GOODBYE, 2008. DON'T LET THE DOOR HIT YOU IN THE BUTT!

So much to write, so few words. First of all, THANK GOD THIS YEAR IS OVER. Sprout is home and safe and adjusting well. But yesterday, his Dad did hear these words escape his lips: "I sort of miss Iraq". SAY WHAT? Actually, I think I understand what he means. Life in the US is boring compared to where he has been and it will take some time to settle back into a comfortable routine. Once he gets back to working regular hours after the holidays, I'm sure things will get more normal for him. For me, I am just glad to have him back.

We spent Christmas with him and his wife's family. My daughter-in-law went above and beyond the call of duty, cooking meals for several days for 10 people, even cooking Christmas breakfast AND dinner. AND making stockings full of homemade candy for all of us. I don't know how she did it but it sure was nice. Meanwhile, Christmas here at home was hit and miss. We put up the tree and hung the wreath but that was about it. I missed being at home for Christmas. This was my first time ever being away from home on Christmas day it felt strange but we had a great time.


Sprout has become a hunter since leaving Iraq and killed his first deer the week he got home. He was so excited. For Christmas he got guns and knives and camping gear. I guess living with a loaded weapon at your side for fifteen months makes you feel kind of naked without one. Well, he shouldn't feel naked now. The man is armed and then some.

Holding up the St. Louis Arch


We took Sgt. York and the Little General with us across the country and Santa followed right behind us. They traveled very well and we only had to get on to them once or twice. They got to see snow for the first time and that was way cool. But it is hard for children to be away from their parents at Christmas. By Christmas day they were ready to come home. So was I. I like to travel but I love to come home again. One touching moment happened on Christmas eve as we were driving around looking at the Christmas lights while killing time until supper was ready. Their dad called on the cell phone and I put it on speaker so that they could both talk to him. He asked how they were and if they were ready for Santa to come and he reminded them that Santa was still watching. Then he asked them if they wanted him to read "The Night Before Christmas". They did and after reminding the Little General not to talk while he read, he read the story to them while they both sat quietly, not saying a word. I wish I had a recording of that, he read it perfectly and I had to turn toward the window and blink my eyes a little to keep from crying. He was missing them as much as they were missing him. Anyway, we are home now and everybody is happy.

Here are a few pictures of our tree and our trip. Life is good and 2009 is already looking to be better than 2008, at least for me.

Looky what Santa Claus bought me. I'm a clock freak.



Since I wasn't home to put baby Jesus in the manger on Christmas day, I left the job up to our older son who was cat-sitting. I forgot to tell him where to find Jesus, so he made do the best he could.



Sgt York and the Little General enjoy the snow



Our tree



The Mantle


More snow pictures

Thanksgiving Indeed

"Home is the sailor, home from the sea
And the hunter home from the wood."



Sprout is home from Iraq after 15 long and hot months. He arrived just in time to eat the Thanksgiving turkey his wife has debated thawing for several days, not knowing for sure if he would make it in time for Thanksgiving. He made it.

We are giving thanks.

Free Signs for Soldiers

For anybody who has someone deployed, there is a sign company that is giving away 20,000 FREE welcome home signs for soldiers. On their website, you customize your sign (and can even add a picture) and they do the rest. I paid extra to get mine sent quickly and it was here in 3 days. These are high quality vinyl signs. If you have someone deployed or deploying, now would be a good time to get one of these. Hurry up, they are going fast.

You do have to pay for shipping, but it is well worth it. I love this company.

VICTORY!!!

Sorry this is so late, but it's been one of those days.

The war in Iraq is over. WE WON! And my boy helped. Let the parade begin. We are a nation of good people and we choose our battles wisely and our soldiers are taught to finish the job right.

Now there is yet ANOTHER country that owes the United States a debt of gratitude. Thanks to those mighty warriors that go to battle for us and never complain, there are mothers in Iraq whose children sleep as safely in Iraq as our children sleep in this country.

God Bless the USA.

A Patriotic Song

The other night, Sgt. York's school had a PTO meeting and all the 3rd grade classes were asked to perform for the parents. They did a patriotic show, which is the first patriotic show I have seen at a public school since...well, since I was in school. Just before the show started, Sgt. York was on stage and caught my eye and pointed to the back of the room. I turned and saw what he was pointing at...the Dad of one of the students, a soldier dressed in his ACU's. I think he is the only soldier for miles around. We are not a military town, but I was glad to see him there. Sgt. York can pick a soldier out of a crowd of thousands. Anyway, Sgt. York is the blond boy in the white shirt on the end of the bleachers closest to the camera. I enjoyed this. I hope you will too.

