UNCLE SAM ATE MY BABY

Blogging Again

2010-02-20T11:44:00.004-06:00

CaliValleyGirl posted a comment to my last posting from back in June so I have decided to revive this dead blog. Heck, who knew anybody was still reading? As my header states, I am supposed to be chronicling my sons enlistment...well...I did okay for a while. He is due to get out of the Army later this year, so I guess I am still obligated to blog. So here I am again.

Let's see - what excitement have I had in the past few months. Not much really. Thanks to Uncle Sam and the brand new "Stop-Loss" rules that went into effect on January 1st of this year, Sprout has been spared another deployment. His group is set to return to Iraq very soon but he will not be with them. He has already begun his out-processing and as far as I am concerned, he cannot out-process fast enough. Six years of serving your country is nothing to spit at and I continue to tell him how proud he should be. And he is proud of his service. But I worry that he may have some hesitation about not deploying with his unit this time. The Army has a way of making soldiers feel guilty. But he has served his country well, having deployed to Korea for a year and Iraq for more than a year, so I would say he has paid his dues. No one can say that he has not done his required duty. And as I tell him often, he has done a heck of a lot more than most in this country have done. The pride of his service to his country is something he has earned through his own hard work and he will carry that with him always. And rightly so. As this chapter comes to a close, I have learned a new meaning of the word "pride"...this mother's heart swells with it.

IN OTHER NEWS: In the past two weeks, I have had somewhat of a connection to the space program. The sister of a friend that I graduated from high school with is currently on the space shuttle, about to return from spending the last two weeks on the International Space Station. How cool it that? She was part of the mission to install a new room "with a view" on the space station. It's called "Tranquility" and includes the coolest seven-window cupola that now gives the astronauts a totally awesome view of Earth. I have been addicted to NASA tv for the past few nights following all the excitement and I have learned so much about space and the space station and zero-gravity and all kinds of stuff. Did you know astronauts don't wear shoes on the space station, they float around in their socks. Why? I don't know. So they don't accidentally bop each other in the teeth with their shoes, I guess. Anyway, it's worth checking out at the NASA image gallery. Too-o-o cool.

SOMETHING ELSE IN MY DRAFT FILE

2010-01-02T18:00:00.002-06:00

WELCOME NEW YEAR

Well, one of my new year resolutions is to blog again. I don't know why...it just is. Anyway, here I am again and life is good. Sprout and Sproutette were home for Christmas and my quiver was full. We had seven warm bodies waking up here on Christmas morning. I love a full house. The grandkids were here and Cousin Pedro and I am still grinning from the joy.

THINGS IN MY DRAFT FILE

2009-06-30T18:07:00.005-05:00

Here are things I started to post but for some reason never did. Go figure.

STOP GROWING!!!

Here are my grandkids, dressed for a cousins wedding and looking so grown up. Sgt. York is going to be a lady-killer, I can tell...broken hearts just waiting to happen. The Little General is all girl. She prefers pink fluffy, dangly stuff over anything else. What am I going to do when they are all grown up?

ORDINARINESS

2009-06-14T21:20:00.005-05:00

I had a long call from Sprout the other night. He just called to say "Hey" and to catch up on all the latest gossip. It was a good, ordinary call and it was good to hear him laugh. I need to stop taking ordinary for granted and be thankful for dull days. Ordinary is good. We need more ordinariness.

Okay, I've dwelled on that long enough. Here is something a little out of the ordinary. This is a picture of two little girls wearing one dress - fifty years apart. The little girls are my sister and her first grandchild. The first picture is faded with age so the dresses look different colors, but I assure you, it is the same dress. Kind of neat, huh?

The Absent Blogger

2009-06-12T08:13:00.004-05:00

Sorry it's been six months since I have blogged but I just have not been in the mood. And a whole lot of nothing is going on around here. Sprout is home safely from Iraq and I am able to breath again and incoming oxygen is a wonderful thing. I just haven't wanted to do anything else but inhale and exhale. My oxygen level is finally back to normal.

Sprout's time in the war zone was spent well - or rather he accomplished a lot. He worked hard, they didn't lose any soldiers and he earned a promotion. He went before the promotion board in Iraq and he started the new year with a new rank. And you can call him Sergeant Sprout. He is most certainly not the boy he was when he joined the Army in 2004. In some ways I wish that he still was. He is more serious now, more intense, quieter. When we saw him in December, just after he redeployed, I only saw him smile once or twice. His wife told me that the holiday bustle made him a little nervous at first, the crowds and everything. Since then, when I talk to him on the phone, he is usually tired from working long hours and work distracts him a lot. Now that he has soldiers that he is responsible for, he is working harder than ever to make sure they have what they need and that they learn what is important. He likes being an NCO but it is not as easy as it looks. He especially likes the respect he has earned. And while he has changed so much, I do still hear the pre-Army Sprout on occasion when he is relaxed and rested. He does still have laughter in there somewhere and it is slowly creeping back up to the surface.

Unfortunately, another possible deployment looms in the near future and his mind is constantly on that. It must be hard to go back and forth from battle-ready mode to every-day work mode without losing your grip. I'll be glad when he can let it all go and get to living a normal life.

In the meantime, my grandkids are growing like weeds. What is happening here? Sir Duke gave me some of the sweetest grand-children on Earth but they are growing up waaaaay too fast...he must be using Miracle-Grow.

The Little General

Sgt. York, 3rd Grade Stud-Muffin

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

2008-12-31T14:57:00.009-06:00

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

2008-11-27T21:15:00.005-06:00

"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

2008-11-24T21:53:00.004-06:00

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!!!

2008-11-22T14:03:00.005-06:00

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

2008-11-20T21:19:00.007-06:00

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

2008-11-19T20:08:00.010-06:00

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

2008-11-17T18:33:00.007-06:00

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

2008-10-31T22:36:00.003-05:00

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

2008-10-02T05:32:00.002-05:00

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

2008-09-27T17:54:00.003-05:00

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

2008-09-12T16:18:00.003-05:00

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

2008-09-04T05:39:00.003-05:00

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

2008-08-18T20:52:00.003-05:00

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

2008-08-07T19:32:00.009-05:00

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

2008-07-29T20:41:00.005-05:00

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

2008-07-09T19:22:00.007-05:00

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

2008-06-26T21:34:00.007-05:00

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

2008-06-12T18:57:00.004-05:00

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

2008-05-25T15:45:00.004-05:00

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

2008-05-25T07:30:00.004-05:00

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

2008-05-20T08:25:00.004-05:00

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

2008-05-15T05:50:00.003-05:00

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

2008-04-23T20:59:00.002-05:00

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

2008-04-15T17:49:00.001-05:00

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

When IS Easter?

2008-03-22T11:49:00.003-05:00

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

2008-03-21T17:59:00.005-05:00

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

2008-02-21T21:27:00.004-06:00

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

2008-02-11T21:36:00.000-06:00

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

2008-02-05T08:14:00.000-06:00

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

2008-02-02T19:12:00.000-06:00

This is just too cute not to share.

One Scary-ass Picture

2008-01-24T21:04:00.000-06:00

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

Hell...Froze Over

2008-01-11T21:32:00.000-06:00

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

2008-01-07T14:04:00.000-06:00

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!"

2008-01-01T12:22:00.001-06:00

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.

It's A Wonderful Life, Sprout

2007-12-24T05:51:00.000-06:00

This was a lot of fun. Here is my version of "It's A Wonderful Life", starring Sprout as George Bailey, Sproutette as Mary Bailey, Cousin Pedro as The Taxi Driver, Stoicdad as Clarence the Angel, Ole Uncle Joe as Uncle Billy and Shaggy the Dog as ZuZu. Go to www.Jibjab.com to make your own movie. It's great.
Merry Christemas Bedford Falls!

Don't send a lame Holiday eCard. Try JibJab Sendables!

Happy 1st Anniversary, Mr. & Mrs. Sprout

2007-12-23T07:07:00.000-06:00

Happy Anniversary, Sprout & Sproutette. I'm sorry you have to spend it so far away from each other but be happy in the thought that there will be many, many more. I love you both dearly.

Who Stole My Yeller Ribbons?

2007-12-22T20:01:00.001-06:00

Okay, this is NOT funny. As you can see by the picture below in the previous post, my house is decorated with a "Support the Troops" theme. What you can't see in the picture are the two light-up yellow ribbons that are hanging on the two columns. They got lost in all the other lights in this picture. Anyway, I got up early this morning to finish my Christmas shopping. I didn't notice until I came home and was out on the front porch chatting with one of my many sisters on the phone, that someone had stolen the Christmas wreath right off the front door. Well, I wasn't too upset about that...it's an old wreath and I need a new one anyway, but then I got thinking and walked out into the yard and turned and looked at the house and sure enough, they stole my two light-up yellow ribbons also. Now I am pissed. You can mess with me, you big green Grinch, but don't mess with my yellow ribbons. The stupid creeps even tried to steal the "Support Our Troops" sign but apparently they gave up when they realized it was tied down. Well, by sundown I had another wreath on the door (wired to the door for good measure) but I don't yet have another yellow ribbon. Sis bought a bunch of these ribbons on sale from ABC so she will replace my missing ribbons the next time she drives up to town. I'm thinking I will drive around the neighborhood and see which of my troop-supporting neighbors is a thief. I ain't in a good mood anyway so they better stop messing with me.

Christmas Without You

2007-12-20T06:00:00.000-06:00

What a soldiers home looks like at Christmas while he is away.

Wise Bunnies Still Seek Him

2007-12-11T19:56:00.002-06:00

The Little General loves it when I bring out the nativity set at Christmastime. It's like a long lost dollhouse for her. And while some would say it's wrong to let the child play with sacred items, I would say "whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein." BLAH!!!

