Thursday, December 31, 2009
3 STOOGES MARATHON
Yes...I'm going to ring in the New Year with the 3 Stooges!!!! This beats the heck out of those singers and variety acts of years past. I'm ready!!! Nuk, nuk, nuk...Niagra Falls...slowly I turn, step by step, inch by inch....
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Merry Christmas
It's safe to say, I'm not really in the spirit of Christmas this year, since it will be my first Christmas without Dad. He was always fun during the holiday. The tradition of chocolate covered cherries and something for him to wear will certainly be missed.
Here it is Christmas Eve and I'm having to work real hard to even turn on the small battery powered tree which sits in the kitchen window. I need to get over this feeling real fast.
O.K.
We are truly blessed with our health, our freedom and our faith in God. There...now I feel much better. God Bless our troops who are spending their Christmas away from their families to keep us safe.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Happy 93, Dad
Today would have been my Dad's 93rd birthday. Sadly, he didn't quite make it, but we ate some of those chocolate covered, liquid filled cherries in his honor. As far back as I can remember, Dad always got a box of those for his birthday and another box for Christmas. I guess we will continue this fine family tradition.
Sure miss you Dad.
Thinking about Dad today, I remembered one of his stories he told from his tour in Italy during WWII. He drove truck and carried ammunition to the front lines. Since he was a truck driver, he had access to gasoline, which he shared with an Italian man named Leo. During the war, the Nazis took vehicles from the locals and every other thing they could get, as well. So, Leo placed his car in the basement of his home, blocking it into the basement where it couldn't be found. He had barrels in the basement where he would store fuel, when he could find it. He and Dad struck up a friendship and despite the language barrier, talking with their hands (which if you stereotype, Italians do talk with hand gestures) Dad was able to supply Leo with "extra" gasoline he didn't need.
As a result of this friendship and international good will, Leo made a wood carving of a blacksmith and gave it to my Dad. He carried that carving back home to the U.S. as a cherished reminder of his friend, Leo. I have that statue now and it means so much to me to know what effort Dad went to in order to pass this on.
I plan to give this to a museum in Rochester Hills one day along with Dad's medals as a part of the skiing exhibit. I don't want my Dad's things to end up on Ebay!
Sure miss you Dad.
Thinking about Dad today, I remembered one of his stories he told from his tour in Italy during WWII. He drove truck and carried ammunition to the front lines. Since he was a truck driver, he had access to gasoline, which he shared with an Italian man named Leo. During the war, the Nazis took vehicles from the locals and every other thing they could get, as well. So, Leo placed his car in the basement of his home, blocking it into the basement where it couldn't be found. He had barrels in the basement where he would store fuel, when he could find it. He and Dad struck up a friendship and despite the language barrier, talking with their hands (which if you stereotype, Italians do talk with hand gestures) Dad was able to supply Leo with "extra" gasoline he didn't need.
As a result of this friendship and international good will, Leo made a wood carving of a blacksmith and gave it to my Dad. He carried that carving back home to the U.S. as a cherished reminder of his friend, Leo. I have that statue now and it means so much to me to know what effort Dad went to in order to pass this on.
I plan to give this to a museum in Rochester Hills one day along with Dad's medals as a part of the skiing exhibit. I don't want my Dad's things to end up on Ebay!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
My rant, so there...
If you didn't raise an eyebrow at the latest information pertaining to the use of the mammogram...you had better! I was watching Good Morning America this morning and the government is now questioning the use of mammography for those women under the age of 50 !!! I don't know about you, but I know of women under the age of 50 who have had breast cancer and if it had not been for the use of this diagnostic testing procedure, they would not be with us today.
The excuse is that there is the possibility of side effects from using the mammogram each year, which was the earlier recommendation for those at higher than normal risk. Well heck, I'd rather take that chance than not find out about breast cancer until it was too late for any treatment.
With the trend toward government control of the health care system, is this the beginning of selection ?
