I was walking along, and saw a piece of electrical tape on the floor, and kinda scuffed it with my foot, and kept walking.
My "little voice" said to me, "You know, if you don't pick it up, then you're part of the problem." So, I turned around and picked it up. I went down the hallway, through the door, and started up the aisle, when part of someone's ripped up receipt caught my eye. I didn't let myself think twice, I just reached down and picked it up.
I had passed it a couple of times already this morning, as had uncounted others. But there is within me somewhere, this occasional "good guy" that says, "If you see a problem, and you ignore it, then you are the problem."
A lot of times, I ignore him, but today, for some reason, I felt like listening. Too bad everything else in life isn't so easy to fix. I now have a nice, neat looking office area, thanks to two bits of trash in my trash can. Today, for once, I wasn't a part of that problem.
I don't know what that proves or disproves, it's just my good deed(s) for the year, I guess.
Santa, did you notice?
Monday, November 21, 2005
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Thanksgiving Revisited
This is a repost of my 2nd post. I figured, being that it's less than a week from Thanksgiving, that this was worth re-reading - at least, for myself.
Although Thanksgiving is past, and even Christmas, and now, the first day of the New Year is already upon us, and gone. I have been thinking about Thanksgiving, and what it means. I am just now getting around to writing my thoughts down.
Going back to my childhood, from my earliest years, the two times of year that we always looked forward to was Thanksgiving and the Family Reunion. Yes, Christmas was good. And Easter. But, Thanksgiving and Reunion time were the times that, year after year, did not change.
In August, we always went to the family reunion (or it came to us). We would have our extended families, from Texas sometimes, always eastern Arkansas and Mississippi. Earliest memories include family reunions at Granny Rosie’s – baked sweet potatoes and fried pies. But, we could always count on one thing that was better than the food. Most years, our cousins Greg and Joel would show up – and we always loved to play with them. Even Tina – although she was a girl. I can still remember hanging out of the top of the shed (there was a kind of hole under the peak) and shooting at the Japs outside. Or making tunnels in the haystacks in the barn. Or, just exploring.
As much fun as all the kids had with each other, though, I think what I liked best was having Uncle Wilbur and Aunt Roxie around. Greg and Joel called them Grandma and Grampa. But, we always called them Aunt and Uncle…. But, on Dad’s side of the family, they WERE our grandparents. Uncle Wilbur was older than Dad – although Dad was no spring chick himself. I used to love visits by my Granny and Pop, but I loved Wilbur and Roxie no less. When I got old enough, I used to love harassing Roxie with my camera. But, even before that, she was my Grandma, even if she really wasn’t.
Which is what made Thanksgiving the ‘other’ special time. The two facts of life was that the Mississip’ Gang would come in August, and we’d go there for Thanksgiving. I can remember many evenings of play around the old homesite in Mississippi. I remember chickens clucking around in the back near the barn. Remember Ernie in his horse days, riding and roping. Running down the road to Greg’s or Joel’s, or just playing in the front yard, near the big old oak tree, chasing lightning bugs. Some Thanksgivings were just like summertime – we played outside like midsummer. Some were cold – I can remember the house being closed up and curtained off to keep the drafts out.
I can remember, either at our house or theirs, but mainly at theirs, Dad and Wilbur – sometimes another uncle or two, setting on the front porch, rolling a Prince Albert, telling stories. I can’t say that I can remember any details (I sure wish I could! If someone remembers tales told by the old folks in your families – please write them down – we need to remember, for our kids and grandkids). I can remember that Wilbur and Roxie had an ice machine – that was cool. I’d get a glass of ice and go sit out on the porch while Uncle Wilbur was out there, and crunch ice. He’d act like it really bothered him – I don’t really know if it did, but he’d tell me to quit that crunching, and I’d do it all the more. And, the only liver and onions that I remember really liking were Aunt Roxie’s.
I remember going to see Pat and Stacy – and how Stacy would drive to Tupelo to save a nickel on butter. And going to see Sue and Jerry – I remember the big semi-truck, and seeing the kids, even though they were older than us, was always fun. And Jimmy and his kids. They used to play with my older siblings a lot. Of course, there was (and still is) some family there! Tony always had something going…. Debbie who, like Pat, was another ‘Mom’, and Ernie, who thought that the canned meat in the fridge was awfully good till his Mom asked him the next day where the Alpo was! And last, but not at all the least, I remember the little old Chihuahua, Mousy, who fiercely guarded the biscuit, even if he couldn’t eat it. Used to nip at us whenever we even got near that biscuit.
