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 |  Mulling, culling, and musing the confusing... in Blog format. |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I stand in awe of life's predisposition for imploding, swiftly morphing into a churning, perilous vortex that mankind is hard-pressed to navigate, let alone survive. Maintaining a foothold and emerging from the gales unscathed seems wholly contingent upon survivors' personal philosophies, capacity for tolerance, and coping skills. Without these, the vortex becomes the portal to a toxic black void, and man stands naked in the spiralling eddy, awaiting the final flush.** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Monsters Evil incarnate to their kind gives rise, their nourishment found in blood-curdling fear; horror-swept dreamscapes they stalk in disguise, unleashing terror, they draw ever near. Defiled wombs in hell to their kind give birth to seek symbiosis with souls in need; in lost and rejected spirits on earth ~ on their very marrow, such monsters feed. Iced are their fingers and vacant, their stare, black are their hearts, sustained by putrid breath; sucking the lifeblood imperilled souls share to spew forth their spawn of hatred and death. But they may not linger where Faith abides... for Hope's children fear not their raging tides. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The mission of this journal is to examine life issues that precipitate the storms and seek out the balms that soothe the wounds they inflict. It is my fervent hope that philosophically autopsying life issue outcomes will provide comfort in the midst of chaos and a keenly longed-for measure of inner peace. Bear in mind, dear Reader, that the thoughts to follow are only musings and by no means assertions of right or wrong. They are but a reflection of one soul's yearning to ascend from the roots of life to its flowering branches and taste of the fruits found therein. How, if at all, savory their flavors are deemed to be and whether or not they become a staple in one's spiritual diet is left to each reader's own palate. The journey thus begins...
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Having made my list and checked it twice, I can report that the endeavors took up a minimal amount of time, because my "WDC Christmas Wish Above All Other Wishes" is simply this: I'd like you, my friends who read my Blog and therefore know more of me than any other souls on earth ~ including my own Mother ~ to collectively grant me this wish, if at all possible... Please visit the C-Note Shoppe I've provided a link for below, where the selections are each priced at 250 GP's (which is what WDC charges for processing C-notes when they are sent). Kick back, sip a soothing beverage, maybe have a little snack, smoke 'em if ya got 'em, and take a few moments, in the spirit of the Holidays, to read with an open heart ~ and accord whatever thoughts come to mind sincere contemplation. Take a deep breath, banish the past's cobwebs and dust bunnies, relax, reflect, and truly sift the wheat from the chaff. Then, if so moved, consider perhaps sending one of the C-Notes to whoever, if anyone, comes to mind. Though I'm paraphrasing AND re-stating here, 'It's better to love and take a chance... than not to love at all.' And that's my WDC Christmas Wish of Wishes. I dearly love and am so very grateful to each of you, my wondrous WDC friends... more than you could ever know!  Happy Holidays and may God bless and keep us together, every one!
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My wittle triplet Virtual Daughter, Mary Lou Who of Who-ville, completed my 'Robert Frostian Mad-Lib', linked below in yesterday's Blog post, and came up with the following 'Chronicles of Mafia'. The woman is BRILLIANT, I tell you... consciously AND subliminally! The Freudian over- , under- , and shaken-thoroughly-but-NOT-stirred- tones are at once compelling and somehow.... vaguely and intriguingly twitterpating.  The masterfully evident, full-bodied, Carmen Electra- and Oedipus Rex Complexes deftly sprinkled all OVER this piece add appreciably more more piquancy to an already immensely rich, yet fat-free blend ! The piece climaxes crescendos in a powerfully insightful, X-rated thought-provoking, frenzy-paced fury of erotic finality. * the crowd ROARS !!! *I mean, can this child pen an Epic Poem For The Ages or WHAT??? ... [insert standing ovation here] Note: An extremely few, VERY negligible editorial modifications have been made to the below Masterpiece in order to facilitate a tighter "fit" of the immensely gifted Ms. Who's skillfully chosen words and literary hues. (We all know that Mary Lou thoroughly appreciates a tight fit...   .) " Stopping by Kalamazoo on a Snowy, Industrial-Strength Eggnoged Afternoon " "And mail boxes to sneeze before I sleep, Whose corsets these are I think I know. His lemon is in the outhouse, though; He will not see me loathing here To watch his dog house fill up with snow. My little penguin must smirk it queer To scowl without a dish near Between the temple and scalding lake The darkest soothes of the year. He gives his luscious grape a shake To emasculate if there is some mistake. The only other teddy bear the sweep Of easy ideals and downy flake. The woods are horny, asthmatic, and deep, But I have fire escapes to keep, And mail boxes to sneeze before I sleep, And rubbers to go before I sleep. And rubbers to go before I sleep." .............. Poetry, I tell you ~ sheer POETRY !!!  Are you not awed and utterly humbled by this reading experience? Are you not magically transported at least 30 or so clicks past 'balanced' by it's captivating essence? Are you not touched deep within the most hidden regions of your innie- or outie- umbilicus? Are there no Workhouses? Are there no Prisons? (Forgive the purloined liberty, Chuck ~ ya little Dickens...  )ANYwho... KUDOS, Who !!!  |
I finally ventured into the WDC World of Mad-libs last evening, and came up with the following, Holiday MASTERPIECE as a result of The StoryMistress  's below listed Mad-lib Activity. Then, of course, I promptly caught "Mad-lib Fever", and created a Holiday/Winter-themed Mad-lib of my own (humbly begging your pardon for having taken such liberty with one your crown jewels, Mr. Robert Frost... .)'Twas the night before Martin Luther King Day and all through the broom closet, not a dinosaur was stirring, not even a duck-billed platypus. The children were twitterpated all snug in their fainting couch, while visions of twinkies revolved in their umbilical cords. When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my black hole to see what was the matter. I knew in a keyhole it must be Saint Kelly, with his miniature Ford Tempo and 4 tiny monkeys named Dasher, Kittiara, Deelyte, and Mary Lou. He filled all our baptismal fonts, then laying his great toe aside of his ear lobe, up the chimney he labored. But I heard him exclaim as he careened out of sight, "A splendiferous Christmas to all, and to all a non-commital night ! "
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| It does not sadden me at all to think about you, Megan Kathleen... especially at this most holy and blessed time of the year. Instead, it warms and comforts me, through and through... and wholly nourishes my soul. Merry Christmas, my precious Angel. I hold you close in my heart of hearts for now... and someday will once more cradle you to my breast... ~ Mama ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Resting in a hallowed space within a special room, an empty cradle holds a place in shadows and the gloom. I come here when I have the need to let my thoughts flow free... through the mists of time and deed to when you dwelt in me. Precious little one of mine, you now wait up above ~ borne in angels' arms divine and basking in their love. How I longed to hold you, croon, and nurture you along, until you'd grown into full bloom, both self assured and strong. To feel you suckling at my breast and listen to your coo ~ sit vigilant through fevered rest to soothe and comfort you. Or watch you in your cradle sleep, safe and loved and warm, nestled in and dreaming deep, a woman yet unformed. Beloved babe, you saw me not, and yet I loved you so... throughout my life ~ across each thought ~ your tiny footprints go. From the moment I was told you slumbered deep inside, you drew me back into life's fold and would not be denied. Within me though the doctors warned you surely could not live, you waged a battle to be born beyond the time they'd give. And we shared secrets from the start, my little unborn one, of your world deep within my heart and my world in the sun. You filled my depths with joy untold and love beyond all measure... defying odds, your movements bold, your every leap a treasure. And though the days God granted you were few and quickly passing, it was as if you knew this, too, and spent them free and laughing. In that fleeting span of time you taught me much and well... of joy and sorrow ~ yours and mine ~ of Heaven and of hell. But when you'd finished, tiny one, shining here on earth, your heartlight flickered and was done ~ and there would be no birth. When your dear spirit left this life, the void you left behind enshrouded me and blocked all light and happiness in kind. Were it not for thoughts of you and joining you someday, the chasm of my sorrow true is where my heart would stay. This empty cradle meant for you would sear too deep to heal... had I not the hope I do that's lasting and so real ~ a hope that springs from deep within where you once lived in me, that I will go where you have been when earth's bonds set me free. Be safe, my child, in Heaven's care, and wait for me, I pray... 'til God sees fit to take me there, I'll live my life His way. Until the day when I last see the sun I told you of... and we live on again as one ~ at last made whole by love. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
HERE ARE SOME LINKS NEAR AND DEAR TO MY HEART... CHECK 'EM OUT !!!
