High School - Get A Grip On Yourselves And Give My Son A Grip To Hold On To!

Video Sharing at DropShots.com I am really angry tonight, about this immigration bill proposed, and the protests against it have finally hit me right at home. It has come to my city, and directly to my son’s high school. I am so fortunate that I have two amazing sons. My oldest son is more compassionate, and shares my business mind and the technological side of me. He’s 22 and works for me full time now. So many days he teaches me something, or I’m amazed by our like-mindedness when it comes to our business. My youngest son is quite a history buff, and shares the rebel southern political side of me. If it’s not enough that this proposed immigration bill that would make it a felony to be illegal in this country should be a “no-brainer”, now they have hit home here in Reno. I have been to several parent-conference meetings over the years because of my youngest son’s bull-headedness, (usually he’s right, but just against the political correct faction of his various grade levels over the years) but today I agree. There will be no parent conference this time (he’s grown older and more responsible), but I agree with him. We generally are watching news and sitting on the couch while he does homework...and today a story came on again over the growing protest about this bill. He had very convicting opinions about his disconcert over the handling of the reaction of some of his classmates. I couldn’t believe what he told me, and now I must rant. I did not even know that the protests had reached the budding youth of my city, but it has. Over 700, YES, DID YOU READ RIGHT...YES 700 Washoe county STUDENTS...of middle school and high school age, have walked out of school to join the local street marching protests of this bill. Now, does it surprise me that the local youth would walk out of school to join a protest? NO, students will do just about anything for an excuse NOT to go to class sometimes. My beef is with the school administration. My son has a close friend that is a student aide in the office, and while his group of friends were bitching among themselves about how STUPID they think these protests are, and how they CANNOT BELIEVE that students, some not even old enough to drive could manage to get out of school and get to the protest sites...even went to something so degrading to the way we believe as true Americans...BUT... Guess What? These freaking kids who don’t even have the age or experience to really KNOW what this is all about GOT EXCUSED ABSENCES FOR THEIR MISSED CLASSES. Yes, my son’s high school in a well respected district in this city GAVE PROTESTING STUDENTS EXCUSED ABSENCES for their time missed for a protest. Now granted, this doesn't agree with the published news story, but how often do we see in our adult world that the media doesn't report the true facts. I believe that this kid in the office REALLY knows that the absences were excused, while the linked news article leads to a vague explanation of the truth. The schools do not want any heat from either side of the fence. I am quite frankly appalled, and cannot believe that the leaders and teachers we entrust our children to for 6 to 8 hours per day could possibly take that “politically correct” stance. For God’s sake people, if we don’t stand for something, we will fall for anything. That is totally the direction our school systems have taken in the past few years. ALL of those students should have been EXPELLED or at least have been given DETENTION for their actions. My son can’t even get away with being late after lunch.

Customs Officials Suffer From Case Of The Smuggler's Blues

Video Sharing at DropShots.com If this story won’t change the minds of all those against the proposed immigration bill that passed the floor of its committee, I don’t know what will. The Feds were able to smuggle enough radioactive material to produce two “dirty bombs” across TWO American border sites in Texas and Washington. The attempt to cross even set off the radioactive material detectors at the border, but customs agents allowed the men to cross by their realistic looking documentation that was actually counterfeit. This time, it was a sting operation by Federal Agents, but if we do not get control of our borders, this type of thing will happen for real soon, and the results could be devastating! I would imagine the customs officials at the two border crossings are suffering from a bad case of the “Smuggler’s Blues” :)

Tater People

Did you know that you have lots of “Tater” people in your life? Yes, we all do. Click on this funny little link and check out the Tater Folks. Enjoy.

Stress Management

Video Sharing at DropShots.com Stress Management A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked, "How heavy is this glass of water?" Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it." "If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance. In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes." He continued, "And that's the way it is with stress management. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on. As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden." "So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down. Don't carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you're carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can. Relax; pick them up later after you've rested. Life is short. Enjoy it!" And then he shared some ways of dealing with the burdens of life: 1. Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue. 2. Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them. 3. Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker. 4. Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on. 5. Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance. 6. Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late. 7. The second mouse gets the cheese. 8. When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane. 9. Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live. 10. You may be only one person in the world to some people, but to one person, you may be the world. 11. We could learn a lot from crayons. Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. 12. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box. 13. A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour. “Author Unknown”