Thanksgiving, Christmas, and now New Year’s eve is past. But, I am thankful for all the things I have. I have two wonderful children and a wonderful wife. I have lots of other family members, who I do not have the chance to see all the time, but whom I love no less. And, strange as it may seem, I am very thankful for some things that I no longer can see or touch. I really miss my Mississippi Grandma and Grandpa. But, I am very thankful that I have the wonderful memories of my childhood, and that my parents took the time to teach us that family is so very important. Although much has changed – I am now in my thirties, not 7, Wilbur and Roxie, Dad, Sue, Jimmy, and Pat, even Greg, all gone – I still remember – and I still love them all.
I told my wife the other day, that I am not a ‘resolution’ person. But, I think I’ll make an exception. The resolution, if you want to call it that, is to make an attempt to go back and remember my family, those still with us and those now in heaven. And reach out to those people that I remember, even if it’s just to say ‘Hello’ and ‘I miss you’, maybe share a memory or two. I have been away from home now for a long time. I have missed a few family reunions, when it just wasn’t possible to be there due to work or life events. I am not the only one. Our family reunions have gotten smaller over time, although some recently were pretty big, considering. As the family grows, it inevitably grows apart. Dad’s generation is all gone. I can barely remember some of his brothers, and some not at all. But, now their kids are all grown, some with Grandkids of their own. The family reunion is a place where those kids go and think, who the heck are those people?
So, maybe the next part of the resolution, would be to work on that family tree that I started a couple of years ago, and create a ‘Where do you fit in?’ document. I could start at my grandfather’s level, since that’s where I remember people from. He passed on before I was born, but several of his children will be forever etched into my memories.
And, last, but most important. Whether we go to or miss a family reunion is not the point. What we should all attempt to do is to teach our children the importance of understanding who we are and who our family is. In this day and age, we may not be able to see our Grandparents or cousins more than once or twice a year (I know. I live 1200 miles away). But, even so, our children should know their family, even if it is only twice a year. A family reunion or Thanksgiving is a good goal to shoot for. For me personally, as described above, the family reunion and Thanksgiving (which was, essentially, another reunion) were the two times every year, that all us kids were together, and when we were always near our Grandparents and other’s who loved us. Our kids should have some of that, too! They may treasure those memories in later years.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Although Thanksgiving is past, and even Christmas, and now, the first day of the New Year is already upon us, and gone. I have been thinking about Thanksgiving, and what it means. I am just now getting around to writing my thoughts down.
Going back to my childhood, from my earliest years, the two times of year that we always looked forward to was Thanksgiving and the Family Reunion. Yes, Christmas was good. And Easter. But, Thanksgiving and Reunion time were the times that, year after year, did not change.
In August, we always went to the family reunion (or it came to us). We would have our extended families, from Texas sometimes, always eastern Arkansas and Mississippi. Earliest memories include family reunions at Granny Rosie’s – baked sweet potatoes and fried pies. But, we could always count on one thing that was better than the food. Most years, our cousins Greg and Joel would show up – and we always loved to play with them. Even Tina – although she was a girl. I can still remember hanging out of the top of the shed (there was a kind of hole under the peak) and shooting at the Japs outside. Or making tunnels in the haystacks in the barn. Or, just exploring.
As much fun as all the kids had with each other, though, I think what I liked best was having Uncle Wilbur and Aunt Roxie around. Greg and Joel called them Grandma and Grampa. But, we always called them Aunt and Uncle…. But, on Dad’s side of the family, they WERE our grandparents. Uncle Wilbur was older than Dad – although Dad was no spring chick himself. I used to love visits by my Granny and Pop, but I loved Wilbur and Roxie no less. When I got old enough, I used to love harassing Roxie with my camera. But, even before that, she was my Grandma, even if she really wasn’t.
Which is what made Thanksgiving the ‘other’ special time. The two facts of life was that the Mississip’ Gang would come in August, and we’d go there for Thanksgiving. I can remember many evenings of play around the old homesite in Mississippi. I remember chickens clucking around in the back near the barn. Remember Ernie in his horse days, riding and roping. Running down the road to Greg’s or Joel’s, or just playing in the front yard, near the big old oak tree, chasing lightning bugs. Some Thanksgivings were just like summertime – we played outside like midsummer. Some were cold – I can remember the house being closed up and curtained off to keep the drafts out.
I can remember, either at our house or theirs, but mainly at theirs, Dad and Wilbur – sometimes another uncle or two, setting on the front porch, rolling a Prince Albert, telling stories. I can’t say that I can remember any details (I sure wish I could! If someone remembers tales told by the old folks in your families – please write them down – we need to remember, for our kids and grandkids). I can remember that Wilbur and Roxie had an ice machine – that was cool. I’d get a glass of ice and go sit out on the porch while Uncle Wilbur was out there, and crunch ice. He’d act like it really bothered him – I don’t really know if it did, but he’d tell me to quit that crunching, and I’d do it all the more. And, the only liver and onions that I remember really liking were Aunt Roxie’s.