This also reminds me, I don't qualify for the H1N1 flu vaccine ! That's because I'm not considered "at risk" and I'm not old enough...and so on. But hey, I don't want the damn thing anyway, it's not been proven effective.
It you don't think this might be "only the beginning", you might want to reconsider.
That's my rant for today...don't get me started.
The excuse is that there is the possibility of side effects from using the mammogram each year, which was the earlier recommendation for those at higher than normal risk. Well heck, I'd rather take that chance than not find out about breast cancer until it was too late for any treatment.
With the trend toward government control of the health care system, is this the beginning of selection ?
This also reminds me, I don't qualify for the H1N1 flu vaccine ! That's because I'm not considered "at risk" and I'm not old enough...and so on. But hey, I don't want the damn thing anyway, it's not been proven effective.
It you don't think this might be "only the beginning", you might want to reconsider.
That's my rant for today...don't get me started.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Dad made me do it
Her name is Olivia. She is 8.5 weeks old and a rescue from Pet Friendz in Caro. She is a miniature pinscher chihuahua mix, no bigger than a minute. Even our smallest cat, now appears like Hulk Hogan.
It all began not long after Dad passed away, I kept feeling as though I was compelled to have a dog. My Dad always loved his dogs. There was "Fat Jessie", "Ruby Begonia" and most recently, the stray elderly, "Jake Russell".
For fun, I looked on the pet finder site and found this little girl. I just kept going back to her. Next thing I knew, we were filling out the application for adoption. Again, it was as though my Dad was there directing this entire show.
She's now part of our family.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thank you James L.
A finer tribute to my father could not have been written and I am so very grateful to Jim of L-Town.
My former father-in-law, Walter "Walt" Brown, died Saturday at home in Addison Township. He was 92.During the time I was married to his daughter, Susan, Walt and I spent many hours together. Because I worked nights in Flint, my days were free and Walt loved to cut wood, do projects around his and our house and generally kept himself busy. It was my joy and honor to spend all those many hours with him outdoors.I learned more from Walt in those few years about wood working, tree-cutting, cement mixing, roofing and life than pretty much the sum total of all my years in school. He was a reservoir of common sense in a world where it is very scarce. There's a morning room built on to the back of my house today that is a testament to what I learned from Walt about carpentry and roofing.Like all three of my father-in-laws, my father and stepfather, he was a survivor of the Depression and World War II. For Walt the Depression was the defining time of his life. He was a believer in not paying for something unless you could pay cash for it and he conserved energy by burning the wood available to him for free.He taught me the importance of checking the wind before falling a tall tree and the ins-and-outs of a chain saw. He taught me that sharp was safer than dull and that you always "measure twice and cut once." He taught me that a man was judged by the neatness of his woodpile.Walt also taught me that there was no such thing as a mistake, but just "errors." He also told me that a good spoken "sonofabitch" would fix most carpentry problems. Well, that and a well timed and aimed hammer stroke.If he spoke the word "politician" it came out sounding like a curse word. He had no use for those who couldn't relate to people who worked hard and broke a sweat to make a living.He built Susan's house with his own hands, each nail lovingly driven in by himself. Once after the house was more than 10 years old, we called after one of the windows fogged up during the window. The call was made not to ask him to fix it, but just in passing the time of day.About 1/2-hour later (this was about 8 p.m. at night) we heard Walt's truck pull into the driveway and he emerged with his toolbox and came into the house and fixed the air leak that caused the fogging.Walt joked that not many builders would come back and fix the house they built ten years after it was finished. But then not many builders were Walt.At one time he worked for Mrs. Wilson of Dodge-Wilson at the Meadowbrook Mansion in Rochester Hills. it is now a tourist attraction but he remembered the days that Mrs. Dodge-Wilson would call out for "Walter" to fix this or that.During the time I knew him he was only rarely without his beloved retriever by his side. That dog followed him everywhere and it was rough when I had to ride in his truck to a woodlot because Jesse didn't like sharing the front seat with anyone but Walt.He and his dog shared his lunch and his love. I've never met a man with a closer touch to nature than