Nursing Home Saga Continues

2 Samuel 7:22 (NIV) "How great you are, O Sovereign LORD! There is no one like you, and there is no God but you."

The Saga Continues

The first night at the Home didn’t go too bad but morning came and I was aroused by the lights on Ray’s side being swung into motion. Ray had to be up and dressed because she went for dialysis three days a week. It took a lot out of her physically. She’d be gone until noon at which time she’d arrive back at the Home to eat lunch. Some of the time she would eat in the room because apparently, her trip took too much out of her to be social. She was placed in her recliner and left to eat.

By five in the morning I was awake and most of the time I asked if I could be helped onto the commode. “Sure Joni, just give us a minute.” I was trying to memorize the voices that would be helping me, this day it was Laura. The minute usually took more than twenty to come back for me. I was hungry and wouldn’t eat until nine. A small cup of water sat on my table and I’d take small sips. If I asked for them to refill the cup I brought from the hospital, it would take every bit of thirty-five minutes for it to be returned like it did the day before on my arrival. I was hesitant. And no, I was not on any restrictions of food and water.

I wanted to turn my television on a couple of times but wouldn’t you know it, the previous aid sat the ‘gait belt’ on the stand right in front of the television beam needed for the remote to connect and it would not turn on. I would just sit there, looking around, alone in my thoughts. The curtains were still drawn in the mornings and I awaited the sunrise. My meds would arrive about eight o’clock to eight-thirty and I asked the nurse that day, Bird lady, if she could kindly help me to the commode, the other nurse at six o’clock had not returned. “Well let me get you your meds first.” This nurse was one of the sweet attentive nurses and also in charge of the other nurses, the Charge Nurse. With gloves on, she handed me all of my pills in one cup. My chemo pills were supposed to be taken at different times, like before I ate (which one of them was on time) but the other was supposed to be thirty-minutes AFTER I ate. I was still hungry, no food tray in sight, except the empty one from dinner the night before, and still waiting to urinate. She offered me three packs of crackers to hold me off and often offered me an Ensure drink. 

I wasn’t getting a good feel of the place even after one full day in the confines of the home. At around 9:45 I was scheduled for my radiation; that meant I had to get dressed. The physical therapists came in before eight (way before breakfast) to see what I could physically do. The one PT was very robotic. I would try to make her laugh and she would just deadpan stare at me as if to say, ‘really? I’m trying to work here!’ While the occupational therapist, Kay, was perky and friendly and loved to laugh with me. Our laughter I know could be heard echoing down the hall. When I cried, she listened, she’d hand me the box of kleenex, and it was very comforting having someone in my room to communicate with.

I couldn’t do much like get dressed, heck I hadn’t showered in twelve days and have only been sponge bathed a couple of times at the hospital. My hair was a mangled mess, and what make-up was still left on my eyes ran down my face and I was hesitant to even look in the mirror. I would go to the radiation treatment in my t-shirt and flannel, nothing else but a blanket to cover me because the days were starting to get chilly.

I could only pivot so far on my right foot with the aid of the gait belt so I didn’t fall. The cold radiation slab wanted to break my back but the nurses were very accommodating and brought pillows, a cushion with a sheet, and warmed sheets to cover me. They didn’t treat me like a toxic zombie. They treated me like a patient. They were impressed with my progress since the first round of radiation, where I was brought in on a gurney. They said I was nothing short of a miracle when I appeared in the wheelchair, stood and pivoted. They had seen the x-rays of my break and were surprised I was at the pivoting stage already. My determination to go home kept me pushing forward but never overdoing the exercises I needed to set me free.

After the session was over my husband and I usually rolled down and sat at the window with the beautiful fountain surrounded by a lush garden and benches. There were pumpkins decorating the garden for either fall or Halloween. I lost track of time. We would then wait for the bus driver to return to take us back to the home.

The weather was damp, dreary and chilly most days, at the hospital, I was wheeled by gurney to the CC. At the Home, the community Ryde (bus) bus driver would come to my room and pick me up, unless a nurse rolled me to the sitting room. I was then taken to the Cancer Center. The driver would then come back and pick me up to take me back to the home. Any time I was not alone was a cherished moment for me. Anxiety had built for the Nursing Home very quickly. I would kid with the bus driver and ask him if he wanted to break me out of this place. He’d laugh as we slowly approached the Home. He would take me back to my room if my husband wasn’t there, otherwise hubby would wheel me back to the cubbyhole of a corner in room twelve. Let me state now, the other rooms were EVENLY divided between tenants. With doors open, I could clearly see in each room I passed as envy filled my empty gut.

