Bring Me That Horizon

Welcome to jennyweber dot com

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Home of Jenny the Pirate

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Our four children

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Our eight grandchildren

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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

  

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

Hoist The Colors

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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

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 <

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

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THE DREAMERS

In the dawn of the day of ages,
 In the youth of a wondrous race,
 'Twas the dreamer who saw the marvel,
 'Twas the dreamer who saw God's face.


On the mountains and in the valleys,
By the banks of the crystal stream,
He wandered whose eyes grew heavy
With the grandeur of his dream.

The seer whose grave none knoweth,
The leader who rent the sea,
The lover of men who, smiling,
Walked safe on Galilee --

All dreamed their dreams and whispered
To the weary and worn and sad
Of a vision that passeth knowledge.
They said to the world: "Be glad!

"Be glad for the words we utter,
Be glad for the dreams we dream;
Be glad, for the shadows fleeing
Shall let God's sunlight beam."

But the dreams and the dreamers vanish,
The world with its cares grows old;
The night, with the stars that gem it,
Is passing fair, but cold.

What light in the heavens shining
Shall the eye of the dreamer see?
Was the glory of old a phantom,
The wraith of a mockery?

Oh, man, with your soul that crieth
In gloom for a guiding gleam,
To you are the voices speaking
Of those who dream their dream.

If their vision be false and fleeting,
If its glory delude their sight --
Ah, well, 'tis a dream shall brighten
The long, dark hours of night.

> Edward Sims Van Zile <

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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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That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ RIP JAVIER ~

1999 - 2016

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

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~ RIP SHILOH ~

2017 - 2021

My Tar Heel Granddog

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~ RIP RAMBO ~

2008 - 2022

Andrew's Beloved Pet

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Tuesday
Jul302019

What's past is prologue

The old Stickney School was next door

The above picture was taken on Easter Sunday, March 29, 1964, in Chicago, Illinois.

It is of me (in the white coat), my big sister Kay, and our mother.

Here's one taken on the same day, again of me and my sister, outfitted to play in the spring snow:

Sunday Funday, Sixties style

Three weeks earlier, I had turned seven. Kay had turned eight the previous December. Mom was twenty-seven.

And again on the same morning, this one of our mother and her then-husband, Jake:

Life has a way of snowballing

Kay took that picture of them on the stoop of the building where we occupied a small apartment.

From my birth until I went to college at age seventeen, we lived in eleven states. That's not even counting the state of confusion, of which I at least was a permanent resident.

The reason I know the date and place of these pictures is that Mom wrote it on the back of the photos:

Your children will thank you for photo info

Although my childhood memories are sketchy until later than this, I remember many details of that day.

I remember being taken into a warm, fragrant coffee shop, and perched high on a stool at the counter, where I (and my sister too, I assume, although she has no memory of it) was given a donut -- the kind you selected from beneath a glass dome -- and milk to wash it down with.

And I recall that later, when we returned to our apartment which was kept in immaculate condition by our mother, Jake (we were required to call him Daddy even though that's not what he was to us and we liked him not a bit, because we were afraid of him) had gone to a lot of trouble to make it appear as though an oversized bunny rabbit had visited in our absence and left a trail of goodies for Kay and me to find and place in our baskets.

I switched places with her

In case you're wondering, he did that by obtaining some snow with dirt mixed in, and pursed the fingers of one hand together to mimic the paws of a rabbit, and dipped them in the slush, and placed "bunny tracks" on surfaces where they'd show up (such as white tile in the bath) after they dried.

So I guess he wasn't all bad (Jake, I mean. There is no Easter bunny).

It was pretty convincing. At least to a gormless seven-year-old. Anything that led to candy worked for me.

Recalling how I used to twist my hair

You can probably tell from reading this that I've been doing a little bit of research and a great deal of reminiscing. And that's because I'm working on writing a memoir.

(Yes; I've been working on it for nearly ten years. I'll thank you not to snicker.)

Which leads me to the reason I'm sharing these pictures with you today.

Studying this series of photographs late this past winter, I realized that we were coming up on the fifty-fifth anniversary of that day in late March.

Fifty-five Marches later

And I realized that twenty-five years to the day after that wintry Easter Sunday that I remember so well, my fourth child -- our son Andrew -- was born.

So I invited my mom and sister to come to Columbia on March 29, 2019, and on Andrew's thirtieth birthday we attempted to recreate the photograph of the three of us taken in Chicago fifty-five years earlier.

Four generations

(I would have loved to truly recreate it in front of the Stickney School on West Hollywood Avenue in the Edgewater district -- the building is still there, although now it houses condominiums -- but that wasn't an option.)

The building next door to the Stickney School, where we lived, was torn down in the early '70s to make way for a modern apartment complex.

Putting our slant on it

If you're interested in seeing that, click here.

Click down the street a bit -- past the UPS truck -- and you'll see the building in front of which we posed. There's a wrought-iron fence there now, about where our mother was standing.

Click to embiggen

Other than that, it's unchanged.

Lots has happened to me in fifty-five years, haaahaha. And to you, if you're old enough.

We are family

On the day my mother, my sister, and I got together to commemorate the fifty-fifth anniversary of that day in Chicago, we were joined by two of my three daughters, plus one of my three granddaughters.

