Air Force Memory

If it moves, salute it; if it doesn't move, pick it up; and if you can't pick it up, paint it. ~ Unknown

I am a proud veteran of the United States Air Force.

I was sitting at my desk. I was going over the Catholic Fund receipts and dutifully making the necessary new entries. Deb, a co worker walks over to my desk and pulls on the sleeve of my shirt. She nods her head twice with her eyes moving toward the door. She left the room. I made my exit shortly thereafter. In a conspirator like whisper she says: “You have GOT to come see this!” I followed her to the Sanctuary and there before our eyes was a Chaplain. He was a Full Bird Colonel in his dress blues. He was jumping from pew to pew waving the Christian flag at a bird that had made its way into the Church. He was trying to usher the little fellow out.

He caught us looking and said to me: “There are really only three types of people in this world: Those who make things happen, those who watch things happen, and those who say, "What happened?" Now would you be so kind as to turn on the fans?” I flipped the fan switch and the bird went flying up into the fan, bounced off, and went flying down between the rows of pews. The Colonel put the flag back in place and came to where I was. I found a bulletin in a Bible and scooped the poor bird onto the bulletin. His days of flying had come to a definite end. It was then I realized how profusely the Colonel was sweating. He must have been after this bird for quite some time. He was bald on the top of his head and the sweat just glistened. He had this habit of dabbing it away with tissues.

He told me to bring the bird and follow him. I followed the Colonel back towards the front offices. He grabbed some tissues from a desk and dabbed at the sweat and left the tissues on top of his head in a little white pile. He knocked on Father Ryan’s door. The Colonel said: “Father, Father, come quickly one of your relatives has died!” The Colonel brought the Priest over to where I was still holding the bird. The Priest was a Lt. Colonel and he began reading the bird last rites.

The Chaplains do counseling sessions with the people from their congregations. It just so happened that they both had an appointment that day at that hour. Here we are huddled together, praying for this bird, the Colonel with his wad of tissues on his head, the Priest waving his arms around and going through the last rite ritual. Father ended the ceremony in latin with: "Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat ei. Requiescat in pace. Amen."

The people who came for counseling just gaped at the scene. I think they may well have been in the “What happened?” group. Or possibly the, "We are going to let these nuts counsel us?",group.

Deb quickly intervened and said the Colonel’s will be with you shortly. They finished the ceremony and took their appointments.

I was left holding the bird. I found a box and placed it carefully inside. Later I took it to a taxidermist and had it stuffed. I presented the little fellow to the Colonel at his retirement ceremony. This was a good day!

Ireland

Always remember to forget the things that made you sad. But never forget to remember the things that made you glad.



Old Irish Blessing
May God bless those who love us.
And for those who don't love us, may God turn their hearts.
And for those whose hearts cannot be turned,
May God turn their ankles
So that we may know them by their limping.


They arrived by automobile from a location unknown. The group entered a pub and had a drink. The town was small, surely the hotel was not far from their present location. John, not wanting to interrupt the wonderful time his companions were having by taking an offered lift,decided to leave the company of his friends and walk back to his hotel.

Upon exiting the pub John looked around. He realized he was not exactly sure where he was or in what direction the hotel might be. He stood perplexed for a moment. A man strolled up to him and asked if he could be of assistance. "Yes,I would like directions to reach the hotel where I am staying."replied John. The man quickly replied "Which way are you heading then?" John is stunned into silence and unable to speak. His thoughts were, well, if I knew which way to head I would not be in need of directions. Being a man who could think quickly, and considering the possibility that this gentleman may be mentally impaired or inebriated, he decided the best way to rid himself of this helpful individual is just to say right or left or perhaps north or south and seek instruction elsewhere. John replied "Right." The man proceeded to give him exact directions to where he needed to go. John headed off for the hotel and discovered the directions were dead on. The Irish are a strange lot he thought. I wonder what he would have said if I had told him left? The next day John picked up a map and realized he could have gone left or right to reach his hotel. One route may have been a tad more circuitous but he could arrive at his destination either way. The man would have given precise directions if he had decided to go left instead of right.

