Chatta Mom

May 31, 2008

Carl's Garden

Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake.

Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.

Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII.

Watching him, we worried that although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.

When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.

He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened.

He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?"

The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile.

As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet and then fled.

Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him.

Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it.

"Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.

Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head. "Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday."

His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.

Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"

"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply.

Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.

A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose.

This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water.

When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing cat calls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.

Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering.

The summer was quickly fading into fall Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches.

As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.

"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time."

The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.

"What's this?" Carl asked. "It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet."

"I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"

The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease.

"I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you we picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate."

He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back."

He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist.

Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.

He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather.

In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.

The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life.

In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."

The following spring another flyer went up. It read: "Person needed to care for Carl's garden."

The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door.

Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.

The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around.

As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."

The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done.

During that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.

One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."

"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?"

"Carl," he replied.

That's the whole gospel message simply stated.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Sorry if this is a repeat. Thanks to Marie.

Posted by Omie at 11:54 AM | Comments (0)

May 28, 2008

It Happened

They walked in tandem, each of the ninety-two students filing into the already crowded auditorium.

With their rich maroon gowns flowing. and the traditional caps, they looked almost ... as grown up as they felt.

Dads swallowed hard behind broad smiles, and Moms freely brushed away tears.

This class would NOT pray during the commencements----not by choice, but
because of a recent court ruling prohibiting it.

The principal and several students were careful to stay within the guidelines allowed by the ruling. They gave inspirational and challenging speeches, but no one mentioned divine guidance and no one asked for blessings on the graduates or their families.

The speeches were nice, but they were routine.....until the final speech received a standing ovation.

A solitary student walked proudly to the microphone. He stood still and silent for just a moment, and then, it happened.

It Happened.

All 92 students, every single one of them, suddenly SNEEZED!!!!

The student on stage.. simply looked at the audience and said, 'GOD BLESS > YOU , each and every one of you!' And he walked off stage...

The audience exploded into applause. This graduating class had found a unique way to invoke God's blessing on their future with or without the court's approval.

....and GOD BLESS YOU!!!! This is a true story; it happened at the University of
Maryland.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to neighbor, Ed.

Posted by Omie at 12:38 PM | Comments (0)

May 25, 2008

He is There

You wonder why he pulled you over and gave you a ticket for speeding.
He just worked an accident where people died because they were going too fast.

You wonder why that cop was so mean.
He just got done working a case where a drunk driver killed a kid.

You work for 8 hours.
He works for up to 18 hours.

You drink hot coffee to stay awake.
The cold rain in the middle of the night keeps him awake.

You complain of a 'headache', and call in sick.
He goes into work still hurt and sore from the guy he had to fight the night before.

You drink your coffee on your way to the mall.
He spills his as he runs code to a traffic crash with kids trapped inside.

You make sure you're cell phone is in your pocket before you leave the house.
He makes sure his gun is clean and fully loaded and his vest is tight.

You talk trash about your 'buddies' that aren't with you.
He watches his buddy get shot at, and wounded in front of him.

You walk down the beach, staring at all the pretty girls.
He walks down the highway looking for body parts from a traffic crash.

You complain about how hot it is.
He wears fifty pounds of gear and a bullet proof vest in July and still runs around chasing crack heads.

You go out to lunch, and complain because the restaurant got your order wrong.
He runs out before he gets his food to respond to an armed robbery.

You get out of bed in the morning and take your time getting ready.
He gets called out of bed at 2 am after working 12 hours and has to be into work A.S.A.P. for a homicide.

You go to the mall and get your hair done.
He holds the hair of some college girl while she's puking in the back of his patrol car.

You're angry because your class ran five minutes over.
His shift ended 4 hours ago and there's no end in sight.

You call your girlfriend and set a date for tonight.
He can't make any plans because on his off days; he still gets called back into work.

You yell and scream at the squad car that just passed you because they slowed you down.
He's in the driver seat of the squad car, going to cut somebody out of their car.

You roll your eyes when a baby cries in public.
He picks up a dead child in his arms and prays that it was crying.

You criticize your police dept. and say they're never there quick enough.
He blasts the siren while the person in front of him refuses to move while talking on their cell phone.

You hear the jokes about fallen officers and say they should have known better.
He is a hero and runs into situations when everyone else is running away in order to make sure no gets hurt and loses his life doing it.

You are asked to go to the store by your parents. You don't.
He would take a bullet for his buddy without question.

You sit there and judge him, saying that it's a waste of money to have them around, yet as soon as you need help, he is there.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to those in law enforcement for serving and protecting. Also thanks to Carole for this email.

Posted by Omie at 05:38 PM | Comments (0)

May 23, 2008

Because God Sees

It started to happen gradually. One day I was walking my son Jake to school. I was holding his hand and we were about to cross the street when the crossing guard said to him, "Who is that with you, young fella?"

"Nobody," he shrugged.

"Nobody?"

The crossing guard and I laughed. My son is only 5, but as we crossed the street I thought, "Oh my goodness, nobody?"

I would walk into a room and no one would notice. I would say something to my family - like "Turn the TV down, please" - and nothing would happen. Nobody would get up, or even make a move for the remote.

I would stand there for a minute, and then I would say again, a little louder, "Would someone turn the TV down?"

Nothing.

Just the other night my husband and I were out at a party. We'd been there for about three hours and I was ready to leave. I noticed he was talking to a friend from work. So I walked over, and when there was a break in the conversation, I whispered, "I'm ready to go when you are." He just kept right on talking.

I'm invisible.

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being: I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's goinģ she's goinģ she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in.

I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well.

It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a banana clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read, no, devour the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.

2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it."

And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.

No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.

The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at four in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table."

That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Carole.

Posted by Omie at 01:10 PM | Comments (0)

May 20, 2008

Cherokee Indian Legend

Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youth's rite of passage?

His father takes him into the forest, blindfolds him and leaves him alone.

He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not remove the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it.

He cannot cry out for help to anyone.

Once he survives the night, he is a MAN.

He cannot tell the other boys of this experience because each lad must come into manhood on his own.

The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him. Maybe even some human might do him harm.

The wind blew the grass and earth, and shook his stump, but he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold.

It would be the only way he could become a man!

Finally, after a horrific night, the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold.

It was then that he discovered his father sitting on the stump next to him.

He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm.

We, too, are never alone.

Even when we don't know it, our Heavenly Father is watching over us, sitting on the stump beside us.

When trouble comes, all we have to do is reach out to Him.

If you liked this story, pass it on.

If not, perhaps you took off your blindfold before dawn.

Moral of the Story: Just because you can't see God, doesn't mean He is not there.

'For we walk by faith, not by sight.'

~ 2 Corinthians 5:7 ~
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to "bestest" friend, Gladys.

Posted by Omie at 12:55 PM | Comments (0)

May 12, 2008

In Memoriam

Brisbane, - In Loving Memory 1991 - 2008
"You could talk to him as well as you could to many human beings, and much better than you could to some. He would sit down and look you straight in the eye, a long, mesmerizing gaze, and when he understood what you were saying he would turn his head sideways, back and forth, oscillating his whole body like the pendulum on a clock." quote from "My Dog Skip," by Willie Morris.

The Power of the Dog
There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie--
Perfect passsion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find--it's your own affair--
But ... you've given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone--wherever it goes--for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long--
So why in--Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear? Rudyard Kipling

Dear Faithful Companion, You will be missed. Love from your "Omie."

