Bring Me That Horizon

Welcome to jennyweber dot com

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Home of Jenny the Pirate

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This will go better if you

check your expectations at the door.

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We're not big on logic

but there's no shortage of irony.

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 Nice is different than good.

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Oh and ...

I flunked charm school.

So what.

Can't write anything.

= Jennifer =

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962

  

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Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

= Jenny the Pirate =

Hoist The Colors

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I am a Blue Star Mother

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Insist on yourself; never imitate.

Your own gift you can present

every moment

with the cumulative force

of a whole life’s cultivation;

but of the adopted talent of another

you have only an extemporaneous

half possession.

That which each can do best,

none but his Maker can teach him.

= Ralph Waldo Emerson =

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Represent:

The Black Velvet Coat

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.

And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.

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Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

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REMEMBRANCE

When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks
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 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

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Keep To The Code

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You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:

In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.

So then death worketh in us, but life in you.

We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;

Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.

For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

II Corinthians 4

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine

The Courage Of Our Hearts

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Daft Like Jack

 "I can name fingers and point names ..."

And We'll Sing It All The Time
  • Elements Series: Fire
    Elements Series: Fire
    by Peter Kater
  • Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    by Danny Wright
  • Grace
    Grace
    Old World Records
  • The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    The Hymns Collection (2 Disc Set)
    Stone Angel Music, Inc.
  • Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Always Near - A Romantic Collection
    Real Music
  • Copia
    Copia
    Temporary Residence Ltd.
  • The Poet: Romances for Cello
    The Poet: Romances for Cello
    Spring Hill Music
  • Nightfall
    Nightfall
    Narada Productions, Inc.
  • Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    RCA
  • The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    The Pity Party: A Mean-Spirited Diatribe Against Liberal Compassion
    by William Voegeli
  • The Art of Memoir
    The Art of Memoir
    by Mary Karr
  • The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    by Emily Dickinson
  • Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    Among The Dead: My Years in The Port Mortuary
    by John W. Harper
  • On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    by William Zinsser
  • Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    by Steven Milloy
  • The Amateur
    The Amateur
    by Edward Klein
  • Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    Hating Jesus: The American Left's War on Christianity
    by Matt Barber, Paul Hair
  • In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    In Praise of Stay-at-Home Moms
    by Dr. Laura Schlessinger
  • Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    Where Are They Buried (Revised and Updated): How Did They Die? Fitting Ends and Final Resting Places of the Famous, Infamous, and Noteworthy
    by Tod Benoit
  • Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    Bird Brains: The Intelligence of Crows, Ravens, Magpies, and Jays
    by Candace Savage
  • Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    Gifts of the Crow: How Perception, Emotion, and Thought Allow Smart Birds to Behave Like Humans
    by John Marzluff Ph.D., Tony Angell
  • Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    by Andrew Breitbart
  • 11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    11 Principles of a Reagan Conservative
    by Paul Kengor
  • Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    Mind of the Raven: Investigations and Adventures with Wolf-Birds
    by Bernd Heinrich
  • Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    by Matthew Rolston
  • Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    by Todd Harra, Ken McKenzie
  • America's Steadfast Dream
    America's Steadfast Dream
    by E. Merrill Root
  • Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    by Alexandra Day
  • Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    by Lynne Truss
  • The American Way of Death Revisited
    The American Way of Death Revisited
    by Jessica Mitford
  • In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    Master Books
  • Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    by Peter Schweizer
  • Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    by Brannon Howse
  • Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow: The Tragic Courtship and Marriage of Paul Laurence Dunbar and Alice Ruth Moore
    by Eleanor Alexander
Easy On The Goods
  • Waiting for
    Waiting for "Superman"
    starring Geoffrey Canada, Michelle Rhee
  • The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    starring Bette Davis, Ernest Borgnine, Debbie Reynolds, Barry Fitzgerald, Rod Taylor
  • Bernie
    Bernie
    starring Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine, Matthew McConaughey
  • Remember the Night
    Remember the Night
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray, Beulah Bondi, Elizabeth Patterson, Sterling Holloway
  • The Ox-Bow Incident
    The Ox-Bow Incident
    starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, William Eythe
  • The Bad Seed
    The Bad Seed
    starring Nancy Kelly, Patty McCormack, Henry Jones, Eileen Heckart, Evelyn Varden
  • Shadow of a Doubt
    Shadow of a Doubt
    starring Teresa Wright, Joseph Cotten, Macdonald Carey, Patricia Collinge, Henry Travers
  • The More The Merrier
    The More The Merrier
    starring Jean Arthur, Joel McCrea, Charles Coburn, Bruce Bennett, Ann Savage
  • Act of Valor
    Act of Valor
    starring Alex Veadov, Roselyn Sanchez, Nestor Serrano
  • Deep Water
    Deep Water
    starring Tilda Swinton, Donald Crowhurst, Jean Badin, Clare Crowhurst, Simon Crowhurst
  • Sunset Boulevard
    Sunset Boulevard
    starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim, Nancy Olson, Fred Clark
  • Penny Serenade
    Penny Serenade
    starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Edgar Buchanan, Beulah Bondi
  • Double Indemnity
    Double Indemnity
    starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Porter Hall, Jean Heather
  • Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    starring Gary Anthony Williams
  • Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Passion River
  • It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    starring Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert
  • Stella Dallas
    Stella Dallas
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, John Boles, Anne Shirley, Barbara O'Neil, Alan Hale
  • The Iron Lady
    The Iron Lady
    starring Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Harry Lloyd, Anthony Head, Alexandra Roach
  • Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    starring Peter Sallis, Anne Reid, Sally Lindsay, Melissa Collier, Sarah Laborde
  • The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    starring Red Balloon
  • Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    starring William Holden, Don Taylor, Otto Preminger, Robert Strauss, Harvey Lembeck
  • The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    starring Ginger Rogers, Ray Milland
  • My Dog Skip
    My Dog Skip
    starring Frankie Muniz, Diane Lane, Luke Wilson, Kevin Bacon
  • Sabrina
    Sabrina
    starring Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, Walter Hampden, John Williams
  • The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    starring Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, Shirley Temple, Rudy Vallee, Ray Collins
  • Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    starring Johnny Depp, Geoffrey Rush, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Jack Davenport
  • Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    starring Bette Davis, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Gladys Cooper, John Loder
  • The Trip To Bountiful
    The Trip To Bountiful
  • Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
    Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ RIP JAVIER ~

