My Halloween costume (With Update)

First, the real Trinity

Then me

UPDATE: Well I got second place in the contest. Go me! Who got first you ask?



Goth Brooks!!

Breaking news

Alright, it's just more celebrity gossip that struck me as funny. Ah the NSync closet! Not that I really want to know what secrets lie in its frilly depths, but this just made me giggle and snort.

Panties!!

And now that I have your attention.....

I read this today. It's all about the tramping up of pre-teen girls for Halloween. I will concede that they have a point. Luckily I do not have a daughter and so don't have to find a creative solution to this problem. I do, however, have a son who is probably about to see far more of his peer's flesh than I am really comfortable with. And with childhood obesity on the rise, that is bound to miles and miles of kiddie skin.

But unlike the article, I blame the whiny lazy parents. If your 10 year old comes waltzing out of your house on Halloween night looking like she should be gracing the windows of Amsterdam's red light district, it's your fault. The retailers couldn't sell them if parents wouldn't buy them. I know, even with the best efforts, kids will disobey their parents. Mine does. But for this particular night, you've had a few opportunities to prevent the junior Lolita from heading out on the town. The article states:

But how do you compromise with a kid who's begging to be a saucy witch when all you want to do is go back to the days when she wanted to be a lion cub or a Teletubby? There's no easy answer for that question.

Really? I think there is. I know in this day and age of progressive parenting that it has become unpopular, but you can tell your children 'No'. They will still love you once the fit is finished. Here's a bonus for you, they will actually respect you more. You will have the opportunity to become friends with your offspring once you have successfully shepherded them into adulthood. Parenting is a big job and you will make mistakes, don't complicate the matter by trying to be your child's friend right now. So here's how I propose the conversation should go at the store--

CHILD: Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! (insert extra blinks-it's a skill little girls use on dads) I found the perfect costume. Will you buy it for me Daddy? Pleeeeeeeaaaaase! (drawn out to further wrap dad around finger)
DAD: Let me see honey. (holds up 3 strips of fabric and a tiara) What is this supposed to be?
CHILD: It's Tramp-A-Rella Daddy! She's only the coolest crime fighting superhero. Duh. All the girls at school are gonna be so jealous. Oh yeah! I'm gonna need make-up too.
DAD: But Princess, where's the rest of it? I'm not going to spend 40 bucks on a costume that's missing pieces. Why don't you see if you can find the pants?
CHILD: *giggle. Daaaaddy, Tramp-A-Rella doesn't wear pants.
DAD: Oh I see. Then let's find something else. Tramp-A-Rella isn't really an appropriate costume for an 8 year old.
CHILD: But Daddy! All the girl......
DAD: (interrupting) No.
CHILD: (with tears) You never let me have anything cool. I don't like you anymore.
DAD: I'll get over it. And so will you. Besides, I think Princess Fiona would be more appropriate for your...uh...figure.
CHILD: But I want to be Tramp-A-Rella!
DAD: I said 'No.' Now you have 2 choices, find something that covers more than half of your body, or don't dress up for Halloween.

Whimpering will continue, but the argument is over. She might ask Mom, but that takes a whole different bag of tricks. She went to Dad in the first place because daddies are typically easier targets for little girl's manipulations. I don't have a little girl, but I was one once. I even asked my dad if he ever got a back ache from being wrapped around my little finger.

If somehow, the tramp-suit does make it to your home. Or if she decides to modify a perfectly respectable costume, you still don't have to let her leave the house in it.

For only a short period in our children's lives, we parents hold the cards. We provide transportation and the finances for every aspect of their lives. It is during this time that we get to attempt to instill some values in our children. I am by no stretch of the imagination the world's best mom. I don't bake cookies. I don't host cute parties with hats. I dread parent teacher conferences. Really, I don't like children (besides my own; I have a bias). I am only concerned with the little princesses because one day, my son will want to bring one home, and I want the future mother of my grandkids to have a solid head on her shoulders.

