Friday, September 30, 2011

a word to my commenters...

and they are legion  :)

Our prospective buyer just got too tired tonight
to seal the deal.

So again we wait - until tomorrow  :(


Please check back because although I may be
out of town until Wednesday, I should still
have access to a computer.



the waiting game

And still we wait.

Somewhere in a radius of 40 miles there is an 82 year old woman who has flown in from Arkansas who we know has money and she has chosen to torture us just short of waterboarding while she makes up her mind about buying our house.

We know she wants the house and she knows that we know it.

She is of course shrewd - because that's how she got her money in the first place - by being careful and not making hasty decisions.

But she has known from the beginning of the summer that she was going to buy our house.

I know she is waiting until the very last moment  - she flies back to Arkansas tomorrow.

I just know she is waiting until 4:30 this afternoon at which time her realtor will call our realtor and we will get her take-it-or leave-it offer.  Our only chance to sell this house without actually giving it away since the economy is so bad.

And so we wait...

Thursday, September 29, 2011

i get by with a little help from my friends - the beatles

What would you think if I sang out of tune,
Would you stand up and walk out on me.
Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song,
And I'll try not to sing out of key.
Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends,
Mmm, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends.

Do you need anybody?
I need sombody to love.
Could it be anybody?
I want somebody to love.

Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends
Mmm, gonna try with a little help from my friends
Ooh, I get high with a little help from my friends
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends,

with a little help from my friends

here's one by Robert Louis Stevenson...

and then I'm going to call it quits for tonight with some Beatle lyrics...

that's poetry too, isn't it?


How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue?
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!

Up in the air and over the wall
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and tress and cattle and all
Over the countryside-

Till I look down on the garden green
Down on the roof so brown-
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!


i love this one

Jabberwocky  by Lewis Carroll

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
 And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two!  And through and through
The vorpal blade wnet snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day!  Callooh!  Callay!
He chortled in his joy.

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

how about an anonymous poem...

from my big red book The Family Album of Favorite Poems
edited by P. Edward Ernest


A  Man  Of  Words\

A man of words and not of deeds,
Is like a garden full of weeds;
And when the weeds begin to grow,
It's like a garden full of snow;
And when the snow begins to fall,
It's like a bird upon the wall;
And when the bird away does fly,
It's like an eagle in the sky;
And when the sky begins to roar,
It's like a lion at the door;
And when the door begins to crack,
It's like a stick across your back;
And when your back begins to smart,
It's like a penknife in your heart;
And when your heart begins to bleed,
Your're dead, and dead, and dead indeed.

who can speak of poetry and not mention this one...

Trees  by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast.

A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain,
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

no poetry seminar is complete without this gem of a poem

Mag  by Robert Frost

I wish to God I never saw you, Mag
I wish you never quit your job and came along with me.
I wish we never bought a license and a white dress
For you to get married in the day we ran off to a minister
And told him we would love each other and take care of each other
Always and always long as the sun and the rain lasts anywhere.
Yes, I'm wishing now you lived somewhere away from here
And I was a bum on the bumpers a thousand miles away dead broke.
   ~I wish the kids had never come
   ~And rent and coal and clothes to pay for
   ~And a grocery man calling for cash,
   ~Every day cash for beans and prunes.
   ~I wish to God I never saw you , Mag.
   ~I wish to God the kids had never come.

on a lighter note...

The  People  Upstairs

The people upstairs all practice ballet.
Their living room is a bowling alley.
Their bedroom is full of conducted tours.
Their radio is louder than yours.
They celebrate weekends all the week.
When they take a shower, your ceilings leak.
They try to get their parties to mix
By supplying their guests with Pogo sticks,
and when their orgy at last abates,
They go to the bathroom on roller skates.
I might love the people upstairs wondrous
If instead of above us, they just lived under us.

                                             ~ Odgen Nash


Send  me  one  of  your  original  poems  in  the  comment  section

and  I'll  retype  it  on  my  blog.

( Please no longer than the Keats Sonnet)

as promised...

