson about how a woman can hold on to the bright, hard flame of who she is.

If your husband asks what you think, tell him. If you have a preference, voice it. If you have a question, ask it. If you want to cry, bawl. If you need help, raise your hand and jump up and down. I spent five years juggling kids, travel, cooking, smoothing. I never once said that I couldn’t do it on my own, or that I was just plain tired. I became a prisoner to my own inability to say uncle when life squeezed me too hard. The warden was pride, and I remained in maximum security.

The time may come when you realize that the only way to restore the meaning to your marriage is to get back the real you. It requires warrior-size courage to take a stand against the miscommunication, deception and emotional distance that breed in the shadows of inauthenticity. You will have to boldly step up to the line and speak from your heart. You will have to own your words (spoken and unspoken), your actions (done and undone) and the consequences of both. . . .

[I hope my daughters] will bring to their marriages the greatest gift of all: a unique and unshakable sense of self.

Kristin Armstrong is a freelance writer and contributing editor for Runner’s World magazine.

My mother has a blog - Ruthlace - and today she has a post about Mother’s Day.  Amid all the praise of mothers, she writes that:

Is there any one of us who will not agree that in addition to the many joys of motherhood and the endless rewards, motherhood is a four letter word called “work” as well as the four letter word we call “Love.”

I can hear the “AMEN!” resounding from all the mothers who are reading this.  She continues to talk about her feelings about her own mother - known as Mama Baird to us grandchildren:

I was in my early fifties when my mother died at age 88. Even though I had a husband and seven children, I will never forget the sense of loneliness and loss I felt to realize my mother was no longer in my world.

I later wrote a ballad in her memory:

Mother has put this ballad to music, and it’s a beautiful song. Here are the lyrics.

Today Is The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

1. My mother grew old. . . had lines etched in her face
Worked hard all her life. . . with uncommon grace
She lived by the Bible. . . Each day and each mile
She taught me her secret. . . of life with a smile

Refrain:

She said. . . Today is the first day
Of the rest of your life.
Don’t borrow trouble
With yesterday’s strife.
Take time. . . smell the flowers
That’s worth living for
Then pick up each new day
And fill it with joy!

2. Widowed while young. . . Mama worked in the mill
Washed on a scrub-board. . . Brought wood up a hill
She sang as she labored. . . to stay out of debt
And taught me this lesson. . . I’ll never forget

3. One day I said, Mama,. . . Your life has been hard
You’ve buried two babies. . . Out in the church yard
You’ve known all the heartache of struggling for bread,
She smiled through her tears and these words she said:

She said. . . Today is the first day
Of the rest of your life.
Don’t borrow trouble
With yesterday’s strife.
Take time. . . smell the flowers
That’s worth living for
Then pick up each new day
And fill it with joy!

4. Her old fashioned tea cakes. . . We ate the last crumb
Her old fashioned flowers. . . She had a green thumb.
She lived by the Bible. . . each day and each mile
She taught me her secret. . . of life with a smile!

My daughter gave me my Mother’s Day gift last night. It’s a keychain - a ridiculously expensive designer keychain that looks like a miniature wallet that opens up to hold tiny pictures. My daughter has had one just like it for awhile and I’ve admired it many times. I’ll put photos of Sweet Stuff and Sunshine in it.  It was a perfect gift!

I wasn’t as creative with my gift to my mother. I gave her a Keurig coffee maker exactly like mine. When she got it Tuesday she told me that she had just broken her old coffee maker the day before. So YEA for good timing!

I’ve read that more phone calls are made on Mother’s Day than any other day of the year.  I think that’s indicative of how strong the ties are between mothers and their children.  It’s a unique and strong bond.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there.

Thursday Thirteen - Thirteen Modern Conveniences I Love

(1) Cell phones - they make life so much simpler.  No need to leave phone numbers of where I’ll be or get the number of where someone else will be.  I just call their cell number - and the call goes right to them wherever they are.

(2) TiVo -I just didn’t realize what I was missing until I got it a few months ago.  Only $5 a month and worth every penny!

(3) Television - It has its bad aspects, but with good judgments, it can be fun and beneficial.

(4) Radio - I only listen to it in my car, but it sure makes the trip to and from work each day more enjoyable.

(5) GPS System (I don’t have one, but my daughter does, and I love driving her car and seeing the progress of the car on the little GPS map)

(6) Computers - Word-Processing, spreadsheets - I can’t believe I used to use typewriters all the time - with correction tape or fluid.  It’s so much simpler now to write.

(7) Email - So convenient and allows people to keep in touch more easily.

(8) My car - I’ve had a convertible for the past six years, and I love it.  There’s just nothing like the wind in my hair on a warm spring day.  It is a feeling of freedom.

(9) Flush toilets - When I think of how people had to live prior to the invention of flush toilets . . . .nahhh don’t want to think about it. 

(10) Internet shopping - Except for groceries I don’t go shopping very often.  It’s so much simpler to order whatever I need online.  And eBay is a great way to buy and sell things.

(11) Voice mail/answering machines - no worries about not being there to receive an important phone call.

(12) My Keurig coffee maker - The single cup thing is wonderful.  I can make a single cup of coffee or chamomile tea or vanilla decaf coffee - or whatever K-cup I happen to want at the time.  One of my better investments.

(13) Showers with lots of hot water.  Really, there’s not much better than a warm shower at the end of a long day.

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

Elliot is still in the running, and that is just bizarre.  He’s awful, and yet Randy, Paula and even Simon week after week act like he’s God’s gift to music.  I don’t understand it.  He’s got a good voice - not outstanding and certainly not unique.  His voice is the classic night club singer or karaoke singer - maybe a soloist at church or at weddings or such.  But an American Idol?  No way.

Last night I did something I have never done before.  I actually voted.  I kept dialing until I had voted four times for Catherine because I figured she was the underdog after the judges criticized her so much, and I was afraid Elliot had enough loyally deaf fans to sneak past her.  It never even dawned on me that more people would vote for Elliot than for Chris.  Chris is so far beyond Elliot in talent.  He has a unique sound whereas Elliot is completely forgetable.

Oh well.  I guess it doesn’t matter.  SURELY there is no way Elliot will win.  Surely there aren’t THAT many crazy people in America.  I think tonight’s results pretty much sealed the deal for Taylor.

Today, May 9th, is my baby brother’s birthday.  His name is David - and even his name has always been special to me - like the person.  I found this picture of me holding him when he was about a year and a half old.

And look at this next one.  Isn’t that the sweetest face in the world?  He got the reddish hair and freckles from my mother’s (of Ruthlace) side of the family.

Shortly after PawPaw and I got married in 1969, David came over and helped PawPaw paint a cabinet.  He definitely thinks he’s cool in that photo.

David grew up and married his high school sweetheart, Vicki, and they’re the parents of three gorgeous and smart girls.  He’s a wonderful father, runs his own business, is a hard worker, and he’s the most honest and good-hearted person I know. 

Ok, I can’t help it. One more photo.  This is one of my favorite photos.  It shows my father, along with Beth (of Blue Star Chronicles), Debi (holding the doll), and David - the baby of the family.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAVID!  I LOVE YOU.