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.
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Monday, August 18, 2008
Birthday Boxes
Sprout's birthday box is in the mail. Since I can't send him a birthday cake, I am sending him a birthday Tootsie Roll instead. One of those big ones that takes all day to eat. I'm sure he will just love it.
In other news, I have been reading Atlas Shrugged since the middle of May when I begin reading it while Stoicdad was having this done...
I'm beginning to wonder if I am the only person who has read this book just for fun and not as a college requirement. Man, it is a long book. But it's really good. I only get to read it on my lunch hour and sometimes at night, but I am only about 150 pages from the end and I am determined to finish. I feel like I have been serving a prison sentence being tied to this book for so long. But I can't stop reading it. It is that good. It's a novel about the world collapsing under socialism and it is kind of scary. It really makes you think about our world today. Anyway, I am 3 pages into a speech that I've been told goes on for 75 pages. I guess I should be reading and not writing right now.
Oh, the heck with it. Who is John Galt?
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?
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Immortalized on Google
This is weird. I was just checking out Google Maps and looking at our house in the street-view. If you haven't checked out Google Maps and looked at the street-view, you need to go now and look at it. You just enter your address in the box and click on search. Then you click on street-view and you can scroll down your street and get a 360 degree view of the entire street. I would post the link here but I don't really want to splash my address around, not that I don't think everybody out in Internetland is perfectly nice, but you never know Hey! I found a way to post the picture from Google without broadcasting my address.
What's weird is that it is so dated. I could probably narrow down the exact day the picture was taken if I really tried. I know that it was most likely on a Tuesday because the trash cans are out and Tuesday is trash day although sometimes they come on Wednesday. And it was in December because my door is decorated for Christmas and I know it was this PAST December in 2007 because there is a yellow ribbon on the door and a sign in my yard that I put up for Sprout that says "Support Our Troops"
Here's a nighttime picture of the same sign.
Wow, I don't know how often Google can afford to update the street-view pictures...I doubt it will be very often, so Sprout's time in Iraq is sort of immortalized on Google. How cool is that?
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?
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
My Own Little Scullery Maid
The Little General cooked dinner for us the other night, even peeling the potatoes by herself. I couldn't help but snap a picture of her working so seriously.
"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.
Proverbs 22:6
"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.
Proverbs 22:6
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
An Empty Nest Is An Awful Thing
About 2 months ago, we REALLY became empty-nesters. In the same week, our cat disappeared and we had to put our 12 year old dog down. We really were empty. No kids, no pets...nothing.
So I went out and did something really crazy. I got us a kitten.
Meet Ping. Her middle name is Pong. She is a hoot. It's been a while since I've had a kitten and I forget how wild they are. This one may take some getting used to. I hated that we lost Sprout's cat while he was gone but I have sent him pictures of this monster and I hope he approves. He will...he's a pushover for a small, furry animal. My Mama always said that the reason God made baby creatures so cute was so that you wouldn't kill them when they got really annoying. It's a good thing Ping is cute because she is really annoying. I have so many wounds on my arms from her "love-bites" that I'm beginning to look like a war vet.
Anyway, Sprout is still "over there". He's on the downhill side but still has a ways to go and a long hot summer before it's over. How will we ever be able to show him how grateful we are? How do you thank someone for a gift so immense? How do you say "I love you" to someone who has DONE "I love you" on such a massive scale?
How can it be that I am so blessed?
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?
Thursday, June 26, 2008
MY OLD JOB
I just had to steal another sister poem...only this one is not from my usual poet sister. This one is from ANOTHER sister who, apparently, has a writing gene too.
She wrote this one after sitting outside enjoying the summer breeze and a cigarette to calm her nerves while on a break from her usual 12-hour shift as an Emergency Medical Dispatcher. She had just been standing by on the phone with a man who was having a heart attack and listening in as the paramedics worked on the man who was more concerned about leaving his dog alone than he was about his failing heart.
MY OLD JOB
On a day like to today, I wish I had my old job back.
The job I had when I was seven years old.
My office was at Hannon Park.
My morning commute consisted of heading down Semmes Avenue, crossing Dauphin Street, then cutting through the synagogue parking lot and the only road hazards or detours were my bare-feet dodging the blacktop for the cool grass on the shoulder of the road.
I wish my wardrobe consisted of nothing but a bathing suit
with a towel draped around my shoulders and uncombed hair.
I wish my biggest health concern today were watching out
for stickers in the grass as I walk across the park to the wading pool.
I wish my power-lunch for today was a Fudgesicle bought
from the ice cream truck and water sipped from a concrete water fountain.
I wish my biggest disappointment today was that Mrs. Brooks
(the park lady) had already handed the “Candy-Land” game
out to some other kid.
I wish my goal for today was to be able to hold my breath
under water longer than the other kids.
The only committee I wish to be on today is the one whose project
is to make a giant whirlpool by swimming around and around
and around and around the pool with a bunch of other kids.
The only dare I really want to take is how high I can go on the swings
or if I can open my eyes under water.
The only workout I want to do is pushing the seesaw
off the ground on my end and having my best friend return the favor.
The only worldly possession I would care to have today is my own pair of goggles.
The only fortune I’d care to amass would be the coins we tossed
on the bottom of the pool and found over and over again.
I wish my commute home today consisted of walking home with sunburned shoulders and cheeks and the feel of a wet towel draped around my neck.
On a day like today I wish I were heading home,
hungry and exhausted with a hot meal waiting
and a free pass on the bath tonight.
I wish I could fall asleep to the hum of an attic fan
and dream of doing it all over again tomorrow.
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.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Gone Again
R & R has come and gone. Sprout is very well and was happy to be back in the States. He seemed to be enjoying himself a lot. By the time I got to see him, his wife had him chilling out and relaxed and smiling and I was glad. The grandkids and I drove over to spend a couple of days and he did the sight-seeing thing with us. Stoicdad was laid up with a brand new knee so Sprout had to make a trip here to see him. Sproutette was never more than two feet away from him or him from her. He played with the kids, especially Sgt. York who thinks Sprout is a super-hero. We went to the aquarium and he even showed the kids a "haunted house" right up the street from where they were staying. The kids loved looking into the haunted mailbox, but the Little General put her foot down when it came to going up on the haunted porch. Sprout got a kick out of that. He seems none the worse for wear and yet, he is not the boy I sent to the Army. He's a man. The days went by much too fast and I slept better then I have slept in a while. Sproutette fixed us dinner one night and I so enjoyed standing at the sink washing dishes and listening to them all laughing together in the next room. A happy soldier is a safe soldier.
And sadly, Sproutette once again kissed him good-bye, hugged him like she couldn't let go and put him on a plane that would take him half a world away. I don't know how military spouses do it. And if the parting at the airport is not enough, there is always that long drive home from the airport, alone. And unlocking the front door to another empty house. But at least it's all downhill from here and as Sprout put it, poking fun at the fly boys, "I'm just an Air Force deployment away from being done". (For those who don't know, the Air Force deploys to Iraq for six months at a time, the Army for fifteen). Anyway, I guess Shakespeare knew what he was talking about when he wrote:
"Good-night, good-night. Parting is such sweet sorrow, ere I say good-night till it be morrow".
Waking up in Uncle Sprout's shirt.
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.
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