Illegal Entry Into This Country SHOULD BE A FELONY

Video Sharing at DropShots.com An estimated 500,000 people protested in the streets of LA, and other thousands protest in other cities across the country against the proposed legislation that would make it a felony to be in the USA illegally. I agree that our immigrant workers are a part of our society, but there are ways to let them be here legally. It SHOULD be a felony to be in this country without proper entry. If we do not take immediate action to better protect our borders and the people already here that ARE legal citizens, we will be in dire straits later on. Teddy Roosevelt had the right idea in this excerpt from a letter he wrote on January 3, 1919 (just three days before he died) to the president of the American Defense Society. Video Sharing at DropShots.com "In the first place, we should insist that if the immigrant who comes here in good faith becomes an American and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin. But this is predicated upon the person's becoming in every facet an American, and nothing but an American...There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn't an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag... We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language... and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that is a loyalty to the American people."

Texas Cops Arrest People INSIDE Bars

Video Sharing at DropShots.com I am shocked at this story. In additional coverage, Fox news tonight ran a blurb about the fact that TABC agents (Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission) have arrested approximately 2000 people INSIDE BARS for being drunk. This is flat crazy, and I agree with Texas Fred at Ace In The Hole about the outrageous nature of this new development. I know that many people PLAN their nights out and take a bus, taxi, or limo to their watering hole of choice, never planning to attempt to drive home. There is NO LAW against twisting off; in fact at times it’s quite therapeutic. These cops have even arrested traveling hotel patrons inside the bars INSIDE the hotel they’re staying in who have no intention, or any way to drive if they wanted to. The outrage is growing in Texas, and I must join the disgruntled citizens. This is wrong and a bad attempt to line the local tax coffers.

Artist Draws A Woman From The Inside Out

Video Sharing at DropShots.com Pelourinho.com is an English-Brazilian website. However, from within that site, I was sent this really cool link in which an artist draws a woman from the INSIDE OUT. It's kind of cool, enjoy.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

Video Sharing at DropShots.com I think we are all moved whenever we see a rainbow. I know I am for sure, and I always think of God and His majestic handiwork on the creation of Earth every time I see one. Just recently I saw my first ever “double” rainbow while driving into Reno. I was sent this link, and wanted to share. I am using the link to this web page rather than posting directly due to the author’s request not to reproduce the photos without permission. These are amazing photos of a rainbow taken in McFall, Missouri. His captions are interesting and it’s definitely worth a look. A peaceful way to start or finish your day.

Amazing HEROES Truck

Patriotism is on everyone’s minds lately, and it’s always interesting to see how individuals choose to show their own patriotic emotions. I found the photos of this “Heroes” truck quite amazing. This guy went a bit over the top, but what amazing artwork and showmanship. I was also amused that I was intrigued by the amazing detail of the art, and was looking intently to see all the pictures within the pictures…and while I shared the pictures with my teenage son…he was gawking and commenting on the AWESOME King lift kit for off-road, the massive amounts of chrome, and the fiberglass dashboard and TV’s in the interior. Boys will be boys yeah? :) Enjoy the picture essay. Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com

Smoking Very Dangerous - Don't "Fall" For It

Video Sharing at DropShots.com I don't know how they make these little videos look so real. Check out this 25 second video that will make you think twice before going to a smoking balcony again in a high rise building.

The Green Green Grass Of Home

Video Sharing at DropShots.com With the onset of Operation Swarmer, continued violence in Iraq, and troubles brewing in yet other foreign countries, it continues to remind us how we wish these times of war did not have to happen. It also reminds me that without the brave men and women that serve our country, we would have no more freedom to fight for. I received this touching story, and wanted to share. The photo above is of an average soldier in Iraq, stationed in the world’s largest sandbox. He asked his wife to send him some US soil, fertilizer, and grass seed so that he could plant some grass and smell the sweet aroma of the green, green grass of home. His piece of heaven in his sand box outside his tent continues to remind him of home and what he is fighting for. When the men and women of his squadron go out on a mission, they all walk across his USA lawn, stepping on American soil for good luck. I wish all our service men and women blessings and good fortune during these hard times, and the third anniversary of our war. Keep the fight, and God Speed.