The Rage and the Pride

I can add absolutely nothing to the words of Oriana Fallaci. This will take time to read, but it is worth the investment. I will not attempt to summarize it.

I wish citizens of the United States felt so strongly about our country. Too many people have forgotten who they are. Or at least who they are supposed to be. The ever-tolerant liberals scream at perceived injustices. They would be very quick to ridicule me for refusing to clothe myself in bed sheets out of respect for these invaders. Don't misread my meaning. Those of differing views are welcome to practice them. They are not welcome to force me to do so. But I am straying from my point.

The radicals that we are fighting do not simply have different views from ours; they want to force their ideals upon us. They would rip the fabric of our nation in the rape of our precious freedoms Given their way, they would convert the world. Those that refused to convert would be executed. Their bodies defaced in service to a vengeful god. These radicals speak only the language of violence. Our freedom to practice whatever religion we choose makes them hate us more. The very freedom that allows people to speak out against this war makes these radicals want to kill us. Why should we be so encouraged to respect a culture that holds ours in such disdain?

I believe that all people are children of God. But belief in my God makes me an infidel and worthy of death to these radicals. (Notice I am not making these accusations against all Muslims) No matter how much I could love an accept the Osama bin Laden's of the world, these people will still want me dead. All because I have the freedom to not bow down to their god.

Seventeen Oklahoma lawmakers are taking heat for refusing a gift. That gift was a Quran. Rex Duncan's reason:

"Most of them, like all of most groups, are peaceful, law abiding citizens. But I would just simply like for some of those folks to come out publicly in opposition to the small group of radical Muslims who are doing terrible things in the name or religion," Duncan said.

And did they take the opportunity to denounce the violence publicly, no.

In response, the council's chairwoman reiterated that Islam is a religion of peace.

Instead they repeated what we've heard time and time again. It's not hard to find a Christian appalled by the crusades. Mr. Duncan even stated that most are peaceful, law abiding citizens. And yet, they will not say that the actions of a few radicals are wrong. The silence speaks volumes.

Ack Zombies!

Mindless drones wandering the city in search of brains! Hub has a fantastic article about how to be prepared for the eventuality of a zombie invasion. You can never be too careful.

Unfortunately, I find the article a little lacking. I mean, what if the zombie is in the form of an over-bleached, over-tanned trophy wife? It could happen. Just look here. That must be the explanation. She's a zombie. She keeps buying clothes and Starbucks, but what she really needs are brains. Delicious brains.

So the question here is what to do about this particular kind of zombie. Sturdy scissors are the solution. When she comes at you with her credit cards, simply slice up the worthless plastic. She'll be reduced to a shrieking pile of make-up and silicone, and you can walk away unscathed.

Don't worry about her six kids, the marker-wielding liberals will take care of them. It's all about the chiiiiillldren! Or so they say. Really they are just churning out entitlement hungry zombies. (See, I got back to the zombie point)

These are easy to conquer. Take their food stamps and give them lawn mowers or dust mops. This eliminates both the welfare zombies and the illegal-immigrant zombies in one swoop.

October 23, 1978

Yep, it's my birthday. That's the actual date of my emergence from my mother. Do the math, I'll wait.
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Are you finished? Or has the school system failed. Here's another minute.
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Don't you hate it when people add superfluous spaces? And make you do math while reading a blog? That's just wrong. I'll stop. I'm 29 today. Yep, the first time too. I'm told it will be the first of many times that I turn 29. That is, once I convince them that I'm not kidding. As of today, I'm not afraid of turning 30 or 40 or anything else. That may change in the next 364 days, or 10 years and 364 days, I just don't know. What annoys me is that everyone laughs when I tell them that I am 29 today. Seriously people. Do I look enough older than 29 that I should have any business lying about my age? The profile pic was taken last year; I don't think I look that much different but I will try and get a more recent one for your enjoyment.

So Happy Birthday to me! Yada. Yada. Yada. Didn't get me a gift? That's okay. I accept random donations. It's not tax deductible.