A Sonnet by John Keats:

O Solitude! If I Must With Thee Dwell

O Solitude! If I must with thee dwell,
Let it not be among the jumbled heap
Of murky buildings:  climb with me the steep,-
Nature's observatory - whence the dell,
In flowery slopes, its river's crystal swell,
May seem a span, its river's crystal swell,
May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep
'Mongst boughs pavillioned, where the deer's swift leap
Starles the wild bee from the foxglove bell.
But though I'll gladly trace these scenes with thee,
Yet the sweet converse of an innocent mind,
Whose words are images of thoughts refined,
Is my soul's pleasure; and it sure must be
Almost the highest bliss of human-kind,
when to thy haunts two kindred spirits flee.

Poetry Seminar

will continue after I get back from Walmart....

with a classic poem by John Keats

a little poem appropriate to my current mental state

The  Little  Man  Who  Wasn't  There

As I was going up the stair
I met a man who wasn't there
He wasn't there again today
I wish, I wish he'd stay away.

                    ~William Hughes Mearns


two poems by D.H. Lawrence

Good  Husbands  Make  Unhappy  Wives

Good husbands make unhappy wives
so do bad husbands, just as often;
but the unhappiness of a wife with a good husband
is much more devastating
than the unhappiness of a wife with a bad husband.


To  Women,  As  Far  As  I'm  Concerned

The feeling I don't have, I don't have.
The feelings I don't have, I won't say I have.
The feelings you say you have, you don't have.
The feelings you would like us both to have, we neither
     of us have.

The feelings people ought to have, they never have.
If people say they've got feelings, you may be pretty sure
    they haven't got them.

So if you want either of us to feel anything at all
you'd better abandon all idea of feelings altogether.


Please join me for an evening of poetry and hopefully discussion until 11pm CT

next: two poems by D.H. Lawrence (first read 'an evening of poetry'post)

please check the post before this first

An Evening of Poetry - Thursday, September 29th, 2011

Three of my favorite poems by Emily Dickinson


A word is dead
When it is said,
~~Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
~~That day.


For each ecstatic instant
We must an anguish pay
In keen and quivering ratio
To the ecstasy.

For each beloved hour
Sharp pittances of years,
Bitter contested farthings,
And coffers heaped with tears.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all.

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

another evening of poetry

If my blog seemed to jump the tracks last night, that's not true.  It is the blog administrator
who jumped the tracks.

This is the second summer we have had our house on the market and  well, you know, it' s
a buyer's market - and there just haven't been any.

There is, however, a very interested party who checked out our house for the third time today.
We really thought there would be an offer after waiting for so long.  And there is going to be
an offer - tomorrow. 

Now this blog administror is low on patience in the best of circumstances, but especially now since I
am 66 and really would like to know where I'm going to spend my few remaining years.

Last night in a desperate attempt to maintain my sanity (which is always in question),
I posted poetry -while I wait. I thought I would do that again tonight.  The difference will
be that tonight it will be planned - whereas last night it was frantic.

Now I'm fresh out of original poetry, but I've got a stack of books here by the compter from
which to choose.  If anyone is out there - anyone at all -  who enjoys poetry, or anyone who doesn't
like poetry but can offer sympathic and supportive thoughts, please stop and comment.

I welcome anyone to post in the comments their own favorite poems, and I would love comments
on the poetry I post and even discussion.

Move or not, I hope to get my blog back to normal - whatever that means - sometime.



a few observations about blogging

~Blogging can be fun.  Whether or not it turns out to be fun is up the the individual blogger.

~There are as many different kinds of blogs as there are bloggers. 

~Blogging started in 1989 in the form of online diaries, and took off from there, expanding to just about anything an individual wants to write.

~Some bloggers write consistantly providing daily posts, while others  go for several years without writing anything.

~There are blogs that never get past the title.

~Most people stockpile their posts for all eternity....

~A few - maybe only this blogger - delete their posts for no known reason.

~Blogging is like life itself - the new day brings the hope of starting over with fresh ideas and forgotten yesterdays.

on asking myself why i study spanish

When I ask myself why I study Spanish I always give myself the same answer.