Missing Mama

If my mother were alive, she would be 73 years old today. God, I miss her. She was always a "fall" person, pointing out the approach of the holidays by the stacks of little plastic bowls of green, red and yellow candied fruits in the grocery store. I still get sentimental when I see those candied fruits. She got absolutely giddy whenever she bought the Thanksgiving turkey and she lived for Christmas. Mama just reveled in the atmosphere of a holiday. She instilled that in all her children and we, in turn, instill it in ours. She was a happy person and she treated everybody fair. I hate that my grandkids never got to meet her. She would get such a kick out of the Little General and Sgt. York and all their antics.

And Mama would be so, so proud of Sprout. She always liked him and his tossled red hair. Heck, when he was ten, she gave him a pony. A LIVE pony! And I will never forget her helping him to learn the poem "When The Frost Is On The Punkin" for a school assignment. She loved that poem and when she died, among her few cherished things was a copy of that poem written in Sprout's boyish handwriting. I will never be as good a grandmother as she was. And she was a better mother than she was a grandmother. I have some huge shoes to fill.

Mama gave birth to 10 children, all but one of us lived to adulthood. We had the usual growing pains that most young folks go through, but over all, we turned out all right. That's not to say that Mama's life was always easy, it wasn't. And things were not always hunky-dory but she made the best of whatever she had. The hardest thing she ever endured was the death of a child, and that one incident put all other problems in her life in their proper prospective. I imagine Sprout's experience in the war will have about the same effect. Huge, hard dealings have a way of doing that. It's tough, but it makes us a better, stronger person in the end.

Falling leaves and chilly mornings will always remind me of Mama and as long as I am able, no matter if there are just 1, or 101 people around my table at Thanksgiving, I will cook a whole turkey, just for the smell. The smell reminds me of Mama. Thanks to her I love this time of year and I will always celebrate the holidays like she did, with all the smells and sounds and sights that make them special. Good mothers teach their children well.

Happy birthday Mama, this one is for you.

When The Frost Is On The Punkin
by James Whitcomb Riley

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here--
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock--
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries--kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below--the clover over-head!--
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the celler-floor in red and yeller heaps;
And your cider-makin' 's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With their mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and saussage, too! ...
I don't know how to tell it--but ef sich a thing could be
As the Angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me--
I'd want to 'commodate 'em--all the whole-indurin' flock--
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock!

VICTORY IN IRAQ DAY - November 22, 2008

With my son's redeployment fast approaching, I have been afraid of blogging about it for fear of jinxing his homecoming. I have a great fear of breaching some OPSEC (operational security) rule that I don't know about and unintentionally causing some harm to come to any of our dear soldiers. I am almost certain that I probably am not privy to any information that might be used by our enemies to hurt our warriors, but I don't know that for sure. As a lowly "soldier mom", I just don't know what is safe and what is not. So, until my young-un's boots are safe on American soil, I will remain fairly silent, for safety's sake.

Having said that, I have found something that I CAN blog about. A blogger named Zombie is spear-heading a drive to pronounce "Victory in Iraq" day on November 22, 2008. He's doing this because, well frankly, no one else will. He explains it all on his website. Basically, since the media do not want President Bush to appear to have a success under his wings, they will not promote Victory in Iraq Day...heck, they won't even admit that the war is won. And the new administration certainly won't admit victory, since Obama has already stated that the surge was a failure. Hmmm? Mighty funny-looking failure to me. My son is part of that surge and it seems to me that the US mission has basically switched from a mission of defense to a peace-keeping mission. Coincidental that it occurred while MY son was there? I think not.

Anyway, this coming Saturday, November 22, 2008, please join in a virtual ticker-tape parade for our soldiers by having a "VI Day" post on your blog. Be sure to link to Zombie's web page so that he can add you to his list of participants. It's up to us, the American public who KNOW that this war is won to honor the people who did it so well. Start cutting and pasting the virtual confetti and grab up the cyber serpentine. There's going to be one hellacious parade this weekend. Yee Haw!!!