JK Rowling is a Pimp

Yep, I said it. You know why? Because she is whoring out one of her characters for a little publicity.

Harry Potter fans, the rumors are true: Albus Dumbledore, master wizard and Headmaster of Hogwarts, is gay.

Here's the story. Apparently, this is news. It has absolutely no bearing on the character and frankly, I think making it an issue cheapens the story somehow. You know, during the hours I spent reading these books, I never once wondered whether Albus Dumbledore preferred inies or outies. Now I have the answer to a question that I never even thought about asking.

Honestly, I don't want to know the details of what anyone wants to do with another consenting adults. I certainly don't care about the private life of a fictional character.

Well Mr Headmaster-Wizard, you better get out there and earn mama some more money before she has to slap you around. And let that be a lesson to all the young witches and wizards, Ms. Rowling wants her bling.

They stole it from us. The precious

Nope, not about Lord of the Rings in any way shape or form. Just me griping about unnatural time.

In March of this year, an hour was hijacked. That's right. Stolen while we slept. No one even left a note. I would have paid the ransom. But no. They stole it from us with promises that it would be returned in November. They make it sound like my precious hour is going on an extended vacation. I'm sure in reality they are keeping it a little room with no sunlight and only bread and water for sustenance. Right now, it's probably being subjected to daily water torture. Just wait until the pictures come out.

It's a conspiracy I tell you! They are trying to control us. It's much harder to think clearly when haven't had enough sleep. And the extra snoozing just eats up the time when hubby could make espresso. Instead, I have to drink the G.A.A.C. (Generally Accepted As Coffee) at the office. This is why people bring guns to work! I know it's true, here's the biblical reference:

If you shout a pleasant greeting to your neighbor too early in the morning, it will be counted as a curse! Proverbs 27:14

Words to live by, don't you think?

Jack-O-Lantern

Was having a conversation about Jack-O-Lanterns. This was what we did last year. Don't know how I'm going to top that this year.

Judge of Character

*snicker
I always chide myself for reading some gossip story about celebrities. That is, until I find a real gem like this piece. Scroll past the thing about Britney's underwear (or lack thereof), there it is! I could really care less about Owen Wilson being on or off the wagon. This is the part that makes me giggle:

Won’t somebody please listen to Courtney Love?!....“Night in the Museum” co-stars are hanging together once again, despite Courtney’s warnings.

Ha! Ha! Ha! What kind of a person do you have to be for Courtney Love to call you a bad influence? This Steve guy must really be trouble. Hmm, who should one ask about staying clean and sober? Well Courtney's certainly spent the time researching rehab and how not to do it, maybe she really is the expert.

Whiny lazy parents

I read this today and just got annoyed. If you don't want to follow the link, it's a story about parents fears, sex offenders, and trick-or-treating. Here's an excerpt

"Obviously, there's something not right in those people's minds. Anyway, so there's no telling what they would want to give to a child or even what they're thinking about when your child goes up to the front door," said Jasan Hazzard.

I agree, sex offenders are scary. But have you ever thought about, I know it's crazy, but going out with your kids? I know, active parenting. It's a lot to ask. I could be wrong, but I am betting that if you are standing two steps behind your child the scary guy isn't going to yank your precious goblin into his home. And if he tried, you could do something about it

You know, when I was a kid, my dad went with me into the neighborhood. It was great. He carried extra bags in his coat and he would carry the overfilled bags for me. I wasn't allowed to eat any of the candy until after I got home and it had been throughly checked by my parents. We walked through the entire neighborhood so there were plenty of calories burned. Same rules apply with my son. We make an event out of it. Hubby and I get dressed up to take the kiddo out for the annual sugar fest. We have fun and we get to spend time together as a family.

