Wednesday, November 30, 2005

I'm going to ask a favor. I have to go to court tomorrow afternoon, and I'm scared silly. Please just think some good thoughts for me. Not asking for prayers, because with all the bad things in the world, I can't justify God's intervention in something this stupid, but a little moral support would be great!!

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


Sometimes, out of the cosmic chaos, questions that we thought could not be answered are brought into alignment with answers that can not be questioned. My
son had written a post yesterday, a very soul searching one, in which he tries to come to terms with how his deployment has changed him into the man he is. It is heartbreaking as a mother to know that I will never fully understand what he will deal with, that I can’t fix things anymore with hugs and kisses. All I can do is listen and love; while those are no small things, they feel so inadequate sometimes.
ArmyWifeToddlerMom links to post by another Army mom, who says everything my heart has known and wanted to say for a few years now, but so much better than I ever could:

“We mothers joke that we would go over and cook, clean and do laundry for our sons and daughters, but the truth is, we would trade places with them in a heartbeat to keep them safe.”

“People -- especially other mothers -- tell me that they can not imagine what that would be like... that they would be a basket case 24 hours a day. Yes, that's it. It's like you live standing on your tippy-toes every day your child is away... and you live on the edge of breathlessness... a mental asthma attack gasping and gasping for strength and sanity and peace of mind. On the outside, we smile bravely and say, "you find the strength." And we do find the strength, but the truth is that we really only find distractions from our worry, our anxiety, our heartache.”
“And mixed with this fear and longing is pride. Indescribable pride for these children of ours. Pride that they made the choice to serve. Pride that they accepted the challenge and met it spectacularly! Pride that they do their jobs under the most extraordinary of circumstances. We often ask ourselves, "Did I raise this person?" "How could I have done things so right?" We know we are blessed to have these spectacular creatures in our lives. “

Read the whole thing. I think the empty spaces and places between a soldier's heart and the mom who loves him just got a little smaller.

Monday, November 28, 2005

A Christmas poem

Once upon a Christmas dreary, while I pondered, bleak not cheery,
Over many a box of forgotten angels and reindeer-
Sorting through the tangled lights, blues and reds and greens and whites,
Giving up without a fight, and cursing for all to hear.

Snowmen that have lost heir heads, moldy, crusty gingerbread,
How all this came to pass I have no clue.
A burnt out socket on the wall, broken glass from clear red balls,
A Christmas tree that's far too tall, and really ugly too.

A half-price pre-lit tree from Ace, sturdy with a metal base,
Those lights they mock me as they all stay dark.
Elusive slippery shiny garland, Fishing Santa's hook in my hand,
I cracked my head on the tree stand, damn, that'll leave a mark.

Mr. & Mrs. Santa dolls, a singing Rudolph on the wall,
The mantel guarded by the fierce nutcrackers.
We've got the star, we've got the sled, I've decorated til I'm dead
And now this poem has to end..

Because the only thing I can think of to rhyme with Nutcracker is butt smacker, and that just ain't right.

When you set a match to your heart,
Fueling it with bitterness and doubt.
That's the place that once it starts,
No amount of tears can put out.
I know you're scared, but no one's spared,
When you play with matches.
You got me walking through fire.

Damn!! Sorry to do that to you- f*n earworms!

Anyway, good news abounds! Not only will the daughter be here for Christmas, Germany son will be here around then also AND....Iraq son will be leaving there two days after, rather than after mid-January.

We Get By With A Little Help...

Sometimes the sweetest things can happen from something you are dreading, you know? On Sunday morning, I had to be at the VFW Post bright and early to do breakfast and membership round-up for some Department of Illinois high and mighty officers. I was really hating this, since I have done it for the 6th District for three years in a row now. The turnout was lousy as usual; really, you can't expect ladies from Galena, Savanna, Hanover, etc. to come to Rochelle at 9:00 on a Sunday morning. But, my morning efforts were redeemd when one of the officers asked me if I knew of any soldiers that would need Christmas care packages.


