Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Who The Hell Does He Think He Is?

I watched a video on AOL's front page today.  It made me so angry.   A young man, an American turncoat, was speaking for terrorists threatening to do more harm to us.

According to him, we should remove our presence from any country that has a Moslem population.  We also need to stop any support to "that bastard state Israel".  Folks, I think you know the only bastard in this story, is the speaker himself.

It is one thing for your enemies to hate you, taunt you but for it to be homegrown.  Raised within our bosom, having sucked on freedom's teat for his entire life...only to turn against everything that raised him.  To state, without remorse, that we should fear much greater devastation than 9/11...his new religion has turned his heart to stone within his breast.

You know I am quite tired of being politically correct.  I, as you too, have children and grandchildren; I want them to live free enjoying the liberty that our forefathers gave them with their lives.  When such a piece of crap threatens my world, I would call on whatever powers that be to reign down on his head. 

His parents must be so proud.   Better he should of rolled down his father's leg.

I'm in a quandary, my normal state is happy go lucky, loving people but right now I could kill.

I've said it before and I'll say it again.  If the Moslems around the world who do not want constant bloodshed were to stand up against these fanatics we would be on the way to peace.  But I guess the majority are cowards afraid to speak up.

I have a real hard time with a religion that calls for your enemy's heads and considers anyone not their religion to be an enemy.

Please someone, somewhere target this creep. 

 

 

Monday, May 28, 2007

Memorial Day Thoughts

Another Memorial Day is almost over.  The vast majority of people remember this day in simple ways. A bowed head, a whispered pray...moments of silence that count in the eyes of God.

Those of us who have been lucky enough not to be touched by war can only imagine what it feels like to be in one.

Down through the years, I've had many a conversation with older generations who have participated in war.  What I have been told is not a pretty tale, they are stories of bravery, stupidity, comradery and tactical brilliance.

My Greek grandfather was a doughboy in World War One, "the war to end all wars". If only it had been true. He had only been in America a short time before enlisting to defend his new country.  He did so with pride.  Thank God, he returned in one piece and went on to produce children - which I'm thankful for or I wouldn't be.

Papoo's two sons joined the navy during the second World War. Both of my uncles survived.  Uncle Billy had a nervous breakdown, due to working on the ships that came back from Hawaii. He was stationed in Norfolk, his hometown.  In later years, both of them would just say it was something that they had to do.

My own father was a Marine. He started out in the Asian theatre. His story is different from most. All his life he had been involved with horses and racing. He was stationed in Hawaii on the island of Maui...well, they raise horses there too.  One of the hot-shot generals found out about my Dad and wanted him to be a jockey for his racehorse.  You know, sometimes just sometimes, the fates are very fickle.

My Dad was removed from his unit, and did what the general wanted done. Raced his horse.  On one such race the leather girth under the horse split, causing the saddle to slide and my Dad was thrown off the horse while it was running at top speed.  Landing from such a fall would be bad enough, but the old horse parks used to have these wooden/metal spikes set around the track on the inside lane.  My dad's head landed directly on one.

They thought he was going to die. Then, as now, it was a case of uh-oh cover up the dirt for the general. Dad was placed in a hospital to recover.  While this was going on his whole unit was shipped out.  They were headed to the worst fighting of the war...the small islands. Now, the ironic twist to this story is that almost all his friends were killed. Dad was trained as a machine gunner, they were given less than five minutes to live in a fight.  So a horse, a crooked general and Hawaiian humidity saved his life.

There is more to his story but that will be for another day.

Now, my father-in-law Jim was amazing in his war experiences.  He was with the European front for a while and then also in the middle east. He was an expert marksman and won the army's rifle medal.  They had engaged the Germans in a battle somewhere in Italy. Unfortunately his unit was over-run and captured. Jim was placed in an Italian prisoner of war camp.  Well, being a stubborn New York kind of guy, sitting there didn't sit well with Jim.  He and another prisoner escaped, they managed to commandeer a motorbike with a sidecar.  They were being chased, his friend was speeding as fast as he could. They came to a spot where a train was coming across and his friend tried to make it across. He didn't.  Somehow Jim was thrown from the sidecar, quite bruised but in one piece.  The train hit the motorbike and his friend was gone in an instant.  Within minutes the Italians had Jim back in custody and back in prison.

He was told he had one strike against him. It was decided that he would be sent to a camp in Germany. He decided to try again and did. Joe has his Dad's prisoner of war tags showing the stalag that he eventually wound up in. I hold that small piece of metal in my hand and I know that he must have suffered much during that time. 

That was the spirit of the American soldier...never give up, never say die and don't let them see you sweat.

Jim never told his stories easily. My husband was amazed that his Dad would speak to me about his experiences.

To all our past, present and future soldiers.  I salute your courage, your compassion and your unending bravery.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Random Thoughts

I thought I would be brave and experiment with the digital camera...I was my only target.  I kinda like this scrolling thing that the picture thingy does now.  It sort of caresses the photograph with a soft grazing flow to it.  Do you all like this? Have you experimented yet?

Hubby and I took a mini vacation this past weekend. It was fun.  We headed to Treasure Island for sand, water and sun.  Actually we found an old treasure in the form of an old 1950 style motel, right on the beach.  Laid back, had a swimming pool.  Didn't even have a restaurant or anything with it. Our room turned out to be three rooms, living room, kitchen, bedroom and bath.  They had ones in front that have balconies on the second floor. Next time we will try for those.

These places are disappearing very quickly.  The land is worth so much more to a developer for a hotel or condos. In fact, hubby's job site was right next door to this little place. He's working on a huge Marriott Hotel, that will provide hundreds of rooms for tourists. 

So floating on my back in the pool I could gaze up and see the scaffolding on the ninth floor where my hubby would be back working on Monday.  All I could say was...Oh my God that's really high up there.  He is a supervisor and really doesn't have to be out there anymore, but he does it anyway.  I guess it's a man thing.

I tell you, not for nothing, but I could really see myself getting spoiled just laying back, watching the surf, the sunshine, the birds overhead and the sound of the sea.  All just so relaxing.

Right before we left we rebooked for Joe's birthday in November, this time we got the end unit with the lovely balcony......

Sunday, May 20, 2007

This Was Funny

Subject: Slide Down The Banister Of Life
 
 
 
All these are someone's writing..not mine I do agree with a lot of it though...lol...Sandi

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Yeah WE have Pictures Again...

Now this is something else. Love it. Maybe now it will be fun to

be able to write once again in my journal - without the aggravation.

The pictures above were only a test, but I love the way they look. 

Two of the pictures are of our resident peacock who thinks it owns our yard.  It actually taps on my front door for food. It loves raw cabbage - maybe it's Irish?  It also fights with my hubby's red truck.  It spreads it's tail wide open and does a sort of peacock dance sideways to block the car from either entering or leaving - depending which way the truck is headed.  It poses easily for our picture taking and the other day I was able to pet it's tail.  At night the sound of the peacock resonates across our neighborhood, reminding one of Tarzan's jungle.  The wild is still here - it's living in my yard..lol...

The kissing baby is just too too cute.

The other picture reminds me that there is magic in this world of ours.  You just have to watch very closely and you will see it.....morning dew sprinkled like fairy dust as the sun says hello to a setting moon.   

Oh, I'm so happy about these pictures I'm doing the Happy Hampster Dance!!!