ON BEING THANKFUL FOR BLESSINGS LARGE AND SMALL

I just saw an article on the home where John and Jacqueline Kennedy spent part of their honeymoon.  The house is now for lease at $600,000 per month – or, for the big spenders, for sale at $115 million in case you are interested and happen to have an extra few million you don't know what to do with. The 50,000-square-foot Beverly Hills mansion includes 29 bedrooms, 40 bathrooms, two guest houses and a separate apartment.  As I was reading about the house,  I was giving thanks that I didn't have to clean all those bathrooms.  Or can you imagine having to vacuum all those bedrooms.  And how about all the other rooms.  The dusting and the mopping and the waxing.  Do you realize how big 50,000 square feet is?  That's bigger than a football field.  So on this day,  I am thankful I don't live in this house. 

So often we wish for bigger things.  A bigger house or a bigger car.  A bigger  paycheck and a bigger bank account or a bigger shop in our bigger back yard.  We are always searching for the bigger or the best  or the most powerful.  As I was thinking about all this I began to wonder why?  Why do we always want something bigger?  When Peggy and I got married she still lived in the same house she lived in when she was born.  Her father had bought that house when he got out of the army after WW II.
He told me he paid $1800.00 for the house and his payments were $13.00 a month.  He often talked about lying awake at night wondering how in the world he would ever pay for that house.  He was afraid he had bought more house than he could ever pay for.  My father-in-law was a very successful man.  He started his steel company in his back yard and when he sold it and retired at 53 years old he employed around 70 people and his shop must have been around 70 feet X 175 feet.  At that time he still lived in the same house.  I once asked him why didn't he buy a bigger house.  He said he had thought about it,  but as he was pondering what to do he asked himself what he would want in his dream house.  He said he would want a house that would keep him warm in the winter.  A house that would keep him cool in the summer.  A house that would keep him dry when it rained and a house that wouldn't rule his life by keeping him deep in debt.  He said the more he thought about it the more he realized he had everything he wanted in his dream house in that little house in Socktown, so why would he want to move.  Once again as I was thinking about all this another thing my father-in-law would often say popped into my mind.  Someone once asked him why he always wore overalls.  Didn't he think people would be more impressed if he wore different clothes to work.  His response was that there was no one that he needed to impress.

I've said all of this to explain my thoughts as we come to this,  my 66th Thanksgiving.
I've learned that bigger is not always better and I'm thankful for this knowledge.  I've learned that there is nothing on this earth more important than family.  I've learned that no matter how big my house is,  how pretty my car is,  how much money I have or don't have,  I am loved by my family and for this I am thankful.  As I look back over my life I am thankful for things I seldom think about.  I am thankful my Dad taught me how to bait a fish hook and to take the fish off when I was lucky enough to catch one.  I'm thankful that he also taught me how to shake hands with another man and also with a lady.  I'm thankful that he also taught me that there are some words you don't say in the presence of a lady.  He explained there was no reason that you didn't say these words,  you just didn't.  I'm thankful my dad wasn't ashamed or embarrassed to tell me he loved me in front of others.  I'm thankful my Mom was always there when I got home from school.  I'm thankful she always had a meal on the table to eat and that she taught me to always tell the cook I enjoyed what I had just eaten.  I am thankful that at a young age I was taught to say please and thank you,  excuse me and yes sir and yes ma'am and no sir and no ma'am.  I am also thankful that neither of my parents ever told me I couldn't accomplish anything but were always there to encourage and support me.

I am thankful that I have a wonderful loving wife that has been and continues to be the backbone of our family.  I am thankful that she is a great cook and not just on thanksgiving but everyday.  I am thankful for the three children she has raised with me, as she has done a great job.  I could have never done it without her.  I am thankful when I write a blog and she always tells me how good it is when I know it wasn't one of my best.  I am thankful when the phone rings and the caller ID says it's one of my children and not a salesperson.  I am thankful that my children live close by.  I am thankful when I feel the arms of my grandchildren wrap around my neck and I hear a little voice say..."I love you PaPa."

I am thankful when I walk out in the back yard each morning and my chickens come running toward me.  I am thankful when I open the cupboard and see fruit jars filled with the bounty from last years garden.  I am thankful for new buds on the trees and the first flowers of spring.  For the smell of a spring rain and the fragrance of a freshly mowed lawn.  I'm thankful for the song of the birds and the playfulness of the squirrels as they dance from tree to tree.  I'm thankful for the beautiful web of a writing spider and the wonderful masterpiece that God paints in the sky each day.

I am thankful that in the last few years I have found that I love to write and I am thankful that each day when I read the Atlanta Journal, that I find their writers and proof readers spell worse and know less about punctuation than I do so I don't feel so bad about those shortcomings..  I am thankful for the teachers that taught me to read and write.  For the ones that worked so hard to make sure I learned  things that I had no interest in learning because they knew that later in life I would be glad they had beaten these things into my hard head.  I am thankful for the coaches I had that taught me about winning with humbleness and losing with dignity.  About goals and character.  about pride and determination.  I am thankful for the friends I had years ago.  The ones that along with me didn't let school get in the way of our education.  Also the ones that kept a safe distance from me and my crew but kept us close enough that now,  in our later years we are closer that back then.

I am of course thankful for my God and my Savior.  I am thankful that I now have a better understanding from where all blessing flow.  I am thankful that although I still make mistakes, He is quick to forgive me.  I am thankful that He does provide my daily bread and that in time of need He comforts me.

I could go on and on.  I could write page after page and still I would leave someone or something out for which I am thankful .  For you see,  today I am thankful for the good times and the bad.  For the bountiful times and the times of drought.  For good friends and yes...even for my enemies.  I am thankful because these things and these people are what and who my God has used to create me.  And He is not through.  I am still a work in progress.  Makes no difference if I have known you for 65 years or 1 month,  God is using you in my life.  He is using you to make me a finished product.  And you know what?  He is using me to help complete you.  What a wonder God is.  So you see,  I don't need the football size house in Beverly Hills.  I don't need the big car and the giant bank account.  I am rich beyond measure.  For as the old song says:

He owns the cattle on a thousand hills,
The wealth in every mine;
He owns the rivers and the rocks and rills,
The sun and stars that shine.
Wonderful riches, more than tongue can tell -
He is my Father so they're mine as well;
He owns the cattle on a thousand hills -
I know that He will care for me.

Yes my friend  I am a rich.  I have no need to impress any man.  And for this....I am very thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving,  God bless you and your family and as Mama would say,  "Don't forget to say thank you."

YOU MAY BE RIGHT....I MAY BE CRAZY......

"You may be right....I may be crazy....But it just may be a lunatic you're lookin for".......Once again comes the morning and once again I find myself up early, searching the web and reading facebook and once again I find that this feeble mind of mine starts to move. Yes, it is official, this mind still moves but sometimes I think that I, along with many others, have become the subject of the line above made famous in a song by Billy Joel. "We may all be crazy."

This morning I was reading a link that my beautiful niece, Briana Caldwell, and before you ask, I'm not crazy about this, she is beautiful,  posted to her facebook page.  This article was about the Braves moving to Cobb County. Well, I for one don't care where the Braves move or if they move or not. Oh sure, I like the Braves, and I watch them on TV all the time unless I have something more important to do like put highlights in my hair or go outside, sit in a chase lounge, and watch the chickens look for bugs to eat. Have you ever wondered how many bugs a chicken eats in a day or if the kind of bugs they eat has anything to do with how the egg taste?   Oh well, back to the Braves. In the article it said the Braves were going to move and build this new stadium because that the old antiquated stadium they play in now, "The Ted," needs updating.   UPDATING I SAY?   The Ted is 16 years old for God's sake !!!!!!!! I have underware 16 years old.....I guess this means I need to go through my sock drawer and look for holes and do some purging. Then I thought to myself, "Be patient Wes.   Hear them out....They may have a point," so I read on. The Brave officials noted that if they stayed at the "TED" they would have to change the lights and replace the seats...... WHAT ??????????? CHANGE THE LIGHTS AND REPLACE THE SEATS? Half the time no one even sits in those seats and they only have the lights on about 3 or 4 hours at a time, 81 nights a year and it seems to me for what a hotdog and a coke cost, they could afford some new light bulbs.