I remember going to see Pat and Stacy – and how Stacy would drive to Tupelo to save a nickel on butter. And going to see Sue and Jerry – I remember the big semi-truck, and seeing the kids, even though they were older than us, was always fun. And Jimmy and his kids. They used to play with my older siblings a lot. Of course, there was (and still is) some family there! Tony always had something going…. Debbie who, like Pat, was another ‘Mom’, and Ernie, who thought that the canned meat in the fridge was awfully good till his Mom asked him the next day where the Alpo was! And last, but not at all the least, I remember the little old Chihuahua, Mousy, who fiercely guarded the biscuit, even if he couldn’t eat it. Used to nip at us whenever we even got near that biscuit.
Thanksgiving, Christmas, and now New Year’s eve is past. But, I am thankful for all the things I have. I have two wonderful children and a wonderful wife. I have lots of other family members, who I do not have the chance to see all the time, but whom I love no less. And, strange as it may seem, I am very thankful for some things that I no longer can see or touch. I really miss my Mississippi Grandma and Grandpa. But, I am very thankful that I have the wonderful memories of my childhood, and that my parents took the time to teach us that family is so very important. Although much has changed – I am now in my thirties, not 7, Wilbur and Roxie, Dad, Sue, Jimmy, and Pat, even Greg, all gone – I still remember – and I still love them all.
I told my wife the other day, that I am not a ‘resolution’ person. But, I think I’ll make an exception. The resolution, if you want to call it that, is to make an attempt to go back and remember my family, those still with us and those now in heaven. And reach out to those people that I remember, even if it’s just to say ‘Hello’ and ‘I miss you’, maybe share a memory or two. I have been away from home now for a long time. I have missed a few family reunions, when it just wasn’t possible to be there due to work or life events. I am not the only one. Our family reunions have gotten smaller over time, although some recently were pretty big, considering. As the family grows, it inevitably grows apart. Dad’s generation is all gone. I can barely remember some of his brothers, and some not at all. But, now their kids are all grown, some with Grandkids of their own. The family reunion is a place where those kids go and think, who the heck are those people?
So, maybe the next part of the resolution, would be to work on that family tree that I started a couple of years ago, and create a ‘Where do you fit in?’ document. I could start at my grandfather’s level, since that’s where I remember people from. He passed on before I was born, but several of his children will be forever etched into my memories.
And, last, but most important. Whether we go to or miss a family reunion is not the point. What we should all attempt to do is to teach our children the importance of understanding who we are and who our family is. In this day and age, we may not be able to see our Grandparents or cousins more than once or twice a year (I know. I live 1200 miles away). But, even so, our children should know their family, even if it is only twice a year. A family reunion or Thanksgiving is a good goal to shoot for. For me personally, as described above, the family reunion and Thanksgiving (which was, essentially, another reunion) were the two times every year, that all us kids were together, and when we were always near our Grandparents and other’s who loved us. Our kids should have some of that, too! They may treasure those memories in later years.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
The Spatula
Now, I am not the most sour and dour person in the world, and sometimes I chuckle now and then, but I am usually a fairly serious person (excepting, of course, the times when I am not).
A couple of years ago, my son started reading the series, "A Series of Unfortunate Events". It is a tale of tragedy and woe, about the misadventures of three orphans whose parents die in the very beginning of the first book, when their home burns down. And it goes downhill from there. It will ultimately have 13 volumes, and now even a movie has been made loosely (very loosely) based on the first few books.
A lot of the things in these stories are almost as if they've been picked up from an alternate dimension - one in which our realities are waived a little bit, and the unbelievable becomes believable. The absurd becomes ordinary. If nothing else, it forces you to think "outside the box". The movie, although it does not strictly follow the storyline of the books, does a very fine job of capturing the essence of the otherworldness that is represented throughout.
In Book the Twelfth, The Penultimate Peril, I found myself laughing out loud at a couple of the things said. First time I've done that in a while.
Specifically, in this book, the oldest Baudelaire orphan, Violet, in disguise as a hotel concierge, gets called up to the roof of the hotel, where the sunbathing salon is located. I will quote a passage that won't give away the storyline:
A couple of years ago, my son started reading the series, "A Series of Unfortunate Events". It is a tale of tragedy and woe, about the misadventures of three orphans whose parents die in the very beginning of the first book, when their home burns down. And it goes downhill from there. It will ultimately have 13 volumes, and now even a movie has been made loosely (very loosely) based on the first few books.
A lot of the things in these stories are almost as if they've been picked up from an alternate dimension - one in which our realities are waived a little bit, and the unbelievable becomes believable. The absurd becomes ordinary. If nothing else, it forces you to think "outside the box". The movie, although it does not strictly follow the storyline of the books, does a very fine job of capturing the essence of the otherworldness that is represented throughout.
In Book the Twelfth, The Penultimate Peril, I found myself laughing out loud at a couple of the things said. First time I've done that in a while.