It's Almost Over

Sorry I haven't posted in so long, but I'm afraid I might jinx everything. Sprout is busy preparing to head home and it won't be long now. He has been real busy working and he is more than ready to end this deployment. Sproutette is ready too. Hopefully, he'll be home by Christmas and we are planning to take the kids and head on out for a very happy Christmas.

For the time being, I am sort of holding my breath, keeping my fingers crossed, and squenching my eyes shut tight so that nothing happens to interfere with Sprouts homecoming. Soon we can relax, but for now it's just hold on tight.

Counting down the days.

The Best Calling Home Website for Deployed Soldiers

Since Sprout has been in Iraq, one thing that has gone consistently well are communications. Because of where he is at, he has had access to phone service the entire time, so we have stayed in constant touch with him or at least his wife has. At first I was buying phone cards and mailing them over as part of his care packages, but early on he found out about THIS website and it has been a Godsend. I took it upon myself to make sure that he always had a way to call home. With the SPAWAR website, I was able to establish an account, give him the code and he can use it to call home anytime he wants to. And best of all, every couple of weeks I can go to the website, check out how much money is left on his account and add more anytime it's needed. This has been the best gift I could give him while he is there and he has thanked me for it over and over again.

I just thought there might be other folks out there looking for best ways to provide their soldiers with phone calls. This is the easiest way I have found.

My Sagging Yellow Ribbon

Fifteen months is a really, really, really long time. I am so ready for this year to be over.


My yellow ribbon needs a hug-ectomy.

John McCain for President

I heard about this guy's video on Rush Limbaugh's show today. Wow! Be sure you watch it all the way to the end.

The Most Powerful Moment in Politics

Last night during the Republican National Convention while Sarah Palin gave her speech accepting the nomination for Vice-President, her little daughter, Piper, held her sleeping baby brother and did what any big sister would do during such an important moment. I watched this and laughed out loud. You gotta know she has seen her Mama do this.

Birthday Boxes

Sprout's birthday box is in the mail. Since I can't send him a birthday cake, I am sending him a birthday Tootsie Roll instead. One of those big ones that takes all day to eat. I'm sure he will just love it.



In other news, I have been reading Atlas Shrugged since the middle of May when I begin reading it while Stoicdad was having this done...



I'm beginning to wonder if I am the only person who has read this book just for fun and not as a college requirement. Man, it is a long book. But it's really good. I only get to read it on my lunch hour and sometimes at night, but I am only about 150 pages from the end and I am determined to finish. I feel like I have been serving a prison sentence being tied to this book for so long. But I can't stop reading it. It is that good. It's a novel about the world collapsing under socialism and it is kind of scary. It really makes you think about our world today. Anyway, I am 3 pages into a speech that I've been told goes on for 75 pages. I guess I should be reading and not writing right now.

Oh, the heck with it. Who is John Galt?

Immortalized on Google

This is weird. I was just checking out Google Maps and looking at our house in the street-view. If you haven't checked out Google Maps and looked at the street-view, you need to go now and look at it. You just enter your address in the box and click on search. Then you click on street-view and you can scroll down your street and get a 360 degree view of the entire street. I would post the link here but I don't really want to splash my address around, not that I don't think everybody out in Internetland is perfectly nice, but you never know Hey! I found a way to post the picture from Google without broadcasting my address.

What's weird is that it is so dated. I could probably narrow down the exact day the picture was taken if I really tried. I know that it was most likely on a Tuesday because the trash cans are out and Tuesday is trash day although sometimes they come on Wednesday. And it was in December because my door is decorated for Christmas and I know it was this PAST December in 2007 because there is a yellow ribbon on the door and a sign in my yard that I put up for Sprout that says "Support Our Troops"


Here's a nighttime picture of the same sign.


Wow, I don't know how often Google can afford to update the street-view pictures...I doubt it will be very often, so Sprout's time in Iraq is sort of immortalized on Google. How cool is that?

My Own Little Scullery Maid

The Little General cooked dinner for us the other night, even peeling the potatoes by herself. I couldn't help but snap a picture of her working so seriously.

"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6

An Empty Nest Is An Awful Thing

About 2 months ago, we REALLY became empty-nesters. In the same week, our cat disappeared and we had to put our 12 year old dog down. We really were empty. No kids, no pets...nothing.

So I went out and did something really crazy. I got us a kitten.