As I said, to lighten my time in the places I deemed a hellhole, only because it wasn’t home, I used laughter to muddle through. One time being transported on a gurney to the CC I was wheeled to the first floor, past a gift shop, past a Subway (what torture!) and then past a waiting room then out the door into the swift breeze and the only-for-me sunshine. The CC was right next door to the hospital, too close for ambulatory service. I told the guys wheeling me, as I was covered in a white sheet, looking like a dead body being transported, that I would put the sheet over my head, then when I get to the waiting room, I’d jump up, screaming. The one technician laughed so hard he almost stumbled, the other one just shook his head. These guys, as well as anyone who came in contact with me, were getting to know me and my infectious sense of humor. Laughter and optimism kept me ALIVE!

The days were passing by as slow as extra thick maple syrup could be poured from a bottle. Granted the days were full from five a.m until we turned our lights out at 8:30 as we slept until something in the night called us to awaken.

Pss. 130:5  “I wait for the LORD, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope.”

The Tests - Be Strong

2 Corinthians 1:3-4  “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

The Tests

As the nurse wheeled me over to the other side of the hospital to await the trials of the day, tears flowed as people passed. Tissues placed throughout the hospital were grabbed along the way. Faces flew by in a collage then a whirling kaleidoscope fashion. 

I had papers to fill out, my husband handled questions to be answered mostly because words got caught up in my throat and wouldn’t come out. The nice lady took one look at me with tears rimming her eyes before sending me on my way with the comforting words, “I’ve been right where you are today, be strong,” These words were going to be the most frequent words heard for the next year to come. 

Mammogram first – I have to say I think I landed in an Angelic domain of hospital workers because every single person who cared for me had a glowing beauty about them. The first one being, Shantay (I think that’s spelled right) I won’t put too many names out here but that was the most beautiful name and the bubbly blonde connected to that name filled me with laughter on one of my darkest days. 

You would have never known that I was just told I have cancer or that I was about to experience a squishing-squashing ceremony of the boob. I told her, “If I can’t laugh, I’ve got nothing to hold onto.” She agreed and we continued with our out of the ordinary sense of humor. 

For example, the door she wheeled me through had big taped up cracks and I told her, “You did that didn’t you? You just wheeled someone into the glass and cracked it!” She replied, “I’m a dangerous driver.” Chuckle. 

I was handed a smock? Dressing to cover ‘my girls’ but as she noted I would be needing to change again and again and that I should just leave it on. As we were wheeling to the next session of ‘boob academy’, she noted, “Are your girls in?” 
“Well no, I just wanna flash everyone I pass! After this experience, I think I’ve earned that right.” More giggles and laughter. My tears were drying, my nose tender from all the rubbing; my head was pounding from no food, no water and the whirling of the room and tests. She had to part but didn’t leave without the comforting words ‘stay strong’ tear-rimmed eyes, and a gentle touch of the hand, “I wish I could go with you.” Bonding words if I ever heard. 

Onto the c-t scan – The nurse who came to wheel me into the c-t room was another angelic beauty. With piercing blue eyes and wavy black hair, she introduced herself and handed me off to ‘the table’ where a Mr. Clean looking man stood awaiting me to get on the bed. Haha, not a funny thought there, is it?

The Zooey Deschanel look-alike saw that I was already dressed for the occasion (the left-over smock from the squishy room), and asked if my ‘girls’ were in and well… in Joni fashion, I said, “No, I’m in a flashing mood today.” Mr. Clean chuckled and said, “Well I need to take pictures.” He thought about what he said and said “No, not like that, hahaha” He went on to poke me with an IV which would be used for a fluid to run through my veins and, his words, ‘make me feel like I wet myself’. As if I didn’t feel that way already before we met. 

I was sent through a Stargate portal and as I looked at a blinking light, right beneath it said, ‘Do Not Stare at the blinking light.’ Too late, I’m in a fog, I’m flashing people and I don’t even care at this point. “Be strong,” Mr. Clean said as I finished up with the portal and I was slowly taken away and wheeled over to the next leg of the journey, the pre-op!

The doctor who would perform ‘the surgery’ they called it (it was really just a 16 gage needle being stuck into my ‘girl’), looked a little like Kevin James. He was a jovial dark-haired man with soft hands and very capable of the duty set before him. He comforted my husband and I and we were told how routine this procedure has become. 