But our family has become the minority. Once we have finished our rounds and returned home, we flip on the porch light and welcome the miniature ninjas, witches, and princesses. Our candy solicitors fall mostly into 2 groups:
1. Chubby kids waddling from mom's still running SUV. These kids might become terribly out of breath if forced to actually walk down a whole street. I almost feel guilty giving them such calorie laden treats. That is until I see the porky chocolate stained fingers of the parental chauffeur. I can only hope their poor overworked heart prevents future procreation. At least rescue crews can properly train with these.
and
2. Kids I have never seen before in the 8 previous Halloweens that I have passed out candy from the same location. A quick glance to the street reveals no parents to be seen. I often wonder how long it would take before they would be missed. I shouldn't, but I always worry about these kids and often watch them heading on down the street until they are out of range. I'm sure I have already invested plenty of my hard earned money in raising them via state programs, is it really so much more to spend an ounce of concern on them?

Attention parents, here's a novel idea. Try parenting. The responsibility is yours, not the state's, not the policeman's, and certainly not your neighbor's. You can look up the addresses of sex offenders in your area, don't send your kid knocking on that door. But that does require you to actually be involved in your kids activities so it's probably asking too much.

Love and Laughter

As my regular readers are aware, it's been a rough time for my family lately. Granddad passed away around 3 o'clock on Thursday October 11th. He will be greatly missed by us all. I've been told by a few people that reading my entries through this whole thing has been comforting to them. I'm so glad. I've drawn a lot of comfort from the support offered to me by so many of you.

Since Thursday, my aunt and uncle opened up their home to all of us. It's served as the base where food is delivered and serves as some insulation from the outside world. As much as I appreciate the concern, there are only so many times I want to answer the question, "How are you doing?" and "Are you okay?" Not to mention, "Is there anything I can do?" I am doing as well as can be expected. Honestly, even though I had been preparing for this, it has still been a lot harder than I thought. There is something you can do, keep us in prayer. If you want to do something in addition to that, the family has asked that donations be made to Odyssey House or the American Cancer Society. By no means do I want anyone to refrain from showing their concern, but it is nice to have a haven from it.

I don't know how it is with other families, but there haven't been a lot of tears when we are all together. We've brought in everyone's photo albums which have been strewn about my aunt's living room and den. She and my mother are scanning select pictures to be made into a slideshow for the memorial service. The rest of us have been sitting around looking through the albums and reminiscing about wonderful stories. There are several pictures that I had never seen and stories that I had never heard. There's lots of laughter and the love is tangible.

In one album were sketches that I had heard about, but never previously seen. I will be getting copies. These are beautiful pencil sketches done by POWs after WWII. Two of Granddad and 2 of the office they built for him. Granddad was over a POW camp in France. Granddad always treated these men as equals. He knew they had been drafted into the war just like he was and never treated them as enemies. The men loved him for it. They built him his own office, made him a clock, and crafted an ashtray out of artillery shells that is in my mother's living room today. The clock was stolen by a GI that was charged with making sure it got home. The POWs shipped the ashtray and that actually made it back. He treated those men with dignity which they returned to him. I don't believe Granddad ever met an enemy, just peers that happened to be on the opposing side.

Yesterday my cousin, who has an inborn gift for children, brought sugar cookie supplies. Her 2 year old son and my 8 year old son made cookies. When it came time for sprinkles, he said to my son, "open your mouth" and proceeded to sprinkle directly into my son's mouth. Everyone cracked up. I'm so proud of my son for doing so well with his younger cousins. Actually I am very proud of the way he has handled all of this. Explaining Granddad's death to him was one of the hardest things to do. As he said his prayers the other night he asked that God show Granddad around in heaven so Granddad could show it to us someday. Kids say it so well sometimes.

Tonight, the church is feeding the family. I am looking forward to some more family time. The memorial service is tomorrow afternoon. It's going to be hard. As will the upcoming holidays. But I am really lucky to have my family and my wonderful spouse with me. I think it is better for us to have each other to lean on.

Funniest line I've read in the news

I read a lot of internet news. Many stories come via The Daily Kitten---thank you Dee. I found this one all on my own though. One line made me seriously laugh out loud. Seriously, read this and tell me all about your mental picture.

