patti
Our first full day in India (keeping in mind that we landed almost exactly at midnight and it was 2 am before we were able to fall asleep) began by waking up at 5:30 am.  Not much sleep, but plenty of excitement and that pesky internal clock which is not so easily reset.  By 7 am the three of us were down in the dining room exploring our first Indian breakfast.  When traveling with OAT the hotels are carefully chosen with Western sensibilities in mind.  Beginning with clean rooms, flushing toilets, A/C where possible, and a breakfast buffet that includes both dishes authentic to the country and familiar to the Western palate – or at least that country’s best interpretation of Western dishes.  I believe the idea is that as soon as breakfast is over we will be immersed in the local culture and many westerners find it easier to face the very full day if they have at least that one meal of familiar food.  But we, beig an adventurous family shunned the western choices and tried a little of each of the many local breakfast items.



Asian breakfasts are pretty much the same fare that is eaten at the other two meals of the day - which is to say savory vegetable dishes, a variety of fried breads, and rice. In the case of India this list included a delicious potato stew, baked beans, and lintels.  Each dish was labeled and sometimes even a few of the main ingredients listed but of course when the labels are Poori, Idli, Cambur, Aloo Parantha, Raita, Uthappam, Dosa, Chapati, and Pongal -  well, the labels are not really much help.  I didn’t have the camera to photograph any of these, usually just too bleary eyed to think of bringing it, but the internet is a wonderful thing and not only can you find good pictures of each, but recipes as well.  For the first week we were game and enjoyed much of it, my favorite being Aloo Parantha which is basically a savory stuffed pancake which I spread with a spicy sweet jelly of some sort.  Yummy. This first morning, after we were all three stuffed like ticks, our waiter asked if he could have the chef prepare his own personal favorite breakfast dish just for us.  Sure, why not.  So a short while later he brought us what was essentially a large crepe stuffed with spicy lumpy mashed potato and onion. Very good, but we were already stuffed to the gills so it was all we could do to get it down.



  After the first week we really couldn’t face the spicy heavy food first thing in the morning.  Keep in mind my normal breakfast is about a cup of plain Greek yogurt and a cup of fresh berries.



Following breakfast, which each of our group ate at their leisure, we all met for the first time for our orientation session.  This is where we each introduced ourselves, gave a brief idea of who we were, and explained why we had decided to take this trip.  I must say, this was the most seasoned group of travelers with which I'd ever shared a room.  For the first time there were several who had been as many places as we have.  Some to the same places, some to some different places - but all had traveled a lot.  Several were looking for "spiritual growth" (more on that idea at a later time) - several were admirers of Gandhi and wanted to understand his country better, and then us.  This was to be our last chance for a big, highly educational trip with the boy that could be undertaken during the traditional school year.  Tours to India are suspended in the summer due to the heat so if we didn't go now, we'd never be able to take the boy.  He will be attending public school for high school beginning in August.



Our tour leader, Karni, also introduced himself in a bit more detail than late the night before.  He is quite young for leading a bunch of older Americans about (I learned later that he is 32) - keeping in mind that keeping up with a group of American women (female to male ratio 3-1  in the group) on the hunt for chotchkies can be a bit like herding cats - while dodging between cows, goats, running children, and persistent hawkers... Karni has a master's degree in tourism and during the hot summer months, when there are no tours to lead, he does on line marketing for his friend's backpacker hotel.  Karni also told us that if any of us had a Dell computer and had called tech support in 2007 to be helped by "Joshua", it was him ( It was allowed as how we had now found Peggy in the flesh - but Karni is much better looking than Peggy, smarter too).  He began to fill us in on several local customs and norms that would be important for us to know in order to survive relatively unscathed.  Things like how to avoid being mobbed by children and beggars demanding money (basically, don't start - if you want to help them then please donate to the foundations that are helping), avoid being mobbed by street vendors (basically don't speak to them - "maybe" means "yes" - "no" means "maybe", and don't look them in the eye whatever you do), we'll have to take off our shoes at any active mosque or temple or place seen as particularly holy (i.e. Gandhi's cremation site), and expect to be stared at from a very close range.  Of course several of us ignored the warnings as pertained to the vendors so we were chased pretty much the whole trip.



Shortly after the meeting we all gathered for a quick walking tour of the area immediately around our hotel in order to show everyone where the ATM was, where McD's could be found (they have a different sort of menu in India where beef is not consumed), and basically to dip our toes into the busy life that is India. We were to have lunch on our own this first day, but our own breakfast was so large, we elected to skip lunch and tried to rest a little and regain some degree of brain function.


