Who will stand with me? Who will stand and honor our Veterans? They give it all. They sacrifice everything to serve our country and by putting us first. Where would we otherwise find such people? Courage is an incredible gift and our service men and women are brave to place themselves in front of any enemy, to stand in-between them and us. Us … We The American People.
These men and women step up to the plate, take what’s dished out. Do what their superior officers order them to do, and accept whatever comes their way. They have determination, true grit and a deep love of their country. Which means they love us.
In my family there are nine veterans, with one still active duty and getting ready to retire after 24 years service, and many tours under fire. Even his younger brother had multiple combat tours. His own son joined and served in a combat zone. We do not believe in war, but the men on both sides of my family believe in our country and what it stands for. They have received medals of bravery and we are proud of their service in the military.
Two members of my family were wounded during two different wars. And even if the others were not physically hurt, they all carry with them the anguish of war, from both sides. The mental images of terrible events get unwittingly replayed in their minds, even after decades, to torture and hinder their everyday lives. There is counseling but it is likened to a band-aid cure. The scars in the minds of my loved ones and all of the other men and women, and the innocent victims, are deep … they continue to maim.
Together, we must stop playing so much and take the time out of our days to reach out and lend a hand or volunteer. Please visit the link at the top of this post and read, watch videos and determine if you can spare something of yourself in giving back to our men and women who place everything they hold dear, on the line … for you and for me. Do some unselfish giving. That equates to giving without expecting anything in return. Do you have it in you to step up to this plate?
To all the families on both sides of war, I keep you in my prayers. I pray for an end to all war, all ugliness, all hate, all jealousy and greed. Haven’t we had enough?
At my house, sometimes it just comes down to kicking and shoving. Now don’t read this the wrong way, I just mean that after prodding and cajoling my taller half, I must resort to tough action when it comes to getting him out the door to go to work. Yes, I admit I have to shove him into the foyer and kick him out the door. All this after telling him to have a nice day, giving generous hugs and meaningful kisses. I literally have to get him to leave. I kick him out.
It isn’t that he does not want to go but he gets involved in other matters. His studio, the newscasters on the television, who I have heard him disagree with out loud. Does anyone else’s husband talk to the TV as if these people can hear them giving their opinions? I must admit that I do this once in a while myself. But he does it in the car too, with radio show hosts. He’s the politically minded one and I only become involved when the mood strikes.
Today I sent him off to the office with an array of baked goodies to share with his co-workers. There is another cake waiting for him when he gets there. These people want to eat the cake and the longer he took to get ready, meant they had to wait longer to enjoy some sweets. Everyone will be high on sugar for days.
Oh, that’s right … he told me we weren’t going to eat sugar or white flour anymore. I am a baker for crying out loud. Of course I am going to continue using these vital ingredients. He will just have to forego eating the goodies I have already planned to make. It’s so convenient for him to expound on the virtues of not eating this or that, after the fact. After he has already had his lion’s share of a particular food group. I figured out a long time ago that since no one supposedly makes it out of here (planet Earth/life) alive, then I am going to eat whatever I damn well please.
Today, I have interviews to type, research to do … the subject is a sweet one, chocolate & candy making, plus I am working on my Thanksgiving Menu. This year is going to be traditional with a huge twist. Thank goodness. I think it is going to reflect a lot of Italian, with seafood appetizers and side dishes, along with a little French dessert on the side. No pumpkin pies after the big bird this year. No chocolate cream pie. No Floating Island … gosh … (Melody is now on the west coast … I love that dessert). Loud sighs.
This year is the first time in fifteen years that I am hosting dinner in our home. We do not have two dinners to eat, nor do we have to travel. We won’t be bringing two dishes, or helping in someone else’s kitchen. I would be the one helping in the kitchen. He would be the one helping to watch the football game. It will be the same except that I will prepare the whole shebang.
Back to my, kicking him out, topic. He is a man that likes to take not only his time, but mine as well, getting out the door. Knowing full well that his friends were waiting to surprise him, there was nothing for it but to get into the spirit of things. He’ll have such a good time , plus they will get more than just one dessert. Cool! A big thank you to all of the gang at the fort.
Happy Birthday To You
Happy Birthday To You
Happy Birthday Dear Joe
Happy Birthday To You!
This is a photograph of legendary Miles Davis. I find it therapeutic to my psyche to listen to this genius musician.