Last year she added a nice touch to the nativity that I mentioned in this post a year ago. This year, as you can see, our Lord and Savior is still able to draw a crowd. Along with the shepards there is a family of people and a family of bunnies and Baby Jesus is even gracious enough to share his manger.

"Why yes, that is an elf standing behind Mother Mary. You were expecting, maybe, Oprah?"

Now everybody say "Awwwwww".

No Light Fight This Year

2007-12-03T22:58:00.000-06:00

Even though my dear mother is probably turning over in her grave and my son away at war may never speak to me again, I have committed a mortal sin by purchasing an artificial Christmas tree. I just could not face another year of cussing at my Christmas tree and getting my panties all in a wad. All I can say is "what took me so long?" If arificial trees had always looked so real I might have done this a long time ago. This has been so easy and except for the lack of a Christmas tree smell, I can't tell it's not real.

Here is one of my newest ornaments this year and it's quickly becoming my favorite. It's from Hallmark and it is so real looking I could swear that was my green bean casserole dish on the bottom shelf.

Hopefully, Sprout and Mama will find it in their hearts to forgive me. I'm sending Mama's famous fudge to Iraq tomorrow to maybe ease the hurt. Sorry Sprout...but I had to do it.

Good Teeth

2007-11-08T20:30:00.001-06:00

There are two words that I never like to hear in the same sentence. Those words are "root" and "canal". Today I had a surprise one of those.

Let me start this off by saying that I have good teeth. I go to the dentist twice a year for a good cleaning and even though I have had some cavities, the hygenist always comments on how good my teeth are. I have never smoked and other than chewing on ice constantly, my teeth get very little abuse.

Well, three or four days ago, I started having a toothache. I decided that if it should start keeping me up at night, I would go to the dentist. It kept me up last night so today I made an appointment. I was expecting to have an old filling patched up, nothing more, but "Surprise! Surprise! You're going to see Dr. Two-Words-Uglier-Than-Hillary-And-Clinton". And wouldn't you know it, he can squeeze me in TODAY. Don't give a person time to think or anything, noooooooo!

Anyway, I went and got the happy gas and of course, one of the nurses out in the hallway starts laughing about something which got me to laughing hearing her laughing and I couldn't stop. Hey, they don't call it "laughing gas" fer nuttin. I hardly ever drink or take mind-altering anything, so I get zonked pretty easy. By the time I left that place, I was drunker than Cooter Brown on a Saturday night after a good confession. I asked the girl at the counter if they always took checks written by drunk women...she said "yes Ma'am" and smiled just as pretty as you please. Then they let me drive myself home. Heck, even my right eye was numb. Are these people crazy? As soon as I get feeling back in my face and can smile with both sides of my mouth, I'm gonna sue them.

Somebody coulda got hurt. And I would have laughed till I couldn't laugh no more.

A Just Reward

2007-10-22T08:49:00.001-05:00

And he groped in his pocket for his mobile phone, the one we had dared not use because it would betray our position. And then Lieutenant Murphy walked out into the open ground. He walked until he was more or less in the center, gunfire all around him, and he sat on a small rock and began punching in the numbers to HQ. I could hear him talking. "My men are taking heavy fire...we're getting picked apart. My guys are dying out here...we need help." And right then Mikey took a bullet straight in the back.

(snip) Only I knew what Mikey had done. He'd understood we had only one realistic chance, and that was to call in help. He also knew there was only one place from which he could possibly make that cell phone work: out in the open, away from the cliff walls.

from Lone Survivor by Marcus Luttrell

If there is one book that I should have avoided like the plague before my son deployed to Iraq, it was Lone Survivor. This is the story of Navy Seal Team 10 and the survival and rescue of the lone surviving member of that team after meeting Taliban fighters in Afghanistan in 2005. I had intended to post about this book as soon as I finished reading it a couple of months ago but it was too fresh and my son might too soon be among some of those same enemy fighters. It was just too hard to think about then. Today as Lt. Michael Murphy, who is mentioned in the passage above, is posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor by President Bush, it is a fitting day to write my review of this book.

I must admit that I began crying before I finished reading the prologue. But I read the book with an open mind. The first half of the book felt as though I were watching a rerun of G.I. Jane as it describes the Navy SEAL training. Not boring, but not captivating either. I mean, after the first thousand push ups, you sort of get the idea that it was hard. I had even begun to get a little mad at the author for starting his book sounding so...happy...considering what he had been through. The first half of the book is very upbeat as he describes becoming a SEAL. After reading all of the things they have to endure, I began to wonder what kind of wimpy soldiers we must be producing if they could all go through this rigorous training only to be killed off by a couple of Taliban.

THEN...

Half-way through the book, the real story began. As Marcus Luttrell describes the fire fight and how he and his three comrades fought off over FIFTY Taliban fighters, it quickly became apparent that I was one of those "foolish women" described so often in the bible. My idiot opinions before reading all the facts are embarrassing, if not downright retarded. What those four men went through on that beautiful mountainside is nothing if not heroic. And to realize that they fought off so many men armed with AK-47's and grenade launchers and still one of the SEALS survived, is absolutely jaw-dropping. The sheer numbers are astounding. This book should be required reading by every high school senior in this country so that they all understand just how valuable and precious our American soldiers are.

And while the description of the fire fight is almost heart-stopping (and will make a helluva scene in the movie) the best part of the book is the story of the Pashtun villagers who decide to protect the lone survivor with

"lokhay warkawal, an unbending section of historic Pashtun-walai tribal law as laid out in the hospitality section. The literal translation of lokhay warkawal is 'giving of a pot'. (snip)Lokhay means not only providing care and shelter, it means an unbreakable commitment to defend that wounded man to the death. And not just the death of the principal tribesman or family who made the original commitment for the giving of the pot. It means the whole damned village."

I came away from this book with a profound respect for these soldiers and a better understanding of the people of Afghanistan. This is a book another military mom might not have read but I am glad I did. Lt. Murphy is deserving of the Medal of Honor. It's a shame he is not alive to receive it.

Don't Go Breakin' My Heart

2007-10-14T21:13:00.000-05:00

Since this blog is about Sprout and his military adventure, I don't post a whole lot about the rest of my family but sometimes I have to. Sprout's older brother, Sir Duke, is in the midst of a divorce. Though I hate that this is happening to him and his wife (who will always be my DIL as long as she's the mother of my grandkids), I especially hate how it's affecting the grandkids, Sgt. York and the Little General.

The saddest description of divorce came to me resently from the six-year-old logic of the Little General. We were talking and somehow the conversation turned to her parent's divorce. As tears welled up in those pretty blue eyes she said to me "When I'm with Mama, I miss Daddy. When I'm with Daddy, I miss Mama."

Sometimes you just have to hold them close.

Well He's Gone...To War

2007-09-30T16:24:00.000-05:00

Any mother who has ever done it will tell you that sending a child into a war zone is as far from normal as anything she has ever done before. Walking into church buck naked with a tricycle on my head would feel more normal. Like any other mother species, we humans never stop protecting our young and doing anything so completely opposite of that is just plain weird. And to be honest, I have not sent my child to war. He just got up and went and there was nothing I could have done to stop it. It was his choice. True, he probably hoped when he joined the Army that he might somehow avoid the war, but he knew what his job would be. He knew that for all the sitting around and waiting and pretending and practicing and rehearsing that the desired end result would be that he would one day put his newly taught skills to the use that they were meant for...to win a war. While he hated to leave his new wife and the family he loves, he was admittedly excited about going. Finally getting to do what he is trained to do is somehow a relief. Now our long wait begins.

Since putting his boots on the ground, he has found that the land he is in is beautiful. Really hot, but really pretty. Joining the war five years after it began, his experience is a little different, so far, than that of his cousin who was there at the beginning of the war in 2003, the same cousin who was told to "guard the gate" even though the gate had yet to arrive. Things now are much better for our soldiers and I imagine they get better every day. Living quarters, bathrooms, dining facilites all are getting better. And Sprout is in a good place. I am not as terribly worried as I thought I would be. He has been in contact with Sproutette and she keeps us advised of his condition. So far, so good. To me, it seems as if he has already been there for fifteen months so the next year or so will likely pass by very slowly. As for Sprout, he says it is a lot of long, hard days but he has learned more about his job since arriving in Iraq than the entire three years he has already served. Last night, just before midnight he called us for the first time. I woke up from a dead sleep but gosh, it was good to hear his voice. It was good to hear for myself that he is okay, he sounds good and normal. Now, if I can just find some way to keep it that way for that next fourteen months.

I began this blog three years ago with a post titled
Well He's Gone just after Sprout left for basic training. I guess now we have come full circle. Hopefully the time will be short when I can finally post "Well, He's Home".

Why They Fight

2007-09-25T05:36:00.000-05:00

While I'm still trying to find the right words to blog about my son going off to Iraq, a sister sent me this picture. The caption will kill ya. Go here to find the site where she found this.
.
Photo couresy of David W. Gilmore Jr./U.S. Air Force

Comforting Embrace

Air Force Chief Master Sgt. John Gebhardt, of the 332nd Expeditionary Medical Group at Balad, Irag, cradles a young girl as they both sleep in the hospital. The girl's entire family was executed by insurgents; the killers shot her in the head as well. The girl received treatment at the U.S. military hospital in Balad, but cries and moans often. According to nurses at the facility, Gebhardt is the only one who can calm down the girl, so he has spent the last several nights holding her while they both sleep in a chair

BobbleHead Bin Laden

2007-09-08T09:16:00.000-05:00

(AP Photo)

Is it just me or does the "new" Bin Laden (on the right) look like a bobblehead doll?
And the clothes? What are the odds of anybody wearing the same exact outfit in two videos supposedly made three or more years apart?

Fatima, you got 'splainin to do.