This photo above was taken from the bus window as we made our way through Old Delhi to our sight seeing destinations for the day. It was Sunday and a big market day, this is sort of an Indian flea market. Though Sunday is not a holy day, it is not a work day either - unless of course you are selling at the markets.


Our first destination was the Jami Masjid mosque - I am not in this picture.  Not only did we have to remove our shoes to enter the mosque (our first use of "temple socks") but all of us Western women were required to put on huge - brightly colored - one size fits an elephant - caftans.  


This shot shows several of our group - I am in bright pink sans hat and that young man in the bright green shirt is the boy.  The mosque is huge but mostly made up of an open courtyard with galleries around the outer walls.  Worshipers for the most part gather out in this courtyard we are walking across.  There are metal supports across the courtyard for spreading huge lengths of canvas across when the sun is intense and the pavement too hot for kneeling.  Luckily for us, the temp was only in the upper 80s low 90s while we were there - plus it was overcast.  A blessing really.


Though the large majority of Indians are Hindu, there is a healthy Muslim population as well.  I will say, there was only one time on the trip when I felt any level of hostility or animosity amongst a group of Muslims - but that is much later in the tour.  There were more Hindu tourists in the mosque with us than there were Muslims, though I understand that during prayer time that would not be the case and the courtyard is often filled with worshipers.


Those engaged in prayer at this mosque actually face west - as we are on the far side of Mecca. The area shown below is a large pool used for the ritual ablutions before prayer.



This mosque was also where we got our first taste of the curiosity of Indians, as Karni had warned.  I think our group was probably doubly interesting to them as we had non-Caucasian Americans amongst us (the three Jamaican and the Cuban ladies).  This curiosity manifests itself by way of locals standing right up against and even in between us, staring at us from about three inches away. No exaggeration.  Mostly I thought it was funny.  Particularly found it amusing that for the first time in our travels - we were being surreptitiously photographed with cell phones.  Lord knows we've sneakily snapped our fair share of photos - more than our share on this trip.  Turn about is fair play and it really didn't bother me.  Probably would have freaked me out to have people getting that close to stare if Karni had not warned us though.  They had no idea we might have felt it rude or might have been made uncomfortable by their behavior.



From the foot of the stairs up to the mosque we climbed into our first rickshaws.



 Karni, our fearless leader, is there in the ball cap giving directions to our drivers.  I'll save the rickshaw adventure for the next post.





patti
I have promised several of you that as life got back on an even keel I would post my travel journal - with pictures.  Some time ago I came to the conclusion that life never gets back on an even keel.  In order to get back to equilibrium it would, of necessity, had to have been level at some point in the past.  Therefore, it seems the best course of action is to simply hold my nose and jump.  So, here goes.




Back on April 8 Himself, the boy, and I departed the western hemisphere for yet another sojourn to the orient - this time India.  As you know, we travel, and indeed I know how lucky we are to be in a position to do so.  I worry a good bit that we maybe shouldn't do so much – with kids in college, a wedding in the planing, a horse with expensive veterinary needs, etc. but the money that comes into this home is the hub’s and the travel is what he loves the very most, so who am I to say – but, but, but the cost?



That said - Love India! Loved Thailand more but still, India was fantastic.  What I am going to do for the next month or so is share my travel journal with you.  I don’t normally journal as we travel, though the man always does – but I figured since the boy was being made to keep one, I should set a good example and keep one as well.  Of course there is the added benefit that a journal would make decent blog fodder for a while. 



Understand that most days on this adventure began before 6 am and ended somewhere around 10 pm so time to write was not always easily found and as I have read back through the journal, I know I left out an awful lot.  I’ll try to fill in a bit as I go here.  Everyday was packed from beginning to end.  Even the hours spent on the exercise equipment/ torture device otherwise called a bus on Indian roads were packed with amazing sights and a constant education in Indian culture. Our guide was always full of explanations and stories.  Aside from the fact that while riding the bus it was a challenge just to blow your nose without breaking it in the effort  – writing while riding would have been completely impossible.  Did, however, try to take pictures while bouncing…