Walt. He loved animals. He had the rare ability to coax a wild chipmunk into his hand the first time he saw it.But he also loved to hunt deer. Although it was more about the sitting in nature than it was in the taking of the deer. I recalled this story recently about one of Walt's hunting "trips."Susan and I lived on 7-8 acres in Oxford Township. The back lot was a stand of pine trees - all planted by Susan and Walt, by the way - and when they were mature enough he would make a deer blind in the back and during hunting season it was not uncommon to hear his military truck pull into our driveway and head back to the woods about 5 a.m.While Susan was at work during the day I usually did chores around the property, but when I knew Walt was back "hunting" I stayed up near the house so as not to spook the deer.One day, I was watching out our back picture window when I saw a big 10 to 12-point buck that Walt had been eyeing for months, walk to the pile of corn and apples in the back lot. I watched for several minutes waiting for the inevitable blast that would take down this prize buck. It never came.A little while later I heard the truck driving up the path next to our horse pasture and met Walt in the driveway as he headed home for lunch."Why didn't you shoot that buck?," I asked him"Please don't tell me the buck was there, I fell asleep for a while," Walt said. We both had a good laugh about the 'one that got away.'Like so many of his kind, Walt is in that disappearing group of heroes from World War II. During his youth around Rochester, Walt made a name for himself ski jumping and he had the newspaper clips to prove it.When World War II came those skills were in demand in the Army's 10th Mountain Division, which Walt proudly served both in Europe and the Pacific. He came home and never left after the war. He was married to his childhood sweetheart, Eva, for 68 years. She used to kid that he loved his dog and spent more time with it than her, but she was wrong.You can read the whole obituary here. There's a nice photo of Walt there as well.He once told me a story about a German soldier that was shot in the heel someplace in Italy and when they approached him with guns drawn the German spoke in good English, "don't shoot, I'm from Detroit."In recent years he made one of the "Honor Flights" to visit the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C., one of the very rare times he left his home.There are many great stories he told that would fail in my telling here because they were good because of the way he told them.Walt, you will be missed.
posted by Jim of L-Town at 7:13 AM on Oct 29, 2009
My former father-in-law, Walter "Walt" Brown, died Saturday at home in Addison Township. He was 92.During the time I was married to his daughter, Susan, Walt and I spent many hours together. Because I worked nights in Flint, my days were free and Walt loved to cut wood, do projects around his and our house and generally kept himself busy. It was my joy and honor to spend all those many hours with him outdoors.I learned more from Walt in those few years about wood working, tree-cutting, cement mixing, roofing and life than pretty much the sum total of all my years in school. He was a reservoir of common sense in a world where it is very scarce. There's a morning room built on to the back of my house today that is a testament to what I learned from Walt about carpentry and roofing.Like all three of my father-in-laws, my father and stepfather, he was a survivor of the Depression and World War II. For Walt the Depression was the defining time of his life. He was a believer in not paying for something unless you could pay cash for it and he conserved energy by burning the wood available to him for free.He taught me the importance of checking the wind before falling a tall tree and the ins-and-outs of a chain saw. He taught me that sharp was safer than dull and that you always "measure twice and cut once." He taught me that a man was judged by the neatness of his woodpile.Walt also taught me that there was no such thing as a mistake, but just "errors." He also told me that a good spoken "sonofabitch" would fix most carpentry problems. Well, that and a well timed and aimed hammer stroke.If he spoke the word "politician" it came out sounding like a curse word. He had no use for those who couldn't relate to people who worked hard and broke a sweat to make a living.He built Susan's house with his own hands, each nail lovingly driven in by himself. Once after the house was more than 10 years old, we called after one of the windows fogged up during the window. The call was made not to ask him to fix it, but just in passing the time of day.About 1/2-hour later (this was about 8 p.m. at night) we heard Walt's truck pull into the driveway and he emerged with his toolbox and came into the house and fixed the air leak that caused the fogging.Walt joked that not many builders would come back and fix the house they built ten years after it was finished. But then not many