Thinking back, favorites on the spot and more

I have been in contact with some of my old high school classmates as a result of my front page AWON story on my father in my hometown newspaper. Here in "Mayberry" many of these folks have been here all their lives so they are in contact with high school pals, etc. When I listen to them I think, "how strange..." I read books like the "Ya Ya Sisters" and think, how strange. There has been so much water (some rough, some muddy) over that bridge. But lately I've been scratching my head, looking at my high school year book and remembering. Putting together long forgotten pieces. It is indeed strange. I am mostly thankful for the life I've had but now looking back creates nostalgia. What if, what if, I'd stayed in PA. What if I'd completed Allegheny? Surely it would not have led me back home. Sometimes I acknowledge it was the biggest mistake of my life to leave Allegheny and marry that first time. But then, God was looking out. And He can bring good out of anything. I was too young, stupid to be married. I was clueless. Had my home life been better I know it wouldn't have happened but it did. Had my mother not been so wretched, it might not have happened, but it did. As a result I got to CA. I stayed, my grandmother to the rescue to help me get back off my pregnant self and onto my own feet. I had Steve. I met Jerry after my escapades or, in spite of them. And the rest now nearly 41 years later has been a great life, ups, downs and all. And so now, in 2008 I'm finally recalling high school. So much I would not have traded for anything.

My friend Carlie, got me onto Facebook. Yet one more electronic marvel. So I'm completing all those questions, favorite songs, quotes, books, etc.....It gets me thinking how much is really a favorite--or is it just what we recall when on the spot. And for me, a dabbler, a flitter, or as Dave Mitchell said, "easily bored with the attention span of a Cocker Spaniel." Is that intelligence or is that attention deficit dsorder. so many diagnoses today. And what is a favorite? Is it what strikes me at the moment, the first thing that comes to mind or is it what later stomps out, "hey what about...?" ? I read something Colin Powell wrote about dabbling, and agreed! He said he did not want to run for public office because he wanted to dabble, to do what came up. Now, is there a more forward? Do we focus more backward and review? Or are we treadng water trying to stay in place?

Talked to Steve tonight, his hard luck life. And this has made me think so much more again about what's genetic and what's environmental. That boy (my son, our son surely ) was raised with every advantage which he ignored. He lives a meager existence now, lost his permanent job as school district custodian nearly 2 years ago, works on call, no benefits, is losing the condo for which we poured the $$ down payment and now is without a vehicle, his truck was hit in front of his place and the person has insufficient insurance. Nothing is his fault, and yet everything is. Sometimes I worry that he is depressed and sometimes I get annoyed at his lack of ambition, his lack of striving and his lackadaisical attitude. Others have children succeeding, moving forward and Steve who should have, drags down. The victim, the helpless. I hate that and yet I do love my son as a mother does. What next? This reminds me of my first husband, lack of ambition, clueless. Yet Steve never knew him. so my interest, what's genetic. How can it be? I suppose we will help him get a vehicle. I said he has to pay this back. He agreed--oh sure. How many vehicles is this we've backed? We cannot continue to support him. When I mention he should move here, he doesn't want to. Yet when every door closes, isn't that the sign to try something else? And what would he do without us?

Hmmmm. Sometimes God brings things we least expect to our lap. It is hard to practice really our Christianity in trials. Yet that is what life brings..

Quote from Tony Snow

We were saddened by tony's death. He showed how to live life to the fullest, always. This quote says it all.

Tony Snow in The Jewish World Review, 2005:

The art of being sick is not the same as the art of getting well. Some cancer patients recover; some don't. But the ordeal of facing your mortality and feeling your frailty sharpens your perspective about life. You appreciate little things more ferociously. You grasp the mystical power of love. You feel the gravitational pull of faith. And you realize you have received a unique gift – a field of vision others don't have about the power of hope and the limits of fear; a firm set of convictions about what really matters and what does not. You also feel obliged to share these insights – the most important of which is this: There are things far worse than illness – for instance, soullessness.

What a weekend

Saturday, July 12 we buried Jerry's Aunt Marie Cook, 97 years old. Her last years were in the nursing home and just were not Marie. In her life, Marie was always loud with laughter--as tough a life as she'd had and as hard as she worked she was full of joy. Whenever Marie was in the room you knew it because you could hear her! She was Jerry's favorite aunt. Now that leaves only Florence of the sisters. she took this fairly hard--I think harder than when Lyman, her husband died. Jerry was a pall bearer. The church was nearly full, she'd lived here all her life.

I did not get to speak as I intended because the family did not request anyone to remember her so it was not part of the service. I thought that weird, but who knows about them. Alden (Marie's son) would have enjoyed it but Shirley, his wife is a different kind of person. She is usually grumpy and unhappy and now with Marie gone,I think she is relieved and figures they will move to Texas where several of their children live.

We have had several rain, thunder, lightning, wind storms that come up and last an hour or so and just pour down sheets of water. The tall hollyhocks, as tall as the roof of the house in spots, survived the torrents of wind and rain the best. It occurred to me that Marie was like those hollyhocks--loud with laughter, bright despite, and happy. I wanted to share that thought and another.

Marie worked all her life--hard. She had bad arthritis in her legs the last years which restricted her mobility. She never would have the $$ to get medical treatment, knee replacements, etc. So she went on. Well that did not stop her--she was always taking care of the old people. In her 80's she was cleaning house for the old ladies--some of them were younger than her!

That was Aunt Marie Cook. She was proud and quick with words. She was the one who could straighten Florence out; she got tired of Florence's laments about Oceanside's tribe. She'd tell her so. Now there is no one.

After the funeral we came home and Jerry said his stomach hurt. He hadn't eaten any of the sandwiches at the church. He thought he had gas. Well he never lays down so I knew that was a sign. After letting him do that for half an hour and no relief, I decided we'd go to the doctor. That meant Urgent Care across the river in La Crosse as our doctor is not open on Saturday. He agreed reluctantly.

In 1993 he'd had emergency surgery as a result of a kinked intestine. They removed about 3 foot of his intestine and he's had no other troubles that way. Well, that was on our mind but Jerry said it was not the same kind of pain. At urgent care, Fransciscan Skemp, we got right in and they examined him, drew blood, took xrays and ran an EKG. They said the EKG had abnormalities and they were worried about a blockage in the bowel. He was not nauseous, no fever, just uncomfortable enough to go to the center. Well the Mayo system does not fool around. After the tests and consults in urgent care the doctor said he wanted to admit him to the hospital; we went straight to his room on the 7th floor. What a shock!

They ran more bowel xrays and hooked him to a heart monitor. Drew blood to check heart enzymes ever few hours. A young woman MD. who was covering for Dr. Franta was highly alarmed. Said he may have had a heart attack, there was a bowel obstruction, etc. A young MD, she was more alarmed than the urgent care MD. He spent the night and they ran a cat scan and took blood every couple hours. The blood work was good. He could have nothing to eat/drink only ice chips. I was scared.

I got home about 9:20 PM beat and had phone calls to make. Just walking through the process. I did not sleep well at all and got up about 5:00AM Sunday AM. fed the birds, showered, picked up limbs and branches outside again and went to the hospital. The surgeon had been in the night before after I left and said that all looked normal on the cat scan. No problems there.

The cardiologist came in Sunday AM and had slight concern. he believes the electrical impulses around one part of the heart are not connecting right. He wants more tests which have been scheduled for this week. but he said Jerry could come home! Provided they give him fluids and he tolerates them. He did just fine so we brought him home about 3:30PM Sunday. I was beat but most relieved.

About 8:40 AM Sunday sitting in the hospital room where Jerry was sleeping, I felt like I'd been given a warm hug. I believe that was the sign from Jesus that all would be right. It was reassurance that prayers were being positively answered. I have felt that same sensation in my life during other crises. That is why I worried because I'd not had that feeling Saturday night. Well he's home, soft diet yesterday and today. Then no restrictions.

Our family MD is on vacation so he will see him when he returns on the July 23. Meantime he's been scheduled for all kinds of further tests--echo cardiogram and a stress EKG. We hope for the best. A pacemaker was mentioned, but the cardiologist was dubious of that. He just want a thorough testing.

I am grateful again for prayers and positive answers.

Newspaper Article My Father

One of the reasons we went to PA in June was so that I could be interviewed by my hometown newspaper (The Valley Dispatch) about my father, my search and AWON. I'd emailed asking to place a tribute to my father and the crew on June 20, the 64 year anniversary of the crash. Instead, Jeff Domenick, the editor became interested in my story and in AWON. So he agreed to do a feature and said I should call when I got to town. The fates and my angels were at work, I was interviewed on June 20, the anniversary date. Other AWON orphans also are featured. But my aunt Virginia who was thrilled about the piece says that I stole the front page with my photo. I hope this brings more members and I hope for me some of the Ball family see it and know about us. Most of all I hope this reminds people to never forget the sacrifices of WWII. I know the newspaper will not hold the article online forever so I have cut and pasted it here.