http://www.pva.org/site/PageServer
HAVE F-U-N !!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ |
| A best girlfriend of mine became a police officer in another town than the town I eventually became one in, and I was just thinking back over some of the humorous capers the both of us became a part of / hapless victims in during our law enforcement careers. One of a plethora of them is this... At the time (I'll call her "Kathy") became the first female uniformed officer on her Department, I was a Dispatcher for the same agency. One blizzardy afternoon, we received an urgent call from a neighboring, sizable city, requesting that one of our units meet an approaching State Highway Patrol officer for the hand-off of a donated kidney, and then to complete a "hot" transport of the organ to our shared city limit borderline for a meet-up with one of the receiving city's uniformed patrol units. From there, that city's officers were to relay the organ, which had originated in a still larger metropolis in our state, on to the waiting hospital in their jurisdiction. Because of the storm at hand, we'd doubled up all our officers in their cruisers ~ "one to steer and one to push", we were fond of saying' when the snow got this deep. It so happened that Kathy and her partner (who I'll call "Hal") were assigned to the Zone most strategic for taking this emergency run, and so I dispatched them to handle the call. Kathy was riding "shotgun" and Hal was at the wheel. Not long thereafter, Kathy radioed in that they were at the meet site for the State Patrol, and a few minutes after that, she advised the "package" had been received and that her unit was now enroute to meet the receiving jurisdiction's cruiser. However, after their arrival at the borderline, a half an hour went by with no sign of the officers they were to waiting to meet up with. I found out by land line that their officers had slid off the highway into a ditch and were hopelessly mired in the snow there. Their Dispatcher had no idea when she would be able to get help to her own officers, let alone free up another of her units to come and meet mine. Upon advising Kathy of this, she requested permission to leave our jurisdiction long enough to deliver the "package" to the receiving hospital, which, after consultation with the Supervisor, was granted. I continued periodically conducting radio checks on their unit, and they continued replying, giving their locations as their life-saving relay slowly progressed. Approximately 70 minutes into what normally would have been a nine minute trip one-way, and just as I was preparing to check on them yet again, I heard Hal's voice come across the air, saying, "That's okay, Kathy ~ everybody likes to see a cop flop". Because of their distance from our tower, their transmissions were now very static-y and somewhat garbled, but I was certain those had been the words Hal's voice had transmitted. I radioed to their unit, " 306, do you have [radio] traffic?", and for several tense seconds thereafter, the airwaves remained silent as both I and our other mobile units awaited their reply. Finally, though very garbled, I heard Hal's weak transmission: " 306 is at the hospital, 300, and will be enroute back to our city in ten." I breathed a sigh of relief and asked that one of them give me a land line call before departing the hospital. It was during that phone call that I learned the story behind his previous and very peculiar transmission... Hal and Kathy had made their way through the blizzard to the receiving hospital, but not without having to pick their way through innumerable stranded motorists and emergent situational needs for detour. They finally got within four city blocks of the hospital, which was located in the heart of the downtown area of this particular city... and there they got stuck in a snarled, rush-hour traffic standstill. Knowing that the donated kidney had to be delivered within a given amount of time in order to remain viable for transplantation, Kathy told Hal, " I'll go ahead and run it into the hospital on foot, and while I'm delivering it, if you make it to the hospital, I'll meet you in the Emergency Room. If not, I'll hoof it back to the cruiser." Hal agreed to this, and Kathy put on her hat and gloves, grabbed the transport cooler, and set off at a dead run toward the hospital. She got approximately four car-lengths away from their cruiser, running alongside cars snarled in front of it, but hit a particular icy patch, slipped, fell... and slid, ass-over-applecart... completely off the sidewalk curb and under one of the stranded civilian cars. Hal, having witnessed the entire event, scrambled out of the unit and ran, slipping and falling himself several times, to the driver's side of the car he'd seen Kathy slide under, banged on the window, and instructed the driver, "no matter what, DO NOT take this car out of "Park" !!! The startled motorist voiced compliance, at which time Hal, who was a big, hulkin' feller anyway, slipped and slid his way over to the other side, got ahold of one of Kathy's protruding boot toes, and dragged her out from beneath the car, flat on her back, her eight-point hat all askew... still clutching the cooler with both gloved hands to her breast. The transmission I'd heard was the result of Hal's accidental keying of his remote as he bent over to help her back to her feet. Together, Hal and the scraped, bruised, tattered, torn, and sadly dishevelled Kathy walked their precious cargo into the hospital ~ where it did, indeed, make the timely, intimate, mutually beneficial, long-term acquaintance of its lucky and blessed new recipient. It's all good, Kathy... maybe everybody DOES like to see a cop flop... . But you got 'er done, gal ... you got 'er done good. |
Not that is's all that big a deal... what are they gonna do... demote me to paler shade of black ?  |
A certain Moderator seems to be monitoring my Portfolio with immense zeal... hmmmmmm... Ya just never never know ' bout those virtual fingerprints... |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ~ For Deelyte- Chillin'  , from her loving and beloved Motley... who lives on, now healthy and sporting wings ~ and will always remain at her side. |
This is Santa's brother, Ralph... ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** he sees you when you're showering. " SANTA'S BAD DAY " One particular Christmas season a long time ago, Santa was getting ready for is annual trip, but there were problems everywhere. Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule. Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her Mother was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more. When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where. More stress. Then when he began to load the sleigh one of the boards cracked, and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys. So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum. When he went to the cupboard, he discovered that the elves had hidden the liquor, and there was nothing to drink. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider pot, and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw end of the broom. Just then the doorbell rang, and irritable Santa trudged to the door. He opened the door, and there was a little angel with a great Christmas tree. The angel said, very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't it a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?" Thus began the tradition placing a the little angel atop of the Christmas tree. " WHY IS A CHRISTMAS TREE BETTER THAN A MAN ? " 1. A Christmas tree is always erect. 2. Even small ones give satisfaction. 3. A Christmas tree stays up for 12 days and nights. 4. A Christmas tree always looks good - even with the lights on. 5. A Christmas tree is always happy with its size. 6. A Christmas tree has cute balls. 7. A Christmas tree doesn't get mad if you break one of its balls. 8. You can throw a Christmas tree out when it's past its 'sell by' date. 9. You don't have to put up with a Christmas tree all year. " THE OFFICE CHRISTMAS PARTY " John, woke up after the annual office Christmas party with a pounding headache, cotton-mouthed and utterly unable to recall the events of the preceding evening. After a trip to the bathroom, he made his way downstairs, where his wife put some coffee in front of him. "Louise," he moaned, "tell me what happened last night. Was it as bad as I think?" "Even worse," she said, her voice oozing scorn. "You made a complete ass of yourself. You succeeded in antagonizing the entire board of directors and you insulted the president of the company, right to his face." "He's an asshole," John said. "Piss on him." "You did," came the reply. "And he fired you." "Well, screw him!" said John. "I did. You're back at work on Monday." |
| Below is the link to me and my lovely WDG triplet daughters, elfin' it up. Sure enough, Aunt Diva and Father Gallinago crashed the party with their over-nogged butts... their link is also below... ... http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1248278978 http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1248903740 Wanna go Elf yourself, a pet, or someone you love/hate??? You can for FREE and it's loads of fun!!! Just follow the blue brick link: http://www.elfyourself.com |