By their reasoning I should have moved out of the old house years ago. I can just hear me explaining my move now. "Well yeah, we decided it was time to move, the hall and pantry light bulb needed changing and  the couch was dirty so we felt it was time to move on. Did we sell the old house you ask? Oh nooooo...It was 16 years old and had outlived it's usefulness so we just bulldozed it.  Where are we moving you ask?  We bought a new house one county over.  How much did we pay for the new digs you want to know?  Oh it was much more than we could afford but the neighbors are going to foot a very large part of the bill.  One of the neighbors said they would just forgo patching  that big hole in their driveway,  and  another said that their septic tank lines could wait another few years as the smell was only bad if the wind was blowing toward their house and the folks across the street were real nice.  They offered  dip into their kids college fund to help us out so we only had to pay about 10% of the cost.

We have become a throw away people. First there were throw away lighters, then throw away razors and throw away bottles. I can remember saving mayonaise jars for Mom and even Peggy to can vegetables in but now mayonaise comes in plastic jars so we just throw them away too. We have throw away paint brushes and if you think about it some people pretty much have throw away wifes and husbands and kids.   Of course to make us feel better we have changed the name from "throw away to disposable."   Even our money that we earn on our jobs we have separated into groups.  We have money we pay bills with and money we buy grocerys with and then we have "Disposable Income" which I assume is money we just throw away...............

And so now, the trend continues. We now have throw away stadiums. And who pays for these stadiums? Do the owners of these teams buy a piece of land with their own money and build the stadium with their own money and then put a good product on the field so the cutomers will pay for their great product or service?   Of course not....the owners go to the local government and say  "Build me a new house.  You know what I want.  A mansion of a house that I can throw away in fifteen or twenty years.  After all,  we all now that by then I will need a new stadium and  we also know that the government has an unlimited supply of  "Disposable Money."

I'm sure I could write another paragraph or two and incorperate Obamacare into the mix but I guess it's time to end this rant.  You see,,,,  today is thursday which is trash day.  I must roll the garbage can down to the street so the trashman can carry away the perfectly good trash bags that I  payed good money for.  So I will just say to you that you have been given this day.  It is not recyclable and can only be used once so make it count.  Some things we don't get a second chance at and some things just aren't disposable.

Have  a good one !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You may be right ...... I may be crazy....But it may just be a lunatic you're lookin for.......................................................

 

IT WASN'T SO LONG AGO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It wasn't long so ago..................
It wasn't long so ago when I would be excited about halloween being just around the corner. We would make a costume out of an old sheet or either go through Dads old clothes,  pick out the worst looking and most worn and mom would sew patches on them so we would look like an old bum or a Hobo.  We would put charcoal dust on our face for a special effect and off we would go.  We would gather with our friends in the neighborhood and with an old pillowcase thrown over our shoulder to hold our bounty,  off we would go.  We of course called it "trick or treat" but there was no reason to play a trick on anyone because every house would have a treat for us. Some houses had homemade treats tied up in little bags,  others had fruit and still others had store bought candy.  My favorite house to go to was always the big house at the end of the street that the "Ol  Maid  Sission Sisters" lived in.  I remember they would always place a shiny Silver Dollar in my bag,  which I would immediately fish out and deposit as deep as posible into the pocket of my jeans for safe keeping.  At the end of the night, I would take all of my candy home,  dump it out on my bed and pick out some of my favorite pieces to sample while making sure I had enough to ruin all my meals for at least two or three weeks.  I couldn't wait to get to school the next day to trade stories about our halloween night excursions with my classmates..........Yes,,,It wasn't so long ago............

It wasn't long so ago................
It wasn't long so ago that we would turn the page on the calander and it would be November.  November would mean a short vacation from school at the end of the month.  It would mean the beginning of colder weather.  The changing colors of the leaves and the task of raking them into piles as they fell to the ground.  I've often wondered how many times I raked the same leaves into a pile because as I remember, as soon as they were all piled up,  we would jump into the piles and scatter them all over the yard again, which of course meant they had to be raked up again.  November also meant High School Football games.  I was in what we called grammer school but my older sister, Dianne, was in High School and ever friday night we would bundle up and with Dad at the wheel we would head to Grady Stadium or Cheney Stadium to watch the Murphy Eagles do battle.  I can remember shoe polish messages being written on the back windows of all the cars imploring our team of blue and white to beat our opponents of the night.  And gosh at the crepe paper that was used.  Every car it seems was decorated in their school colors with streamers of crepe paper.  And then at the end of the month,  It was time for Thankgiving.  A time for everyone,   man and woman,  boy and girl to pause and give thanks.  To really ponder how blessed we were.  We would have a wonderful meal of turkey and dressing.  Of yams and green beans.  Of potatoe salad and cranberry sauce.  Of desserts so plentiful that the thoughts of them makes my mouth water still to this day.  But as good as the food was,  that's not what the day was about.  As nice as it was to have a couple of extra days off from school,,,,,,, that's not what the day was about.  As much fun as it was going to the UGA - Ga Tech Freshman game.....That's not what the day was about......It was about the blessings and the joys and family and friends that filled every other day of the year.  And it was about our fathers and grandfathers that had fought to give us this free land.  And it was not only about the men who had given so much of themselves for this purpose but also for the women,  the mothers and grandmothers that had "KEPT" this great country going while the men were away.  And it was about much more.  It was about many things that gave us pause to be thankful and fill out hearts with a fullness that I'm not gifted enough to express,  but if you were there,  you know what I'm trying to say.........................Yes....It wasn't so long ago............

It wasn't so long ago.......
It wasn't so long ago when we would once again turn the page of the calendar.  It was December now.  Winter was now here.  The coldness filled the air and in the mind of a child, the hope for a white Christmas.  This month would bring a longer vacation from school,  a full two weeks.  I couldn't wait for the Christmas Holidays to begin.  There was a special feeling in the air in December.  There were Christmas Parades and trips around the city to look at all the lights that were everywhere.  There was the lighting of the tree on the bridge at Rich's and a trip was always made to ride the "Pink Pig."   I can still smell the Cashews roasting as we would enter the doors at the Sears on Ponce De Leon.  I can still remember the excitement of wondering what Santa would leave under the tree.  But there was something else...yes.... something else.  There was the practicing for the Christmas play at school.  The play was always basically the same.  there was the manger.  There was Joseph and Mary.  There were the three wise men.  There was the Star in the East.  And of course there was the Baby Jesus.  The whole play was about the Baby Jesus.  Oh yes.  I remember it well.....There were other things going on.  There was once again family times.  There was decorating and going out to cut down a tree to place in the living room for the gift to be put under.  Ther were parties and get togethers, shopping trips and hours spent looking through the Sears Wish Book....but....but  In the end..."The whole thing was about the Baby Jesus............ And you know.........."And It Still Is"

Think back.....It wasn't so long ago !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HOW DO YOU SMELL? Just something to think about...............

