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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Thursday
Mar292012

Ain't no wasted time

My baby turns twenty-three today.

I know you're thinking: "How is that possible?"

Me too.

Andrew's exploits involving anything that's round, rubber, and rolls are legendary within our family but I have one, favorite story.

According to TG, it happened when Andrew was five.

We'd given him a little two-wheeled bicycle with a set of sturdy training wheels. He rode around on it for a few months.

Then one day he asked his dad if he could ditch the baby trainers and fly down the street on a real man's bike.

We had a very steep driveway and at the top of the driveway was a blacktop pad large enough to park three cars.

To one side of it was our garage.

TG removed the training wheels from Andrew's bike out on the flat part of the driveway.

"Wait, son, and I'll teach you how to ride a bike," he told the boy.

TG turned his back and took about ten seconds to put the training wheels on a shelf in the garage.

When he looked again, Andrew was effortlessly cruising the blacktop.

No training wheels -- or training -- necessary.

From that moment, Andrew was off to the races. It seems I've spent half my life trying to catch him.

We did get him to stand still once, to have his picture made beside the Statue of Liberty. I don't know why he's making that goofy face.

He still loves his country and serves her.

And he's a good son in so many other ways. He's thoughtful of me and his dad, and of his sisters.

We don't see him often enough but he's always in our hearts and minds.

To My Son

Do you know that your soul is of my soul such part,
That you seem to be fiber and cord of my heart?
None other can pain me as you, dear, can do,
None other can please me or praise me as you.

Remember the world will be quick with its blame
If shadow of stain ever darken your name,
"Like mother like son" is a saying so true,
The world will judge largely of Mother by you.

Be yours then the task, if task it shall be
To force the proud world to do homage to me,
Be sure it will say when its verdict you've won,
"She reaped as she sowed, Lo! This is her son."

by Margaret Johnston Griffin

On a considerably less serious note, here's our good buddy Tavin Dillard with a timely birthday wish.

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Happy Birthday, Andrew!

Happy Thursday to everyone else!

Monday
Mar262012

The untold want

The untold want, by life and land ne'er granted,

Now, Voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find.

~Walt Whitman~

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Thursday
Mar222012

Twenty-nine. No, really. She's twenty-nine!

Audrey turns twenty-nine today. And look who's got a greetin' for her.

Tavin Dillard himself, straight from the trailer park.

He's right about one thing: She is purty!

But then, she always was.

Happy Birthday, Audge. You're not getting older; you're getting better.

See you on Saturday to celebrate!

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One last item of business. I hope Audrey won't mind.

In looking through old photos for this post, I found what may be one of the only pictures I have of my late friend Susan.

The one I told you about on Tuesday.

She's holding Erica in this picture. Or Buster Brown. I'm not sure which.

But that was her smile.

Susan Beth Spangler

March 20, 1958 - October 5, 2011

Rest in Peace

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Tuesday
Mar202012

Each happy bygone day

Guess what?

I like to go places but I don't particularly enjoy travel.

Figure that one out and when you do, let me know what it means.

Be that as it may, while in Georgia with Erica last week, I had an experience as unexpected as it was poignant.

I wouldn't have missed it for anything.

It involved reuniting with Sherry, a girlhood friend I hadn't seen in nearly two decades.

Rather than tell you all the ins and outs of that situation and risk boring you to bits because you don't know my friend, I'll simply share with you a few poems plus several pictures I took while I was away.

I don't know about you but my heart gets a trifle bruise-ey upon looking back, even to prod at sweet memories.

At such times poetry soothes while pictures serve to evoke the beauty that is all around us all the time if only we remember to look.

Speaking of poetry, not long after I returned home, Sherry sent me an email containing a poem with which I was familiar.

You probably are as well:

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Make new friends; keep the old.
Those are silver; these are gold.
Friendships that have stood the test
Of time and change are surely best.
Brow may wrinkle; hair may gray.
Friendship never knows decay.
For 'mid old friends, tried and true,
Once more we our youth renew.
Cherish friendship in your breast;
New is good, but old is best.
Make new friends; keep the old.
Those are silver; these are gold.