I hope Matt doesn't mind me passing some names on; organizations like the VFW and its Auxiliaries know enough to only use names and addresses within their own structure. I'm a firm believer that love, much like time and patience, is better multiplied than divided.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

An Awful Truth

I'm going to state this, and you have to take it as truth. I can't prove it, you can't disprove it- it's just there.
I dream. Well, most people do. Can't say that I know how this works for others, but I can not remember one time in my entire life that I have had a dream that left me feeling happy when I woke up. No blissful nocturnal meanderings for me in the Land of Nod. My nights are violent, dark, catastrophic. One of the more recurring themes is driving, the headlights stop working, I can't see anymore but still I'm driving on, I don't know where I am and THINGS are jumping out at me from the side of the road. I'm barely missing them and I can't SEE. Thank goodness, most of my dreams are remembered only in bits and pieces the next day, leaving a vague shadow on the soul, a slight frown from some half imagined scene that retreats even further when chased.

Sometimes they come true.

Not often. Enough to be terrifying when they do. This started happening to me when I was 10 or 11. The first one I remember was over summer vacation, and one of my best friends was going away for most of it. I dreamed of her- she was riding a pony on one of those little carnival rides, where the ponies circled forever, tethered to their wheel. She had her hands over her ears, and was crying.
This bothered me all summer. When she came back, she had gotten her ears pierced and they were terribly infected. And her brother had fallen off a horse and broken his neck.

So...I have a need to treat these like you would a wish. If you tell, they won't come true.

Last night, I dreamed I was trying to pull something up a snowy, icy hill. An old veteran was helping me, his name was Chief, and I felt so bad that he was helping me because he was so frail. But I couldn't breathe, there was no air for me, but no, HE was the one who couldn't breathe, except he just stood there smiling at me.
That's it, that's all I can remember clearly. More than enough, thank you.

This morning, a friend of mine called me and asked if I could pick some things up from her house today. Her husband, who is in his mid-80's and a WWII veteran, is in the hospital. John, whose nickname is not Chief, is very frail, but always has a smile on his face. His blood pressure is very low, and they have found a spot on his lung.

If I tell, it won't come true.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Fractured Fairy Tale, Part II

“Hey, who’s the guy in that G*D awful bowling shirt?”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Walking into Fritz’s is a guy wearing what looked to be a retro-50’s bowling shirt, and green and gold kilt adorned with a “G”. But his head! It looked vaguely familiar- a large, gaseous green appendage with a fu manchu mustache. T1G slowly turned around on his barstool, then clamped his hand over my mouth before I could say anything else.
“Shhh! Don’t let him hear that! That’s
Contagion was followed into the bar a small svelte blonde, who I would have hated immediately for just those reasons had I not been losing consciousness from T1G’s hand covering almost my whole face. Damn, she even had Celtic Knot earrings. I coveted in silence.
“Er, let’s all move to a table, okay?”, T1G said nervously.
We made our way through to a table in the back. Contagion immediately started pounding on it, yelling, “Whiskey! Now!” Fritz showed up at his elbow with said whiskey, neat. Not knowing quite what to do, I stood up to introduce myself.
“Quiet, minion! I am the All-knowing and All-Powerful Contagion, this is my wife Ktreva and I have not given you permission to speak!”
I hastily sat back down, shooting a confused look at T1G, who just shrugged and ordered another Amber. Thankfully, the awkwardness of the moment was relieved by the arrival of Tammi. Finally! I would get to meet her! All my prior imaginings were dispelled in a minute as she positively glided into Fritz’s as if walking on air. Hmm, hadn’t expected the tiara, either. But I stood up to give her a hug anyway, and was poked in the chest by her wand.
“Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?” Tammi said.

This whole meeting was getting stranger by the minute.

To be continued...

