We spend the first twelve months of our children's lives teaching them to walk and talk and the next twelve telling them to sit down and shut up.
Phyllis Diller
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Painted Floor
THIS IS WILD!
How would you like to open the bathroom door and see this....
The floor is just a painted floor but it kinda takes your breath away doesn't it? This would really mess with your mind! You might even forget why you came to the bathroom!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Friday Mornings at the Pentagon
My friend "Tennesseegrandaddy" has added a new section to his blog called Support our Troops. I have had the following article for some time now and just wanted to pass it along. We need to be reminded every single day of our boys and girls in this war fighting for and dying for our freedom. We need to remember those that are back home and hurting physically and or mentally and now are trying to live their lives with some measure of normalcy. Thank you "Tennesseegrandaddy" for adding this section to your blog.
Friday Mornings at the Pentagon
By JOSEPH L. GALLOWAY
It is 110 yards from the "E" ring to the "A" ring of the Pentagon. This section of the Pentagon is newly renovated; the floors shine, the hallway is broad, and the lighting is bright. At this instant the entire length of the corridor is packed with officers, a few sergeants and some civilians, all crammed tightly three and four deep against the walls. There are thousands here.This hallway, more than any other, is the `Army' hallway. The G3 offices line one side, G2 the other, G8 is around the corner. All Army. Moderate conversations flow in a low buzz. Friends who may not have seen each other for a few weeks, or a few years, spot each other, cross the way and renew.Everyone shifts to ensure an open path remains down the center. The air conditioning system was not designed for this press of bodies in this area.The temperature is rising already. Nobody cares. "10:36 hours: The clapping starts at the E-Ring. That is the outermost of the five rings of the Pentagon and it is closest to the entrance to the building. This clapping is low, sustained, hearty. It is applause with a deep emotion behind it as it moves forward in a wave down the length of the hallway."A steady rolling wave of sound it is, moving at the pace of the soldier in the wheelchair who marks the forward edge with his presence. He is the first. He is missing the greater part of one leg, and some of his wounds are still suppurating. By his age I expect that he is a private, or perhaps a private first class."Captains, majors, lieutenant colonels and colonels meet his gaze and nod as they applaud, soldier to soldier. Three years ago when I described one of these events, those lining the hallways were somewhat different. The applause a little wilder, perhaps in private guilt for not having shared in the burden ... yet."Now almost everyone lining the hallway is, like the man in the wheelchair, also a combat veteran. This steadies the applause, but I think deepens the sentiment. We have all been there now. The soldier's chair is pushed by, I believe, a full colonel."Behind him, and stretching the length from Rings E to A, come more of his peers, each private, corporal, or sergeant assisted as need be by a field grade officer."11:00 hours: Twenty-four minutes of steady applause. My hands hurt, and I laugh to myself at how stupid that sounds in my own head. My hands hurt. Please! Shut up and clap. For twenty-four minutes, soldier after soldier has come down this hallway - 20, 25, 30. Fifty-three legs come with them, and perhaps only 52 hands or arms, but down this hall came 30 solid hearts.They pass down this corridor of officers and applause, and then meet for a private lunch, at which they are the guests of honor, hosted by the generals. Some are wheeled along. Some insist upon getting out of their chairs, to march as best they can with their chin held up, down this hallway, through this most unique audience. Some are catching handshakes and smiling like a politician at a Fourth of July parade. More than a couple of them seem amazed and are smiling shyly."There are families with them as well: the 18-year-old war-bride pushing her 19-year-old husband's wheelchair and not quite understanding why her husband is so affected by this, the boy she grew up with, now a man, who had never shed a tear is crying; the older immigrant Latino parents who have, perhaps more than their wounded mid-20s son, an appreciation for the emotion given on their son's behalf. No man in that hallway, walking or clapping, is ashamed by the silent tears on more than a few cheeks. An Airborne Ranger wipes his eyes only to better see. A couple of the officers in this crowd have themselves been a part of this parade in the past.These are our men, broken in body they may be, but they are our brothers, and we welcome them home. This parade has gone on, every single Friday, all year long, for more than four years."