World War II orphans search to fill blanks left by fathers
By Rossilynne SkenaVALLEY NEWS DISPATCHSunday, July 6, 2008

Growing up in New Kensington during the 1950s, Pat Ball Morrison learned not to talk about her dead father. "When kids would ask me, 'Your name is Ball and your mother's name is McKinley,' it was really embarrassing because that didn't happen back in those days. And then I would say, 'Well, my father was killed ...'
"And then people would just kind of look at you like you had the plague or something, so you learned really early on to not talk about it."
Lewis Ball died before his daughter was born. He knew that his wife was expecting, but he never had the chance to meet his child.

Morrison is one of America's 183,000 "war orphans." Her father died when his bomber crashed into the sea. For 60 years, Morrison, 63, knew only that her father had been killed in World War II. She didn't know the details of what happened in June 1944 and she didn't know why.

Not aloneMorrison's story isn't that different from other 600-plus members of the American World War II Orphans Network (AWON). Many of these "orphans" are finally just discovering who their fathers were and how they died.
AWON was founded to honor the memory of those who died in the war and to reach out to as many so-called war orphans as possible, said Barry Barr-Finch, AWON's director of regional coordinators. Barr-Finch, 64, of Seattle, said AWON fosters an environment for those who lost a parent to tell their stories and to learn. "It's an opportunity for me to meet other orphans and we get to share our stories. We get to hear other people's situations. And then one of the things that happened to me as a direct result of that, I have learned to find things I didn't know existed -- for instance, my father's records."
There are now members in every state, he said, and the organization is always looking to reach more war orphans.

Some members with ties to western Pennsylvania share their stories and the stories of their fathers, America's fallen heroes.

Morrison grew up with just a few remnants of her father, like his hat and his belt. Until her mother died a few years ago and she found letters, documents and memorabilia while cleaning out her house, Morrison never really knew what happened to him.
Morrison's father, Lewis Ball, was piloting a B-24 from Nassau, Bahamas, to Charleston, S.C. on a training flight. His last report was just as it was getting dark; an urgent message was sent an hour later.
The official story, she said, is that the plane ran out of fuel. Along with the accident report, she received a signed letter from the man who fueled her father's plane.
"I find this odd because, you know, you've got to figure that guy's job was just to put fuel in airplanes. He says that he asked the engineer, 'You sure you have enough fuel?' because that's the official story on this -- that they ran out of fuel.
"But there's speculation, you know. Was a German submarine along the coast? Were they flying low? We'll never know," Morrison said.
"The reason that we're called American War Orphans Network is because the government called us orphans -- war orphans. And I know when I mentioned that to my mother when she was alive, she got very angry. She said, 'You're not an orphan. I'm still alive.'
"I said, 'Well, even the government said that we're orphans.' I never thought of myself as an orphan because I knew I had a mother," she said. "But it's just kind of interesting that that is the title we were given."

Morrison grew up resentful of the situation, that she didn't know the details.
"I thought this is really just bizarre. But I've learned through AWON there are just so many of us that have the same story. Our mothers did not talk about it."

Now Morrison lives in Minnesota and keeps all the mementos in her "patriotic room."
She's involved with AWON and its members.
"Now we talk all the time," she said, "making up for years where nobody said anything."

Soldier's Son
AWON member Ben McClelland, 64, said his grandmother was never able to accept the loss of her son.
"She always expected him to come home," he said. "She would go to the front door if she heard a car or truck. She thought he was going to come home."
McClelland's father, Ewing Ray "Pete" McClelland, was in an artillery division that was protecting European countries when the Germans made a final offensive and captured two American divisions, McClelland said. Those divisions were marched to a holding camp in Germany. After that capture, the allied troops did a bombing raid throughout the area and accidentally bombed the prison where the soldiers were, he said.
McClelland grew up in Masontown, and he didn't know the details of his father's death until he started his research.
"Like many of the AWON members, I grew up, of course, without a father and without knowing much about my father's life and especially about the circumstances of his death in the war," he said. "His death was not something that we could talk about within the family."
It wasn't until he was more than 50 years old that McClelland was able to visit his father's grave. The trip was a traumatic one.
While visiting the cemetery, he said, repressed memories came back. It gave him the impetus to write his memoir, "Soldier's Son," which chronicles his experience growing up. It has chapters that focus on his family and his parents' relationship. McClelland now teaches English at the University of Mississippi and lives in New Albany, Miss., with his family.
Growing up, McClelland said, he thought there was some "family secret."
McClelland's father, who was 29 years old when he died, went to college to study optometry but, when Pearl Harbor was attacked, he came home and enlisted.
His mother never remarried. It wasn't until McClelland was an adult that his mother would talk about the situation. Now, McClelland holds hope for children whose parents are fighting in today's war. It's not just families who lose a parent, but parents who survive warfare but return home with emotional or psychological problems.
"There are children who are facing the same kind of situation I had," he said. "I hope that the service community has better support systems that we had before."

Another familyFor Antonetta Bell, of Boyers, AWON is like "another whole family."
"You relate to them," said Bell, 66.
After she joined the network, she did research about her father's story.
Her father, Pasquale Niro, was killed in 1945 when he was helping his brigade cross a river. He was the last to go across and was shot.
Her mother would only say that he was killed by a sniper.
"He was always 'the man in the picture,'" she said.
There was a family picture taken of her mother, father, sister and herself before her father went overseas. Bell was 2 1/2 years old when her father left.
Prior to his death, he had already been wounded a couple of times.
Niro, who wasn't a U.S. citizen when he enlisted, was told that he would get his citizenship papers sooner if he enlisted, she said. After he died, Bell said, he finally did receive those papers.
Bell said Memorial Day reminds her of what her father did for his country.

Never forget
Stewart Lerch grew up with no father to play ball with and no father to look up to as a role model. Lerch, 64, an AWON member from Reading, was 7 months old when his father was killed in New Guinea. Lerch's father only saw him once.
"Growing up, people will say to me, 'Why are you an orphan -- you had a mother?' As in the Orphans Network, we will say, we didn't really have a mother because they were dealing with the loss," he said.
Lerch's daughter Susie Clark, 45, lives in Ross Township. She calls the network "eye-opening."
"It was so upsetting to me to hear how a lot of the families didn't talk about the servicemen who were killed, whether it was just too painful or whether it wasn't socially accepted," she said.
Lerch remembers that, as a child, he'd walk into a room and adults would stop talking.
"Parents and adults did not talk to children about these things," he said.
It wasn't until he was about 55 years old that he discovered letters his father wrote to his grandmother. Lerch never got the answer to why his dad was killed.
He was told that the answer was in the Bible. But, he said he looked and couldn't find it.
When he was about 11 or 12 years old, he found the answer while looking at a calendar sent to his home from the Veterans of Foreign Wars.
Two dates stuck out in his young mind: Memorial Day and the Fourth of July.
"They died to ensure the Fourth of July would always be a day for our independence," he said.
His father, also named Stewart Lerch, was a member of an engineer combat battalion that was also used as infantry. His father was serving as an infantry rifleman when the Japanese attacked. He was shot and killed instantly.
Lerch has "the dreaded telegram" announcing his father's death, his dad's rings, letters and a folder with the picture his father carried with him.
He now gives talks to school groups about World War II. He also talks to veterans and encourages them to share their stories.
"We as a nation may never forget our fallen heroes -- past, present or future. I hate to say future, but it is going to happen."

Rossilynne Skena can be reached at rskena@tribweb.com or 724-226-4681. SIDEBARPat Morrison and her scrapbook Jason Bridge/Valley News Dispatch

American World War II Orphans Network
AWON's mission is to locate and support American orphans of World War II and to honor the service and sacrifice of those killed in the war.
The network provides a registry of orphans and families, guidance to locate records, biannual conferences and regional and local gatherings as well as publications, online communication and a speaker's bureau.
For more information about the Network, including how to become a member, visit http://www.awon.org/.

Lyrics to Duke the Spook

Duke the Spook

The night is calm – the sky is clear,
A perfect set-up for a bombardier.
Motors roar with an angry spark
The big B-24’s on their marks;
From the ground with shrieks and wails,
A ghostly figure hits the ether trails,
A mascot, in a high hat and tails.
Meet the gallant swell – “Duke the Spook”,
Charming as all hell – “Duke the Spook”.
With flowery phrase on his lips
He’ll annihilate those Nips
when his killing smile greets the foe.
Death is done in style, don’t you know?
Class will win and they’ll give in;
You’ll shake the hand that shook Berlin
Oh, “Duke the Spook!”