1999-2016

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

Simple. Easy To Remember.

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Tuesday
Aug192014

Please don't you be my neighbor

TG and I are okay neighbors.

We're all but invisible. We don't do anything obnoxious. We take decent care of our yard without being all uptight about it.

Our place is neat and clean.

And we mind our own business.

But it seems as though in this life, no good deed will go unpunished.

I wrote about my next-door neighbors (if you're standing in front of my house, look to your right and that's them, currently and inexplicably flying a banty-rooster flag), code name The Bothertons, once.

They've lived beside us for two years, having replaced the utterly lovable Suzanne and Jim, whose neighborliness I still miss.

It's time to work the Bothertons over again. Actually it's well and truly past time, but that's about to be both remedied and explained.

If you thrill to misanthropic maunderings of the subdivision kind, do keep reading.

Should you have a sensitivity to snark-casm directed at one's fellow man (and wife), do click out before there's a reaction.

Trust me; if you go with what's behind door number two, you will not be missed.

Still on board?

Let's weigh anchor.

In June of 2013 I walked outside early one morning -- like, the birdies were still doing scale-runs in warmup -- and in the dawn's early light my eyes beheld something that gave considerable pause.

As in, I stood for several seconds -- perhaps entire minutes -- with a slack jaw, staring.

Where was I staring? Over in the direction of the aforementioned neighbors' property.

Specifically, where it adjoins our property, the two suburban tracts bisected only by a standard-issue -- and completely necessary for my sanity -- privacy fence.

And why was Jenny the Pirate doing that? Staring, that is?