I had never experienced such a wonderful group of teammates. Sure being in this profession you need a spot on personality and caring compassionate ways but they handled me as if I was the Queen of England and treated me with kid gloves in every aspect of this journey. My longest waiting time was in the pre-op stage because as you can imagine, this process is apparently routine and the doc was working on someone else as I waited. 

His soft voice talked me through every step and while I was laying in an uncomfortable position (due to my arthritic pain) I lay still as David Crowder music played in the background gently lulling me to a safe comfort zone as my breast was being poked. BillyBob (male anesthesiologist) had asked what kind of music I like and no hesitation went into proclaiming my Christianity. David Crowder and Kari Jobi I said, and the young lady at the sonogram machine smiled, BillyBob said it was a nice upbeat sound.

BillyBob had asked if a young lady could come in and observe the process since she is in training. I said, “Sure, the more the merrier!” My sense of humor was kicking into overdrive. This is when we waited for ‘the surgeon’.

As I lay a foot from the sonogram screen with my left arm over my head, I gazed at the huge lump with sadness. I just stared and then said something… “Is this like the sonogram they give to look at babies?” The doctor in all seriousness said, “Yes, that’s exactly it!” I said in a deadpan rye way, “Is that my baby?” I could see his face turn blistering red as to hold back an outburst of laughter. “Is it a boy or a girl?” I asked. He calmly offered, “We should know by Tuesday.”

He went on to clean me up, gave me the pat on the back and I finally hear, “Good job! You did great! I have some really good samples here and now onto the hardest part, the wait.” 

All of their faces screamed ‘poor girl’ but I wouldn’t allow the down faces to carry me or them through the rest of the day, I went on to say, “I’m hungry! I haven’t eaten all day, no water and I’ve been up since 3 a.m.”
The doctor said, “You deserve to go and eat something.”

I giggled, “Chili from Wendy’s?”

He offered, “You earned two!”

“Tell my husband?” a little chuckle came out and a tear passed my cheek.

The observing girl offered, “You should get a Frostee, too!” I laughed. “Yeah, you both need to tell my husband that!

They both wheeled me back to the pre-op station/cubby hole and announced that I did really well to my husband. “And?” I said. “And she earned two chili’s from Wendy’s.” And the observer piped in “And a Frostee.” Hubby laughed and shook his head. This has to be hard on him too, I thought.

Thirty minutes later after a jello, water, IV removal, and BP checked as well as my temperature, (and a long awaited pee!) Then we were sent on our way into the blustery cold and blowing snow filled day. Wendy’s (drive-thru), home, then reality to deal with all that happened on this much eventful, test and tear filled day. In that order. 

Middle of Nowhere

Pss. 147:4  “He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names.”

Middle of Nowhere

It hit me and it hit me hard when I realized I’m out in the middle of nowhere, especially when the urgency to get back home became some kind of fantasy trip never to be had. I suddenly felt alone, alone and wandering like the couple in the Children of the Corn movie, where every road that they turned down basically led to nowhere.

I remember being back in Dallas when the panic call came that my mother had a stroke, my dad wanted me home and he’d pay for everything just to see me back there consoling my mother. In less than 24 hours we boarded a plane and landed at BWI airport. It took us 20 minutes to get to the airport where we’d board a three-hour flight bound for the east coast. Easy peasy!

When the call came in that my father had passed, I wrestled with what had to be done. I thought another easy flight plan was in store for my near future but no, it just wasn’t meant to be. The cheapest airline tickets ranged from $337 – $557 round trip. That is not including hotel and car rental and of course the food we’d need to eat. We’re talking close to $2000 - $3000 trip for the three of us to get back to my hometown. That doesn’t include the gas that we’d need to make a three-four hour trip to Omaha to catch the plane.

It’s not like people have money just lying around waiting to help a poor soul, they have lives and needs themselves. My dilemma is my dilemma and as it would be, it just isn’t meant for me to go back and see my family during one of the hardest times in their lives.

When my brother looked at the google earth map he realized something and exclaimed, “You live out in the middle of nowhere! Literally!” Tell me something I DON’T know! I look at the map and it looks like a simple straight line from Nebraska to Baltimore but there is more than meets the eyes there!