Specifically, in this book, the oldest Baudelaire orphan, Violet, in disguise as a hotel concierge, gets called up to the roof of the hotel, where the sunbathing salon is located. I will quote a passage that won't give away the storyline:
"Ten sunbathers, their bare skin coated in thick, sticky, lotion, lay without moving on shiny mats arranged around a heated swimming pool, which was so warm that clouds of steam were floating up from the surface. In a corner was an attendant, his eyes covered in green sunglasses and his body covered in a long, baggy robe. He was holding two enormous spatulas, such as might be used to flip pancakes, and from time to time he would reach out with a spatula and flip over one of the sunbathers, so that their bellies and backs would be the same shade of brown."Maybe it's just me, but ... that's funny. In a silly-stupid sort of way.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Sunday, November 13, 2005
My Weekend Project
My weekend project this weekend was to take the white entryway into the basement and create shelf space. I found a couple of old-fashioned posters that have been around for a while, put some old boards together to use as a backdrop (a frame of sorts) and then took some lumber and built shelves to display my "antique cars". My daughter's artwork adorns the wall to the right, and the shelf in the middle has her pom-pom's and trolley and bear in a boat (for now).
Williamstown PA
More PA autumn shots
It's getting a little bit late in the "color" season, but there's been some beautiful weather of late. Getting into the 30s and 40s at night and 60s and 70s in the daytime. These pictures were taken over the last week within about 5 miles of our home.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Finally Friday
So, you say it's Thursday, huh?
My work week has been a little strange though. It all began October 24. That is, Monday. I worked my "40 hour week" and then went on call, Friday, October 28. That evening, at work, we had a system "crash" (computer system, that is) and although I didn't have to come in, I spent several hours online and on the phone with various people in determining cause and so on.
Then, Saturday, of course the phone was ringing - following up to the original problem, new problems, etc. Saturday night, I napped for a little while, then headed into work at about one a.m. for some changes and things that were happening. I got back home at six a.m. Sunday morning - that is to say, seven hours after midnight (fall-back, you know), and napped for a while again, before getting up and doing stuff around the house.
So, I got up Monday and went to work without a real weekend, and did my next four days, more or less normal. Friday, I took off during the day, but headed to Philadelphia for a work-trip Friday night. I left Harrisburg around 10 and got to the motel about midnight. To sleep by one and up and at em by 6a.m.
I worked all day, took a break for dinner, and worked again till 11:30 or so, then back to the motel by midnight, asleep by one, and started over again Sunday. I left there around noontime or a little after on Sunday, and back home again.
Monday, i got up and headed to work, and it's been a "normal" week since then. But, now it's November 10, and I haven't really had a "weekend" since before October 24. Tomorrow is Veteran's Day, so this is my "Friday". And this weekend, is a 3-day weekend. Hopefully, not too many on-call things happening (considering I am not on-call).
I am ready for a break, believe it or not......... I am tired enough to sit here and ramble about this stuff and no doubt you're tired, too, and snoring by now, from sheer boredom. But, I guess, it's the only thing going on right now, so it's what I'll report on.
So, have a nice weekend all!
Me
My work week has been a little strange though. It all began October 24. That is, Monday. I worked my "40 hour week" and then went on call, Friday, October 28. That evening, at work, we had a system "crash" (computer system, that is) and although I didn't have to come in, I spent several hours online and on the phone with various people in determining cause and so on.
Then, Saturday, of course the phone was ringing - following up to the original problem, new problems, etc. Saturday night, I napped for a little while, then headed into work at about one a.m. for some changes and things that were happening. I got back home at six a.m. Sunday morning - that is to say, seven hours after midnight (fall-back, you know), and napped for a while again, before getting up and doing stuff around the house.
So, I got up Monday and went to work without a real weekend, and did my next four days, more or less normal. Friday, I took off during the day, but headed to Philadelphia for a work-trip Friday night. I left Harrisburg around 10 and got to the motel about midnight. To sleep by one and up and at em by 6a.m.
I worked all day, took a break for dinner, and worked again till 11:30 or so, then back to the motel by midnight, asleep by one, and started over again Sunday. I left there around noontime or a little after on Sunday, and back home again.
Monday, i got up and headed to work, and it's been a "normal" week since then. But, now it's November 10, and I haven't really had a "weekend" since before October 24. Tomorrow is Veteran's Day, so this is my "Friday". And this weekend, is a 3-day weekend. Hopefully, not too many on-call things happening (considering I am not on-call).
I am ready for a break, believe it or not......... I am tired enough to sit here and ramble about this stuff and no doubt you're tired, too, and snoring by now, from sheer boredom. But, I guess, it's the only thing going on right now, so it's what I'll report on.
So, have a nice weekend all!
Me
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Monday, November 07, 2005
Sweet Tarts
Well... Halloween was done a week ago.