Meet Ping. Her middle name is Pong. She is a hoot. It's been a while since I've had a kitten and I forget how wild they are. This one may take some getting used to. I hated that we lost Sprout's cat while he was gone but I have sent him pictures of this monster and I hope he approves. He will...he's a pushover for a small, furry animal. My Mama always said that the reason God made baby creatures so cute was so that you wouldn't kill them when they got really annoying. It's a good thing Ping is cute because she is really annoying. I have so many wounds on my arms from her "love-bites" that I'm beginning to look like a war vet.

Anyway, Sprout is still "over there". He's on the downhill side but still has a ways to go and a long hot summer before it's over. How will we ever be able to show him how grateful we are? How do you thank someone for a gift so immense? How do you say "I love you" to someone who has DONE "I love you" on such a massive scale?

How can it be that I am so blessed?

MY OLD JOB

I just had to steal another sister poem...only this one is not from my usual poet sister. This one is from ANOTHER sister who, apparently, has a writing gene too.

She wrote this one after sitting outside enjoying the summer breeze and a cigarette to calm her nerves while on a break from her usual 12-hour shift as an Emergency Medical Dispatcher. She had just been standing by on the phone with a man who was having a heart attack and listening in as the paramedics worked on the man who was more concerned about leaving his dog alone than he was about his failing heart.


MY OLD JOB

On a day like to today, I wish I had my old job back.

The job I had when I was seven years old.

My office was at Hannon Park.

My morning commute consisted of heading down Semmes Avenue, crossing Dauphin Street, then cutting through the synagogue parking lot and the only road hazards or detours were my bare-feet dodging the blacktop for the cool grass on the shoulder of the road.

I wish my wardrobe consisted of nothing but a bathing suit
with a towel draped around my shoulders and uncombed hair.

I wish my biggest health concern today were watching out
for stickers in the grass as I walk across the park to the wading pool.

I wish my power-lunch for today was a Fudgesicle bought
from the ice cream truck and water sipped from a concrete water fountain.

I wish my biggest disappointment today was that Mrs. Brooks
(the park lady) had already handed the “Candy-Land” game
out to some other kid.

I wish my goal for today was to be able to hold my breath
under water longer than the other kids.

The only committee I wish to be on today is the one whose project
is to make a giant whirlpool by swimming around and around
and around and around the pool with a bunch of other kids.

The only dare I really want to take is how high I can go on the swings
or if I can open my eyes under water.

The only workout I want to do is pushing the seesaw
off the ground on my end and having my best friend return the favor.

The only worldly possession I would care to have today is my own pair of goggles.

The only fortune I’d care to amass would be the coins we tossed
on the bottom of the pool and found over and over again.

I wish my commute home today consisted of walking home with sunburned shoulders and cheeks and the feel of a wet towel draped around my neck.

On a day like today I wish I were heading home,
hungry and exhausted with a hot meal waiting
and a free pass on the bath tonight.

I wish I could fall asleep to the hum of an attic fan
and dream of doing it all over again tomorrow.

Gone Again

R & R has come and gone. Sprout is very well and was happy to be back in the States. He seemed to be enjoying himself a lot. By the time I got to see him, his wife had him chilling out and relaxed and smiling and I was glad. The grandkids and I drove over to spend a couple of days and he did the sight-seeing thing with us. Stoicdad was laid up with a brand new knee so Sprout had to make a trip here to see him. Sproutette was never more than two feet away from him or him from her. He played with the kids, especially Sgt. York who thinks Sprout is a super-hero. We went to the aquarium and he even showed the kids a "haunted house" right up the street from where they were staying. The kids loved looking into the haunted mailbox, but the Little General put her foot down when it came to going up on the haunted porch. Sprout got a kick out of that. He seems none the worse for wear and yet, he is not the boy I sent to the Army. He's a man. The days went by much too fast and I slept better then I have slept in a while. Sproutette fixed us dinner one night and I so enjoyed standing at the sink washing dishes and listening to them all laughing together in the next room. A happy soldier is a safe soldier.