From Boy? to Man

2007-09-01T21:48:00.000-05:00

When Sprout was in the first or second grade, he did not like to do his homework. He especially did not like to write sentences using his spelling words. One particular night, after having sat with him for a long time while he dilly-dallied and played instead of finishing his homework, I finally had had enough and I popped his little leg hard and threatened him with more harm if he did not finish writing his sentences by the time I returned. I then withdrew all my motherly help and began loading the dishwasher.

After a few minutes, I returned to check his progress, which was going very well due to a swift dose of corporal punishment. I forget now what most of his spelling words were, but they were simple words like home, from, came, with, wish, when, etc. He wrote his sentences and all was well until I read his sentence for the word "wish". As I read over his spelling homework, I realized that Sprout had gotten the last laugh. His sentence?

"I wish my mother would stop hitting me."

Even at that young age, he had a keen sense of come-back.

Very soon, that wise-cracking little boy-turned-soldier will be in a war zone. May he never lose his penchant for one-upism. May it serve him well when he needs it the most.

M R Funnies

2007-08-11T21:43:00.000-05:00

A long time ago, someone showed me and then read this to me out loud:

M R ducks.

M R not.

O S A R. C M wangs?

L I B, M R ducks.

I thought it was cute then and I've seen some others about snakes, mice, etc. Sitting at work the other day, while I was busy doing all the things I'm supposed to be doing at work, I somehow came up with these political M R's.

M R Democrats.

M R not.

O S A R. C M M T heads?

L I B, M R Democrats.
__________________

M R Republicans.

M R not.

O S A R. C M gre D I?

L I B, M R Republicans.
___________________

M R Communists.

M R not.

O S A R. C M I C stare?

L I B, M R Communists.
___________________

M R feminists.

M R not.

O S A R. C M E D B D T D?

L I B, M R feminists.
____________________

Here's a Funny List

2007-07-07T07:21:00.000-05:00

I got a kick out of this list a cousin posted on our family website.

*** The Redneck "Book of Manners" ***

1. Never take a beer to a job interview.
2. Always identify people in your yard before shooting at them.
3. Its considered poor taste to take a cooler to church.
4. If you have to vacuum the bed, it is time to change the sheets.
5. Even if you're certain that you are included in the will, it is still considered tacky to drive a U-Haul to the funeral home.

DINING OUT
1. If drinking directly from the bottle, always hold it with your fingers covering the label.
2. Avoid throwing bones and food scraps on the floor as the restaurant may not have dogs.

ENTERTAINING IN YOUR HOME
1. A centerpiece for the table should never be anything prepared by a taxidermist.
2. Do not allow the dog to eat at the table no matter how good his manners are.

PERSONAL HYGIENE
1. While ears need to be cleaned regularly, this is a job that should be done in private using one's OWN truck keys.
2. Proper use of toiletries can forestall bathing for several days; however, if you live alone, deodorant is a waste of good money.
3. Dirt and grease under the fingernails is a social no-no, as they tend to detract from a woman's jewelry and alter the taste of finger foods.

DATING (Outside the Family)
1. Always offer to bait your date's hook, especially on the first date.
2. Be aggressive. Let her know you're interested: "I've been wanting to go out with you since I read that stuff on the bathroom wall two years ago."
3. Establish with her parents what time she is expected back. Some will say 10:00 PM ; others might say "Monday." If the latter is the answer, it is the man's responsibility to get her to school on time.
4. Always have a positive comment about your date's appearance, such as, "Ya sure don't sweat much for a fat broad."

WEDDINGS
1. Livestock, usually, is a poor choice for a wedding gift.
2. Kissing the bride for more than 5 seconds may get you shot.
3. For the groom, at least, rent a tux. A leisure suit with cummerbund and a clean bowling shirt can create too sporty an appearance.
4. Though uncomfortable, say "yes" to socks and shoes for this special occasion.
5. It is not appropriate to tell the groom how good his wife is in the sack.

DRIVING ETIQUETTE
1. Dim your headlights for approaching vehicles; even if the gun is loaded, and the deer is in sight.
2. When approaching a four-way stop, the vehicle with the largest tires always has the right of way.
3. Never tow another car using panty hose and duct tape.
4. When sending your wife down the road with a gas can, it is impolite to ask her to bring back beer.
5. Never relieve yourself from a moving vehicle, especially when driving.
6. Do not lay rubber while traveling in a funeral procession.

TWO REASONS WHY IT IS HARD TO SOLVE A REDNECK MURDER
1. All the DNA is the same.
2. There are no dental records

Big Blue Goes Yellow

2007-07-01T07:35:00.001-05:00

The Yellow-Ribbonization has begun. I talked to Sprout last night and the pre-deployment stress is beginning to show. He has so many things on his mind and is trying to take care of every little detail before he leaves. He fears he is driving his pretty wife crazy. I offer words of wisdom and say I understand but I have to correct myself. I don't understand. I have never been burdened with the weight of getting everything ready while preparing myself for war and my family for waiting. He is having detail overload, I think. There seems to be so much to do in so little time. I wish I could make it all go away for him. All I can do is make myself feel better by slapping a yellow magnet to my car.

War is heck.

What to Wear With A Yellow Ribbon

2007-06-02T17:38:00.000-05:00

My 1992 Honda Accord is a great little car. She has 165000+ miles and she starts every time I turn the key. We bought her brand new fresh off the showroom floor fifteen years ago.

The years have been hard on her yet she chugs along. She has endured two young boys learning to drive; hours of unbearable summer heat sitting outside my office day after day; suckers, french fries, pizza and cokes plastered under her seats and deep in her carpet; she still runs even though she only has two hubcaps. She lost her antenna in a car-wash three years ago, her air conditioner quit five years ago and the cassette player started eating tapes about four years ago. She really needs a massage.

But more than that, she needs more space on the back to hold the yellow ribbon magnets I plan to plaster all over the car now that Sprout is headed to war. As I said before, I was hesitant about wearing the yellow ribbons on my car but now I am ready. The problem is that the old girl just doesn't have enough room on her rear-end for yellow ribbons. You either have to turn the ribbon magnet on it's side, or put it on the side panel of the car, which just won't do.

S00000000, how do you solve a problem like this? Well, you break down and do what Stoicdad has been begging me to do for years now. You go out and buy a better magnet holder. Meet our newest addition, Big Blue.

I love the old girl, but I gotta admit, I am falling hard for the big guy.

Now won't those yellow ribbons look so much better on the back of this Hunk-A-Hunk-A-Burning-Love? Ladies?

Picture Time

2007-06-01T19:32:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I've posted pictures of Sgt. York and the Little General and they are growing so fast it's scary.

Here they are looking sweet and innocent...photoshop, donchaknow.

Memorial Day - 2007

2007-05-27T23:14:00.000-05:00

Mixed emotions as my son prepares for war on this Memorial Day

Executive Mansion, Washington, Nov. 21, 1864

Dear Madam,

I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant-General of Massachusetts, that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle.

I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save.

I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours, to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of Freedom.

Yours, very sincerely and respectfully,

Abraham Lincoln

A Note From the General (NOT the Little General)

2007-05-14T19:46:00.000-05:00

Michael Yon posted this letter from General Petraeus to the troops. It should be read by us all.

From General Petraeus:

Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines, and Coast Guardsmen serving in Multi-National Force-Iraq:

Our values and the laws governing warfare teach us to respect human dignity, maintain our integrity, and do what is right. Adherence to our values distinguishes us from our enemy. This fight depends on securing the population, which must understand that we—not our enemies—occupy the moral high ground. This strategy has shown results in recent months. Al Qaeda’s indiscriminate attacks, for example, have finally started to turn a substantial proportion ofthe Iraqi population against it.

In view of this, I was concerned by the results of a recently released survey conducted last fall in Iraq that revealed an apparent unwillingness on the part of some US personnel to report illegal actions taken by fellow members of their units. The study also indicated that a small percentage of those surveyed may have mistreated noncombatants. This survey should spur reflection on our conduct in combat.

I fully appreciate the emotions that one experiences in Iraq. I also know first hand the bonds between members of the ” brotherhood of the close fight. ” Seeing a fellow trooper killed by a barbaric enemy can spark frustration, anger, and a desire for immediate revenge. As hard as it might be, however, we must not let these emotions lead us—or our comrades in arrns—to commit hasty, illegal actions. In the event that we witness or hear of such actions, we must not let our bonds prevent us from speaking up.

Some may argue that we would be more effective if we sanctioned torture or other expedient methods to obtain information from the enemy. They would be wrong. Beyond the basic fact that such actions are illegal, history shows that they also are frequently neither useful nor necessary. Certainly, extreme physical action can make someone “talk;” however, what the individual says may be of questionable value. In fact, our experience in applying the interrogation standards laid out in the Army Field Manual (2-22.3) on Human Intelligence Collector Operations that was published last year shows that the techniques in the manual work effectively and humanely in eliciting information from detainees.

We are, indeed, warriors. We train to kill our enemies. We are engaged in combat, we must pursue the enemy relentlessly, and we must be violent at times. What sets us apart from our enemies in this fight, however, is how we behave. In everything we do, we must observe the standards and values that dictate that we treat noncombatants and detainees with dignity and respect. While we are warriors, we are also all human beings. Stress caused by lengthy deployments and combat is not a sign of weakness; it is a sign that we are human. If you feel such stress, do not hesitate to talk to your chain of command, your chaplain, or a medical expert.

We should use the survey results to renew our commitment to the values and standards that make us who we are and to spur re-examinat ion of these issues. Leaders, in part icular, need to discuss these issues with their troopers—and, as always, they need to set the right example and strive to ensure proper conduct. We should never underestimate the importance of good leadership and the difference it can make.

Thanks for what you continue to do. It is an honor to serve with each of you.