It is written, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step (or - watch out, camels spit, or something like that) and a trip to India is no different.  The first couple days spent getting to India I did not journal, so I am simply recounting from memory here.  We began by driving an hour or so to the small airport, located in upstate South Carolina, that was the take off point for our first flight.  From there it was a relatively short two hour flight, give or take, to Dallas/Fort Worth.  After a three hour or so lay-over, the next flight was about nine hours to London – got to watch several of the movies I've wanted to see but had not yet done so, among them Red, the latest Narnia movie, and True Grit – tried to watch Black Swan but it was just too painful.  The transfer in London to the next flight was a matter of disembarking, working our way across the airport, then straight onto the next 747 for another nine-hour flight to Delhi.  Do not pass go, do not collect $100.  Every flight was reasonably smooth – no real problems, all the luggage present and accounted for at our final destination.  The sort of flight experiences that would make a first timer think world travel is a breeze.  Except for passport control in Delhi that is.  Not that it was super painful, we have certainly experienced worse – but after about a day and a half of travel since leaving our home, dealing with the extra slow pace of the Indian life style took a gargantuan effort and constant repeating of the mantra “I will be patient and keep my sense of humor.”   We just wanted to find the man in front of the airport with the OAT (our travel tour group) sign and be taken to our hotel - waiting for the painfully slow man - Mohammad no less - with the thinning hennaed hair to work his way through our three passports and visas was excruciatingly frustrating. 



We had arrived at about midnight and were met by our tour leader, Karni, who sheparded the lot of us to the bus that would be our chariot for the next two weeks.  Our group of travel companions was comprised of sixteen people: the three in our family – two teachers from California who were traveling together (one an art teacher, the other a Spanish teacher) – two other older women from California traveling together (one a retired middle school science teacher, the other a retired nurse) – an older couple from Arizona (though they were older, they were newlyweds – very cute) – another older couple from Texas ( well, she is from Texas, he is a Brit) – four women from the Bronx ( actually, three are from Jamaica and the other is from Cuba – but they all live in the Bronx now and they were all fun to travel with) – and a lady from Cary, NC (near Raleigh).



The ride across Delhi began our emersion in Indian culture.  We had arrived during some festival (there are always festivals going on – with thousands of gods and goddesses there is always something to celebrate…) for some goddess or other and every night it was pulling  in thousands and thousands of people from the surrounding countryside  to Q up for a blessing by some holy man in a temple just off the highway.  Never saw the temple but saw the thousands of people – women brightly dressed in their most sparkly saris, children in their frilly best.  Karni told us they would be in line all night to finally get their blessing and head home just in time to begin a busy day of work.  It is impossible to explain how thickly the people were packed in the lines that stretched miles in every direction.  No pictures were taken at this point.  We were all brain numbed, bordering on catatonic – plus it was night and we were bouncing on the bus for the first time.  Did not even occur to me that I should try to dig out the camera.

We finally arrived at our hotel around 1 am and were greeted with our first taste of hotel security – magnetometers, bags through scanners, yadda yadda – then our first yellow dot between the eyes and a lei of marigolds draped around each of our necks, our first welcome drink served to us by a turbaned young man from a silver tray.  This first hotel was very nice, beautiful really – but most importantly to us at that time, it had nice clean beds ready and waiting. 


Stay tuned for our first Indian breakfast and the beginning of our action packed days of hilarity and peril - have you ever heard about the way they drive in India? OMG!  just sayin'


patti
From Laura at Fetch My Flying Monkeys.




At the moment I'm missing Ireland and all my many Irish friends - been a few years now.
patti
patti
Why does this song always make me cry?  It grabs something in my gut....



God keep them safe today.

 I hate horse racing, I really do.  Especially racing three year olds.  They are still babies, still developing.  Scores of horses are ruined for life for every successful race horse.  Many die in the pursuit of the finish line - due to the injuries sustained or the stresses of the sport.  But I have to watch this race every year - holding my breath - knowing the power in those heaving chests and the burning desire between those ears.

Excuse me now - I'm headed to the barn to play with my fiery mare.


UPDATE:
ArchArchArch was 15th after starting on the race and provided a scary moment as veterinarians were forced to load the thoroughbred into the ambulance after the race. He appeared to come up lame as the derby was ending, and was diagnosed with a lateral condylar fracture. While any injury in horse racing is not good, ArchArchArch's is not life-threatening.


patti
Yes, I am very glad UBL is dead - and Hell Yeah SEAL Team Six (regardless of whatever name they use for you now, you are who you are)!

But from the beginning I have not felt particularly celebratory.  Just satisfied that he finally got his - or more to the point is finally getting his because I do in fact believe vengeance is within the purview of God and right now justice is being meted out far more appropriately than any of us mere mortals could ever dream up.  UBL will writhe in hell for all eternity - praise the Lord.