For a more extensive eulogy, here is my SIL's tribute to their great dog. http://otimisin.blogspot.com/ - May 7th post/entry.
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<3 GrandMom Love - Thanks to my son-in-law, who is a great dad to Brisbaine, Ballou and of course, my grandbaby, Max.

Posted by Omie at 11:48 AM | Comments (0)

May 11, 2008

Happy Mother's Day Story

Happy Mother's Day to each of you . . . even if you're not a mother, I'm very certain that you have helped mother someone's child. Have a great day, a good laugh and be blessed.
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Chapstick

We had this great 10-year-old cat named Jack who just recently died.

Jack was a great cat, and the kids would carry him around and sit on him and nothing ever bothered him. He used to hang out and nap all day long on the mat in our bathroom.

We have three kids, and at the time of this story, they were four years old, three years old, and one year old.

The middle one is Eli. Eli really loved Chapstick. LOVED it. He kept asking to use my Chapstick and then would lose it. Finally one day I showed him where in the bathroom I keep my Chapstick and explained he could use it whenever he wanted to, but he needed to put it right back in the drawer after he finished.

That year on Mother's Day, we were having the typical rush around and try to get ready for church with everyone crying and carrying on. My two boys were fighting over the toy in the cereal box. I was trying to nurse my little one at the same time I was putting on my make-up. Everything was a mess, and everyone had long forgotten that this was a wonderful day to honor me and the amazing job that is motherhood.

We finally had the older one and the baby loaded in the car and I was looking for Eli. I searched everywhere and I finally went into the bathroom. There was Eli. He was applying my Chapstick very carefully to Jack's ... rear end.

Eli looked right into my eyes and said, "Chapped." Now if you have a cat, you know that he is right -- their little bottoms do look pretty chapped. And, frankly, Jack didn't seem to mind. The only question to ask at that point was whether it was the FIRST time Eli had done that to the cat's behind or the hundredth!?!

And THAT is my favorite Mother's Day moment ever because it reminds us that no matter how hard we try to civilize these glorious little creatures, there will always be that day when you realize they've been using your Chapstick on the cat's butt.
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<3 GrandMom LOVE ~ Thank to Marie for this email story.

Posted by Omie at 10:01 AM | Comments (0)

May 08, 2008

Grandmothers

Grandbaby Max with his make-do "hiking stick" at Omie's house.

Grandmas are moms with lots of frosting. ~Author Unknown

What a bargain grandchildren are! I give them my loose change, and they give me a million dollars worth of pleasure. ~Gene Perret

Grandmothers are just 'antique' little girls. ~Author Unknown

Perfect love sometimes does not come until the first grandchild. ~Welsh Proverb

A grandmother is a babysitter who watches the kids instead of the television.
~Author Unknown

Never have children, only grandchildren. ~Gore Vidal

Becoming a grandmother is wonderful. One moment you're just a mother. The next you are all-wise and prehistoric. ~Pam Brown

Grandchildren don't stay young forever, which is good because Grandpas have only so many horsey rides in them. ~Gene Perret

Grandma always made you feel like she had been waiting to see just you all day, and now the day was complete. ~Marcy DeMaree

Grandmas hold our tiny hands for just a little while, but our hearts forever. ~Author Unknown

If I had known how wonderful it would be to have grandchildren, I'd have had them first. ~Lois Wyse

My grand kids believe I'm the oldest thing in the world. And after two or three hours with them, I believe it, too. ~Gene Perret

If becoming a grandmother was only a matter of choice, I should advise every one of you straight away to become one. There is no fun for old people like it!
~Hannah Whithall Smith

It's such a grand thing to be a mother of a mother. That's why the world calls her grandmother. ~Author Unknown

Grandchildren are God's way of compensating us for growing old. ~Mary H. Waldrip. AMEN to that!

You do not really understand something unless you can explain it to your grandmother. ~Proverb

An hour with your grandchildren can make you feel young again. Anything longer than that, and you start to age quickly. ~Gene Perret

The best baby-sitters, of course, are the baby's grandparents. You feel completely comfortable entrusting your baby to them for long periods, which is why most grandparents flee to Florida. ~Dave Barry

I wish I had the energy that my grandchildren have - if only for self-defense.
~Gene Perret

Grandmother-grandchild relationships are simple: Grandmas are short on criticism and long on love. ~Author Unknown

Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children. ~Alex Haley

Grandmother: A wonderful mother with lots of practice. ~Author Unknown

A grandparent is old on the outside but young on the inside. ~Author Unknown

One of the most powerful handclasps is that of a new grandbaby around the finger of a grandfather. ~Joy Hargrove

It's amazing how grandparents seem so young once you become one.
~Author Unknown

If your baby is 'beautiful and perfect, never cries or fusses, sleeps on schedule and burps on demand, an angel all the time,' then you're the grandma.
~Teresa Bloomingdale

Grandparents are similar to a piece of string: handy to have around and easily wrapped around the fingers of their grandchildren. ~Author Unknown

What is it about grandparents that is so lovely? I'd like to say that grandparents are God's gifts to children, and if they can but see, hear and feel what these people have to give, they can mature at a faster rate. ~Bill Cosby

Grandchildren don't make a man feel old; it's the knowledge that he's married to a grandmother. ~G. Norman Collie

Seeing the grandchildren is always a big treat, but the sweetest words ever heard are 'bye bye grandma!'
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<3 GrandMom "OMIE" Love ~ Thanks to "grandmom Gladys."

Posted by Omie at 01:31 PM | Comments (0)

May 05, 2008

Beautiful Minds

Stephen Wiltshire the Human Camera

Have never seen anything like this before?

This is very interesting. This guy is amazing.

Copy and paste: http://video.stumbleupon.com/#p=0k4lsi1dql
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to junior high friend, Judy V.

Posted by Omie at 03:00 PM | Comments (0)

April 23, 2008

The Brick

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something.

As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door. He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.

The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, 'What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?'

The young boy was apologetic.

'Please, mister...please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do,' He pleaded. 'I threw the brick because no one else would stop...'

With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. 'It's my brother, 'he said 'He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up.'

Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, 'Would you please help
me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me.'

Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts.

A quick look told him everything was going to be okay. 'Thank you and may God bless you,' the grateful child told the stranger.

Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home.

It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message: 'Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!'

God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts. Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not.

God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Carole

Posted by Omie at 12:42 PM | Comments (0)

April 08, 2008

Unusual Speeding Ticket

Two California Highway Patrol Officers were conducting speeding enforcement on I-15, just north of the Marine Corps Air Station at Miramar. One of the officers was using a hand held radar device to check speeding vehicles approaching the crest of a hill.

The officers were suddenly surprised when the radar gun began reading 300 miles per hour.

The officer attempted to reset the radar gun, but it would not reset and then turned off.

Just then a deafening roar over the treetops revealed that the radar had in fact locked on to a USMC F/A-18 Hornet which was engaged in a low flying exercise near the location.

Back at the CHP Headquarters the Patrol Captain fired off a complaint to the
USMC Base Commander

The reply came back in true USMC style:

Thank you for your letter. We can now complete the file on this incident.

You may be interested to know that the tactical computer in the Hornet had detected the presence of, and subsequently locked on to, your hostile radar equipment and automatically sent a jamming signal back to it, which is why it shut down.

Furthermore, an Air-to-Ground missile aboard the fully armed aircraft had also automatically locked on to your equipment location.

Fortunately, the Marine Pilot flying the Hornet recognized the situation for what it was, quickly responded to the missile system alert status and was able to override the automated defense system before the missile was launched to destroy the hostile radar position.

The pilot also suggests you cover your mouths when cussing at them, since the video systems on these jets are very high tech.