Often times, for no apparent reason, my mind will for some unknown purpose go back into my past. This mind will hit on a subject that I have not thought about in years. This morning it was a bottle of body wash that pushed the start button on this wierd mind of mine. It was a bottle of AXE body wax. Peggy and I had been to the l...ocal Kroger and there on the "mark down" shelf were a bunch of bottles of Axe body wash. My son and grandsons often use this AXE creation but I had always used the old reliable Irish Spring because the smell was good and I liked the price much better than this bottled stuff they call body wash. But as I said they had marked the price way down so I thought I might as well give it a try. Just as a side note, If you use "body wash" have you noticed how much of this liquid gold you waste with each shower. I think half of the bottle goes down the drain without ever touching my body......Oh well,,,Back to my original point. All of this smell good stuff got me to thinking about the trouble and expense we go through to smell good. I can remember when I was very young all the men smelled the same....Old Spice.....Old Spice had a monopoly on the men fragrance market back then. As I approched the teen years, the corporate world learned that teens now had a little money of their own to spend so they might as well cut in on Old Spice's profit margin. Thus we were bombarded with new fragrances. The first I remember was English Leather and then Jade East. I could come up with some great line about why we had an English and an Oriental frangrance but we didn't have a "French Mens Cologne" back then, but I've decided to be nice this morning. Beside we all know you're suppose to bathe before you put on cologne. Anyway, it seems that from the time I was about 12 or 13, every year there has been a new fragrance for men come out and we were told this new or improved fragrance is the best new thing. Many of these new fragrances have been called "Musk" to make us think we will emit an odor the oposite sex can in no way resist. Of course the advertising companys are no dummys either as in their ads they will use a stallion or a big ol' buck deer instead of a skunk or an orangatan as the symbol of their wonderful new product. Yep....My mind spoke to me again and it told me a simple truth...."We have become obsessed with the way we smell." but my observation didn't stop there. Have you ever thought about the way you smell on the inside? HUH you say...What are you talking about you ask????? Well I'll tell you. It seems our focus is always on the outside. I like what Jesus said,
“Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye make clean the
outside of the cup and of the platter, but within they are full of
extortion and excess” (Matthew 23:25). So through all this thinking I have decided
it does not matter how good I smell on the outside if there is stench on
the inside. I want to focus on my inside and make it as fresh as
possible. I want my inside to smell good. That is the fragrance God smells.

Just something to think about !!!!!!!!!!!!!1

A RAINY DAY !!!!!!!!!!!!


Rainy days bring thoughts to the front of our minds. The rain slows down our whirlwind life and gives us pause to ponder how things are and maybe how they may have been. This new found slowness allows us to search for the reasons of our shortcomings and to place blame where blame should be.

Today I thought of a merchant years ago. He had been to a fair and had sold all of his wares. He had filled his pockets with lots of money. He then set out on his journey home for he wished to be in his own house before night.

At noon he came to a town and rested. When he was ready to travel on again, the stableboy brought his horse, saying:
"A nail is needed, sir, in the shoe of his left hind foot."
"Let it be," answered the merchant; "the shoe will stay on for the six miles I have left to go. I am in a hurry."

In the afternoon he stopped at an inn and had his horse fed. The stableboy came into the room to him and said: "Sir, a shoe is needed for your horse's left hind foot. Shall I take him to the blacksmith?"

"Let it be ," said the man; "the horse can very well hold out for a couple of miles more. I am in a hurry."

So the merchant rode on but before long the horse began to limp. He had not limped long before he began to stumble and he had not stumbled long before he fell down and broke his leg. The merchant had to leave the horse where he fell, unstrap his bag, take it on his back, and go home on foot.

"That darn nail," said the merchant to himself, "That is what has caused all this trouble."

As I set here in the rain today, I think of all the "darn nails" that have been in my life. If only I had listened to the stableboy more often.

Just something to think about on a rainy day.

THE PERSIMMON TREE


I walk slowly to the front door and stare out the window at the world God has placed in front of me.  It is indeed a beautiful day.  The thermometer says 87 degrees and the sun shining through the trees creates shadows that dance to a tune that is playing somewhere deep in my memory.  As I survey the green grass, something grabs my attention with a quickness that is surprising to a mind  as slow as mine has become.  What catches my eye are the leaves on the ground under the Persimmon Tree.  The Persimmon is called the fruit of the Gods and has a reputation of being very sour and making your lips pucker, but if you will wait until all the leaves fall from the tree,  the fruit becomes as sweet as anything.  The leaves are now falling from my Persimmon Tree and the ones on the ground have turned a beautiful golden yellow.  This is also a sign that it won't be long until fall.  That's right, I tell myself.  In the blink of an eye the summer of my 65th year will be gone.  When I say  "65 years"  it seems like a long time, but when I remember some things,  when I recall some memories and events,  it seems as if it was only yesterday when these things took place.  Monday will be August 12th.  On August 12,  1968,  my good friend Ken Blair lost his life in Vietnam.  Surely that wasn't 45 years ago but the calendar doesn't lie.  It was only four years before that  Ken and I had been down at the Georgia Tech Dome to watch the Georgia High School State Championship Basketball Game.  We had not a worry in the world.  Seems that it was only a couple of years ago.  And my daughters.  They can't be more than teenagers......  They just can't be!!!!!!!  It was only like a few months ago they were running around with their Cabbage Patch Dolls.  And the memory of Josh riding in the snow in his battery powered Big Foot truck.  That must have been last winter......  It can't be very long ago because the memory is too clear.

My eyes return to the Persimmon tree and I say to myself..."Be Patient....the fruit will be sweet in time."   What a lesson there is to be learned from this.  Time is the first gift God gives to each of us but for most of us, it takes most of our lifetime to learn how to use it.  A well known pastor was once asked what his most profound regret in life was:  His answer..."being in a hurry."  That's where I've lived most of my life......  "In a Hurry"  .... I've always been in a hurry it seems.  I was in a hurry to do this and do that.  I was in a hurry to grow up.  I was in a hurry to buy this and a hurry to learn that.  Now as I look back I was in a hurry because I thought I was saving time.  In reality by  living this way,  I managed to lose time,  never to be recaptured.  Think about it.....By hurrying our whole life,  we miss out on so much of life.  Sounds contradictory doesn't it but it's not.  By hurrying to save time you really lose time.  It took most of my life to learn this.

I'm now 65 and God has slowed me down.  I'm not in as good of health physically as I once was.  I have arthritis and bad knees.  I don't tell you all this for sympathy or pity.....OH No!!!!!!!......  I praise God for my ailments.  Oh sure I have some discomfort but nothing that is unbearable.   But you see, the benefits I receive because of what most people would call problems are unbelievable.    I can no longer hurry when I walk so I now have time to look at the beauty around me as I walk through my yard or stroll through the park.  I use to never really be aware of all that was around me.  Now when I go out to my shop or to feed the chickens,  it takes me twice as long as it use to and now I have time to  look at the wonders of His creation.  When I'm around my children and grandchildren,  I notice and hear things that use to just pass me by.  Last week we were in Mentone Alabama for the Worlds Longest yard Sale.  All of our children and grandchildren but one came up to spend the night.  The one had to work and couldn't come.  What a blessing it is to watch how they all get  along and how they watch out for each other.  Because of the closeness of Cindy and Vicki in age,  Peggy and I always said they raised each other and then when Josh came along they were older so it was like he had three Mamas.  Now I am so proud of the job all three are doing raising their own children.  There is a closeness and a love that I may not have seen a few years ago.  I was in to big of a hurry......

Yep...I'm 65 years old......You might say I'm in the fall of my life.  And if you say that, I can assure you that the leaves of the days and years of my life are falling to the ground as I enter my fall season.  And these leaves,  each and every one of them, are a beautiful  golden color and I count and admire and enjoy each and everyone that lays before me on the ground...... for you see,  I now have a new found patience, and as each leave touches the ground,  the fruits of this life become sweeter.  As sweet as anything.....  Now  I'm in a hurry no more for I have plenty of time....... I have plenty of time for you see..." I stand on the edge of eternity."

May God Bless you with a new  Patience.

AND YOU CALL THESE LITTLE BLESSINGS?