Becuase I like it.

I really enjoy studying Spanish.

Even though I have been studying Spanish for a number of years now, the only thing that I can really say about that is that I am studying Spanish.

I refuse to even say one word of Spanish.

I never write one sentence of Spanish on a piece of paper.

However, I can read Spanish subtitles in movies to some degree.


I invested in the Rosetta Stone program for the computer.

I love Rosetta Stone.  For me it is not only educational but great fun.

I have numerous Spanish dictionaries, workbooks, etc.

I have a copy of people magazine in Spanish.

Whenever I see those laminated Sparks study sheets or other kinds of charts I buy them.

I have a Spanish Bible.

I could open a small bookstore and turn a good profit if I wanted to sell my Spanish stuff.


When I ask myself why I study Spanish I always give myself the same answer.

Becuase I like it.

I really enjoy studying Spanish.

and I read once that studying a language is good for the mind.

So I don't mind doing something that is good for the mind.

Sure, I may never be able to communicate with Spanish-speaking servers in a certain Indianapolis restaurant as I had once hoped I would be able to or I may never be able to run for president of Mexico - not that I have ever wanted to - but I like studying Spanish.

It's kinda like what Chis Gardner said in the movie The Pursuit of Happyness.  That he had begun to see that when Thomas Jefferson referred to 'the pursuit of happiness' in the Declaration of Independence, he meant that we most likely will never catch that elusive butterfly of happiness - but rather life is about pursuing happiness.

And that's what studying Spanish means to me.  I will never speak or write Spanish - although I can read it to some degree - but I will always enjoy and get great satisfaction out of studying it.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

and my favorite poem of all time

Today Is Very Boring

Today is very boring,
it's a very boring day,
there is nothing much to look at,
there is nothing much to say,
there's a peacock on my sneakers,
there's a penguin on my head,
there's a dormouse on my doorstep,
I am going back to bed.

Today is very boring,
it is boring through and through,
there is absolutely nothing
that I think I want to do,
I see giants riding rhinos,
and an ogre with a sword,
there's a dragon blowing smoke rings,
I am positively bored.

Today is very boring,
I can hardly help but yawn,
there's a flying saucer landing
in the middle of my lawn,
a volcano just erupted less than half a mile away,
and I think I felt an earthquake,
it's a very boring day.

                        ~Jack Prelutsky             

hey i'm on a roll now

I Want to Be Your Shoebox

by Catherine Bowman

I want to be your shoebox
I want to be your Fort Knox
I wnat to be your equinox

I wnat to be your paradox
I want to be your pair of socks
I want to be your paradise

I want to be your pack of lies
I want to be your snake eyes
I want to be your Mac with fries

I want to be your moonlit estuary
I want to be your day missing in Feburary
I want to be your floating dock dairy

I want to be your pocket handkerchief
I want to be your mischief
I want to be your slow pitch

I want to be your fable without a moral
Under a table of black elm I want to be your Indiana more!
Casserole. Your drum roll.  Your trompe l'oeil

I want to be your biscuits
I want to be your business
I wnat to be your beeswax

I want to be your milk money
I want to be your Texas Apiary Honey
I want to be your Texas. Honey

I want to be your cheap hotel
I wnat to be your lipstick by Chanel
I wnat to be your secret passage

All written in Braille.  I want to be
All the words you can't spell
I want to be your International

House of Pancakes.  I want to be your reel after reel
Of rough takes.  I want to be ryou Ouija board
I want to be you slum-lord.  Hell

I want to be your made-to-order smorgasbord
I want to be your autobahn
I want to be your Audubon

I want to be your Chinese bug radical
I want to be your brand-new set of radials
I want to be your old time radio

I want to be your pro and your con
I want to be your Sunday morning ritual
(Demons be gone!) Your constitutional

Your habitual-
I want to be your Tinkertoy
Man, I want to be your best boy

I want to be your chauffeur
I want to be your chauf-
feur, your shofar, I want to be your go for

Your go far, your offer, your counter-offer
your union coffer, your two by four
I want to be your out and in door

I want to be your song:  daily, nocturanl-
I want to be your nightingale
I want to be your dog's tail

                               ~from Open City

and now one of my best poems based on a true incident

i do not like bugs for they creep and they crawl

as for spiders i do not like them at all

when one comes to my house i do not say come and sit

but rather i drop a big book right on it

and now a poem from a real poet - emily dickinson

I took my power in my hand
And went against the world
'T was not so much as David had,
But I was twice as bold.