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Also when I returned home, there was a gift on my desk: a belated birthday present from my son, who had been in town for a few days while I was gone.

The gift was a book: The Best Loved Poems of the American People.

Andrew knows how much I love poetry anthologies. I spent a half hour perusing my book even before I unpacked my suitcases. While doing so I found this uncannily appropriate poem:

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All to myself I find the way
Back to each golden yesterday,
Faring in fancy until I stand
Clasping your ready, friendly hand;
The picture seems half true, half dream,
And I keep its color and its gleam
All to myself.


All to myself I hum again
Fragments of some old-time refrain,
Something that comes at fancy's choice,
And I hear the cadence of your voice:
Sometimes 'tis dim, sometimes 'tis clear,
But I keep the music that I hear
All to myself.


All to myself I hold and know
All of the days of long ago --
Wonderful days when you and I
Owned all the sunshine in the sky:
The days come back as the old days will,
And I keep their tingle and their thrill
All to myself.


All to myself! My friend, do you
Count all the memories softly, too?
Summer and Autumn, Winter, Spring,
The hopes we cherish, and everything?
They course my veins as a draft divine,
And I keep them wholly, solely mine --
All to myself.


All to myself I think of you,
Think of the things we used to do,
Think of the things we used to say,
Think of each happy, bygone day;
Sometimes I sigh and sometimes I smile,
But I keep each olden, golden while
All to myself.


by Wilbur Dick Nesbit

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That about sums it up. However, I would like to add one more thing.

Today would have been the fifty-fourth birthday of another dear old friend, a college roommate with whom I kept in touch on and off all through the years.

Her name was Susan Beth Spangler. Susan succumbed to cancer on October 5, 2011, at her parents' home in Inverness, Florida. Susan was one of those rare people who always urged me to look for the beauty. It was her lifelong practice and something at which she excelled.

Knowing her greatly enriched my life.

I miss Susan but I'll see her again for she had a clear testimony of faith in Christ. For that reason -- and none other -- I believe she's in Heaven today.


O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.

But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

I Corinthians 15:55-57

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Happy Spring!

Thursday
Mar152012

Children in the family plots

Oh hi.

Yes! I am still among the living.

See, it's like this. Last Sunday I drove two hundred miles west to McDonough, Georgia, to spend the week with Erica.

You may remember she teaches fifth grade here.

Next year she'll be teaching high school math. I did not excel at math in school so let's move along.

Suffice it to say our third girl obtained the math gene from her twice-cursed pirate father because you can be dead sure it didn't come from me.

In my own defense I do believe I more than compensate for my deficiencies in math with my strengths in language.

Not to mention my Internet savvy. Savvy?

Be all of that as it may, when I got here one of the first things I said to Erica was: "You got the wireless Internet hooked up; right?"

This was Sunday evening and my daughter looked right at me and told what she hoped was the truth (I don't want to say she lied) but had to have known in her heart of hearts was never going to happen.

"Tomorrow," she said, watching my face for the moue of dismay that would inevitably cloud it.

But I took it relatively well. I could wait until Monday morning to blog and tweet and check emails and so forth and so on, you know the drill.

However it became obvious that my child was allowing herself to live in a fantasy world because see, where her little ducks should have been lined up neatly they had all wandered off the reservation and were touring the next county.

As in, she didn't call AT&T to arrange for Internet service until the day before my visit. And I don't mean to overly harsh my girl but only a complete nebbish would think AT&T was going to accomplish by Monday what you asked them to do on Saturday.

In all fairness to the Boo, the person she spoke with on Saturday misled her, causing her to believe everything would be taken care of by Monday morning.

But on Monday they told her it would be Wednesday before anyone elevated a digit to restore wireless Internet to her residence. And that was the expedited date.

Perhaps I should explain at this juncture that until recently, Erica had wireless Internet at her house. When TG and I were here last November I effortlessly blogged from her living room.

But in December AT&T did something unforgivably nefarious to the "pay this amount" line of her account statement and Erica became ... uhm, shall we say a trifle upset and told them to ... well. She no longer had wireless Internet as of that day.