And sadly, Sproutette once again kissed him good-bye, hugged him like she couldn't let go and put him on a plane that would take him half a world away. I don't know how military spouses do it. And if the parting at the airport is not enough, there is always that long drive home from the airport, alone. And unlocking the front door to another empty house. But at least it's all downhill from here and as Sprout put it, poking fun at the fly boys, "I'm just an Air Force deployment away from being done". (For those who don't know, the Air Force deploys to Iraq for six months at a time, the Army for fifteen). Anyway, I guess Shakespeare knew what he was talking about when he wrote:

"Good-night, good-night. Parting is such sweet sorrow, ere I say good-night till it be morrow".


Waking up in Uncle Sprout's shirt.

For the Fallen

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

— John McCrae

I Don't Know Why

I don't know why I took this picture and I sure don't know why I am posting it. Maybe because the evil aliens from the planet Cocola have infiltrated my camera and my mind just like they have infiltrated everything else. I am a zombie.



Meanwhile, back on the Stoic Ranch, all is quiet and well. Soldiers are home for a time. Nobody is deathly ill, homeless or in jail so all is good...but, of course, tomorrow is another day.

Gosh, I wax poetic.

Welcome Home, Sprout

THIS is a good video to welcome home a soldier. Thanks to my fellow blogger and all-round good gal ArmyWifeToddlerMom for leading me to Mike the Marine who created this clip.

All I can say is "Welcome Home, Son". You're my 'RaqStar.

One Giddy Girlie

Sproutette is on her way to meet my son as he arrives back in the US of A for some much needed R & R. She is so excited it's funny. She is like a little girl preparing a tea party for all of her teddy bears. The only other thing she needs now is a pink boa and some high heel shoes 5 sizes too big.

She is absolutely giddy and it does my heart good to know that my son has someone standing there anxiously waiting for him and only him. There will be no doubt in his mind when he arrives that he has been sorely missed. I just hope she doesn't knock him down while trying to get to him. And hopefully she won't run through any metal detectors either. I would hate for Sprout's first order of business after arriving to be having to bail his wife out of jail.

As for us, the second fiddles, we will sit patiently and wait for them to get reacquainted. I don't mind. I do believe Sproutette loves Sprout as much as I do and that's all that I want for him, to have someone who loves him dearly.

Soon I will breath a little easier for a little while.

Sand Storms and Cigarette Lighters

Sprout will be getting his leave soon, although not as soon as he had hoped. It seems a bunch of sand flying around the air over there has grounded helicopters and pushed everybody's leave back a few days. Bummer...but it does mean a few less days to endure once he returns to the sand. He is asking for a fan...ya think? He said sleeping during the day in the desert heat, even with air conditioning, is not cool. I doubt very much in Iraq is "cool" these days. I told him I was sending more cigarettes also and he says "send lighters...nobody has a lighter over here." His big brother, Sir Duke, just cannot comprehend that NOBODY in Iraq has a lighter or any access to fire. It just does not compute. Heck, just go outside and hold your cigarette up in the air for a minute. Between the wind and the heat I would think that would do it, no? It's just strange the things they can and cannot get. Who would've thought there would be a shortage of cigarette lighters? I guess kicking the habit is out of the question over there.

Anyway, a box of stuff to beat the heat will soon be on the way. I wonder how much it would cost to ship an in-ground swimming pool?

More Funny Soldiers

This guy is a show all by himself. The more I watch this one, the more I laugh.

When IS Easter?

In the past six months, I have heard my soldier son's voice three times, including a call from him this morning. He sounds very tired...weary...just wrung out. He said the work is picking up and the weather is getting hot and he is not getting much sleep. So goes the hard life of a soldier. I asked him if he had gotten the Easter basket I had sent and he said "no...when is Easter?" I think he was surprised when I told him it was tomorrow. Sometimes I feel so guilty sitting here in my comfortable, monotonous life-style while there are people in other lands enduring hardships on my behalf...especially when one of them is my child. Oh, what I would give to be able to bring him home today.

But, aside from his sounding tired, he also sounds adjusted. He sounds normal, not mad or angry or depressed, just normal. The war has become his normal. He has lots of plans for when he gets home, lots of plans for after the army. I suppose that is how they keep themselves sane, by thinking about the future. While we sit by and welcome spring and pretty flowers and Easter bunnies, they keep pushing on, on our behalf.

God bless them all.

What is That Thing

I need some help here. This is a picture of my great-great-grandfather's store back in the late 1800's. Can anybody tell me what that undressed-teepee looking thing is in the middle of the picture? Is it a water well maybe? Anybody got a clue?