Duke the Spook

I have been in touch with two wonderful gentlemen from Charleston, SC who are collaborating to write a book on the old WWII Charleston Army Air Base. That was my father's last stop. Of course this caught my interest and the last two months have been like Christmas.

Darrell Parker is the one who loves to do research went to the Charleston library archives and found the original newspaper clipping about my father's plane crash. The article had the home addresses of all the crew. Well 64 years later chances are very slim that I will find any remaining family members, but it's something I have to check out. I learned that there were many B-24 crashes out of and around Charleston. Sometimes there was nothing in the newspapers because the government did not want to alarm citizens. I also learned that there were many German POWs in Charleston and they were on road building and brush clearing work crews. They had no place to go--ocean or swamp. The history I'm learning is fascinating to me!

George Miller has sent me two manila envelopes full of photos, history of the base and memorabilia photos. The second arrived Friday--included were the insignia, Duke the Spook which was the men's logo for the 400th Bombardment Group. Now I have another piece of information about my father. At first when I saw Duke, I shuddered. Then I realized, this was a WAR. The men knew their chances as pilots of B-24's were not good. D Day had started but the skies were heavily covered in Europe. My father and his crew would have been on their way if not for the fatal crash. So these brave men aced it with a macabre sense of humor to us. Yet they looked at death and made it classy. Duke the Spook was a popular song sung by Bing Crosby and dedicated to the men of the 400th Bombardment Group. It was written my Jimmy Van Heusen. I have never heard it but I'll now be searching.

One of my favorite tunes that I sung as a kid and still think about is Bing's "Swingin' on a Star."
Providential that now I have another Bing tune in my life?

Now I look at Duke and appreciate him for his significance, for his bravery in the face of death--dancing to meet fate with a silk top hat! I am so indebted to these two men. Can't wait to get to Charleston to meet in person--but Darrell warned me to stay away in summer or I would hate them all. Last Saturday he called--it was 98 degrees and 93 percent humidity! Not my kind of weather.

Memorial Day 2008 (5-26-08)

Today is the end of this long weekend trip to northern MN where we stayed in Bemidji at the Royal Oaks RV Park. In what we heard is very abnormal for this area there are many camp/RV spots open. The $$ of gas has affected RVrs and others who are staying home. We made this trip to see a new area of the state, to us. This is where MN earned the name of land of 10,000 lakes as there are more lakes than I've ever seen one after another.

This is RV, resorts, cabins and camping and fishing area. Home of the Chippewa , Crow and Ojibwe Indian tribes. Besides casinos, these Indians have many industries--bottling water, raising and selling wild rice, moccasins, etc. And their own license plates--these plates which I first spotted at Wal Mart are not MN but each sovereign tribe has their own plate. Have never seen that anywhere else in the country.

By the way, Bemidji has the busiest WalMart we've seen anywhere in the country. The mainstay of the town besides the huge statues of Paul Bunyan and Babe the blue ox at the visitor center, is the Univ. of Bemidji. All brick buildings--many many dormitories. Not sure but think the primary academic is geology, natural sciences, and other similar outdoor scienes. Oh Bemidji is also home of curling---guess they need to amuse themselves during the long harsh winters here.
Saturday we went to the headwaters of the Mississippi River at Itasca State Park. I did not take off my shoes to walk across the rocks there as I thought I would. Call me a coward, but it was too cold with still the melting snow keeping the water icy--those who did the walk on the rocks barefooted were kids and 20 somethings. Another time when the water is not so high or cold! Lake Itasca has a fascinating visitors center full of history of the area and the tribes and the fur trapping and the French Indian wars of the 1700's. Many buildings of this park were built by the CCC in the 1930's making us wonder why we can't do such a thing today to put people to work--but then flash---back then those who didn't work didn't eat. Today the courts will say "ah no that's servitude or slavery" "Must not." Yet another lost American value becomes clear with reflection on history and seeing this visible monument to such efforts. In one exhibit two men now in their 80's wrote of being part of the CCC in 1936 where for the first time they got three meals a day, all they could eat, and a pair of boots-which came in one size. Large. One man said he will never forget those boots.

Itasca has a large drive around which is one way traffic so that we enjoyed all the sights from the truck seat. I saw hundreds of ladyslippers in bloom. This is the first time I've seen the MN state flower in bloom.

But primarily we cme north to attend the ceremony held today in Akeley,MN at the VFW Post where Kathy Swanson, AWON, and her mother received the last of her father's medals from WWII. Senator Norm Coleman presented these, the Akeley VFW, which seems to be the hot spot in this tiny town, went all out. The Legion came from Walker,MN slightly bigger but tiny. Coleman messed up the presentation by saying Kathy's father died August 17, 1949--then covered saying that was his own birthday! I don't think he ever said 1944. Kathy's father died the day she was born August 17, 1944. Cpl. Ed Newsome was a medic and wounded in the Pacific. He was to be sent back to the states but died in the hospital; his diary indicates bombs were dropping. His grave is memorialized in the Phillippines. Kathy never knew that her stepfather was not her biological father until she went to get her birth certificate at age 16. Then her mother told her Johnson name was not her name! That began her search and journey which finally led to today's ceremony. She found her father's family in Texas and has met those still alive. She has also seen her father memorialized in Texas in his hometown monument. She and her husband are very active in their VFW and have the display wall with service branch and brief life stories of each member. Bob Swanson created this using the WWII memorial model. They intend to sell out and become full time RVers. We will see them next in Tucson.

Weather turned cold today. Could have used some of the woolen sweaters from the Bemidji Woolen Mill which I did not buy when we visited it Friday!

On our way here we stopped at Camping World in Rogers MN where I got my tricycle at last!!I have pedaled it around this RV park but will prefer concrete at home. It has 3 speeds and handbrake as well as pedal brake--a nice big basket on the back where I can carry stuff. They had just gotten 2 in on the truck and assembled it. While we intended to stop on our way home, with only two I didn't want to take a chance on missing out--have had my eye out for one since I first saw it in CA in November at the Camping World in Rocklin.

We head home tomorrow. This has been a restful trip--maybe too much so. Yesterday I sat over three hours working the Wall Street Journal's crossword on the computer; no way to save it so I kept guessing away. My butt wnt to sleep!

Spring has arrived

Great weather here the last 2 days--70 degrees! Whee! And we can just watch all the grass grow--it seems by the hour. How quickly the flies appear--will the mosquitoes be far behind? Looks like two or three rosebushes did not make it through the winter. So will be replacing those.

This month, I bought the wildest pair of shoes I've bought in a long time. The are nearly 3 inch heels, look great with jeans; I'll wear them now and then but certainly not when I'll be on my feet for long periods of time. These are fun party shoes, which fit the saying--If you wear a great pair of shoes, no one will notice the size of your tush! Jerry is not as amused and says things like "stay away from wherever the working girls hang out." He's always considered himself a comedian about my shoes. Years back in CA he commented about another pair--"How far did you have to chase that pimp to take those shoes off him?" Maybe if we had not had such a long hard winter, I would not have been as tempted with these shoes, but had to have them and their Betty Boop peep toes!

I really embarrassed myself on April 5. Karaoke at the La Crosse, Legion. I chose "I Hope You Dance" and the sounds that came out of my mouth were not from this world. Wow, I've never sounded that bad. So I have been giving the voice a work out by singing more around the house. I talked to a friend who had the same awful experience at Karaoke that same night--so we think there was a Karaoke Demon o the loose. This Demon tried to get us both from ever stepping up to the mikes again, but we shall overcome. We'll try again--next time, I'll stop when the K DJ plays the song too slow or low for me. Anyway since I so embarrassed myownself, Jerry thinks he's off the hook for future song fests--not so.

American Deaths in IRAQ

Today's big media news is that 4,000 Americans have been killed in Iraq. Well let me preface my "so" "and what else" by reminding you of my patriotism. I know the cost of war. Along with over 180,000 other Americans I lost my father in World War II.

But 4,000 killed? Over five years? Come On People. How many are killed in automobile accidents annually in this country? How many junkies die of overdoses annually in this country? How many Americans were killed by terrorists in New York City on fatal 9-11?

I do not shrug off the death of anyone of our brave military serving in Iraq. But we need to put this into perspective. How many of them might have died here in this country on the road or in another kind of accident?

Their families are compensated. No, life can't be bought but neither can freedom be cheaply defended. The media would twist all this to have us believe the war is a failure, even though the surge is working. The media call it Bush's War. The liberal media hate our President and I believe they hate our way of life. They are about their own liberal agenda.

Did you know that until three years ago, the "death gratuity", a tax-free sum paid directly by the government, was $12,420 for military death? In addition, service members had a group life insurance policy for $250,000 with the government paying the premiums.