Did you know that?
The media hasn't yet told the story."
Friday Mornings at the Pentagon
By JOSEPH L. GALLOWAY
It is 110 yards from the "E" ring to the "A" ring of the Pentagon. This section of the Pentagon is newly renovated; the floors shine, the hallway is broad, and the lighting is bright. At this instant the entire length of the corridor is packed with officers, a few sergeants and some civilians, all crammed tightly three and four deep against the walls. There are thousands here.This hallway, more than any other, is the `Army' hallway. The G3 offices line one side, G2 the other, G8 is around the corner. All Army. Moderate conversations flow in a low buzz. Friends who may not have seen each other for a few weeks, or a few years, spot each other, cross the way and renew.Everyone shifts to ensure an open path remains down the center. The air conditioning system was not designed for this press of bodies in this area.The temperature is rising already. Nobody cares. "10:36 hours: The clapping starts at the E-Ring. That is the outermost of the five rings of the Pentagon and it is closest to the entrance to the building. This clapping is low, sustained, hearty. It is applause with a deep emotion behind it as it moves forward in a wave down the length of the hallway."A steady rolling wave of sound it is, moving at the pace of the soldier in the wheelchair who marks the forward edge with his presence. He is the first. He is missing the greater part of one leg, and some of his wounds are still suppurating. By his age I expect that he is a private, or perhaps a private first class."Captains, majors, lieutenant colonels and colonels meet his gaze and nod as they applaud, soldier to soldier. Three years ago when I described one of these events, those lining the hallways were somewhat different. The applause a little wilder, perhaps in private guilt for not having shared in the burden ... yet."Now almost everyone lining the hallway is, like the man in the wheelchair, also a combat veteran. This steadies the applause, but I think deepens the sentiment. We have all been there now. The soldier's chair is pushed by, I believe, a full colonel."Behind him, and stretching the length from Rings E to A, come more of his peers, each private, corporal, or sergeant assisted as need be by a field grade officer."11:00 hours: Twenty-four minutes of steady applause. My hands hurt, and I laugh to myself at how stupid that sounds in my own head. My hands hurt. Please! Shut up and clap. For twenty-four minutes, soldier after soldier has come down this hallway - 20, 25, 30. Fifty-three legs come with them, and perhaps only 52 hands or arms, but down this hall came 30 solid hearts.They pass down this corridor of officers and applause, and then meet for a private lunch, at which they are the guests of honor, hosted by the generals. Some are wheeled along. Some insist upon getting out of their chairs, to march as best they can with their chin held up, down this hallway, through this most unique audience. Some are catching handshakes and smiling like a politician at a Fourth of July parade. More than a couple of them seem amazed and are smiling shyly."There are families with them as well: the 18-year-old war-bride pushing her 19-year-old husband's wheelchair and not quite understanding why her husband is so affected by this, the boy she grew up with, now a man, who had never shed a tear is crying; the older immigrant Latino parents who have, perhaps more than their wounded mid-20s son, an appreciation for the emotion given on their son's behalf. No man in that hallway, walking or clapping, is ashamed by the silent tears on more than a few cheeks. An Airborne Ranger wipes his eyes only to better see. A couple of the officers in this crowd have themselves been a part of this parade in the past.These are our men, broken in body they may be, but they are our brothers, and we welcome them home. This parade has gone on, every single Friday, all year long, for more than four years."
Did you know that?
The media hasn't yet told the story."
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Chad At Work
These are the zebra fish that Chad breeds for the experiments he is doing at the University of North Carolina. He has one on the computer screen that he has injected with a dye to see the gut.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Laugh Today
As you get older three things happen. The first is your memory goes, and I can't remember the other two ...