We have an airport 3-4 hours away. We don’t have bus stations or trains that could just whisk me away on a trip to Baltimore as easy as it was when we lived in Dallas. We literally live out in the middle of nowhere! We don’t even have a place to call to deliver food out here, that’s how far away we are from the main town.

My only connection at this time is facebook via computer and my phone. I don’t have one of those ‘Smart  Phones’ that everybody uses to surf the worldwide web; I don’t have the luxury of ‘facetime’, whatever that is, and no one back home has a way to allow me to SEE the family I long to be with at this time.

I have to sit here out in the middle of nowhere and grieve in my own way. It’s hard but I’m muddling through, writing every day whether it’s something to post or not to post. I clean, I rake, I do whatever my back will allow. I know my limits.

I call my mother just to hear her voice in the morning and at night to make sure she takes her medicine. That is what my dad did and she tells me that sometimes if I hadn’t called, she would have surely forgotten to take her meds. She sounded really good last night as opposed to the other tearful three weeks; she laughed and I know I heard her smile right through the phone. She sounded as if one-thousand pounds of stress had been lifted off her shoulders. Yes she’s grieving but she is also accepting that this is what was meant to be.

I walked out the back door and looked up at the billions of stars in the sky out in the middle of nowhere and said to my father, “Dad, she’s going to be all right.”

Just at that moment a shooting star danced across the sky. I whispered, “You show off.”

1 Cor. 15:41 “There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars: for one star differeth from another star in glory.”

Weary Among Men

Job 39: 12 Wilt thou believe him, that he will bring home thy seed, and gather it into thy barn?

Weary Among Men

My heart is growing weary

My eyes are drawing dim.

I cannot find the laughter

In man who’s wrought with sin.

My legs are turning wobbly

My arms they hurt to raise.

I cannot find the joy

In man who gives false praise.

My mind is set to wander

Away from a faulty place.

I cannot find the happiness

In man who wears false face.

My body’s nearly broken

I’m aching all inside.

I cannot live in sanctity

While man is full of pride.

Dear Lord come and take me home

Where I might find some peace.

I cannot stay where I don’t belong

I cry out for sweet release!

Prov. 7: 19 For the goodman is not at home, he is gone a long journey:

Funny Friday

Eagles may soar in the clouds, but weasels never get sucked into jet engines. 

~Attributed to both Jason Hutchison and John Benfield
***

I always carry a serious aspect of my writing with me throughout my day. I like to be professional while others scamper about acting, well, zany?  I like to laugh just like the rest of you, but there comes a point in your writing career where you just NEED to laugh and see the humor in the mundane trivial aspects of living this life. Not a go-circus-like crazy, just a good chuckle every now and then. Lets see if I can make you smile:

There was once a young man who, in his youth, professed his desire to become a great writer.
When asked to define great, he said, "I want to write stuff that the whole world will read, stuff that people will react to on a truly emotional level, stuff that will make them scream, cry, howl in pain and anger!"
 

He now works for Microsoft writing error messages.
***
Typical writer? :
 

A screenwriter comes home to a burned down house. His sobbing and slightly-singed wife is standing outside. “What happened, honey?” the man asks.

“Oh, John, it was terrible,” she weeps. “I was cooking, the phone rang. It was your agent. Because I was on the phone, I didn’t notice the stove was on fire. It went up in second. Everything is gone. I nearly didn’t make it out of the house. Poor Fluffy is--”

“Wait, wait. Back up a minute,” The man says. “My agent called?”
***
 

Baahaahaahaa:
 

A male romance novelist was hiking in the mountains, and he came upon a shepherd who was tending a large herd of sheep that were grazing in the alpine meadow. The writer took a fancy to the sheep, and asked the shepherd: "If I can guess how many sheep you have, can I have one?"
 

The shepherd thought this was an odd request, but thought that there was little chance that the man would guess the exact number of sheep, so he said, "Sure." The writer guessed, "You have 287 sheep," to the shepherd's astonishment, since this was exactly how many sheep he had. The writer got excited and asked "Can I pick out my sheep now?" and the shepherd grudgingly gave his permission.
 

The writer selected his sheep, bent over, and swung the sheep over his shoulders, to carry home with him.
 

The shepherd then asked, "If I guess what your occupation is, can I have my sheep back?"
 

The novelist was a bit surprised by this, but figured that it was unlikely that the shepherd would be able to guess his occupation, and went along with the deal.
 