Sergeant Johnson, the officer holding the radar gun, should get his dentist to check his left rear molar. It appears the filling is loose. Also, the snap is broken on his holster.

Thank you for your concern. Semper Fi.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Marie

Posted by Omie at 12:41 PM | Comments (0)

April 07, 2008

Four Friends

Once upon a time there was this girl who had four boyfriends.

She loved the 4th boyfriend the most and adored him with rich robes and treated him to the finest of delicacies. She gave him nothing but the best.

She also loved the 3rd boyfriend very much and was always showing him off to neighboring kingdoms. However, she feared that one day he would leave her for another.

She also loved her 2nd boyfriend. He was her confidant and was always kind, considerate and patient with her. Whenever this girl faced a problem, she could confide in him, and he would help her get through the difficult times.

The girls 1st boyfriend was a very loyal partner and had made great contributions in maintaining her wealth and kingdom. However, she did not love the first boyfriend. Although he loved her deeply, she hardly took notice of him.

One day, the girl fell ill and she knew her time was short. She thought of her luxurious life and wondered, I now have four boyfriends with me, but when I die, I'll be all alone.'

Thus, she asked the 4th boyfriend, I loved you the most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?' 'No way!', replied the 4th boyfriend, and he walked away without another word.

His answer cut like a sharp knife right into her heart. The sad girl then asked the 3rd boyfriend, 'I loved you all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?' 'No!', replied the 3rd boyfriend. 'Life is too good! When you die, I'm going to marry someone else!' Her heart sank and turned cold.

She then asked the 2nd boyfriend, 'I have always turned to you for help and you've always been there for me. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?'

'I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!', replied the 2nd boyfriend. 'At
the very most, I can only walk with you to your grave.'

His answer struck her like a bolt of lightning, and the girl was devastated.

Then a voice called out: 'I'll go with you. I'll follow you no matter where you go.'

The girl looked up, and there was her first boyfriend. He was very skinny as he
suffered from malnutrition and neglect. Greatly grieved, the girl said, "I
should have taken much better care of you when I had the chance!'

In truth, you have 4 boyfriends in your lives: Your 4th boyfriend is your body. No matter how much time and effort you lavish in making it look good, it
will leave you when you die.

Your 3rd boyfriend is your possessions, status and wealth. When you die, it will all go to others.

Your 2nd boyfriend is your family and friends. No matter how much they have been there for you, the furthest they can stay by you is up to the grave.

And your 1st boyfriend is your Soul. Often neglected in pursuit of wealth, power and pleasures of the world. However, your Soul is the only thing that will follow you where ever you go. Cultivate, strengthen and cherish it now, for it is the only part of you that will follow you to the throne of God and continue with you
throughout Eternity.

Thought for the day: Remember, when the world pushes you to your knees, you're in the perfect position to pray.

Being happy doesn't mean everything's perfect. It means you've decided to see beyond the imperfections.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to internet friend, Debbie.

Posted by Omie at 12:54 AM | Comments (0)

April 01, 2008

Thief at the Car Wash

Bill owns a company that manufactures and installs car wash systems. Bill's company installed a car wash system in Frederick, Md.

Now, understand that these are complete systems, including the money changer and money taking machines.

The problem started when the new owner complained to Bill that he was losing significant amounts of money from his coin machines each week.

He went as far as to accuse Bill's employees of having a key to the boxes and ripping him off. Bill just couldn't believe that his people would do that, so they setup a camera to catch the thief in action. Well, they did catch him on film!

That's a bird sitting on the change slot of the machine.

The bird had to go down into the machine, and back up inside to get to the money!

That's three quarters he has in his beak!
Another amazing thing is that it was not just one bird -- there were several working together. Once they identified the thieves, they found over $4000 in quarters on the roof of the car wash and more under a nearby tree.

And you thought you heard of everything by now!! !!

And to think the phrase 'bird brain' is associated with being dumb. Not these birds. Share the story!!
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Marie for this great email.

Posted by Omie at 01:38 PM | Comments (0)

March 27, 2008

Nothing but the Truth

David Casstevens of the Dallas Morning News tells a story about Frank Szymanski, a Notre Dame center in the 1940s, who had been called as a witness in a civil suit at South Bend.

"Are you on the Notre Dame football team this year?"the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"What position?"

"Center, Your Honor."

"How good a center?"

Szymanski squirmed in his seat, but said firmly: "Sir, I'm the best center Notre Dame has ever had."

Coach Frank Leahy, who was in the courtroom, was surprised. Szymanski always had been modest and unassuming.

So when the proceedings were over, he took Szymanski aside and asked why he had made such a statement.

Szymanski blushed. "I hated to do it, Coach," he said. "But, after all, I was under oath."

By David Casstevens from Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul
Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen & Patty Hansen
****************************
RUMINATIONS
*I am the most anti-social person I know. But of course, I don't know anyone because I'm so anti-social." - Derek Neitzel

*Maybe tomorrow is actually the last day of the first part of my life. -
Michael McCuiston

*Graduation is a funny thing. It probably helps that I went to clown college, though. - Justin E. Kerner

*I bet that guy who learned everything he needed to know in kindergarten
feels pretty dumb paying his student loan every month." - Pat Perez

*I wonder if NASA thought the moon might be made of cheese before they sent up the Apollo 11 crew. Because if it was, it would have been really bad if the astronauts were lactose intolerant." - Paul Paternoster

*If you stacked all the US currency together, you could probably reach the moon, but I bet the Apollo program was still more economical."
- Larry Baum

*The first thing I do after opening a bar of Ivory soap is to scrape off the .0056 part that's impure. I mean, who wants to wash themselves with that stuff? - Paul Paternoster

*Scientists say there are over 3,000 spiders for every human being on
earth. Does anybody want mine? I certainly don't." - Chuck Bonner

*I read once that Shakespeare had a vocabulary of 17,000 words. That's
pretty impressive, but I bet he used some of them twice." - Jeff Alexander

KEEP SMILING:( at my age?)
A father said to his son, "When Abe Lincoln was your age, he was studying books by the light of the fireplace."

The son replied, "When Lincoln was your age, he was President."
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Andy

Posted by Omie at 02:57 PM | Comments (0)

March 25, 2008

Kid's Science Exam

If you need a good laugh, try reading through these children's science exam answers.......

Q: Name the four seasons
A: Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar.

Q: How is dew formed?
A: The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire.

Q: How can you delay milk turning sour? (Brilliant, you'll love this!)
A: Keep it in the cow.

Q: What causes the tides in the oceans?
A: The tides are a fight between the Earth and the Moon. All water tends to flow towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon, and nature hates a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins in this fight.

Q: What are steroids?
A: Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs.

Q: What happens to your body as you age?
A: When you get old, so do your bowels and you get intercontinental.

Q: What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty?
A: He says good-bye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery.

Q: Name a major disease associated with cigarettes.
A: Premature death.

Q: How are the m ain parts of the body categorized? ( e.g., abdomen)
A: The body is consisted into three parts -- the brainium, the borax and the abdominal cavity. The brainium contains the brain; the borax contains the heart and lungs, and the abdominal cavity contains the five bowels A, E, I, O, and U.

Q: What is the fibula?
A: A small lie.

Q: What does "varicose" mean?
A: Nearby.

Q: Give the meaning of the term "Caesarian Section."
A: The Caesarian Section is a district in Rome

Q: What does the word "benign" mean?' ......... I love it!!!
A: Benign is what you will be after you be eight.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Marie.