In 2005, Congress increased those amounts to $100,000 and $400,000 respectively, retroactive to 2001. So, if a service member dies in the line of duty today, his survivors get half a million dollars. Hmm. Do local/state governments insure their fire fighters or police officers for similar amounts?

Note that "dies in the line of duty" does not mean "is killed in combat". In the military context, it simply means that the member was on active duty or on authorized leave and did not cause his own death through willful misconduct. If a soldier dies in a snowmobiling accident on his day off, his family gets the full amount.

In 1962-68, the death gratuity was six months' base salary and the insurance policy was $10,000...it's gone up quite a bit. When my father's plane and crew disappeared in 1944 it was $10,000 period! So the government has generously increased this death benefit.

Our military are doing what they are paid to do---defend us.

What a difference a day makes

Yesterday, March 20, first official day of spring, the snow was nearly all melted. A week ago I saw the first robin on our back deck and yesterday we saw several robins in the front hunting for worms. No worms out yet, the evening temperatures still freeze and those crawlies stay snug far underground.

I walked the neighbor's dog with my jacket open and thought that at last this terrible winter would end and it would be spring. Easter is Sunday and I don't ever remember having Easter in the snow growing up in PA.

Yesterday I decided to get out some of my Easter bunny decorations and lighten up the living and dining room for Easter. The last few days we were out in the motor home, readying it for a short trip next weekend to Albert Lea for one of the Republican endorsing conventions to which I'm a delegate. It will be good dry run getting ready for our trip and reunion in Pella, IA end of April.

The weather forecasters predicted a snow but we hoped it would just pass us by or not stick and melt as quickly as it came down. Not so.

Woke up this morning to a blanket of white and still more tumbling white feathers from the sky. Phooey! By this time, I was sure the angels were done combing the dandruff from their hair! Enough with the white stuff!

So again today it's back to Jerry shoveling/snow blowing. Well it was his idea to move here to what has been the tundra winter; he's paid plenty penance. He says its all exercise, but I think if he were honest he'd admit he's seen enough white for awhile.

I suited and booted up to walk out into the white fluff to snap some photos to contrast how it all changed between yesterday and today. Spring tried to poke through but Jack Winter isn't done with us yet. What a difference between yesterday and today. My winter rose garden awaits spring.

Animal people

For the first time in our lives, after moving to MN we are without domestic animals, pets. Jerry is vehement that we not get any dogs or cats so that we can come and go when we want to. Besides we live in the city limits now, not like Newcastle, Ca where the animals had over 6 acres to roam free. Living in the "city" means a leash law and no loose animals.

Well every once in a while I peruse the want ads and think, maybe we should get some animal--a small poodle, a schnauzer, a Siamese cat--something that I could talk to. But as quickly as I mention it, Jerry puts his foot down again.

We have always had animals. Sometimes we had two or three head of dog; once along with the dogs, our circus included two Siamese cats and a cockatiel bird. I wanted such a bird after meeting one that a friend had which talked and was so adorable. George, the bird, was named for King George because we got him on Independence Day 1977. (Photo of George sitting on my arm 1977 above) He was a misnomer as after 4 years he went into a terrible molt. I didn't know what it was then, but he had hardly any feathers left and I thought he must surely be dying. What to do with a bird? Off to the bird doctor which took some searching and a referral of our veterinarian who did horses, goats, farm animals of all kinds, dogs and cats but not birds. As I recall, I packed George into a portable cage and drove about 40 minutes away, to somewhere in Carmichael.

The bird doctor took one look and said, "she is molting." Huh? She? turns out George had a "deferred hormonal system" which took 4 years to shake loose. And immediately following that she developed a deep psychological yearning to mate and was sexually frustrated. So She had pulled out all her feathers. This was according to the bird vet. I did not want to mate George. I learned that though George was amusing, sat on my shoulder and liked to fly around the house, the upkeep on a bird is tremendous. Seeds flew everywhere near the cage requiring daily vacuuming. Daily cage changes too due to other droppings. So the vet said, my other option was to administer thyroid medication to George and hope for the best.

This was a new challenge to animal husbandry for me--crush the thyroid pill in a teaspoon of water and pour down the bird's throat. Not at all as easy as it might sound. But somehow I persevered without wringing George's neck. By the way, the male cockatiel has the Bright orange/yellow spots on the cheeks. George had the great color so we never once thought he was a she. The vet explained that "it happens in the animal world, one sex is mistaken for another and so on." As we lived in CA this did not even surprise me--I worked around all kinds of people.

Well after several months George had restored herself and was back to looking colorful. But she developed a very strange habit of sitting on the bottom of her cage and swaying. Again, we watched this for several days; she was eating, but acting strange. I thought she was heavily constipated as she wasn't eating much and wasn't dirtying up the cage with droppings. Even odder, George refused to come out of her cage, screeching and pecking at me like she never did whenever I opened her door to let her out. Another phone call to the bird vet who said "she is likely trying to lay eggs but she will not be able to because she is sterile." Nobody told George who acted like this for about a week. One day we came home from work and there were two eggs in her cage. Only George wanted nothing to do with them. We removed the eggs and George went back to her normal self.

Only after her hormonal resurgence and her sex change she never did try talking again, no more "pretty bird." George shrieked so loud that we heard her a mile away outside out in the orchard. We had George for nearly 10 years. People told us that they didn't live but seven years max. No one told George.

We had two Siamese cats who ruled the house during the same time, Roscoe (male) and Mimi (female). We would come home and find Roscoe lying spread eagle across the top of the bird cage--one paw in the cage trolling. He never got to George. Roscoe trolled while George protested the intrusion by hiss, peck and nip at the troller.

George' demise came suddenly without warning. I felt responsible because at the time I was singing with a woman's chorus. I had the lead vocal parts and was working hard on the high ranges and soprano notes. George would screech with me. That Saturday I did not hear George singing along. He hit the higher notes easier than I did. One look into the cage revealed a peaceful George, on the floor. We buried George out in the back by the big oak trees and the swing, a park like area overlooking the hills. I've never since wanted another bird; one was all it took.

I remember my grandparents in PA had canaries. I always thought they were pretty. My grand pap had been a coal miner and raised canaries for the miners. My grandmother enjoyed the chirping. Grandpap was devoted to canaries because they advised miners of oxygen or bad air in the mines. My uncle told me that my grandfather, Teofil Kochanowski, was always crazy for animals and would go out of his way to get dogs, birds, whatever. I know he always had hunting dogs and Boston Terriers when I was growing up. He would cut their tails off--I always cried about that. I don't think Grandpap ever took a dog to the vet.

Uncle Carl told me that once when they were growing Grandpap brought a ground hog into the house and went to bed. I believe he came in late and had been out with some of the guys drinking "N Piwo" and possibly won this ground hog in a card game. The story goes that my grandmother arose bright and early the next morning, just like normal, came into her kitchen and saw a ground hog and likely broomed it out the door in no time. My grandma, Baba, was an excellent housekeeper and would not have wanted a wild animal in her house. When Granpap awoke and came downstairs, no trace of the animal. He asked where his ground hog was and Baba just looked at him, like "what the heck are you talking about, Pap?" She never admitted to anything and so Grandpap didn't confront her further. Uncle Carl said, that all he could say was, "no proof that Rose did anything." He knew he didn't have a ground hog anymore and never again brought one into the house that anyone knew. But now I know that I have likely inherited my love of animals from Granpap. Even worse, my son, Steve has compounded love of animals. Today in CA Steve loves his dog, Bandit. I know we were animal people but I'd never thought that it was an inherited trait.

My most famous best dog pal of all time was my Great Dane, ACE whom I'll write more about later. He was the dog of all dogs, in his heyday weighing about 170 pounds and still preferring to be a lap dog. He did commercials for the local Newcastle rib house starting a trend at folks sharing their animals love of Spencer's Ribs.

Our first Siamese cat, which found Jerry and became our famous Lady Godiva is another entertaining tale. When Jerry called and said, "Do we want a cat?" I said, "Sure but what about the dogs?" He replied, "Oh this cat will take care of herself." And she did claiming the house as her territory from the day she arrived. It turns out that she was in heat; this was likely the reason she had gotten out. Or someone had tossed her out. There is no earthly sound like a Siamese cat in heat! We lived in a two story home with high ceilings--she raced up and down the stairs, clawing the carpets, drapes and screaming. We took her to the vet, because I was sure she was sick. The car ride with her was absolute torture. The vet explained that she would soon pass through this but would be in perpetual heat unless she were fixed. We did not want to hear those screechy wails, so we had her fixed and peace was restored to Fair Oaks.