Yesterday my family met at my niece's house to thank God for the blessings He has bestowed on  us.  Even though we have done this before,  for some reason this time seemed different to me.  I had a really good time at Susan's house but after we left, my mind continued to think of the many blessings I receive from God and so often take for granted.  I guess you could say I had my very own little Thanksgiving Day in July.  I have decided to list some of the things I'm thankful for and in so doing, I hope to come back and read this list later,  maybe add to it,  and maybe I can even have my own little Thanksgiving Day in another inappropriate month,  say like September or January.  Anyway,  here goes:

First of all,  I "really" am thankful for this day.  It is a gift of God and it is given to me to use as I wish.  I just hope I will do something with it that will please the One that gave it to me.  I am thankful for the the green grass that cover the earth.  For the way it feels under my bare feet even though I'm not a child any more.  I am thankful for the comfort it gives my body as I lay down upon it and stare at the beautiful blue sky.  We have had artist that have painted masterpieces for hundreds of years but none that have ever exactly matched the perfect blue that God gave to the sky, and for this beauty I am thankful.  I'm even thankful for the clouds that spurred my imagination when I was a child.  These strange, ever changing masses of vapors,  that even to this day give me pleasure.  I thank God for His wisdom to include these in His world.   And as I continue to look up,  I am thankful for the rainbow,  for the colors that I see but mostly for the promise from God that it stands for.......Ohhhhhhh....The Blessed Assurance.

I'm thankful for the gentle rain and the cleansing smell it produces on a spring day.  Have you ever thought about being thankful for some of the smells we enjoy everyday?  Like the smell of a board as it is pushed through the table saw or the smell of a freshly mowed lawn.   Or of the fragrance of the Gardenia bushes when they are in full bloom.  And oh yeah,,,,,not to long ago I can remember smelling the freshly turn earth as I was preparing to plant my garden.  It was a wonderful odor that brought a smile to my face.  For these,  I am thankful.

I'm thankful for my family and yes,  many time I even take them for granted.  I'm thankful for when the phone rings and the caller I.D. says it's one of my children.  I don't like to talk on the phone for long periods of time but just the knowing that it is one of "mine" makes my heart flutter.  And this may sound  silly to some of you  but I am so thankful when one of our children or grand children are over and they just naturally go to the pantry or refrigerator to get something to eat or drink without asking.  I'm thankful that they consider our home their home.   And I'm not thankful when they leave but I am so thankful for the arms I always feel around my neck and the words of  "I love you PaPa" I hear as they walk out the door.  I'm so thankful to be loved.  And I'm thankful for a loving wife that knows the meaning of "family."   A wife that I enjoy being with and doing things with.  A wife that has a giving nature.  It doesn't hurt that she's a good cook too.  I'm thankful for my Sisters and brother-in-laws and nieces and nephews -in-laws and  great nieces and great nephews.  It is so wonderful to have a loving family.  I can feel God's hand upon us.

I'm thankful for my friends.  I'm thankful when I reconnect with a friend from long ago and discover that he or she is doing well.  I'm thankful that life has treated them good.  I'm thankful for a firm handshake from a man and the gentleness of a woman.  Call me old fashion if you want to.  You see,  I'm thankful I'm old fashion in some ways.  And when a family member or a friend passes away,  I'm thankful when I hear they were a believer,  a child of God, for you see ,,,, it makes me thankful I will someday reunite with them.  Yes once again..." Blessed Assurance."

Oh I could go on and on but I need to go out and check on my new chickens, ( for which I am also thankful for) and I don't want to completely bore you with my thoughts.  But as you finish reading this,  I ask you to  "Thank God for this day"  and if you are especially thankful for something,  share it with us.  I would love to hear your thoughts.  Why you ask?   Because you see.....I'M THANKFUL FOR YOU !!!!!!

May God continue to bless us all.

THE "COOP  D' VILLE"


On the television show Pawn Stars,  the Old Man sometimes uses the phrase "Some people's children" when talking about his son and grandson.  Sometimes I use the phrase "Some people's wives" when referring to my wife Peggy.  Most times her ideas are great.  Most times her ideas even bring me enjoyment.  In fact,  most of the time, I'm glad when she shares one of her ideas with me.  But then sometimes I just shake my head and say,  ( usually under my breath of course so she can't hear me, ) "some people's wives."   One of those times happened a few months ago when Peggy said to me......"We need to build a chicken coop."  Well I knew in this case "We"  meant "You" and I also wondered what we needed with a chicken coop.  So,  to find the answer to "Why do we need a chicken coop?"...I went to the reason for this question, which was Peggy.  Her answer made perfectly good sense when she answered   "To raise chickens.".......Hmmmmm I mumbled while scratching my bald head.  Then my second question was directed to myself......"Why do we want to raise chickens?"

I immediately told my wife,,,,, "I'm not gonna slaughter  any chickens."  Now don't get me wrong.  I love chicken.  Chicken is probably my favorite meat and if cooked properly is very healthy,  but if the Good Lord had want me to slaughter my own chickens,  He wouldn't have put a Kroger up on Hwy. 5.  She then informed me she just wanted hens so we would have fresh eggs.  As she mentioned fresh eggs my mind again started working in that weird way it sometimes does.  If you read back a couple of sentences,  you will notice I mentioned the word ...HEALTHY....Hmmmm I said.

As most of you know, a little over two years ago I had my heart rebuilt.  That's right.  My heart was reconstructed with four bypasses and a new valve.  A Pig Valve if you will.   The doctor told me I hadn't taken very good care of myself.  When he finished with my surgery and was about to send me on my way,  he told me I had been given a new lease on life and unless I was ready to check out of this place,  I needed to take a little better care of myself.  I had given cigarettes up a while back and hadn't  been much for alcohol for years but now I needed to put the pipe down and eat a little more healthy.  There's that word again ...Healthy....  Well, I did put the pipe away and for awhile I ate very healthy.  I had my weight down and was feeling good.  Then it happened.  I started going back for seconds.  One donut turned into two.  One scoop of ice cream turned into the whole pint.  Darn,,,,, food sure does taste good!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Then I realized I was headed down the wrong road again so I ask my doctor to set me up with a nutritionist.  This he did and once again things were going good.  Then,  as I stated earlier,  my wonderful wife has this great idea.  She wants a  "chicken coop".  Again I shook my head as I said to myself,  ( of course under my breath again )  "My Wife the Chicken Rancher".....Then,  as my mind was working' I thought,  "surely I can talk her out of this."  After all,  we hardly ever eat eggs any more.  You know..."the HEALTHY  thing.....eggs are full of  cholesterol.   Maybe she just needs a pet I thought.  I had asked her a while back if she wanted another dog.  She said she didn't as it would be hard to go anywhere over night because we would have to ask someone to feed it.   I know....we could get a herd of turtles.  They are maintenance free and I remember once my Uncle C. W. fed me some turtle and it tasted real good and I hear it's pretty healthy.  We could have a snake farm.  I once ate rattle snake and I even liked the taste of it.  Or even an ant farm.  They say ants are full of protein.  I once had an ant farm when I was a kid and it was no trouble at all until I dropped it and it broke and those little suckers went everywhere.  Mom had me walking around for a week with a can of Raid performing chemical warfare on my pets.  I became the Jeffery Dahmer of the ant world.  I think that's why I have a hard time even today killing anything.  Or how about a cat or two I thought and then I shook my head again.  NAWWWW I said to myself...I never really have liked cats but again I thought to myself...I do like Chinese.

Well,  once again Peggy got her way.  We built her a chicken coop.  Remember here, "when I say we, I really mean me".  Since we live in Douglasville we call it the  "Coop  D' Ville".   We haven't got us any chickens yet but maybe we will this week.  Peggy says we can give the eggs we don't use away.  We're just extended the acre plus farm.  All of our other animals are wild so domesticated chickens may be a pleasant thing to have around for awhile.  You see,  the birds we have eat all our cherries and blueberries.  The squirrels eat all the apples and pears.  The deer eat out of the garden and this year the rabbits have gotten fat on the beans.  I would love a good ol' pot of rabbit stew.  Well  at least the critters have let us have the tomatoes, cucumbers and peppers.   I guess we will have to buy the food for the chickens,  then I will have to learn the southern pronunciation of "guano".   As a young fellow I just called it chicken _______!   You can fill in the blank !!!!!!

SOME PEOPLE'S WIVES !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EULOGY AT THE FUNERAL OF AUNT FRANCIS

Isn’t God Good?

Today we come together to celebrate the life and the home going of Aunt Francis.