Posted by Omie at 11:45 PM | Comments (0)

March 24, 2008

Cell Phone verses the Bible

I wonder what would happen if we treated our Bibles like we treat our cell phone?

What if we carried it around in our purses or pockets?

What if we flipped through it several times a day?

What if we turned back to go get it if we forgot it?

What if we used it to receive messages from the text?

What if we treated it like we couldn't live without it?

What if we gave it to kids as gifts?

What if we used it when we traveled?

What if we used it in case of emergency

This is something to make you go....hmm...where is my Bible?

Oh, and one more thing. Unlike our cell phone, we don't have to worry about our Bible being disconnected because Jesus already paid the bill.

Makes you stop and think, "Where are my priorities?"

And no dropped calls!*****************************************************************
<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Carole

Posted by Omie at 04:34 PM | Comments (0)

March 22, 2008

Still HE Walked

For God loved you so much, that He walked!

He could hear the crowds screaming "crucify" "crucify"...
He could hear the hatred in their voices,
These were his chosen people.
He loved them,
And they were going to crucify him.
He was beaten, bleeding and weakened...
His heart was broken,
But still He walked.

He could see the crowd as he came from the palace.
He knew each of the faces so well.
He had created them.
He knew every smile, every laugh, and every shed tear,
But now they were contorted with rage and anger
His heart broke,
But still He walked.

Was he scared? You and I would have been
So his humanness would have mandated that he was.
He felt alone.
His disciples had left, denied, and even betrayed him.
He searched the crowd for a loving face and he saw very few.
Then he turned his eyes to the only one that mattered
And he knew that he would never be alone.
He loo ked back at the crowd...
At the people who were spitting at him
Throwing rocks at him and mocking him
And he knew that because of him,
They would never be alone.
So for them, He walked.

The sounds of the hammer striking the spikes echoed through the crowd.
The sounds of his cries echoed even louder,
The cheers of the crowd, as his hands and feet were nailed to the cross,
Intensified with each blow.
Loudest of all was the still small voice
Inside his Heart that whispered "I am with you, my son",
And God's heart broke.
He had let His son walk.

Jesus could have asked God to end his suffering,
But instead he asked God to forgive.
Not to forgive him, but to forgive the ones who were persecuting him.
As he hung on that cross, dying an unimaginable death,
He looked out and saw, not only the faces in the crowd,
But also, the face of every person yet to be,
And his heart filled with love.
As his body was dying, his heart was alive.
Alive with the limitless, unconditional love he feels for each of us.
That is why He walked.

When I forget how much My God loves me,
...I remember his walk.
When I wonder if I can be forgiven,
...I remember his walk.
When I need to be reminded of how to live like Christ,
...I think of his walk.
And to show him how much I love him,
...I wake up each morning, turn my eyes to him,
.......And I walk.

Author Unknown
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ HAPPY EASTER, Folks! And a big Thanks to Marie.

Posted by Omie at 10:48 PM | Comments (0)

March 19, 2008

Eagle Story

When Freedom came in she could not stand. Both wings were broken, her left wing in 4 places. She was emaciated and covered in lice. We made the decision to give her a chance at life, so I took her to the vet's office.

From then on, I was always around her. We had her in a huge dog carrier with the top off, and it was loaded up with shredded newspaper for her to lay in. I used to sit and talk to her, urging her to live, to fight; and she would lay there looking at me with those big brown eyes. We also had to tube feed her for weeks.

This went on for 4-6 weeks, and by then she still couldn't stand. It got to the point where the decision was made to euthanize her if she couldn't stand in a week.

You know you don't want to cross that line between torture and rehab, and it looked like death was winning. She was going to be put down that Friday, and I was supposed to come in on that Thursday afternoon. I didn't want to go to the center that Thursday, because I couldn't bear the thought of her being euthanized; but I went anyway, and when I walked in everyone was grinning from ear to ear. I went immediately back to her dowl cage; and there she was, standing on her own, a big beautiful eagle.

She was ready to live. I was just about in tears by then. That was a very good day.

We knew she could never fly, so the director asked me to glove train her. I got her used to the glove, and then to jesses, and we started doing education programs for schools in western Washington . We wound up in the newspapers, radio (believe it or not) and some TV. Miracle Pets even did a show about us.

In the spring of 2000, I was diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma. I had stage 3, which is not good (one major organ plus everywhere), so I wound up doing 8 months of chemo. Lost the hair - the whole bit. I missed a lot of work.

When I felt good enough, I would go to Sarvey and take Freedom out for walks. Freedom would also come to me in my dreams and help me fight the cancer. This happened time and time again.

Fast forward to November 2000, the day after Thanksgiving, I went in for my last checkup. I was told that if the cancer was not all gone after 8 rounds of chemo, then my last option was a stem cell transplant. Anyway, they did the tests; and I had to come back Monday for the results. I went in Monday, and I was told that all the cancer was gone. Yahoo!

So the first thing I did was get up to Sarvey and take the big girl out for a walk.

It was misty and cold. I went to her flight and jessed her up, and we went out front to the top of the hill. I hadn't said a word to Freedom, but somehow she knew. She looked at me and wrapped both her wings around me to where I could feel them pressing in on my back (I was engulfed in eagle wings), and she touched my nose with her beak and stared into my eyes, and we just stood there like that for I don't know how long. That was a magic moment. We have been soul mates ever since she came in. This is a very special bird.

On a side note: I have had people who were sick come up to us when we are out, and Freedom has some kind of hold on them. I once had a guy who was terminal come up to us and I let him hold her. His knees just about buckled and he swore he could feel her power coarse through his body. I have so many stories like that.

I never forget the honor I have of being so close to such a magnificent spirit as Freedom's.

Freedom and I have been together 10 years this summer. She came in as a baby in 1998 with two broken wings. Her left wing doesn't open all the way even after surgery, it was broken in 4 places. She's my baby. Hope you enjoy this. Jeff
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to big sister, Pat.

Posted by Omie at 01:27 PM | Comments (1)

March 17, 2008

Our Lives with Horses...

Our lives with horses are rich with feeling.

If you've ever...
Choked back tears watching a new foal wobble to his feet for the first time...

Or watching your good horse wobble to his feet after surgery...

Or seen the ends of the reins float straight out as a reining horse spins beneath them...

Or chuckled to yourself as you watched a tiny tot on a patient pony trot through a barrel pattern at a saddle club play day...

Or felt the building tremble as an eight-up hitch of feather-legged giants pulled a hand-carved beer wagon into the arena...

Or had your heart stop when you saw your horse lying motionless in the pasture on a sunny day -- and waited breathlessly to see an ear flicker...

Or cheered at the screen when The Man From Snowy River slid Dunnie down the mountainside, or when Seabiscuit made his final surge to beat War Admiral...

Or cruised along the highway and seen a horse in the pasture and wondered what he's like to ride...or pictured him as a prospect...

Or sucked in your breath as a horse and rider approached a six-foot wall...

Or sworn a solemn oath to your horse that together you would triumph...

Or flipped through the TV channels and stopped when you saw a horse...even when it was a commercial.. .

Or laughed aloud when you rubbed your horse's face and he rubbed back...

Or gotten chills hearing Dave Johnson's "...and DOWN THE STRETCH THEY COME!"

(Or "Run For The Roses" circa 1980ish?)

Or stood in awe at your horse in morning play as he sprinted around the pasture, then stopped, head erect, and snorted defiance at the rest of the world...

Or been thankful to see wild horses grazing casually at the foot of a hill...