David H. Petraeus,

General, United States Army

Commanding

God Bless The Military Spouse

2007-04-15T16:06:00.000-05:00

I find it hard these days to talk about anything other than Sprout and war. I know my sisters are already getting tired of it but bless their hearts, they let me ramble. And when I'm not talking about it, I'm thinking about it. And always, always, in the back of my mind is that awful "what if". What if they come to tell us he is dead? It's a morbid thought and I was beginning to think that I was bordering on some psychosis by dwelling on it so much. I thought I must be the only fool thinking these things so constantly. The other day, Sproutette told me a story that made me realize I'm not alone and I'm not crazy.

Sproutette works with some other military wives with husbands preparing to go to Iraq or already in Iraq. One of her young co-workers, whose husband is in Iraq now, is pregnant. Recently, Sprout was working and sent one of his army buddies to Sproutette's office to pick up something she had for him, keys or something. Anyway, she said when the soldier walked through the door in his military uniform, her pregnant friend turned toward the door and on seeing the soldier, her face turned as white as a ghost. The girl just knew he had been sent to give her some bad news.

I hate that these young wives (or husbands) have to live in fear of being contacted by the Army that their loved one has been killed, but this story shows me that I am not the only one thinking constantly about this. Army spouses has been dealing with this fear since long before I came along. But to be so young and have this fear seems overwhelming.

Come to I think of it, my own grandmother had to deal with this when my uncle fought in Korea. Of course, back then it was much worse as far as news from the front is concerned. My uncle was wounded in Korea and my grandmother received a telegram saying only that he had been wounded. No details, nothing. For weeks, she tried to get some information from the Red Cross and the Army. It was three months before she finally got a letter from my uncle saying that he would be okay. Grandma was always a hand-wringer...maybe now I understand why.

Well...Phooey!!!

2007-04-11T19:11:00.000-05:00

Just as Sprout leaves his pretty young wife for a month of training, they announce this...Gates Extends Army Tours in Iraq to 15 Months. Well, if that don't just tan my hide. More than likely, he will still be in Iraq when we elect his new Commander-in-Chief. Lord, I hope we find somebody worthy.

It's going to be a long, long year (and then some).

I Need Suggestions

2007-03-21T21:51:00.000-05:00

I am trying to think of something that I can give to family and friends while Sprout is gone off to war to help to remind them to pray for him daily. I know people tell you that they will pray for something or someone but I also know how I am...I sometimes forget. I'm thinking of something they can maybe wear with his name on it that will constantly remind them to think of him and to pray for him. I've thought of having dog tags made or maybe some of those POW type bracelets with him name, rank, deployed date and such. Is this idea terribly hokey? Anybody got any good ideas? I really want as many people as I can get to pray for him constantly while he is gone. I know that prayer works and more prayer can't hurt. Maybe I could get some of those plastic colored wrist bands printed with "Pray for Sprout" on them. Whatever it is, it has to be something that will instantly remind people to pray for him. I've found a couple of things like this or this...

The only problem with the bracelet is that I wore one when I was in high school during the Vietnam war and they all had names of MIA's or POW's. I don't EVEN want to think of Sprout as one of those.

Well, whatever it takes to remind people to pray for him...if wearing a bracelet does it, swell. For those of us who are forgetful, it may take something a little more obvious... like this

Surprise Visit

2007-03-01T19:50:00.000-06:00

I had just gotten home from work last night and was in the bedroom changing when the doorbell rang. I hollered to Stoicdad to "GET THE DOOR, I'M DRESSING" (in my quaint little southern drawl). I walked out to be greeted by my brand-new daughter-in-law, smiling and happy. My tone immediately changed as I wondered why she was here and not far-away from here tending to my son. We quickly talked over each other and she said that since Sprout was out on field maneuvers all week, her mother (who misses her) offered to fly her home for a visit. With her husband's permission, she came back to see us. What a nice surprise.

I grilled her good about Sprout and his state of mind on going to war. She tells me much more than he does. She also doesn't yet read him as well as I do. She said that he and his friends don't seem to be worried about going to war while she and all her friends talk about it all the time. She will learn soon enough that men don't voice their fears as much as women do.

All that aside, she sounds quite happy as does Sprout these days. They are a fit match. She did tell me something funny that the Little General said at their wedding which I had not heard before. The Little General is so full of funny. Sproutette (DIL's new official blog name thought up just this minute)said that after the wedding service, the Little General came up to Sprout and said "I'm so glad y'all got married. Now you will be my uncle for ever and ever." Ummmm...little girl...Sprout is your daddy's brother. That makes him a permanent uncle from day one, like it or not. I guess she was confused as to who became the "new" relative once the I do's were said. Anyway, it's good to see Sproutette so happy and to hear her talk about life with my son with such youthful glee.

Ahhh yes, I remember it well, that first year of marriage.

The Prince & Him (Harry & Sprout Go To War)

2007-02-22T17:21:00.000-06:00

Prince Harry ------------------- Sprout
Well, this is a little uncanny. Looks like Sprout and His Highness Prince Harry will be going to Iraq about the same time. I have always had a fondness for Prince Harry. He is only a couple of weeks younger than Sprout and I always thought that Sprout looked a lot like Prince Harry. You gotta admit they resemble each other. HEY! Maybe they were twins separated at birth. Maybe the queen thought that twins would be too much for poor Princess Diana to handle so they searched the world over and found a pregnant lady in the US who, unbeknownst to her, had lost her child during childbirth (even though she was wide awake and didn't miss a thing) and they left one of the royal twins for her to raise as her own. Maybe Sprout is really a prince. I knew it!!! The Prince and the Pauper. Hey? It could happen - they both have red hair and sly grins.

Princess Di and I were both preggos together, heck we might have even gone to the same breathing classes (if I had lived in England 22 years ago and if I were royalty and got to hang out with the crowns and if I had gone to any breathing classes anyhow). Anyway, Di and I bonded during our pregnancies. Well, I bonded. Di just hung out and did pregnant princess stuff. But we could have been friends. We might have shared the same dorca or whatever they call that lady who charges you $700.00 to come and tell you not to forget to breath while you are in labor.

But seriously, Diana died a few months after my mother died and I remember getting up at 3:00 in the morning to watch her funeral and sitting alone in front of the television in our dark living room, quietly weeping. All my sisters admitted to doing the same. Prince Harry was the one who broke my heart. He was so young and so sad. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for boys who lose their mothers young. At least Diana won't have to see him go off to war. Lucky for her.

Maybe Sprout will have an opportunity to save Prince Harry's life while they are in Iraq and the queen will be so grateful that she will make Sprout a knight and we will get invited to have dinner at Buckingham Palace and Sprout will be called Sir Sprout and the queen will let me wear her crown in swimming and everything. Yes, it does sound far-fetched, but it sure beats worrying.

Creeps!

2007-02-17T13:04:00.000-06:00

I've got a few words for those cowards in Congress and their "non-binding" resolution. Well - they aren't my words and they were spoken long ago at the opening of a cemetery for the war dead, but they are just as appropriate today as they were then, probably more so.

"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."

Abraham Lincoln, November 19, 1863

I just absolutely hate people who start something and never finish it.

Krispy Kreme Kids

2007-02-12T21:40:00.000-06:00

Just some eye-candy to keep this poor lil ole blog alive. Nothing much to write about lately. I came across this picture of the grandkids while searching through some pictures tonight. Just call it free advertising for Krispy Kreme. I took this picture one Sunday morning during our after-Mass-doughnut-run. Now tell me the truth...ain't dey cute?

L to R - Sgt. York, Thonk (my nephew), and the Little General

A Hillary Observation

2007-01-23T12:08:00.000-06:00

This past weekend, Saturday Night Live (Jan. 20, 2007) had an opening sketch that is to die for. It's a skit with SNL regulars playing Hillary Clinton and Chris Matthews. The comedian who does Matthews is perfect. I first saw the clip on Lucianne.com and I tried to load it here from YouTube but apparently NBC has a problem with putting their clips on YouTube without permission. Well, that's okay. There is a good article and a link to the clip on this website. This clip is so funny...and sooooo true.

Parenting Test

2007-01-23T11:57:00.000-06:00

It's been years since I've had small children living in my house, but those are years you don't easily forget. Today I got this funny Parenting Test in my email. I especially like the Grocery Store Test. God bless all you young folks with little children. Be happy in the knowledge that it won't last forever and an empty nest is just waiting for you to come and take a nap. Enjoy!

You're not ready to be a parent unless you can pass the following tests:

Mess test: Smear peanut butter on the sofa & curtains. Now rub your hands in
a wet flower bed & rub on the walls. Cover the stains w/ crayons. Place a
fish stick behind the couch & leave it there all summer.

Toy test: Obtain a 55-gallon box of Legos. (If Legos are not available, you
may substitute roofing tacks) Have a friend spread them all over the house.
Put on a blindfold. Try to walk to the bathroom or kitchen. Do not scream
(this could wake the little ones at night).

Grocery store test: Borrow 1 or 2 sm goats & take them grocery shopping w/
you. Always keep them in sight & pay for anything they eat or damage.

Dressing test: Obtain 1 lrg, unhappy, live octopus. Stuff into a sm net bag
making sure that all arms stay inside.

Feeding test: Obtain a lrg plastic milk jug. Fill halfway w/ water. Tie jug
to ceiling fan blade. Turn fan on. Try to insert spoonfuls of oatmeal into
the mouth of the jug while pretending to be an airplane. When finished, dump
the contents of the jug on the floor

Night test: Fill a sm cloth bag w/ about 10 pounds of sand. Soak the bag in
warm water. At 8pm begin to waltz & hum w/ the bag until 9pm. Lay down your
bag & set your alarm for 10pm. Get up, pick up your bag, & sing every song
you have ever heard. Make up about a dozen more & sing these too until 4am.
Set alarm for 5am. Get up & make breakfast. Keep this up for 5 years. Look
cheerful.

Physical test: (women) Obtain a lrg beanbag chair & attach it to the front
of your clothes. Leave it there for 9 months. Now remove 10% of the beans.