And of course I am proud of the SEAL team that got in and out without a single casualty among them (excepting the helo of course), tango dead, mission accomplished and very little co-lateral damage done.  They did their job and did it well - no wasted movement, no wasted lead.

However, I find myself typically disgusted by the words, expression, and behavior of Bam-bam since he first stepped out to make his "I got him" speech.  I find myself typically pleased with the quiet dignity that has been Bush's behavior.  No "look at, me" from W - no going to stand at Ground Zero in order to politicize and capitalize on the closing of one of America's most painful chapters.

I noticed Monday morning, as I watched the taped celebrations on Sunday night in NYC and in front of the White House, that every face I saw - every one - was college age, and I'm thinking they are not celebrating what we think they are.  They are not celebrating the death of UBL or the success of the SEAL team - as they chant U-S-A they are not celebrating the country that gives them the right to rant in the streets pretty much any time they want about pretty much anything they want.  They are celebrating what they think is a victory for Obama.  They are celebrating because they think they will be able to rub this event in the face of conservatives as the 2012 election looms.  They are celebrating because they think this will make Obama unbeatable in that election.   These kids hate the military and hate our involvement in the war on terror.  These are the same kids that protested everything Bush tried to do to bring UBL to justice, the same kids who protest the "enhanced interrogation methods" that enabled UBL's death.

Now yes, I also saw the celebration at West Point - but I'm pretty sure those kids were indeed celebrating the triumph of our military - not the O.

When sober adults are pictured or questioned or when I read the comments of adults on my favorite blogs I'm finding almost all feel like I do.  Grateful, satisfied, relieved - but not joyous.  The death of UBL does not bring back even one of the 3,000 lost - not one of our military lost in the last nine and a half years - and it does not end the threat of terrorism.  In fact - for the near future it probably increases our risk.  Every family member of one lost on 9-11 that I have seen interviewed has likewise been sober, in some cases tearful, as they come to terms with the fact that UBL's death does not bring any solace or balm to their pain - their loved one is still lost to them until such time as they meet in the next life.

We can certainly hope the wealth of intel that should be gleaned from hard-drives, thumb drives, and whatever else was hauled out of the hidey hole will lead to many more deaths and much more destruction of the evil organization that is radical Islam.  We can certainly hope that intel will foil many a future plan for mischief and mayhem.  But if Bam-bam blithers dithers hims and haws about the way he did in the eight or nine months since we have known where UBL was - the roaches will scurry for cover and all that will be for naught.

It is my expectation, based on two and a half years of observation - that blithering, dithering - considering, thinking - and then voting present is exactly what the arrogant One will do. Disgusting.
patti
Thank you Toby Keith, you pretty much said it as well as it can be said. 


 Went to bed early last night, seriously in the grips of jet lag and trying to recover quickly, so I missed all this last night.  But at 5 am I was up and checking facebook to find that Hell Yeah, Special Forces finally shot that evil between the eyes.  HooRah!






My daddy served in the army 
Where he lost his right eye 
But he flew a flag out in our yard 
Until the day that he died 
He wanted my mother, my brother, my sister and me 
To grow up and live happy 
In the land of the free. 

Now this nation that I love 
Has fallen under attack 
A mighty sucker punch came flyin' in 
From somewhere in the back 
Soon as we could see clearly 
Through our big black eye 
Man, we lit up your world 
Like the 4th of July 

Hey Uncle Sam 
Put your name at the top of his list 
And the Statue of Liberty 
Started shakin' her fist 
And the eagle will fly 
Man, it's gonna be hell 
When you hear Mother Freedom 
Start ringin' her bell 
And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you 
Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue 

Justice will be served 
And the battle will rage 
This big dog will fight 
When you rattle his cage 
And you'll be sorry that you messed with 
The U.S. of A. 
'Cause we'll put a boot in your ass 
It's the American way !!!!!

Hey Uncle Sam 
Put your name at the top of his list 
And the Statue of Liberty 
Started shakin' her fist 
And the eagle will fly 
Man, it's gonna be hell 
When you hear Mother Freedom 
Start ringin' her bell 
And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you 
Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue
patti


As I said last post - the boy now rows crew. At thirteen he is one of the youngest two on the team.  Yesterday was another regatta - it is sprint season. My boy was scheduled to row in four events.

 Unlike last week's regatta, yesterday the sun was shining and the sky was beautifully blue.  The whole regatta was started about half an hour early and the officials were really trying to keep things moving briskly in an attempt to get as many events run before the expected high winds made racing too dangerous.