On Saturday morning at 1:30 AM, The Lord called to Aunt Francis and said welcome home my child. Job well done.

Some people would say, “Well I see you lost your Aunt Francis.”

I would reply “ No, Not at all.

You may lose your car keys or you may lose your billfold but we didn’t lose Aunt Frances.

You see….we all know exactly where Aunt Francis is.

Yes….God is Good.

When Marlene asked me if I would be willing to share some of my thoughts and memories about Aunt Francis at today’s service, I must admit that at first I was hesitant.

You see, I’m not a trained speaker and I’m a very emotional person.

I told Marlene I know I’ll get emotional. I know I will breakdown and cry.

So, if and when I breakdown…Don’t mistake my tears as tears of sadness….

OH NO…Don’t mistake my tears as tears of distress or despair.

The tears you see are tears of Joy…..You see…My heart overflows with joy at the memory of Aunt Francis.

Joy for the reunion that is happening in Heaven and joy for the life that has been lived on this earth over the last 100 years by a wonderful and loving lady..

If I close my physical eyes, my minds eyes open and take over what I see.

I feel a stillness.

I see a peaceful night with a sky full of more stars than we can comprehend.

I see a campfire …..and sitting on a log by that fire is Uncle C W and Uncle Brodus and Uncle Harold.

And on another log sits Uncle Ralph and Uncle Ray and Uncle Frank and my Dad Jack.

And Stuart is there poking the fire with a stick.

If you remember it was always hard to get Stuart to just sit down and be still and relax.

He had to be doing something. He hasn’t changed I guess.

And as the men sit there telling tales and sharing memories, Uncle Frank gets the attention of all the men as he points at all the women standing in a clearing in the moon light.

There’s my mom Wilma and Aunt Mary and Aunt Larue and Aunt Betty Kitchens and Aunt Betty Hogue and Mama Hogue and leading in their conversation and laughter is Aunt Frances……

And then Uncle Frank says “ I always told y’all them Hogue girls were tough ol’ birds. Gosh it’s good to have them all together again.”

OH what a reunion it must be.

But I not only like to think about what is happening now.

I also like to remember the past.

A few weeks ago, my wife Peggy and I went to visit a lady that is Peggy’s second cousin who lives in Paulding County.

As we were talking. This lady mentioned that she owned a Cemetery lot here at Mt. Harmony.

I had no idea she had ever lived in Mableton.

As we continued to talk, I found out that years ago Aunt Francis had been her Sunday School Teacher.

I had never really thought about Aunt Francis being a teacher, but now, as I remember some of my times spent with her, I can see that she was teaching us in everything she did.

Why didn’t I see this before?

I wrote a blog about Aunt Francis’ 100th birthday last September.

I mentioned how I can remember when visiting her I would be playing with some toy cars in the room next to the kitchen and with all the windows open how she would be singing hymns aloud for all to hear.

She was teaching me at my young age not to be ashamed of my faith. To make a joyful noise and to praise God.



As I received comments from her grand children and my cousins about this blog, it was amazing how they also remembered her always singing hymns.

And not just the chorus or first verse. She would always sing the whole song.

In her singing she was teaching us all to do the job right and if we were gone to do something, to make sure we finished our task.

I remember we were once going on a trip to Houston Texas and thought it would be nice of us to take Aunt Frances to Dallas to see Jimmy on our way and pick her up on our way home.

　

I was so smart back then it never crossed my mind to look at a map before leaving.

You see, Dallas isn’t on the way to Houston.

Going to Houston by way of Dallas is like going to Miami by way of Memphis Tenn.

It was a long trip but Aunt Francis was a great traveling buddy. She told stories and sang songs and kept us laughing the whole way.

She made the trip much shorter and the journey a pleasant one.

We owned a Motor home at the time and on the way Aunt Frances got locked in the bathroom going down the road at 70 MPH.

All she did was laugh at herself in what some would consider an embarrassing situation.

In her laughing she taught me that sometimes you need to laugh at yourself.

I can remember after we moved to Kirkwood, Aunt Frances driving all the way out there from Mableton and just the two of us going down on Decatur Street to the Pawn shops looking for antiques.

I was only 7 or 8 years old but on those excursions she was teaching me to appreciate the things of the past and to have respect for the beauty of well crafted things.

On one of these trips, I recall she bought me my first set of Golf Clubs.

She was teaching me the gift of giving and although I don’t think she knew it at the time she was also teaching me that I would never be able to hit a 1 iron straight.

She was teaching me that there are some things no one can do.

Yep…My Aunt Frances was a teacher and I think the most important lesson she taught me was about family.

She taught me that without family, you don’t have much.

I learned much of her teachings about family through her children and times I spent with them.

Some of these times they probably don’t even remember.

Like the time Marlene and Dianne were going Ice skating for the first time.

I still remember their excitement before and after going.

I can still hear the giggling of the two young girls.

Or the time when Stuart came home from basic training a he gave me his Marine baseball cap. It was bright red with a yellow “M”. I wore it everywhere with pride as a young boy.

And I fondly remember Nicky taking me squirrel hunting down on the Sumner’s property and him teaching me to keep the lake between me and the Sumner’s house so we would get caught.

I don’t think we were suppose to be there.

And Jimmy,,, I remember you coming and taking me to qualifying down at the Atlanta speedway.

I was about ten years old but Aunt Francis had taught you to spend time with your kid cousin and to nurture him as he grew up.

　

She taught through example that you love, that you support, that you share and you stay in touch with family.

It’s not important that you give material things to each other but that you give of yourself.

Yep…Today we celebrate the life of Aunt Francis.

She was born Sept 25, 1912 and went to be with the Lord on June 29, 2013.

But one of the big lesson she taught is that the birthday and the day you depart this world aren’t what matters.

It’s the time in between those days that matter.

Yep…. Aunt Francis is now reaping her rewards but may her teachings, her memories and her stories live on for many years.

They will live on through all of you and may God bless her memory.

And once again I say,,,,,,, Isn’t God good.

OH' HAPPY DAY......IT MUST BE KARMA:

It must be karma.  You see,  today is March 30th and as I opened my facebook page  this morning, one of the first things I saw was the daily posting of  "Georgia Fans That Support Mark Richt."  No,  the Karma was not that the Georgia fans page was there but what was on the page and the date it appeared.  It was a picture of and an article written by Lewis Grizzard.  You may ask why is this Karma?  Easy answer I would tell you.  You see,  Lewis and I had the same operation on our hearts.  Four bypasses and a pig valve installed.  Of course I think Lewis had many more problems than I did as his surgery didn't turn out as good as mine. I've always wanted to  write a post about my heart surgery but Lewis has already taken all the good lines.  You know,  like the one about "tearing up every time he passed by a Bar-B-Que restaurant."

 I think I've read every book Lewis ever wrote.  Some I've read two or three times.  His books and articles always made me smile and took me back to the days of my youth.  A time when life was much simpler.  I think my favorite line in one of Lewis' books was "I don't take tub baths, since I don't wash my face in the same water that I put my butt in".  The man had a way with words.  Well, getting back to the Karma thing.  It's not Karma that the Georgia Fan page was there or even that one of Lewis' articles was there.  The karma is that it was there "today",  March 30, 2013.  You probably don't remember where you were on March 30, 2011 but I do remember where I was  on that morning exactly two years ago.  I remember that morning but none of the rest of the day.  You see,  that was the day I had my heart surgery.  "Two years ago today."