I swear... if I have to listen to ONE more snide remark about Bill Clinton's indiscretions with Monica Lewinski in the Oval Office, given the unchallenged and un-punished (or flat-out "pardoned") crimes that have unrelentingly been being perpetuated in the White House by King Gee-DUH-baya and his merry band of hooligans gangsters anal orifices "Administrators", I'm gonna, as Scrooge once so succinctly put it, " boil the utterer in their own pudding and bury them with a stake of holly through their heart ".  Compared to what's been going on under the Bush Administration for the past seven years, Clinton's blow-job makes about as much of a significant "blip" on the political and historical radar screen as a teddy bear tea party.Our latest emerging chapter in this ongoing, humiliating political saga is that the C.I.A., in 2005, destroyed all video of its Agents allegedly subjecting suspected terrorists to brutality/torture, inclusive of "water-boarding" (which is a pretty realistic simulation of drowning, if you happen to be on the non-interrogator end of it) during protracted "questioning" and "interrogation" sessions. The C.I.A. Powers That Be, of course, are already kiting their predictable, flotsom-laced "explanations", boiling down, for the most part, to: ' we were merely protecting the identity of our Agent interrogators... some of whom remain active operatives in Iraq '. Yeah, right, Boys... you fellas have no idea how to digitally obscure the Agents' faces and render their voices unrecognizable in order to protect the Agents' identities AND comply with the 9-11 Commission's lawful request to be granted access to any and ALL such evidence... and you also wanna sell us some swampland in Bumfucked, Egypt, correct? I mean, apparently deliberately leaking the identities of covert CIA Agents for purposes of political revenge ain't all THAT bad... Gee-DUH-bayah denounced Scooter Libbey's conviction and sentence ~ and PARDONED the li'l stinker ~ for his complicity in in the furtherance of doing just that... thereby deftly quashing any chance of revealing V.P. Dick ' Rambo ' Cheney's likely involvement in the nefarious caper, as well.  . The issue here is not even about whether or not such "interrogation techniques" are lawful and if so, under what circumstances... it's about " If you have no misdeeds/criminal activity to hide, don't HIDE anything, for crying out loud ! " Now you C.I.A. Bigwigs are claiming that your Agency notified Congressional and White House officials of your intent to destroy these evidentiary materials PRIOR to shredding/erasing/burning/over-exposing/whatevering them, implying that you therefore had their consent to do so... which all such Officials have thus far summarily denied. Furthermore, you disregarded/trampled all over the adamant advice of your own Chief Legal Counsel, Tom Russo, NOT to destroy these very tapes and evidence. Meanwhile, even the most myopic Citizen Magoo can see Dick Cheney's filthy fingerprints all OVER this entire mess. When will our Government EVER learn that when it screws up, be it intentionally or not, it is ALWAYS its seemingly mandated, obligatory ' Official Cover-Ups ' that resonate throughout history infinitely more loudly than the original misdeed(s), had it/they been honestly acknowledged, assumed responsibility for, and corrected, ever could or would have ever done. And why? Because being the victims/hapless witnesses to/unknowing recipients of fallout from these kinds of shady and often criminal Governmental capers is bad enough... but being collectively taken for complete and utterly stupid fools via bombardment with the lies and slights-of-hand by a Government that obviously wholehearted believes it can repeatedly and with impunity deceive us into swallowing the feces they're shoveling is what makes such instances live forever on in infamy. The 9-11 Commission is reportedly livid at the news of the destruction of this evidence... as should be the American public, in toto. In every Federal Code of Law book I've ever perused, they refer to this particular apparent conduct on the part of the C.I.A. as a blatant case of Obstruction of Justice. And in my neck of the woods, John Q. Citizen would be vigorously prosecuted, very likely soundly convicted, and imprisoned for quite some time for committing similar deeds, even at far lesser level of potentially wide-sweeping impact and/or significance. At the risk of sounding waaaaaaay too simplistic in these modern, technologically hurtling times, my advice to our elected officials and all of their orbiting enablers would be this: Knock it OFF, guys... it's gettin' to be a real pain in the keister. And to my fellow citizens who'd rather munch on feces sandwiches than devote the time and effort to familiarizing themselves with, speaking out against, vociferously opposing and speaking out against, and punishing those involved in this type Governmental misconduct by means of legal sentences AND withheld votes, I'd pretty much offer the same simplistic advice. Otherwise, more and more of the rest of the world's citizens are going to see us as mute, apathetic enablers of an ever increasingly prostituted Democracy that is wholly eroding away at a breakneck pace. |
| My li'l hedgehog triplet, Deelyte- Chillin' regaled us with a hysterical shopping Mall "mishap" in her Blog recently, and while changing my Depends after laffin' so hard at her tale, I remembered something that happened in a Shopping Center parking lot on bitterly cold, post-ice storm, wintry Ohio Day after Christmas many years now past... My brother and I were both home for the Holidays from our respective residences in other cities, and my brother's friend accompanied him, as well. My Mother by that time was in her 60's, and though she is about 5 inches taller than I am, my brother towered both of us at 6'-2", and his buddy was a healthy 5'-11" or so, as well. Kirk, (my brother) suggested we all go see a Holiday movie at one of those shopping center type movie-plexes, and off we all decided to go. The streets were fairly well salted down and cleared of the perilous layer of ice a storm had dumped on us the day before, but the Shopping Center parking lot was an entirely different story. We were all traveling in my Mother's 1970, mint green, Chevrolet Impala 4-door sedan, which Kirk always referred to as "the boat" due to its gargantuan size, both in terms of it's deep-floored, roomy interior and its exterior height and proportions, as well. Kirk and Chuck occupied the driver's and front passenger's seats, which they'd scooted as far back as possible to acommodate their long, lanky legs, and Mother and I occupied the back seat. I was situated behind Kirk and Mother, behind Chuck. So we get to the Shopping Center Movie-plex, Kirk parks the boat, and all four car doors open as we all prepare to disembark. The air was bitter cold, and I remember the roof of the outside of the car was so high that Chuck remarked he could only see my frostified breath as my vertically challenged little body exited the back seat and arose, catty-corner to and on the opposite side of the vehicle from him. He, Kirk, and I were all palavering like magpies at one another over-top the car roof, all of our doors standing open as we leaned toward one another, finishing up whatever we'd been yacking about on the way to the Movie-plex and waiting for Mom's head to pop up and make it a foursome. Eventually, it dawned on us that the fourth head seemed somewhat tardy in so 'popping', and Kirk said over the car roof to no one in particular, "where's Mom?". I looked at Kirk with a big dumb void on my countenance, and he in turn looked across the roof at Chuck, who ducked down and looked through his still-open front passenger door into the back passenger seat Mother had occupied just moments before. He rose again and announced to me and Kirk, "I don't know WHERE she went." "Whaddaya mean you don't know where she went?", Kirk barked over the rooftop at Chuck, "her door's still open... she has to be over there somewhere." Mind you, we were in the middle of a huge parking lot that was absolutely deserted, save a very few cars parked sparsely here and there, their occupants apparently also attending the movie that was playing. Like some insane, patchworked melding of an episode of "All in the Family" with "The Three Stooges Go Out for a Holiday", all three of us young, fully mature adults simultaneously bent down again and peered into the utterly empty interior of the Impala. No Mother, we all wordlessly agreed with facial expressions as we now peered at each other through three open doors of the car instead over its roof. Hmmmmmmm. We had just all stood back up and were gawking at one another over the roof again... all four car doors still open... and we heard this wee small, distant voice say.... "I'm down here, you idiots." Three adult children once again bent over, and this time we found her.... UNDER the car. With only her left foot and ankle stuck under the back of the front passenger's seat. I immediately