It’s hard to imagine why, but all Billy asked for that Christmas was an ax. Maybe he was remembering the year before with Evil Larry. That’s not a typical item for an eleven-year-old to ask for, but he stuck to his guns.  The ax was his only request.  Christmas morning he got up to find the tree mounded up with presents, but no ax shaped gifts, though it’s

Like you I see the world as grey,
filled with those who trade in death,
who riches gain as they trade in guns,
designed to take man’s last breath.

I wish for a world of peace,
of caring of tolerant thought,
while man stalks those he wants to kill,
with bombs or weapons bought.

Today I seek a pact in hope,
that Hugs may gain some ground,
and that 12 months from this day
The world in love abounds.

Nadolig Llawen a Blwyddyn Newydd Dda to one and all. Cwtch mawr.

Sorry, I know I played this last year.It’s now remastered for Charity.

I often think that talking or writing about religion is a hot iron. Opinions are strong when it comes to that subject. And yet it’s something that affects and moves all of us in one way or another. Here’s a blast from the past about some of my thoughts in regards to religion, acceptance and the love we should share.

Daddy loved home remedies and dosed his kids and livestock readily.   Mother did run interference for us on cow chip tea and coal oil and sugar, but did let him load us with sulphur and molasses for summer sores. We never got summer sores, probably because we reeked so much we didn’t tempt mosquitoes. I do appreciate Mother for putting her foot down when his ideas got too toxic. No telling what kind of chromosome damage she saved us.