Due to the home computer still being in the shop, a belated Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. I hope it was a good one.
I got up early Thursday morning to get started on my areas of responsibilty for the day's feast. Started with the pumpkin pies for home. Good Lord, in case anyone ever told you it is unacceptable to have warm pumpkin pie for breakfast, BALDERDASH! Even when you're almost 50, it's still fun to break the rules.
Pies out of the way, I made turkey and dressing, the turkey for us and the dressing to take to my sister's. IMHO, dressing just doesn't taste right if it hasn't taken up residence in the ass end of the bird, but it was passable.
So we bundled up and headed out. For two large families getting together, we had enough food for three times that many. We got to spend some good quality time with The Heiress and nieces and nephews, sisters and parents.
All said, a lot to be thankful for. Especially three of my sisters and my brother. Helping me out even though I did not ask.

Other randomness: is this a good thing or a bad thing? When Sarge and I were getting groceries earlier this week, I was adding my paycheck into my register and commented that I'd made X$ so far this year. He gave me a funny look, and said that I had made more than him. And since then, he's made dinner (WTF!! Lasagne from scratch!) and called me to ask for a honey do list. I'm scared.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Fractured Fairy Tale, Part 1

Last Saturday, I decided it was high time that I met with
Tammi in person, rather than email or apparition. A mini blogmeet was going to be held at Fritz’s, so I took the plunge and headed north.
As I walked into the bar, T1G was sitting in his usual spot, morosely nursing an Amber and huge glass of ice water.
“Hey, T1G, how’s it going? No Tammi yet?”
T1G glanced up in my direction, then returned to his mug.
“Bad, and nope.”
What the hell? I thought. Then I noticed that the bar décor had changed since my last visit. Every few feet, there were copper spikes sticking out of the bar. Looking around, I saw spikes placed all over- at the tables, over the bathroom doors, at the golf machine. It was surreal.
“Um, what’s with all the spikes? They kind of look like..”
“Lightning rods.”
“What? Why?”
As if it were possible, T1G hung even farther over his beer mug. “See,” he said, “this whole Son of G*d has gotten out of control.” He then proceeded to tell me the whole sorry tale of the night before. Seems that much revelry was taking place, and one of his minions had even gone so far as to buy him a Jeebus action figure on wheels. Apparently, the REAL Almighty was mightily upset, and proceeded to pelt the bar with lightning bolts. T1G had the bad luck of being struck by one, and the shock of it resulted in not only praying to The Big Guy, but the porcelain god as well. Before Fritz would let him come back, he had to supply the place with enough lightning rods so that Fritz didn’t have to pay the bartenders for hazardous duty.
“Oh well, T1G, things could be worse.”

I couldn’t have been more wrong. The front door opened.

“Hey, who’s the guy in that G*D awful bowling shirt?”

To be continued….


Less than three hours and I got soldiers!! BIG HUGE thank you's to:
T1G, who was smart enough to send the call out to
Matt. Fixed me right up with some kids that don't have much for family at home. And THEN, I get an email from Janette from Soldiers Angels for a unit that's been taking heavy casualities and need to know that they are thought of.

Soldiers and the people that love them have GOT to be the most special people on Earth. I just can't thank you enough.

I Need Help

Looking at the post title, there's probably a few of you having a "no shit" moment. But this is for real- I have a problem, in a good way.
For the last few years, my VFW Auxiliary has been sending out care packages to armed forces personnel stationed in Iraq or Afghanistan. The local school kids have been great with collecting items and helping us pack up boxes. This morning I got a call that the 7th & 8th graders in Kings have spent three months collecting things for care packages, which is outstanding! My problem? Everyone we HAD been sending to is either stateside, out of the service or, like my son, not able to receive mail for Christmas because he's coming home soon.
So...does anyone know of a soldier, sailor or Marine in need of some TLC for the holidays? Anyone just deployed for OIF4 or OEF? They don't necessarily have to be Illinois kids, either. I've sent an email to
Soldiers Angels also, but I'll gladly take addresses. I really don't want to disppoint these school kids.

OH! And never, NEVER give out personal information on military personnel to anyone- me included- unless you know that they are the real deal.

Oh Damn

I thought I'd be safe calling Tammi this early in the morning after we all got tagged by the damn alarm clock meme. UH OH! Memo to self- don't do that again.