And yesterday, driving back from a trip to the Philadelphia area, I happened onto a station that was playing nothing but Christmas tunes until sometime in January. I'll say, for me, it was nice to hear "Frosty the Snowman", and "All I Want for Christmas is You". Heck, I sing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" and "Jingle Bells" and "Deck the Halls..." all year long. Or, at least hum. Or, whistle. Unless I am at home, because it is frowned upon there.
But, back to halloween. Remember going trick-or-treating, and coming home with a sack of candy. We didn't do a lot of candy, most of the year, but trick-or-treating was pretty cool. Total strangers would give us candy just for coming to the door. Sure wish I could get other stuff that way.
There's a fellow here at work who fills a candy jar (actually a largish fish bowl) every day. I just grabbed a pack of sweet tarts. Remember opening them up, and hoping to get a green one, or whatever your favorite color was? I don't know if they all taste different, or if it's just in your head. In my case, I got two kinda off-white colored ones, and a blue one. They were tarty, but sweet. Wonder why they call them sweet tarts, anyway?
The other candy that I remember... I stumbled across some in someone's candy jar a couple of months ago. They are in a clear plastic wrapper, with dark lines striped across it. A peanut butter center, but a hard crunchy outer part. I forget what they are called... peanut butter logs maybe?
Back to sweet tarts, since that's the title of this bit of writing. Sweet Tarts. Well... I had some things I wanted to say about sweet tarts, but, well, they're just sweet tarts when it comes down to it. I could say life is like a pack of sweet tarts, but that line's already been taken.
Sometimes, it is though. I think it's more like sweet tarts than chocolate. Chocolate is messy and stuff when it gets hot. Sweet tarts are all right, but... even though they can be sweet, they're also tarty. I think life's like that. Life's not like a box of melted chocolates. Life's kinda hard and crunchy sometimes, not soft, like chocolates. So, hard and crunchy, both sweet and tarty, that's life.
Yep, I think that was more or less what I wanted to say. Have a nice day.
And yesterday, driving back from a trip to the Philadelphia area, I happened onto a station that was playing nothing but Christmas tunes until sometime in January. I'll say, for me, it was nice to hear "Frosty the Snowman", and "All I Want for Christmas is You". Heck, I sing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" and "Jingle Bells" and "Deck the Halls..." all year long. Or, at least hum. Or, whistle. Unless I am at home, because it is frowned upon there.
But, back to halloween. Remember going trick-or-treating, and coming home with a sack of candy. We didn't do a lot of candy, most of the year, but trick-or-treating was pretty cool. Total strangers would give us candy just for coming to the door. Sure wish I could get other stuff that way.
There's a fellow here at work who fills a candy jar (actually a largish fish bowl) every day. I just grabbed a pack of sweet tarts. Remember opening them up, and hoping to get a green one, or whatever your favorite color was? I don't know if they all taste different, or if it's just in your head. In my case, I got two kinda off-white colored ones, and a blue one. They were tarty, but sweet. Wonder why they call them sweet tarts, anyway?
The other candy that I remember... I stumbled across some in someone's candy jar a couple of months ago. They are in a clear plastic wrapper, with dark lines striped across it. A peanut butter center, but a hard crunchy outer part. I forget what they are called... peanut butter logs maybe?
Back to sweet tarts, since that's the title of this bit of writing. Sweet Tarts. Well... I had some things I wanted to say about sweet tarts, but, well, they're just sweet tarts when it comes down to it. I could say life is like a pack of sweet tarts, but that line's already been taken.
Sometimes, it is though. I think it's more like sweet tarts than chocolate. Chocolate is messy and stuff when it gets hot. Sweet tarts are all right, but... even though they can be sweet, they're also tarty. I think life's like that. Life's not like a box of melted chocolates. Life's kinda hard and crunchy sometimes, not soft, like chocolates. So, hard and crunchy, both sweet and tarty, that's life.
Yep, I think that was more or less what I wanted to say. Have a nice day.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Letter from h2g2
I wrote some time ago on the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Earth Edition (an online encyclopedia of sorts), and how I had submitted an article for "peer review" in the hopes that it would be picked up... it was, finally, (meaning, I am officially a "published" writer) and here's the email I recieved from them:
Dear James "Geekahilbility" Arkansawyer,
We're delighted to inform you that the h2g2 Guide Entry
that you sent to the Editors has indeed been Approved.
Your Entry has been used as the basis for an entry entitled
"Binary Digits".
This Approved Guide Entry may be viewed at the following URL:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A5771973
Thanks ever so much for helping to grow the Guide, and we
do hope that you continue to write and submit Entries of
this calibre.
Best wishes,
The h2g2 Team
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Earth Edition
Dear James "Geekahilbility" Arkansawyer,
We're delighted to inform you that the h2g2 Guide Entry
that you sent to the Editors has indeed been Approved.
Your Entry has been used as the basis for an entry entitled
"Binary Digits".