Simply Put - A Believer's Understanding Of War

Video Sharing at DropShots.com "Simply Put" Cindy Sheehan asked President Bush, "Why did my son have to die in Iraq?" Another mother asked President Johnson, "Why did my son have to die in Vietnam?" Another mother asked President Truman, "Why did my son have to die in Korea? Another mother asked President F.D. Roosevelt, "Why did my son have to die at Iwo Jima?" Another mother asked President W. Wilson, "Why did my son have to die on the battlefield of France?" Yet another mother asked President Lincoln, "Why did my son have to die at Gettysburg?" And yet another mother asked President G. Washington, "Why did my son have to die near Valley Forge?" Then long, long ago, a mother asked, "Heavenly Father, why did my Son have to die on a cross outside of Jerusalem?" The answers to all these are similar-- that others may have life and dwell in peace, happiness and freedom.

Redneck Women - Funny Video

Video Sharing at DropShots.com I KNOW I have more class than most of these women, but a fluff, I'm not. I had to laugh at this so hard, because but for the grace of God, here go I...maybe sometimes. Funny video, enjoy

Is There A Stranger In Your House?

Video Sharing at DropShots.com Another e-mail I must share. I was fascinated by this story and the tale of someone just like me. I'm not sure I could have written this any better, or if I could live without the stranger in my house...sad but true. How about you? A few months before I was born in the early 1950's, my Dad met a stranger who was new to our small town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family. The stranger was quickly accepted and was around to welcome me into the world a few months later. As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind, he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors: Mom taught me the word of God, and Dad taught me to obey it. But the stranger? He was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies. If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped talking, but Dad didn't seem to mind. Sometimes Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to her room and read her books. (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to leave.) Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the stranger never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was not allowed in our home ... not from us, our friends or any visitors. Our longtime visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush. My Dad was a teetotaler who didn't permit alcohol in the home, not even for cooking. But the stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes look cool, cigars manly and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (much too freely) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing. I now know that my early concepts about relationships were influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked ... and NEVER asked to leave. More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with our family. He has blended right in and is not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you were to walk into my parents' den today you would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures. His name? We just call him...TV. Author Unknown

Veena Vadini School - Amazing & Ambidextrous

Video Sharing at DropShots.com WOW! Talk about talented… all 72 students at the Veena Vadini School at Singrauli in Madhya Pradesh, India (a school for four to eight year olds) are ambidextrous. That being amazing enough…these kids take it to the amazing limit. These kids can write with both hands at the same time, and not only that…they can write different things in two different languages with both hands at the same time. Most of these kids know 6 languages. I’m afraid I would have received an “F” in this class :) However, for those that care… I can write in simple print on a chalkboard with my left hand (I am right handed). This is my limit of being ambidextrous.

Snow Day Turns Into Middle School Shooting

Video Sharing at DropShots.com The “Columbine” scenario finally came to Reno. Tragically, there was a shooting yesterday at Pine Middle School in Reno. While, this middle school is not in the best part of town, there is really no part of this city where this would have been a suspected event. The young man responsible was only 14 years old, and is being held in jail as an adult charged with attempted murder among other charges. Thank God, the two eighth graders who were injured are fine. One young man was shot in the shoulder and chest, but later released, and one young lady had a superficial wound. This all happened on a day that was delayed by an hour due to a snow storm in the area. Wow…snow days used to be just for fun. What is our world coming to?

Russ Feingold - Scary Choice For Democratic Nomination

Video Sharing at DropShots.com Senator Russell Feingold of Wisconsin has been considered by some to be a possible Democratic presidential candidate for 2008. This guy definitely scares me a bit. He is very opposed to the death penalty, and was the lone senator to vote against the renewal of the Patriot Act. His latest stunt is to put out a call for a formal censure of President George W. Bush. Only one president in the history of the USA has ever been censured, and that was Andrew Jackson in 1834. In later years, his censure was removed from the record. Mr. Feingold feels that Mr. Bush’s wiretapping of possible terrorist radicals is just cause for this censure. I think this guy is a big shit stirrer, and should be watched very closely and not allowed to win a Democratic party nomination under any circumstances.

Google Gaining On Bill Gates?

Oh My…is Google tugging at the coattail of Bill Gates? Once again, I think this is one of those stocks I should have purchased when it came out at tiny dollars. Like Yahoo, or AOL…these are possible retirement stocks if you got in when it was all new. Oh well, must continue to work another 10 years or so :) This is an interesting article on the new acquisitions (or possible purchases by) of Google, called Upstartle and Slashdot. Sounds like two options I would use daily. Interesting read…Google is on the hunt again. I already use many of the Google products daily, I would be happy to add a couple more.