Physical test: (men) Go to the nearest drug store. Set your wallet on the
counter. Ask the clerk to help himself. Now proceed to the nearest grocery
store & do the same. On the way home purchase a newspaper. Go home & read it
quietly for the last time.

Final assignment: Find a couple who already have a sm child. Lecture them on
how they can improve their discipline, patience, tolerance, toilet training,
& child's table manners. Suggest many ways they can improve. Emphasize to
them that they should never allow their children to run wild. Enjoy this
experience. It will be the last time you will have all the answers.

Meet Anthrax, the Scanner Cat

2007-01-16T20:56:00.000-06:00

Hey, a Cat Scan!

Tonight I introduce our cat, Anthrax. I've written about her here and here. Hey, it's a slow news cycle. Anthrax is five years old, born about three weeks before 9/11/2001, which explains her name. She is the only one on this blog who goes by her given name. She don't need no stinkin' screen-name (coincidentally, the other night I saw the actual movie that has the line "we don't need no stinkin' badges", it's a Humphrey Bogart movie. I never did see what the name of the movie was but the actor that says that line was perfect). Anyway, Anthrax is the perfect cat. She doesn't claw the furniture, all though, as you can see, she could if she wanted to.

She is quite proud of her God-given eye-gougers. She doesn't use a litterbox, she prefers to go outside. She stays outside mostly, unless it's cold. She does not do cold. She doesn't bite my feet at night and her only vice is that she likes to get up at 3:00 am and have a snack and then go outside. She prefers that you stand there and wait for her to finish eating...at 3:00 in the morning...aside from that, she is the perfect cat. Unlike the dog, who I seriously would pay a good hit-man to take out. The dog stinks. The cat is perfect. I'm a cat person.

We didn't intend to keep Anthrax or her pretty yellow brother. We planned to give them both away. Anthrax is not a beautiful cat. She is your usual gray tabby although the older she gets, the yellower she gets. When they were kittens, Stoicdad took them both to the local pet store on adoption day and sat for a few hours waiting for someone to come along and adopt them. A little girl came by and snatched up the male cat, which was the cat I would have kept if I had a choice. He was prettier. But we ended up keeping Anthrax and giving her that wonderful name and it turns out she is one of the best cats we've had. She has earned her spot at the foot of my bed. She sits and guards my scanner so no cat-burglars can get it. She really is a good cat. I 'spect I'll keep her.
My cat and my mouse.

A Bittersweet Wedding

2007-01-06T13:16:00.000-06:00

MR & MRS SPROUT (Official wedding pictures are forthcoming)

This has been the hardest post for me to write. It should be the easiest one. Sprout and his bride had the most beautiful wedding. There was candlelight, Christmas trees, flowers, and a brass quartet. It could not have been more perfect. They spent Christmas in town visiting family and friends and then headed off to honeymoon their way across the country back to Armyland. Everything is good.

So why am I having so much trouble writing this? Why have I sat down five times to type only to get up and walk away on the verge of tears? I think because in my mind the order of my life lately has been - thanksgiving...wedding...Christmas...DEPLOYMENT!!! Now that the wedding and Christmas have passed, my mind is focused on Sprout's upcoming deployment. I have to get ready. I have to prepare myself. This week I even bought this and have put it away to send to Sprout NEXT Christmas...his deployemnt tree.

I feel the need do something now to prepare myself for the time when my son is at war. I have always been one of those women who thinks of everything. When we travel, I am the one who makes sure we have the credit card, the maps, our toothbrushes. There are always spare lightbulbs and toilet paper in my house. I am always as prepared as best I can be.

But how am I supposed to prepare for this? How do I ready myself for a year of constant worry? How do I accept the fact that my son is going to a place where he must sleep with his rifle in order to protect himself? What I would really like to do is go to Iraq, find out exactly where Sprout will be living, check out his quarters, build a few brick walls around his temporary home and clear the entire country of bad guys and bad things. Instead I am stuck contemplating the useless junk I can buy to send to him while he is away.

When Sprout was home this time, he was excited and busy and giddy with wedding stuff, but under it all I could see his worry, his fear creeping in and out of his expressions. I know that having his wife with him now will do him a world of good. He will have someone there to talk to at night when the world gets quiet and the long days of preparing for battle have ended. I am so glad they decided to get married before he left for war. I would hate for him to have to go through all these hard preparations without a soulmate to help him cope.

Now, if I can just figure out how I will cope.

Christ Puts Himself Back in Christmas

2006-12-20T12:32:00.000-06:00

The Stoic household is buzzing these days with wedding prep and Christmas decorating. Sprout will be here soon and the wedding count down has begun.

I decided that I should take pictures of the Christmas tree before the festivities began and I go and forget all about it. So the other night, I took this picture.

Now, look closely at the cross on the wall to the right of the tree. Guess what...there ain't a cross of the wall in that room. I had to do a double take because I know that room like the back of my hand. I hung every picture in that room and I KNOW there is not a cross on the wall. On closer inspection, I realized that the cross is actually a reflection on the glass of the hallway that is behind me as I took the picture. Freaky, huh? I guess I better not forget who in in charge of Christmas.

Now, back to the wedding preparations.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

Tis The Season To Think As A Child

2006-12-03T20:08:00.000-06:00

The grandkids were over today and helped me pick out a Christmas tree to fight with. But before we did that, we had to answer the traditional holiday protocol in this family and first bring out the creche and set up the Holy Family, who did after all start all this crazy merriment we now call Christmas. I explained to the Little General that I usually stash baby Jesus away in a drawer until Christmas day because he isn't born until then. She didn't like this idea, apparently thinking me guilty of some sort of child abuse and indicated that she preferred to have baby Jesus adopted out by Barbie.

Well, some folks might think that it would be sacrilegious of me to allow a child to play with a baby Jesus figurine as a play thing, but knowing my God the way I do, I happen to have it on good authority that he suffers the little children not to come unto him and I am sure that he considers it an honor that the Little General feels inclined to rescue baby Jesus from a deep, dark drawer.

And isn't it just like a child to teach us the meaning of things? After the kids left this evening, I went around the house picking up toys and putting things back in their place. I passed by the nativity set and smiled at the way all the wise men and shepherds were haphazardly arranged. It wasn't until I begin moving them around that I noticed how the Little General had arranged the manger, swaddling my plastic baby Jesus in a blue plaid blanket to keep him warm. I stand here now, humbled.
I have decided not to change a thing.

Thanks, Little General for reminding me.

Giving Thanks and Walmart Shopping

2006-11-26T21:00:00.000-06:00

We just got back late this afternoon from a week long Thanksgiving visit with Sprout in fly-over country. Stoicdad has a horrible fear of flying so we drove...two days up and two days back. Under normal circumstances, this would have been enough "bonding" time to end a twenty-seven year marriage, but we took Bridey and cousin Pedro with us so we had to be on our best behavior. Sprout was glad to see us, VERY glad to see Bridey. She is staying on an extra week so that they can go hunting for an apartment and do other such getting-hitched type stuff.

On the way up and back, we spent the night at the home of my mother's sister. It's been eight years since I have seen my aunt. She moved away about ten years ago, around the time my mom died. I did not realize just how much I missed her and her family. We stayed up talking and reminiscing and laughing and she looks so much like Mama and sounds just like her and moves just like her and laughs like her and thinks like her. It was nice to have someone else remind ME that it was Mama's birthday for a change. Mama would have turned seventy-one last week had she lived. She and my aunt were so close and so funny together. Sigh! How I miss those days.

But the most exciting thing about our little trip is that our hotel stood just across the parking lot from a Walmart. Now, normally I don't do the Black Friday shopping thing BUT when Walmart is so close you can spit on it, well, if that ain't a sign from God, I don't know what is. I woke up at 4:30 A.M., looked out the window and saw a stream of headlights heading into the Walmart parking lot and decided to brush my teeth, throw on some clothes and grab my purse. I left Stoicdad a note that said "Gone to Walmart" just in case I never made it back. I got there and just happened to be at the exact door where the portable DVD players were and managed to get a couple without a fight and made it back to the hotel by 5:30 and Stoicdad was none the wiser.

The poor man could wake up completely broke one day and not have a clue.

Another Funny From the General

2006-11-17T21:11:00.000-06:00

As I've said here before, my grandkids remind me often that I sometimes cuss. I didn't realize that I cuss so much, but hey, I'm raised in the south. It's in "mah bluud". Anyway, I now own a coin bank that the grandkids remind me to fill each time I say a bad word. The other day they were over and we were putting those shiny State quarters into their little collection books. They enjoy this and they earn and learn in the process. I have promised them that as soon as they get them all, they can go buy something and start collecting all over again.

Anyway, we had one quarter left over that they didn't need and the Little General asks me what to do with the quarter. I point to the cussin' jar and tell her to put it in. She holds the quarter to the slot on the jar and looks at me with that sly little grin and says "say a cuss word, Grandma".

Well hey! No need to waste a perfectly good quarter.

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! All Tuxedos, Fitted and Paid For

2006-11-04T08:04:00.000-06:00

We have all been trying to encourage Sgt. York to be the ring-bearer in Sprout's wedding(or ring-barrier, as the child at my niece's wedding called himself). He balks. Two years ago Sgt. York was in his cousin's wedding (he was four years old then, a mere child) and as he speed-walked down the aisle, he dangled the ring-pillow from the pretty satin ribbon that was meant to hold the rings (wisely, no rings were attached) and swung it back and forth all the way to the altar. The audience giggled. We did not know until now how that laughter affected Sgt. York. He does not want to be laughed at again. So, we have tried every means of persuasion. Bribery, threats, empathy (do it for a soldier)...nothing was working. But hey, they don't call me GRANDma for nothing.

