Saturday, December 31, 2011

Timmy writes a Christmas Letter

Dear Santa,

How are you? How is Mrs. Claus?
I hope everyone, from the reindeer to the elves, is fine.
I have been a very good boy this year.
I would like an X-Box 360 with Call of Duty IV and an iPhone 4 for Christmas.
I hope you remember that come Christmas Day.

Merry Christmas,

Timmy Jones

********************* Dear Timmy,

Thank you for you letter.
Mrs. Claus, the reindeer and the elves are all fine and thank you for asking about them.
Santa is a little worried all the time you spend playing video games and texting.
Santa wouldn't want you to get fat.
Since you have indeed been a good boy, I think I'll bring you something you can go outside and play with.

Merry Christmas,

Santa Claus

*********************** Mr. Claus,

Seeing that I have fulfilled the "naughty vs. nice" contract, set by you I might add, I feel confident that you can see your way clear to granting me what I have asked for.
I certainly wouldn't want to turn this joyous season into one of litigation.
Also, don't you think that a jibe at my weight coming from an overweight man who goes out once a year is a bit trite?

Respectfully,

Tim Jones

********************* Mr. Jones,

While I have acknowledged you have met the "nice" criteria, need I remind you that your Christmas list is a request and in no way is it a guarantee of services provided.
Should you wish to pursue legal action, well that is your right.
Please know, however, that my attorney's have been on retainer ever since the Burgermeister Meisterburger incident and will be more than happy to take you on in open court.
Additionally, the exercise I alluded to will not only improve your health, but also improve you social skills and potentially help clear up a complexion that looks like the bottom of the Burger King fry bin most days.

Very Truly Yours,

S Claus

*********************** Now look here Fat Man,

I told you what I want and I expect you to bring it.
I was attempting to be polite about this but you brought my looks and my friends into this.
Now you just be disrespecting me.
I'm about to tweet my boys and we're gonna be waiting for your fat ass and I'm taking my game console, my game, my phone, and whatever else I want.
WHAT EVER I WANT, MAN!

T-Bone

***************** Listen Pizza Face,

Seriously???
You think a dude that breaks into every house in the world on one night and never gets caught sweats a skinny gang banger wannabe?
"He sees you when you're sleeping; He knows when you're awake".
Sound familiar, genius?
You know what kind of resources I have at my disposal.
I got your shit wired, Jack.
I go all around the world and see ways to hurt people that if I described them right now, you'd throw up your Totino's pizza roll all over the carpet of your mom's basement.
You're not getting what you asked for, but I'm still stopping by your crib to stomp a mud hole in you're ass and then walk it dry.
Chew on that, Petunia.

S Clizzy

*********************** Dear Santa,

Bring me whatever you see fit. I'll appreciate anything.

Timmy

************** Timmy,

That's what I thought you little bastard.

Santa

Thursday, December 29, 2011

Magic Green Hat

The other day I needed to go to the emergency room.
Not wanting to sit there for 4 hours, I put on my MAGIC GREEN HAT.
When I went into the E.R., I noticed that 3/4 of the people got up and left.

I guess they decided that they weren't that sick after all.
Cut at least 3 hours off my waiting time.

It also works at DMV.
It saved me 5 hours.

At the Laundromat, three minutes after entering, I had my choice of any machine, most still running.

If you live in Texas, it might cut your wait time at the grocery store.

But...don't try it at McDonald's.
The whole crew took off and left out the back door and I never got my order!

Friday, December 23, 2011

Brown Bag Christmas

When I asked our newlywed Sunday School class to share a favorite Christmas story, Carrie Fuller said, "Our family has one we call the 'brown bag Christmas.'"
When she finished, I had to hear more.
Two days later, I called a member of her family for more details.

It was the early 1930s during the Dust Bowl days of Kansas, in the heart of the Depression.
The Canaday family---Mom, Dad, 7 children---were having a tough time existing, so there would be no luxuries at Christmas that year.
Mom told the children to go outside and find a Christmas tree and decorate it.
After a lengthy search, they returned with a dead branch, the only thing they had been able to find.
They stood it up in a bucket of sand and decorated it with pieces of paper tied with string.
Little Judy, almost four, did not know how a Christmas tree was supposed to look, but somehow she knew it was not like that!