Fast forward and back up a few hours to yesterday afternoon when, glancing out of a window at the rear of Erica's house, I happened to spot an AT&T van trundling down the long drive to another house situated about a hundred yards behind the Boo's abode. This is semi-rural living, you understand.

When I saw the van this thought came to me: That guy doesn't know where he's going.

I watched as he slowly parked, slowly exited the van, slowly placed not one, not two, but three orange cones at the front of the van (even though there was not another house within comfortable shouting distance and not a single human being in evidence, only woods behind him), slowly affixed a busy-looking tool belt to himself, slowly shambled down the walk and up the steps to the front porch of the wrong house, and with an attitude of indifference so pronounced I could interpret it clearly even from where I stood far away and behind a window, knocked on the door.

And waited.

I know who lives there and I knew they weren't home.

I stepped out onto Erica's back deck and waved and yoo-hooed to the AT&T guy, who slowly swiveled his head in my direction. I got his attention. He hollered something about the address and I gestured that this here was the house where he was needed.

He slowly walked down the steps off the porch and down the walk to his van, where he slowly put the three orange cones away before slowly driving back up the drive, where he slowly got out and slowly put the cones back in place.

?????

Little wonder it takes AT&T four days to send someone out to mash a button, flip a switch, whatever they do to restore suspended service. The speed of their "workers" makes geriatric snails look like Olympic distance runners.

At any rate it took him nearly an hour to do what he had to do and then we had to wait several more hours before Erica could jump through about twenty-five additional hoops and get us online.

By then it was so late last night I didn't have the energy to compose a blog post. It was all I could do to eke out a few tweets about pink slime.

For example this one: It's only a matter of time before pink slime is one of the mystery basket ingredients on #Chopped.

But I digress.

Erica and I have been having a wonderful time. On Monday and Tuesday we visited two cemeteries together and I combed another all by me onesie.

I have been fortunate enough to do a great deal of graving in recent days, both in Columbia as well as in North Carolina and Georgia. And I've noticed so many children who lived less than a year, or one year, or a few days or months more than a year.

The burial plots of two families in particular caused me to stand and stare and read and pore over tombstone data more than usual.

There was the little Brown clan at Belleview Cemetery in Lenoir, North Carolina, which family apparently consisted partly of a lady who died in 1944 at the age of thirty-six.

Although her marker pointedly identifies her as Miss Goldie Frances Brown, the graves of two children sharing her last name lie on either side of her and I believe she was their mother.

Little Clyde Ernest Brown was born and passed away on the same day in May of 1943, sixteen months before the demise of Goldie Frances.

His sister, Baby Lillian Frances, was born on September 2, 1944, exactly one week before the death of her mother. She survived only a few months after Goldie Frances passed on.

I grieved for them and wondered at their situation, which seems to have been unorthodox for the time in which they lived. But not by today's standards! Today Goldie Frances would be that paragon of all virtues and valiant selfless endurer of every conceivable hardship, the sainted single mother.

That is, if I'm reading the tea leaves correctly. Just go with me on this.

At Memorial Cemetery in McDonough this past Monday, Erica and I marveled at the Lemon family graves.

According to her monument which features an elaborate statue of a woman holding an infant, Eudora Lemon passed away on June 4, 1901, at the age of forty-one.

Her epitaph is simple but glowing: Thy life was but a crystal stream / Of virtue, grace and beauty / On whose bright surface ever gleamed / The smiling face of duty.

Buried near Eudora are her two daughters: Erma and Mary Elizabeth.

Erma was born on April 15, 1893 and died on June 4, 1901, the same day as her mother. She was eight.

Eudora and Erma died one day before the fortieth birthday of Alex, their husband and father.

Mary Elizabeth was born on June 6, 1900 (one day after her father's thirty-ninth birthday) and died on July 18, 1901, six weeks after the passing of her mother and big sister, at the age of eleven months.

Alex Lemon hung in there until 1904, when he died -- heartbroken, I have no doubt -- at the young age of forty-two.

All of which makes me realize once again that, wireless Internet or pink slime or no, I am very blessed.

And so are you.

That is all.

Happy Thursday!