About 150 police in riot gear went into the compound to find the ex-nuns defiantly singing religious songs and playing instruments, Puzewicz said.

Good thing the 150 police wore their riot gear! Can you imagine the possible consequences. Being smacked with a tambourine is sure to sting. Kum-by-WHAM my Lord, Kum-by-SMACK......We all know the havoc that would create in the little Polish town.

This line makes me laugh so hard I nearly peed myself. As if the riot gear part wasn't enough, he says they were "defiantly singing religious songs and playing instruments" Oh man, that's rebellious. That may have corrupted to locals that were sneaking them food. Shield your children!

And the scene ended this way.

Hours later, after mild resistance and insults from the ex-nuns and the intervention of psychologists, about 65 defeated ex-nuns, escorted by policewomen, walked out calmly in their black habits — some carrying guitars, others tambourines or small drums — and boarded buses.

I'm so glad this public threat was removed. They had guitars people! Don't you understand the imminent danger? Better send in 2 riot geared cops for each nun and a few extra just to be safe.

Whew, I'm so glad my tax dollars go to pay for public health care for kids that are too good for public schools instead. (Thank you Michelle Malkin) Oops! I slipped something political in there. Just when you thought it was safe. Hey everyone! Chain smoke: it's for the children!

Granddad

I want to give an update, but there really isn't much to give. They were unable to get a blood pressure reading this morning. It will probably be today. I'll go up there tonight.

It's 3:25 pm. I just got the call. He's gone

Beautiful Moment

May the road rise to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
The sun shine warm upon your face
The rains fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of His hand

Old Irish Blessing. I sang it, through tears, to Granddad last night. That's where I stopped singing. He'd spent the day completely unresponsive, but shed a tear when I finished. The nurse said it was a special gift for me. I think she was right. Prior to that, I wanted to believe that he knew I was there, but I just wasn't sure. I'm so glad I could give that gift to him.

I'm kind of just waiting for the call today. The call telling me that he has gone home. I think his spiritual body and his physical body are separating. That's why the only reaction we got from him was the single tear. It was tearful but beautiful.

Someone brought a kitten for her grandmother to see. Cute little tuxedo guy. Nana snuggled him into her sweater where he purred. It was the most she'd smiled in a while.

It might be today

Mom called, it might be today. Of course, it might have been Friday, or a week ago at the hospital. Yesterday, the doctor said he would be surprised if Granddad lasted another 2 days. But of course it's not an exact science. Granddad will go when he is good and ready. I won't ever be ready, but I'm as close to ready as I am going to get. Today, he is not responding. Not to Nana or anyone else. They are just giving him regular infusions of pain meds and playing soft music.

I'm not dropping everything and running over there. I kind of want to, but I've done that so much lately. And there's not really anything I could do. For now, I'm staying at work and have apparently forgotten how to eat a sandwich. I seem to have decided to eat it from both ends and work towards the middle. I took a picture, I'll add it later. Sorry about the tangent, I just looked down at my lunch and realized I've suddenly become retarded. Laugh, it's allowed. Healthy actually.

In my heart, I hope it's today. I really hate to say that, but I've set up a pattern of being brutally honest here and don't really plan to change it. I know that the only way for Granddad to stop suffering is to let the angels take him. He told Nana yesterday that he was going with them. Then the rest of us can really mourn his loss as we haven't been able to do yet. And we can refocus and be able to celebrate his life. Can't really do that right now, no clarity.

I'm going tonight. Even though he probably will not know that I am there. That just means he is closer to home.

UPDATE: You guys are really awesome. Extra cool points for all of you. We are picking up pizza and heading down to hospice shortly. With all of us together, may as well make it a party (of sorts). In case anyone is curious, this is the hospice group we are working with. We've dealt with them 3 times in as many years. You can visit their website at www.odsyhealth.com.