As Christmas approached, the Canaday children, like children everywhere, pestered Mom and Dad about what presents they might get under their "tree."
Dad pointed out that the pantry was bare, that they did not have enough to live on, and there certainly would be no money for gifts.
But Mom was a woman of faith and told her children, "Say your prayers. Ask God to send us what He wants us to have."
Dad said, "Now, Mother, don't be getting the children's hopes up. You're just setting them up for a disappointment."
Mom said, "Pray, children. Tell Jesus."
And pray they did.
On Christmas Eve, the children watched out the window for visitors, but no one came.
"Blow out the lamp and go to bed", Dad said. "Nobody is going to come. No one even knows we're out here."

The children turned out the lamp and got in bed, but they were too excited to sleep.
Was this not Christmas?
Had they not asked God to send them the presents He wanted them to have?
Did Mom not say God answers prayer?

Late that night, when one of the children spotted headlights coming down the dirt road, everyone jumped out of bed and ran to the window.
The commotion woke up Mom and Dad.
"Don't get excited, children," Dad said. "They're probably not coming here. It's just someone who got lost."
The children kept hoping and the car kept coming.
Then, Dad lit a lamp.
They all wanted to rush to the door at the same time, but Mr. Canaday said, "Stay back. I'll go."
Someone got out of the car and called, "I was wondering if someone here can help me unload these bags."
The children dashed out the door to lend a hand.
Mom said to her youngest, "Stay here, Judy, and help Mom open the bags and put up the gifts."

A deacon from the church in town had gone to bed that Christmas Eve, and lay there tossing and turning, unable to get the Canaday family off his mind.
Later, he said, "I didn't know what kind of shape you folks were in, but I knew you had all those kids."
He had gotten up and dressed and went around town, rousing people from their sleep to ask for a contribution for the Canaday family.
He filled his car with bags of groceries, canned goods, toys, and clothing.
Little Judy got a rag doll which remained her favorite for years.

With so much food, Dad wanted to have a Christmas feast, to spread it all out and eat as they had never eaten before.
Mom, ever the caretaker, said, "No, we need to make this last." And it did last, for weeks.

The next Sunday, Mrs. Canaday stood in church and told what the members---and one deacon in particular---had done for her family.
There was not a dry eye in the house.

Years later, the oldest sister Eva wrote up this story about her family for a school project.
Eva said, "We were so thrilled by all the wonderful things in the bags, for a while ;we lost sight of the most special gift.
The best gift that Christmas was not in brown bags at all.
It was Mom's faith, as she taught her children to bring their needs to Jesus and trust Him to meet them.
And a Dad's love that wanted only to protect his children from hurt and disappointment."

When Carrie finished telling her story, she added, "Little Judy is my wonderful grandmother."
Today, Judy Canaday Dryden lives in Sanger, Texas.
As she relived this event from seventy years ago over the phone, one could hear the tear in her voice and feel her pride in being the recipient of such a precious heritage from her mother and father.

At Christmas, we celebrate praying mothers and caring fathers and believing children.
We give thanks for sensitive deacons and generous friends and sleepless nights.
And we praise God for the hard times that teach unforgettable lessons, stories of faithfulness that get told and retold through the years inspiring each new generation to place their faith in a loving Savior.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

WWII History: The Day Japan Bombed Oregon

The only plane ever to drop a bomb on the United States 
during WWII was this  submarine based Glen.

By: Norm Goyer

September 9, 1942, the I-25 class Japanese submarine was cruising in an easterly direction raising its periscope occasionally as it neared the United States Coastline. 
Japan had attackedPearl Harbor less than a year ago and the Captain of the attack submarine knew that Americans were watching their coast line for ships and aircraft that might attack our country. 
Dawn was approaching; the first rays of the sun were flickering off the periscopes lens. Their mission; attack the west coast with incendiary bombs in hopes of starting a devastating forest fire. 
If this test run were successful, Japan had hopes of using their huge submarine fleet to attack the eastern end of the Panama Canal to slow down shipping from the Atlantic to the Pacific. 
The Japanese Navy had a large number of I-400 submarines under construction. Each capable of carrying three aircraft. 
Pilot Chief Warrant Officer Nobuo Fujita and his crewman Petty Officer Shoji Okuda were making last minute checks of their charts making sure they matched those of the submarine's navigator.

September 9, 1942: Nebraska forestry student Keith V. Johnson was on duty atop a forest fire lookout tower between Gold Beach and Brookings Oregon . 
Keith had memorized the silhouettes of Japanese long distance bombers and those of our own aircraft. 
He felt confident that he could spot and identify, friend or foe, almost immediately. It was cold on the coast this September morning , and quiet. 
The residents of the area were still in bed or preparing to head for work. 
The aircraft carried two incendiary 168 pound bombs
and a crew of two
.


Lumber was a large part of the industry in Brookings, just a few miles north of the California Oregon state lines.