But at any rate, it was like driving through warp drive this morning. Snow blowing straight at the windshield. Blech. The further east I went, the worse it got. And since my night blindness is legendary, it was one hell of a ride. At least the roads weren't total crap.

OH! If anyone emailed me at work, rather than my "real" email, it's gone. History. SOMEONE got the system infected with a virus. I'd tell you who, but he signs my paycheck.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005


I'm too pissed right now to post. Up until this morning, I was looking forward to a nice four day weekend. Due to union contracts, we have NEVER delivered stone after Thanksgiving- it's double time and a half for the Teamsters. Well, I don't know who's blowing who, but I will be working Friday and Saturday now.
Oh, and tomorrow? A regular work day? Not damn thing scheduled.

Monday, November 21, 2005

My dear husband despairs of ever understanding what I find attractive in other men. Why I would think an older, balding man is dead straight sexy is beyond him.


So the big smile I get on my face everytime the Vice President speaks puzzles him to no end. How can you read something like
this and NOT have carnal thoughts?

Or is it just me?

So I promised..

Usually, if I promise not to post someone's picture on my blog, I keep my promise. However, since Tammi took this with my camera, it shouldn't count, right?

Saturday night at Fritz's
Image hosted by

I think she did something to my camera, though.

Shotgun Season- Update II

I was hoping to have lots of great pictures from first season to post, but....button bucks just aren't worth it. And Sarge got nuthin'. I swear, I saw more deer coming back from Fritz's Saturday night than he did all weekend.
But I did get my backstrap dinner!
There are occassions when I must give my brother his due, and he is one hell of a grillmaster. He also busted out with about 40 lbs. of moose for me to take home. For all the shit we give each other, I DO adore him. Just don't tell. I cooked moose for dinner last night, and it was absolute heaven.

Tagged like...a deer

You know what happens when you actually venture out and meet the people whose blogs you read? They tag you with memes. I hate these. They make me rage. So thanks to
Contagion, instead of the brilliantly witty Fractured Fairy Tale I was going to write, I will answer this.

1. Do you use an alarm clock to wake up in the morning?

Not usually, I have hot flashes and a pea sized bladder that do a much better job.

2. What time do you set it for?

(sigh) 3:30 a.m. In case you didn't know, there are some misguided souls who believe the optimum time for loading stone trucks is when it's too dark to see them, too dark for the drivers to see an unlit scale, and too early for me to have a really good caffeine buzz on.

3. Do you hit the snooze button? If so how many times?

Never. If the alarm actually had to be used, I'd be bolt right awake in two seconds.

4. Have you ever abused an alarm clock?

Why would I do that when there is a perfectly good warm body next to me to vent my displeasure on?

5. It’s time to spread some It’s Blogcess” linky love.
This isn't a question. Does it actually count?

Okay, there it is. Go ahead, ask me again about the deerskin and bones.

Friday, November 18, 2005

Shotgun Season- Update I

The family is hunting on two properties this year- my brother's 50 acres and my cousin's 10 acres just down the road. Sarge just called that he had a bad shot at an 8 pt., which drove him over to my cousin's stand and Mark got him. It's his very first time hunting, so he's got to be thrilled to get a nice buck like that first thing.

And please say your prayers to the deer gods that Sarge gets one soon. Preferably bigger than a German shepherd.

Odds and Odder

Pardon me. I have been duly chastised about the state of our weather. Apparently some people believe it isn't really cold until the wind chill hits 40 below or Brett Faivre uses hand warmers. My humble apologies.

What is it about babies that when they start to walk, they suddenly no longer want to cuddle and have their grandmother lavish adoration on them? Obviously, I have forgotten much in the 20-some years since I had my own little ones. And I would think that having your fingers stuck once in the VCR would be enough to learn a lesson, but no, we have to do this several times, always with much tears and accusing looks. I had plans of bringing all the Christmas stuff downstairs this weekend, wondering how I'm going to put up a 6' tree high enough with 8' ceilings so that little hands don't get into it.