I aimed my pebble, but myself
Was all the one that fell.
Was it Goliath was too large,
Or only I too small?

i wrote this one about seven years ago or more

my way

id like to live in paris
have a flat along the seine
but ive already been there
and i shant go back again

id like to meet my favorite movie star
his name is johnny depp
but ill settle for watching neverland
ive seen it and ive wept

id like to have an orchestra
accompany me on rach 3
but its too hard so ill stay home
and listen to my cd

id like to be the president
of the us of a
but that aint gonna happen
boo hoo i never get my way

and now for a poem i didn't write


by Alice Cary
(1820 - 1871)

True worth is in being, not seeming -
In doing, each day that goes by,
Some little good - not in dreaming
Of great things to do by and by.
For whatever men say in their blindness,
And spite of the fancies of youth,
There's nothing so kingly as kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth.

We get back our mete as we measure -
We cannot do wrong and feel right,
Nor can we give pain and gain pleasure,
For justice avenges each slight.
The air for the wing of the sparrow,
The bush for the robin and wren,
But always the path that is narrow
And straight, for the children of men.

'Tis not in the pages of story
The heart of its ills to beguile,
Though he who makes courtship to glory
Gives all that he hath for her smile.
For when from her heights he has won her,
Alas! it is only to prove
That nothing's so sacred as honor,
And nothing so loyal as love!

We cannot make bargains for blisses,
Nor catch them like fishes in nets;
And sometimes the thing our life misses
Helps more than the thing which it gets.
For good lieth not in pursuing,
Nor gaining of great nor of small,
But just in the doing, and doing
As we would be done by, is all.

Through envy, through malice, through hating,
Against the world, early and late,
No jot of our courage abating -
Our part is to work and to wait.
And slight is the sting of his trouble
Whose winnings are less than his worth;
For he who is honest is noble,
Whatever his fortunes or birth.

truth on a wednesday evening

will we hear

what will they say

where will we be -  month from today

why do they keep on saying things

will they ever stop the things so mean

who was it we looked up to

was it the same one that will not do

what seems so right but still they say

why should we care lets let it lay

when things get tough we just go on

where weve been the same old song

who was it then we did admire

will he come back put out the fire

well i dont think so alls the same

when folks just want to play the game


three little things

In 1951, Howard Hawks gave us a classic science fiction movie - The Thing From Outer Space - better known as the first The Thing.

In 1982, John Carpenter gave us the second thing - also known as The Thing.

Now another director by the name Matthijs van Heijningen, jr. is presenting us with another
thing - The Thing (2011).  You ask who is Matthijs van Heijningen, jr.?  He is the son
of Matthijs van Heijningen - but that's an entirely different thing.

Before I give you my take on these three things, you may need to know something about the
background of The Thing.


Many years ago a spacecraft crashes into the Antarctica ice and scientists - most likely from
McMurdo Research Center - cut out a block of ice in which the thing is embedded and haul
it back to the research station where sooner or later it thaws out and terrorizes the scientists.
The thing is, this thing called The Thing can take on the form of any living being around it -
including dogs - so that no one really knows who is the thing.

That is pretty much it for the plot.


The Thing #1 is really good -  not particularly scary.  In fact the only thing I don't like about it
is that although the woman in the first thing is just as strong, brave and intelligent as the men -  she always ends up serving them the coffee.

The Thing #2 could be really good if the special effects were not so over the top.  You are left
gasping at the thing as it transforms into disgusting things, yet it leaves you disgusted rather
than satisfied.  The best thing about The Thing #2 is that Kurt Russell is the star and it has a
great ending.  But you'll just have to 'wait and see' to find out about that.