The shepherd then guessed "You're a romance novelist, aren't you?"
The writer was very surprised and asked, "How did you know?"
 

The shepherd responded, "Put the dog down and we'll talk about it."
***
Lightbulb moment?
 

Q. How many mystery writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A. Two. One to screw it almost all the way in, and the other to give it a surprising twist at the end.
***
 

Ahhh...
Did you hear the one about the pregnant woman who went into labor and began to yell, "Couldn't! Wouldn't! Shouldn't! Didn't! Can't!"? She was having contractions.
***

So there you have it, you came, you read and hopefully you smiled. Go out and embrace the beauty of this world.
 

 “Don’t get stuck behind a window looking out, you’ll miss the rainbow.” ~Joni Zipp
 

Maybe this world is another planet's hell. ~Aldous Huxley

Wonderful Wednesday

I have some exciting news! I just have to share. Besides how much I love my son who is now  5’10” at fifteen and I wish he’d slow down on the growth spurt. lol

A package came for ME last week. No, not a Valentines present per se but a small little package from my niece. Hmm what could it be? Well I knew what it could be, because unlike so many other people in my life that say they’re going to do something, my niece pretty much comes through when she says she’s going to do something.

A few weeks ago, she asked if I had a web cam. “A web cam? No,” I said.  I never really wanted one and honestly didn’t know what I’d use one for. Well she said she wanted to send me one, we worked out if this ancient computer could handle it, and then she said it would be on its way, by the end of February!

What did she want me to have a web cam for? So I could see her and her mom, (my sis) and my mother and father too!!! Well slap my forehead and give me a V8! Why hadn’t I thought of that? Why didn’t she, before the time got to be six years without seeing their faces!!!

Well this brown  little box held a web cam that came on Friday. I opened it and as with all technological gadgets I just looked at it with no fascination. My son however was ecstatic! He wanted one for Christmas but well, with no money and I thought they were really expensive, I told him we couldn’t get one. Maybe after we get a new computer.

Saturday arrived and Adam wanted it installed like NOW, so he could show his internet friends. (I monitor his activities on the web, so no worries.) We hooked it up, saw some fuzz but it still sent the images across cyberspace and he was seen. Okay, whoopie!

I sent my niece a message thanking her and now the excitement was building. I realized that she was just turning sixteen years old when I left home 8 years ago, and that I had only seen her briefly on my visit back to Baltimore (but she was one of the first people that came to see me at the hotel when I arrived!) Oh the excitement!

It may not be exciting to people outside my family, who really don’t understand the grand scheme of things but to me, to me this is the opportunity of a lifetime! To see their faces to laugh with them and smile, cry and share. This was a moment of going home again without the airfare fees and all the hoopla that surrounds traveling.

Sunday came and as Adam tweaked with the settings, now making the picture crystal clear, I arrived home from Church anxiously awaiting the arrival. A few notes back to one another and then *POOF* they were in front of my face, smiling from behind tears, laughing with streams and trickles running down their cheeks. My eyes have not flooded so much in a long time.

Sure my Valentine serenade from My Sax Man was beautiful, but nothing, and I mean nothing could overpower the love of MY family reunion with my sister and niece! This Saturday is...the *Surprise for mother and dad!*

Finally...my family.

The Legend of St. Nicholas~ a poem

The Legend of Saint Nicholas

***

There he sat in a great big chair,
velvet red suit, snow-like hair.
Full of laughter, joy, and cheer;
once again that time of year.

"Mommy, mommy, who is he?"
are words I longed to hear.
But what do you say to innocence,
to make the story clear?

Do I grant him imagination,
his mind set to explore?
Or thrust him into reality,
allowing his soul to soar?

I tell the story of Jesus,
His gracious, humble birth;
about how wise men brought Him gifts,
because He blessed this earth.

St. Nicholas too, was a humble man,
who loved all girls and boys.
He gave them joy and laughter,
by blessing them with toys.

His giving to children once a year,
to feel enormous pleasure;
throughout all time, each child will hold,
a day they'll always treasure.

Chosen was the day of our Lord,
I'm sure He wouldn't mind;
sharing His appointed birthday,
with a man so warm and kind.

Jesus had inspired a man,
to lovingly care and give;
and through the spirit of both these men,
their memories will live.

So once a year, St. Nicholas' spirit,
dwells in the hearts of men.
Bringing imagination to life,
in any way he can.

Poetry Sunday~ The Aftermath

James 1:4 But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.
***
Aftermath
***
Embers of hate
mark this date
for all the world to see.