My Dad told me that story when he returned from his trip to Dingle. This was one of his many wonderful experiences when he was across the pond visiting Ireland.

You can reach your destination from many different directions. When I have time I prefer the scenic route.



May your glass be ever full. May the roof over your head be always strong. And may you be in heaven a half an hour before the devil knows you're dead.

Childhood Memories

Memory is a child walking along seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things. ~Pierce Harris

There are so many thoughts that float through my head. I know people will see these as small and insignificant. These thoughts are the ones that I have not shared. They are personal and not really conversation material. I have kept them inside. I have not talked about events or things from my past.

You know about that assumption thing right? I assumed my childhood memories are remembered by all of those present in my childhood. I think everyone has a place inside them where they keep these memories.

A small thing or act that I remember so clearly is not visible to the rest of the world. I am a Daddy’s girl I have no doubt about that. I loved every moment I could spend with my Dad. If it was following him around the yard while he dusted the roses or putting the horsemeat out to thaw in the big sink in the laundry room for Roberick, our dog, I was on his heels.

I loved when the bank statement came in the mail. This was the day I got to draw lines on the little white pads with the protractor. I was in charge of sorting the checks in numerical order so my Dad could reconcile the check book. I also stuffed, licked, and sealed the outgoing bill envelopes. I got to lick the stamps! I remember how important I felt. I was doing something useful and helpful.

I took tennis lessons to try and become a better tennis player. I loved to play tennis with my Dad. The problem was he had this ace serve. I am certain not even Billie Jean King could have returned that ball! I never did learn how to serve the ace but I sure had fun playing. I always wondered how my brother fared playing golf with him, I never asked.

I followed my Dad to the basement to check the water; he tested the water carefully and added chemicals to the chlorinator when the test did not give him a satisfactory result. Sometimes I would help him sort nuts, bolts, and washers into the little glass baby food jars on his workbench.

My brother, Mark, had a train set in the basement. My Dad and Mark built a train table with care. I used to make buildings for Mark. There were these plastic sticks that snapped together. On the plastic sticks were nubs where you could snap on these plastic pieces that looked like windows. I have not seen this kind of building set since. I don’t know what it was called. It was fun! My brother simulated train wrecks and tied little people to the track sometimes. He would laugh and play for hours!

My brother used to scare me with these large, black, fake, plastic spiders. I remember coming up the basement steps and seeing one on the wall. I laughed and laughed and reached out to grab it. It scurried up the wall and I was so scared. My heart fell into my stomach and how fast my laugh turned around on me. I was very careful from that day forward in picking up his plastic spiders.

Bra,Bra,Bra

I was the first woman to burn my bra - it took the fire department four days to put it out. ~Dolly Parton

I have received mail on the bra subject from a great number of people. I have compiled them together for this post.


David walked into the ladies department of Macy's. He shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said, "I'd like to buy a bra for my wife."
The woman asked, "What type of bra?"
David replied, "Type? There's more than one type?"
"Look around,” said the saleslady. David saw a sea of bras in every shape, size, color and material imaginable.
"Actually, even with all this variety, there are only four types of bras to choose from."
Relieved, David asked about the types.
The saleslady replied, "There are the Catholic, the Salvation Army, the Presbyterian, and the Baptist types. Which one would you prefer? "
Now David is totally befuddled and asks what the differences between them are.
The Saleslady responded, “It is all really quite simple...
The Catholic type supports the masses.
The Salvation Army type lifts the fallen,
The Presbyterian type keeps them staunch and upright, and
The Baptist makes mountains out of mole hills. "


What do you call a Stone Age Bra?
Over Shoulder Boulder Holder




Have you ever wondered why A, B, C, D, DD, E, F, G, and H are the letters used to define bra sizes?
If you have wondered why, but couldn't figure out what the letters stood for, it is about time you became informed!
(A) Almost Boobs...
(B) Barely there
(C) Can't Complain!
(D) Dang!
(DD) Double dang!
(E) Enormous! ! !
(F) Fake.
(G) Get a Reduction.
(H) Help me, I've fallen and I can't get up!