builders were Walt.At one time he worked for Mrs. Wilson of Dodge-Wilson at the Meadowbrook Mansion in Rochester Hills. it is now a tourist attraction but he remembered the days that Mrs. Dodge-Wilson would call out for "Walter" to fix this or that.During the time I knew him he was only rarely without his beloved retriever by his side. That dog followed him everywhere and it was rough when I had to ride in his truck to a woodlot because Jesse didn't like sharing the front seat with anyone but Walt.He and his dog shared his lunch and his love. I've never met a man with a closer touch to nature than Walt. He loved animals. He had the rare ability to coax a wild chipmunk into his hand the first time he saw it.But he also loved to hunt deer. Although it was more about the sitting in nature than it was in the taking of the deer. I recalled this story recently about one of Walt's hunting "trips."Susan and I lived on 7-8 acres in Oxford Township. The back lot was a stand of pine trees - all planted by Susan and Walt, by the way - and when they were mature enough he would make a deer blind in the back and during hunting season it was not uncommon to hear his military truck pull into our driveway and head back to the woods about 5 a.m.While Susan was at work during the day I usually did chores around the property, but when I knew Walt was back "hunting" I stayed up near the house so as not to spook the deer.One day, I was watching out our back picture window when I saw a big 10 to 12-point buck that Walt had been eyeing for months, walk to the pile of corn and apples in the back lot. I watched for several minutes waiting for the inevitable blast that would take down this prize buck. It never came.A little while later I heard the truck driving up the path next to our horse pasture and met Walt in the driveway as he headed home for lunch."Why didn't you shoot that buck?," I asked him"Please don't tell me the buck was there, I fell asleep for a while," Walt said. We both had a good laugh about the 'one that got away.'Like so many of his kind, Walt is in that disappearing group of heroes from World War II. During his youth around Rochester, Walt made a name for himself ski jumping and he had the newspaper clips to prove it.When World War II came those skills were in demand in the Army's 10th Mountain Division, which Walt proudly served both in Europe and the Pacific. He came home and never left after the war. He was married to his childhood sweetheart, Eva, for 68 years. She used to kid that he loved his dog and spent more time with it than her, but she was wrong.You can read the whole obituary here. There's a nice photo of Walt there as well.He once told me a story about a German soldier that was shot in the heel someplace in Italy and when they approached him with guns drawn the German spoke in good English, "don't shoot, I'm from Detroit."In recent years he made one of the "Honor Flights" to visit the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C., one of the very rare times he left his home.There are many great stories he told that would fail in my telling here because they were good because of the way he told them.Walt, you will be missed.
posted by Jim of L-Town at 7:13 AM on Oct 29, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Dad is gone
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Byron is with me forever
Today, October 20, 2009, is the one year anniversary of Byron's death. I miss him so much. The sorrow never fades, but my wonderful memories of Byron will live on forever.I tend his grave as though it were my own. In some ways, a piece of me was buried that morning with Byron.
Often when I am in the barn, I see the white plastic bags of bedding stacked in his stall and see him instead. Visions of him running out of the corner of my eye catch me daydreaming and smiling at the wonder of his antics.
I miss the smell of his skin when I would press my nose against his neck...it was sweet. He and I had a very special bond.
After much thought, I wanted to have him with me always, so why not a tattoo. He is there on my left leg. The same leg that ultimately cost Byron. The shooting star is significant of the only registered marking listed on his papers. His true name was Nebula , like the stars! He was and will always be my star.
Monday, October 19, 2009
A Poem for Byron
Don't cry for the horses
that life has set free
A million white horses
forever to be
Don't cry for the horses
now in God's hands
As they dance and they prance
to a heavenly band
They were ours as a gift
but never to keep
As they close their eyes
forever to sleep
Their spirits unbound
on silver wings they fly
A million white horses
against the blue sky
Look up into the heaven
you'll see them above
The horses we lost
The horses we loved
Manes and tails flowing
they gallop through time
They were never yours
They were never mine
Don't cry for the horses
they'll be back someday
when our time has come
they will show us the way
Do you hear that soft nicker
close to your ear?