I can not relate
will not be bait.
for my will to be set  free.

Long live compassion
I drown out the crashin’
the light of laughter abounds.

Hold onto my passion
in arrogant fashion
the wonderful world of sounds

The first yellowing leaves
are shaking in trees.
the season enters its sleep.

The nation now grieves
for all it perceives.
the hope it can not keep.

Rise above fear
love will shine clear
in humans once again.

Don’t shed a tear;
hold your faith near.
pray for the sin of men.

Poetry Sunday~

For my Dad and Adams birthday
the beacons of light in my life!
Adam 12-27 Dad 12-30
Happy Birthday!


The Lighthouse of Life

Joni Zipp

There comes a time in life
that changes do occur.
One foot in front of the other
We tread as life's a blur.

We turn to strength and guided hands
to show us where to roam.
We look to our father for his armor
Our haven; a stable home.

He stands in the shadow of silence
Giving advice when we seek.
He lends to us a pillar.
A beacon when we are weak.

On the shore of rocky oceans
His kids are out at sea.
The lighthouse of my youthful years
Was all he gave to me.

He gave me courage to stand afoot,
To be strong when seas were rough.
To ride the ebb and flow of life,
Always remaining tough.

At times when tears begin to flow,
To him I would never bother.
I'll stand ashore and see the gleam,
Of the eyes of my loving father.

Quotation Saturday

Isaiah 17:11 In the day shalt thou make thy plant to grow, and in the morning shalt thou make thy seed to flourish: but the harvest shall be a heap in the day of grief and of desperate sorrow.
***

The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.
~Anna Quindlen (1953 - )

Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them - every day begin the task anew.
~Saint Francis de Sales (1567 - 1622)

The conception of two people living together for twenty-five years without having a cross word suggests a lack of spirit only to be admired in sheep.
~Alan Patrick Herbert

A great marriage is not when the 'perfect couple' comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences.
~Dave Meurer, "Daze of Our Wives"

Intimacy is what makes a marriage, not a ceremony, not a piece of paper from the state.
~Kathleen Norris

Laughter gives us distance. It allows us to step back from an event, deal with it and then move on.
~Bob Newhart (1929 - )

I was irrevocably betrothed to laughter, the sound of which has always seemed to me to be the most civilized music in the world.
~Peter Ustinov (1921 - 2004)

Now on to my Christmas joke of the week:

A family had twin boys whose only resemblance to each other was their looks. If one felt it was too hot, the other thought it was too cold. If one said the TV was too loud, the other claimed the volume needed to be turned up. Opposite in every way, one was an eternal optimist, the other a doom and gloom pessimist.

Just to see what would happen, on the twins' birthday their father loaded the pessimist's room with every imaginable toy and game. The optimist's room he loaded with horse manure.

That night the father passed by the pessimist's room and found him sitting amid his new gifts crying bitterly.

"Why are you crying?" the father asked.

"Because my friends will be jealous, I'll have to read all these instructions before I can do anything with this stuff, I'll constantly need batteries, and my toys will eventually get broken." answered the pessimist twin.

Passing the optimist twin's room, the father found him dancing for joy in the pile of manure. "What are you so happy about?" he asked.

To which his optimist twin replied, "There's got to be a pony in here somewhere!"

Quotation Saturday

***

I can't think of anything to write about except families. They are a metaphor for every other part of society.
~Anna Quindlen (1953 - )

Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.
~Jane Howard, "Families"

No matter where you live, brothers are brothers and sisters are sisters. The bonds that keep family close are the same no matter where you are.
~Takayuki Ikkaku, Arisa Hosaka and Toshihiro Kawabata, Animal Crossing: Wild World, 2005

Family isn't about whose blood you have. It's about who you care about.
~Trey Parker and Matt Stone, South Park

The ideals which have lighted my way, and time after time have given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Kindness, Beauty, and Truth. The trite subjects of human efforts, possessions, outward success, luxury have always seemed to me contemptible.
~Albert Einstein (1879 - 1955)

I expect to pass through this world but once; any good thing therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.
~Ettiene De Grellet

Live neither in the past nor in the future, but let each day's work absorb your entire energies, and satisfy your widest ambition.
~Sir William Osler (1849 - 1919), to his students

That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
~William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850)

Look not mournfully into the past. It comes not back again. Wisely improve the present. It is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future, without fear.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882)

Author’s comment:
As I passed through the shadows of the week frozen in pictures and memory are that of a great family get together. My family is back home in Maryland, but I have been welcomed and loved by this family, Steven’s family. They embrace my quirkiness, delight in my smile, and care for me in depths unimaginable. I have to admit, they are forever entrenched in my life. They give my life new meaning and it is through them I retain strength to go on.