As I read Lewis article this morning,  I once again took a trip back to my youth.  Back to when I was eight years old.  I went back to the corner of College Avenue and Howard Street.   That's where I would pick up my Atlanta Newspapers to deliver to my customers.  That's right,  I had a paper route at the age of eight.  It was said that I was the youngest boy to ever have a paper route for the Atlanta Journal.  At the age of eight I had become a "Business Man."  It amazes me at how clear all of this is in my mind today, 57 years later.  I remember that a daily paper was a nickel and a Sunday Paper was twenty cents.  If you paid by the week it was fifty-two cents and by the month it was $2.24 including tax.  Even at eight years old,  taxes were a thing I could fuss about.  It meant that I had to carry pennies with me to make change.  When I first got my route, I had 73 customers and when I gave my route up two years later I had 89 customers.  I remember thinking that I really made good money back then as I could buy almost any thing I wanted.  I must have made seven or eight dollars a week  Makes you wonder where all that money got away to.  Just across the street from where I picked up my newspapers was a little store that we called the "The Fruit Stand."   I'm sure it had another name but to all of us paperboys it was just, "The Fruit Stand."  We would all gather there each afternoon while waiting for the big truck to bring us our papers.  A soft drink was a nickel and a Chunky Candy Bar was 3 cents.  For a quarter you could make yourself sick.   I would ride my Radar bike that I had received for Christmas  the year before with a basket on the front that would hold two stacks of newspapers side by side.  I mean it was a big basket.  After picking up my newspaper I would head back down College Avenue, take a right on Kirkwood Road and go until it would deadend into Boulevard Drive.  They've changed the name of Boulevard Drive to Hosea Williams Drive.  Now don't get me wrong.  I liked Hosea and I know he helped feed the hungry and all,  but to me it will always be Boulevard Drive. 

The first Customer I had was the Bike Shop right where Kirkwood Road would deadend.  I later bought a Mo-Ped Scooter from this shop but that's a story to be told later.  Not long ago I rode down Boulevard Drive and could still tell you every house I threw a paper at.  I could remember where a girl named Becky lived.  She was, in my mind a woman of the world, probably in the range of 12 or 13 years old.  Much to old and sophisticated for a lowly paperboy such as I, but she was pretty.  I also delivered a paper to my friend Billy Watson's house.  And then there was the house where Duffy lived.  Duffy was older than me,  probably 10 or 12 years old, and Duffy was deaf.  Even today I can still see Duffy running in the park playing baseball with us or up at the rec center playing ping pong.  Duffy was what today, we would call handicapped.  If you ever knew Duffy,  you knew better.  Duffy wasn't handicapped,  he was just one of the guys.  I heard from another friend from Kirkwood, Bobby Hale, a couple of years ago that Duffy had died.  Duffy taught us other boys a thing or two about life growing up.   Rest in peace my friend.  Now back to my paper route.  When I would reach the house of Wendy and Mary Hill,  I would stop and take a break.  I always thought it was a great place to stop being that the scenery was nice to look at and  the conversation was good.  A few houses up, in the next block, was a house where a lady lived that had a parrot.  The parrot was usually in a cage on the front porch when I delivered her paper and  I  swear the parrot would always have something to say.

I love to travel back in time.  It always seems our youth was a great time to have been alive.  But it also seems our youth was just to short,  it just didn't last long enough.  I guess that's why I enjoy writing so much.  It takes me back to that time.  It extends the time of my youth.  It fills my heart with happiness, joy and good memories.  I think that is why Lewis enjoyed writing also.  It carried him to a happy place and he was blessed with the ability to take us on his journey with him in a magical way.

  Yep,  It's been two years ago today and soon after I got home from the hospital I started writing.  I had never written before but since my surgery  I've written over 80 post on my blog plus numerous  miscellaneous post on facebook.  Although I know I'm not a Lewis Grizzard and never will be, writing has been good for me.  It has carried me to many places, if only in my mind.  I hope that maybe,  because of something I've put down on paper,  you too have been able to go on a wonderful journey to your past.  To a time when things weren't so complicated and life moved at a slower pace.

Thinking back to "The Fruit Stand",  I remember spending many a quarter in that fine establishment on junk food that couldn't have been good for me.  I just wonder if that may have been the beginning of my heart problems?   OH well,  I guess we can just be thankful for modern medicine and God's Amazing Grace. and the oportunities to go back a few years in time.

  Until next time....HAPPY EASTER...and May God Bless you.

JUST ONE OF THOSE DAYS


Today has just been one of those days.  You know the kind of day I'm talking about.  Some would call it a lazy day.  Others would call it a wasted day.  It has seemed all day that I just wanted to sit around and do nothing at all that accomplished anything.  I guess we could just call this a non-productive day.  I'm sure you've had these kind of days yourself.  First thing this morning I went to the computer to catch up on the news.   I then rode the stationary bike for about thirty minutes.  Then I ate breakfast.   I then watched a little TV.  Then back to the computer to just surf around.   All of a sudden, before you knew,  it was lunch time.  After lunch I went back to the TV and started watching a program called  "You Live In What?"  Not sure if you've ever seen this program or not but  it's a pretty interesting program.  The makers of the show go around the country showing different structures people have what we today call  "repurposed" and made into their homes.  The imagination of people never fails to amaze me.  I repurpose a lot of things myself.  My birdhouses are mainly built of "repurposed"  materials.  I have also started to use old rusty tin roofing to paint pictures on.  I guess you would call the tin I use a rusty canvas.  I have learned through doing this that you don't really have to have a lot of talent to paint something that someone will like enough to  buy.   You see,  I'm not a very good painter.  I tell Peggy the only reason I can figure why any body buys one of my paintings is because it reminds them of something their four year old grand child painted. 

Anyway as I was watching this program called,  "You Live In What?,  I got to thinking about repurposing things.  I thought about the elementary school I attended,  Kirkwood Elementary School.  The school was built around 1900, give or take a year, and has now been converted to loft apartments.  Same with Roosevelt High School in Atlanta.  Even the old library I went to as a child in Kirkwood is now a private residence.  There are so many of the old buildings in Atlanta that I grew up around that have been repurposed.  The Roxy Hotel,  The Briarcliff Hotel and even the old Sears  Roebuck on Ponce DE Leon is being "Repurposed".  I am glad that these building are being saved and "Repurposed."  I wish they had done this with a few others years ago.  Buildings like Terminal Station and The Kimball House to name a couple.  I wish there was more 'Repuposing" today.

When I ride through Atlanta today though,  I do get excited seeing old neighborhoods being saved by the young people moving in.  Neighborhoods like Kirkwood,  Grant  Park,  East Atlanta Village and Virginia Highlands.  Places like the Forth Ward,  Cabbage Town and West End.  I'm not so sure if the young folks don't understand the value of "Repurposing" much better than us in the older generation.

Maybe  "Repurposing" means a little more to me than it does to some of you.  You see,  in a couple of weeks I will celebrate the second anniversary of my open heart surgery.  What does  "Repurposing have to do with heart surgery you ask?  Well two years ago the Doctors sawed my breast bone in half.  They then  stopped my heart from beating and took it out of my chest.   They took veins from my legs and "Repurposed" them as veins in my heart in four different places.  They then took a  valve from a pig's heart and "Repurposed" it as a valve in my heart.  So I guess you could say because of  "Repurposing"  I'm alive today.

When you think about it,  all the stories I tell and all the things I write are "Repurposed" things I have heard and seen in my life.  In fact,  my life it's self was "Repurposed" when I accepted Christ as my Lord.  My "Purpose" in life changed.

So as I sit here thinking,  maybe this wasn't a lazy day or a wasted day.  Maybe it was just God's way of telling me to slow down,  to be still and to meditate on the past blessings  He has given to me.  As the saying goes    "God Is Good,  All The Time.

May your day be blessed also.

THURSDAY'S CHILD.

"Thursday's Child has far to go"....She was born on a Thursday and from the very beginning it seemed her journey would be long.  She was conceived by rape.  For years she had no idea who her real parents were.  She never met her father.  Her life was what some would call a "hodge podge,"  a confused and disorderly mess or a weird collection of things. She was born in a town called "North" which was really in the deep south.  It was actually in South Carolina.  From early childhood she was raised by relatives who mistreated her. The local children made fun of her and called her an ugly duckling.  They called her "yellow girl" and tied her to a tree and threw rocks at her.  Did I mention that she was of mixed race?  Her mother was of Cherokee and Black descent.  Her father was White.  She was a Thursday's Child.  She had a "far ways to go."

