Mother awoke to the chilling realization that someone trying to break in the house. “Bill! Bill! Wake up Bill! Someone’s trying to get in!!” Daddy didn’t normally sleep: he went into a coma, but adrenaline jolted him into action. He grabbed his loaded shotgun and crept to the window. In the darkness, a tiny light glowed in the darkness of the front porch. It wasn’t just Mother’s imagination! Someone was trying to get in! Continue reading
memoir
Ascending into Heaven with Elijah and Big Three Firsts
The picture above stimulated the first mystical experience of my life. One of three first experiences in a twenty-four hour period for me. Quite a record for a six-year-old I’d say, not to mention, my future husband was linked to one of them. My mother and her dear friend Mildred who’d just learned to drive, decided one cold evening when their husbands were at work they’d like to drive over and spend the evening with Mildred’s sister, Mary, who many years later was fortunate enough to become my mother-in-law. While we were there Susie, Miss Mary’s prissy big girl, showed us little kids the glorious pictures in the big family bible, complete with terrifying stories of angels, devils, fire reigning down on Sodom and Gomorrah, and Adam and Eve being cast out of Eden. It was awesome.
Long after dark, we started home. Naturally, all the kids immediately fell asleep as soon as the car got warm and dark. The next thing I knew, I saw blazing lights as we whirled around. I realized immediately we were ascending into heaven in a whirlwind of fire but I wasn’t to happy about it! Howling kids were tossed all over the car. It turned out to be a far less heavenly experience. We’d been hit by a drunk driver but somehow escaped serious injury or a trip to heaven. The last thing my mother told me the next morning was not to tell my class that Johnny Jones daddy got drunk and hit our car. I had no idea it was Johnny’s daddy who’d hit our car
I had my next new experience first thing the next morning at school. I was the first up at our class’s first and last Show and Tell the next morning. I had a black eye to Show and plenty to Tell. Despite Mother’s warning, I felt the first grade really would be interested to know Johnny Jones’s father got drunk and hit our car. Miss Angie made me hush and sit down. We never had Show and Tell again, ever. Johnny Jones and I got in a fight at recess. We had to sit in the hall. The third first for me.
Save HarsH ReaLiTy!!
Reblogging on nutsrok. OM is not spam. I looked for his posts!
No one likes spam. In internet terms (as opposed to the stuff you find on the grocery store shelf) it’s the bane of our existence. Its sole purpose is to get our attention and once it does, it either begs us to buy something or gives us something we would never pay for – something like a virus.
Then there is the exception to the rule. In fact, there is only one exception that I’ve found in over a decade of browsing the web. It may have seemed like a “spam follow” at the start, but when I followed the cookie-crumb trail that led me back to its source, it ended up benefiting me beyond my wildest dreams: it was HarsH ReaLiTy.
Jason, also known as Opinionated Man, has a huge (over 50,000 blog, twitter, and Facebook combined) following on his blog, HarsH ReaLiTy. His passion for connecting with other…
View original post 373 more words
To the Girls Who Mocked My Son in the Mall – by Lisa Smith
Please read this excellent post.
Last evening as I walked through the nearly empty mall with my two youngest, you five girls were behind us by several yards. We had just seen a movie and were in great spirits. We were walking to meet up with four of my older children.
We stopped to take a photo, at one of those cutout scenes where you stick your faces through the holes. I caught sight of you as we took our photo, walking and giggling and having a good time. I have had teenaged girls and know how much fun they can have together in a mall. I noted to myself that you were a lively group but certainly not threatening in any way. You were walking faster than we were and the gap between us was closing. I turned from snapping our photo and we continued down the hall.
My son fell behind a few…
View original post 933 more words
Letter to a Patient from a Nurse:
Dear Patient,
You probably don’t remember me,but I was your nurse. I took care of you when you had your baby, took care of your sick child, comforted you when you were in pain. I worked extra shifts on holidays and weekends because you needed me. I rejoiced when you got better. Cried with you when you needed a friend and tried to help you find the answers. I sang and talked to you when you seemed unresponsive because I knew you were in there. I brought Easter baskets for your children so they wouldn’t be disappointed when they came to see you on Easter. I hugged you and your family. I talked to you about things outside the hospital to give you something else to think about, trying to bring you a story that would interest you everyday, unless you just needed me to be quiet with you. I was there for your miracle and to hold your hand when you died talking to Mama. I never corrected you, knowing it was her hand you were holding.
Nursing was my job, but taking care of you was my privilege. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life.
” Who in the Hell is Michael Jackson?”
Sometimes life serves up some incredibly sweet moments. About twenty-five years ago ,I mortally embarrassed both my high school children with no effort or planning on my part whatsoever. I was a dialysis nurse at the time. I had worked all night the night before. I had gone to bed about four that afternoon, knowing I was going to be called back. At eight-thirty in the evening the phone at my bedside rang. Jolted out of sleep, Continue reading
Life Slips Away
This is so poignant. Reblog.
So Much in a Picture
This is a 1904 picture of my Great Grandfather John Dobson Holdaway, his wife, Elvira Perkins, Holdaway, and their three sons still living at home. My Grandfather, Roscoe Holdaway is pictured in the middle with his bicycle, James Holdaway holding his rifle to his left with George Holdaway on the end, his pet groundhog at his feet. Continue reading
N. KOREANS HACK ARKANSAS MAN’S PROGRAMMABLE COFFEEMAKER
Rebogging from iteneraantneerdowell. This is just going too far!
The possibility, that even a small appliance could be hacked, was a frightening one for Mr. Boyd T. Howdee, from Ringhaven, Arkansas. Mr. Howdee claimed to have been victimized by North Korean hackers; his programmable coffeemaker sabotaged, this past Monday morning. Mr. Howdee, interviewed at the local “Save-A-Penny, Convenience, Gas, and Food Mart,” had this to say.
“I knew something was wrong right away. I checked the coffeemaker before me and the Mrs. went to bed last night. The power didn’t go out or anything. We don’t owe anything to anybody. It’s a brand-new machine–just got it from Wal-Mart last month. If those North Koreans could do it to a major movie studio–they could do it here.”
“Come to think of it–my grandson’s new gaming system didn’t work after Christmas, either. There’s nothing worse than a kid crying about a broken toy on Christmas. And if that didn’t beat all–that was…
View original post 197 more words