Lady Godiva became famous, featured in columns in the former Sacramento Union newspaper. She was a self taught toilet user. I accused Steve, our son, of neglecting to flush the toilet. I could not understand his behavior because he was about 9 at the time. "But Mom I do flush" This went on for several weeks until one day I was home alone, just me and Lady Godiva. I will never forget being at the counter between our kitchen and den and hearing a trickling noise in the bathroom off the den. I walked there and there sat Lady Godiva on the toilet. Indignant as only a Siamese can be! She looked at me as if to say, "Look I allow you your privacy, might you respect mine?" I could not wait for Jerry to get home to hear about this! We don't know how or why she figured it out. But she never did learn to flush! We never had to have those nasty cat boxes around!

Friends awaited the chance to witness this. She indignantly allowed people to observe her at toilet--all the while keeping her long Siamese tail up in the air over her head. She was quite the Siamese. When we moved her to Newcastle she transitioned to going out side too and became quite the huntress. Before that she had been a strictly an inside cat. It was a sad day when she layed down and gave it up after about 12 years. We buried her out in the backyard too.

We've enjoyed many animals as part of our family over the years and I will write more later. But for now after babysitting and walking Abby, my neighbor's old lab dog for a week while she went to FL, I am in complete agreement with Jerry. No more animals in the Morrison house.

For those who voted Democrat in 2006

America Asked for Change In 2006

A little over one year ago:
1) Consumer confidence stood at a 2 1/2 year high;
2) Regular gasoline sold for $2.19 a gallon;
3) The unemployment rate was 4.5%.

Since voting in a Democratic Congress in 2006 we have seen:

1) Consumer confidence plummet;
2) The cost of regular gasoline soar to over $3 a gallon;
3) Unemployment is up to 5% (a 10% increase);
4) American households have seen $2.3 trillion in equity value evaporate (stock and mutual fund losses);
5) Americans have seen their home equity drop by $1.2 trillion dollars;
6) 1% of American homes are in foreclosure.
7) The Democratic controlled Congress' approval rating has tanked to 11% by the American People, down from 31% two years ago before they took control and below the President's rating but the media do not report that do they?


America voted for change in 2006, and we got it! Of course, it’s always easier to blame the president, right

Easter 2008

Do you realize how early Easter is this year? It's March 23! Easter is always the 1st Sunday after the 1st full moon after the Spring Equinox (which is March 20). This dating of Easter is based on the lunar calendar that Hebrew people used to identify Passover, which is why it moves around in date on our Roman based calendar.

Based on the above, Easter can actually be one day earlier (March 22) but that is rare. Here's the interesting info. This year is the earliest Easter any of us will ever see the rest of our lives! And only the most elderly of our population have ever seen it this early (95 years old or above!). And none of us have ever, or will ever, see it a day earlier!

Facts:

1) The next time Easter will be this early (March 23) will be the year 2228 (220 years from now.)


2) The last time it was this early was 1913 (so if you're 95 or older, you are the only ones around for that!)


3) The next time it will be a day earlier, March 22, will be in the year 2285 (277 years from now.)

4) The last time it was on March 22 was 1818.

Tax Time

I'm in a bad mood. We just picked up the bad news from our CPA on our taxes. Seems the feds need more of our $$ to distribute to the least. This federal money laundering program has to stop. Adding insult to injury because we owe too much we get a penalty for under payment. How gross--did we know we'd get those capital gains? Fortunately we had some capital loss offsets too!

I especially hate paying income tax on Jerry's Social Security. After all, he was self employed paid the whole thing himself and we have already been taxed on it.

Well we bought the motor home end of the year so there will be far less interest to be taxed on next year. Our Brokerage accounts did well last year--but so far the market slumps will wipe that out in 2008.

I suppose some say be grateful that to pay income tax it shows we have income. That is not the point. We worked for this every bit of it! And just think if the Bush tax cuts are not extended we can pay more!

1510 Cedar Drive inthe snow

Taken Feb 18 2008 Snow on the roof which may not melt until April at the way this winter is going. See the high snow fence that lines the driveway. Too much white this year.

this is snow

Recently frends in Ohio have had snow--14 inches. Well this winter we got that much and more. Jerry is using the snow blower here and see these snow banks from blowing the snow out of the driveway? Well five foot high and more. So high that I can't see above them when I back the SUV out of the driveway. Now we have had snow. Today is March 9 and the snow is still 4 foot high in piles. We are supposed to get a couple days in the 40 degrees this week and that will really feel warm!

Change

This frustrates me because I always was one for change. But today some improvements are just not change for the better. Why can't they leave well enough alone? Now I know I'm getting old.

I've always been a champion for change, most often led change efforts at work, at church, in organizations, in life. At Curves, every month we change direction and order of our workouts--it keeps us thinking. Don't even get used to the layout of the grocery stores. The theory that abides, the more walking through the store, the more purchases one makes. One exception is our local grocery store in town--it's too small to mess with so familiarity rules. They can hardly move the bakery, deli, meat counters, or refrigerators, so we are fairly set.

But most changes evoke my "grrrr." My ISP claims to have expanded and improved its service. Not so! Now instead of emails coming directly to my inbox from folks who have emailed me forever, they get hung up in the ISP spam report. This means, I have to look at the daily report, which arrives in my own spam filter folder thanks to Nortons. Once there I have to either allow, whitelist, delete, blacklist, etc. One at a time. Why I ask my ISP do you have to mess with me?" Oh, it's a greater service. "No it's not," I say, "it's a pain in the neck. Can't you just bypass this on my system?" "Oh no, that's part of your service."

We do our banking online. Jerry started that long ago in CA. And just recently our bank, in the spirit of improvement changed all the screens again. It's not an improvement--we liked the old way better.

Our brokerage account also "improved" which now means I have to flip through a menu to get what used to display automatically. And I have to check multiple screens. I want it the way it used to be!

When did they quit making so many conveniences just to improve the products. Doesn't it cost to retool and aren't things expensive enough! Leave it alone already. Recently Jerry's 91 year old mother wanted Vaseline bath oil beads. She's used them for years. But now, huh unh. Try to find them--we did yesterday accidentally at a close out sale in Wal mart. Just one small thing they no longer are making.

Fortunately I have little desire or need to shop for clothes. Now this is a significant change to my life. Shopping had been a big recreation for me. But with retirement the wardrobe needs are sparser--jeans, shorts, t shirts, some sweaters. For this change I am thankful--because have you noticed the fashions? Why does every woman or girl have to wear maternity tops? Why when we work out and try to stay in shape must we wear sacks? Clothes are way beyond ugly. I thought the torn jeans were bad enough--look now at the resurgence of the polyester 70's. And the colors! Ugly! Fashion is not a positive change influence.

This weekend heralds another major change event--the changing of the hours of the days and nights--daylight savings time or whatever they call it!~ Why can't we just be allowed to naturally adjust to nature, sun, light? Why must we be forced to change time to save daylight? So Saturday night we have all our watches, clocks, alarms, etc. to set forward. Only the computer and the cell phone automatically reset themselves. The rest will all require us to make the adjustment. Another tinkering piece of change which now happens earlier in the year and lasts longer in the year!

Things that I wish would change don't and things I wish would stay the same don't. What's going on here! And by the way, when did I start resenting change!

Adult Children of normal parents.

Today I'm having several thoughts--none of which are life changing. It's Caesar Day for us --the day to give to Caesar the things that are for Caesar--and today to give a little more than what should be Caesar's. Income Tax Day--a quick meeting with our accountant, here in La Crescent. We'll get the rest of the bad news in a day or two. Larry chatted a bit to remind us how much better off we are here in the tundra--away and out of the clamor and clatter and over population of California.

In another post, I mentioned responsibility and I wonder if guilt has any place in that. And for parents, especially for career parents--those who never give it up--what an awful thing it must be. That a parent is forever, we know, but that a parent is the scapegoat, bearing the guilt for the mistakes of the children--when those children cross into adulthood, I don't think so. I'm not sure if it's responsibility or guilt. Or an absolute inability to let go!

I meet people who absolutely define themselves by their kids--never mind that these people are in their 60's or 70's--their conversations are first and foremost about their children and then by extension their children's children. Heck I'm related to people who do that! I don't think these people ever had an accomplishment that was not child or family centered. They often travel in a pack through life with those kids--they often are the ones who suffer most from an empty nest.

When a "kid" screws up, the parent (most often the career mom) takes offense, takes the blame, takes up for the kid.. I don't get it, why isn't the kid allowed to take their own blame? I'm talking about adult kids which generally means anyone over the legal age. When they clearly are responsible for their own actions or lack there of. When my son screwed up, did I defend him--heck no! I was old school, you got a double dose of the punishment and maybe learned lifelessons. As he screws up today, do I feel the need to rush to his defense? No. I can't--it's his path even when it's rough. Listening is one thing, but taking it on our own shoulders--not.

