Who writes this stuff?
- I am happily married to an amazing military man who spent 9 years enlisted and is now an Officer in the US Army. We have two amazing boys who are not so little any more! They still infuse every moment of every day with creativity and energy, and make my life an adventure. I was educated at home, and am now teaching our children - second generation homeschoolers! I try every day to become more like Jesus Christ, and to love like HE does. If you want you can try and catch me at firstname.lastname@example.org
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Saturday, January 24, 2009
"Where God's finger points, there God's hand will make the way."
Friday, January 23, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Once upon a time, on a farm in Virginia , there was a little red hen who scratched about the barnyard until she uncovered quite a few grains of wheat. She called all of her neighbors together and said, If we plant this wheat, we shall have bread to eat. Who will help me plant it?
Not I, said the cow. Not I, said the duck. Not I, said the pig. Not I, said the goose. Then I will do it by myself, said the little red hen, and so she did.
The wheat grew very tall and ripened into golden grain. Who will help me reap my wheat? asked the little red hen.
Not I, said the duck. Out of my classification, said the pig. I'd lose my seniority, said the cow. I'd lose my unemployment compensation, said the goose. Then I will do it by myself, said the little red hen, and so she did.
At last it came time to bake the bread. Who will help me bake the bread? asked the little red hen.
That would be overtime for me, said the cow. I'd lose my welfare benefits, said the duck. I'm a dropout and never learned how, said the pig. If I'm to be the only helper, thats discrimination, said the goose.
Then I will do it by myself, said the little red hen. She baked five loaves and held them up for all of her neighbors to see. They wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share.
Excess profits! cried the cow. (Nancy Pelosi) Capitalist leech! screamed the duck. (Barbara Boxer) I demand equal rights! yelled the goose. (Jesse Jackson) The pig just grunted in disdain. (Ted Kennedy) And they all painted Unfair! picket signs and marched around and around the little red hen, shouting obscenities.
Then the farmer (Obama) came. He said to the little red hen, You must not be so greedy. But I worked hard and earned the bread, said the little red hen.
Exactly, said Barack the farmer. That is what makes our free enterprise system so wonderful. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much
as he wants. But under our modern government regulations, the productive workers must divide the fruits of their labor with those who are lazy and idle.
And they all lived happily ever after, including the little red hen, who smiled and clucked, I am grateful, for now I truly understand. But her neighbors became quite disappointed in her. She never again baked bread because she joined the party and got her bread free. And all the Democrats smiled. Fairness had been established. Individual initiative had died, but nobody noticed; perhaps no one cared… so long as there was free bread that the rich were paying for.
Bill Clinton is getting $12 million for his memoirs. Hillary got $8 million for hers. Thats $20 million for the memories from two people, who for eight years, repeatedly testified, under oath, that they couldn't remember anything.
IS THIS A GREAT BARNYARD OR WHAT?
Monday, January 19, 2009
My typing fingers have been used by Andy tonight. He has to turn in his first project for his creative writing class tomorrow. The assignment was, describe a bumper sticker that you like, and the vehicle, driver, etc that the bumper sticker belong with. Here is his final project. Please, enjoy!
I was eating lunch with my family a couple of weeks ago when I noticed a bumper sticker that said, “Dip me in honey mustard and throw me to the lesbians”. It couldn’t help but catch my eye, and I have been thinking about it ever since – What does it mean? I didn’t see the driver of the vehicle, so that part is entirely my imagination, but I could easily imagine a computer geek thinking something that random was funny, simply for it’s randomness.
The vehicle is a blue 1996 Ford Explorer, with grey interior. The paint is bleached by the sun, and starting to look a little whitewashed. The upholstery is terribly worn and faded with many tears where the foam shows through. Under the accelerator pedal the carpet is worn through all the way to the metal. There are a few various pings in the front windshield from rocks and other flying debris, and the right headlight is completely busted out. The left rear tire is almost completely bald with the thread showing through.
When you open the door several different smells waft out to greet you. The strongest, and thus the first you notice, is the smell of old cigarettes. Only slightly weaker, but certainly less revolting is the smell of “new car”, that comes conveniently packaged and shaped like a tree and hanging from the rear view mirror. Slightly subtler underlying the other two is the slightly musty scent of mildew, caused by the minor leak that occurs in the back hatch when it rains at just the right angle.
Upon a closer look it is easy to see, at minimum, 8 paper, plastic and Styrofoam cups from various fast food establishments, several of which appear to have flat soda and cold coffee still in them. Sitting on the front passenger seat is a very official looking document: professional, clean, completely out of place in this “hunk of junk”.
The driver is a young white male, approximately 23 years old. He has 30 pounds of extra weight sitting around his middle, and absolutely no intention of even pretending that he is going to go to the gym any time this year. His World of Warcraft t-shirt is well worn and has several stains, but it proclaims his passion to the world, so he wears it proudly. His unkempt hair is long and greasy, mirrored by his beard, and his odor resembles that of a man who has worked construction on a summer day with a deodorant that has worked past its time.
When I greet him, he asks, “Can I help you”, in a kingly way, as if I have entered his domain and he has to let me know that he is in charge here. His attitude emanates sarcasm, in a friendly sort of way, and he seems to be carrying on an internal conversation at all times. A humorous one, from what I can gather.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Saturday, January 17, 2009
My wonderful friend Carrie has given me a very sweet award. When she decided to share it with me and a few others, she described us as "wonderfully dedicated bloggers with lovely thoughts to share with the world." Isn't that just an inspiring way to start a day? It certainly made me feel appreciated and loved!
Friday, January 16, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
BARACK OBAMA: The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a change! The chicken wanted change!
JOHN MC CAIN: My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the road.
HILLARY CLINTON: When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure right from Day One that every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn't about me.
DICK CHENEY: Where's my gun?
COLIN POWELL: Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road.
BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with that chicken. What is your definition of chicken?
AL GORE: I invented the chicken.
JOHN KERRY: Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken's intentions. I am not for it now and will remain against it.
AL SHARPTON: Why are all the chickens white? We need some black chickens.
DR. PHIL: The problem we have here is that this chicken doesn't realize that he must first deal with the problem on this side of the road before it goes after the problem on the other side of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he's acting by not taking on his current problems before adding new problems.
OPRAH: Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I'm going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.
ANDERSON COOPER, CNN: We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed access to the other side of the road.
NANCY GRACE: That chicken crossed the road because he's guilty! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks.
PAT BUCHANAN: To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.
MARTHA STEWART: No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain
level. No little bird gave me any insider information.
DR SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.
ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die in the rain, alone.
GRANDPA: In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.
BARBARA WALTERS: Isn't that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart-warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting and went on to accomplish its lifelong dream of crossing the road.
ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
JOHN LENNON: Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace.
BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken 2008, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook. Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken 2008. This new platform is much more stable and will never crash or need to be rebooted.
ALBERT EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?
COLONEL SANDERS: Did I miss one?