As for The Thing #3 - I would say from the trailer that it is shaping up to be nothing.  It appears
that its strong point is that the director has found more inventive gory ways to let the thing do its


I highly recommend The Thing #1 - my 10 year old granddaughter proclaimed it to be the 'best
movie' she had ever seen (but she says that about every movie we watch together.)

I recommend The Thing #2 with some reservations - I guess it would depend on how much  blood
and gore you can stand.

As for The Thing #3 - I won't be seeing it.  You see, I'm getting too old for that sort of thing.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

on not reading the newspaper

ducky - I am dedicating this post to you because:

you stand on the front line

you don't back down and only stop to reload

you don't run away like a frightened little girl like i do

but i intend to work on that

thanks, ducky


The Quotable Book Lover

~edited by Ben Jacobs & Helena Hjalmarsson


I bought this small but not really worth it book about seven years ago because
it fits in my purse and I would take it to a cafe called One World which I frequented
on Friday nights so I could listen to a jazz combo led by my piano teacher who
is an accomplished jazz pianist.  I would always order a decaf espresso and
pull out that book so that I wouldn't feel so self-conscious about being there


Still...the book yielded a couple of quotes worthy of mention:

'Just because the f***er's got a library card doesn't make him Yoda.'

                                                                      ~ Brad Pitt
                                                                       As Detective Mills
                                                                       in the movie Seven

and this one

'Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of the night.'

                                                         ~Attributed to P.J. O'Rourke


But the quote that inspired this post was by:

 Thomas all men are created equal Jefferson.

'The man who reads nothing at all is better educated than the man who reads nothing but


You see, I don't read newspapers  - not any, not ever.

For me, reading a newspaper is too confining.

One must sit there and hold up each side requiring the use of both hands - a primitive activity
really, like ironing.

I am a multi-tasker and reading a newspaper means that I can only do one thing at a time -
when I would rather be doing three.

The reason I don't read a newspaper has nothing to do with the fact that it seems boring and

It is just that I can't bear sitting there holding up something boring and stuffy that makes my
arms tired.


I do, however, need newspapers to spread on the patio when I spray paint.


About commenting on my post

I have recieved more help (from expert computer tech son-in-law Josh)


Try again and the problem should be fixed.


commenting on my blog








Suzan - It blows my mind to see a comment from a blogger who says they have been reading
my comments on another blog, yet I have never seen theirs.

This confirms to me what I have often suspected -  that there are commenters out there who do actually pay attention to others comments but don't feel the need to say anything in response.  I find this exciting and at the same time disconcerting - since it means that my 'ignored' comments are
not necessarily just that. (I hate being ignored.)  And it means that there are people out there
that are actually thinking.

To Cuss Or Not To Cuss - I like to cuss but find that in my personal life it is best to be
discriminating.  I intend to do both here - enough to keep the cussers coming back for more
yet not enough to keep the noncussers away.

Thanks, Suzan, for taking time to comment, and I assure you tomorrow's post will inclue at least one
for the cussers.  : - )


Monday, September 26, 2011

movie characters that i respect and admire

~ ripley - ya gotta love this woman with a heart and so brave she doesn't cut the aliens any slack

~ marge gunderson - pregnant sheriff who tromps through the snow after coldblooded killers

~ rose sayer - spinster missionary with guts to spare who literally charms the pants off charlie allnut

~ maria - her lover kills her brother and when chino kills her lover she unites the gang members

~ dorothy michaels - short guy in drag fools them all and gets the girl to boot

~ alma brown - classy broad who dares to tell hud ya coulda asked first

~ karin blixen - wins denys' love & the respect of the men but her heart is buried where lions lie

~ ada mcgrath - mute pianist loses a finger to enraged husband but lover whisks her away to happiness

~ alice - strong young woman wanders through a wonderful land but I woulda stayed there with jd

~ olive hoover - determined seven year old with quirky family learns that looks aren't the most important part of life


ripley - Sigourney Weaver in Aliens

marge gunderson - Frances McDormand in Fargo

rose sayer - Katharine Hepburn in The African Queen

maria - Natalie Wood in West Side Story

dorothy michaels - Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie

alma brown - Patricia Neal in Hud

karin blixen - Meryl Streep in Out of Africa

ada mcgrath - Holly Hunter in The Piano

alice - Mia Wasikowska in Alice in Wonderland

olive hoover - Abigail Breslin in Little Miss Sunshine


tomorrow's post

Stop by tomorrow for an incredible new post:

Characters From Movies That I Respect And Admire - and all of them just happen to be women

(and I promise there will be NO cuss words )

: )  (SEG)

our dog lady and the crazed golfer

This true story is for anyone who has loved a dog.