Chris Bliss - AMAZING Juggling Video

If you appreciate AMAZING juggling, you MUST SEE Chris Bliss. This video is about four and one-half minutes long, but well worth the view. He looks a bit like Fonzi to me, and the act is set to the music of Paul McCartney’s Lullaby...that song in itself is worth listening to :) Enjoy! chris bliss

The Windmill Of My Mind

Video Sharing at DropShots.com Only one post tonight, a long one “Sentimental Saturday”. Another “grab a cocktail”, settle in and read novelettes. One of my readers who proposed to his beautiful wife underneath a windmill inspired these memories. Thank You. The photo above is the typical image most people have in their minds when they think of a peaceful country spread. I have always loved photographs of farmhouses, barns, and windmills. It is no doubt because I grew up in one, played in many, and cherished the windmill on the farm that was my home for 20 years. Although dirt poor, eking out a mere existence on a 160 acre cotton farm just outside Colorado City, TX, days spent there were the happiest in all my lifetime. These photos were taken just a couple of years ago when I was back home for my adopted mother’s funeral. Yes, I too was chosen…chosen to be raised by people older than my grandparents. Mama Ann and Papa Bill… the two toughest and orneriest hard core Christian elders ever to grace the great state of Texas. The old farm has changed, so my descriptions of the pictures will not be visually accurate from these photos, but rest assured I will give you the true visual description of each one in all its West Texas glory. Video Sharing at DropShots.com The old farmhouse. Picture a beautiful green luscious lawn surrounding the entire property with huge Sycamore trees and brightly blooming roses and deep green waxy bushes. Along the dirt driveway that seemed so long was a gorgeous tall lilac bush that stretched a quarter way down the road (between the two huge trees still in the picture) and was probably 6 feet tall on a trellis. Intermingled with the bright purple lilacs were vivid green honeysuckle bushes laden with sweet smelling blooms. Us kids used to pull the blooms and suck the honey out of the flowers for hours on end and place the lilacs in our hair that was so long it almost touched our butts. A highlight of each day was to ride the bicycle (yes, THE bicycle…one for the whole family) down the long driveway to the mailbox that sat on the other side of the road at the end. Mail in those days was scarce in a rural community, so even the local paper that only came two days a week, or the new Montgomery Ward catalog was a treat. A real letter from someone would make your whole month! Your address was something like Route 3, Box 365 / Colorado City, TX 79512. Our phone number when I was really young was two letters and four numbers…something like BS3456. It was a party line…meaning all the neighbors in the community (ours had 8) were on the same line. If someone else in the neighborhood was talking on the phone, you could pick up the phone in your house and hear every word. You don’t know how many times my mama put the belt to my ass for getting busted listening in on the other old bitties in the area gossip on the phone. Our closest neighbor in “Looney Community”…I’m not kidding, that’s what our rural area’s name was…a ¼ mile away. There was a road that made a square loop, one mile each leg. I used to love to ride the bicycle around that 4 mile loop on a summer night under a full moon. It was like riding along with God Himself. What an ugly bicycle it was too…big ‘ole blue Schwin (faded splotchy paint all scratched up) with HUGE handlebars and an old granny tractor-like seat on it. Didn’t matter though…it was transportation and the wind was blowing in my hair. I was queen of the world on my journeys from farm to farm on that bike. Notice that tree closest to the house. Both these trees used to be vibrant huge trees with shade for days. Notice the “twisted” form of the first tree especially, but somewhat noticeable in the second. These trees were full grown and this big as early as I can remember. However, they used to be perfectly straight and tall like any other. One summer day at about age 10 or 12, one of those infamous West Texas tornados came a ‘visitin, and in one fell swoop twisted both those trees and missed our house. Outside baseball sized hail that required a new roof, that was the only damage to our place. One man in our community died in that storm, and while watching it out the kitchen door, we saw one of the neighbors rushing down our road toward our house in his truck, and IMMEDIATELY, he was going the other way. The tornado picked him up and turned him around with no damage, except to his heart and his underpants :) The other neighbor’s chickens left the storm with NO FEATHERS. Sucked every feather out of