Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Dread
Monday, October 29, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
This caught my attention.
http://www.israelnationalnews.com/News/News.aspx/123984
"This was probably the first time since the destruction of the Temple [1,937 years ago] that the Priestly Blessing was delivered on our holiest site."
(Jerusalem)—It is believed that for the first time since the destruction of the Second Temple in Jerusalem, the Priestly Blessing (Numbers 6:24-26) was recited there. According to a report in Arutz Sheva, a group of 25 Jews paid a visit to the Temple Mount to commemorate the 842nd anniversary of Maimonides's visit to the Temple Mount.
Said Rabbi Chaim Richman: "This was probably the first time since the destruction of the Temple [1,937 years ago] that the Priestly Blessing was delivered on our holiest site. At times like these, when there is talk of giving away our precious places, and when despair is sometimes in the air, events of this nature serve to remind us that God has not forgotten about us, and that He still has big plans for both us and the Holy Temple, and that the Temple will yet become the focal point of the world once again."
Friday, October 19, 2007
Half way there
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Goodbyes Twice
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
My Treat
Monday, October 15, 2007
Amusement
Friday, October 12, 2007
Flight School
Here is some early morning humor!
My ex-wife started taking flying lessons about the time our divorce started and she got her license shortly before our divorce was final, later that same year.
Yesterday afternoon, she narrowly escaped injury in the aircraft she was piloting when she was forced to make an emergency landing in Southern Tennessee because of bad weather. Thank God our kids were with me at the Beach House this weekend.
The NTSB issued a preliminary report, citing pilot error: Judy was flying a single engine aircraft in IFR (instrument flight rating) conditions while only having obtained a VFR (visual flight rating) rating.
The absence of a post-crash fire was likely due to insufficient fuel on board. No one on the ground was injured.
Photographs were taken at the scene show the extent of damage to her aircraft.
Julie said it best!
My sister Julie wrote these words to explain the excitement of our brother coming home. Our memories of him are different. I do NOT even remember some of the things she has written about, but I did get a good laugh out of them. I wonder if Grandpa Glenn were still alive, what he would say about that bb gun. Yikes! The rest of this entry is hers, from her blog at Loneprairie.net.
Today is Jerry day.
When I was little, my brother once hid hot sauce in an ice cream cone and gave it to me.
He once put a plastic jack-o-lantern in my bedroom window, lit it up, put a hat on it, and told me a scary story about an evil pumpkin that killed kids. All right before bed, when I went to my room and found an evil, glowing pumpkin head in my window.
He once hid in the hay loft and shot at the cattle with a BB gun, making grandpa Neidlinger swear up a storm out in the pasture, trying to herd the ever-scattering animals, not aware of why they kept scattering.
Using parts of things he disassembled, he rigged up a loudspeaker system outside of his room on the second floor of the house, and would announce things across the back yard. Things like "time for supper!"
He joined in playing "tag" one night where we all were running around the yard and throwing firecrackers at each other.
He took me on a trip to the mountains in Wyoming where we and some of his friends rode horse and camped out up there for a week.
It took him almost ten years to finish remodeling his tiny house in Nebraska because he was such a perfectionist. He had a sheet for a front window curtain for a long time, and during one visit there, he and I pretended to "shoot" and "stab" and beat each other up in front of the sheet so that, during the night, from the street, our shadows performed a bizarre shadow play for the neighbors.
A few years before he moved to Australia, he whipped into the yard to recreate his youthful habit of spinning his car in circles at the end of our driveway, but instead lost control and smashed into the deck on the side of the house. I was in the, uh, bathroom on the other side of that wall and it was not a pleasant moment.
Tonight he flies in to Bismarck, and this weekend, my sisters and their families are coming up. It's going to be a lot of fun. It's been a long, long time since we've all been together. I can't wait.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Senior Moment
This is a true account recorded in the Police Log of Sarasota, Florida... .
An elderly Florida lady did her shopping and, upon returning to her car, found four males in the act of leaving with her vehicle. She dropped her shopping bags and drew her handgun, proceeding to scream at the top of her voice, "I have a gun, and I know how to use it! Get out of the car!"
The four men didn't wait for a second invitation. They got out and ran like mad. The lady, somewhat shaken, then proceeded to load her shopping bags into the back of the car and got into the driver's seat. She was so shaken that she could not get her key into the ignition. She tried and tried, and then it dawned on her why...For the same reason she did not understand why there was a football, a Frisbee and two 12 packs in the front seat...
A few minutes later, she found her own car parked four or five spaces farther down.
She loaded her bags into the car and drove to the police station to report her mistake. The sergeant to whom she told the story couldn't stop laughing.
He pointed to the other end of the counter, where four pale men were reporting a car jacking by a mad, elderly woman described as white, less than five feet tall, glasses, curly white hair, and carrying a large handgun.
No charges were filed.
MORAL OF THE STORY?
If you're going to have a Senior Moment, make it memorable
Monday, October 08, 2007
11 Years ago
Today was the official day of her birth, but we are NOT going to celebrate it until the 19th. She brought cupcakes to school for her treats. I guess they were a hit. This was photo of her was taken today in her classroom. The other photo is from the hospital when she was 2 days old. She was already looking like a little pumpkin.
