Wednesday, January 31, 2007
M.N.T.D
I did actually write a long blog entitiled Mourn Not the Dead, that happens to be the beginning of a quotation of William Penn. "Mourn not the dead, but rather mourn the apathetic throngs that see the world its anquish and its wrongs and dare not speak. I expounded on the situation in our country and world today and the lack of people speaking out against all of the wrongs and all of the anguish that surrounds us. I tried to spell check and my writings disappeared and they are floating around in cyber space I know not where. I tried everything I knew to try to retrieve them but my skills are limitted. If they should re-appear as mysteriously as they disappeared I will share them with you. Ciao
snow
To snow or not to snow, that is the question. For days and days the weather men have been predicting snow. They keep telling us there is going to be an inch, an inch and a half, a dusting, flurries, a flake! So far there have been a few flurries sdrifting down but no visible signs of an accumulation. I had a little girl in school tell me one time. It's snowing but it is not landing! thus far that is an accurate account of what has gone on for the last two or three weeks.
Once again, there are predictions. The new system is to predict by bread loaves! (I kid you not) If the picture on the screen shows an opened loaf of bread with a few slices visible, sort of falling out of the wrapper, that is flurries, if a whole slice is separated from the loaf and standing alone, that is an inch, half a slice is a dusting. I'm predicting that if a whole slice of bread is exposed on TV there will be no bread in the stores.
People go to the stores in droves when any snow is mentioned on the News. They stock up on bread, some times 5 or more loaves. Milk also is a big item. If they normally use a gallon of milk a week, they buy 2 or 3 gallons, "just in case". If we have two feet of snow they will be ready.
I used to have a system, if snow was predicted three times and failed to show up, the fourth time we might get 1/2 inch or so. I am well aware that meteorology is not an exact science but crying wolf is.
Once again it is supposed to snow tomorrow, Friday and into Sat. with a possible accumulation of 1 to 3 inches! I say,"LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW."
Once again, there are predictions. The new system is to predict by bread loaves! (I kid you not) If the picture on the screen shows an opened loaf of bread with a few slices visible, sort of falling out of the wrapper, that is flurries, if a whole slice is separated from the loaf and standing alone, that is an inch, half a slice is a dusting. I'm predicting that if a whole slice of bread is exposed on TV there will be no bread in the stores.
People go to the stores in droves when any snow is mentioned on the News. They stock up on bread, some times 5 or more loaves. Milk also is a big item. If they normally use a gallon of milk a week, they buy 2 or 3 gallons, "just in case". If we have two feet of snow they will be ready.
I used to have a system, if snow was predicted three times and failed to show up, the fourth time we might get 1/2 inch or so. I am well aware that meteorology is not an exact science but crying wolf is.
Once again it is supposed to snow tomorrow, Friday and into Sat. with a possible accumulation of 1 to 3 inches! I say,"LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW."
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
Ramblings
I am having trouble posting things on the discussion page of the Fitz Web page. For awhile I was just communicating with myself. But at least the posts were visible but since then things have gone down hill. Now all of my posts are just #'s.
I probably didn't have anything profound to say anyway. Maybe it is just as well that thay were not published. I've got to get the hang of all this new fangled stuff so I can really have my say. So far they are all complaints about my inadequacies. Don't complain, just explain. An Irish proverb : 'It's a bad hen that won't scratch herself. ' Whatever that means!