This Approved Guide Entry may be viewed at the following URL:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/A5771973
Thanks ever so much for helping to grow the Guide, and we
do hope that you continue to write and submit Entries of
this calibre.
Best wishes,
The h2g2 Team
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Earth Edition
Monday, October 31, 2005
Falling
Another from my file folder... written a couple of years ago:
Today as I was driving into work…
I looked around…
The leaves are beginning to change colors…
The wind and the rain from last night
Forced many of the leaves to abandon their grips on the trees.
Now, for the first time…
Fall is real.. fall is here…
Driving down the country roads…
Colors beginning to abound…
Blankets of leaves everywhere….
Wind blowing leaves here and there….
The feeling of magic
Begins to well up inside…
My pulse quickens…
It’s a great day to be alive…
A little chill in the morning air…
Afternoons a little warmer…
Summer is not quite gone…
But it is fading fast…
Winter’s not upon us yet…
We’re in that time of year
Where all is calm…
All is quiet…
The leaves falling…
Wind blowing them past me…
Life is good…
Especially with you here…
Today as I was driving into work…
I looked around…
The leaves are beginning to change colors…
The wind and the rain from last night
Forced many of the leaves to abandon their grips on the trees.
Now, for the first time…
Fall is real.. fall is here…
Driving down the country roads…
Colors beginning to abound…
Blankets of leaves everywhere….
Wind blowing leaves here and there….
The feeling of magic
Begins to well up inside…
My pulse quickens…
It’s a great day to be alive…
A little chill in the morning air…
Afternoons a little warmer…
Summer is not quite gone…
But it is fading fast…
Winter’s not upon us yet…
We’re in that time of year
Where all is calm…
All is quiet…
The leaves falling…
Wind blowing them past me…
Life is good…
Especially with you here…
Marigold
I just stumbled across this. I wrote it a few years ago. I suppose, it's not the best poetry in the world. Not even close to being my best writing. And the theme has been exploited by various artists in "The Rose" and other songs and poems. But, at the time, I guess it meant something to me, or I wouldn't have written it.
The Flower
A marigold is a lot like love;
The springtime sun warms the ground above,
And the seed begins to grow like crazy,
Never once becoming lazy.
With just a little rain,
It can overcome any pain.
As the summer comes and goes,
The beauty grows and grows.
Requiring only a little care,
Other flowers better beware;
Its beauty still grows stronger
As the nights grow longer and longer.
When the autumn nights get cold,
The blossoms still shine like gold.
Other flowers may give up hope,
But this one will not mope.
It lingers on and on,
Brightening almost any lawn.
But then one day the winter’s chill
Brings it down against its will.
The frost finally brings the end
And love is gone just like the wind.
Only the little seed remains,
To begin anew with springtime rains.
The springtime sun warms the ground above,
And the seed begins to grow like crazy,
Never once becoming lazy.
With just a little rain,
It can overcome any pain.
As the summer comes and goes,
The beauty grows and grows.
Requiring only a little care,
Other flowers better beware;
Its beauty still grows stronger
As the nights grow longer and longer.
When the autumn nights get cold,
The blossoms still shine like gold.
Other flowers may give up hope,
But this one will not mope.
It lingers on and on,
Brightening almost any lawn.
But then one day the winter’s chill
Brings it down against its will.
The frost finally brings the end
And love is gone just like the wind.
Only the little seed remains,
To begin anew with springtime rains.
Monday, October 24, 2005
It was all a bad dream
A couple of weeks ago, my daughter, age 7, came to me with her notebook. She had written down a dream that she had... She said she did not want to forget it. I copied it to my computer, and saved it for another day. Today, is another day.
There was this one man who was very bad and he was breaking glass cups on my Dad's head but I made a pillow shield but my legs were sticking out the other end so he grabbed me by the legs and started to break glass cups on my head.
Dad's note: I left this word-for-word as she wrote it (except that I corrected a couple of minor spelling errors). I asked for a little explanation on a couple of points. She said the "pillow shield" was like a fort made out of pillows, but it wasn't quite long enough to shield her, too.
There was this one man who was very bad and he was breaking glass cups on my Dad's head but I made a pillow shield but my legs were sticking out the other end so he grabbed me by the legs and started to break glass cups on my head.
Dad's note: I left this word-for-word as she wrote it (except that I corrected a couple of minor spelling errors). I asked for a little explanation on a couple of points. She said the "pillow shield" was like a fort made out of pillows, but it wasn't quite long enough to shield her, too.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Celebration
I went to a celebration today.
It was not a happy celebration - at least, not for me.
It was a "home going celebration" for a friend. Almost a week ago, this friend, this man, left his shell of a body behind, and headed up to be with his Creator.
I didn't know Al as well as I should have known him. I worked with him, from time to time, including a trip up to Warminster, Pennsylvania during a disaster recovery test for our employer. Normally, though, I worked in a different building, a different shift. I have several excuses for not knowing Al as well as I should have.