Don't cry for the horses
Love the one that are here.
(I wish I had written this poem, as it
is fitting for Byron)
that life has set free
A million white horses
forever to be
Don't cry for the horses
now in God's hands
As they dance and they prance
to a heavenly band
They were ours as a gift
but never to keep
As they close their eyes
forever to sleep
Their spirits unbound
on silver wings they fly
A million white horses
against the blue sky
Look up into the heaven
you'll see them above
The horses we lost
The horses we loved
Manes and tails flowing
they gallop through time
They were never yours
They were never mine
Don't cry for the horses
they'll be back someday
when our time has come
they will show us the way
Do you hear that soft nicker
close to your ear?
Don't cry for the horses
Love the one that are here.
(I wish I had written this poem, as it
is fitting for Byron)
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Tomorrow
Dad has been in the hospital since friday with some lower abdominal pain. His color was yellowish and the doctors were testing him for liver related problems. We have eliminated hepititus, which I thought was a bit weird, since we couldn't figure out how he might have contracted it. They eliminated gall bladder and apendix problems too.
The doctor suspects cancer, but we will know more tomorrow.
I'm scared, I love my dad and I don't want him to suffer with cancer. We always imagined that he would be cutting wood and drop from a heart attack...which his brother did at 85 years of age.
Whatever the test results reveal, we will deal with it and keep our faith.
It has been a long day...
The doctor suspects cancer, but we will know more tomorrow.
I'm scared, I love my dad and I don't want him to suffer with cancer. We always imagined that he would be cutting wood and drop from a heart attack...which his brother did at 85 years of age.
Whatever the test results reveal, we will deal with it and keep our faith.
It has been a long day...
Thursday, October 8, 2009
It came from his stash
While driving home from the airport today, I heard a revelation on the radio. A woman was interviewed at Cobo Center, while she stood in line for an application to receive stimulus money from the government. The interviewer was Ken Rogalski of WJR Radio and the interview went like this:
KR: Why are you here?
W oman: To get some money.
KR: What kind of money?
Woman: Obama money!
KR: Where's it coming from?
Woman: Obama.
KR: Where did Obama get it?
Woman: I don't know, his stash, I don't know...
I don't know where he got it from,but
he givin it to us, to help us
2nd Woman: We love him.
Woman: We love him, that's why we voted from him...
Both are chanting: Obama, Obama...
Yikes ! This woman has no clue that the money she is about to apply for as "Obama Money" is OUR money. This is the money you and I have worked for that Obama is handing out to these sad, ignorant, uninformed voters! What better audience could Obama have? These people think
he has come to their rescue. How sad this is, that people would actually think the money comes from Obama and do not have a clue that it's the money us working folks have made and are now giving up! God help us. How can people be this stupid. This interview gained national attention for the City of Detroit...isn't that special?
KR: Why are you here?
W oman: To get some money.
KR: What kind of money?
Woman: Obama money!
KR: Where's it coming from?
Woman: Obama.
KR: Where did Obama get it?
Woman: I don't know, his stash, I don't know...
I don't know where he got it from,but
he givin it to us, to help us
2nd Woman: We love him.
Woman: We love him, that's why we voted from him...
Both are chanting: Obama, Obama...
Yikes ! This woman has no clue that the money she is about to apply for as "Obama Money" is OUR money. This is the money you and I have worked for that Obama is handing out to these sad, ignorant, uninformed voters! What better audience could Obama have? These people think
he has come to their rescue. How sad this is, that people would actually think the money comes from Obama and do not have a clue that it's the money us working folks have made and are now giving up! God help us. How can people be this stupid. This interview gained national attention for the City of Detroit...isn't that special?