every bird. Another’s refrigerator ended up in one of the neighbor’s cotton field upright. When opened, the eggs and a bowl of beans remained on a shelf unmoved. That TV antenna you see beside the house got messed up in the storm, but my Papa Bill fixed it, and it remains there today still good. As tall as that darn thing looks, it’s good enough to get you one clear channel, and a couple of fuzzy ones if the weather’s good :) Video Sharing at DropShots.com That brick contraption in this photo was our garage. Papa Bill was born in 1898, and Howard Taft came to his family farm a few miles away when he was young, and visited his father, James Hannibal Cook. Tin photos I have of that man epitomize Texas. I always wanted to name my first born son Hannibal, but Anthony Hopkins ruined that dream :) My daddy had every treasure in the world inside this garage. Growing up an only child of an “ancient” cowboy icon…I was a tomboy to say the least. I did boy things and played boy games. I was the only girl for years in the entire 5-6 mile stretch, so I had no choice but to be tough and hang with the guys. One of my biggest beatings was from stealing the last remaining pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes my daddy had saved for “hundreds” of years after he quit smoking, and smoking my first. He says he quit because “ready rolls” just weren’t as good as the old stuff (I also got beat for breaking the seal and having the first shot of whiskey in the cupboard that was a wedding gift to them). He had ham radios, ancient photos (He owned the first Harley Davidson dealership in that area back in 1915), and every old oxen farm gadget, old tool, anything you would ever need to fix anything broken, foal the new birth of any farm animal, guns of all kinds, and according to a young daughter caught in the wanderlust of her father…I THOUGHT HE WAS LIKE NOAH…I was sure he had two of everything in his “ark”. My father was also an amazing woodworker. Just like the old shoe smith in the fairy tales. He had a HUGE table saw, scroll saw, and wood lathe in this garage. He made amazing little bowls, candle holders, and furniture on these machines. He made just about every dresser drawers, china hutch, school desk, sitting table, medicine cabinet, kitchen table, etc. in our home. His work was immaculate and priceless. The few pieces I have today are not worth any amount of money to me. This man I’m sure sits next to God occasionally on invitation to this day. He made most of his creations from Mesquite wood (one of the hardest and most durable woods) and finished them to shiny brilliance. (You people pay good money for mesquite chips for your bar-b-que grills, and we just swept the scraps from the floor for ours). My basketball hoop was a metal hoop that my daddy welded himself, and hung to proper height on a piece of steel pipe cemented into the ground just to the right side of the building. I shot hoops for hours. There was a huge Hackberry tree that grew at the right side of the garage. I used to climb that tree and sit on top of the shingled roof thinking I had the view of a goddess from up there. I would get a stomach ache sometimes chewing on the red berries in the spring while reading a book and soaking up the sunshine. Video Sharing at DropShots.com This little quaint hut was my daddy’s tool shed. Don’t ask me why, but to this day, this is one of the most amazing buildings I have ever had the pleasure to go inside. It was so cool, so little, and yet so huge. Inside this little shed, Papa Bill had neatly organized a plethora of farm tools of all sizes. All neatly placed or hung according to their use. There were hoes, and shovels. Rakes, spades, weird gadgets of all sizes and shapes. You had to duck a bit to go inside, but could stand up once you were in. It was the only building on the property that was ever locked (we never locked our house), and I had a key. For some reason, though NO ONE EVER actually SAID it…this was the place for top secrets. As kids, if we had something REALLY important to discuss…for some reason we went to the shed. This little Taj Mahal used to be surrounded by our “orchard”…and in the background was a magnificent field of cotton. On a bumper crop year, sometimes the cotton stalks would be waist high, and one cannot imagine the unfathomable feeling of West Texas dirt squishing between your toes while walking along the rows. So cool in the mornings and early afternoon, and hot enough to literally burn your feet in the heat of the summer…but that dirt on my feet is a memory I never want to lose. I couldn’t lose it if I wanted, as I spent years of summers walking each one with a hoe in my hand, or following the strippers during harvest waiting to climb a trailer with neighbor boys to “tromp” the cotton down to fit as much cotton as possible into one trailer. We also carried