Bring Me That Horizon

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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
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Easy On The Goods
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    starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, William Eythe
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    starring Tilda Swinton, Donald Crowhurst, Jean Badin, Clare Crowhurst, Simon Crowhurst
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    starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim, Nancy Olson, Fred Clark
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    starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Edgar Buchanan, Beulah Bondi
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    starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Porter Hall, Jean Heather
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That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ RIP JAVIER ~

1999-2016

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

Simple. Easy To Remember.

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Thursday
Sep272018

A past that lasts

When TG and I took Audrey and Dagny to the Georgia Aquarium last June for Dagny's fourth birthday -- that was the same trip where we visited the grave of JonBenét Ramsey -- we were less than a week away from our thirty-ninth wedding anniversary.

Since my family lived for several years in the Atlanta area in the '60s and '70s, as we drove toward our hotel I began to notice Interstate signs bearing the names of roads that were familiar to me.

We often visit Atlanta; most recently we'd been there last September, a few days after Andrew and Brittany became engaged, to take in a Braves game at SunTrust Park.

And in November, it will be two years since Erica and I spent the weekend in Atlanta, and visited with old friends. (That was a few days before Erica and Chad -- now Mr. and Mrs. Porter -- started dating.)

In fact, on that trip, on an insanely sunny, too-hot-to-be-November afternoon, I took Erica to see the church where TG and I were married on June 16, 1979.

I hadn't been back there since 1987, when I flew alone from our home in the Chicagoland area to attend a church service and a dinner-on-the-grounds reunion of folks from "back in the day."

Naturally, as Erica and I drove toward the former Forrest Hills Baptist Church in Decatur, I wasn't sure what to expect as far as how the church property, which loomed so large to me both as a teen and a young adult (in my early childhood I was subjected to no church influence whatsoever), would look after thirty years.

I knew that the church building -- built around 1970 under the leadership of the late Curtis W. Hutson, the pastor who married TG and me -- and grounds had been sold to another congregation in the early '90s.

One might be justified in expecting that any manner and number of changes would have been made in the intervening years.

And so I was more than taken aback when Erica and I drove onto the property in November of 2016 to find that, with the exception of glass front doors leading into the sanctuary instead of the solid white ones that I remembered, the exterior of the building had not changed.

At all.

Ditto for the grounds, which are virtually unchanged since the first time I saw them, when I was fifteen years old.

On that occasion, a kind caretaker of the property noticed that we had parked and were looking around, and we told him why we were there. He offered to take us inside, where things had undergone considerable cosmetic alteration.

The sanctuary is now a different color scheme, and the platform has been built out to be larger than before. The aforesaid glass doors replaced solid ones leading in and out of both the vestibule and the building itself.

Other than that, I gazed in a quiet fit of sentimentality at the place where TG and I had stood when we took our vows thirty-seven years before. 

Fast-forward seventeen months to early June of 2018, when at my urging TG steered our car again to the church where we were married.

TG hadn't seen the place since our wedding day; Audrey had never seen it at all and of course, little Dagny was a newcomer too.

I took pictures of the classic fan-shaped church architecture, noting the right side of the building as you're looking at it, where in my wedding gown and carrying a large bouquet of gardenias, I made my way around on the sidewalk with my bridesmaids, so that my groom wouldn't see me until I walked down the aisle.

Cars going by on the road fifty yards away slowed and a few honked; everyone loves a June bride.

On one's wedding day I daresay no one pictures one's children and grandchildren standing in the same place, nearly forty years in the future.

On this day there was no one with keys available to let us look around inside.

So I took pictures of TG looking up at the door of the fellowship hall where we held both our rehearsal dinner and, the next day, our distinctly Southern reception of tiny sandwiches and assorted finger foods, served with punch and, of course, wedding cake.

TG walked on the breezeway where we came out into a warm June afternoon, holding hands, having changed into regular clothes, TG holding his rented tux in a plastic suit bag, just before the remaining revelers pummeled us with rice and we boarded TG's 1974 Toyota Celica for the trip to Charleston, South Carolina, for our honeymoon.

Many of the people I loved in that place, at that time, are gone. People who made a profound difference in my life. So there was a poignant, wistful part of the experience too. As much as bricks and mortar can be a part of someone, that church is a part of me.

They say you can't go back. And yet we did, and it was special, and I am glad.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Thursday

Reader Comments (6)

I love this! It really is special to be able to go back and see places that had such meaning in our youth. The church I grew up and was married in is only 20 minutes from my home. I've been in it many times since our wedding and I must admit that I have kind of taken that for granted.
That picture of you and TG is the best and I think you need to print it! (And - you two look great after almost 40 years of marriage)

September 27, 2018 | Unregistered CommenterMari

@Mari ... I'm sure you haven't taken that church for granted but it is so nice that any time you want, you can go and see it, and show the kids and grandkids where it all began for you and Bob. Thanks for the compliment! Audrey took that picture. With my camera, haahaha xoxo

September 27, 2018 | Registered CommenterJennifer

What a beautiful church in which to be married! It looks like a Baptist church. It is lovely and I bet your wedding was lovely as well. I love the picture of you and TG...….you and TG have never lost your style!

September 28, 2018 | Unregistered CommenterCheryl

@Cheryl ... Yes; it was the Forrest Hills Baptist Church in Decatur, a suburb of Atlanta. I don't know if we still have style but we hope to have substance ... and a fair amount of longevity. xoxo

September 29, 2018 | Registered CommenterJennifer

Such a wonderful visit.
I am lucky in that "my" church is not too far away and I can visit it any time I want too.
My grandfather preached there, my parents were married and buried from there.
I was married there, my children were baptized there and one married there, as was my little sister.
The church building hasn't changed much, except they have one of those stupid, big video screens in front with the words from the hymns so people don't have to hold and sing from their hymnals, which upsets me, but...every time I enter the sanctuary, I will have that peaceful feeling I have always had.

September 30, 2018 | Unregistered CommenterJudy

@Judy ... I've never understood why anyone would have a problem with singing out of a hymnal. Too lazy to hold it? Afraid of tradition? We still sing hymns straight out of the hymnbook and I wouldn't want it any other way. xoxo

September 30, 2018 | Registered CommenterJennifer

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