Or felt calmed by the sleekness of a silky hair coat beneath your hand...

Or felt your jaw drop as you watched a Lipizzaner perform a capriole...

Or if you've ever seen someone in the grocery store wearing a certain kind of hat or boots or buckle, or have a certain cut and length to their jeans...and felt some remote kind of connection.. .

Or felt warmed by a soft-nicker greeting you as you entered the barn...many times.

If you've ever been moved by any of these feelings, you know you are a horse person.

Thank goodness we have our love of horses to help us on our journey.

One of Gods greatest gifts to us!!
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to horsey friend, Nancy, for the email story and also horsey friend, Catherine and her gelding Ric, for the picture.

Posted by Omie at 12:31 PM | Comments (0)

March 13, 2008

Lions Do Not Forget

This woman found this lion hurt and about to die. She took him home and took care of him. When the lion was better she called the local zoo. Sometime later when she visited the zoo, this was the reaction she got when the lion saw her. Lion Hugs

copy/paste here should the above link not work. http://www.telestereo.com/Archivos/video.html
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to friend, Kerri.

Posted by Omie at 02:33 PM | Comments (0)

Laos Deo

One detail that is never mentioned is that in Washington, D.C. there can never be a building of greater height than the Washington Monument.

With all the uproar about removing the Ten Commandments, etc., this is worth a moment or two of your time. I was not aware of this amazing historical information.

On the aluminum cap, atop the Washington Monument in Washington, D.C. are displayed two words: Laus Deo.

No one can see these words. In fact, most visitors to the monument are totally unaware they are even there and for that matter, probably couldn't care less.
Once you know Laus Deo's history, you will want to share this with everyone you know.

These words have been there for many years; they are 555 feet, 5.125 inches high, perched atop the monument, facing skyward to the Father of our nation, overlooking the 69 square miles which comprise the District of Columbia, capital of the United States of America.

Laus Deo? Two seemingly insignificant, unnoticed words. Out of sight and, one might think, out of mind, but very meaningfully placed at the highest point over what is the most powerful city in the most successful nation in the world.

So, what do those two words, in Latin, composed of just four syllables and only seven letters, possibly mean? Very simply, they say "Praise be to God."

Though construction of this giant obelisk began in 1848, when James Polk was President of the United States, it was not until 1888 that the monument was inaugurated and opened to the public. It took twenty-five years to finally cap the memorial with a tribute to the Father of our nation, Laus Deo. "Praise be to God!"

From atop this magnificent granite and marble structure, visitors may take in the beautiful panoramic view of the city with its division into four major segments. From that vantage point, one can also easily see the original plan of the designer, Pierre Charles l'Enfant ..a perfect cross imposed upon the landscape, with the White House to the north. The Jefferson Memorial is to the south, the Capitol to the east and the Lincoln Memorial to the west.

A cross you ask? Why a cross? What about separation of church and state? Yes, a cross; separation of church and state was not, is not, in the Constitution. So, read on. How interesting and, no doubt, intended to carry a profound meaning for those who bother to notice.

"Praise be to God." Within the monument itself are 898 steps and 50 landings. As one climbs the steps and pauses at the landings the memorial stones share a message.

On the 12th Landing is a prayer offered by the City of Baltimore; on the 20th is a memorial presented by some Chinese Christians; on the 24th a presentation made by Sunday School children from New York and Philadelphia quoting Proverbs 10:7, Luke 18:16 and Proverbs 22:6. "Praise be to God."

When the cornerstone of the Washington Monument was laid on July 4th, 1848, deposited within it were many items including the Holy Bible presented by the Bible Society. Such was the discipline, the moral direction, and the spiritual mood given by the founder and first President of our unique democracy, "One Nation, Under God."

I am awed by Washington's prayer for America. Have you ever read it? Well, now is your unique opportunity, so read on!

"Almighty God; We make our earnest prayer that Thou wilt keep the United States in Thy holy protection; that Thou wilt incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to government; and entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another and for their fellow citizens of the United States at large. And finally that Thou wilt most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, and pacific temper of mind which were the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without a humble imitation of whose example in these things we can never hope to be a happy nation. Grant our supplication, we beseech Thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Laus Deo!

When one stops to observe the inscriptions found in public places all over our nation's capitol, he or she will easily find the signature of God, as it is unmistakably inscribed everywhere you look.

You may forget the width and height of "Laus Deo," its location, or the architects, but no one who reads this will be able to forget its meaning, or these words: "Unless the Lord builds the house its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, "the watchmen stand guard in vain." (Psalm 127: 1)

It is hoped you will share this with everyone you know as a lesson in history that they probably will never learn in school. *****************************************************************
<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to internet friends, Debbie and her hubby.

Posted by Omie at 02:23 PM | Comments (0)

March 12, 2008

Clever Dutch Shopping Site

Visit this unusual department store and have fun!!

HEMA is a Dutch department store. The first store opened on November 4, 1926, in Amsterdam.

Now there are 150 stores all over the Netherlands. HEMA also has stores in Belgium, Luxembourg, and Germany. In June of this year, HEMA was sold to British investment company, Lion Capital.

Take a look at Hema's product page. You can't order anything; it's in Dutch, but wait a few seconds and watch what happens. This company has a great sense of humor and a great computer programmer.

Click here: Fun Dutch Department Store
Copy/paste this link, should the above link not work.
http://producten.hema.nl/
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<3 GrandMom Love - Thanks to good neighbor, Ed.

Posted by Omie at 03:38 PM | Comments (0)

March 09, 2008

The Trip Home

A pastor had been on a long flight between church conferences. The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: Fasten Your Seat Belts.

Then, after a while, a calm voice said, "We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened."

As the pastor looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive.

Later, the voice on the intercom said, "We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time. The turbulence is still ahead of us."

And then the storm broke . . .
The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightning lit up the darkening skies, and within moments that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean. One moment the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air; the next, it dropped as it were about to crash.

The pastor confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him.

He said, "As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed. Some were praying. The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm."

"Then, I suddenly saw a little girl. Apparently the storm meant nothing to her. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat; she was reading a book and every- thing within her small world was calm and orderly.

"Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she would straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world.

When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm when it lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity, when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid." The minister could hardly believe his eyes.

It was not surprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurrying to disembark, our pastor lingered to speak to the girl whom he had watched for such a long time.

Having commented about the storm and the behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid.

The child replied, "Cause my Daddy's the pilot, and he's taking me home."

There are many kinds of storms that buffet us. Physical, mental, financial, domestic, and many other storms can easily and quickly darken our skies and throw our plane into apparently uncontrollable movement. We have all known such times, and let us be honest and confess, it is much easier to be at rest when our feet are on the ground than when we are being tossed about a darkened sky.

Let us remember: Our Father is the Pilot. He is in control and taking us home. Don't worry!
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Marie

Posted by Omie at 09:27 PM | Comments (2)

March 06, 2008

The Cab Ride

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute," answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like
somebody out of a 1940s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters.

In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing ", I told her. "I just try to treat my passenger s the way I would want my mother treated".

"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

"I do n't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a
girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit sta ring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me.

It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.

They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door.

The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said.

"Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.

Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.

What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?

What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT 'YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, ~BUT ~ THEY WIL L ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM F EEL.

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.

Every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from God.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ This may be a repeat, but it still brings tears to my eyes. Thanks to Marie.

Posted by Omie at 12:16 PM | Comments (0)

February 26, 2008

Best Comeback Line

Best Response of the Year!