Because where only thin air and the glorious view of millions of leaves and branches (our neighbors' lot is larger than ours, and heavily wooded) had been a few days previous, there now stood the beginnings of a large-ish -- and most unwelcome -- building.

We'd been out of town for a few days, attending the funeral of my aunt.

Construction had begun in our absence. The walls were already up; if one thing led to another in a predictable way, the roof would be next.

The whole thing was wedged so tightly between two trees, it was unclear to me how it had even been possible to fit it in there.

And so close to my fence, I could have put my fingers between the boards and touched it. Inches.

The boorish nabes might as well have gone ahead and put their construction project in my back yard.

Irate, I went inside and woke TG to ask him if he'd seen the monstrosity.

He hadn't; it had been dark when we returned home from Atlanta the night before.

But TG revealed that Mr. Botherton had told him he would be "putting" a "small shed" beside the fence.

He'd even shown TG exactly where it would be.

However, Botherton had neglected to add, imply, indicate, or even allude to the fact that said shed would be basically the size, not of any normal shed, but of a one-car garage or even a small house.

After TG got up, he came outside to see the Bothertons' in-progress "shed."

As I recall, my beloved turned a whiter shade of pale. He didn't like the shed any more than I. But more importantly, he knew it would be awhile before he stopped hearing about it.

From me, that is.

Jenny charms the birds right out of the trees, has such a pleasant outlook, plays so beautifully with others.

Said no one ever.

Several days later, the shed was finished. And if possible, it was even bigger and unsightlier than I had imagined it would be.

Still fuming, I emailed the president of our HOA.

I hasten to add that I do not live in a hoity-toity type of neighborhood where a few people with nothing better to do police everyone else, reporting homeowners if a rose bush gets too tall or if a non-pedigreed dog tinkles on their mailbox.

The HOA to which I refer is basically toothless and I, a non-dues paying member, was fully aware. But I felt contacting its president was my first line of defense.

You know: channels.

And fine gentleman that he is, the prez was sympathetic -- said he totally felt my pain -- to my plight but powerless to do anything about it.

However. Wanting to help, he gave me a number to call, and a name to go with it.

His advice was that I start by determining whether our neighbor had obtained a building permit.

That was tantamount to throwing medium-rare steak at a starving carnivore. Digits trembling, I eagerly placed the call.

It was wonderful. The person to whom I spoke confirmed -- almost immediately, inspiring a frisson of hope -- that neither Botherton had bothered to get a permit to build so much as a birdhouse.

And the official promised that, within a few hours, someone from their office would be out to investigate. You know: We're from the Government and we're here to help.

Which indeed happened. But the news wasn't good. For me anyway. Well, for either of us, as it turned out.

Because although it was being built on a concrete slab, the shed didn't feature enough square footage to require a permit. Also relevant was the fact that Botherton insisted he would not be running electricity to his new eyesore.

"It's just for storage of some stuff that won't fit in the house," he promised the authorities.

That's funny because several times since then I've heard him operating power tools in there. Begging the question, does Mrs. Botherton know he's sawing her extra furniture in half?

But wait.

The official visit yielded an interesting -- if basically useless -- tidbit of information.

Botherton had built his shed too close to our fence.

By exactly two inches.

And he was facing both being fined for having done that, and with being obliged to appease us in some way, in order to obtain an easement.

I let TG go over there and hammer it out, because TG's middle name is Diplomacy.

Whereas mine is ... never mind.

You won't believe! The shed was built; it was on a slab and there were pilings anchoring it into the ground. Portable it most assuredly was not.

So this was Botherton's solution: remove the siding from the back. Making the shed two inches smaller.

Of course it's the back that we have to look at every time we glance out of the window or step onto our deck to visit our pool.

I think Botherton knew that nobody expected him to rip the siding off the back of his new shed.

The only other solution? We magnanimous Webers would need to sign a waiver giving him permission to use the two inches of dirt and air that technically were not his to use. 

 Short of an act of piracy -- or lobbing hand grenades over the fence -- I think it's fair to say I was out of options.

But wait.

Ahead of the day when a notary (summoned and paid by Botherton) came to secure our signatures on said waiver, I spent five or ten minutes preparing a document of my own.