I do know this, though. Al was a good human being. He was one of those rare people who always had time for a handshake and a big, huge smile. When I had the opportunity to work beside him, he was up and out, doing things, and couldn't stand to sit idle. He "took care" of things.
All throughout the words that were spoken at his celebration, I heard several names used to describe him, "a big man", "Big Al", "Big Dad". He was a big man.
As I sat there, and listened to the stories, viewed the photographs, most of all... listened to the music. I began to wish that I had gotten to know Al even better than I did. He always took the time to welcome me, to make me feel special, any time I visited his work area. I heard other folks from work here, say the very same thing. Of all the people who worked in that building - he was the one who would get up and go out of his way to give you a big smile, a warm welcome, no matter what he may have been working on, no matter what may have been on his mind, he took the time. He was... a BIG man.
I left the celebration today. A mix of thoughts and feelings. The music which he loved so much... it had helped soothe the sense of loss that we all felt. The music, was not of a sorrowful nature. It was quick. It was happy music. Upbeat music. Music with a personality like Al’s, that brought you a smile despite the situation. It was the first service I had ever attended, of any type, at a predominately black church, and it was very nice. I felt at home.
I am glad Al got to go Home. He was one of only a handful of people I have ever known, who truly typified, in my mind, "a good human being". All of us have faults, even Al. I am sure of it, even though I didn't know him well enough to see his. But he was one of those rare individuals who took the time to do good... to fix wrongs... to prevent wrongs from happening by reaching out and crossing the bridges which separate the good from the bad, and brought the good across those bridges and forced the bad away. He was someone who radiated kindness. If indeed there is a heaven, people like Al, and my grandfather, and Grandpap Collins, will be there. And, I know they're pulling for me, too.
I wish I was more like them. Maybe, someday, I will be.
It was not a happy celebration - at least, not for me.
It was a "home going celebration" for a friend. Almost a week ago, this friend, this man, left his shell of a body behind, and headed up to be with his Creator.
I didn't know Al as well as I should have known him. I worked with him, from time to time, including a trip up to Warminster, Pennsylvania during a disaster recovery test for our employer. Normally, though, I worked in a different building, a different shift. I have several excuses for not knowing Al as well as I should have.
I do know this, though. Al was a good human being. He was one of those rare people who always had time for a handshake and a big, huge smile. When I had the opportunity to work beside him, he was up and out, doing things, and couldn't stand to sit idle. He "took care" of things.
All throughout the words that were spoken at his celebration, I heard several names used to describe him, "a big man", "Big Al", "Big Dad". He was a big man.
As I sat there, and listened to the stories, viewed the photographs, most of all... listened to the music. I began to wish that I had gotten to know Al even better than I did. He always took the time to welcome me, to make me feel special, any time I visited his work area. I heard other folks from work here, say the very same thing. Of all the people who worked in that building - he was the one who would get up and go out of his way to give you a big smile, a warm welcome, no matter what he may have been working on, no matter what may have been on his mind, he took the time. He was... a BIG man.
I left the celebration today. A mix of thoughts and feelings. The music which he loved so much... it had helped soothe the sense of loss that we all felt. The music, was not of a sorrowful nature. It was quick. It was happy music. Upbeat music. Music with a personality like Al’s, that brought you a smile despite the situation. It was the first service I had ever attended, of any type, at a predominately black church, and it was very nice. I felt at home.
I am glad Al got to go Home. He was one of only a handful of people I have ever known, who truly typified, in my mind, "a good human being". All of us have faults, even Al. I am sure of it, even though I didn't know him well enough to see his. But he was one of those rare individuals who took the time to do good... to fix wrongs... to prevent wrongs from happening by reaching out and crossing the bridges which separate the good from the bad, and brought the good across those bridges and forced the bad away. He was someone who radiated kindness. If indeed there is a heaven, people like Al, and my grandfather, and Grandpap Collins, will be there. And, I know they're pulling for me, too.
I wish I was more like them. Maybe, someday, I will be.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Magic Time Machine
Yesterday, a little part of me died.
Another piece was born.
The who-I-am of today, is not the same who-I-am which existed yesterday. That person is now who-I-was. I have changed. That person of yesterday is gone now.
Every day, we live, we breathe, we experience.
Those experiences, even the littlest things - but especially the big ones - change us in some small way. They meld together to shape a new person out of the raw material that was.
Have you ever had a "life-changing" experience? Of course you have, even if you answered "No".
Today, I worked on a problem. I learned something new. I became a new person.
Yesterday, I read a page in a book. That page affected me in some small way. I became a new person.
Have you ever wondered why you did something, an hour ago, a day ago, last week? How could you have ever done something so stupid, or brilliant? Yet, at the time, it seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do. The who-I-am that exists now, that person sees the event, the action, the reasons or excuses, in a different manner than who-I-was did. The who-I-am may wish to go back in time and change the past - to wipe out those thoughts, those actions, those mistakes, whether real or imagined.