I decided that if we couldn't get him on a childish level, maybe we could get him on a manly level. As we rode home together the other day, I started talking about the wedding...AGAIN...and I just happened to mention how the men in the wedding party usually sneak out during the reception to decorate the get-away car. I watched in the rear-view mirror as Sgt. York's ears perked up. Now, he was listening. I mentioned all the ideas I had seen on wedding cars. The painting, the tin cans, the condoms (uh-umm, I didn't mention the condoms, but a picture of the car in Steel Magnolias was running through my mind). Well, I had found a way to Sgt. York's heart. THIS he could be a part of. THIS he was willing to endure a little embarrassment for. He wants to be a part of a group of men who vandalize cars for the shear fun of it.

All the other men in the wedding party have been fitted for tuxes and now I felt sure it was time to snare Sgt. York. I was on a mission. I knew that walking into the tux store and seeing all the suits and trying on a coat in front of big mirrors would be all it would take to push the Sgt. over the edge. It was just a matter of luring him into the car and getting him there. This was my mission and it must not fail. Like the great generals of yore, I only had to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Suddenly yesterday, the time had come. His dad, Sir Duke, called to ask if I would babysit for a few hours after work and I knew that would be the time to act. I knew that the tux store stayed open until 7:00pm. I figured that if I offered to take the kids to a movie, I would have just enough time after I got off work to run by and pick them up, drive through Friday night traffic out to the tuxedo store, and from there we could move up the road a ways to the movie house. A perfect plan. And it was even enhanced by the time-change because it was good and dark when we drove into the parking lot of the tux store and I could see Sgt. York's eyes light up as he surveyed all the suits in the store window. As we walked up, we saw the store was empty and the Little General tried the door but it appeared to be locked. She couldn't budge it. OH NO!!! I might not get this chance again. I read the schedule on the door and it said they were open for two more hours. I started to panic, but in situations like these cool heads must prevail, and I stopped and put the mission back into focus. After pressing my face against the window once or twice and looking back and forth up the walkway for some sign of hope that my mission was not doomed to be a miserable failure, I decided to try the door myself. The Little General was, after all, the weakest one in our party and an unknowing accomplice...she may have been wrong about the door. Stealthily I grasped the door handle and with all my might (okay...a little bit of my might)I opened the door. Within seconds, we were in. Like taking candy from a baby...Sgt. York did not even realize that he had been snared. And as I suspected, he was in awe of his surroundings. He loved being the center of attention while the nice lady measured his arms and neck and legs. Trying on the coat turned my shy little grandson into Russell Crow on the red carpet. My misson was accomplished. It could not have worked better. We now have complete tuxedo fittage and the over-all plan is still on target. W-day is getting closer and clearer every minute.

Sleepin' At The Foot O' The Bed

2006-11-02T22:06:00.000-06:00

It's due to get good and cold tonight...FINALLY. Down into the thirties, so they promise. In honor of warm quilts and snugglin', here's a fun winter poem of old.

Sleepin’ At The Foot O’ The Bed
By Luther Patrick

Did ye ever sleep at the foot o’ the bed
When the weather wuz whizzin’ cold,
When the wind wuz a-whistlin’ aroun’ the house
An’ the moon wuz yeller ez gold,
An give your good warm feathers up
To Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Fred-
Too many kinfolks on a bad, raw night
And you went to the foot o’ the bed-
Fer some dern reason the coldest night o’ the season
An’ you wuz sent to the foot o’ the bed.

I could allus wait till the old folks et
An’ then eat the leavin’s with grace,
The teacher could keep me after school
An’ I’d still hold a smile on my face,
I could wear the big boys’ wore-out clothes
Er let sister have my sled,
But it allus did git my nanny goat
To have to sleep at the foot o’ the bed;
They’s not a location topside o’ creation
That I hate like the foot o’ the bed.

‘Twuz fine enough when the kinfolks come-
The kids brought brand-new games,
You could see how fat all the old folks wuz,
An’ learn all the babies’ names,
Had biscuits an’ custard and chicken pie,
An’ allus got Sunday fed,
But you knowed dern well when night come on
You wuz headed fer the foot o’ the bed;
You couldn’t git by it, they wuz no use to try it,
You wuz headed fer the foot o’ the bed.

They tell me that some folks don’t know whut it is
To have company all over the place,
To rassel fer cover thru a long winter night
With a big foot settin’ in your face,
Er with cold toenails a-scratchin’ your back
An’ a footboard a-scrubbin’ your head;
I’ll tell the wide world you ain’t lost a thing
Never sleepin’ at the foot o’ the bed;
You can live jest as gladly an’ die jest as sadly
‘N’ never sleep at the foot o’ the bed.

I’ve done it, an’ I’ve done it a many uv a time
In this land o’ brave an’ the free,
An’ in this all-fired battle uv life
It’s done left its mark upon me,
Fer I’m allus a-strugglin’ around at the foot
Instead of forgin’ ahead,
An’ I don’t think it’s caused by a doggone thing
But sleepin’ at the foot o’ the bed;
I’ve lost all my claim on fortune an’ fame,
A-sleepin’ at the foot o’ the bed.

John Kerry - Stu-oo-pid!

2006-11-01T12:44:00.000-06:00

Here is our military's response to Democrat Senator John Kerry who said "You know, education -- if you make the most of it, you study hard and you do your homework and you make an effort to be smart, you can do well.
If you don't, you get stuck in Iraq."

I pilfered this picture from the Drudge Report. It was just too tempting.

Move Over Betty Grable, There's a New Poster Girl in Town

2006-10-26T22:41:00.000-05:00

Boy, the Dixie Chicks could sure learn a thing or two from this fine Australian girl. Thanks to Blackfive for turning me on to her. This song is exactly what I need to hear right now. It is singer Beccy Cole's response, upon returning home from entertaining the Australian troops in the Middle East last Christmas, to a letter from a fan who opposes her support of the war and the Aussie soldiers, the Diggers. I took the liberty of copying down the lyrics as best I could below just in case anyone wants to sing along. Thanks Beccy!

***UPDATE: Anonymous corrected me on some of the lyrics I had posted. Below are the corrections (and they happen to be what I actually thought the words were when I first heard the song. I guess I was second guessing myself. I'm mostly deaf so I question most of what I hear anyway). Enjoy!

Poster Girl

POSTER GIRL (WRONG SIDE OF THE WORLD)

By Beccy Cole

You don’t listen to my songs anymore.
You ripped my poster off the wall.
‘Cause I’m a singer that went to the war,
You see no good in me at all.

Pardon me if I believe
I haven’t got it wrong.
And before you turn your back on me
I’ll sing you one more song.

‘Cause I shook hands with a Digger
On the wrong side of the world
With a wife at home who holds her breath
And brand new baby girl.

And the Digger fights for freedom
In a job that must be done
And I let go of his hand
So proud to be Australian.

CHORUS
And if unlike me you feel no pride at all
Then go ahead and take me off your wall.
‘Cause I prefer to be a poster girl
On the wrong side of the world.

Now I’m just the girl who sings the crazy songs.
Not qualified to sit and judge.
I’ve been right and I know I’ve been wrong.
But I’m for peace and I’m for love.

And I admire the burning fire
That causes you to fight.
I only wish the wrong side of the world
Had the same right.

‘Cause I listened to the wisdom
Of an Aussie Brigadier.
He spoke of widows and of orphans
And the need to dry their tears.

And he needs to fight for freedom
In a job that must be done
And I’ve never been more proud
To say that I’m Australian.

CHORUS
And if unlike me you feel no pride at all
Then go ahead and take me off your wall.
‘Cause I prefer to be a poster girl
On the wrong side of the world.

Maybe I’m naïve to think
We all could get along.
But sir, I read your words
And all I ask is ‘hear my song’.

‘Cause I shook hands with a Digger
On the wrong side of the world
With a wife at home who holds her breath
And brand new baby girl.

And the Digger fights for freedom
In a job that must be done
And I’ve never been more proud
To say that I’m Australian.

CHORUS
And if unlike me you feel no pride at all
Then go ahead and take me off your wall.
‘Cause I prefer to be a poster girl
On the wrong side of the world.
I’m so proud to be a poster girl
On the wrong side of the world.

Pre Traumatic Stress Disorder?

2006-10-17T12:47:00.000-05:00

I've heard that families of soldiers can suffer from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) as well as the soldier but is there such a thing as PRE-Traumatic Stress Disorder? A co-worker recently sent me this article of an email home from a Marine which I had already seen a while back, at Blackfive's blog I think, but I never finished reading the entire thing until now. Whoa! Now I'm traumatically stressed thinking about Sprout's likely upcoming deployment. This line especially hangs heavy on my heart:

"Most Memorable Scene — In the middle of the night, on a dusty airfield, watching the better part of a battalion of Marines packed up and ready to go home after over six months in al-Anbar, the relief etched in their young faces even in the moonlight. Then watching these same Marines exchange glances with a similar number of grunts loaded down with gear file past — their replacements. Nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said"

and then this one really made me sad:

"Most Common Thought — Home. Always thinking of home, of my great wife and the kids. Wondering how everyone else is getting along. Regretting that I don't write more. Yep, always thinking of home."

As a mother of a soldier about to deploy, that thought stays constantly on my mind. I have so many other things to think about right now...the holidays, the wedding...and yet thoughts of war keep creeping in and out of all my plans. Trying to prepare myself for the feelings, the fears, the tense months of waiting for it all to be over. Knowing that I must now take a backseat to his new wife and trying to keep my place but also wanting to know every word he says, how he sounds, what he is going through while he is there. Learning what time it is in yetanother time zone, waking up before dawn hoping to be IM'd. If it's already this hard for me, how hard must the thought of going to war be for him?

I will have to place my trust in God. I don't guess it will hurt to start praying in advance.

More Funnies in My Emailbox

2006-10-16T12:41:00.000-05:00

NEW DRUGS FOR WOMEN

DAMNITOL
Take 2 and the rest of the world can go to hell for up to 8 full hours.