Today I went to Dick Milburn's funeral. Last evening, Doc and I went to the viewing at Pearsons' funeral home in St. Matthews. I was quite surprised and pleased that Doc concented to go. When I asked if he wanted to go with me and said, "Yes, he was a good person and a good neighbor." We met other neighbors and former neighbors there. The one's that still remember Doc walking around the block for all those years, were glad to see him and greeted him very lovingly. Debbie Haddad was there and she and I had a small reunion. She cried and said how much she still misses all of us. The three remaining Milburn boys were doubly pleased to see us and were very affectionate. Today I went to the funeral. Doc wasn't up for that. Once again we met many former and present day neighbors. The funeral itself, was very different. First the open casket was in front of the lecturn and the minister opened the ceremony with reading the eulogy, word for word, from the news paper. Dick had written it in prepararion of his death. Then the minister tried to tell his story of knowing Dick. It was very poorly stated and actually no picture of Dick was in the words. After the whole church stood and sang a hymn the "pastor" asked for one of Dick's friends to give the formal eulogy. It was one of Dick's best friends and he was very,very good. He had some great stories and really gave a true picture of his friend. We could all laugh and also shed some tears. I'll digress a moment here, the minister described Dick as a quiet man, and we all knew him to be very loud. After Rose Lee, he was the loudest neighbor we had. After the friend, volunteers from the crowd spoke. They were also very good and really eulogized Dick appropriately. Dick had talked to me recently about his Grandson, Stan JR. who he said was having a really hard time getting over or dealing with his dad's death. Stan died on Derby Day, Dick said he had been doing all he could do to help him cope but had finally recommended that he get professional help. That grandson volunteered to speak and Dick would have been very proud of him, he was wonderful. Other friends and another Grandson spoke and then we sang Amazing Grace while smelling the odor of roast beef wafting through the air. As closure, the 'Pastor' invited everyone to meet in theFellowship Room for lunch prepared by the women from the congration and" thank you all for coming." Not even an Amen. I'm not being critical I am just giving an account of a Prespeterian funeral for a good man that will be sorely missed in the 'hood.
I probably didn't have anything profound to say anyway. Maybe it is just as well that thay were not published. I've got to get the hang of all this new fangled stuff so I can really have my say. So far they are all complaints about my inadequacies. Don't complain, just explain. An Irish proverb : 'It's a bad hen that won't scratch herself. ' Whatever that means!
Today I went to Dick Milburn's funeral. Last evening, Doc and I went to the viewing at Pearsons' funeral home in St. Matthews. I was quite surprised and pleased that Doc concented to go. When I asked if he wanted to go with me and said, "Yes, he was a good person and a good neighbor." We met other neighbors and former neighbors there. The one's that still remember Doc walking around the block for all those years, were glad to see him and greeted him very lovingly. Debbie Haddad was there and she and I had a small reunion. She cried and said how much she still misses all of us. The three remaining Milburn boys were doubly pleased to see us and were very affectionate. Today I went to the funeral. Doc wasn't up for that. Once again we met many former and present day neighbors. The funeral itself, was very different. First the open casket was in front of the lecturn and the minister opened the ceremony with reading the eulogy, word for word, from the news paper. Dick had written it in prepararion of his death. Then the minister tried to tell his story of knowing Dick. It was very poorly stated and actually no picture of Dick was in the words. After the whole church stood and sang a hymn the "pastor" asked for one of Dick's friends to give the formal eulogy. It was one of Dick's best friends and he was very,very good. He had some great stories and really gave a true picture of his friend. We could all laugh and also shed some tears. I'll digress a moment here, the minister described Dick as a quiet man, and we all knew him to be very loud. After Rose Lee, he was the loudest neighbor we had. After the friend, volunteers from the crowd spoke. They were also very good and really eulogized Dick appropriately. Dick had talked to me recently about his Grandson, Stan JR. who he said was having a really hard time getting over or dealing with his dad's death. Stan died on Derby Day, Dick said he had been doing all he could do to help him cope but had finally recommended that he get professional help. That grandson volunteered to speak and Dick would have been very proud of him, he was wonderful. Other friends and another Grandson spoke and then we sang Amazing Grace while smelling the odor of roast beef wafting through the air. As closure, the 'Pastor' invited everyone to meet in theFellowship Room for lunch prepared by the women from the congration and" thank you all for coming." Not even an Amen. I'm not being critical I am just giving an account of a Prespeterian funeral for a good man that will be sorely missed in the 'hood.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
OK it works now.
I was unable to post anything on my blog because it said my cookies were not connected or something but now it is working. Gregg came over today and he did something or other to it and I am suddenly able to post. Now, I've forgotten all of the things I was going to post. Pat, someday I will do a music review that will be quite long. I've been through all of the music genres from Glenn Miller down through the ages. (Swing, R&B, Rock and Roll, Protest, Country, etc.) Having had teenagers in the home for 25 full years, I've pretty much run the gamut. As soon as I get time to really devote a chunk of time to it I will get busy.
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