It was a statement asserting that I was signing the waiver under protest. Meaning, I didn't want to but I was in effect being given no other choice.

In it, I correctly identified the shed as wholly unnecessary (next to the fence; they have lots of land and could have put it somewhere else) and an "aesthetic nuisance."

Which it is.

And I pointed out that its existence in that spot devalues my property.

Which it does.

Anyway, later some sort of baked offering appeared on our kitchen counter -- Mrs. Botherton had handed it off to TG in the yard, I think -- along with a note from our neighbors, explaining ad nauseam how long and hard they'd looked for a shed that struck just the right note of both attractiveness and functionality, and whining about how much it had cost.

Tacky, tacky, tacky. Don't talk about what things cost.

The language was stiff; clearly they were offended deeply by my calling their two-windowed baby an aesthetic nuisance.

But as a sop -- because they know putting that shed there was a bonehead move -- they invited us to "decorate" the back of their shed any way we wanted.

Really?

I'm considering taking bids from local artists to paint a larger-than-life depiction of Captain Jack Sparrow back there.

But do you know what the Bothertons didn't do, have never done to this very day?

They've never seen -- because they've never asked to, because they don't care -- what their shed looks like from our point of view. From our side of the fence.

They were spared the exclamations of morbid fascination when family members first caught sight of the beige blight of vinyl siding looming incongruently over our pool area.

Now? Today -- well, this summer?

The Bothertons have seen fit to erect a veritable forest of umbrellas and shelters in their back yard.

I'm serious. If you look over there (which I'm glad to say, you must make a concerted effort to do), it's one umbrella, shaded swing, and portable pavilion after another.

At least nine of them. I think that qualifies as a welter.

Like a poolside obstacle course that you don't go over, but under.

But the kicker? A red canvas shelter-type thing has been placed right next to the fence over by our pool pump.

And in that spot they're building something else.

The project was started but looks to have been suspended. There's a ladder, and lumber sticking up.

Maybe I'll change the Bothertons' code name to The Beavertons. Or, Mr. and Mrs. Botherton Beavers.

For beavers, more than any other creature, change their landscape.

But unlike the activities of our neighbors, it's usually for the better.

This has been my opinion, and at least partly satirical. Thank you for reading.

When we move to the (neighborless) country, I shall inform you immediately.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

Friday
Aug152014

SkyWatch Friday: My view for breakfast

If you've been paying attention you know I'm opposed to air travel.

As in, I won't do it.

The last time I flew was in 2007 when Andrew graduated from BMT in San Antonio.

And that's how I plan to leave it. In fact if I get my way I'll never fly again.

Without a generous serving of valium.

Unless Johnny Depp sends that private jet to pick me up.

Seriously. If Johnny texts Dearest Jennifer, my Gulfstream G550 is idling on the tarmac at Columbia Metropolitan airport, pack yer pirate duds and make haste ... well then.

Wheels up in thirty.

Until then, no. Just no.

So I would have a kid with all kinds of ants in his pants to get airborne at least five times a week.

This past Tuesday he was part of an aircrew that took off for Hawaii en route to Guam for a 21-day deployment.

At eight thirty that evening I received this text from my little tumbleweed:

Just landed in Hawaii

So I wanted to know where in Hawaii he was. On the big island?

No, we are on Honolulu, we passed the big island coming in

(Actually he was in Honolulu, on Oahu. But still.)

Here is the island coming in, you can see diamond head volcano

Indeed, right there it is.

I wanted to know if he was staying on base. That would be Hickam AFB.

Nope we are at Outrigger Resort Waikiki ;-) DBJ

J is for Jealous, DB is for Don't Be, and despite the fact that she who won't fly doesn't stand a chance of making it from South Carolina to the South Pacific, I was. Sort of.

I texted was he serious?

Yup base billeting is all full

Then:

Haha yes I'm serious

So I Googled Outrigger Resort Waikiki and was duly impressed and I texted my son that it sure looked luxurious.