Aboard the submarine the Captain's voice boomed over the PA system, Prepare to surface, aircrew report to your stations, wait for the open hatch signal. 
During training runs several subs were lost when hangar door were opened too soon and sea water rushed into the hangars and sank the boat with all hands lost. 
You could hear the change of sound as the bow of the I-25 broke from the depths, nosed over for its run on the surface. 
A loud bell signaled the All Clear. 
The crew assigned to the single engine Yokosuki E14Ys float equipped observation and light attack aircraft sprang into action. 
They rolled the plane out its hangar built next to the conning tower. 
The wings and tail were unfolded, and several 176 pound incendiary bombs were attached to the hard points under the wings. 
This was a small two passenger float plane with a nine cylinder 340 hp radial engine. 
It was full daylight when the Captain ordered the aircraft to be placed on the catapult. 
Warrant Officer Fujita started the engine, let it warm up, checked the magnetos and oil pressure. 
There was a slight breeze blowing and the seas were calm. A perfect day to attack the United States of America . 
When the gauges were in the green the pilot signaled and the catapult launched the aircraft. After a short climb to altitude the pilot turned on a heading for the Oregon coast.

Johnson was sweeping the horizon but could see nothing, he went back to his duties as a forestry agent which was searching for any signs of a forest fire. The morning moved on. 
Every few minutes he would scan low, medium and high but nothing caught his eye.
The small Japanese float plane had climbed to several thousand feet of altitude for better visibility and to get above the coastal fog. 
The pilot had calculated land fall in a few minutes and right on schedule he could see the breakers flashing white as they hit theOregon shores.

Johnson was about to put his binoculars down when something flashed in the sun just above the fog bank. 
It was unusual because in the past all air traffic had been flying up and down the coast, not aiming into the coast.

The pilot of the aircraft checked his course and alerted his observer to be on the lookout for a fire tower which was on the edge of the wooded area where they were supposed to drop their bombs. 
These airplanes carried very little fuel and all flights were in and out without any loitering. 
The plane reached the shore line and the pilot made a course correction 20 degrees to the north. 
The huge trees were easy to spot and certainly easy to hit with the bombs. 
The fog was very wispy by this time.

Johnson watched in awe as the small floatplane with a red meat ball on the wings flew overhead, the plane was not a bomber and there was no way that it could have flown across the Pacific, Johnson could not understand what was happening. 
He locked onto the plane and followed it as it headed inland.

The pilot activated the release locks so that when he could pickled the bombs they would release. 
His instructions were simple, fly at 500 feet, drop the bombs into the trees and circle once to see if they had started any fires and then head back to the submarine.
The Glen was launched via catapult from
a I-25 class Japanese submarine.

Johnson could see the two bombs under the wing of the plane and knew that they would be dropped. 
He grabbed his communications radio and called the Forest Fire Headquarters informing them of what he was watching unfold.

The bombs tumbled from the small seaplane and impacted the forests, the pilot circled once and spotted fire around the impact point. 
He executed an 180 degree turn and headed back to the submarine. 
There was no air activity, the skies were clear. 
The small float plane lined up with the surfaced submarine and landed gently on the ocean, then taxied to the sub. A long boom swung out from the stern. 
His crewman caught the cable and hooked it into the pickup attached to the roll over cage between the cockpits. 
The plane was swung onto the deck, The plane's crew folded the wings and tail, pushed it into its hangar and secured the water tight doors. 
The I-25 submerged and headed back to Japan.

This event, which caused no damage, marked the only time during World War II that an enemy plane had dropped bombs on the United States mainland. 
What the Japanese didn't count on was coastal fog, mist and heavy doses of rain made the forests so wet they simply would not catch fire.



Warrant Officer Fujita is shown with his Yokosuka E14Y
(Glen) float plane prior to his flight
.



Fifty years later the Japanese pilot,
who survived the war,
would return to Oregon to help dedicate
a historical plaque at the exact spot
where his two bombs had impacted.
The elderly pilot then donated his ceremonial sword
as a gesture of peace and closure
of the bombing of Oregon in 1942
.



Military Vets will like this one!

A  US Air Force  C-130 was scheduled to leave Thule Air Base, Greenland, at midnight during a winter month.  

During the pilot's pre-flight check, he discovers that the latrine holding tank is still full from the last flight. So a message is sent to the base, and an airman who was off duty is called out to take care of it.

The young man finally gets to the air base and makes his way to the aircraft only to find that the latrine pump-truck has been left outdoors and is frozen solid, so he must find another one in the hangar, which takes even more time.  

