Monday, February 27, 2006

One Sweet Email

Scrolling through my emails tonight, I came across this little email from my soldier that made this Mama smile and tugged at me little heart strings.

hey you should gimme a call sometime today cuz id rather hear yalls voice then see your fonts.
anyway love ya,
Sprout (name has been changed to protect the guilty)

He'd rather hear my voice than see my font. If that ain't love, what is?

Laissez Les Bons Temps Rouler


Well, Fat Tuesday is upon us. Our city has always celebrated Mardi Gras in a big way, so much so that Lundi Gras and Mardi Gras days are both official City holidays here. Well, no one could get downtown to work anyway, so the City and County long ago figured if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Ours is not as big or as bold or as raunchy as New Orleans', although this year we are hoping to steal away a few of their customers. But ours is just as beautiful and has secret societies and all the fun just like the Big Easy, only ours is better because we know just were to stand to get the best views and catch the best throws.

In celebration, here's my favorite picture so far from this season of Mardi Gras. It's Sgt. York and The Little General waiting for one of the first parades.

Let the good times roll.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

#1 Song The Day You Were Born

Now here's a cool website. What was the #1 song the day you were born? Mine was "Tammy" by Debbie Reynolds. Ouch! Now I'm really showing my age. I wish mine was the one for my nephew, his was "We Didn't Start the Fire" by Billy Joel. My granddaughter's song is "Lady Marmalade." I don't know the song, but the title is appropriate. And her dad's song is "Sir Duke". I've been looking for a blog name for him...I dub him Sir Duke, father of Sgt. York and the Little General.

Dang! Now I have to go around singing "Tammy" all day as my theme song.


****UPDATE: After some checking, I now remember "Lady Marmalade" and the 'gitchy gitchy ya ya na na'. I'm gonna have to find a better theme song for the Little General.



Sunday, February 19, 2006

Oh To Be Pleasantly Surprised

The other night, while playing a game of Cranium with my sister and her husband and her daughter, I found out that not only can I not sing (which I've known for quite some time) but I can't even hum on key. The sad thing is that I love to sing. My personal favorite songs are old time southern gospel and Hank Williams tunes, but I can crucify the Beatles, Leann Rimes, or Snoop Doggy Dog just as easily. People have been known to beg me to stop singing, that's how bad it is.

But this game the other night got me to thinking about some of the pleasant surprises I've had in my life. There have been two that come to mind and both involve singing. The first involved the very sister I was playing Cranium with. I was a young teenager at the time and sis was probably 19 or so. We had gone to a local community theater one Sunday for auditions for their next musical play. I wasn't auditioning, I was just along for moral support. We were regulars around the theater and as the auditions dragged on as auditions do, I sat with my back to the stage while a I flirted quietly with one of the cute actors I knew. I had pretty much ignored most of the singing and dancing going on behind me but when I heard a woman's voice singing "I Wants To Be A Actor Lady"...acappella...in operatic style and in perfect pitch, I had to interrupt my flirting to turn around and see who this person was who suddenly had everyone in the place listening. The singer was my sister, who had pretty much never sang before. Oh sure she had done bit parts in the chorus in shows, but she had never hardly opened her mouth before. She had walked in the shadows of our oldest sister who had long ago established herself as the one true star of our family. But now this sister #2 was singing like it was nobody's business. Everybody in the place was shocked and I was pleasantly surprised. Sis had the voice of an angel and I think she even surprised herself. Today she sings with some of the most demanding choirs in town.

The second time I was pleasantly surprised was at mass one Sunday after Christmas. As communion began and we all started toward the front of the church in single file, a man from up in the choir loft at the back of the church started singing "I Wonder as I Wander", again, without accompaniment. He had the most beautiful voice that was made even better by the great acoustics in our 75-year-old church. It was immediately obvious he was not one of the usual members of our mediocre choir. Not wanting to turn around while standing in line for communion, I made a mental note to check out the choir loft on my return trip and see who this voice belonged to. I wasn't the only one. Everyone seemed to look up as they made the turn from the altar. To our surprise (though we shouldn't have been surprised) it was our youngest priest, Father What-A-Waste, a cute young priest in his late twenties, who was the cause of many of the women in the congregation taking a sudden interest in going to confession. He got his nickname because it was a waste for such a handsome man to be a priest. We all knew he could sing, though until now we had only heard him sing the sung parts of the mass, the alleluias and the Kyrie Eleisons (he was the only priest who still sang them in Latin) but never an entire song. Here he was, singing his heart out, his Christmas gift to us, his sheep.

It was a pleasant surprise.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Well...It Ain't Sri Lanka

Sprout has gotten his new assignment, and it's closer than Sri Lanka. He's happy to report that he will soon be state-side. It's not as close as I would like him to be, but at least we will be in the same time zone again. Although I'm happy he will be back in the good ole U. S. of A., I have an eerie feeling that this new assignment is just a portal to another more dangerous world. Sort of a time warp, or one of those vortex things that cartoon characters always walk into and end up in some weird place. So, while one waiting period comes to an end, another begins. A quick googling finds that a group at Sprout's future base just returned from Iraq last week so that makes me a little nervous, just a little. The thought of his deploying sits in the very back of my mind, pushing forward about...oh...fifty times a day. But I also fear the "what ifs". What if we are attacked again? What if the President decides to take out the new guy in Iran? What if crazy Kim Jong Il gets hold of the keys to the Nuke Room and starts pushing buttons just for fun? What if Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia had fallen in love and gotten married and found out that they were really brother and sister after having kids? Now that would have made an interesting movie...but I digress...now where was I? Oh yes...worrying.

But worry is a waste. So I will get back to binding my almost finished quilt and start planning my trips to Sprout's soon to be new home. Worry is such a bore.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Aching for Iraq

Well, I finally heard from Sprout after weeks of silence. We're having to use his roommate's phone number for calls. Sprout says it's okay though...roommate uses Sprout's computer...Sprout uses roommate's phone. They seem to get along well.

Some of Sprout's friends have been notified of where they are going next. We are all getting a little anxious, hoping he makes it somewhere a little closer to home. But hey, Sri Lanka would be closer to home than where he is now. Sprout would like to go to Iraq. This bothers me more than a little. My sister's brother-in-law is going to Afghanistan this summer and just can't wait to leave. What is it with these men? Are they crazy? Do they have a death wish? My nephew (who's been to Iraq already) explained it this way: In the military, you spend all your time training. Without going to a war zone, you never get to put that training to use. It's like rehearsing for a show that nevers opens...Well, I guess that makes sense? But of course, I am wishing for orders stateside. I'm sure a letter to the commander from Mom wouldn't hurt, would it? Sprout is asking for his baseball glove so I guess that means his life is normal so I reckon I should stop whining now. Nah!

On a funny note, the Lost Nomad has this list of the Top 12 Hard to Find Children's Gifts, just in time to be missed for Christmas. I personally like the Easy Bake Meth Lab and the Shiite Pet.

Carpe Diem!

NOTE: In reference to the previous post, if you guessed the guy in the green glasses, you're wrong. He is my older son, the dad of the Little General and Sgt. York. He is a musician and prefers to make music, not war. But he does support his brother and often dedicates songs to him at his gigs. I have been blessed with two good, good boys...ahem...men. So, if you guessed right, take yourself around the world or to the Milblogging Convention or whereever, with my blessing (but not with my money).