Freaky Friday

Funny Friday plows forward to tickle your funnybone!

A shy guy goes into a bar and sees a beautiful woman sitting at the bar. After an hour of gathering up his courage, he finally goes over to her and asks tentatively. "Would you mind if I chatted with you for a while?"
To which she responds by yelling, at the top of her lungs, "No, I won't sleep with you tonight!"
Everyone in the bar is now staring at them. Naturally, the guy is hopelessly and completely embarrassed and he slinks back to his table. After a few minutes, the woman walks over to him and apologizes. She smiles at him and says, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. You see, I'm a journalist and I've got an assignment to study how people respond to embarrassing situations."
To which he responds, at the top of his lungs, "What do you mean $200?"

Three men: an editor, a photographer, and a journalist are covering a political convention in Miami. They decide to walk up and down the beach during their lunch hour. Halfway up the beach, they stumbled upon a lamp. As they rub the lamp a genie appears and says "Normally I would grant you three wishes, but since there are three of you, I will grant you each one wish."
The photographer went first. "I would like to spend the rest of my life living in a huge house in St. Thomas with no money worries." The genie granted him his wish and sent him on off to St. Thomas.
The journalist went next. "I would like to spend the rest of my life living on a huge yacht cruising the Mediterranean with no money worries." The genie granted him his wish and sent him off to the Mediterranean.
Last, but not least, it was the editor's turn. "And what would your wish be?" asked the genie.
"I want them both back after lunch" replied the editor, "the deadline for tomorrow's newspaper is in about ten hours.

Excellent Writing Advice

In promulgating your esoteric cogitations or articulating your superficial sentimentalities and amicable philosophical or psychological observations, beware of platitudinous ponderosity.
Let your conversational communications possess a compacted conciseness, a clarified comprehensibility, a coalescent cogency and a concatenated consistency.
Eschew obfuscation and all conglomeration of flatulent garrulity, jejune babblement and asinine affectations.
Let your extemporaneous descants and unpremeditated expatiations have intelligibility and voracious vivacity without rodomontade or thrasonical bombast.
Sedulously avoid all polysyllabic profundity, pompous prolificacy and vain vapid verbosity.

If you are really interested to know, the above means: "Be brief and don't use big words."

A linguistics professor was lecturing to his English class one day. "In English," he said, "a double negative forms a positive. In some languages, though, such as Russian, a double negative is still a negative. However, there is no language wherein a double positive can form a negative."

A voice from the back of the room piped up, "Yeah, right."

Enjoy your day and smile at someone...they'll wonder what you're thinking.

Freaky Funny Friday

With Freaky Funny Friday I try to bring a smile to the board. Everyone needs a smile in their life otherwise life might look too serious. Keep smiling and enjoy your day! TGIF~ joni

A writer died and was given the option of going to heaven or hell.
She decided to check out each place first. As the writer descended into the fiery pits, she saw row upon row of writers chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they were repeatedly whipped with thorny lashes.
"Oh my," said the writer. "Let me see heaven now."
A few moments later, as she ascended into heaven, she saw rows of writers, chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they, too, were whipped with thorny lashes.
"Wait a minute," said the writer. "This is just as bad as hell!"
"Oh no, it's not," replied an unseen voice. "Here, your work gets published."

There was once a young man who, in his youth, professed his desire to become a great writer.
When asked to define great, he said, "I want to write stuff that the whole world will read, stuff that people will react to on a truly emotional level, stuff that will make them scream, cry, howl in pain and anger!"
He now works for Microsoft writing error messages.

How many mystery writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Two. One to screw it almost all the way in, and the other to give it a surprising twist at the end.


Ode to the Spell Check ~~author unknown

Eye halve a spelling chequer

It cam with my pea sea

It plainly marques four my revue

Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.

Eye strike a key and type a word

And weight four it two say

Weather eye am wrong oar write

It shows me strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid

It nose bee fore two long

And eye can put the error rite

Its rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it

I am shore your pleased two no

Its letter perfect awl the weigh

My chequer tolled me sew!