As for other news, the war drags on. Sprout is doing as well as someone in a war zone should be doing, I guess. Maybe better than most but who knows? I am tired of the waiting and worrying. Just tired...and he's not even to the half-way mark yet. I am so ready for this year to be over.

I want my boy home.

Sniffle!

Why Don't You Get A Haircut? You Look Like A Chrysanthemum

Sprout is doing good and the war goes on. Politics is heating up and keeping me occupied but still this month is just dragging on. I hope the time is moving fast for Sprout cause it sure is sitting still for me.

In the mean time, my sister sent me a list of some great insults from witty people who didn't need four-letter words to get their points across. Some of these are really good. Oh, that I were so witty.

"I am returning this otherwise good typing paper to you because someone has printed gibberish all over it and put your name at the top." ~English professor, Ohio University

"You couldn't get a clue during the clue mating season in a field full of horny clues if you smeared your body with clue musk and did the clue mating dance." ~Edward Flaherty

"Her face was her chaperone." ~Rupert Hughes

Nancy Astor: "If you were my husband, Winston, I should flavour your coffee with poison."
Winston Churchill: "If I were your husband, madam, I should drink it."

"Just the omission of Jane Austen's books alone would make a fairly good library out of a library that hadn't a book in it." ~Mark Twain

"Beauty is a curse. You don't know how lucky you are" ~Anonymous

"He hasn't an enemy in the world - but all his friends hate him."
~Eddie Cantor

"I could never learn to like her, except on a raft at sea with no other provisions in sight."
~Mark Twain

"The trouble with her is that she lacks the power of conversation but not the power of speech."
~George Bernard Shaw

"He's so snobbish he has an unlisted zip-code."
~Earl Wilson

"He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the vices I admire."
~Winston Churchill

"He is not only dull himself, he is the cause of dullness in others."
~Samuel Johnson

"He is simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up."
~Paul Keating

"I see her as one great stampede of lips directed at the nearest derriere."
~Noël Coward

"It's like cuddling with a Butterball turkey."
~Jeff Foxworthy

"She was so ugly she could make a mule back away from an oat bin."
~Will Rogers

"Why do you sit there looking like an envelope without any address on it?"
~Mark Twain

"Why don't you get a haircut? You look like a chrysanthemum."
~P. G. Wodehouse

"Women are like elephants to me: nice to look at, but I wouldn't want to own one."
~W. C. Fields

"Doesn't know much, but leads the league in nostril hair."
~Josh Billing

"He can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any man I know."
~Abraham Lincoln (I doubt Lincoln really said this)

"He knows so little and knows it so fluently."
~Ellen Glasgow

"Useless as a pulled tooth."
~Mary Roberts Rinehart

"In the United States today, we have more than our share of the nattering nabobs of negativism. They have formed their own 4-H Club - the 'hopeless, hysterical hypochondriacs of history."
~Spiro T. Agnew (about the press, 1970)

"This is not a book that should be tossed lightly aside. It should be hurled with great force."
~Dorothy Parker

Awake in Iraq

I spoke to my soldier son last night...he was just a wee bit wired. He said he had just come off of a weird shift which had him working five different shifts in five days and his sleep-cycle was so messed up that he decided to make himself stay awake for most of his rare two days off. He had not slept in 30 hours and was keeping himself awake with energy drinks...he didn't want fall sleep for another 7 hours so that when he did sleep, he would be good and rested for his new schedule. From the speed at which he was talking, I'm thinking he's gonna be awake for a few more days.

I sure hope he was able to sleep when he finally wanted to sleep. I know these guys fear falling asleep on the job more than anything because it can not only endanger them, but even worse, it can endanger their buddies. Not to mention the fact that they can get into really big trouble if the brass catches them snoozing. On top of everything else a soldier must worry about while fighting a war, sleep or the lack thereof, should be the least of their troubles.

ArmyWifeToddlerMom has a post about her daughter waking up in the mornings bright-eyed and bushy-tailed with the "birdies" and it reminded me of a song my Mom used to sing to me and my brothers and sisters in the mornings when we were growing up. I sang it to both my boys when they were growing up. Hopefully, Sprout will sleep so well that he will need me to sing this song to him one more time:

The birds are up.
The bees are up.
The flowers are up.
The trees are up.
Why aren't you up?