Tessa is sitting on the couch looking at her baby book and wondering why I saved and wrote what I did. Thank goodness I did, as I am sure if I tried to write something now, my memory would NOT be able to recall anything right. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TESSA, you were the best birthday present I had that year! Till next time...
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Continued for yesterday
Saturday, October 06, 2007
October 6, 2007
I am sure that John really dreaded this day. I had hinted that I wanted to do yard work as it was probably going to be the last chance we would have. The next two weekends are spent busy with family activities. A long awaited visit from my brother and Tessa's big moment. (I can not wait till this is past me!) Tessa is very happy with the banner that Julie made for her. She was amazed that all the colors were used like she asked.
It is always much easier to shop when the little people stay at home. John and I were able to pick out clothes with out the constant "Come here!" I think you all know what I mean, especially if you have ever been in the store with Tessa.
I can now sit here and breath a sigh of relief because the yard work is done. John dug up the butterfly plant as it was just to aggressive where I had put it. He found a cocoon stuck to the side of the house and I hope to get a photo here of it. We are all getting ready to watch another Sci-Fi Thriller. What can I say, we are hooked on these rather cheesy saturday movies! Are you going to be watching it to night Juls, or did you have to set the DVR for later enjoyment!! Till next time...
Friday, October 05, 2007
October 5, 2007
Hi Mom, I know I did not get to talk to you today when you called. I was in the middle of another service call with the cable guy. I really hope that is the last time that I have to see one of those guys for a very long time.
My day went really well, actually I just have to say it was a great day. It was full of laughter, being amazed by coworkers and the silliness that sometimes comes out when you least expect it. I was asked out to lunch with some of the administrators to the Panda Buffet. Tessa was so jealous when she heard that.
I finally pulled out that cross stitch project I have been working on for 2 years. I just want to get it DONE! I just wish my eyes could not get so tired while trying to see the little squares. Brenna, you may get this stocking before you are old and grey. John had to put in a LONG day again. I am just hoping he will not have to go in on Sunday. How are all of you doing? Time to close and get some sleep. YEAH!!! Till next time...
Thursday, October 04, 2007
I am Crystal Meth you may know me as 'P'
This was written by a young girl who was in jail for drug charges, and was addicted to crystal meth [P] . She wrote this while in jail. As you will soon read, she fully grasped the horrors of the drug, as she tells in this simple, yet profound poem. She was released from jail, but true to her story, the drug owned her.
My Name is: " P "
I destroy homes, I tear families apart,
take your children, and that's just the start.
I'm more costly than diamonds, more precious than gold,
The sorrow I bring is a sight to behold.
If you need me, remember! I'm easily found,
I live all around you - in schools and in town.
I live with the rich; I live with the poor,
I live down the street, and maybe next door.
I'm made in a lab, but not like you think,
I can be made under the kitchen sink.
In your child's closet, and even in the woods,
If this scares you to death, well it certainly should.
I have many names, but there's one you know best,
I'm sure you've heard of me, my name is crystal meth.
My power is awesome; try me you'll see,
But if you do, you may never break free.
Just try me once and I might let you go,
But try me twice, and I'll own your soul.
When I possess you, you'll steal and you'll lie,
You do what you have to -- just to get high.
The crimes you'll commit for my narcotic charms
Will be worth the pleasure you'll feel in your arms, (your lungs, and your nose).
You'll lie to your mother; you'll steal from your dad,
When you see their tears, you should feel sad.
But you'll forget your morals and how you were raised,
I'll be your conscience, I'll teach you my ways.
I take kids from parents, and parents from kids,
I turn people from God, and separate friends.
I'll take everything from you, your looks and your pride,
I'll be with you always -- right by your side.
You'll give up everything - your family, your home,
Your friends, your money, then you'll be alone.
I'll take and take, till you have nothing more to give,
When I'm finished with you, you'll be lucky to live.
If you try me be warned - this is no game,
If given the chance, I'll drive you insane.
I'll ravish your body, I'll control your mind,
I'll own you completely, your soul will be mine.
The nightmares I'll give you while lying in bed,
The voices you'll hear, from inside your head.
The sweats, the shakes, the visions you'll see,
I want you to know, these are all gifts from me.
But then it's too late, and you'll know in your heart,
That you are mine, and we shall not part.
You'll regret that you tried me, they always do,
But you came to me, not I to you.
You knew this would happen, many times you were told,
But you challenged my power, and chose to be bold.
You could have said no, and just walked away,
If you could live that day over, now what would you say?
I'll be your master, you will be my slave,
I'll even go with you, when you go to your grave.
Now that you have met me, what will you do?
Will you try me or not? It's all up to you.
I can bring you more misery than words can tell,
Come take my hand, let me lead you to hell.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
A Woman's Poem
Mom, you are not going to like this little poem someone sent to me in my email. I had to smile when I read it!
He didn't like the casserole
And he didn't like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard...
Not like his mother used to make.
I didn't perk the coffee right
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do
I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue.
Then I turned around and smacked the shit out of him...
Like his mother used to do.?