DMZ...DMV...Whatever!

DMZ = Demilitarized Zone
DMV = Department of Motor Vehicles

One and the same, right?

Arab People Poll

Now here's an interesting little poll of the Arab people that sheds some surprising light (to the gullible, that is) on what the Arabs feel is at the root of most of their problems.

Happy Memorial Day

To those who gave their lives so that the rest of us can sleep safely...unaware,
thanks to you all. When I was in the 5th grade, we had to memorize the Gettysburg Address. If there is any other speech more worthy of fallen soldiers, I don't know it. In case you've forgotten President Lincoln's few words on the fields of Gettysburg or never knew them, here they are:

THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS

By Abraham Lincoln
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
November 19, 1863

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Just Because It's Funny

I found this little poem just now and it's too cute for words. My compliments to the author.


BUTTPRINTS IN THE SAND
(A parody of Footprints in the Sand)

One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen,
The footprints of my precious Lord,
But mine were not along the shore.

But then some stranger prints appeared,
And I asked the Lord, "What have we here?"
Those prints are large and round and neat,
"But Lord, they are too big for feet."

"My child," He said in sombre tones,
"For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait."

"You disobeyed, you would not grow,
The walk of faith, you would not know,
So I got tired, I got fed up,
And there I dropped you on your butt."

"Because in life, there comes a time,
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt prints in the sand."

--Author Unknown

The Sprout Has Landed

According to Sprout, flying half-way around the world is not so bad, but going through the Atlanta airport twice in one day is enough to drive a man to drinking. Well, anyway, he arrived safely in Far-Far-Away. Yeah, it's a deployment, but it could be worse. He met up with some buddies "in Atlanta" so none of them had to travel all that way without a familiar face. The Army does that, gives you friends from all over so that you get to have a pretty good network, no matter where you go. He called and sounds excited. Nervous, but excited. Now he begins his "real Army" life. No more drill sergeants, wahoo! So far, I've had 2 phone calls and 2 emails. Not bad.

Happy Memorial day, dudes.

Dis'll Make Ya Laugh

Thanks to CaliValleyGirl for swiping this little diddy from Sue so that I could re-swipe it and post it here. Turn your music up and don't laugh too loud.

Should I Go or Should I Stay?

Sprout's little visit is fast coming to a close and I'm wondering if I should see him off at the airport or say my good-byes at home? Should I let Dad or girlfriend do the honors at the airport? I don't want to make it any harder for him than it already is. All these fare-wells are so hard to do. I know I won't cry in front of him at the airport, but my head might explode trying to hold it in. And he'll notice.

He's excited about going but that doesn't make leaving any easier. So what do you think? Should I go or should I stay? I'll probably go.

Any ideas of some nice little something to send him off with - it can't take up much room?

A Soldier and His Cat

The morning after Sprout came home, I peeked into his room and found him sound asleep in his comfortable bed, with the cat coiled up in the crook of his body as though he had been there all the time. The cat is glad to have him home too I guess. It's good to be doing plain old normal stuff with Sprout. Tonight it was a T-ball game. Big brother's son sure had fun showing off for Uncle Sprout.

My sister lives next door and she told me that while I was at work, she and Sprout sat on her porch talking, when a neighbor (I don't even know) from the end of the street drove past. Sprout was in his battle fatigues because he had just finished doing Hometown Recruiting for the day and the neighbor drove by a second time, slowing down in front of the house. He stopped the car and called out "hey soldier". Sprout answered "yes sir?" and the man said "thanks for your service" and waved and drove off.

It does my heart good when people do that.

Sewing To Regulations

I spent most of the morning on Mother's Day sewing Sprout's wings on...if only he would just stand still, it would be a lot easier.

No really...I was sewing them onto his fatigues. He's quite proud to have achieved the right to wear a badge and I say more power to him. But while I sat sewing (to strict Army regulations...1/4" above the patch that says US ARMY) it occurred to me that one day I might hold these uniforms close again, and remember this day, when I sewed on his wings, examining every stitch up close. Some day, these empty uniforms could be all I have. These thoughts creep in and out of your mind when your child is a soldier. You try to prepare yourself for that dreaded day, even thinking up the words you will say, how loud you will cry...if you cry, where the funeral will be held. You picture the sad look on the face of the soldier, who never meet your son, who stands before you with a perfectly folded flag. You lay in the dark and practice whispering "thank you, you're so kind" over and over again. You picture yourself as M'lynn in Steel Magnolias wanting to hit something, hard.

It's not the first time I've imagined a loved one dying. Shoot! I've killed off all my relatives and friends at one time or another and attended all of their funerals, even given a couple of eulogies. But truthfully, you can't prepare yourself no matter how long you practice. When it comes, it's like being hit upside the head with a two-by-four. No matter how much you expect it, you are never ready for it.

Which is why there is a God. And why would a loving God let us suffer so? I have found the answer: because "hardship develops perseverance, and perseverance develops a tested character, something that gives us hope, and a hope which will not let us down, because the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given to us." Romans 5:3-5

FIRE!!!

The building I work in is having a new fire and burglar alarm installed by a couple of saggy-drawered teenagers. These cute little guys have been working on this project for a week and have run enough wire through our ceiling to reach from here to the Great Wall of China. This morning I went to the ladies room and while sitting there chatting with Mother Nature, I noticed that they have installed a new fire alarm light just above the inside of the restroom door. Now, I'm all for safety and all that, but if I'm sitting in the restroom taking care of business, I don't care what's on fire...I ain't leaving till I'm done. I mean, seriously, if that fire is so bad that I don't have time to finish up, then I'm gonna die in it anyway. Why humiliate my children by having my charred body drug out into the street with my drawers around my ankles? Sheesh!

This has absolutely nothing to do with this website but I had to write something.