I have heard some parents who are new to the world of adult children brag that if children are brought up right they will always do right! Oh please! Get a life yourself! What about outside influences--what about the kid choosing to be a buffoon! Why do adult children of outstanding parents become delinquents, maladjusted and whatever even worse. And should that parent feel guilty--I think not.

Isn't there a time when the apron strings are cut--when Johnnie or Janie really have to do it on their own, when they have to grow up and fess up? Maybe that's part of what's wrong today--no one grows up--Peter Pan rules! Instead of raising the fledglings for independence, Peter Pan's parents settle for co-dependence. Perpetual Peter Pan parents---that's what they are.

We do what we can when we raise them. Often this is doing the best we can with what we have and what we know at the time. With the exception of psychopaths, no parent sets out to deliberately screw up their child's life. I prefer to be around adults who can actually discuss, talk, and think about something beyond their children. Barring that--give me a good book to read, or a keyboard---I have a thought to blog.

Wallow or move on in gratitude

Sheila Walsh is a Chirstian woman who often emails just the right thought when I need it. The italics are my thoughts the regular type is from Sheila.

Often at Buble study we talk about grace and gratitude. We can never be thankful enough to repay grace. Grace is a magnificent gift. For a long time when I was heavy into my career I kept a daily gratitude journal. Somedays would be tough and all I could be gratful for was that I got through that day! It was over, tomorow starts anew.

I learned that at least I can be grateful to be through with it. Whether it's a miserable experience or just a bad day. Gratitude for the endurance.

Recently Sheila wrote about a talk radio show, where the host's main concern is to speak the truth, however painful that may be to hear. And at times the truth is fairly brutal. The woman caller was very upset at her stepmother who had never lived up to the daughter's expectations of what a mother should be. The caller had never known her own mother, and for thirty years she had allowed herself to be wounded over and over when her new "mom" didn't measure up. I felt real sympathy for this woman. There are so many things in life that are just not fair.

(My comment here is notice that Sheila says, "allowed: herself to be wounded." This reminds us that we can't be wounded if we think about it--we have to allow it. We can certainly be hurt, but we can get over it!)

Life seems random and cruel to many people. The host didn't appear to share my sympathy. And I was struck by her simple message that has enormous potential to impact our lives. I'm paraphrasing a little, but she said something like this: You have a choice. You can spend your life being angry at what you did not get out of life or you can count your blessings for what you have. I thought about what she said for some time. We all have losses in our lives. But if we choose to feast on them every day, they numb our souls to all the good that God pours out on us every day.

We can choose to remain in a "stuck" place regretting what is not, or we can become alive and fully awake to what is good and true about our lives.

Sometimes we are so aware of what is not there that we miss what we have. Yet the very act of being grateful for what we do have multiplies our gratitude and opens our eyes so that we see that we have even more than we thought we had at the start. Can a grateful heart change our actions and our relationships?

Choose to act with a grateful heart. Cultivating gratitude removes us from being victims to being free to love and act as we are called to do. I believe that living with a thankful heart is a large part of that process. Waking the soul is more than a one-time conversion. It is a daily turning from what is destructive to what is Christ like.

That practice of gratitude is something I've kind of taken for granted here in retirement--even here in the tundra! What a great reminder of being thankful, of moving on in gratitude and of not wallowing.

Responsibility

Just the other day Jerry & I were talking about the big R word--responsibility. It seems that today it's popular for no one to assume responsibility for their own decisions, actions, choices particularly when the outcome is not all that positive. It's acceptable to be a victim or to blame someone else. It's acceptable to expect someone to do for, give to, etc, usually the government is expected to take care of.

Sometimes I get beyond annoyed with our son who in his 40's falls into that poor me syndrome. He's made some horrid choices and is paying a heavy price today. But there is no real way anyone rescues an adult. We have to suffer along sometimes and watch. We have to know when enough is more than enough.

Recently a friend emailed about his personal philosophy, reflected in the Henley poem, "Invictus." That poem centers on "I am the master of my fate".....responsibility. A recent Wall Street Journal article about Supreme Court Justice, Clarence Thomas, Mr. Constitution, emphasized responsiblity. Justice Thomas says that what's wrong today is people all want the benefits without taking or showing any responsibility first.

I posted something on this blog that really backfired when family read it. Not at all what I intended but it created bad hurt feelings. So I pulled that post. After all it's hardly going to get the literary award and why keep something that's perceived offensive even if it is so not intended to be so. Maybe that's chickening out.

But who's responsible for that--well I am. I wrote it. I posted it. I shared the blog and I got the big cream pie in the face. I got chastised for putting it out there. I think I can write/say whatever I think. Especially at this age. Beyond it all is the responsibility. A heavy word.

Put your foot in it

I learned so many things living in CA and experienced so much in diversity in that melting pot state that make me who I am today. I'm much better off for all of it and for all the friends I have there.

I remember a comment one day at work about food. Maybe we were enjoying one of those good office potlucks. Anyway, Rosemary said, "well you really put your foot in that dish!" What? I didn't know what she was talking about so had to ask.

Let me explain that Rosemary happens to be an African American. She said, "that's what the old folks say when they cook something real good and tasty! You put your foot in it. It's a compliment."

So I learned something--here I always thought to step in it or put your foot in your mouth was not a good thing. Just one little example of how we learn from others.

Now forward here to MN, land of the Norwegians, Germans, well you get it, the Mid-West. So at church a group of women gathered to listen to a Beth Moore DVD about Immeasurable Love. Beth said while speaking on this subject once that one of the women in the audience came up to her later and said, "Girl, I was about to throw my shoe at you. That was so good. You sure put your foot in it! I wanted mine there too" Beth had taken off her shoe to demonstrate and whacked it on the floor of the stage.

The women around our table looked very puzzled. But I fell out laughing. I knew what was meant and appreciated the expression! They looked at me like I was off again! Here in the Mid-west sometimes I feel like an alien. I explained the significance of "putting your foot in it." they asked how I knew that. I told them about Rosemary and the food. So we never know where what we learn at some point in our life will come in handy to teach somebody else some day.

Update 2012, I read the wonderful book, "House at Sugar Beach" by Helene Cooper and reviewed it on my book blog.  I learned a Liberian plea or promise or emphatic way of asking is " I hold your foot,  or I have your foot."  So there is some African  connection with putting the foot in it!  This post has attracted spammers and so I am  pulling it aside to drafts.  I really do not want these spam comments that continue to plague me.     Freedom 12/12/12 by blocking Anonymous comments the spammers are gone and this post is reactivated....

Why are we so unhappy

Republishing after losing the spammers when I blocked the ability to post anonymously to my blog.  Hooray and good riddance to rubish.  PULLING THIS BECAUSE OF SPAMMER INVASION 11-28-12
   Very interesting perspective that makes us think about pathetic negativity. This made the email rounds attributed to Jay Leno, but in fact only the last sentences are from Jay. The rest from someone else.

"The other day I was reading Newsweek magazine and came across some poll data I found rather hard to believe. It must be true, given the source, right? The Newsweek poll alleges that 67 percent of Americans are unhappy with the direction the country is headed, and 69 percent of the country is unhappy with the performance of the President. In essence, 2/3's of the citizenry just ain't happy and want a change.

So being the knuckle dragger I am, I started thinking, ''What are we so unhappy about?''

Is it that we have electricity and running water 24 hours a day, 7 days a week? Is our unhappiness the result of having air conditioning in the summer and heating in the winter? Could it be that 95.4 percent of these unhappy folks have a job? Maybe it is the ability to walk into a grocery store at any time, and see more food in moments than Darfur has seen in the last year? Maybe it is the ability to drive from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean without having to present identification papers as we move through each state? Or possibly the hundreds of clean and safe motels we would find along the way that can provide temporary shelter? I guess having thousands of restaurants with varying cuisine from around the world is just not good enough. Or could it be that when we wreck our car, emergency workers show up and > provide services to help all, and even send a helicopter to take you to the hospital.

Perhaps you are one of the 70 percent of Americans who own a home. You may be upset with knowing that in the unfortunate case of a fire, a group of trained firefighters will appear in moments and use top notch equipment to extinguish the flames thus saving you, your family and your belongings. Or if, while at home watching one of your many flat screen TVs , a burglar or prowler intrudes , an officer equipped with a gun and a bullet-proof vest will come to defend you and your family against attack or loss.

This all in the backdrop of a neighborhood free of bombs or militias raping and pillaging the residents. Neighborhoods where 90 percent of teenagers own cell phones and computers. How about the complete religious, social and political freedoms we enjoy that are the envy of everyone in the world? Maybe that is what has 67 percent of you folks unhappy.