But I have written it especially for fellow blogger Truth 101 and his beloved blogger dog - Dudley the fat-ass Liberal Beagle - who both have put a smile on my face when I most needed that to happen.


My story begins, Truth and Dudley, when we got Lady at the animal shelter - she was a mutt and a runt - the best kind, they say.

This very special dog walked among us for sixteen years, and when she moved on she took with her a
sizeable piece of my heart.


We are located on a golf course, but rarely do the balls find their way into our backyard.

The day on which this story takes place -  however -  a stray golf ball did land in our yard and
Lady got it.

The golfer, my husband and I all tried to catch her but to no avail.

So finally the enraged golfer grabbed his twelve iron and went after Lady with a vengence.

Not being one to mince words when provoked, I said to the golfer, 'You hit my dog with that golf club
and I'll kill you.'

But, Truth and dear Dudley, he didn't and neither did I.

All's well that ends well, because the golfer finally got his ball back.


But the story doesn't end there, Dear Friends, for several years later as I was gazing out the
window - admiring the view on a fine summer's day - I spotted a golfer peeing on the tree just
beyond our property line.

You ask how I know he was peeing on the tree?  Although his back was turned to our house, I knew he wasn't just standing there examining the bark.

Furious that my rights to live a decent and pure life on the edge of the golf course had been invaded - and surely you both agree, dear Truth and Dudley - I called the pro shop and reported the offensive golfer - who had the audacity to pee on that
tree in broad daylight - not caring about my sixty-four year old sensitivity.  The woman in charge assured me that she would put a sign up to warn golfers in the future about their untoward peeing habits (surely all the time she was laughing her ass off.)


The bottom line is - Truth and Dudley - that I've always wondered if that crazed golfer (and really aren't they all) had returned to get his revenge.

I'll really never know for sure, will I?


Yes, Lady's gone now, but she lives on in fond memories such as these.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

comments on faith journey post

Silverfiddle - I am very happy to have your comments - anytime.

I didn't mean to give the impression that I think I am at the end
of the road in my Faith Journey.  If it were over, I might be like Bruce Willis
in The Sixth Sense.

Funny that you should mention 'moving' in your comment, since as I write this
a prospective buyer should be calling today to say if she is going settle on our
house.  At which time I really will be moving.  :=)


Gorges Smythe - And I am the merest of mortals.

Thanks so much for reading my Faith Journey post and taking time to comment.
I hope you will return again...and again.


Gorges Smythe (on Cheney/grandchildern post ) - As kids we used to try to get my mother to let us do what our
friends were going to do, and sometimes her response would be:  If your friend
was going to jump off of a cliff would you want to do that?

As an adult I have decided that what others do is not necessarily what I will do - even
when it comes to payback.


Z - It is when I have the doubts in my Faith Journey that I grow - in my life and with God -
and really the two are inseperable.

I do not believe that Faith is something that we 'get' and that is it.  Our Faith is not only
strengthened by our positive experiences in our relationship with God, but when we doubt
what He is doing in our life, and in my case - as I like to put it - when I get mad at Him.  He
treats me as the 'child' that I am  - to Him - and patiently shows me the Way.  I have never
regretted getting mad at God or doubting Him, for it is through those 'emotions' that I grow.
And get stronger.  And realize how Loving and Understanding, and really Great He is  - but
I will doubt Him and get mad at Him again - and then Love Him more, and grow even


Z - There was a program about 9/11 on PBS that I watched with my son-in-law - just before the 10th ann.  It focused on several pastors, priests and rabbis that had not especially lost their faith as a result of 9/11, but rather had experienced problems with doubt and hostility toward God - that he had betrayed them, and let them down.