 The day began very well for our team - Men's varsity 8 won by more than two lengths, women's 8 pulled ahead at the very last to win by a little less than half a boat length.  Men's Novice 8 (my boy's first scheduled race of the day) won by so much that my picture of his boat coming across in the last quarter of the race doesn't even have another boat in it.

                                   

                                           

Men's varsity four came in second and a couple women's fours won their races as well...

 But.... OMG the wind.  There was a point, early in the afternoon, at which quite a few of the boats had gone out to the start point for several upcoming races - sprints are 2K so though we could see glimmers off the boats from the start area, we really couldn't see the boats as the launch area/parent tents/viewing areas are all at the finish end of the race course.  But back to the point, many boats had gone out, several heats/races worth, but all the boats were put in a holding pattern and none of the races were starting due to the wind.  

Here our two men's novice fours are launching, the boy is there seated in the front of the boat on the right - he was "stroke" for this boat.  You can see the coxswain sitting in front of him with what looks like a headband going around her hair.  The band is what holds the microphone for her communications system.

Was getting a bit bored waiting for boats to begin racing back, so I started snapping pictures of a few of the doggie spectators.  Didn't take the corgis to this regatta as our hotel this time was not dog friendly. 

Isn't he grand?  There was another Dane there as well, a 2 year old fawn female, but I didn't get a picture of her.

                   This white Shepard appeared to be team mascot for one of the University crews.

Australian Shepard puppy, she was there with some of the Clemson Crew.

                         This little girl is Edi, she was seven pounds of very cold and very sweet mutt.

There were several other dogs but after snapping these, things got a little exciting.

A couple of the races actually started but then all of a sudden several security boats motored rapidly away toward the start area and people begin getting phone calls - a murmur began to ripple through the crowd - boats swamped by the waves - boats flipped (with kids in them).  The boy was out there somewhere on his boat...  First word was neither of our fours was flipped - but they were taking on water from over the sides.  Then yes, one of ours was flipped.  Finally the boat with my kid on it rowed in, full of red faced young men and water.  Parents must not go down to the docks so we waited for the boys to bail enough water to be able to lift the boat and start out.  Meeting them along the way I asked if he was OK, his face was beet red and there was a look of panic in his eye.  He said yes, we was fine, but he was worried about the other boat (read, his friends in the boat).
Here the boys are preparing to lift the boat back out - notice adults staring off into the lake on the left There were several teams of kids out there on the water beyond our ability to see, swimming instead of rowing - some of them ours...The young man in the back who looks like he is about to wack someone with his oar is mine.

 Shortly after the first boat was hauled back to the trailering area a launch arrived with our other team of kids - but the brand new  multi-thousand dollar team boat was somewhere beneath the waves...

These are the conditions the kids were dealing with...

Those long - low - skinny boats don't do well in that chop, especially with kids in them.  Most especially with novice kids.  We had four boats out at the time - the two novice "mens" 4 boats and two novice "women's" eights.  This was to have been the maiden race for some of those novices.  We are talking true babes on the waves.  The coxswain for the boat that flipped actually dove under the boat to retrieve the "cox box" - electronic communication equipment - some very tough babes on the waves!

Needless to say, at this point the Regatta was over.  High wind advisory was to continue for hours and there were wet kids to retrieve and warm up, boats to be searched for, etc.

All the kids were really upset about the loss of the boat.  Of course parents and coaches were just relieved to have all kids safe and accounted for.  Thankfully, sometime later, a team from Clemson (hosts of the race) came in on a launch to let our coach know our missing boat had been located and hauled to the shore of the lake.... onto a golf course.  So once all the other boats were de-rigged and loaded for the ride home, we all convoyed over to the golf course to retrieve the wayward Fred & Ellie.  Racing shells being hauled across a golf course by a slew of teen boys is not a scene witnessed everyday.

Just look at that beautiful deceptive sky.

In spite of the shortened race - enough events had been completed to actually call it a regatta and tally points.  This regatta had high point awards for junior men's/women's/ and teams in addition to the collegiate divisions.

Our team took all three high point honors for the junior division.

The regatta also tallied points for over-all high point awards - all the teams combined.

 Our team took all three of those too.  Can you say sweep? 

 I think this qualifies as a successful regatta.  The kids all learned some very valuable life skills for dealing with adversity (again).  Between last week's electrical storm and this week's high winds - these may be some of the toughest novices ever!  In both races it was our novice boats out on the water when all hell broke loose.  Some of the kids still have not actually gotten to race.