It was an Aunt that raised her until about the age of eight.  Raised is a word of many meanings.  In this instance it means providing some food and shelter.  That was about it.  No guidance and very little, if any, love.  When  Thursday's Child was about the age of eight, her Aunt met and went to live with a Black man that wanted nothing to do with the child.  He said her complexion  was to pale.  She then lived with other family members for a couple of years  and was finally sent to New York to live with yet another family member.  She would later learn that this woman she was sent north to live with was really her birth mother.  This would be the first time she lived with indoor plumbing and electric lights.  I know this sounds likes a big improvement in her life but in fact, things were far from better.  Her mother mostly ignored her and the Harlem school kids were as harsh as the South Carolina children had been.  Her saving grace came when some of the school teachers began to respond to her.  She had always done well in school as she had a passion for reading and learning.  The other thing that really opened her up was a woman at the church she was attending.  The main reason she went to church was because of the music.  She loved the old gospel singing and wanted to  be a part of the choir.  As she became involved in the choir and began singing more and more,  this woman came up to her one day,  placed her hand on the child's shoulder and said to her..."You my child were born with the hand of God on your shoulder."  Thursday's Child said at this very moment,  she felt a spark inside her that started a fire to burning.

What you have just read isn't a fairy tale.  It isn't a made up story.  It is about a real person.  A Thursday's Child.  Last week as I was reading the old Nursery Rhyme my mind once again started to wander.  What day of the week was I born on I asked myself?

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.

OH I thought to myself,  any of these would be good except Wednesday's or Thursdays child.  Then I looked up my birthday to see which I was and guess what?
Yep...Thursday it was.  Just my luck I thought.  Of course it could have been Wednesday's and I would have been full of Woe.  I have been told I was full of something before but it wasn't Woe.  But now I was being told I had far to go.  Darn I thought to myself......" I hope it isn't to far.  I'm getting pretty old for a long journey."
And then, as my mind often does, I started to think about journeys and distances.  I thought to myself..."What makes a journey long?  Is it made long because of where you're going or maybe it's determined by where you are starting from?  It could be long or short because of who you are traveling with,  or whether you are with anyone at all.  All of this thinking made me think of Peggy asking me if I wanted to take a walk around the block to which I responded ....."Why?  I'm already here."  But as I thought of that I remember another journey Peggy and I went on many years ago.  It was what many people would call a long journey.  We just called it our Honeymoon.  You see,  most of our friends took a few days for their honeymoon or a week at the most.  We took three and a half weeks.  We drove the northern route to  San Francisco,  then flew to Hawaii for a few days and then drove back through Los Angeles and the southern route home.  You see.....our journey started at home and ended at home....Kind of like a long walk around the block.   But it was a special journey.  It was special not because of where it started or where it ended but because of the places it took us in between.  The things we saw and the times we shared.  It was made good because of who I was with. It was a wonderful journey

Sometimes now I look back at my life's journey and say to myself the line from the song by Jerry Reed..."I've got a long way to go and a short time to get there."  Sometimes we look at our life and get a little sad.  I think that's how we sometimes look at our life journey when we get a little older.  We think "If I had only done this or only done that.  If I had only made this decision instead of that one."  Or sometimes we try to justify where we are in our journey by a decision someone else made.  Or we blame our place in life on where we came from.  I've tried to use all these excuses before and none of them worked.  None of the excuses satisfied me.  Sure I wish I had done some things differently but I really can't complain to much.  I've had a very good journey so far.  I've had some bad times and I've had some great times.  Some of you have had it better than me and some have had it worse.  But one thing is for sure.  No one has had better travel companions than I have.  I've enjoyed the things I've done and the things I've seen on this journey we call life.  Why do I think my life has been so good you ask?  It's really very simple.  You see,  I'm just like the lady I was writing about at the beginning of this post.  I was born with the "
Hand of God' on my shoulder.
He has watched over me everyday of my life and even though I'm getting older,  God's hand is still there.  I'm older but I've still got  "far to go."  You see....."I'm a Thursday's Child." You know,  I'm not so sure all of us don't have a little of "Thursday's Child" in us.

In case you were wondering who the lady I was writing about  in the beginning was, her name was Eartha Kitt.  Some of you will remember her and some of you won't.  She wrote an autobiography titled "Thursdays Child."  It's worth the read.

In the meantime,  be thankful for your lot in life.  Sometimes you may forget but You too were born with the "Hand of God" on your shoulder.

God bless.

JUST WHAT IS NORMAL?

As I pondered this question,  my mind quickly returns to something my mother use to say whenever we were talking.  I use the word talking, because it  sounds much nicer than the word gossiping.  We would be talking about someone, whether it be about an individual or a whole family, and  Mom would often say  "Well, they're just not like us."  I always associated her saying this as to meaning either us, or the other party wasn't normal.  I never quite figured out who was normal and who wasn't normal.  Here I am, many years later,  a father and a grandfather and I'm still not sure who, or what is normal.  I used a quote the other day from Morticia Addams of the famous  Addams Family T.V. Show.  She said "Normal is an illusion. What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.”  It sure makes you think doesn't it.  Normal applies to so many segments of our lives. 

Thinking about being normal can be whimsical and funny and silly or it can be serious and sad and bring tears to your eyes caused by guilt or some other deep feelings.   As I think back in my life I can remember thinking it was normal to drink a 6 ounce bottle of Coke and feel totally satisfied,  but at the same time I also believed it was normal to sit down and drink a 6 pack or more of beer at one sitting without getting up once except to relieve myself.  As I look back now, I realize that wasn't normal,  that was getting drunk. The only thing about this situation that was normal was the  act relieving myself.  This is an example of thinking something we did was funny or silly and normal at the same time.  We believe these kind of things and thoughts were normal for a fellow at a young age.  I can also remember times of hitch hiking to Florida and New Orleans as a teen and riding my bike down Stone Mountain before my teen years, and I say these times and experiences were normal for a kid back in those days and times.  I remember these and many other experience and I, shall we say " justify"  them as being normal but some stories I don't tell because I don't want to give my Grandkids the impression that this behavior is normal today.

I can also remember, and it makes me feel so ashamed to remember, a time when I would look at a child in a wheelchair because of Polio, or a child with Down Syndrome or Autism  and I would think to myself,  "These poor kids just aren't normal."  Many times we try to "justify",   there's that word again  "justify",  don't you just love that word.  We try to "justify" some of those feelings by the fact that "Well, we were just young.  We didn't know better back then.  We've learned from experience."   But have we?  Have we really learned anything?  So many times we judge whether a person is normal or not just by the way they look  as compared to ourself, or maybe how they believe about some things.   If they don't look like us,  they're not normal.  If the don't worship like us, they're not normal.  Sometimes they even have to eat the same kinds of food as we do to be normal.  We say we're not prejudice but do we make the same effort to invite Blacks or Hispanics to our churchs as we do people who look like us, or do we say..."Well,  they just don't worship like us,  you know,  in a normal way."  Are we just as happy when a Jew or Mormon moves into our neighborhood as if it was a Christian moving in?  You know what I mean...."Normal People".  Do we look at a diverse neighborhood as a problem or as an opportunity to learn of other cultures and to share the gospel?  How about the friends our kids have?  Do we let them pick their friends or do we try to pick all their friends for them?  After all,  we do know what's best for our kids.  Those other kids are different.  You know what I mean..."They just are not normal."  
I worked with teenagers for years and can name  so many kids that weren't normal.  Kids that were wild.  Kids that were poor.  Kids that were dirty more than the were clean.  Kids that cussed and drank and did other things that weren't NORMAL.  But many of these  kids that weren't normal grew up to be fine, successful, even prominent adults.  Some business owners.  Some preachers.  Some teachers.  Some even managed to grow up to be good Moms and Dads.  They grew up to be NORMAL people.  Why you ask?  Maybe our normal kids were a good influence on them.  Maybe a teacher was a good influence on them.  In fact,  maybe you,  were the influence they needed.