It has also been brought to my attention, rightfully so, that while everyone knows by now I'm a military mom, very few know I'm a Lumberjack mom. My daughter is about to complete her life as a college student and graduate from Northern Arizona University. She is going to be a teacher, a path I once started on, but left right at the finish line. A good teacher can make a difference for a lifetime, and I am very confidant she'll be one of the great ones. Hey! Where's my sweatshirt??

Shotgun season began this morning. Well, actually it began last night with the traditional male bonding ritual at The Well. Mandatory sobriety DOES have it perks! After hearing Old Sarge tell me for the fourth time in five minutes, "...and honey, I don't even know where they came from, 'cuz I was trying to leave and your brother LEFT me there, and then there was THREE beers sitting in front of me..." and all the while I am thinking how great I am going to feel in the morning.
So, hunting apparel having already been washed in unscented, non-color enhancing detergent, Sarge has his shower first with his human-scent masking body wash, so that my Sun Dried Black Raspberry shampoo and shower gel won't stink him up. The layers start piling on: turtleneck, flannel-lined jeans, wool socks. Then the camo gear. Off goes the great hunter, into the woods. Last year for Christmas, the daughter and I bought him a VERY nice tree stand that had a gun rail around it. I thought that was the best feature, because after over 20 years in the military of sleeping anywhere, any time, Sarge is completely capable of falling asleep in his stand. And has. But, he took it back for a different model. If he falls out of the damn tree, God knows I tried!

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Oh it's not that cold

Despite what comments that Contagion and Grau left at
Tammi's yesterday, it is flippin' cold outside. My car thermometer read 13 degrees on the way to work this morning. To paraphrase Larry the Cable Guy, that's cold, I don't care who you are.
Thankfully, Bob had not left the AC on in our office all night, so I had hardly any frost on my monitor. The boys outside weren't having such a great time of it though. The little Carhartt Bundles of Joy were serenading me with the sounds of fitful diesel engines trying to turn over, frantic searches for blow torches and general Very Bad Language. It's hard to tell who is who, they are so...bulky. Hang in there, guys, I'll keep the coffee on all day today.

In my constant quest to quit smoking everyday, I have my own self-imposed No Smoking Zones. Smoking in the house is one of them, so if I absolutely have myself convinced that I can't get in the shower without the nicotine ritual, it's out to the porch for me. As I stood out there around 03:30 this morning in my slippers and The Hideous Plaid Robe, I was pretty confidant that all burning of the tobacco is going to have to cease, and soon.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

F*n Snow!

I can tell we're definitely getting to the end of the season here at Bedrock. Nasty little snowflakes are flying willy nilly through the air outside and are taking up residence in the stone piles. These aren't Burl & Ives flakes, folks, these critters are more like ice crystals and with the winds we are having, tend to sting a bit. Not much for truck traffic either. At one point this morning, three loaders and two semis were justing sitting in the exit drive, and Bob and I had our binoculars, all looking at all the deer in the field next to us. The CB was awash in, "Man, if I only had my bow!". Hey...fantasy deer season?? Am I on to something here??
So here I sit, listening to the wind have its way with my entryway, finishing up making one crocheted scarf and starting on another. Scarves, anyone? It's impossible to crochet and smoke at the same time, y'all would be doing me a favor.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

This was in my personal email today, and I wanted to share it. This is one of "my" soldiers, and as with all of them, please keep him close to your heart as he gets "short".

A Favor To Ask

Hello everyone and Good Morning. Well the end is drawing near.
An 18 month deployment which began back in July 2004 with an after-
noon phone call, will soon be all a memory...some good and some bad.
We've seen lives taken and we've seen destruction, but we've also
seen the many changes that have occurred since are arrival and the
many more that continue to occur in improving the way of life for this
country. There are some that agree with us being here and there are
some that disagree. As for those of us here, it's not whether or not
we agree or disagree, the fact is, we all VOLUNTEERED. There are many
who stand and protest the war when yet on those very same days, there
are many standing and raising their right hand and re-enlisting, some
while manning a checkpoint where they know they stand in harms way
because of the threat of a suicide bomber or a vehicle car bomb.