50th Wedding Anniversary
Dad, Mom, sisters Sara and Pam, Me, and my brother John. Dad and Moms cake
In July Mark and I went home to Wisconsin to celebrate my parents 50th Wedding Anniversary. We had the party at this quaint little place in my hometown of Downsville called The Creamery. http://www.creameryrestaurant-inn.com/ What I remember as a rundown building overrun with weeds is now one of Wisconsin's best dining experiences. This in a town of about 200. Wow! You definitely won't see any of the fast food establishments or any wild attractions but if you want to get back to nature and get "back to Mayberry" this is the perfect place. Here are a few links to other wonderful sights in and around Downsville. Empire in Pine Museum http://discover-net.net/~dchs/siteep.html , Downsvilles own website http://www.discoverdownsvillewi.com/ , Caddie Woodlawn Park http://discover-net.net/~dchs/sitecw.html.
Downsville-a wonderful place to visit and a great place to have grown up.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
The Day Before Tomorrow
The Day Before Tomorrow
The day before tomorrow
Is a very special day
And I feel that I should live it
In a happy kind of way...
Tomorrow's so mysterious
That I really can't foresee
The things that might be happening
And the way that life might be
But the Day Before Tomorrow
That's quite a different thing...
Those hours are so much closer
I can guess what they might bring...
I'd rather be a sparrow
Or a lily of the field
And just wait til God's will for me
Is finally revealed...
I'll put aside the griefs and cares --
The trouble I won't borrow
And just be glad I'm living in
The Day Before Tomorrow!
AuthorJean Kyler McManus
Thinking about my children today
Today I've been thinking so much about my children. Of course I think about them every day but sometimes you just have days that you think back when they were little children. I remember Chad used to love to build forts out in the back yard. He would be out there just building away and talking to himself. He'd say "Mommy, come look at my fort", then go on about how everything in it worked. If the weather was bad he'd have forts in the basement made out of all kinds of things from the big radio flyer wagon to daddy's shop vac. It was amazing to watch as the work in progress took place. Different objects added here and there and then walla the finished product.
Sarah was always the one that would be performing. She loved to dance, sing, act and all for the benefit of whoever would watch. She loved to be outside and at the neighbors. I remember a time that she wanted to roller blade downstairs like she was in the Olympics. She put on her little pink tutu and her big clunky roller blades, had me do her hair and she was all set. Well this was quite a feat as our basement was not very big and there was all kinds of stuff everywhere. She made do though and had me record her as she "ice-skated" her way to the Gold.
Oh, those were the days. I love to think back on them. Sometimes I see that little boy or girl looking up at mommy or daddy and my heart melts. But, life goes on and we're grateful for that and the fact that they are now grown and working yet at their dreams.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Thoughts on Negativity
Avoid destructive thinking. Improper negative thoughts sink people. A ship can sail around the world many, many times, but just let enough water get into the ship and it will sink. Just so with the human mind. Let enough negative thoughts or improper thoughts get into the human mind and the person sinks just like a ship.
People deal too much with the negative, with what is wrong. Why not try and see positive things, to just touch those things and make them bloom?
Monday, September 17, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Graduation Pictures of my Dad and Mom
Just wanted to add these pictures to my blog as they are two of my favorites. Dad and Mom went to High School in Durand, Wisconsin back in the 50's. Aren't they handsome!!http://www.durand.k12.wi.us/dhs/
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Mark and Lisa at Emerald Isle
This was taken the evening we arrived at the beach. We were so anxious to see the beach we went and found a public access and walked to enjoy the ocean and surrounding scenery. I think the ocean is the most beautiful sight.
I am reminded as I look out over the ocean that it is God that is keeping it in bounds. We are so fortunate to be serving a living God and that we can see so much of His love and creation daily.
Hammocks Beach State Park
September 5th we took a mini vacation to North Carolina. For almost 25 years we have been going to Hammocks Beach State Park. It is a lovely place to go for a private day at the beach. Being right on the intracoastal waterway makes it beautiful and secluded. You must take a barge over to Bear Island and on the way you may see dolphins, egrets, turtles and much more. http://www.ils.unc.edu/parkproject/visit/habe/home.html
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