We (son-in-law) discussed this and in the end both agreed that this was not entirely a bad thing - what they were feeling - but rather that they needed to work on discernment and finding their way back into His Grace.

The problem is, my son-in-law found out later that the program was really a rerun, and had been taped a couple of years after 9/11.  So that hopefully by the time we saw it they had worked out the problems.  If, in fact, the interviews had taken place just before the 10th ann. of 9/11, that would be a long time for them to question God - especially as members of the clergy.

So in my mind, the program really should not have aired at all.

Do you see what I mean?

my faith journey

This is my first post about my Faith Journey, so I want it to be a special one.


Of course my Faith Journey began at birth, but the awareness of it began about
twenty-three years ago when we moved to Central Illinois.

And I have to say that so far it's been quite a ride.

First believing and then doubting, then denial and then believing again - with a lot of complaining
in between the believing and doubting.

But that is what a faith journey is all about, isn't it.


Oswald Chambers wrote that God gives us a vision, then leads us down into the valley,
where -like a blacksmith - He puts us on the anvil and asks us to hold still while he
hammers us into the shape He requires so that we can fulfill our part of His Plan.


Funny thing is, I remember the vision, but I'm not sure if I'm headed for the valley or if I've
already been there - but I do know that I've never held still for any of it.  God has had
to work very hard to get me to be part of His Plan.

Still, I am willing to march into Hell for that Heavenly Cause and I know if I'll only be True
to This Glorious Quest that my Heart will lie Peaceful and Calm when I'm laid to my Rest...

and I think you've heard these words before.

(Credit goes to Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra)


In conclusion I'd just like to say that I'm grateful for every step of the way in my Journey
of Faith.


And I'd also like to say:

God  Bless  You,  God

Saturday, September 24, 2011

pictures of dick cheney's grandchildren

As I enter Krogers there is usually a small table on the right with a few discounted

And that's when I spotted it:  Dick Cheney's new book - at 40% off.

It was the last one so I knew I was 'meant' to buy it.


I couldn't wait to get home and show it to my Conservative - and getting worse all
the time - husband,  holding it up and saying defiantly:

'We were out of toilet paper so I got this.'


That night I picked it up - anxious to discover what I already knew, that Dick Cheney
is a mean, Darth Vader, waterboarding son-of-a-bitch.

But since I always turn to the picture section first, my eyes fell on the pictures of him
with his grandchildren.


Now we grandparents have a special bond and it's not about our grandchildren as such,
but of the PICTURES of our grandchildren.

And Dick Cheney's pictures of his grandchildren are to die for.


Right then I knew that I would never read the book, because I had seen the pictures of
him with his grandchildren.

Sure, I still think Dick Cheney is a mean, Darth Vader, waterboarding son-of-a-bitch.
That will never change.


But I've seen the pictures of him with his grandchildren -

and I can't break that special grandparents' bond.


pay 'back'

Why didn't someone tell me that Patience is a Virtue before it was too late?

Wait a minute - someone did.


My husband always stands by the computer while I am beating up the enter key when it doesn't
operate fast enough for me.

He says, 'Sue, be patient.   You are not a patient person.'

If I ask him to help me move furniture or heavy bins, and he says fine, later, or tomorrow, I wait for a few minutes and then do it myself.

Now my back is saying, 'Sue, Enough.'

Because I'm not patient enough to wait for someone to help me, I fear I have to live with the resulting
strained relations that my back and I are now experiencing.

Sure, my back tried to warn me, but I didn't heed the signs.

Now, there's no turning back.

The other day my husband pointed out someone we both know and said, 'Look, Rich is walking
funny, there must be something wrong with his back.'

Unless my back decides to forgive me and move on, I'm gonna be walking funny for the rest
of my life and wishing I had been a more patient person.