My novice boy? The one race early in the day was the only one he got to complete this time.
His novice eight team mates with their medals (he is far left with the black tobaggon on).  This was his second race ever.  


The whole team with Head Coach and his wife on the left and sculling coach on the right.  The boy is back there with one hand on the trophy in the very back, but he is too short and hidden by all the other boys - it was more important to him that he be touching a trophy than that he been seen I guess.  There are three trophies to be found if the picture is embiggened with a click.

Oh, and that panicked look in his eye when he was worried about his team mates in the water?  On the way home I learned why he was so frightened for them.  The night before, at dinner, he and I had shared a table with another boy's family - this boy is a senior and has been on the team all four years since its founding.  Anyway, the father was telling us a story about a sculler last year who had rowed over a gator during a race flipping her boat and dumping her into the lake with the gator - a security launch instantly motored over to scare off the gator and collect the rower.  My boy thought that had happened at this same venue - so he thought those five kids were swimming with the gators.  But no, that was much further south.  Maybe next time he'll listen better.  Ha.
patti
Things are busy.  Too busy to post.  I'm still lurking about the edges of all your blogs - even when I don't comment, but there is just too much to do right now to post and the world conditions are either too depressing or changing too fast to comment on and all of you do a better job with that sort of thing than I do anyway...

So here is my take on a random list of things going on in the world, my life, and to come in the near future.  To be read as excuses for not blogging...

1) Closing in on the end of the school year for the boy.  This means testing, wrapping up various areas of study, cramming in a few new areas of study, trying to get him to write a decent sample to use when we take him in a month or two to register for high school.  Erg.

2) The boy is now rowing crew - I don't think I've shared that with any of you.  This means he now has practice at least four days a week (sometimes five) and the occasional regatta.  The regatta this past weekend was a soggy, electricity filled disappointment.  The coach decided after three heats (in which all three of our participating boats qualified for the final) - after sending three more boats (one containing my son who is terrified of thunderstorms) about 3K down the lake for the next race only to have all the boats have to beat it all the way back as fast as possible due to frequent close lightening, after waiting another two hours for the storm to stop (which it didn't) - that we needed to pack up and head home before the whole team succumbed to hypothermia.  Good call on his part...

When corgis, who have a dense undercoat and nearly waterproof outer coat, are wet and cold - it is indeed weather not fit for man nor beast.


3) Rosalie has continued to have a slight limp since her surgery 15-16 months ago so last week we loaded up and went back down the mountain to her vet.  X-rays show that her front hoof degenerative  bone disease has not gotten any worse - thank God.  Therefore the problem is now in her hocks (the backward elbows of the hind legs) - basically the wearing away of cartilage that happens in athletes human and animal.  Steroidal joint injections and a stronger anti-inflammatory are now the rule of the day.  We shall see, but the vet is hopeful that Rose will be able to return to the show ring soon :)


4) I stand with Israel

5) I've been working out a lot - except for the last few days after the race.  Old lady bones cold and wet are not in a hurry to get back on the elliptical.

6) What happened to the spring weather?  Things were going so well.

7)  The nephew helped me get two whole dump truck loads of mulch spread.  The yard looks pretty good right now.  In four weeks or less it will be a mess again so I stop in the drive and just look at it all every time I come home... for now.  The view will have to carry me through the summer.

8) Hey Nancy Pelosi - I thought you would call the Arabs and tell them to drop the price of oil!  At least that is what you said you'd do back when Bush was president and the price of gas went through the roof.

9)  Hey Bambam - President Blueberry - Big 0... How the hell does one stop a humanitarian disaster without removing the source of the disaster?  If all we are doing is protecting the civilian population from Q'Daffi Duck - does that mean we are going to be there until he dies of natural causes?  Because I'm here to tell you, the minute we leave, if he or his offspring are still alive, they will wipe out every single person they think was involved in the uprising.

10) I've told a few of you my niece was studying abroad in Japan when the earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear disasters struck.  She is home now - well back at school in Michigan anyway.  All the students were forced to leave Japan.  She was pretty angry about being forced to leave but the fact is, the Japanese have enough to deal with right now.  They don't need a bunch of spoiled American college kids with litigious minded parents to worry with right now.

11) I still stand with Israel.

12) Working on the logistics for a large future event is taking much time and energy - details on cryptic comment will come in about a month...
patti


God bless this man and his family - God grant me courage like his...

He has been assassinated for standing up for God and his people.

Read the story HERE...