EMPTYNESTROGEN (I need this one, NOW)
Suppository that eliminates melancholy and loneliness by reminding you of how awful they were as teenagers and how you couldn't wait till they moved out.

ST. MOMMA'S WORT
Plant extract that treats mom's depression by rendering preschoolers unconscious for up to two days.

PEPTOBIMBO
Liquid silicone drink for single women. Two full cups swallowed before an evening out increases breast size, decreases intelligence, and prevents conception.

DUMBEROL
When taken with Peptobimbo, can cause dangerously low IQ, resulting in enjoyment of country music and pickup trucks.

FLIPITOR
Increases life expectancy of commuters by controlling road rage and the urge to flip off other drivers.

MENICILLIN
Potent anti-boy-otic for older women. Increases resistance to such lethal lines as, "You make me want to be a better person. "

BUYAGRA (This is my favorite)
Injectible stimulant taken prior to shopping Increases potency, duration, and credit limit of spending spree.

JACKASSPIRIN
Relieves headache caused by a man who can't remember your birthday, anniversary, phone number, or to lift the toilet seat.

ANTI-TALKSIDENT
A spray carried in a purse or wallet to be used on anyone too eager to share their life stories with total strangers in elevators.

NAGAMENT
When administered to a boyfriend or husband, provides the same irritation level as nagging him.

2006-10-12T20:45:00.000-05:00

Volvo commercial

I just love this commercial. It reminds me of someone I know (see previous post below).

Another Quote From the Little General

2006-10-10T12:47:00.000-05:00

I know I post a lot about my granddaughter but she is just so darn cute. The other night, Sprout's future Bride came by to visit and the Little General was here. The Little General was talking about her upcoming huge Christmas show at school and the Bride asked the Little General "can I come see your show?" The Little General's eyes lit up and she said "Yeah! You can wear your wedding dress." Well, it sounds logical to me. I mean, why only wear it once? I might even wear mine. NOT!!!

Here's the Little General, beautiful as always.

Shine On, Harvest Moon

2006-10-06T20:58:00.000-05:00

The Stoics went to dinner tonight as is our Friday ritual now that we are empty nesters. On the way home, we were guided by this most beautiful harvest moon. Everytime I see one, I am in awe of our God and all his glory. Anyway, if this picture makes you feel like you just have to sing the song, here's ya a backup band.

2006-10-05T01:46:00.000-05:00

Faces of Courage: Paul Ray Smith

Atta boy, MSNBC. They will be airing this and other tributes to the fine soldiers that make this country great. Who'da thunk we'd see this on MSNBC. Will wonders never cease?

*UPDATE: Well, this is weird. I tried to post this video from YouTube.com waaaaaay last week but it didn't seem to work so I gave up. Today I log on and BOOM! There it is. What gives? Oh well. Better late than never.

Dit Dit Dah Dit Dit...Duh

2006-10-04T12:44:00.000-05:00

Don't ask me why but for some crazy reason, I have decided to learn Morse Code. Yes...dot dot dot dash dash dash dot dot dot, only in "Code" country we call it dit dit dit dah dah dah dit dit dit. I don't know why. Anyway, I downloaded a free program that lets you learn a couple of letters at a time and you have to listen to the code and type it as you hear it. My first five minute test looked a lot like "mkkm mm kmk kkk kmmmmkm kmmkkkmmm mk kk kkkm mkmkm"...I have learned M and K pretty good. Now, if anyone sends me a secret message with words that only use the letters M and K, I'm all set. Tonight I may add R. Rrrreow! It's fun learning this, but my brain can only stand about a minute and a half of the beeping until I have to stop the sound. After a while I was able to go the full five minutes, but it feels like my brain has little BB holes in it. I hope this don't make me crazy (but hey, who would know?). How I got this idea, I don't know. Sometimes I do that. I get possessed with some crazy idea and can't stop till I've mastered it. So, coming soon...a secret message...here's a hint: it will only contain words spelled with M's and K's.

Wedding Preparations - Full Speed Ahead

2006-09-24T18:47:00.000-05:00

Well, it hasn't taken any time for Sprout's wedding preparations to fall into full swing. Everything is falling into place nicely and us girls (me, Bridey and MOTB-Mother of the Bride) are having a really good time with all the plans.

Yesterday, we took the Little General to pick out a flowergirl dress. The other flowergirl doesn't know it yet, but the Little General has appointed herself "Head-Flowergirl-In-Charge". One thing I gotta say about the Little General...she is a girl, through and through. She loves all things feminine and if it were possible, I'm sure she would have moved all of her belongings to the bridal store and just lived there for the rest of her life. She was definately in her element. We had to laugh at her as she modeled her pretty dress while all the other future brides milled around in theirs...I think she thinks she's getting married. There's only one problem with that - boys are mean and she's never getting married. But she can still have the dress and the shoes and the gloves and the ~~tiara~~ crown...can't she?
Here she is looking so darn cute that you would never guess that she will one day be either the leader of the free world or the leader of the Crips and the Bloods. That's my Little General!

2006-09-22T22:01:00.000-05:00

antiboredom campaign

An oldie but goody. It'll leave you laughing.

All You Young Mothers...Thank Your Lucky Stars

2006-09-18T22:40:00.000-05:00

Okay, all you young mothers out there. Here is some poetry my sister dug up while doing some family history research. She has found that we are descended from a wealthy guy with a castle in Holland (which is still in use today) from around the 16th century. We are sprung from his illegitimate family (some things never change) who he allowed to settle on land below his castle...our family name means "flatlanders".

Anyway, one of my long lost relatives from about a hundred years ago or so, named Fannebelle, must have lost a child at some time because she apparently wrote these three beautiful poems while grieving. Sis did a quick Google search and couldn't find them anywhere so we're pretty sure she wrote them. They really make you thankful that we are alive today and not back in the day when medicine left so much to be desired. We really do have it good. Now, get ready to cry.

My Sick Baby --

This one, Dear God, of all you gave
Allow me still to keep;
The fevered hand I clutch, grows weaker,
For his pain has been too much.
If you will spare him, henceforth will I vow
To pledge my services as your own
-But now, It must be his,
I am the only crutch he has, to serve his needs.
And he is such a little thing!
Oh, hearken me some how.
The other children are so gay and strong
Can he not have his chance to be the same?
His innocence has done no breath of wrong.
Nor has he learned to play a single game.
Lord, who can hear the slightest sparrows song,
Have pity on my baby, In your name.

*******************************
Gone Away To Heaven

Just thinking, in a quiet house.
No tiny feet upon the stair
No sudden rush along the hall
No call of "Mama, are you there.

Just thinking. Not a thing to do.
No baby voice is heard today
No dirty little hands to wash
No broken toys to put away.

Just thinking. Everything in place
The little white crib is empty quite
And angel came and took
Our Billy away last night

Just thinking. It is twilight time
I hear the clock upon the stairs
Chime slowly till I've counted eight
Wonder - Did God hear my prayers?

******************************
My Baby's First Day In Heaven

Dear God, this is the first strange day for him
Among your shining cherubims
So please, Lord seek him out, and smile
And hold him on your knee awhile,
he is so small and maybe shy
Of stately angels in the sky
And when the little haloed boys and girls
play games with shrill bright noise
Oh, please make sure that they invite
My little Bill to play.

So...What Did You Do Fun Today?

2006-09-16T22:14:00.000-05:00

Today I watched the most amazing thing. A helicopter placed a spire on top of a new thirty-four story building that is being built just up the street from my office. I had to go take pictures. It was just amazing watching these guys work. How cool a job is doing this?

and this

AND VOILA!

They make it look so darn easy.

A New "Next of Kin"

2006-09-14T19:30:00.000-05:00

Well, it's now official and I can talk about it. Sprout is taking a wife. They are planning a wedding when he comes home for Christmas leave. This will be fun, especially since last Christmas was such a bummer for me since he was about a million miles from home. I must say, Sprout has chosen well. The two of them have dated since high school and I have secretly hoped that he would marry this one. Since he joined the Army, their relationship has been sort of on-again off-again. But I think surviving the last year apart from each other was a good lesson. While Sprout went to Korea, she went to Switzerland to be an au pair for a set of twins. Both of them suffered a lot of homesickness but I think they both did a whole lot of growing up. When Sprout was home this summer, the girlfriend was ~~glued~~ super-glued to his side. I should have seen it coming.

What all of this means is that I will no longer be his "next of kin". The only person I'll be the next of kin to is a man I don't share one iota of blood with. Well, we share everything else so I guess that counts the same as blood. It also means that I won't be the one receiving any "dreaded phone calls" (since we now know that Sprout's deployment over there is probably sooner than we care to think about and which I suspect has something to do with these sudden wedding plans). It also means that while he is over there, I probably won't hear his voice for about a year because his few phone calls home will go to Mrs. Sprout, as so they should. Thank God, she is good at taking notes and repeating things...not that she gossips, mind you. She always only deals in facts (it ain't gossip if it's true, is it?) And it means that FINALLY this family will have an equal number of males and females. For too many years I was the only rose among thorns. Now, with D-I-L #1 and D-I-L #2 and the Little General and me, we can take the guys on in a game of basketball or sumptin'. And it means that I will have a close female ally who, astoundingly, loves my son as much as I do. Someone that I can commiserate with and cry with while my child lives in a war zone straight out of the eighth century. I hope she is strong enough...I think she is.

So this upcoming holiday season will be one for the record books around here. We are planning a trip to see Sprout for Thanksgiving and then a Christmas-themed wedding...maybe Santa will be there...it don't get no better than this. For now, we will celebrate. Next year I will spend the year looking for Sprout an appropriate deployment tree to store away until Christmas (thanks for that idea, SoldierMom). Phew! Life around here just got a little bit crazy.

Congratulations young ones...I know you'll both be happy.