the old burlap cotton sacks in fall after harvest to pick off the stalks what the strippers did not get. Whatever we could pick, we all got to keep the money. Hard work, but good money for kids. I often tell Negro people I have the opportunity to discuss world matters with, that “I’ve picked more cotton, and have lived more oppressed than you ever will…I actually know what it’s like… to me it was wonderful, it taught me life, and that lesson I won’t trade any college degree for.” We would also have to the left a far piece, rows and rows of home grown black-eyed peas. It used to be my job in the summer as a teenager to pick a bushel of peas every morning before I could do ANYTHING else, as we sold them to the local grocery store, along with cucumbers, plums, and strawberries to supplement our meager income. It took me years as an adult woman once I moved to the city to manage a household having to grocery shop. Growing up, we only bought paper goods, and some occasional meat, etc. from the store. EVERYTHING else, we grew, canned, jellied, and froze. I can’t hardly think of a vegetable that we didn’t have rows of during growing season. And since we were a “plant” farm, not really an animal farm, we would barter our harvested goods to the neighbors for beef, pork, and fowl. I really miss this shed. I even miss the occasional rattlesnake we horridly found inside, or the many baby horny toads, rabbits, or other critters that graced its dwelling from time to time. Video Sharing at DropShots.com And finally, to the reason for this post. The WINDMILL of my mind. Aahhh, the memories surrounding this windmill. It was a special and unique icon of my home farm all in its own. It’s small in stature (the freaking TV antenna is almost twice as tall), but was built and brought to existence by the bare hands of my Papa Bill. So was the house, the other barn in the background, and the shed. Papa Bill, 16 years senior to my Mama Ann, built this farm house, barn, shed, and windmill as a wedding gift to her in 1936. Romance and diligence does not exist like that today. Yes, I said 16 years older (and Mama Ann pitched a hissy fit when I was a freshman in high school, and cheated me out of my first date, because he was a senior…only four years older). I also used to climb upon this windmill when I was little, (it felt like one of the “big guys” that got to climb christmas trees on an oil derrick), and got yelled at every time I got caught, ‘cause I might get hurt… That little cement mess you can still see to the left of the windmill was actually a perfect and functional water trough for animals in its day, used by the few animals we had to get fresh water. Every windmill or trough leaks from time to time, and so did this one. But my daddy kept this one in such good shape, that the leaks were mere drips. On a hot summer day, it used to be fun to stand under the rigging for the mill and let the water drip once in a while on your face. You could close your eyes to the sun, and let the cool water drop on your hot dusty eyes and feel anew again. This trough had a school of goldfish that lived in it, also a romantic gift to my mother from Papa Bill, and they grew and died off, and replenished again for years. It was so cool to watch the beautiful goldfish swim in the water, and kneel in the cool dirt next to the cement structure. Even the cement was cool to the touch on a hot summer’s day. You could put your hand in the water and gracefully move it around and touch the fish, and they didn’t mind. The leaking drips from the stand caused extra moist earth below, and my daddy planted mint plants and herbs there, and the aroma was exotic. I spent hours chewing on fresh mint leaves playing with the fish. We had rows of blue lake green beans growing close to the windmill. It was also close to “the road”, and as I got older, the perfect place to catch one of the neighborhood boys driving by for a quick hello, or if lucky, several of them, and we would strike up a quick game of tackle football, or shell peas in the yard. This was the windmill of my mind, it always will be. No one who’s never experienced the quiet vast open spaces of a place like West Texas can truly understand the meaning of the Bible verse that speaks of the “peace that passes all understanding”…but it exists. And anyone that ever HAS experienced it cannot leave without a silent understanding of God and all that believing in something of a “karmic nature” or “a higher power” means. American by birth, Texan by the Grace of God. Thank you Mama Ann and Papa Bill for giving me a gift worth more than gold. Thank YOU for just being who you were that allowed me to grow into who I am. I can only pray that my children may someday express a love and remembrance of me the same way I feel about you. I am truly a blessed woman, in all my simplicity and existence.