sprint-slipped over to her side of the car and helped Chuck un-pin her stuck foot, then slide her torso out from beneath the undercarriage of the car. Her facial expression was priceless... and, as Elton John is fond of warbling about sad songs... said sooooooo much. Mostly, I'd say, it conveyed a rich blend of I can't believe I fell on my butt in the middle of a Shopping Center parking lot.... shaken, not stirred... with a ronust splash of I can't believe three full-grown schmucks, two of which are the fruit of my own loins, let me FALL down without noticing me fall in the FIRST flippin' place! ( I would have been the eldest of the two fruit-of-her-loin schmucks in question, just in case you're lost by now and/or happen to care... ) So Chuck and I are trying to assist my flattened, half-frozen Mudder back to something somewhat resembling standing on her own steam, slipping on the ice and twice falling down ourselves, clumsily dropping her hapless, frost-covered-limbs-all-askew body in the process. Given that we happened to be parked on an incline, each time she was dropped, Mother swiftly slid right back under the car. Frustrated, she finally bellered from somewhere beneath the Impala's undercarriage, "Oh, for GAWD's sake, don't HELP me anymore!" As was my habit in youth, I shrunk back like testicles in cold water when she bellowed thus, and Kirk immediately stepped into the fray. I must say, though, his initial remark to my Mother didn't exactly soothe her... "How the hell did you get down here in the first place?" My mother, still flat on her back and staring up into the grey-clouded sky, retorted, " I got my foot caught under the seat, the foot I did have out of the car skidded on the ice, and I fell and slipped right under the car... HOW DO YOU THINK I GOT DOWN HERE??? !!! ??? " I timidly asked her if she was hurt at all, and she rotated her snow-capped head toward me and bestowed me with an icy stare... "Noooooo... I am NOT hurt. I've just fallen and I can't get up." THAT did it ~ Kirk, Chuck, and I burst into gales of laughter because of the correlation of Mother's utterance with a TV commercial of that era, which, of course, ticked my still supine Mother off ALL to hell and gone. And the more she indignantly squawked and sputtered, the harder we laughed, despite innumerable failed attempts to get ourselves under control. Somehow we managed to get her back on her pegs, all of us slip-sliding and falling through tear-spurting gales of uncontrollable giggling, and hustled her into the theatre. I really can't remember much about the film we saw... it was interrupted far too many times by spontaneous, insane giggling issuing forth in the darkness, immediately met by two chorusing sources of muffled guffawing, followed closely by a harsh, whispered-through-clenched teeth, exclamatory remark of "SHUT UP, you three!!!" Oh what fun it was to ride in an 8-horsepower, open boat... |
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| I am as upset and shaken to the core as is humanly possible right now, and, though I loathe feeling this way... I'm also enraged. Family members have always said I favor my maternal Grandfather in that I'm extremely tolerant, have a very long, slow-burning fuse, endeavor to see every situation/behavior/personality manifestation "through other guy's eyes", and am always the last person to give up on someone. But like him, when I DO throw in the towel, I'm DONE. A co-worker of ours suffers with manic depression (more modernly known as Bipolar Disorder), and six or seven of us have for years circled the wagons around her, providing her with every form of support, from financial to empathy to watching her children to shouldering an extra work burden during her many absences and when she is actually present at work but not able to pull her share of the load due to her condition. Collectively, I think, we've come together like this on her behalf because we are, each and every one, dealing with the very same issues of childhood and adult emotional/physical abuse and mental illnesses/impairments that she is... and have never failed her as an abiding sounding board, circle of understanding friends, and unfailing source of support. Throughout it all, at least one of our numbers has ALWAYS been there to listen at work or when she calls us as she rants and raves about how she was abused as a child, what a monster her sexually, physically, and emotionally abusive her stepfather was, how indifferent he is to her continuing demands that he acknowledge his guilt and the devastation it wrought in her childhood and adolescence, and how it and her thusly exacerbated mental illness continue to ruin her life and leave her with no hope or future as a result. She has confided that she's been married and divorced three times, and each ex-husband is a complete bastard, (even though the latest ex, who is the father of her three children, pays child support faithfully and remains a constant in his children's lives, despite the volatility she demonstrates toward him to this day, even with the children present.) We continue including her in social functions, inviting her into our homes, taking her out for brunches/dinner/movies/bowling/etc., despite the fact that she often declines or cancels because she is just too tired or suffering from headaches and/or a number of other ailments. We've remained abidingly encouraging and supportive, and sincerely praise the efforts she does make when they are praiseworthy, despite her apathy, undeniable lack of appreciation, and unrelenting attitude of "my life is a pile of shit and won't ever change, no matter what I do, so fuck it." We have lent her money she's never repaid because the kids needed something and she couldn't make ends meet to take care of it, even though she plays Bingo four to six times weekly and loses far more than she's won. We've all pussyfooted around her and covered for her when she's having a bad headache or intestinal issues on the days she does show up (usually late) for work, and no one has ever lit into her when she snaps and snarls, opting not to upset/escalate her and attempting to be empathetic regarding her illness and past history of abuse. Two of us have immediately responded to and watched over her and the children throughout the night twice now after she went ballistic, threatened suicide, and took God only knows how many and what kind of pills. In her estimation, none of the plethora of physicians and therapists she's gone through know what they're talking about, none of the pharmacological cornucopia of medications they've prescribed for her do her any good... she was dealt a rotten hand in life and won't ever be able to get past the wrongs done to her; therefore, "don't even talk to her" about trying to heal are the words she flings at us in anger we simply cannot assuage. Today, though, she finally not only lit my fuse, but fanned it 'till it burned to it's very end... I'd arranged with her last week that we'd go shopping at the Mall together today. As most people know about me, I despise traffic and shopping throngs, but her car is out of service and she needed to get out and "get the stink blown off of her". I told her I'd treat her to lunch and we'd make a Holiday lark out of it. I knew her 4-year-old would be coming along, but that her 9- and 10-year-olds would be in school. This morning, she called to cancel because she'd had a bad migraine last night, took some medicine for it, slept through the alarm clock, and the kids had missed their school bus. I told her that was no big deal; that they could come, too, if she still felt like going. She said, " Yeah ! If you don't mind the extra passengers, I'm up for it... I'd never turn down a free lunch ! " So I saddled up Annie Laurie and trundled on over to her place, picked them up, and set off for the Mall. I had a Christmas music cassette tape playing, and the kids began singing " We Wish You a Merry Christmas ". I was just opening my mouth to join them when their Mother bellowed, "Will you brats SHUT THE FUCK UP !!!???!!! How many times do I have to TELL YOU to shut the fuck UP !!! ". I don't know how many times she'd "had to tell them that" before I picked them up, but it was certainly the first time she had since they'd piled into my car. After nearly veering off the road when she scared the crap out of me by shrieking at the kids like that, an utter hush fell over the once merry little bunch. I have always been impressed with how intelligent, innocent, and sweet-natured these children are, despite the chaotic events they'd witnessed at their mother's hands due to her illness and its attendant manifestations, and I wanted so badly to tell Carol, "it's okay, hun, I don't mind 'em singing at all", but was too afraid to do so for fear I'd inadvertently ratchet up her ire all the more. So I kept my mouth shut, and the only one who spoke for the rest of the trip was Carol, who expounded at length about how rotten she'd been feeling, what an "asshole" our Supervisor is, how stressed out "these fucking kids" make her, and what a "piece of shit" her life is in general. Nothing I've not heard from her many times before... but something I'd