Mercery Responds

2006-09-12T19:07:00.000-05:00

I got this nice little note in email after posting my 9/11 tribute. This young lady sounds like such a sweet child and I just love her name.

"Thank you for everything Stoicmom (name has been changed to protect the guilty) i saw the blog its wonderful. You don't know how happy I was when i saw your blog.Again thank you for everything!

Another Funny Email

2006-08-29T21:52:00.000-05:00

I found this funny in my email today.

TEACHER ARRESTED...

NEW YORK - A public school teacher was arrested today at
John F. Kennedy International Airport as he attempted to
board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor,
a set square, a slide rule, and a calculator.

At a morning press conference, Attorney General Alberto
Gonzalez said he believes the man is a member of
the notorious Al-gebra movement. He did not identify
the man, who has been charged by the FBI with carrying
weapons of math instruction.

"Al-gebra is a problem for us," Gonzalez said. "They
desire solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes
go off on tangents in a search of absolute value. They
use secret code names like 'x' and 'y' and refer to
themselves as 'unknowns,' but we have determined they
belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval
with coordinates in every country. As the Greek
philanderer Isosceles used to say, 'There are 3 sides to
every triangle.'

When asked to comment on the arrest, President Bush said,
"If God had wanted us to have better Weapons of Math
Instruction, He would have given us more fingers and toes."
White House aides told reporters they could not recall a
more profound statement ever made by the president.

Happy Birthday to Us

2006-08-28T12:51:00.000-05:00

One year ago today, I posted this while we prepared for Hurricane Katrina AND I made a looooooooong distance call to Korea to tell Sprout "Happy Birthday". He told me the same...because...he was my 27th birthday present. One of my sisters sent me a birthday card that year that said "boy, you sure take birthdays literally".

So happy birthday, Sprout. You keep me young.

My Inebriated Modem

2006-08-24T20:57:00.000-05:00

I think my modem drinks. The last few days she has had some real trouble waking up in the mornings. I normally wake her up around 5:00 a.m. to log on and read the morning headlines while I have my toast and Diet Coke. The past couple of mornings I've had to resort to playing Solitaire because some little hussy stayed out all night. Today, she wasn't even awake when I came home at lunch. I am on the verge of trading her in for a sober model, but she works great in the evenings. It's like HELLO! Do you want to play? Come on...log on...log on...log on! I don't know. Maybe it's my cable connection but me thinks me modem drinks.

In other news, Sprout is still in the Army. I still can't post about his upcoming news, but soon, very soon. I'm trying not to post about him at all for fear of spilling beans but, seeing as how this blog is mainly about him I reckon I gotta mention him now and then. So there, he is mentioned.

Times, They Are A-Changing

2006-08-21T20:40:00.000-05:00

Since I'm on a nostalgia kick, here are a couple of "Yester-Year" articles that appeared in our local newspaper on this date, a long time ago.

Fri., Aug. 21, 1931

"Frank Gordy, a reporter for 'The Press,' was slapped in the face at city hall yesterday by James H. Webb, well-known attorney and counsel for the Mobile county seawall commission, as the culmination of references recently made to Mr. Webb in 'The Press.' ...Webb told Gordy that an article printed in 'The Press' was untrue and that Gordy was told it was untrue before it was given publication. The attorney then slapped the reporter in the face. Gordy did not retaliate and later Mr. Webb apologized to the reporter."

Boy, wouldn't you love to see that happen today? Whatever happened to good old fisticuffs?

Tues., Aug. 21, 1956

"A six-cent cut in the price of regular gasoline resulted Monday from a price war among five independent filling stations on the Mobile Bay Causeway. The price war started two weeks ago with the opening of a new service station on the causeway east of Mobile. It trimmed the price two cents a gallon and later reduced it four more cents. ... The five independents were selling regular gasoline for 23.9 cents a gallon, compared with 29.9 previously. ... Regular gasoline was cut to as low as 21.9 cents a gallon during a general price war on the causeway and in neighboring Baldwin County in September and October 1954."

What's really scary about this last article is that I can remember those gas prices.

OMG...Nostalgia

2006-08-19T21:46:00.000-05:00

I was digging through some old stuff today and came across a picture from my senior prom in the bottom of a box with a bunch of other mementos. It's still in the frame behind glass because the picture long ago got damp and is stuck to the glass. I pulled it out and sat it on the dining room table, planning later to try to work on prying it loose from the glass without too much damage. Stoicdad saw it and laughed and said "Who is that guy, Andre the Giant?" Yep, he was kind of tall but hey, I'm 5'0" so everybody is tall to me. We only went out a few times but he was a lot of fun. We danced really well together but the truth is, I only loved him for his tux.

Dig those groovy clothes.

Little General's First Day of School

2006-08-15T19:59:00.000-05:00

Well, she did it. The Little General went to school. From all reports, she did well. The teacher said she was just a little "chatty". Hmmmmm...wait til tomorrow, lady. I have a feeling this is going to be an interesting year. Her parents were asked to write anything about the child that they thought the teacher should know. Sir Duke wrote "She's the boss. Good Luck". Boy oh boy, I hope this teacher has a LOT of experience.

Here she is with Sgt. York. They have really grown this year. Time sure flies when you have grandkids.

El Cemetery of Suburbia

2006-08-13T09:04:00.000-05:00

I went to a funeral last week for a great-aunt of mine. She was buried in a neat little family cemetery that now sits in the center of suburbia. I've seen this little cemetery many times on my way out to the "west" part of town (for the past thirty years or so, our city has grown westerly and what was not so long ago farmland or forest is now Walgreens and Sonics).

I knew that some of my relatives were buried here. One of my great-aunts is related by marriage to the family that owns the cemetery. It's a well kept cemetery, though there is nothing ornate about it. It's surrounded by a chainlink fence with a sign that fronts a now heavily traveled four-lane thoroughfare. Until recently the sign bore the family's name...maybe Hurricane Katrina changed it...the sign now reads "EL CEMETERY"...only the last two letters of the family name still stand. What is unique about this cemetery, besides that fact that I recognize so many of the names on the tombstones, is that it sits so squarely in the middle of progress. We had to park our cars in a Rite Aid parking lot next door, if that tells you anything. The sound of traffic zooming by drowned out the words being spoken of the dearly departed.

The cemetery is no bigger than an acre or two and is only half filled. My ninety-year-old great-aunt who was there to bury the little sister she had raised from childhood, walked with me to her husbands grave (she's been a widow for forty years) naming off all the ones she knew on the way. "Everybody here is related, except for a grave back there by the fence for an old man who had no where else to go". "There's Liggie and there's Bully, and that spot is for me" she said, pointing at the empty space next to her husband.

The family once owned all this land so far outside of town and they were plain old country folk, farmers and carpenters. Most of them still are plain old country folk, though not many farmers in the crowd. Mostly shrimpers, mechanics, heavy equipment operators...good old boys. They are a family of men without much book smarts but with a whole lot of physical strength and grit. The kind of men that build the suburbia surrounding this graveyard. The kind of men you want to fight your wars. Rednecks I suppose, though around here that title does not mean someone ignorant and stupid. It means someone hardworking and honorable...who happens to enjoy life on the weekends.

Until about fifteen years ago, an old church that the family had built stood next to the cemetery but it was torn down to make way for progress. Today I would guess at least 10,000 cars pass by this place every day going to and from work, many of them wondering why there is a cemetery sitting smack-dab in between a pharmacy and a fast food restaurant. I doubt many of those people know that the people buried in this simple little graveyard are the very souls who cultivated the land and built the roads they now live and work on.

I hate funerals but I did enjoy visiting this cemetery I have so often passed by but only once before, as a child, had visited. Knowing that some things stay the same even as the world changes around them is nice. I'm guessing that El Cemetery will be around for a long, long time.

The 2996 Project

2006-08-09T20:15:00.000-05:00

Fellow bloggers. Here's your chance to remind the world of why we are at war. The 2996 Project is trying to sign up 2996 bloggers to agree to post an article on their blog about one victim of the 9/11 terrorist attacks in our country and to do this on the fifth anniversary of the attacks, this coming September 11, 2006. It's a neat way to remind ourselves why our young soldiers are fighting to keep us free in foreign lands so far away.

When you sign up, you receive an email with a randomly selected name of one of the victims of the attacks. You get a short bio of the victim and links to search engines for more information. It's easy and it should be interesting. I have already searched for info on my assigned name and have even had an email interview with his young daughter. This seems like a worthwhile cause...at least it will be on my blog.

Check out the links on my sidebar if you think you might want to sign up. Who knows? We might all learn something.

Yard Work and the English Language

2006-07-30T12:15:00.000-05:00

Sprout is still liking his new post. Hey, it's in America. He has some big changes coming up, some I'm not allowed to talk about just yet, but soon, very soon. He is doing well and I am happy for him. He did get smoked (military discipline i.e. pushups, crawls, etc.) for two hours last week for a minor infraction that could be deadly in the right situation. Thanks to the Army, he won't make that mistake again. Other than that, he and Uncle Sam are getting along pretty well.

I got up this Sunday morning and went out and edged the yard that Stoicdad had so beautifully cut yesterday in this fine tropical heat heaven we live in. The humidity here is so thick you can ship it. I swear I have to take a spoon to dig my way out to the car some mornings, it's that thick.

Anyway, I used the weedeater to do my edging. I never let Stoicdad edge...he is not precise enough. I've seen him edge. His edging more resembles a moat then an outline. Our gas edger gave out two summers ago and I have learned to edge with a Black and Decker Grasshog weedeater and I love it. But I have run into a slight dilemma when discussing yard-work with others. Maybe someone out there knows the answer to this - what is the past tense of the word "weedeat"? Is it "weedate"? "Wedate"? "Weedeated"? Somebody must know. If you do know, please tell me. I don't want to have to go back to the gas-edger on an english language technicality. Anybody?