Again I think back to years ago.  I think back to hair on my shoulders.  I think back to silk shirts with collars large enough to serve as a kite if you would have tied a long tail on my back belt loop.  I think back to bright colored striped bell bottom pants and sandals  with their soles made of old tires..  I think back to a time when most adults thought "I wasn't normal."  The thing that scares me now is  I look at the young people today with their body piercings and tattoos and some of the clothes they wear and most of those kids  look back at me, and they also think...."I'm not normal."  And I ask myself....Will I ever be normal?"  I have a feeling I never have nor will I ever be normal.....All I can say is,  "That's my goal."  I think I'll have some  shirts printed up that say......."ABNORMALITY IS THE NEW NORMAL"........I could probably sell them and make a fortune.  But then I ask myself....Is being rich normal?

Romans 12:2 

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.

HICKORY DICKORY DOCK

Hickory, dickory, dock,
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickory, dock.

This has been one of my favorite Nursery Rhymes for as far back as I can remember.  Why this one you ask?  I think it is because of a story I was once told about the meaning of the rhyme.  I have never been able to confirm if the story I was told is true or not but I still choose to believe it is.  Kind of like Santa and the Tooth Fairy.  Some people will try to tell us they don't exist either but we know better don't we?  I have seen the nickles and dimes left in the middle of the night under a pillow and the gifts under the tree on Christmas morning.  I have seen the smile on a child's face and have experienced the good will in a man's heart.  I know what is real and what isn't.  Just like the author of this nursery rhyme.  Some say it was written by a fellow named Oliver Goldsmith while others say it was a counting rhyme used by shepherds hundreds of years ago.  I choose to believe it was written by Mother Goose,  one of my all time favorite authors.  I know.  Now you are going to tell me Mother Goose was a fictional character  Believe what you want but I believe she was real and your not going to convince me differently.

Now about the story.  The way it was told to me was that many years ago the first big clocks were made with gears of wood.  Now these gears or splines took a long time to make and once they were made, they were in constant motion and under a lot of pressure from the other gears and splines as they turned the hands of the clock.  Like any piece of machinery,  these gears needed maintenance so they were oiled on a regular basis.  Now back in these days, they didn't have the lubricants we have today so the people would use animal fat to oil the gears.  Now the animal fat worked very well but the one downfall was that it attracted mice.  The mice would climb the clocks and gnaw or chew on the gears.  It was like the maintenance men were sitting up a mouse buffet.  The mice loved it and they told all their mice friends and they all came often to partake of this wonderful "All you can eat buffet."  Does this sound kind of familiar? Maybe the Golden Corral or Ryans.   Oh well,,, back to the story.  So here we had another downfall.  The mice gnawed and chewed and chewed and gnawed until the gears would have to be replaced which cost a lot of money and took a lot of time and hard work.  So a very smart man, an engineer I assume but not from Ga. Tech as this was before the year of the Yellow Jacket,  was asked to come up with a solution to the "animal fat / gear / mouse" problem.  He worked and worked to find a lubricant that wouldn't attract the mice but could come up with nothing.  He thought of putting poison in with the animal fat but decided the smell of thousands of dead mice would be to much to take, plus he didn't want to face the pressure from PETA.   Yes,  There were even tree hugging fanatics back then.  Then one day as the engineer was working at his desk,  one of the mice he had for his experiments got loose unbeknowst to him.  The mouse jumped up on the  desk and by chance turned over a small bell the engineer had sitting there that he used to summon his assistant.  As the bell rang,  it startled the mouse and in a blink of an eye the mouse was gone.  The engineer leaned back in his chair and  a smile came to his face as he realized he had discovered the first burglar alarm.  Have you ever noticed how many things are discovered by accident?   The name he came up with for his invention was  "Chimes" as it sounded much more Politically Correct  than burglar alarm.  You know,  you have to appease the PETA people even now days just as you did back then.

Well,  after installing the "chimes" (burglar alarms) on all the clocks the mice were scared away at every hour on the hour.  But,  just like happens with most good things,  this also came to an end.  You see,  after a while the sound of the chimes became  familiar to the mice and they discovered the chimes wouldn't hurt them  Instead of a deterrent, the chimes became a call to eat,  a dinner bell if you will.  Kind of amazing how we get so use to warnings after a while they don't frighten us any more isn't it.

Well,  that's not the end of the story.  You see,  a few years later there was a young man that had dropped out of school in the third grade  Although he wasn't what we would call educated,  he was very smart,  inquisitive, a hard worker and had a desire make life a better place for the people.  So at the young age of nine or ten he went to work for the town blacksmith to learn a trade.  He learned his trade well and went on to become a wonderful metal smith and to  invent metal gears and splines to run the clocks.  The mice found out very soon that steal wasn't near as tasty as wood marinated in animal fat.

Well there are many morals in this story.  If you look I'm sure you can find one worth sharing.  Some people will tell you it's not a true story but it's  My story and I'm sticking to it.

May your day be blessed by God

AND NOW THE REST OF THE STORY........


Tuesday will be my 65th birthday.  I remember back when 65 was considered to be a "Senior Citizen."   Then as medical care became better and some of us decided we should take better care of ourselves,  we began to live longer.  And then  someone decided it would be a good thing since we were living longer,  maybe we should get old sooner and we became "Senior Citizens" at the age of 55.  In fact AARP wanted my money so bad they declared me to be a senior at age 50.  Seems everyone except Social Security wants me to be a senior citizen sooner and sooner.  If the government had their way none of us would be eligible to draw any money from Social Secuity  until age 85.  Have you noticed that it all comes back to money?  And when I say all,  I mean that first thought that usually come to mind when thinking about or discussing anything. 

When I got up this morning I made me a glass of tea,  sat down at the computer, clicked to my local newspaper and prepared myself for my daily dose of depression.
After stomaching  all I cared to about the world,  politics, disasters and the like,  I then clicked to Facebook.  The first thing I saw was that a couple of old High School friends, Roy Jarrett and Jim Bello, had written on my wall.  I haven't seen either of these men in many years but they both played a big part in the process of my life I like to call growing up.  They were writing to wish me a Happy Birthday.  As is usually the case,  my mind,  all of a sudden started to swing back and forth between being 65 and the good times of playing football with Roy and baseball with Jim.  I went from the depression of the news to the happiness of childhood in a matter of seconds.

I then thought about many of the  days in the past,  days that back then seemed just to be so routine but now are so special in my memory.  Like the daily trips taking Cindy and Vicki to Middle School, that at the time seemed so mundane, but now as I recall them making fun of me because I liked to listen to Paul Harvey and his...."And Now The Rest Of the Story" on the radio and his "Bunn-o-Matic Coffee Maker" commercials,  it is moments like these that bring such a warmth to my heart and a gigantic smile to my face.

Or it is moments like yesterday when the whole family is together and time is shared between brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins and in laws and children and parents.  It's knowing that everyday is special.  It's realizing that everyday is truly a gift from God.

Have you  thought about your life lately?  I mean really  thought about it?  Sometimes now in my life I get the feeling I want to....no wait...."want to" isn't  what I feel.  The right expression is a feeling that I "need to" write something.  Do you ever feel a need to put something on paper?  A need to express a feeling you have?  A need to tell how you love something or someone?   And then just as quickly a feeling of fear comes over you.  "I can't write" you tell yourself.  "It will be boring" that inter self tells you.  "People will laugh at me" the voice whispers.  And then you convince yourself...... "I really don't have anything to say."    I have a secret to tell you.  There is nothing to fear and you DO really have something to say.  Think of your life as a book and each day is a clean page.  That clean page needs something on it.  Every day is your special day and every day has a special story for you to tell.  Come Tuesday of this week,  I will have lived 23,742 days.  That's 23,742 stories I have to tell.  I'm way behind and better get busy.

Every day, you're writing a new story too.  Someone needs to hear it.  The blank page is before   you.  Time may be running out.  If you're not a senior citizen,  You will be before you know it.  I hope to read your first story soon.

God Bless

J. Wesley Daniell