We don't ask that you favor the decision of going to war, but what we do
ask for is one simple favor...pray for us as you do your own so that we
may come home and be able to be with our loved ones, once again.

With that being said, Ramadan has passed as well as the signing of the
constitution, but we have one more mile stone to assist with...The Pres-
idential election in December. This will be our toughest month, yet.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years, the holidays that most look
forward to. Here in Iraq, the only thing to look forward to is the day
they say "It's time to board the plane and go home". For during the
holiday season, it will be business as usual. We will patrol our sectors,
look for the individuals who are planting roadside bombs, and do every-
thing we can to make it home safely.

So I ask of you on behalf of all the men and women over here, when you are
sitting at the table enjoying your meal, opening presents, and celebrating
a New Year, pause for a moment and say a prayer for all of us for our time
to depart is soon near.

May God Bless you all for all that you continue to do in support of all the

I know this has been around for awhile, but I think it's worth a return visit:
We Support You

I have a tendency to still be caught up in events even when the actual date has passed by. My birthday, for example, usually requires the entire month of October to be celebrated properly. We all know, ahem, how well THAT worked out this year.

But that aside, I have Veterans Day very much on mind, and the “funk” which seems to be permeating the blogosphere has touched me too. I had made a promise to visit some old friends; it took me until yesterday to keep my promise. So on a dark and stormy afternoon, I indulged in my ever growing fascination with eternal resting places and stopped by to see how the boys were doing.

Image hosted by

Sunlight is a fleeting friend here in November. The last several days have visited some intense wind and rain on us, stripping the trees of the last vestige of autumn glory that is always gone too soon. The oak leaves were thick on the ground, and I couldn't find several markers that have long since "gone to ground". Deep grey clouds were giving way to a gloomy twilight, and I could do little but a minimal cleanup before it was completely dark. Another day, maybe this weekend.

Depressed? No. Not really. Via Army Wife, I read this post from Some Soldier's Mom. She gets it, and I know she'll never forget. The duty and obligation you feel, even if the last act the living can do for the dead is for those you have never known. But regardless, you know they are there, you know what they sacrificed, and you can never forget.

November does that for me; its dark and stark beauty lends itself to a look inside, an accounting. Taking time to take stock, and see what is still lacking. I don't dread these dreary days anymore, just embrace them for the wonderful opportunity that they are to get squared away before the cycle starts again.

Monday, November 14, 2005

I haven't had alot of time to do a decent post- there's something I promised I would do and still haven't gotten to it- but here's some food for thought until I get my stuff done:

Image hosted by

Went to a Homecoming party for the 1644th Transportation Company Saturday night in Thompson. L-R: SPC Sarah, SGT Ann, my friend Dianna and me. Welcome Home!
These gals drove convoys through Iraq for a year. IMHO, they have bigger balls than quite a few men I know.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Veterans Day

"on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month..."

Over the years, I have heard that line used so many times in so many speeches. So many school programs, parades, services, I can't begin to count. This year I am doing something that I haven't done for a long time for Veterans Day. I'm working. That's right, no getting in uniform, no speaking engagements. And as long as the people who rightly deserve to have a day off are working- that would be VETERANS- I'm going to work too. And thank every man that I work with who has served his country. For the people who ARE taking a day off from banking, mail delivery, any government function- please think about it. Unless you were willing to put it on the line like so many men and women have, shouldn't YOU be working and THEM have the day off, so we can give them the respect and thanks that they have earned?
So...let the thank you's begin.

To Johann Christoph Lyerle. His family (my family) came here in the 1600's to avoid religious persecution. His father disowned him for fighting for the Continental Army in the Revolutionary War. Thank you for allowing me such deep roots.

To my uncles, Karl, Kendall, Keith & Jack. Thanks for giving me the understanding of a time when military service was the norm, not the exception.

To my dad. I will always remember your stories of Korea- when you told me your job was to hit the bombs you were loading with a hammer to make sure they were good, of riding up to the Chosin Reservoir to see what the fuss was about and finding out the hard way, and of the South African pilot, who was coming back to base so badly shot up that he crashed his plane in the side of a mountain, rather than risk harming anyone on the ground. You humble me with your decency, and I have been so blessed to have you for my dad.