If you ever testify in court, you might wish you could have been as sharp as this policeman. He was being cross-examined by a defense attorney during a felony trial. The lawyer was trying to undermine the policeman's credibility...

Q: 'Officer -- did you see my client fleeing the scene?'

A: 'No sir. But I subsequently observed a person matching the description of the offender, running several blocks away.'

Q: 'Officer -- who provided this description?'

A: 'The officer who responded to the scene.'

Q: 'A fellow officer provided the description of this so-called offender. Do you trust your fellow officers?'

A: 'Yes, sir. With my life.'

Q: 'With your life? Let me ask you this then officer. Do you have a room where you change your clothes in preparation for your daily duties?'

A: 'Yes sir, we do!'

Q: 'And do you have a locker in the room?'

A: 'Yes sir, I do.'

Q: 'And do you have a lock on your locker?'

A: 'Yes sir.'

Q: 'Now why is it, officer, if you trust your fellow officers with your life, you find it necessary to lock your locker in a room you share with these same officers?'

A: 'You see, sir -- we share the building with the court complex, and sometimes lawyers have been known to walk through that room.'

The courtroom erupted in laughter, and a prompt recess was called. The officer on the stand has been nominated for this year's 'Best Comeback' line -- and we think he'll win.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to internet friend, Debbie.

Posted by Omie at 10:02 AM | Comments (0)

February 25, 2008

Walking the Dog

A woman was flying from Seattle to San Francisco. Unexpectedly, the plane was diverted to Sacramento along the way. The flight attendant explained that there would be a delay, and if the passengers wanted to get off the aircraft the plane would re-board in 50 minutes.

Everybody got off the plane except one lady who was blind. The man had noticed her as he walked by and could tell the lady was blind because her Seeing Eye dog lay quietly underneath the seats in front of her throughout the entire flight.

He could also tell she had flown this very flight before because the pilot approached her, and calling her by name, said, 'Kathy, we are in Sacramento for almost an hour. Would you like to get off and stretch your legs?' The blind lady replied, 'No thanks, but maybe Buddy would like to stretch his legs.'

Picture this:

All the people in the gate area came to a complete standstill when they looked up and saw the pilot walk off the plane with a Seeing Eye dog! The pilot was even wearing sunglasses. People scattered. They not only tried to change planes, but they were trying to change airlines!

True story... Have a great day and remember...

...THINGS AREN'T ALWAYS AS THEY APPEAR.

A DAY WITHOUT LAUGHTER IS A DAY WASTED!!!
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thank to my friend, Carole.

Posted by Omie at 05:12 PM | Comments (0)

America's Heros

As I came out of the supermarket that sunny day, pushing my cart of groceries towards my car, I saw an old man with the hood of his car up and a lady sitting inside the car, with the door open. The old man was looking at the engine.

I put my groceries away in my car and continued to watch the old gentleman from about twenty-five feet away.

I saw a young man in his early twenties with a grocery bag in his arm, walking towards the old man.

The old gentleman saw him coming too and took a few steps towards him. I saw the old gentleman point to his open hood and say something.

The young man put his grocery bag into what looked like a brand new Cadillac Escalade and then turn back to the old man and I heard him yell at the old gentleman saying, "You shouldn't even be allowed to drive a car at your age." And then with a wave of his hand, he got in his car and peeled rubber out of the parking lot.

I saw the old gentleman pull out his handkerchief and mop his brow as he went back to his car and again looked at the engine. He then went to his wife and spoke with her and appeared to tell her it would be okay.

I had seen enough and I approached the old man. He saw me coming and stood straight and as I got near him I said, "Looks like you're having a problem."

He smiled sheepishly and quietly nodded his head. I looked under the hood myself and knew that whatever the problem was, it was beyond me.

Looking around I saw a gas station up the road and told the old gentleman that I would be right back. I drove to the station and went inside and saw three attendants working on cars. I approached one of them and related the problem the old man had with his car and offered to pay them if they could follow me back down and help him.

The old man had pushed the heavy car under the shade of a tree and appeared to be comforting his wife. When he saw us he straightened up and thanked me for my help.

As the mechanics diagnosed the problem (overheated engine) I spoke with the old gentleman. When I shook hands with him earlier he had noticed my Marine Corps ring and had commented about it telling me that he had been a Marine, too. I nodded and asked the usual question, "What outfit did you serve with?" He mentioned that he served with the first Marine Division at Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal .

He had hit all the big ones and retired from the Corps after the war was over.

As we talked we heard the car engine start up and saw the mechanics lower the hood. They came over to us as the old man reached for his wallet, but was stopped by me and I told him I would just put the bill on my AAA card.

He still reached for the wallet and handed me a card that I assumed had his name and address on it and I stuck it in my pocket. We shook hands all around again and I said my goodbyes to his wife.

I then told the two mechanics that I would follow them back up to the station. Once at the station I told them that they had interrupted their own jobs to come along with me to help the old man so I wanted to pay for the help, but they refused to charge me.

One of them pulled out a card from his pocket looking exactly like the card the old man had given to me. Both of the men told me that they were Marine Corps Reserves.

Once again we shook hands all around and as I was leaving, one of them told me I should look at the card the old man had given to me and I said I would and drove off. For some reason I had gone about two blocks when I pulled over and took the card out of my pocket and looked at it for a long, long, time. The name of the old gentleman was on the card in gold leaf and under his name......... "Congressional Medal of Honor Society."

I sat there motionless looking at the card and reading it over and over.

I looked up from the card and smiled to no one but myself and marveled that on this day four Marines had all come together, because one of us needed help.

He was an old man alright, but it felt good to have stood next to greatness and courage and an honor to have been in his presence.

America is not at war. The U.S. Military is at war. America is at the Mall.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Marie and her hubby.

Posted by Omie at 03:42 PM | Comments (0)

February 22, 2008

Awesome Model Airplane Video

This model B-29 Stratofortress w/X-1 is powered by four chainsaw motors. You can just imagine how much time, effort, skill and money these guys have put into this thing. Airplane Models

copy/paste this should the above link not work....
http://users.skynet.be/fa926657/files/B29.wmv
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to my model airplane hobbyist neighbor, Ed, for this treat.

Posted by Omie at 06:35 PM | Comments (0)

Angel Decoy

I thought it would be nice, to show everyone the angels that watch over our troops.

These are photos of an Air Force C-130 releasing flares to repel heat-seeking Missiles.

The pattern formed by these 'decoys' are how they got their name Angel decoy.

It's absolutely awesome! Maneuvers are usually in remote areas and over water, therefore the general public does not get to view these exercises.

PRETTY NEAT, HUH? Now, pass it along.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to friend Marie and her hubby.

Posted by Omie at 04:57 PM | Comments (0)

February 19, 2008

Tired Dog

THIS ONE WINS AN AWARD.........TIRED DOG

An old, tired-looking dog wandered into the yard. I could tell from his collar and well-fed belly that he had a home.

He followed me into the house, down the hall, and fell asleep in a corner.


An hour later, he went to the door and I let him out.

The next day he was back, resumed his position in the hall, and slept for an hour.

This continued for several weeks. Finally, my curiosity got to me and I pinned a note to his collar: "Every afternoon your dog comes to my house for a nap."

The next day he arrived with a different note pinned to his collar:

"He lives in a home with 10 children; he's trying to catch up on his sleep.

"May I come with him tomorrow??"
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to internet friend, Debbie, for this good story. The dog featured is my beloved 15 year old "grand" dog, Brisbane, in his younger years.

Posted by Omie at 02:11 PM | Comments (0)

February 11, 2008

Keep Your Fork

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things "in order," she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.

Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her. "There's one more thing," she said excitedly.

"What's that?" came the Pastor's reply.

"This is very important," the young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say. "That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked.

"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the Pastor.

The young woman explained. "My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement.

In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork. It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!'

So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder "What's with the fork?" Then I want you to tell them: "Keep your fork, the best is yet to come."

The Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge.

She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right h and. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled.

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her.

He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.

He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.

Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us.

Show your friends how much you care. Remember to always be there for them, even when you need them more. For you never know when it may be their time to "Keep your fork."

Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share being friends with someone is not an opportunity but a sweet responsibility.

And keep your fork.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to old neighbor and good buddy, Don M.

Posted by Omie at 01:14 PM | Comments (0)

February 07, 2008

Survival at Sea

It happened every Friday evening, almost without fail, when the sun resembled a giant orange and was starting to dip into the blue ocean.

Old Ed came strolling along the beach to his favorite pier. Clutched in his bony hand was a bucket of shrimp.

Ed walks out to the end of the pier, where it seems he almost has the world to himself. The glow of the sun is a golden bronze now.

Everybody's gone, except for a few joggers on the beach. Standing out on the end of the pier, Ed is alone with his thoughts....and his bucket of shrimp.

Before long, however, he is no longer alone. Up in the sky a thousand white dots come screeching and squawking, winging their way toward that lanky frame standing there on the end of the pier.

Before long, dozens of seagulls have enveloped him, their wings fluttering and flapping wildly.

Ed stands there tossing shrimp to the hungry birds. As he does, if you listen closely, you can hear him say with a smile, "Thank you. Thank you."

In a few short minutes the bucket is empty. But Ed doesn't leave.

He stands there lost in thought, as though transported to another time and place. Invariably, one of the gulls lands on his sea-bleached, weather-beaten hat - an old military hat he's been wearing for years.

When he finally turns around and begins to walk back toward the beach, a few of the birds hop along the pier with him until he gets to the stairs, and then they, too, fly away. And old Ed quietly makes his way down to the end of the beach and on home.

If you were sitting there on the pier with your fishing line in the water, Ed might seem like "a funny old duck," as my dad used to say. Or, "a guy that's a sandwich shy of a picnic," as my kids might say. To onlookers, he's just another old codger, lost in his own weird world, feeding the seagulls with a bucket full of shrimp.

To the onlooker, rituals can look either very strange or very empty. They can seem altogether unimportant ....maybe even a lot of nonsense.

Old folks often do strange things, at least in the eyes of Boomers and Busters.

Most of them would probably write Old Ed off, down there in Florida. That's too bad. They'd do well to know him better.

His full name: Eddie Rickenbacker. He was a famous hero back in World War II. On one of his flying missions across the Pacific, he and his seven-member crew went down. Miraculously, all of the men survived, crawled out of their plane, and climbed into a life raft.

Captain Rickenbacker and his crew floated for days on the rough waters of the Pacific. They fought the sun. They fought sharks. Most of all, they fought hunger. By the eighth day their rations ran out. No food. No water. They were hundreds of miles from land and no one knew where they were.

They needed a miracle. That afternoon they had a simple devotional service and prayed for a miracle. They tried to nap. Eddie leaned back and pulled his military cap over his nose. Time dragged. All he could hear was the slap of the waves against the raft.

Suddenly, Eddie felt something land on the top of his cap. It was a seagull!

Old Ed would later describe how he sat perfectly still, planning his next move. With a flash of his hand and a squawk from the gull, he managed to grab it and wring its neck. He tore the feathers off, and he and his starving crew made a meal - a very slight meal for eight men - of it. Then they used the intestines for bait. With it, they caught fish, which gave them food and more bait......and the cycle continued. With that simple survival technique, they were able to endure the rigors of the sea until they were found and rescued. (after 24 days at sea...)

Eddie Rickenbacker lived many years beyond that ordeal, but he never forgot the sacrifice of that first lifesaving seagull. And he never stopped saying, "Thank you." That's why almost every Friday night he would walk to the end of the pier with a bucket full of shrimp and a heart full of gratitude.

(Max Lucado, In The Eye of the Storm, pp. 221, 225-226)

PS: Eddie, an Ace in WW I, also started Eastern Airlines.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks, Marie.

Posted by Omie at 02:24 PM | Comments (0)

February 04, 2008

Why God Allows Pain....

This is one of the best explanations of why God allows pain and suffering that I have seen...

A man went to a barbershop to have his hair cut and his beard trimmed. As the barber began to work, they began to have a good conversation.

They talked about so many things and various subjects. When they eventually touched on the subject of God, the barber said: "I don't believe that God exists."

"Why do you say that?" asked the customer.

"Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist."

"Tell me, if God exists, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abandoned children?"

"If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain."

I can't imagine a loving God who would allow all of these things."

The customer thought for a moment, but didn't respond because he didn't want to start an argument.

The barber finished his job and the customer left the shop.

Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard.

He looked dirty and unkempt. The customer turned back and entered the barber shop again and he said to the barber:

"You know what? Barbers do not exist."

"How can you say that?" asked the surprised barber. "I am here, and I am a barber. And I just worked on you!"

"No!" the customer exclaimed. "Barbers don't exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside."

"Ah, but barbers DO exist! That's what happens when people do not come to me."

"Exactly!" affirmed the customer. "That's the point! God, too, DOES exist! That's what happens when people do not go to Him and don't look to Him for help."

That's why there's so much pain and suffering in the world."

BE BLESSED & BE A BLESSING TO OTHERS!
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to my friend, "Sweetie" and his wife.

Posted by Omie at 08:29 PM | Comments (0)

January 30, 2008

I Am A Christian

by Maya Angelou

"A woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ that a man should have to seek Him first to find her."

When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin;"
I'm whispering, "I was lost, now I'm found and forgiven."

When I say... "I am a Christian" I don't speak of this with pride;
I'm confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide.

When I say..."I am a Christian" I'm not trying to be strong;
I'm professing that I'm weak and need His strength to carry on.

When I say..."I am a Christian" I'm not bragging of success;
I'm admitting I have failed and need God to clean my mess.

When I say..."I am a Christian" I'm not claiming to be perfect;
My flaws are far too visible but, God believes I am worth it.

When I say... "I am a Christian" I still feel the sting of pain;
I have my share of heartaches, so I call upon His name.

When I say..."I am a Christian" I'm not holier than thou;
I'm just a simple sinner who received God's grace, somehow!

Pretty is as pretty does... but beautiful is just plain beautiful!
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to my beautiful Christian sister, Gladys!

Posted by Omie at 10:08 PM | Comments (0)

January 28, 2008

Food Art

Beautiful scences and landscapes made from food. Yummy!

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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to my young friend, Kerri. Muy Bueno.

Posted by Omie at 09:34 PM | Comments (2)

Comments Made in 1955

Actual comments made in the year 1955! That's only 52 years ago!

"I'm afraid the Volkswagen car is going to open the door to a whole lot of foreign business."

"Thank goodness I won't live to see the day when the Government takes half our income in taxes. I sometimes wonder if we are electing the best people to congress."

"The drive-in restaurant is convenient in nice weather, but I seriously doubt they will ever catch on."

"There is no sense going to Lincoln or Omaha anymore for a weekend, it costs nearly $15.00 a night to stay in a hotel."

"No one can afford to be sick anymore, at $35.00 a day in the hospital, it's too rich for my blood."

"If they think I'll pay 50 cents for a hair cut, forget it."