Haha thanks for paying your taxes

Oh, well, you know. You're welcome. Although last time I checked, I hadn't any choice.

But I'm glad to pay taxes for American heroes to stay in a nice place for one night if base billeting is full.

And I told him so.

Haha yea I know, we sure are lucky, all of the passengers from our base that flew out here with us are all on base in billeting, they are so mad. Haha

Later Andrew texted the picture at the top of this post.

View from my room

And a few minutes later, this photo:

You know: the Hawaiian-resort-balcony-in-my-flight-suit selfie.

I texted back: You hot dog, don't fall. And: You look tired.

It was a long day not gonna lie.

So I said I hoped he slept like a little bitty baby that night.

But there was lots of day left in his Polynesian paradise and my guess is, the boy didn't sleep for many more hours.

Wednesday afternoon (South Carolina time) he texted this photo:

My view for breakfast

A few hours later he embarked on the four-thousand-mile flight to Guam, during which he crossed the International Date Line.

There's a fourteen-hour time difference between Guam and South Carolina.

So when my phone went ding at four oh seven Thursday morning, I was sound asleep.

Made it to Guam, completely exhausted

It had been an eleven-hour trip, on top of the nine-hour flight he'd endured the day before.

I came awake enough to reply that I hoped he'd be able to get some rest.

Then I went back to sleep and had lurid dreams of a scary Guam-like place.

I waited until late Thursday afternoon local time to text him again, when it was about seven thirty Friday morning in Guam.

He had awakened several hours before that, Jet Lag sitting on the bed beside him poking sticks in Andrew's eyes and laughing its mean old head off.

Aloha Boomer!

I wanted to know if he was flying that day (I hoped not).

No I don't fly until Monday, have a couple briefings to go to today

I texted: You're in tomorrow ... so weird.

I know it's really weird, lost a day but I will get it back on the way home with two days in Hawaii ;)

At which time his breakfast view will likely not be of Waikiki Beach.

But that's okay because it'll still be paradise.

He hopes to pay his respects at Pearl Harbor on the return trip.

I'm grateful that my son is serving his country and enjoying his life.

And if in the sky is where he wants to be, I'm glad he gets the opportunity.

As for me, I won't miss an opportunity to stay on the ground. But I'll be looking up.

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Happy Friday ~ Happy Weekend

Wednesday
Aug132014

Wordless Wednesday

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Monday
Aug112014

Grand design

Every time I see my grandson, he's changed so much.

He's two and a half now. No, he hasn't got blue hair and cartoon features.

That's a Gil mask. Gil from Bubble Guppies.

Don't be hard on yourself; until Saturday, I'd never heard of them either.

TG and I attended a wedding near Asheville on Friday evening.

No; the theme wasn't Bubble Guppies. It was more of a rustic affair.

But when the festivities had nearly concluded, we said our farewells and headed for Lenoir.

Where, the next day, we had a great time with Stephanie and Joel and the kids.

Melanie and Allissa were all set to come home with us, to stay a few days and hang out with baby Dagny.

The last order of business before hitting the road south was a birthday party at the church.

Hence the Gil and Bubble Puppy masks.

Which I find creepy.

But once, at Disney World, I got scared out of my wits by Chip and Dale.

Long story.

Big Andrew -- the uncle -- and Rambo were in Columbia when we arrived at Audrey and Erica's house for supper. 

Rambo is staying with us for three weeks while Andrew is deployed on a mission to Guam.

Dagny isn't traumatized by all the hubbub.

In this photo -- taken about ten days ago -- she was merely wondering why she'd been swaddled in the middle of the day.

Do you know, swaddling is the name of the baby game now?

The next time you go to a baby shower, give a swaddler. Swaddle. Some swaddling clothes. 

Even if she appears confused at first, the new mother will be thanking you profusely once she realizes the value of your gift.

Swaddled babies sleep better and longer.

Knowledge is power.

In completely unrelated news, I have been commissioned to write yet another article for American Cemetery.

It's due today.

So here I go, to add the final touches and send my story into the ether.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Monday

Wednesday
Aug062014

Wordless Wednesday