Granny With A Bag - DON'T PISS HER OFF!

I’m in a clownish mood tonight…so I deem this “Funny Friday”. I hope tonight’s posts make you laugh. If you read my previous post about the “Rubber Chicken Lady”, I think this video may actually be her, or her evil twin perhaps… Enjoy. Video Sharing at DropShots.com

Women Gone Insane - It Happens...

Video Sharing at DropShots.com Sometimes, a woman just has to do what a woman has to do. These women took it a bit too far, but I’m sure under some circumstances it happens. I know I’ve had days when I just WISHED I had the balls to fight back. This is a funny road rage video, about 3 minutes.

Work - If It's NOT a Jellyfish Day - Don't Bitch

Video Sharing at DropShots.com This was e-mailed to me, and it’s the second time. You may have received this before, but it’s funny enough to read again. No more bitching at work…OK? Next time you have a bad day at work, think of this guy. Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in drilling rigs. Below is an E-mail he sent to his sister. She then sent it to radio station 103.2 on FM dial in Ft. Wayne, Indiana who was sponsoring a worst job experience contest. Needless to say, she won. Hi Sue, Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job. As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit. This time of year the water is quite cool. So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose. Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints. What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi. Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse. Within a few seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit. Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate. When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt. I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers were all laughing hysterically. Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut. So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt. Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job." Now, you have a new “bad day” meter. If it’s not a JELLYFISH day, no worries…

DUH - Preschooler's ARE Smarter

Pre-school children were asked the following question: In which direction is the bus pictured below traveling?" Video Sharing at DropShots.com Look carefully at the picture. Do you know the answer? The only possible answers are "left" or "right." Think about it. Still don't know? (Here’s my answer…) “I know…I think I get it… Look at the drawing again. There is no difference in the curvature on either side… this is not normal no matter in which direction the bus is traveling. Look, there are only three windows, and no children’s silhouettes inside them. Those are not windows…maybe. Oh, maybe those are not tires…those are back end lights. The three squares are the middle back window, and either an extremely simple example of more lights, or placards perhaps. My conclusion…It’s not traveling in EITHER direction, it’s STOPPED. We are looking at the end of the bus. (Fits along too, with all the “trick question – logic solving” e-mails we all get forwarded. ) ONE MORE LOOK… Video Sharing at DropShots.com The pre-schoolers all answered "left." When asked, "Why do you think the bus is traveling in the left direction?" They answered: "Because you can't see the door." DUH !!

TOBY KEITH - Help A Girl See Her Idol

Video Sharing at DropShots.com I'm a happy 43 year old woman, but EVERY WOMAN has a list. That list of men that we go ga-ga over. Toby is at the TOP of my list, what a BABE :) My husband took me to a concert in Tahoe for our anniversary, I tried so hard to get close enough to the stage to toss a cap from my company to him...NOT...a very large black female security guard caught me at every angle, I finally gave up when she said with the waving finger, "SISTER - GIRLFRIEND...I am not going to tell you again not to come here and try to throw that god-damn hat!". I am a member of his fan club, and it's called the Warrior Nation (how groupie of me I know)... however, a new campaign is running for new recruits. Points can be gained for members, and the top point gainer will win a fly-away for two and back stage passes to meet Toby Keith. Come on... help an old gal "get her drool on" :) Click HERE to join, IT'S ABSOLUTELY FREE, and I would appreciate the effort. If asked for a "handle" or promotional code, type in Malinda777. Who am I kidding, right? I laugh as I'm currently standing at 902nd place. But, you could e-mail this to everyone you know and just maybe, I could gain more points on your behalf. I always get those crazy chain e-mails that swear the power of forwarding...let's try it out. Thanks for your effort to make a silly girl smile :)

Rubber Chicken Road Rage

Video Sharing at DropShots.com Some things you just cannot make up. Some normally bad things can be shown to you in real life in such a way that just creates a defining moment of sorts. A moment in which you know that what you just saw right in front of your own eyes will stick with you forever, and become one of those stories you tell over and over. On my normally dreadful drive through a particularly hairy portion of rush hour traffic in Reno, I landed myself behind the classic REALLY OLD blue haired lady driving the same Cadillac her husband bought her when he retired 15 years ago. You know the type; her head (including the white bun on top of it) barely rise above the steering wheel, and her hands are white-knuckled to the steering wheel at precisely "10 and 2". I was creeping onto a traditionally treacherous on-ramp in our "spaghetti bowl". This elderly matriarch had been "accidentally" making her way across the adjacent lane of traffic occasionally, and speeding up then abruptly braking for the time I followed her. As we began the accent of the on-ramp, there are three lanes reduced to two, then one lane increased to two as the on ramp nears the freeway, just becoming one again right before you enter the freeway (don't ask me...I don't head up the planning committee). Some call this the "dead zone". Well, she encroached upon a really big diesel pickup and made him have to swerve. She quietly swerved back into her own lane like nothing ever happened, staring straight ahead. He was pissed and pulled even with her and revved up his "bad boy sounding power stroke" and went around her. She then turned into "psycho granny" and let the hamsters completely loose in that old Cadillac. She hurried into the left lane and was in hot pursuit of the Dodge while sputtering and smoking. She managed to go around him just in the nick of time to make it onto the freeway in the right lane. The entire time, she wasn't looking at the road, but instead got even with this guy and picked up a rubber chicken from her seat. She was hysterically waving and shaking this chicken at this petrified big man in this pickup truck. She threw it back down in her seat just in time to avoid a crash merging the freeway. My trip requires me to exit immediately after that, but I don't think I've laughed so hard during rush hour in a long time. I thought this was the funniest form of "Road Rage" I've seen in my lifetime. Of course, it's easy to say now that we all got out alive :)