"I'll tell you one thing, if things keep going the way they are, it's going to be impossible to buy a week's groceries for $20.00."

"Have you seen the new cars coming out next year? It won't be long before $2,000.00 won't buy a used one."

"If cigarettes keep going up in price, I'm going to quit. A quarter a pack is ridiculous.

"Did you hear the post office is thinking about charging a dime just to mail a letter?"

"If they raise the minimum wage to $1.00, nobody will be able to hire outside help at the store."

"When I first started driving, who would have thought gas would someday cost 29 cents a gallon. Guess we'd be better off leaving the car in the garage."

"Kids today are impossible. Those duck tail hair cuts make it impossible to stay groomed. Next thing you know, boys will be wearing their hair as long as the girls."

"I'm afraid to send my kids to the movies any more. Ever since they let Clark Gable get by with saying DAMN in GONE WITH THE WIND, it seems every new movie has either HELL or DAMN in it."

"I read the other day where some scientist thinks it's possible to put a man on the moon by the end of the century. They even have some fellows they call astronauts preparing for it down in Texas."

"Did you see where some baseball player just signed a contract for $75,000 a year just to play ball? It wouldn't surprise me if someday they'll be making more than the President."

"I never thought I'd see the day all our kitchen appliances would be electric. They are even making electric typewriters now."

"It's too bad things are so tough nowadays. I see where a few married women are having to work to make ends meet."

"It won't be long before young couples are going to have to hire someone to watch their kids so they can both work."

"Marriage doesn't mean a thing any more, those Hollywood stars seem to be getting divorced at the drop of a hat."
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Marie

Posted by Omie at 08:23 PM | Comments (0)

January 23, 2008

Slow Dance

Have you ever watched kids

On a merry-go-round?

Or listened to the rain

Slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?

Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?

You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.

Do you run through each day

On the fly?

When you ask 'How are you?'

Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done

Do you lie in your bed

With the next hundred chores

Running through your head?

You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.

Ever told your child,

We'll do it tomorrow?

And in your haste,

Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch,

Let a good friendship die

Cause you never had time

To call and say,'Hi'

You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere

You miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,

It is like an unopened gift....

Thrown away.

Life is not a race.

Do take it slower

Hear the music

Before the song is over.

Author Unknown. (This poem was supposedly penned by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital.)
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Carole

Posted by Omie at 09:19 PM | Comments (0)

January 17, 2008

To Those Born Between 1920 - 1979

TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930's, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's!!

First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.

They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.

Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention, the risks we took hitchhiking.

As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster seats, seat belts or air bags.

Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.

We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and NO ONE actually died from this.

We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank Kool-aid made with sugar, but we weren' t overweight because, WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the street lights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chat rooms.......

WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!

We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.

We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!

Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!

These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!

The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!

If YOU are one of them, CONGRATULATIONS!

You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of our lives for our own good.

While you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave (and lucky) their parents were.

Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?!

The quote of the month is by Jay Leno:

'With hurricanes, tornados, 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?'
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to Carole

Posted by Omie at 11:21 AM | Comments (0)

January 16, 2008

Max's First Snow

Here are some pictures of grandbaby's Christmas trip to Chicago to visit his other grandmother, grandfather, aunts, and uncles, the SIL's family. Wonderful snowy trip.

Max LOVES doggies

Playing with doggy. Now, be gentle with puppies, Max.

Awhhhh.....happy baby. So cute.

First Snow Ride

Uh Oh! First snow face plant

Calm down everyone, Mommy will make it better.

Awh, now that's much better...

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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to grandbaby, Max and his Mom and Dad for sharing their Northern Christmas holiday pictures.

Posted by Omie at 02:04 PM | Comments (0)

January 10, 2008

Dad and Cheyenne

"Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!" My father yelled at me. "Can't you do anything right?" Those words hurt worse than blows.

I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle. "I saw the car Dad, please don't yell at me when I'm driving."

My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation.

The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as she read she article describing a remarkable study done at a nursing home.

All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs,black dogs, spotted dogs-all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons, too big, too small, too much hair.

As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and satdown.It was a pointer, one of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, and then shook his head in puzzlement. "He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him, that was two weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow. He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to kill him?"

"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every unclaimed dog."

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll take him," I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

"Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly.

Dad looked, and then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don't want it." Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

"You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you hear me, Dad?" I screamed those words as Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently, then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community.They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years.Dad's bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind. The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.""I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: The sympathetic voice that had just read the right article...Cheyenne's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. His calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father and the proximity of their deaths, and suddenly I understood, I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to friend, Diana.

Posted by Omie at 04:42 PM | Comments (0)

January 09, 2008

Two Horse Friends

----- There is a field, with two horses in it.

From a distance, each horse looks like any other horse. But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing...


Looking into the eyes of one horse will disclose that he is blind. His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but has made a good home for him.

This alone is amazing.

If you stand nearby and listen, you will hear the sound of a bell.

Looking around for the source of the sound, you will see that it comes from the smaller horse in the field. Attached to the horse's halter is a small bell.

It lets the blind friend know where the other horse is, so he can follow.

As you stand and watch these two friends, you'll see that the horse with the bell is always checking on the blind horse, and that the blind horse will listen for the bell and then slowly walk to where the other horse is, trusting that he will not be led astray.

When the horse with the bell returns to the shelter of the barn each evening, it stops occasionally and looks back, making sure that the blind friend isn't too far behind to hear the bell.

Like the owners of these two horses, we are not thrown away just because we are not perfect or because we have problems or challenges. Others are mysteriously brought into our lives to help us when we are in need.

Sometimes we are the blind horse being guided by the little ringing bell of those friends who are placed in our lives.

Other times we are the guide horse, helping others to find their way....

Good friends are like that... you may not always see them, but you know they are always there.

Please listen for my bell and I'll listen for yours. And remember...be kinder than necessary- everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.
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<3 GrandMom Love ~ Thanks to friend, Gladys

Posted by Omie at 10:55 AM | Comments (0)

January 03, 2008

Personal Post Update

Things are slow in the email joke department, folks, so I am making a very quick and simple post just to share a few Christmas and New Year happenings.

Best Christmas present....just being with my grandbabies for their very first Christmas. Of course, the bags, boxes, and wrapping paper were much more interesting then their gifts and/or toys. The two babies were lying in the middle of the floor playing when the five month old baby got just a little overwhelmed with the exuberant playing of the ten month old and had to be picked up and comforted.

Next best Christmas present..... On Christmas Eve, an older gentleman approached me at the grocery store and gave me a warm hug and a tootie roll pop. He does this for all the little kids in the store. heh heh. Thanks, Rocky, I needed that.

My daughter and SIL took Max on his first plane ride to Chicago to meet for the first time his other grandparents. They said he acted up on the return trip, but I couldn't believe that. HOW COULD THE BEST BABY IN THE WORLD GET FUSSY? No way. heh heh.

For your information....On their return, they were grounded for seven hours in the Chicago O'Hare airport, had to rebook their departure flight and, of course, the airlines lost their baggage. I picked this little family up, hungry, cold and tired, at 11:45 pm New Years day minus their luggage or baby car seat. My daughter had to borrow a baby seat from the airline until theirs is recovered. Kudos to my SIL for practicing patience. C'est la vi!

Am grateful to all of you, (friends and strangers) who visit Chatta Mom regularly or just from time to time. Thanks for your comments and encouragement. Hopefully you get a few chuckles, your spirit is lifted, and you can pass along your smile to those around you.
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<3 GrandMom Love -