Here's to a good night's sleep and a gentle rising...at war.

I Die for Ty

I said a couple of posts back that this year might be a red-letter year for someone. Well, it already is a red-letter year for my aunt, my mother's youngest sister. All this week she has a front-porch view of Ty Pennington and his crew as they perform an "Extreme Make-over, Home Edition". They are in town to rebuild a home that was damaged during hurricane Katrina for a family with eight kids. It's a family of really nice people who do a lot of charity work and have just run upon some hard times since the hurricane. Anyway, the house is two-doors down from my aunt and she is having a ball watching all the excitement. She plans to sell tickets. They started working this past Saturday, tore down the old house on Sunday, and will have the new house finished by this Friday. My aunt is not in good health and gets out of breath real easy so the crew has been especially attentive to her. She offered up her driveway for them to park a couple of trailors and she has allowed trucks to back into her yard when they needed more space. The crew has provided her with a security guard stationed in front of her house for the duration.

I saw my aunt in the grocery store yesterday and asked if she had already had Ty Pennington over for coffee. She said no, but she promised to call me if he decides to drop by. With all of this going on in town, I find it surprising that none of the menfolk seem to have ever heard of Ty Pennington. Hmmmmm, they could all take a few lessons from him on "how to look good with a hammer".

Anyway, that's what is keeping my mind off of the war today...that and Mardi Gras and Super Tuesday. Yep, that should just about do it.

Bored In Iraq

This is just too cute not to share.

One Scary-ass Picture

If this don't make your mind up for you, nothing will

Hell...Froze Over

So my boy goes to the hottest place on Earth, outside of Hell and what does he find? Snow! Blessed snow. My sweet southern child who, until he joined the Army had seen snow, oh maybe, twice in his life. Now he goes to Iraq and calls home to tell his wife it's snowing.

Wow.

God really does have a sense of humor.

I told his bride I take this as a blessing, a sign that everything will be alright and that with God, all things are possible.

Snow? In Iraq? Strange. Just strange.

Dismantling the Tree and Me

Well, it's the 7th of January, of the year whose name we will not mention (see last post...I want this year gone already). I started this year with a hacking cough that soon turned into bronchitis and made me miss all but one day of work last week and I'm off again today. I've got antibiotics, which I don't think really help bronchitis much but hey, since I was probably on the verge of pneumonia, they can't hurt. But this fever and coughing is the pits.

Anyway, since I am the Christmas Goddess around here, no one has dared touch any of the decorations or attempted to put them away. So, on January 7, in the year whose name we will not mention I am just now getting all the decorations taken down and put away. All, that is, except for the artificial tree that I so proudly posted about earlier.

I got some news for everybody...you know how with a real Christmas tree, the hard part is getting is up straight in the stand and getting all the lights and ornaments on it and the easy part was taking it down? Well, nobody told me that the artificial trees are just the opposite. Getting the thing up was great. Getting it down is another thing...I can't, in my weakened condition, get the middle section to separate from the bottom section. I want to put this tree away so that I can use it again someday...they are reusable, aren't they? At the rate I'm going, I may have to take a chainsaw to this thing. Or I could leave it up all year without the top and just hope that nobody notices it. Hmmmm? What to do, what to do? Well, at least it's keeping my mind off of Sprout and his current adventures.

Can you oil a Christmas tree?

No Offense to 2008, But "Get Lost!"

I'm sure that 2008 will be a red-letter year for somebody somewhere. As for me, I will be glad when 2008 is history because by then, hopefully, my boy will be out of Iraq. Now I know we should cherish each and every minute the Good Lord gives us here on Earth, and 2008 may even hold unforseen treatures for me, who knows. But now that it's here, I am ready to say good-bye to 2008. I hope this is the quickest, dullest, most uneventful year of Sprout's life and of mine. Never before have I prayed for a year to pass by so quickly.

My resolutions for 2008:

1. Get my boy out of Iraq by years-end, safe and unharmed and none the worse for wear.

2. Lose weight (yeah...that's gonna happen)

3. Read more books.

4. Win the Lottery (oh, stop snickering).

5. Make a quilt (now this one I may actually accomplish - quilting calms me).

6. Remember to be happy for what I have.

7. Take the grandkids on a trip somewhere.

8. Save some money (scratch #7).

9. Get screen on the front door fixed.

10. Don't worry. Be happy.