Granddad update

Hospice people are amazing. I sincerely hope and believe there is a special crown these people will receive in heaven. I am blown away by these people. I personally didn't pursue a medical career because I didn't think I had the emotional stamina to handle it if I were to lose a patient. These people lose them all. And they have the added responsibility of dealing with family members. They are there 24/7 for anything and everything that might be needed.
I got to meet a special one on Friday. Her name is Katie Ann and she's a golden retriever. She's a trained therapy dog. She loves everyone and will let everyone love on her. Kids can pull on her ears. People can squeeze her and cry on her and she just loves them back. If I see her again, I may try to get her picture.
We all thought Friday was Granddad's last day with us. We've said our goodbyes and now we are just waiting for the inevitable. I really hope that he can go peacefully and quickly. I trust that if God continues to keep him here, that he has a good reason to do so, but I have to admit that this is hard.
My husband and I did get to have a very nice dinner with my 3 cousins and their spouses. We had never all gone out together before. We laughed at old stories and our twisted humor that it seems we've all inherited. I'm so glad to be rekindling relationships with them.
On Saturday, Granddad's vitals had actually improved. He's still arguing with angels. I hate seeing him suffer this way. I know that he will go home when it is time though and God's time is not my time. It's hard to be at peace with that. It's even harder to see Nana struggle so much. She hasn't left his side. She's an amazing woman. I don't envy her place right now. 57.5 years is a long time to be married. That kind of love is worth the pain.

Gift or Gremlin?

I got a surprise package in the mail on Saturday. It was a tube containing 4 posters. 2 copies of this one,

and 2 copies of a President Bush one. You can order them here. The surprise is that I didn't order them. I thought about it, but didn't. But they came anyway. $4.60 charged to someone else. I figure it has to be one of four scenarios.

1. I have a secret admirer. If so, I assume that you are reading this. I know your name because it showed on the invoice, but I'm not going to reveal it. Thank you for the posters, I'm really flattered. I'm very much not available though. It was very thoughtful of you to send 2 copies because my best friend/husband enjoys them as well.
   
2. I have a fan that sends gifts. Awesome! Really freaking awesome. Thank you, and you rock! I've never had a fan before and unless it is proven otherwise, this is the scenario I'm going to choose to believe and revel in the head swelling. I know your name, so no one else can take credit and therefore possession of the well deserved cool points you have earned.
   
3. It's a gag gift. If so, you think I'm a liberal and the joke's on you. I don't really think that is the case though
4. There is a gremlin lurking in the servers at yaf.org. It is possible that Mr. Cool really just ordered them for himself and the ghost in the machine sent them to me instead. If so, and you just happen across my blog, I still think you are cool and would be happy to order these posters for you on my own bill so that you don't miss out on the conservative goodness. That would still be acceptable, but I would rather believe that I have a fan.
   

So, anyone care to guess what the scoop is here? Are you the giver and want to come forward to receive your cool points? You can remain anonymously cool if you would like. I know your name, but the other people who read this won't find out unless you come forward.

And yes, everyone who takes the time to read my blog is automatically considered cool. But there is a hierarchy. Readers are cool, those that comment are cooler, fellow bloggers that link back are awesome, and anyone that sends gifts is seriously amazing. Especially since any gift received is completely unsolicited. Welcome, but not solicited.

UPDATE: Well the people at YAF got back with me. Apparently their site got hacked. It was a gremlin. And I was really hoping for a fan.

They said what?!?!?!?!----with update

So predictable that I would have to weigh in on this issue. I have to admit that I should be ashamed. I shouldn't let drivel like Desperate Housewives anywhere near my radar and certainly not close enough to form an opinion.

Why am I annoyed? Here is why:

The officials cited a recent episode where actress Teri Hatcher, who plays Susan Mayer, asked whether the person attending to her during a medical consultation "can I check those diplomas because I want to make sure that they're not from some med school in the Philippines."