He  returns to the aircraft and is less than enthusiastic about what he has to do.   

Nevertheless, he goes about the pumping job deliberately and carefully (and slowly) so as not to risk criticism later.

As he's leaving the plane, the pilot stops him and says, 'Son, your attitude and performance has caused this flight to be late, and I'm going to personally see to it that you are not just reprimanded but punished.'

Shivering in the cold, his task finished, he takes a deep breath, stands tall and says, 'Sir, with all due respect, I'm not your son;  I'm an Airman in the United States Air Force.  

I've been in Thule, Greenland for 11 months without any leave,  and reindeers' asses are beginning to look pretty good to me. 

I  have one stripe;  it's 2:30 in the morning; the temperature is 40  degrees below zero; and my job here is to pump shit out of an aircraft.  

Now just exactly what form of punishment did you have in mind?'

The surprised pilot thought a long moment, grinned, and then threw the airman a salute.



Saturday, December 17, 2011

Christmas Party ... Politically Incorrect

MEMO FROM: Patricia Harris , Human Resources Director

TO: All Employees

DATE: 4th DECEMBER
RE: Christmas Party

I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place on December 23rd, starting at noon in the private function room at the Grill House. There will be a cash bar and plenty of drinks!
We'll have a small band playing traditional carols...please feel free to sing along.
And don't be surprised if the Managing Director shows up dressed as Santa Claus! A Christmas tree will be lit at 1.00 p.m.
Exchange of gifts among employees can be done at that time; however, no gift should be over $10.00 to make the giving of gifts easy for everyone's pockets.

This gathering is only for employees! The Managing Director will make a special announcement at the Party.

Merry Christmas to you and your Family

Patricia
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FROM: Patricia Harris , Human Resources Director

TO: All Employees

DATE: 5th December
RE: Holiday Party

In no way was yesterday's memo intended to exclude our Jewish employees. We recognize that Chanukah is an important holiday, which often coincides with Christmas, though unfortunately not this year.
However, from now on we're calling it our 'Holiday Party.' The same policy applies to any other employees who are not Christians. There will be no Christmas tree or Christmas carols sung. We will have other types of music for your enjoyment.

Happy now?

Happy Holidays to you and your family,

Patricia .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FROM; Patricia Harris , Human Resources Director

TO: All Employees

DATE : 6th December

RE: Holiday Party

Regarding the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table...you didn't sign your name. I'm happy to accommodate this request, but if I put a sign on a table that reads, "AA Only," you wouldn't be anonymous anymore!!!! How am I supposed to handle this? Somebody?

Forget about the gift exchange, no gift exchange allowed now since the Union Officials feel that $10.00 is too much money and Management believe $10.00 is a little cheap.

NO GIFT EXCHANGE WILL BE ALLOWED.

Patricia .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FROM: Patricia Harris , Human Resources Director

TO: All Employees

DATE: 7th December

RE: Holiday Party

What a diverse group we are! I had no idea that December 20th begins the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, which forbids eating and drinking during day light hours. There goes the party! Seriously, we can appreciate how a luncheon at this time of year does not accommodate our Muslim employees' beliefs, perhaps the Grill House can hold off on serving your meal until the end of the party - or else package everything up for you to take home in a little foil doggy bag. Will that work?

Meanwhile, I've arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from the dessert buffet and pregnant women will get the table closest to the toilets, Gays are allowed to sit with each other,Lesbians do not have to sit with gay men, each will have their own table.

Yes, there will be flower arrangements for the gay men's table, too.

To the person asking permission to cross dress - no cross dressing allowed. And No, no blow-up sheep.

We will have booster seats for short people. Low fat food will be available for those on a diet. We cannot control the salt used in the food. We suggest those people with high blood pressure taste the food first. There will be fresh fruits as dessert for Diabetics, the restaurant cannot supply "No Sugar" desserts. Sorry!

Did I miss anything?!?!?!?!?!


Patricia .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FROM: Patricia Harris , Human Resources Director
TO: All F***** G Employees

DATE: 8 December

RE: The ******** Holiday Party.

Vegetarian pricks I've had it with you people!!! We're going to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it or not, so you can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death", as you so quaintly put it.

You'll get your f****** salad bar, including organic tomatoes, but you know tomatoes have feeling, too.

They scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream. I'm hearing them scream right NOW!!

Hope you all have a rotten holiday * drink, drive, and die!

The Bitch from HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FROM: John Bishop - Acting Human Resources Director

DATE: 12th December

RE: Patricia Harris and Holiday Party

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Patricia a speedy recovery and I'll continue to forward your cards to her.