Fact is, we are the largest group of ungrateful, spoiled brats the world has ever seen. No wonder the world loves the U.S. , yet has a great disdain for its citizens. They see us for what we are The most blessed people in the world who do nothing but complain about what we don't have , and what we hate about the country instead of thanking the good Lord we live here.

I know, I know. What about the President who took us into war and has no plan to get us out? The President who has a measly 31 percent approval rating? Is this the same President who guided the nation in the dark days after 9/11? The President that cut taxes to bring an economy out of recession? Could this be the same guy who has been called every name in the book for keeping all the> spoiled ungrateful brats safe from terrorist attacks? The Commander-In Chief of an all-volunteer army that is out there defending you and me?

Did you hear how bad the President is on the news or talk show? Did this news affect you so much, make you so unhappy you couldn't take a look around for yourself and see all the good things and be glad?

Think about it...are you upset at the President because he actually caused you personal pain OR is it because the "Media" told you he was failing to kiss your sorry ungrateful behind every day.

Make no mistake about it. The troops in Iraq and Afghanistan have volunteered to serve, and in many cases may have died for your freedom. There is currently no draft in this country. They didn't have to go. They are able to refuse to go and end up with either a ''general'' discharge, an ''other than honorable'' discharge or, worst case scenario, a ''dishonorable'' discharge after a few days in the brig.

So why then the flat-out discontentment in the minds of 69 percent of Americans? Say what you want, but I blame it on the media. If it bleeds, it leads; and they specialize in bad news. Everybody will watch a car crash with blood and guts. How many will watch kids selling lemonade at the corner? The media knows this and media outlets are for-profit corporations. They offer what sells , and when criticized, try to defend their actions by "justifying" them in one way or another. Just ask why they tried to allow a murderer like O.J. Simpson to write a book about "how he didn't kill his wife, but if he did he would have done it this way"...Insane!

Stop buying the negativism you are fed everyday by the media. Shut off the TV, burn Newsweek, and use the New York Times for the bottom of your bird cage. Then start being grateful for all we have as a country. There is exponentially more good than bad. We are among the most blessed people on Earth, and should thank God several times a day, or at least be thankful and appreciative.

"With hurricanes, tornadoes, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, "Are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?" Jay Leno 2007

Favorite Stanley Kunitz Poem The Layers

Reposting after pulling this from spammers.  Now that I have removed the ability to post anonymously to this blog, problem solved!  Hooray and good riddance to bad rubbish and all the rest. I include here just one photo from my late Uncle Carl's home which we had to clean out for the estate sale and eventual home sale, in PA.  There were many layers to clear.  Carl had accumulated so much over a  lifetime of 93 years.  Now today, looking back I wish I could have kept more, but I do not need more things for memories and after all, there is a limit to what we can accumulate.    

When we lived in CA a group of us  formed a memorize and recite poetry group. Most of the group were far more liberal politically in their views  than me, but we shared a love of making poetry ours by memorizing. This group was the brainchild of  Susan Rushton, a local reporter, and I miss that camaraderie.  We met once a month.  This is one that I chose that has stayed with me ever since..

Stanley Kunitz died in 2006 at the age of 100; he had been a US Poet Laureate This poem reminds me of The Road by Cormac McCarthy and like that book,  it can be a sad tribute to life.

The Layers

I have walked through many lives, some of them my own,

and I am not who I was,

though some principle of being abides,

from which I struggle not to stray.

When I look behind,

as I am compelled to look before I can gather strength

to proceed on my journey,

I see the milestones dwindling toward the horizon

and the slow fires trailing from the abandoned camp-sites,

over which scavenger angels wheel on heavy wings.

Oh, I have made myself a tribe out of my true affections,

and my tribe is scattered!

How shall the heart be reconciled to its feast of losses?

In a rising wind the manic dust of my friends,

those who fell along the way,

bitterly stings my face.

Yet I turn, I turn,

exulting somewhat,

with my will intact to go wherever I need to go,

and every stone on the road precious to me.

In my darkest night,when the moon was covered

and I roamed through wreckage,

a nimbus-clouded voice directed me:

"Live in the layers,not on the litter."

Though I lack the art to decipher it,

no doubt the next chapter in my book of transformations is already written.

I am not done with my changes.

 

Why we Drink Alcohol

The Value of a Drink "Sometimes when I reflect back on all the wine I drink I feel shame. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the vineyards and all of their hopes and dreams .. If I didn't drink this wine, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself, "It is better that I drink this wine and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver." ~ Jack Handy WARNING: The consumption of alcohol may leave you wondering what the hell happened to your bra and panties.


"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day. " ~Dean Martin

"When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading." ~ Henny Youngman

"When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. So, let's all get drunk and go to heaven!" ~ Brian O'Rourke


"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy." ~ Benjamin Franklin


And saving the Jerry's favorite for last, as explained by Cliff Clavin,of Cheers. One afternoon at Cheers, Cliff Clavin was explaining the Buffalo Theory to his buddy Norm. Here's how it went:

"Well ya see, Norm, it's like this... A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Excessive intake of alcohol, as we know, kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. That's why you always feel smarter after a few beers."

Good thoughts on every woman should

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
A set of screwdrivers,a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
One friend who Always makes her Laugh... And one Who lets her cry...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...
A good piece of furniture not previously owned by Anyone else in her family...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
Eight matching plates,Wine glasses with stems, And a recipe for a meal that will make her guests feel honored.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE...

A feeling of control over Her destiny...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...

How to fall in love Without losing herself...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW... How to quit a job

AND confront a friend without ruining their friendship...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
When to try harder... and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...

when to ignore and when to react

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
That she can't change The length of her calves, the shape of her head..

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW

Exercise, a great haircut and GOOD make up go a long ways

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
That her childhood May not have been Perfect... but; Its over...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
What she would and Wouldn't Do for love or more...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
How to live alone... even if She doesn't like it...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.

Whom she can trust, Whom she can't, And why she shouldn't Take it personally...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW

Where to go.. Be it to her best friend's kitchen table, her cell phone, a walk around the block, or a drive in the country...When her soul needs soothing...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
What she can and can't accomplish In a day... A month...And a year...

A favorite poem

I AM THERE

Do you need Me ?I am there.
You cannot see Me, yet I am the light you see by.You cannot hear Me, yet I speak through your voice.You cannot feel Me, yet I am the power at work in your hands.
I am at work, though you do not understand My ways.I am at work, though you do not understand My works.I am not strange visions. I am not mysteries.
Only in absolute stillness, beyond self, can you know Meas I AM, and then but as a feeling and a faith.

Yet I am here. Yet I hear. Yet I answer.When you need ME, I am there.Even if you deny Me, I am there.Even when you feel most alone, I am there.Even in your fears, I am there.Even in your pain, I am there.

I am there when you pray and when you do not pray.I am in you, and you are in Me.Only in your mind can you feel separate from Me, foronly in your mind are the mists of "yours" and "mine".Yet only with your mind can you know Me and experience Me.
Empty your heart of empty fears.When you get yourself out of the way, I am there.You can of yourself do nothing, but I can do all.And I AM in all.
Though you may not see the good, good is there, forI am there. I am there because I have to be, because I AM.

Only in Me does the world have meaning; only out of Me does the world take form; only because of ME does the world go forward.I am the law on which the movement of the stars and the growth of living cells are founded.

I am the love that is the law's fulfilling. I am assurance.I am peace. I am oneness. I am the law that you can live by.I am the love that you can cling to. I am your assurance.I am your peace. I am ONE with you. I am.

Though you fail to find ME, I do not fail you.Though your faith in Me is unsure, My faith in you neverwavers, because I know you, because I love you.

Beloved, I AM there.
--- James Dillet Freeman

Note: This poem received a lot of attention in 1971 when it was taken to the moon by astronaut James B. Irwin on Apollo 15. Irwin's mother gave it to him before the flight and he actually left a copy of the poem on the moon. The author, James Dillet Freeman, was poet laureate of the Unity School of Christianity at Unity Village. He wrote the poem in 1947. James left this world in 2003. I had the pleasure of meeting him and hearing him read some of his poetry in Sacramento, CA

My very favorite joke

GIVING UP WINE
I was walking down the street when I was accosted by a particularly dirty and shabby-looking homeless woman who asked me for a couple of dollars for dinner. I took out my wallet, got out ten dollars and asked, 'If I give you this money, will you buy wine with it instead of dinner?' 'No I had to stop drinking years ago,' the homeless woman told me.

'Will you use it to go shopping instead of buying food?' I asked 'No, I don't waste time shopping,' the homeless woman said. 'I need to spend all my time trying to stay alive.'

'Will you spend this on a beauty salon instead of food?' I asked.