Friday, October 2, 2009
Susan in Glendale
Susan in Glendale, California had passion, almost to tears while speaking with Rush Limbaugh, September 30, 2009. Speaking without any interruption, without a teleprompter, or notes, she made such an impact on those who listened. Rush's E-mail lit up with phrase for this woman.Take 23:40 and give her a listen at Rushlimbaugh.com.
Susan speaks for many of us out there who feel this country is heading in the wrong direction.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Leave a Note
The woman driving a Toyota Tundra extended cab pick-up truck backed into her brand new car. We watched as the driver of the truck struggled trying to back into the parking space. Silly, since there were several other slots with easier access in the lot. Oh, but they were further away from the building.
As she jockeys the vehicle around, actually using both of her mirrors, we heard a "bump". Yep, she backed up until she hit the vehicle behind her, then moved up away from it as though nothing happened. She got out of the truck, never even looking to see if the impact from her truck had caused any damage to the other vehicle, and walked away.
I wanted to say something and bring this incident to the woman's attention ( in a subtle manner, of course) , but the little voice said, "check it out first". Yep, the Toyota Tundra's trailer hitch extension had made a crease in the plastic bumper of the new smaller Chrysler SUV. We left a note.
Upon returning hoome, we found a message on the answering machine from the owner of the new small Chrysler SUV. Her name was Sheryl and she left us the nicest message one could imagine, complete with blessings! Such a nice message, with such kind thoughts for us, I couldn't help but share this in my blog. I hope she has good luck with the car repairs and I can't thank her enough for making my day. :-D
As she jockeys the vehicle around, actually using both of her mirrors, we heard a "bump". Yep, she backed up until she hit the vehicle behind her, then moved up away from it as though nothing happened. She got out of the truck, never even looking to see if the impact from her truck had caused any damage to the other vehicle, and walked away.
I wanted to say something and bring this incident to the woman's attention ( in a subtle manner, of course) , but the little voice said, "check it out first". Yep, the Toyota Tundra's trailer hitch extension had made a crease in the plastic bumper of the new smaller Chrysler SUV. We left a note.
Upon returning hoome, we found a message on the answering machine from the owner of the new small Chrysler SUV. Her name was Sheryl and she left us the nicest message one could imagine, complete with blessings! Such a nice message, with such kind thoughts for us, I couldn't help but share this in my blog. I hope she has good luck with the car repairs and I can't thank her enough for making my day. :-D
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Harvey's on his ride!
Flint Street was lined with over 100 Harley Davidson motorcycles from the Lapeer and Shiawassee H.O.G. Chapters. Sparks Griffin Funeral Home was standing room only for our beloved Harvey Gauthier. Black leather vests proudly displaying the H.O.G. Chapter patch could be seen from every viewpoint.
As the service ended with eulogies by Past H.O.G President, Mike Plaza and President, Jim Bailey, the roar of "THUNDER FROM THE THUMB" began its echo throughout the downtown area. The pealing of the church bells could be heard between the pops of loud pipes as they rumbled for Harvey. Rolling on the throttle was our way of starting Harvey on his ride with the angels.
As the service ended with eulogies by Past H.O.G President, Mike Plaza and President, Jim Bailey, the roar of "THUNDER FROM THE THUMB" began its echo throughout the downtown area. The pealing of the church bells could be heard between the pops of loud pipes as they rumbled for Harvey. Rolling on the throttle was our way of starting Harvey on his ride with the angels.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Harvey, we miss you!
Harvey J. Gauthier was killed Monday, September, 21 at approximately 16:30 hours while riding his Harley Davidson near Cincinnati, Ohio. He was riding with two other motorcycles, when he apparently struck a tow truck stopped in the left side emergency lane. According to investigators, the tow truck was partially in the high-speed lane of I-71/75 when it was struck.
Harvey was thrown from his motorcycle and struck by another vehicle. No one else was injured in the accident.
The long time member of the Harley Owners Group, Lapeer Chapter, was a fixture in the H.O.G. community. Always a smile, hugs or handshakes came from Harvey. His loss will be felt by this member of the H.O.G. community for a very long time.