Pulling My Hair Out Less

Office update: I’m pulling my hair out a little less each day. I spent 14 freaking hours Sunday cleaning hard drives, de-fragging, deleting unnecessary programs, and installing a new version of QuickBooks on the company’s eight computers. Why is it that computers are so vital and wonderful, but are so damn frustrating to work on when there is a glitch of any kind? Today, I made one simple “click” error, and cost myself another six hours in computer gobbly-goop. I have to just laugh and go on though. I swear I feel like it’s like science and I could be “Bill Nye the IT guy”. It always takes computer rookies like me longer than the average bear to accomplish the inevitable, but it’s a nice feeling at the grueling end to know that I did it, and did it well. After letting a couple of problem people go, I’m unbelievably swamped, but everyone in the company is so much happier and all are working like little bees to make our company productive and fun again. The person we put in charge of the shop is doing amazing things around the garage. I’ve thought for years that this was the person that needed to be in that position, and it’s unfolding nicely. I have a new person starting for me in the office Monday. I’ve known this person for over 10 years and know the work ethic there. A fair amount of training will have to take place, but I know with the support group I have, and this person’s desire to excel combined with a wonderfully professional and happy personality, it will be a good mix in the end. My other office personnel have really stepped up lately making it once again a pleasure to come to work (even if my head barely sticks up over the pile of shit on my desk). It is a real joy to see good work and honest dedicated effort and see smiles throughout the day too. You know that feeling when you can’t wait for 6 months to go by because you can finally see light at the end of the tunnel, and the light is no longer the train…I think I’m getting there. YEAH! I’m looking forward to a much more productive quarter April through June.

Come to Jesus Meeting

Video Sharing at DropShots.com One of my readers, The Mitch…commented on a previous post asking “What is a Come to Jesus Meeting? I suppose this commonly used phrase in the US is mostly of Southern origin. It’s usually used in business settings (or family settings) when problems arise and it’s time to sit everybody down and tell it like it is and put your foot down as to changes that need to be made, or else… I found this definition that explains it pretty well. Come to Jesus meetings are never pleasant, so don’t go signing up for one :) I guess it's simply a nice way to say "bitch session". Thanks Mitch for stopping by again, can't wait so get your next ice cream recipe :)

Why Arabs Throw Rocks

I really hope I don't get flogged for posting this, but someone e-mailed me this video, and I laughed my butt off. I'm sorry, even Muslims must see humor where humor lies. This is why Arabs throw rocks... Video Sharing at DropShots.com

Bay St. Louis, MS - Hurricane Katrina - Photo Essay

Tonight, Kathleen Koch of CNN News who grew up in Bay St. Louis, MS did an extensive documentary on the on-going tragic situation of this small coastal Mississippi community. Hopefully from the link above, you can retreive some of the story. Or, check out some of these video links I lived in Bay St. Louis from 1992-1996. The wonderful people and businesses of this coastal community were very good to me when I lived there. This town will always be in my heart, and my heart breaks for them today. This was ground zero for Hurricane Katrina, and these people are no better off today than the day of the storm. If you feel inclined to help anyone, please consider these good folks of the Mississippi coast. Eddie Favre was the mayor when I lived there, and he still is today. He is easily accessible through the net, or contacting Hancock County, MS. He would be happy to tell ANYONE who might help, where it's needed and what to send, and where to get your dollars to the right place to do the most good. An old friend from that area sent me the following photo essay of her own. These are before and after photos of Katrina damage in this area. Not all these photos are from Bay St. Louis, they cover the many towns that line up all in a row from Bay St. Louis to Biloxi, MS. Over 70 square miles were devastated during this storm. There are many photos, so please scroll down to see them all, and keep these people in your prayers. Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com Video Sharing at DropShots.com