A man goes to buy his wife a bra. He found the one he wanted and pointed it out to the saleslady. “What size would you like that in?" asks the salesperson.
"6-7/8", replied the man.
"6-7/8? What kind of a size is that?” asks the salesperson.
The man replied, "Well, I measured her with a hat"


From across the pond I was informed I forgot the German Bra.
I asked her what kind it was and she replied,”Holtzemfromfloppen”

What Flower Are You?

Where flowers bloom so does hope. ~ Lady Bird Johnson

I Am A Lily

You are a nurturer and all around natural therapist. People see you as their rock. And they are able to depend on you. You are a soothing influence. You can make people feel better with a few words. Your caring has more of an impact than even you realize.

Click on the question below to find out what kind you are.

What Flower Are You?

Philadelphia

“Our days are happier when we give people a bit of our heart rather than a piece of our mind.” -author unknown

I hope everyone had a great weekend! Today begins another week. Don’t you just love Monday’s? Joe’s last day of school was Friday. His summer vacation has officially begun. I remember when I was his age and how excited I was for the summer sun and fun.


My Dad always made sure our summers were wonderful. They were filled with weeks of camping, and later spent in a house he had built in Avalon New Jersey. My Dad worked during the week and spent the weekends with us. I looked forward to the weekends. We went sailing, skiing, fishing, and spent time on the beach and the boardwalk. Life was grand!

Summer was also a time when my Dad would take me to work with him in the city. In a family with four children going away alone with my Dad was very special. My Dad had a Datsun 240Z. The car was awesome! Before the Z we always rode in station wagons or sedans. This was not a family car, this was cool! I loved to ride with him. We sped to the city weaving in and out of traffic. My Dad is an expert driver. When we first started to drive together, I put my hand on top of his as he changed the gears. Later he let me change the gears for him, I just loved it! When we arrived in center city Philadelphia the first order of business was to find a parking space. We started at the closest parking garage to his office. We zipped up and down the car garages looking for a place to park. I loved the zipping even though my Dad would get a little frustrated. It was like twirling around. It felt like a dance. Finally we find a spot to park. My Dad would look at his watch to check the time again. Promptness is so important. My Dad is a disciplined and responsible man. He has good character and ethics. I would be terrified if I ever had to go to the city alone. With one hand on his briefcase and the other hand in mine I was not afraid at all. I had to run walk to keep pace and that was fun. My Dad has a long and sure stride. I loved walking with him. I spent the day in his office. Cordella, his secretary would give me some things to do. I liked playing secretary and dreamed of being his secretary when I grew up. There was no better place to be than with my Dad. If we had time my Dad would hail a cab and we would go somewhere for a long lunch and a walk in the park. Sometimes he would buy me a pretzel from a street vendor.


When he did not have much time we had lunch across the street at the hospital. They had ice milk at the hospital and my Dad and I love ice milk. After the work day was done we would zip back to the suburbs where our home was. I had so many wonderful days with my Dad. Whenever I had to leave my Dad it was with reluctance. When my Dad had to leave for work I was a tad sad. On the days I could be with him I was a proud and happy little girl. I cherish the memories from my wonderful childhood with a wonderful man.

From my Dad I learned to appreciate the beauty in life. Even though we are many miles from each other I still know my Dad. He is with me always in thought and in spirit in all that I am and all that I have become. I have aspired to be like him in life and in love. I hope that I am to my children as wonderful a parent as he is to me. Thanks Dad.

Sunday May 21, 2006

"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power and love, and self-control."
2 Timothy 1:7