Mom, Kay, Audrey, Erica, Dagny, and I first went to Sun Ming for lunch. Then we went to Irmo Town Park, where these pictures were taken of the four generations.

Spring and everything

Andrew was enjoying his thirtieth birthday elsewhere -- probably at work but he and Brittany may have been out of town. It's been four months; I don't remember it the way I do fifty-five March twenty-ninths ago.

Speaking of Andrew, he's going to be deployed again in a few weeks, to Afghanistan. There, he and other American heroes will put themselves in harm's way to defend our freedoms.

Two of my own lovely daughters

This past Sunday, fifty-five years and four months after the picture at the top of this post was taken, I posed with two of my girls, and also with TG and our boy.

(Our Brittany, expecting her own and Andrew's baby daughter, took these pictures.)

It's a big circle that has gone around and is coming around. It's our God-ordained place on the space time continuum. Our lives are but a vapor. We live with eternity in view.

My handsome men

And, looking both to the past and to the future, we greet each day with a great deal of gratitude and love.

I hope that you do the same.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesday

Reader Comments (12)

Well - that was lovely trip down memory lane! All the women in your family are so beautiful, both as youngsters and now. I think it's wonderful that you recreated those pictures.
Google earth is so cool! It looks like a very pretty area of the city.
Brittany is looking so cute!
Tell Andrew that we so appreciate his service. I know it's never easy to leave and leaving an expecting wife behind has to make it even harder.
PS - I absolutely love that last shot.

July 30, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterMari

@Mari ... When TG and I go to Chicago in September, I do plan to go back there and get a shot! I hope I don't GET shot, haaahaha ... yes I will tell Andrew what you said. It will be difficult for both of them while he's gone but God's got this~! xoxo

July 30, 2019 | Registered CommenterJennifer

Thank Andrew for his service, I know how hard it must be to leave Brittany-and the rest of his family behind. His service is greatly appreciated.

When your mom was young she looked so much like Annette Funicello, she was & is a lovely lady.

July 31, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterJane

@Jane ... I will do that and my mom will enjoy the compliment you paid her. Thanks for stopping by! xoxo

July 31, 2019 | Registered CommenterJennifer

Jenny
Sweet photos...
And thanks for stopping by my blog....you will love the bees wax spray....
Nancy
wildoakdesigns.blogspot.com

August 1, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterNancy

Such a heartwarming post, Jenny. Beautiful people, beautiful places. I had to try and remember how many places we lived with Dad in the Navy. I'll pray for Andrew, for sure. Yes, thank him for his service.

It must have been difficult to call your beautiful mom's husband, Dad or Daddy. I can only imagine. :(

And, listen up - there IS AN EASTER BUNNY! :)

xoxo

August 1, 2019 | Unregistered Commentersally

@Nancy ... you're welcome and thanks for the tip! xoxo

@Sally ... Nope. No Santa Claus either. But still, lots of reason to rejoice. Yes the word "Daddy" always curdled on my tongue. We can "make" children do lots of things but we can't force them to love us; that's for sure. xoxo

August 1, 2019 | Registered CommenterJennifer

Those were all lovely pictures. The last one ended the story and made me sad for some reason. I guess it is when you get as old as I am, looking back is so sad. Time has just about ended at least here on earth.
I am still looking for Brittany. Mary said something about a cute Brittany. I haven't seen her in a while. I am so happy that they are expecting a little girl.
I can hardly see what I am typing here so there may be a lot of mistakes.
You and your girls ……..so pretty! The men are not too shabby either!

August 1, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterCheryl

@Cheryl ... I know, the last picture is sad. It was just so pretty with the petals all over the walk (such a gorgeous day!) and the metaphor of everyone going away, getting smaller and smaller, was hard to resist. Yes we'll all be gone soon; it's a fact and I guess we best keep it on our minds because as I said, "eternity is in view." ... No, you're right -- there's no Brittany pictured. I don't know what Mari saw but Brittany was taking the pictures! I'll get a shot of her soon so you can see how cute she looks. Thanks for your kind comments and it's so good to "see" you again! xoxo

August 2, 2019 | Registered CommenterJennifer

I love this post, Jenny. Seeing the 4 generations of women together speaks of a a circle that continues to spiral in your life. Your mother’s smile melts my heart. I’m smiling back at all of you.

August 4, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterBarb

I will put Andrew back on my prayer list.Flying those planes, as he does, always make me a little scared and having him away when his first child is born, makes me very sad.
Aren't we lucky, well your Mom and I are, to still have 4 generation photos capable of being taken.
I have a new great grandson, but haven't had the opportunity for our 4 generations photo as yet. He's still wet behind the ears. LOL

August 4, 2019 | Unregistered CommenterJudy

@Barb ... I see that lovely smile of yours! Thanks, my friend. My mother has always had a beautiful and ready smile. xoxo

@Judy ... haaahaa you'll have time to get that shot. And I'm happy to say that Andrew will be home at the end of September, God willing, and the baby is due in early December. He would not miss the birth of that baby girl. But YES please do pray for him, because you're right: it is scary. But then, these days, everything is pretty scary. We're leaning hard on the Lord. xoxo

August 5, 2019 | Registered CommenterJennifer

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