To my husband. You've taught me that there is so much more to military service than what you see in a movie. That the guys and gals who show up to work everyday, whether at a desk job, a machine shop, or whatever are so important. You spent over 20 years making sure stuff worked when it needed to.

To my boys. Rob, you took the hardest path you could choose. You wanted to be the best, and the Marine Corps gave you that opportunity. Joe, if I had a dollar for every time you said, "I ain't joining the f*#@in' Army!" And Dan, wow, never in a million years would I have thought that you would not only join the Army, but even consider making it a career. Not my wild man! And Alex, I confess. I didn't think you'd make through basic. You've surprised us all at what you've achieved. All three of you Army boys signed up after 9-11. You knew what was coming. You've all been to the Sandbox. All four of you have made your dad & I so proud.

Thank you, veterans, for everything!

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Got Deer?

I should be ashamed of myself for taunting
Army Wife, but since she posted a recipe for venison and berry sauce, I can't help myself.

Image hosted by

For those interested, my "little" brother got this yesterday with a bow. It's an 8 point buck, 21" rack inside, right through the neck.

Happy Birthday Marines!

I almost forgot that today is the 230th birthday of the United States Marine Corps. So to my Marine family and friends- make Chesty proud today!
1SGT Michael Fay
CPL Robert Preston
CPT Karl Myers
And MSGT Mark Winget, most of all. Five years ago, Sarge and I were having a hell of day, celebrating the 225th birthday, and remembering his daughter, Major Sandra Jellison, who had passed away a year before. I would give anything to do that again, but time takes it toll on us all. Unfortunately, I don't think Sarge would know me if I were to show up on his back porch with a case of Busch Light. I miss his stinkin' cigars, and I miss my friend. God bless the Chosin Few, and MSGT Winget.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

Late to the Party

This wasn't the post I had planned for this morning, but an email I received has kicked me in the butt to do the right thing. See, I'm a sucker for a cause, especially one for or sponsored by our military. When
SGT Hook was in Afghanistan, he sent the call out for Operation Shoefly. We sent over 800 pairs of shoes there, even after his unit left. Then SGT Zepeda started Sole4Souls, and again, a couple hundred pairs of shoes went to Iraq.

Image hosted by

I hope to get more to him before the cut off date for mailing- because he's coming home soon!

And my point is? I've enjoyed helping soldiers make life a little better for the kids of Afghanistan and Iraq, and now these same soldiers need our help.
To know everything you need to know about Project ValourIT go here:

Did I donate? Damn straight, Skippy. And with three sons active duty Army and Old Sarge retired from the Air Force, OF COURSE I donated to the Marines!!!

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

I Apologize

I owe T1G a huge apology. My lost post was really due to my unfamiliarly with Blogspot, plus he's just such a sweetheart, he's helping me with links and whatnot. This may look like a blog yet.

Though Halloween has passed, I find I still have a fascination with graveyards. There is one near my house that was horribly vandalized this summer. I think I'll take a walk and see how the repairs are coming. The walk itself is enough to scare the bejebus out of you if it starts getting dark. A friend of mine was hit by a car right in front of it when we were in junior high. The place is set off the road a little ways and it's heavily wooded back there. Hilly, too:
Riverview Cemetery

I can remember a whole lot of years ago, Dad had to replace some of the retaining walls in the old, old section. The erosion had gotten so bad, he accidently hit a very small coffin with the backhoe. Must have been that of a baby or small child. This cemetery was started when people first began settling here, at least the early 1800's. Guess it's high time I stopped by and said "Hey" to Grandma Gail anyway.

Not a good beginning

Already lost my first post of any length. GRRR

I blame T1G.

Friday, November 04, 2005

The Move.....

I've been persuaded that I may have outgrown LiveJournal. Not sure about that, but pardon the dust and watch for debris as this new site takes shape. Got some figurin' out to do yet, so in the meantime, I will still be posting at