Friday, September 23, 2011

closed until 9am tomorrow

Due to the advanced age of the blog administrator, this blog operates on a daily

basis from 9am - 11pm.

troy davis

In my heart I have always been against the death penalty - until I see the devestation that the
family members suffer as victims of horrendous crimes.

I guess that puts me on the fence.

But now things have changed on the death penalty issue, and I find myself wondering:

What kind of people (the State of Georgia specifically) are willing to put a man to death
when there is even a chance that he may be innocent?


movin' on

Comments or not, I'm moving on to other subjects.

If anyone wants to comment on anything I say, please do.

that is if you can get past 'whatever' is screening the comments

my *$#&@* - up comment section

To anyone who has been unable to leave a comment on my blog - including me - I say if I can get this straightened out I will - but in the meantime I will continue to try to run this blog in the manner in which I  had originally intended.

although that is just not happening  :o(

Two subjects for discussion

I would like to have opinions on:

~doing away with reelection for President.  I believe that reelection distracts the President
to the point that it harms our country's welfare.  The current situation is a good example.
We are in dire need of the President's attention on many issues, yet the 2012 elections are
getting way too much coverage and are DISTRACTING the President to the point it is harmful.

I suggest (and I know this isn't an original idea) a one time only six year term.
This would require a Constitutional Ammendment - the sooner the better.

~doing away with the electoral college.  I read today on one of my plastic study sheets
(Sparks, maybe) that the American voters do not elect the president.  Of course, that is
common knowledge, but just looking at those words this afternoon were like I saw them for the first time.

That is ridiculous.

That is like saying that we cannot pray to God directly, but rather that we have to have an
intercessory.  Well, let me say right here and now that I pray to God - without any help - and I would
like to vote for my own President.

Let's stamp out the Electoral College.

Of course, I know others have differing opinions.  :=)

What do YOU think?


cube and beamish - thanks so much for responding so quickly to my new blog.

I am hoping that it will be the start of something positive, and that you will both
particiate in discussions.

( I plead computer ignorance and cannot access my own comments so until
I find out how to correct that I am using posts to answer comments.)


Mark - Thank you for checking out my new blog.

My belief is that gays are just that at birth; however, I'm sure that there are those who
embrace that lifestyle for 'kicks' or whatever you want to call it.


Z - Your comment did make it and thanks for making it.  I appreciate you checking out my new disfuctional blog.  :=)


Z - Thanks for the kind words of support - if  I ever needed them it's now!  : + ?


Speedy G - And vote in some new bums.  :=(     Thanks for your comment. 

I've been studying Spanish on my own (with the help of Rosetta Stone) for four years .

Now I'm going to add your blog as a study guide.  So thanks for that, too.


Rational - Thanks.  I hope you will return.


Amen to that, Brother Speedy

now you know

I'm bipolar.

Last April my doctor said, 'Sue, you're 66, so how would you like to see things as they really are instead of through the fog of medication?"

I said, 'Sure, why not.'

The experience of being off medication is like the line from Amazing Grace:

'I was blind but now I see."

And I'm doing just fine.

But sometimes I experience a little bit of what I call 'loss of control,' and thus the expletives on blogs, and other commments that might seem odd.


But when I start to doubt the wisdom of going without medication, I just remember this:

When I visit my daughter, she says, 'See ya later, Mom,' and leaves me in charge of her most treasured possessions - a four year old son, an overactive two year old daughter, and a five month old baby with health problems, including a feeding tube.

After that, my faith in myself is renewed.


So, if having me comment on your blog makes you uncomfortable, unhappy or whatever, then just delete those comments, for heaven's sake.  I've even heard that comments can be recognized and automatically deleted - and that's fine.

Frankly, I don't give a damn what you do.  But I'm not going away.


I like to compare being bipolar to being gay (not that there's anything wrong with it.)

You are born that way.  While growing up you know that you are different but can't always figure out why or how - then the real symptoms are exhibited and you have to deal with it.

There is no cure for either.   You are in it for the long haul.

Then you start to accept it and live with it.  Eventually you even learn to like yourself.


So, you are either with me or against me.  Get over it and let's get on with figuring out why this country is going to hell in a handbasket and start doing something about it.