Harvey, may you ride with God...we love you!!!
Harvey was thrown from his motorcycle and struck by another vehicle. No one else was injured in the accident.
The long time member of the Harley Owners Group, Lapeer Chapter, was a fixture in the H.O.G. community. Always a smile, hugs or handshakes came from Harvey. His loss will be felt by this member of the H.O.G. community for a very long time.
Harvey, may you ride with God...we love you!!!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Wassup now, kitten killer?
Ty-Shawn Eric Bost is the accused tough thug that murdered Ruby in her Roseville home. He admitted killing the kitten because, "it was bothering me," police said. Wait until this thug gets out of jail, fathers a few children and the children "bother" him. Will he put them in the microwave oven?The article in the Detroit News indicated that Bost did not know the family he "allegedly" (oh please) victimized, yet it's difficult to believe it was random. Perhaps my having been retired for a number of years makes me a bit rusty, but call it a gut feeling.
The police have not revealed how they linked Bost to the crime yet, but I'm thankful for the help the police received and that Bost is off the street. Hats off to the Macomb County Prosecutor's Office for issuing warrants in this case.
It would be great if William "Cat"aldo, Chief of Homicide, Macomb County Prosecutor's Office could handle the case!
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Sick Bastards
The Roseville home of the Ross family was burglarized and Ruby, their 6 month old kitten, was murdered. The theives ransacked the home and then placed the kitten in the washer and turned it on, leaving the kitten to drown. Apparenlty, the machine was still spinning when the mother and her 13 year old daughter returned home and the kitten was found.Items stolen from the home included video "stuff", jewelry and small items easy to carry and conceal.
The fact that a 13 year old lives in the home might just direct your attention to persons of interest acquainted with the daughter. Not necessarily friends of hers, but certainly anyone who has been in the home previously, lives close by or attends the same school. The term "random" doesn't seem to fit, if what has been in the news is factual.
Let's hope these sick bastards (yes, there was more than one) are caught.
Anyone who is able to do such a thing to a helpless animal will eventually occupy a prison cell. It has been proven time after time that persons who end up in our prison system for violent crime, begin with attacks on the helpless amoung us...animals.
God Bless You little Ruby kitten.
Friday, September 11, 2009
I LOVE ERNIE
Ernie Harwell will always be the "voice" of the Detroit Tiiiiiiiiiigers! He is 91 years young, but now is battling an incurable cancerous tumor in the bile duct. Wow, I love this guy. He walks the walk and talks the talk of a true man of faith.
A couple years ago, Tom & I went to see Ernie at the Oakland County Complex, where he was speaking. He even autographed a picture for my mother. It read, "To Eva, With Love, Ernie". The picture is proudly displayed on the shelf in the dining room. I'm always careful when I refer to him as Mother's boyfriend...it makes her blush.
May God bless you , Ernie.
I'm working on a picture of Derrick Jeter. Although not a Tiger, he's Mother's favorite player.
Haunting Silence
Yes, I remember where I was on 9/11, just like recalling where I was when J.F.K. was assassinated. On 9/11, i was in my car on my way to the gym at Brandon High School to work out with my friends. Dick Purtan was on the radio and I thought when I turned in on, "Big Al" was in the midst of a skit. He said something about a plane crashing and I realized this was no joke.The loss of life and the heroes born all in a few moments of time.
It was so hauntingly quiet on the farm, as no airplanes were flying and traffic was all but stopped. The horses even sensed the change in the air, it was very scary. We were just waiting to see what was next. The U.S.A. was vulnerable and a high price was paid that day. Never forget!
Monday, September 7, 2009
The Wedding
The date, September 5th is now an even more significant day in our family. Not just that it is MY birthday, but now it will also serve as the wedding anniversary date for the new Mr. and Mrs. Austin Lee. My husband's youngest daughter, Kara, was a stunning bride, as Austin was the handsome groom.Can't wait to see the wedding pictures and video.