Joe introduced us about 1987 during a recording session at his studio. I found Joe doing musical chops on bass, as he played along with a jazz record. Descending the staircase I slowed my approach just so I could hear this new song. I listen closely to appreciate his skill, which was equal to the maestro horn player. Mostly what I heard was the bass but I caught the sounds bleeding from the headphones. I lingered allowing my feet to tread lightly upon the wooden steps. I knew Joe practiced along with Weather Report and DeBussey but I was unsure who this was.
As I peered down at him, his back to me, left arm poised, his fingers were rapidly and accurately following the intricate melody. He made it seem effortless and as I walked quietly to stand before him, I saw that his eyes were closed. Fat earphones covered his ears and his head moved smoothly to a rhythmic pace. He kept the beat and timing by doing this and I could see his foot was also tapping out the tempo in a comfortable groove.
At the end of the song, Joe’s eyes flashed open and he smiled slowly. He looked so happy and relaxed. I asked him if he would remove the earphones and repeat the song for I had never heard it before. He obliged me by testing the volume on the big speakers first, then carefully picking up the diamond needle, he gently placed it into the groves prior to the song I had requested. Joe looked away into the distance as his fingers took off to travel up and down the neck of the instrument. In a few moments his eyes closed, probably because when music and performance is quite personal, eye closure takes one to the place where talent and emotion meet. The full sounds were incredible.
By the end of one song, I was hooked on this artist. “Who is that?” I inquired enthusiastically pointing to the record, which by now was starting to slow in the number of its rotations. “Miles Davis.” Joe answered with a slight reverence in his voice. He told me more about the artist who was a jazz icon and just why I didn’t know his music, was beyond me, as I had been working the music scene for years by then. I guess exposure is the best teacher when it comes to any art.
We have been listening to Miles Davis in companionable accord ever since. Miles and Joe are jazz lifestyles of which I shall never tire.
Seek out good things and and always enjoy great memories.
Every morning even before I have stumbled toward the coffee maker, all sleepy-eyed and silent, I realize I have been blessed with another day on our very own planet. I recall just how small we all are, and in the scheme of things it appears we are most often our own stumbling block.
Find five people or things you are grateful for and then send up your thanks because it is always good manners to be polite and say the right words.
Tonight I thought to myself, “Why make one cookie when I can make four different cookies?” I pulled out many ingredients and my kitchen soon took on the sounds of the mixer turning, measuring spoons and cups getting into the game and eggs being cracked. My kitties watched me from the dining room, hopeful I was sharing more boneless chicken breast. Since I had already fed them, I decided to give them a treat bag filled with dry num – num’s. That’s the sound they make when chewing these treats up. I’m saving their chicken until tomorrow.
I divided the cookie dough into thirds. 1) Dark chocolate chips; one batch with, and one batch without chopped pecans. 2) One batch with chopped pistachios and white chocolate chips. 3) The last batch with chopped slivered almonds, chopped dried apricots and dried cherries plus white chocolate chips. We are the cookie tasters and a cold glass of milk is a wonderful accompaniment to the chewy crunch. I kiss my fingers and gracefully let my arm arc into the air. Bellissimo!
* Recipe on back of Nestle’s Toll House Dark Chocolate chips. I was taught to bake these cookies by Mrs. White, when I was fifteen, and Centreville was little more than a drive-through city with a general store, gas station Dairy Queen and one traffic light. We were promised Metro would soon be providing access to downtown, DC. There is not a Metro Subway Station there yet.
lion yawning, originally uploaded by chromatophobe.
This shot says it all. I am still trying to wake up even though it is 5:30 PM. Some days are sleepier than others. Today has been for me a dream state. One between dreamlike haze and a slow awakening. I have experienced this throughout my life and there is simply no fighting it. Were I to look I might find the moon is presently traveling through the sign of Pisces. This behavior is a normal occurrence during this two and a-half day span.
I have noticed that during this timeframe my minds compartments are more noticeably in the front right side of my head, where I am feverishly storing ideas, thoughts and stories inside these storage facilities. It is another explanation for writers block cure. A rejuvenation of sorts, this compiling of data. Filling up the little grey areas in order to pull posts out of my brain in a flash. Thinking on ones feet or thinking on ones seat. Talking or writing. Same concept.
Talking about this helps me wake up a little more. Get myself out of the grey fog and prepare myself to do a horrendous amount of writing.