stupidly not realized her children have long been enduring even more often than her circle of friend/co-workers do. So we get to the Mall, and the parking lot was a zoo. We wound up parking two clicks north of Pluto, and began trekking toward the Main Entrance. Carol and her kidlets, none of whom ( including Carol herself ) had taken ahold of anyone else's hand, got a head start and were walking slightly ahead of me because I'd had to pause a moment to lock up Annie Laurie. As I turned to catch up with them, the 4-year old was in the lead... and I saw the back-up tail lights of a parked vehicle the little feller was crossing behind blink on. Fearing the driver might back out of his parking space and run over a tiny child he could not see in his rear window or mirror, I screamed, " Carol, grab Jeremy!!! " Apparently the driver heard me and stopped backing up immediately, and Carol ran up and snatched Jeremy by the neckline of his jacket and marched on toward the Entrance, jerking him along in tow. She also bestowed an evil, withering look upon her 10- year old, telling him, "You're in for it now... you KNOW better than to leave your brother walk without taking his hand ! ". The young lad looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi. As soon as we entered the Main Atrium, Carol grabbed the 10-year old, roughly bent him over a Visitor's bench, unsnapped the detachable leather shoulder strap from her handbag, folded it double, and started wailing the tar out of that child's buttocks, telling the 9-year old that she was next because she knew better, too. I know she got at least six licks in before I could react and physically intervene; I shudder to think of how many more she would have given both he and his sister had I not physically stopped her. By now, all three children were in tears and nearly hysterical, a number of people had stopped dead in their tracks and were staring in utter shock and disbelief, as, with a backdrop of Holiday decorations glistening all around us, Carol told me, "take your fucking hand off my arm before I knock you out, Bitch! Not you or anyone else tells me how to raise my children!" I did take my hand off her arm... after gathering all three kids behind me, and told her she had one of two options: either I would take the children with me to stay with their father for the remainder of the afternoon and evening, or I could summon the police right here to the Mall, file a complaint against her on the spot, and request that the children be placed in a safe environment. After a few more choice expletives, invectives, and threats from her, I finally interrupted her and evenly told her, " Make your choice, Carol. Right now. I'll give you cab fare to get home on your own and I'll take the kids to their Dad... or we call the cops, right here and right now. Either way, these kids aren't going anywhere with you for the moment." She venomously voiced her preference for the former option. So the kids are safe with their Dad for the night, and he promised he would not give them back to her for at least through the night while she gets a grip. The phone was ringing when I came in my door after dropping them off, and I've since been treated to four back-to-back calls abounding with vulgarity and swearing, what a Bitch I am, how NO ONE has the right to judge her or interfere with how she disciplines her children, how no one has a CLUE how horrible and hopeless her life is and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. When I tried to tell her that I was not judging OR condemning her, but that we all HAVE to break the cycle of child abuse and it has to start with us because we can't break the part of the cycle that's already part of past, she simply said, "Fuck you" and hung up on me... only to call me right back a few minutes later with a continuation of her verbal barrage. Finally I called Dave to check on the kids, and he told me that she's calling and screaming at HIM that he and I are in cahoots, that we're against her, etc. He thinks she's either over-medicated on perhaps too many kinds of meds... or has maybe gone off all meds altogether. Either way, he and the kids are going to spend the night at his parents' house so they can ALL have a peaceful evening and restful sleep. And since I'm online, she can't call me right now, either. Once I go offline, I'll unplug the friggin' phone. And God help her if she shows up here for a "confrontation", because thinking about those traumatized, sobbing children makes me want to slap her silly and then shake her 'till her teeth fall out, Bipolar or not. What I've FINALLY come to understand is this: Granted, Carol has endured an immense amount of pain and has suffered mightily due to her history of abuse and resulting mental illness. But she also vociferously and adamantly denounces child abusers and those who fail to understand/tolerate mental illness. She is extremely intelligent and possesses many talents, but steadfastly fails to count those as blessings and squanders it all away. She unceasingly uses all of us, and is is wholly unappreciative and demonstrative of a mindset of unconditional entitlement to the innumerable kindnesses and supportive efforts of we who not only share her history and illness, but have abidingly rallied to her side in every way imaginable to help her toward recovery. She soundly condemns others for abusing their children, even as she traumatizes and abuses her own. She readily and regularly discerns, calls to task, rails against, condemns, and proclaims herself an Advocate for the victims of others' neglect. crimes, and abuse in all forms... all the while insatiably devouring, like some huge, utterly void, perpetually vacuous black-hole, every bit of empathy, support, and goodwill so plentifully offered to her, persistently mewling for more... and subjecting her children to precisely (if not far, far worse) the same kind of neglect/abuse that she rails so vehemently against. It's finally dawned on me that she is just plain addicted to the sympathy, attention, encouragement, and support of all kinds she richly receives from each of us... and it's implied consent/approval of her malignant narcissism and self-involvement to the exclusion of all others, inclusive of her own innocent and utterly helpless children ~ and conveniently provides her a perfect escape route from sincerely and honestly accepting any modicum of personal responsibility for any and every failure/shortcoming/obstacle she's unwilling to conquer or even halfheartedly attempt to get past in life. She pays an immense amount of lip service to 'doing the work' we ALL have to do every DAY in order to recover and heal, but never actually gets around to doing it... and the beat just goes on and on because she's become a professional and perpetual victim, summarily blaming her failure in doing the work on her illness and childhood abuse... which, of course, she staunchly refuses to get past. Which, of course, means that the destructive cycle remains perpetually well-nourished and therefore thrives... now devouring her own, equally innocent yet victimized children, as well. Yes, the work is HARD ~ sometimes emotionally backbreaking ... yes, it has to be done every damn DAY... and yes, it's not at all fair that some of us caught these particular breaks in life. But for crying out loud ~ no human being was EVER promised a rose garden in life, and I don't care HOW much horror and pain we've endured... there are countless of our fellow men who have fought and clawed their way through a hundred times worse. No one can just "get over" the horrible wrongs this woman and I and MULTITUDES of others have suffered in life... to expect that of anyone in such circumstances is an exercise in futility. But we CAN, each and every one of we "victims", 'grow a set' of sufficient size to make a committed, steadfast, unwavering effort to get PAST it all, even when shards persist in trying to rear their ugly heads in days to come... if for no other reason than the sake of our own children ~ who are NO more deserving of this kind of crap than we were at their age. If she does not want/choose/possess the wherewithal to slug her way past the past and onward toward recovery... then, like any addict who refuses that option, that is, indeed, her tire-spinning prerogative. But for the rest of us around her, there comes a time to cut bait and cease enabling her to wallow in suffering and self-pity while keeping the flames of her terrible past stoked to inferno levels. If she wants to ride this rocket until it crashes and burns and blows her off the face of the earth, it is finally evident to me that NO one can love, support, encourage, and/or rescue her enough to save her from that fate unless and/or until SHE decides to stop fueling the rocket's insane inertia. And after 30-some years, as of right now, she's still not even close to that point. The time to cut bait and stop enabling her has now come for me... and, I sadly realize... should have come a long time ago for the sake of those poor kidlets. The fact of the matter is, regardless of the cards we're dealt in life, once we're adults it is no longer all about US ~ particularly when children are involved. At that point... it's all ON us... to see that those children do not suffer what we did/do. As all of us who've suffered child abuse/emotional and psychological illness and scars have often thought or said, we as children never asked to be born into a world of abuse/neglect/emotional and psychological fallout. Well, folks... our OWN children never asked for that, either. She's an adult now, with children of her own. And she has a perfect right to live her life as she chooses (or chooses NOT) to. BUT... that right certainly does not include traumatizing, abusing, neglecting, and putting her children through hell ~ and dooming them to the very same victimization and devastation in their lives that she so bitterly proclaims has ruined her own... all because SHE was abused as a child and suffers mental illness stemming from that abuse, and has zealously and obstinately opted to remain a victim of it in adulthood. And if she doesn't get a clue and put a swift and certain stop to it, I'm going to involve Children's Services and/or testify openly if and when their father seeks full custody. Enough is ENOUGH... and then some. |