There are plenty obvious reasons why I should be annoyed. My paternal grandfather is from the Philippines after all. But I find the very existence of this show to be offensive, so why should I care whether or not they are sensitive to every little group. I was born here in the US and feel no special urge to add any label to myself beyond American. I am not part of the larger victim culture and refuse to associate myself in that way. The fact is, I really don't care if they are insensitive. I wouldn't have known about the comment had it not been covered here, here, and here. And that is not including the original reference in this post. I find it offensive that it took a racially charged slur to tick people off.

Desperate Housewives is just a symptom of a greater disease. The disease is serious moral decline. This show glamorizes adultery and pretends this is normal, perfectly acceptable behavior. Fine. The producers are just making what gets ratings. The real problem lies with the society that accepts it, watches it, and embraces it. Not that families even need to watch prime time television (heaven-forbid the almighty media get turned off in a household once in a while), but when you do turn it on you choose this as quality entertainment? This show is just one of many.

I'm not going to ask you to write letters to the producers or the FCC. I won't direct you to some internet petition. I'm not asking you to take any action at all. I have enough faith in the people that read this that they are smart enough to just turn the television off.

UPDATE: Aren't you relieved? They apologized. Right here. But not for the fact that I vomited in my mouth a little when it dawned on me that I had actually written about this so-called sitcom which is actually just porn in shiny packaging. If you want to watch smut, then do it. Just don't try to convince me that it is anything else.

Check Mate!

My kid beat me at chess yesterday. First time ever. He was so excited, and I am so proud of him. He beat me fair and square. I did not let him win. It was a very clean check mate. I'm going to have to work harder to stay competitive with my 8 year old.

He had his first tournament on Saturday, September 29th. He didn't win anything individually, but his team took first and second place. I've mentioned the Chess Club here before. These kids are really amazing. Provided my son can keep up with his schoolwork and behavior in class, his next tournament will be October 20th. He's bound to just keep getting better. And I've already noticed a change in his level of motivation at school.

Feel free to visit IdaFreemanChess.com, shop in the store. It helps the team.

Personal/Family Update

I actually watched the sunrise on Saturday. It came up about 2 hours after I got up. It's been a long time since I've done that. We had to be up at 4:30 so we could get the kiddo up, fed, and at the school by 5:45. Funny how it's hard to go back to bed after 5 shots of espresso. Once he was off to his chess tournament, we headed back home. I parked on the stationary bike that has yet to find a better home than my front porch and used the handlebars as a make shift tripod and took a couple of pictures. I haven't downloaded them from my camera yet. I'll share them when I do.

Lately, it doesn't feel like I've had any just peaceful moments, but Saturday morning was good for me. I was reminded that no matter what else is going on, the sun keeps rising. New days begin. Anyone that has been reading this knows that I am certainly the cynic, but if its possible to be both a cynic and an optimist, then that's me. I'm feeling a little more like myself and hope to be returning to more entertaining fare. Although, I will likely continue to get personal from time to time. I will be making an attempt to get back to my opinions and commentary about random stuff. No promises that there will not be some bleed through.

Here is today's personal update.

Granddad moved to the hospice facility on Saturday. It seems to be a very nice place and the nursing staff is great. They flirt with him, blow him kisses, and one even offered to marry him and take him home. I talked to him after he got settled in. He told me that he knew the doctors were telling him that he wasn't going to win this one, but that didn't mean he was ready to give up the fight. I told him that I would pray for him to be strong.

He's been taking this opportunity to tell the family some old stories. Some I had heard before, some I hadn't. I'll try to put together what I can. He felt his most important thing to say was not a fun one. He told us that killing someone in war is awful. I can't believe he had been carrying that around for the last 60 years. As I told him, I am so proud and so thankful that he did that. And so sorry that he had to experience it. Real men don't go to war because they want to, they do it because it's their duty. He was one of the lucky ones that performed his duty well and came home from WWII. He wanted to say it because there are so many so-called men that like to brag about how many people they killed in the war. Granddad went to war because his country called him to do so and to be a man. I wish there were more men like Granddad.

Lots of family came down to visit on Sunday so I didn't stay long at hospice. He's was in good spirits even though he was very tired.