The kids are off to Hawaii for a honeymoon and some relaxing before returning to their home in California. May they enjoy many years of love, health and happiness.
Monday, August 31, 2009
MGM Puddy
Metro Goldwyn Mayer had several different lions throughout the studio history. The first was "Slats", who graced the original logo designed by Howard Dietz from 1916-1924. (That may be that same Howard Dietz who designed carousel animals.)
Since that time, five lions have represented the MGM studio. The last was a lion named Leo. His roar is still heard today!
Each time we watch an MGM production and see that wonderful lion and hear his roar, I can't help but think of our old cat, Y.C. (Yellow Cat). With the roar of a lion, he could beg with the best for any type of food. He was the man of the house, king of the beasts, man in charge of everything when it came to his "Puddy-dom". He wandered into our lives from the south fence row and graced our home for 20+ years. Although he's gone, he still continues to make his presence known when I find that occasional Puddy hair. He was our MGM lion.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Am I too old for softball...
Finally I found an "over 50" ladies softball team. Woohoo, we won a couple of games and it's great meeting new friends and playing again. During the serving & protecting playing much wasn't really an option. One injury might have put the job at risk, but now, I'm back!
Today I practiced with my husband and now I have the ball seam impression on my chin and a swollen left knee! (The knee with the new ACL) Nothing that some ice and a few episodes of N.C.I.S. won't cure!
After Labor Day pick-up games with the "over 50" guys are going to help our ladies team keep that edge of the fine tuned machine (?).
Friday, August 28, 2009
First Cat
He just appeared on the shelf in the garage. A small gray and yellow cat looking very frightened, as though someone had just dropped him off.The next day, we were on our way to the veterinarian for a check-up. Since he didn't have a name for registration, Dr. Mike, just decided to call him "Toes", due to a couple extra digits.
Once we got rid of the dirt, our little yellow and white cat had a new home.
Toes became a fixture, transferring my position as homeowner to staff, plain and simple. Rattling the cupboard announcing his food demands, only to enhance his physique with each mouthful. I never knew that a cat could have a dust ruffle for a stomach, sweeping the floor as he walked.
Each Christmas, Toes would squeeze himself in the middle of a pine cone wreath, just daring me to try and hang the thing. The wreath became the December bed for Toes-master.
Our beloved cat lived for 12 years, only to develop an inoperable tumor. Sadly, he died in my arms and now rests "out back" in the cemetery with Chester, the goat.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
A children's book?
This is "Bob", he's a whistlepig, marmot, groundhog and even some would call him a pest. He wants to be the subject of my dreams...a children's book.A kind little man, he's spoiled with peanuts and has his very own burrow in the barn. If you are not careful, he might just take hold of a finger and guide you to his burronw, like Alice in Wonderland. I'm too big to fit, but I can only imagine what life might be like for Bob in his burrow. I need to give that some thought.
Animal stories from this little farm are many and create the best of memories.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The Man in the Mirror
In 1977, Byron (keft) was shown at the Michigan State Fairgrounds as a registered Half-Arab by his owner, Kelly. His first show. Kelly was kind enough to respond to my letter, which was a stab in the dark, and provide pictures him in his youth. The second picture, in all of his greyness, was taken in 1987 at his first carriage driving show at the Bloomfield Open Hunt Club. Two blue ribbons in his first two classes!
Mary Jo
Ted Kennedy was responsible for the death of Mary Jo Kopechne forty years ago at Chappaquiddick. May she now rest in peace.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Missing Byron
The past few days have brought back many memories of my cherished horse, Byron. I've been cleaning an untidy barn and have come across many horsie items belonging to my dearest friend. Those lost leg wraps, a driving bit and a couple extra brushes misplaced over the years. Even a "cigar" or two on the floor in his stall... the cigar is that matted grass that old guys chew and it eventually falls out of their mouth to the ground...looks like a cigar. Although the barn is a cleaner place, it will neer be what it once was without Byron.
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