| * The renown Blabbigal Van Burnin' Huffinpuffin Von Sternum gracefully traverses the stage and into the soft, warm Holiday glow of the spotlight, which favors her diminutive but charmingly perky cleavage with a beguilingly soft rosy glow... the audience, in a reverent hush, breathlessly awaits her pending pearls of verbalized Holiday Treasures... * "Gude eef-nink, von und alles... all off you Be-ewe-tee-full und vondefull people personz! Und velcome to " WDC's Holiday Masterpiece Thee-a-ter"! I haff a zimply vunderbar zeelekshun vith vich to deelight choo dis eef-nink! Eet iz called.... " Mary Lou Who's X-Rated Night Before Titmouse " Twas the Night before Titmouse, and through Mary's house... not a creature was stirring ~ (she'd poisoned the mouse). Candles were lit, pheromones filled the air in hopes that her Stud Hubby soon would be there. Her chilluns and grandbabes nestled snug in hotels... (Mary's plans for the Caveman involved casting spells). With her Man clad in handcuffs, her crop she'd make snap and ride her wild Stallion to Heaven and back! Mooning the road crew shoveling snow, her gin-radiant butt-cheeks shone a lustrous soft glow. Then from the stoop came her Man's pitter-patter... Caveman was home with one stiff bananner! Away to her boudoir she flew like a flash! Tore open her Bustier and sweet-nectared slash! He entered her quickly ~ went straight to his work... "Slow down with that dicky... Mama wants perks ! " He filled up her boxed gifts, then turned with a wink... "She's basking in afterglow ~ that's what I think! " But we heard her exclaim 'ere he crashed for the night..." "Oh, YEAH, my Stud Hubby... two more to the right!" * Rises with a graceful flourish from Christmas red, crushed velvet, over-stuffed Victorian parlor armchair to the crowd's roaring applause and standing ovation, curtsies deeply and most graciously, and glides genteelly off, stage Right. * |
| One of the BIGGEST killers of adults, children, and pets, especially once colder winter temperatures set in and houses are closed up against drafts and chill, is carbon monoxide poisoning. Sources of carbon monoxide release can include water heaters, furnaces, gas stoves, and any natural gas and/or propane operated, combustion-reliant appliance of any kind ( including partially obstructed, vented or flued fireplaces or any source of flame ). Carbon monoxide is commonly referred to as a "silent killer" because it is odorless and tasteless, and often overtakes us insidiously and slowly, with symptoms coming on so gradually as not to be immediately recognized until levels build in your bloodstream so great as to bring on unconsciousness/fatality. Carbon monoxide levels also tend to be retained and accumulate in ever increasing amounts in the bloodstream over prolonged periods of exposure to even small but unsafe levels, and it therefore can takes hours/weeks/months for the body to rid itself of once the exposure ceases. And the tighter, more weather-resistant our homes and auto become, the greater the risk that carbon monoxide poisoning could rear its ugly head. Here are a few simple ~ but possibly life-saving ~ tips: 1. Be alert to yourself or other(s) in your home experiencing unexplained illnesses, including chronic fatigue, stomach/intestinal upset, dizziness, difficulty concentrating/thinking clearly, an "off the mark" feeling of any kind, visual disturbances, and/or headaches? ( ALSO BE COGNIZANT OF PETS ACTING ILL, GOING OFF THEIR NORMAL DIET/LIQUID INTAKE PATTERNS, OR BEHAVING PECULIARLY - they and children are often more sensitive to increased carbon monoxide blood levels than larger adults may be.) Remember ~ these symptoms may come on VERY slowly and insidiously... and may not even seem to affect some living in the home at all ~ therefore, they dangerously easy to miss until it's too late. 2. If the above symptoms seem to abate when the sufferer is outside or otherwise away for a period of time, you may very well have a carbon monoxide leak within your home. 3. Make a regular and frequent habit of checking the appearance and color of the flame/pilot light on ALL of your combustion-dependent appliances: orange and/or particularly furious-burning flames are not a good sign. 4. Regularly and frequently inspect your fireplace(s) /wood stove(s) /space heaters, where applicable ~ BE THEY GAS OR WOOD BURNING: their flues/vents should fully allow to air/gas exchanges to flow freely and fully, effectively and safely venting gasses out of your home 5. Insure that ALL rooftop/sidewall appliance flues or vents - including gas clothes dryers - are unobstructed by lint, bird's nests, dead leaves, debris, etc, and that the INTERIOR seals around their vented avenues of exit through you ceilings/walls are viable and completely intact. If you insulate your water heater, etc., insure that the insulation does not block, obstruct, or impair the appliance's ventilation source in any way. 6. Purchase reliable Carbon Monoxide Detectors (much like smoke alarms) in sufficient numbers, and strategically distributed throughout your home precisely as the Manufacturer recommends. Keep these detection units free of dust/residue, change their batteries as recommended ~ and NEVER disable them in the belief that they are simply "malfunctioning". Assume that they are warning you that carbon monoxide IS present at unsafe levels, open windows and doors, and immediately remove yourself, pets, and everyone else from the premises until a professional can check things out and make needed repairs. Always, ALWAYS err on the side of safety ~ if you receive an alarm and are uncertain who to call, START with the local Fire Department ~ and then your natural gas/propane company. 7. REMEMBER ~ all of the above applies not only to your home, per se, but to garages, be they attached or not, workshops, basements, converted attics, etc. ~ be mindful of all of these! 8. It is also possible to incur carbon monoxide poisoning while in your automobile, regardless of make, model, style, year, etc. Be vigilant about having your exhaust system checked regularly ~ or ANY time you run over a roadway obstruction/flood/obstacle ~ for any leaks/obstructions/blockages/separations, etc. As an added precaution, it is always a good idea to keep a window cracked open a tad in ANY auto or other enclosed area where carbon monoxide could potentially become an issue. I've "been there, done that, got the tee-shirt" in the carbon monoxide poisoning department ~ it was a near-fatal experience, and took me almost 6 months to get back up to speed afterward. DON'T let it happen to you ! Have a joyous and SAFE Holiday Season! |
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** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Herein for posterity are some of my fondest Christmas Quotes, some funny, some wise and insightful, some, for me, inspirational beyond description. May one or two of them brighten your Holidays as much as they do mine! " In the old days, it was not called the Holiday Season; the Christians called it 'Christmas' and went to church; the Jews called it 'Hanukka' and went to synagogue; the atheists went to parties and drank. People passing each other on the street would say 'Merry Christmas!' or 'Happy Hanukka!' or (to the atheists) 'Look out for the wall!' " ~ Dave Barry " Once again we find ourselves enmeshed in the Holiday Season, that very special time of year when we join with our loved ones in sharing centuries-old traditions such as trying to find a parking space at the mall.We traditionally do this in my family by driving around the parking lot until we see a shopper emerge from the mall, then we follow her, in very much the same spirit as the Three Wise Men, who 2,000 years ago followed a star, week after week, until it led them to a parking space." ~ Dave Barry " People can't concentrate properly on blowing other people to pieces if their minds are poisoned by thoughts suitable to the twenty-fifth of December. " ~ Ogden Nash " It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air." ~ W.T. Ellis " Christmas is the day that holds all time together." ~ Alexander Smith " It is not even the beginning of Christmas unless it is Christmas in the heart." ~ Richard Roberts " Christmas is the gentlest, loveliest festival of the revolving year -- and yet, for all that, when it speaks, its voice has strong authority." ~ W. J. Cameron " I sometimes think we expect too much of Christmas Day. We try to crowd into it the long arrears of kindliness and humanity of the whole year. As for me, I like to take my Christmas a little at a time, all through the year. And thus I drift along into the holidays, let them overtake me unexpectedly, waking up some fine morning and suddenly saying to myself: ' Why, this is Christmas Day ! " ~ Ray Stannard aker " This is Christmas: not the tinsel, not the giving and receiving, not even the carols...but the humble heart that receives anew the wondrous gift ~ the Christ." ~ Frank McKibbenDave Barry " I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year." ~ Charles Dickens " Were I a philosopher, I should write a philosophy of toys, showing that nothing else in life need to be taken seriously, and that Christmas Day in the company of children is one of the few occasions on which men become entirely alive." ~ Robert Lynd " Christmas! The very word brings joy to our hearts. No matter how we may dread the rush, the long Christmas lists for gifts and cards to be bought and given, when Christmas Day comes there is still the same warm feeling we had as children, the same warmth that enfolds our hearts and our homes." ~ Joan Winmill Brown " Christmas… that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance -- a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved. " ~ Augusta E. Rundel " The best EVER Holiday Sutffing my is old family recipe for Savory Chestnut Popcorn Stuffing... INGREDIENTS: 8 cups of dried bread cubes, 2 cups turkey broth, 1 stick melted, clarified butter, 2 cups cooked turkey/goose/chicken giblets, 3/4 cup chopped celery, 1/2 cup chopped onion, 1 cup chopped roasted chestnuts, 1 , 1 tsp. salt, other seasonings to taste, 1 cup unpopped popcorn. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Sautee onions and celery in butter, then add chestnuts and turkey broth and stir together. Remove from heart. Toss all dry ingredients and giblets together until well mixed, then pour sauteed butter/salt/onions/chestnuts/turkey broth mixture over combined dry ingredients in incremental portions, folding and tossing into mixture in between, until the stuffing reaches a desirable ratio of moisture to dry ingredients. (For stuffing that will go into your turkey, leave at a less moist consistency to allow for absorption of the bird's juices while roasting. For stuffing to be cooked independently of the bird, you may prefer to add more of your broth/sautee mixture to render your dressing more moist.) Stuff the back end and neck/front body cavities LIGHTLY to allow stuffing to absorb natural juices from the bird and expand while roasting. Place stuffed bird in brown paper or modern day backing bag and roasting, you can turn your attention to preparation of your Holiday Meal side dishes. When the ass blows off the turkey... it's done." ~ My Great Grandma Snow The best EVER Holiday Sutffing my is old family recipe for Savory Chestnut Popcorn Stuffing... INGREDIENTS: 8 cups of dried bread cubes, 2 cups turkey broth, 1 stick melted, clarified butter, 2 cups cooked turkey/goose/chicken giblets, 3/4 cup chopped celery, 1/2 cup chopped onion, 1 cup chopped 1 tsp. salt, other seasonings to taste, 1 cup unpopped popcorn. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Sautee onions and celery in butter, then add turkey broth and stir together. Remove from heart. Toss all dry ingredients and giblets together until well mixed, then pour sauteed butter/salt/onions/turkey broth mixture over mixed dry ingredients in incremental portions, folding and tossing into mixture in between, until the stuffing reaches a desirable ratio of moisture to dry ingredients. (For stuffing that will go into your turkey, leave it at a less dry consiststency to allow for absorpion of the bird's juices while roasting. For stuffing to be cooked independently of the bird, you may prefer to add more of your broth/sautee mixture to render your dressing more moist.) Stuff the back end and neck/front body cavities LIGHTLY to allow stuffing to absorb natural juices from the bird and expand while roasting. Place stuffed bird in brown paper or modern day backing bag and fold closed, place bagged bird on rack in a large roasting pan and place in oven. While the turkey is now rosating, you can now turn your attention to preparation of your Holiday Meal side dishes. When the ass blows off the turkey... it's done." ~ My Great Grandma Snow THE U-L-T-I-M-A-T-E GIFT FOR THE PERSON WHO HAS EVERYTHING: http://gizmodo.com/gadgets/gadgets/interchangeable-rectal-dummy-150161.php |
" One Magical Christmas " I was just remembering a cold, snowy Christmas Eve night some 26 years long past... I was on patrol in Zone 1, which happened to be the area of town I grew up and still resided in, and was dispatched to a residential burglary in a low income housing complex only blocks from the elementary school I attended as a child. In those days, such housing was nothing like it is today; nowhere near as nice as much of the HUD housing and apartment complexes that presently serve in this capacity. In this particular instance, the housing complex was comprised of numerous, post-World War II military Quonset Huts that had been refurbished to accommodate low income families. On arrival at their domicile, I learned that the charming little family living there was comprised of a 20-something mother and her two children, a dear little 4-year old boy with doe-like eyes, and a precious 5-year old little girl with a radiant, missing-front-toothed smile that could stop your heart mid-beat. Though attired in clothing obviously second hand and a bit frayed and worn here and there, both of these adorable wee ones could have just stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Not only were they outwardly comely... an exquisite beauty shone from deep within they AND their mother, clearly evidenced in tangible personification of grace, unassuming dignity, and an abiding demonstration of sincerity, politeness, regard, appreciation, and concern for their fellow man. It was obvious that this Mother was sparing no effort in exemplifying for her beloved children unconditional love for others, self-reliance, self-sufficiency, selflessness, humility, impeccable manners and character, and abiding faith and hope. Their home was very modestly furnished, yet clean, cozy, and inviting. In the living room stood a relatively small, fresh-cut Christmas tree whose marked-down-priced, flawed shaping had been artfully transformed into a thing of pure and innocent loveliness by the home-made green and red construction paper chains, popcorn strings, hand-tied ribbon bows, hand-drawn and fashioned "ornaments", and pine cones collected in a nearby wooded area, then carefully festooned with sparkling glitter. The only thing resting upon the snow white sheet skirting the tree were all the figures of a Nativity Scene ~ Baby Jesus in His manger, Mary, Joseph, cattle, a donkey and sheep in the stable, adoring Angels and Shepherds kneeling outside, and the Three Wise Men approaching on their camels. Several of the once carefully arranged, perfectly centered Scene's figurines had been knocked askew by the intruder as he stole the few meager presents the mother had been able to afford for the kidlets. Additionally, he'd ransacked both the Mother's and the children's bedrooms, stealing $18.00 in cash that Mom had tucked away in a dresser drawer and pilfering both of the children's piggy banks and the money contained therein. It was apparent from the smooth finger-smudges left on the broken window and sill where the burglar gained entry that he was gloved, and it was therefore pointless to request the scene be processed for fingerprints, heaping even more disarray and cleaning chores upon the single, working Mom, so when she asked how long I needed her to leave everything as it was for processing, I went ahead and took some quick photographs of the indoor and external evidence and cleared the scene, meaning it no longer had to be preserved. Upon hearing this, the very first thing the children did was carefully set all the Creche Scene figurines back to rights. The family's husband and father had left them three years before, and the Mother reported she'd been gone all day at her job as a housekeeper, picked up her children at the sitter's, and then arrived home at around 7:30 PM to discover the burglary. By the time I arrived ten minutes later, it was already growing dark outside and was just beginning to snow. After completing the crime report, I helped her cut up an old cardboard box and snuggly fit several, cut-to-size, corrugated layers into the broken window's frame, and lock it once again as had been before the breaking and entering. As I prepared to return to patrol, the Mother and the children