'Are you NUTS !' replied the homeless woman. ' I haven't had my hair done in 20 years!' 'Well,' I said, 'I'm not going to give you the money. Instead, I'm going to take you out for dinner with my husband and me tonight.' The homeless Woman was shocked. 'Won't your husband be furious with you for doing that? I know I'm dirty, and I probably smell pretty disgusting.'

I said, 'That's okay. It's important for him to see what a woman looks like after she has given up shopping, hair appointments, and wine.'

About my father and me

Last year I kept busy with research and writing a tribute to my father, getting him and his crew memorialized correctly at the WWII monument, and going through a lot of grieving after 60 + years reservoir of sadness in a Wall of Silence!

The photo includes my dad, standing back row far left,hand in pocket, pilot on that fatal flight with the entire Combat Crew 193. I have all their names but cannot identify them in the photo.

Thought you might be interested in reading , the tribute on the American World War II Orphans Network, AWON website, through the link that follows. If for any reason that does not work for you, you can Google AWON and scroll through the fathers' tributes...it's been quite a journey and were it not for this organization I'd still be thinking I was the only one who lost a father in WWII, whom I never knew, never heard much about and was ignored by his family. Actually there were more than 180,000 of us who lost fathers and who were deemed "Orphans" by our government. I've learned that many of us now in our 60's and many older lived the same loss experiences all across the country. The Wall of Silence was the way of coping that crossed cultures, parts of the country, ages. ...And many of us today are all we have.

Jerry & I found material when cleaning out my mother's house in PA after she died suddenly in 2004. What a treasure chest that she had kept through the years. Wish she could have talked about it when she was alive. Anyway, now I have accomplished another one of my retirement goals!! I use the signature below in corresponding with AWONers and the military about this ...

http://www.awon.org/awball.html


daughter of 2LT Lewis S. Ball
MIA June 20, 1944 flight enroute from Nassau,Bahamas to Charleston, SC
113th Army Air Corps, Combat Crew 193 Charleston Army Air Field

Political journey

When I was growing up Catholic in PA and JFK ran for President I lived in the most thrilling time ever. In college 1962-63 I remember how we sat in the dorm main room around the only TV watching the news about the Bay of Pigs. Back in those days we were in same sex only (female) dorms and shared a room with a roommate. Our rooms had a bed and a small desk where we could Study! We had no personal TV's, microwaves,cell phones, refrigerators--none of that stuff. How primitive this would be today! Anyhow we all supported our President and looked sadly around worrying about war. I especially worried about war and deaths. Those who know my life of losing my father WWII months before I was born know that it really bothered me.

Flash forward to CA and myself lying pregnant, knowing this first marriage was the biggest mistake I'd ever made, across the country from anyone and wondering what the *&^% I was to do while the black and white TV showed President Kennedy had been shot. I was so sick and so pregnant and now this. Surely not. I have read everything about the assassination of President Kennedy and still do not believe we know the truth. But I won't go there. Leave the speculation to others.

Move forward in time now to the 60's. Jerry & I were married and settled with Steve in our first home in Fair Oaks. I'm still a registered Democrat and Bobby Kennedy is now running. Then his assassination. I was devastated; there went our political hopes.

Sometime later and I don't know when, but I knew that I was not a Democrat. Actually we had become successful and I hated paying more and more taxes. We were part of the Jarvis Gann property tax revolution in CA which was something we benefited from as long as we lived in CA. A good thing.

I realized I was more a Republican but I sure did not like Richard Nixon. Never had. After his resignation I changed my party registration to Republican. I'm sure it was due to Reagan, whom I idolized and was so proud to begin working for at the state while he was still Governor. We were so happy when he ran for and became president! Such wit and managerial style He appointed good smart people who gave him good advice. (I am mostly impressed with smart--I don't do stupid at all!) I remember being advised when we worked on a welfare cost containment proposal that it would be presented to an incoming Democrat, Jerry Brown and his administration. Right then things became real clear to me that there is a big difference in political philosophies. I naively asked if they would not want the truth! What a laugh that brought from my colleagues and manager! So I learned more about politics.

Incidentally, Gov Moonbeam Brown had the strangest appointees. But you know they were deeply human and always concerned about those who worked in the system. True they started the worst thing to ever happen in CA state government--unions and affirmative action. But that's the way they believed, I think. I have other stories about some of those appointees.

I do remember voting for Jimmy Carter. Wow was that a big bad mistake! I remember thinking, "He seems human. He even carries his own suitcase! He wears jeans" What a way to waste a vote!

Now it's 2007 and I know that I'm not always a Republican, but I sure am not a Democrat. Independent doesn't appeal to me at all; what fun would that be to have no candidate? So I remain a registered Republican and go along with most of it. But I seriously depart from the ultra right wing (mostly old men and women) who ride the Abortion soapbox. I am for the woman's right to choose--always have been always will be. It is the most difficult decision a woman will ever have to make and it should be between she and her doctor! Don't tell me anything else! Don't mess with Roe v. Wade and quit wasting my time with your drivel! Besides that let science do it's thing with stem cell research! Sheesh!

Still the choice is not enough to make me support Hillary or Barack! McCain was not my first choice either but that's what we have going for us.

So here I sit in MN in Hubert Humphrey land surrounded by more Dems than ever. At least where we lived in Placer County in CA there were many Republicans. Here every school teacher or farmer has their hand out for $$ and are Dems. They call themselves DFL= Democratic Farm Labor. That says it all. I think these people just don't know any better. Lots of them born and raised in the same place and never lived anyplace else!

But Jerry--now he has been a registered Democrat all his voting life. He says it is because of Truman. I guess he liked Harry. He thinks it's funny and says that his party never sends mailings asking for money nor do they call and ask for $$. Well he's got that right. When Arnold Schwarzenegger became Gov of CA, I thought he'd be the answer to troubles but he backed way off. Arnold came with Maria Shriver, his wife, a life long Democrat--a Kennedy. So I laugh and tell people that Jerry is my Maria. Actually I know that Jerry votes more Republican than I do some time! He's a Rush listener, NRA supporter, etc. Hard core Republican but just won't change his registration. When we moved to MN I thought surely he'd change his registration to Republican. But no he didn't. So he accompanies me to most Republican events, supports Republicans and tells them that he's a Democrat. Gregg Davids, our former state rep. who lost his seat in the anti-Bush, Republican backlash last election but is running again laughs. He says that Jerry can be the head of the Democrats for Davids!

So I'm continuing in retirement some involvement in local and state race candidates. I'm a delegate to the endorsing district and state conventions. I have to learn about MN politics. The caucuses are very different. I sure would prefer a primary but don't think I'll be the one to change that. If I get bored, or frustrated, I'll sit back. For now, it's a way to meet more people and the candidates. I miss the insider info. I had when I was a state of CA mgr.

And so for my Polish grandfather who desperately struggled to learn English, become a citizen and believed this the greatest country in the world, I keep an interest in politics. Umh, I know as a coal miner he was a Union guy and a Democrat, but sorry, Grandpap, this only goes so far.

Why I blog

So often I have thoughts that I think are great....well they are to me. I have to write that down. Or I'll be talking to a friend who says, "you really should write that story." Or I'll tell what happened to me in such a funny way that people are rolling laughing--I believe that if it's funny someday it will be funny today. I've often thought I'd like to write a book, a story, TGAN (the great American novel). Thought I'd start after I retired but not so. I have written pages on different things,events, feelings, etc. Memoirs why not mine?

Retirement move to the middle of the country in 2005 after a 3 year plan is an adventure itself to put into words. So too our construction project of 2006-07. Or how about the Final Slap--how my mother's death in 2004 revealed scoundrels. I never thought it would be. Disappointment and triumphs? How putting it all into God's hands is the only release.

SIL Katie asked me, "Do you blog?" No I didn't. Who knows why I didn't. I can spend hours on the emails. I will generally respond to all my emails and can write at length and likely tell people more than they ever thought they wanted to know/hear.

I've always been one to write--even letters ages ago. Old relatives said they always looked forward to my letters which would have more detail than anyone's. I'd even mention the color of new pajamas for Christmas. Somehow writing is an outlet for me. I like to talk too but I really like to write--let my fingers do the talking. And sometimes there is just not anyone to talk to when I want to. Certainly I don't have the connections now that I did in my career days. I have lost friends and relatives and a few who were my bestest talking buddies. It takes years to build that closeness and here in this midwest vast land of family roots I haven't found so many to talk with. Most are centered in their well established and rooted selves and families. Some are way older, some younger.

A line in the play, "Company" says something like, "We are too old for the young and too young for the old." I feel like that the "squozen generation."

So finally today I start my blog. After thinking about a website and deciding I didn't want to spend $ until I was sure this would not be a novelty, I decided to blog. So here it is world, ready or not.

And besides when we travel I can record our journeys on the RV road. That is as long as we have wireless connection. Another issue to resolve.