In the meantime, Management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and instead, give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd December off with full pay.


Only One

I am only one, but still I am one.
I cannot do everything, but still I can do something;
And because I cannot do everything
I will not refuse to do the something that I can do.
--Edward Everett Hale

Friday, December 16, 2011

Santa Claus and Grandma

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma.
I was just a kid.

I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb:
"There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!"

My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been.
I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me.
I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns.
I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so.
It had to be true.

Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm.
Between bites, I told her everything.
She was ready for me.
"No Santa Claus?" she snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go."

"Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked.
I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun.
"Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything.
As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars.
That was a bundle in those days.
"Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car."
Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's.

I was only eight years old.
I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself.
The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping.

For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for.

I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, the people who went to my church.

I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker.
He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class.
Bobby Decker didn't have a coat.
I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter.
His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat.
I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement.
I would buy Bobby Decker a coat!
I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it.
It looked real warm, and he would like that.

"Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby."

The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat.
I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas.

That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it.
Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy.
Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers.

Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk.
Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going."

I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma.

Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open.
Finally it did, and there stood Bobby.

Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes.
That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were -- ridiculous.
Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team.

I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95.


May you always have LOVE to share,
HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care...

And may you always believe in the magic of Santa Claus!

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Cornfield Bomber

Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction...

1970, while assigned to the 71st FIS at Malmstrom AFB, Montana , its pilot ejected during an in-flight emergency.

The pilot somehow got himself into a flat spin -- considered generally unrecoverable in an F-106 and he did what the flight handbook said to do -- get out of it, i.e., eject.

After the pilot did just that, 58-0787 recovered itself from this "unrecoverable" situation.

In a vain attempt to break the spin, the pilot had lowered half flaps, rolled in takeoff trim, and throttled the engine back to an approach power setting.

After the ejection, the aircraft recovered from the spin on its own, and established a wings level low rate descent under reduced power to the ground.

Ground effect broke its rate of descent, and it settled into a near-perfect gentle belly landing in a farmer's snow-covered cornfield.

When the local sheriff came upon the scene, the engine was still running.

The aircraft was situated on a slight incline, and was creeping forward slowly under the thrust of its still-running engine, as the snow compressed to ice under it.

Concerned about where it might be headed, the sheriff didn't think he could wait for the recovery team to get there from Malstrom which was about 50 miles away; so he got himself connected to the aircraft's squadron for engine shut down instructions before he entered the cockpit to secure the engine.

The photos show pretty much what the sheriff beheld on that fateful day.

A depot team from McClellan AFB recovered the aircraft and it was eventually returned to service.

When the 71st FIS was disbanded in 1971, 58-0787, now famously known as the "Cornfield Bomber”, was transferred to the 49th FIS, where it finished out its operational service life.

Pilots of the 49th FIS would occasionally run into ex-71st FIS guys at William Tell and rag them unmercifully about the "emergency" so dire that the plane landed itself.

58-0787 is now on permanent display in its 49th FIS markings at the USAF Museum at Wright Patterson AFB , where its story is told in the exhibit.

While the 49th FIS Eagle jocks are reportedly glad to see their squadron immortalized in this way for millions to see, they would prefer to see it made more clear that it was the 71st, and not one of theirs, who jumped out of this perfectly good aircraft.

This Is Further indication that the Air Force has a perfect record ... They Have Never Left One Up There.

Sunday, December 11, 2011

A New Day

Renew,
Release,
LET GO!


Yesterdays gone.

There's nothing you can do to bring it back.

You can't "should've" done something.

You can only do something.

Renew yourself.

Release that attachment.

Today is a new day!

-- Steve Maraboli

We spend our days waiting for the ideal path to appear
in front of us but what we forget is that,
paths are made by walking, not by waiting.
So get up, get out and make it happen!


'MAKE IT' a Great Day!

A beautiful day begins with a prayer of gratitude

May your hearts be filled with joy and gladness.

Warm rays of the sun and joy.

Love and kindness with peace of mind;
to use your wisdom in every situation.

With prayers that Fortune with blessings to all shall be given.

May you all have a beautiful and wonderful day.

Amen.

Love Is a Verb ...


My friend, love is a verb.

Love – the feeling – is a fruit of love the verb.

So love her.

Sacrifice.

Listen to her.

Empathize.

Appreciate.

Affirm her.

Are you willing to do that?”
~Steven Covey

Saturday, December 10, 2011

Fast and inexpensive way to build a house!

Thought you might appreciate this.... not exactly a pre fab, but pretty clever.

Reminds me of the motorhome that was made from a trash truck