all gave me a peck on the cheek and a thank-you hug good-bye. They were going to go to Midnight Christmas Eve Services, the Mother told me, and then would be coming home for the rest of the night. I assured her that we'd assign saturated patrol to her area until she could afford to get the window repaired, and the enchanting little girl piped up, saying, " It's okay, Mommie, Santa can still come if the police are watching over us... he won't have to be afraid of the burglar, either ! " The Mother answered her that even if Santa couldn't come, they'd still be together for Christmas, called the children' attention to how heavily and prettily the Christmas snow was falling, and told them how much fun they were all going to have spending all of Christmas Day together, making snowmen and snow angels and playing in the snow. I left that humble abode in utter awe... and moved beyond description by all the quiet, humility-infused grace I'd witnessed therein. And I decided that Santa would visit this home and magical family this very night, come hell or high water. The only store open on Christmas Eve at that hour was a Rexall ~ in those days, the equivalent of a Rite-Aid or Walgreens, carrying everything under the sun from clothing to lunch meat, bread, snack items, and dairy products, plus your expected inventory of health aids and a pharmacy. I'd learned that the little girl adored baby dolls, Play Dough, and stuffed teddy bears, and the little feller loved Hotwheels, motorcycles, miniature metal cars, Legos, and sidewalk roller skates. ( He'd broken a wheel on his old pair and had asked Santa for new ones ). I made a beeline for the Rexall store. Because I was single and had no children of my own, I'd never really paid much attention to what toys they carried, but I knew they did carry at least some and was hoping for the best. And boy, was my wish granted ! The place was a virtual Toyland, stocked for Christmas with many toys, candy, cookies, etc. in a far greater selection than what they normally carried. I found a large, bottle-drinking, open-and-close-eyed baby doll set that included a bassinet that doubled for an adorable little bathtub, receiving blanket, cloth diapers, a onesie, an additional two sets of clothes, and a rattle and a baby bottle. I also spied several additional outfits with matching bonnets and a rocking cradle and large baby crib sold separately from the starter set, an adorable stuffed panda, and a plush, pink teddy bear that was nearly as big as she was. Finally, on a shelf before my very eyes, I spied a Play Dough press and cookie cutter set complete with full-sized cans of Play Dough in all four colors, a press for creating all sorts of 3-dimensional "artistry"( including hand-made Christmas ornaments ), and a sizable assortment of plastic, primary-color-hued cookie cutters in a variety of shapes and sizes. For the little boy, I found a miniature car racing set complete with a track that could be configured in multiple ways, and a dozen brightly colored "racing cars" in numerous automobile "makes" and "models". I couldn't resist an off-brand set of similar cars that came with a multi-tiered parking garage and gas station, a toddler-sized, ride-able plastic "motorcycle", a killer Lego Construction set... and a darling pair of stainless steel, adjustable foot-plate, leather-strapped roller skates. I quickly gathered up and added three big, treat-and-small-toys- filled, decorated stockings, two Christmas cards, two adorable piggy banks, a couple of bags of bows and ribbons, and green and red felt marking pens to the top of the pile and checked out. I had called the Dispatcher and told her where I'd be, finishing up some last-minute Christmas shopping, and because it was Christmas Eve, she said take all the time I needed, just keep my portable radio on in case she needed to dispatch me to a call. It was Christmas Eve and as usual, my city was was quiet as a mouse anyway, so I had no calls waiting when I left the store. From there I radio-requested permission for lunch hour, which was granted. I hustled over to my house, hurriedly removed all price stickers/tags and affixed bright ribbons, bows, and name tags signed by Santa to all the gifties, raided my cash stash, and popped six $20.00 bills into the envelope with its accompanying Holiday greeting card entitled, "Christmas Magic". In the Christmas card for the children was a note from Santa commending them for loving their Mama so much and being such a good girl and boy, their wonderful manners, how smart and beautiful they both were, and what a wonderful Mommy God had given them, plus two $10.00 bills to put in their new piggy banks. He also told them he was sorry their presents weren't necessarily wrapped because most of his Gift Wrap Elves Staff was sick in bed sick with a cold this year. I had everything stashed in my cruiser with another 30 lunch hour minutes to spare when a last-minute thought occurred to me... I had a small turkey thawing in my refrigerator, loads of eggnog, cranberry sauce, fixings for stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, and punkin pie and Cool Whip laid in to cook for myself for Christmas Day... but I also still had time to volunteer to work a double shift on Christmas, which was falling on my regularly scheduled day off that year, freeing up two other officers with families and children to have Christmas Day off. So who needed a turkey and such? I threw all the stuff in a box and threw THAT in my cruiser, too. It was smooth sailing from that point on... I called Dispatch, asked her to notify the Watch Commander I'd be volunteering for the double shift tomorrow, and advised her I'd clear my lunch hour at the proper time by radio, but that I might need a little time after clearing to finish up a personal matter in my assigned Zone. Again, she told me that mine were the only two phone calls she'd taken in the past two hours and to just make sure I kept my mobile radio on when out of the cruiser. "Away in a flash" I then flew... but given that the little family lived less than five minutes away from me, it was a brief flash, indeed. I carefully pushed in the cardboard we'd fitted over the broken window, scrambled through it, and unlocked the front door from the inside. It was close to 11:00 PM by now, and I knew the family would be returning from Midnight Services soon. I peeked in their refrigerator and sure enough... no Christmas bird awaited therein. PERFECT!!! I arranged the gifts under their sweet little tree, sat their stockings on the sofa cushions, stocked the refrigerator with a bow-bedecked turkey and all the fixin's for a Christmas dinner, leaving the Mother's card and note from Santa propped against the turkey and the dry and canned goods for the meal on the kitchen table. Then I replaced the cardboard in the window, re-locked the door on my way out, made like the all-famous hockey player, and got the puck outta there.I was pulling away when I spotted something that made me freeze. My fresh tracks in the snow! NOW what? And it hit me then that my footprints were very small; so much so that my fellow officers used to make fun of them when I arrived at a call before they did and left diminutive footprints behind. I broomed the footprints leading to and under the window and my cruiser's tire tracks away, but left the footprints leading to and away from the front door as they were... and used my nightstick to create eight sets of "reindeer pawprints" a short distance from the house, as well. ( I did't have to worry about Santa landing on the rooftop, because it was a rounded Quonset Hut-type roof and it made sense that Santa would, for safety reasons, land his sleigh on the front lawn, instead.  ).I radioed in clear of my lunch hour, and all remained peaceful and quiet for the duration of my Christmas Eve shift. So I parked behind a building where I could see their humble abode but not be seen until that dear little family came home from church. I was too far away from them to hear anything, but I could discern two very small and one adult silhouette behind the curtained living room window, scooting back and forth and seemingly making quite merry. But God and all His Angels know that of the four people involved in this scenario... it was I who had the most fun of all. I saturated patrol in their area for the remainder of my shift that evening, and during both shifts on Christmas... and the following night, when I noted that the window had been repaired and the cardboard "patch" was no longer there. I never saw or spoke to any of these three wondrous, phenomenally special and amazing people again, but I'm as certain as I am of my own name that they went on to bring much joy, goodness, and love into this world. I also know that they gifted me with the most marvelous and treasured Christmas of my entire life thus far... and I'd like to think that for all of them and those they love, Santa Claus will forever be alive and real. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** WISHING ALL A MARVELOUS, BLESSED, LOVE-FILLED HOLIDAY SEASON ! ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
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