But, what's done, is done. The best we can do today, is to look ahead to tomorrow, and try not to forget the lessons learned in yesterday, but at the same time - to quit living in yesterday, and push forward to a better tomorrow.
Who-I-was no longer exists. That person cannot change anything. The past, is past. There is no winding the clock backwards.
However, who-I-am has an enormous power to shape the future. The decisions you make today, the experiences you live today, those things will not only help to form who-I-will-become, but they will also create the world of tomorrow, and the next day, and, indeed, the rest of time. Who-I-am is here, and now, and has the privilege and the power to create a new tomorrow, and hopefully can create a better tomorrow using the lessons learned yesterday and today.
Another piece was born.
The who-I-am of today, is not the same who-I-am which existed yesterday. That person is now who-I-was. I have changed. That person of yesterday is gone now.
Every day, we live, we breathe, we experience.
Those experiences, even the littlest things - but especially the big ones - change us in some small way. They meld together to shape a new person out of the raw material that was.
Have you ever had a "life-changing" experience? Of course you have, even if you answered "No".
Today, I worked on a problem. I learned something new. I became a new person.
Yesterday, I read a page in a book. That page affected me in some small way. I became a new person.
Have you ever wondered why you did something, an hour ago, a day ago, last week? How could you have ever done something so stupid, or brilliant? Yet, at the time, it seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do. The who-I-am that exists now, that person sees the event, the action, the reasons or excuses, in a different manner than who-I-was did. The who-I-am may wish to go back in time and change the past - to wipe out those thoughts, those actions, those mistakes, whether real or imagined.
But, what's done, is done. The best we can do today, is to look ahead to tomorrow, and try not to forget the lessons learned in yesterday, but at the same time - to quit living in yesterday, and push forward to a better tomorrow.
Who-I-was no longer exists. That person cannot change anything. The past, is past. There is no winding the clock backwards.
However, who-I-am has an enormous power to shape the future. The decisions you make today, the experiences you live today, those things will not only help to form who-I-will-become, but they will also create the world of tomorrow, and the next day, and, indeed, the rest of time. Who-I-am is here, and now, and has the privilege and the power to create a new tomorrow, and hopefully can create a better tomorrow using the lessons learned yesterday and today.
Nameless
If I were just a grain of sand on a far distant beach, would you recognize me?
Or would you walk across the beach, the warm bits of sand burning your toes, and never even realize I was there?
Would you just breathe in the salty spray of the air, enjoying the sound of gulls crying out, and waves rolling into the shore, and then walk on to another place and time?
If I were less than a total stranger, a soul whose existence you never suspected, and then you saw me one day, what would you think?
Would I be some other nameless face in the crowd?
Would you look at me with your eyes, but not see me with your heart, and in the next moment be gone forever?
Or would you look deep into my eyes, inside my heart and soul, and somehow be able to show me some reflection of "me" that exists deep inside... a "me" that I couldn't have seen alone?
Or would you walk across the beach, the warm bits of sand burning your toes, and never even realize I was there?
Would you just breathe in the salty spray of the air, enjoying the sound of gulls crying out, and waves rolling into the shore, and then walk on to another place and time?
If I were less than a total stranger, a soul whose existence you never suspected, and then you saw me one day, what would you think?
Would I be some other nameless face in the crowd?
Would you look at me with your eyes, but not see me with your heart, and in the next moment be gone forever?
Or would you look deep into my eyes, inside my heart and soul, and somehow be able to show me some reflection of "me" that exists deep inside... a "me" that I couldn't have seen alone?
Friday, October 07, 2005
Blog This
It seems funny, but I've been blogging now since January. For a while, I did not put anything online because I lacked any motivation. I had a half-finished article on coffee and the effects of it. I didn't much like it, but I wanted to post something, so I cleaned it up a little (and if you poke around here a little, you can find it, named "Coffee, Good or Bad?").
And, it seems as if everyone wants to know about coffee. This one post, has two or three visits per week from people who do a search, somewhere online, about the effects of coffee on your health. It's the most visited post that I've done so far, and there have been people from all around the globe that have seen it, as a result of Google, MSN, Yahoo, and other search engines.
The funny thing is that it's probably one of my least favorite posts here. One of these days, maybe I'll update it with some factual information to actually make it more fact and less opinion.....
And, it seems as if everyone wants to know about coffee. This one post, has two or three visits per week from people who do a search, somewhere online, about the effects of coffee on your health. It's the most visited post that I've done so far, and there have been people from all around the globe that have seen it, as a result of Google, MSN, Yahoo, and other search engines.
The funny thing is that it's probably one of my least favorite posts here. One of these days, maybe I'll update it with some factual information to actually make it more fact and less opinion.....
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