Eleven Years, Yammering On!

pi

A little more than eleven years ago, I ventured out to the internetz and discovered an entire world of voices just as disgruntled as mine.  I thought if they can do it, so can I.  And one day I just started.

I didn’t pick Pi Day / Albert Einstein’s birthday on purpose.  It was just the day I loosed my inner pyromaniac.  Some days are bright, happy blazes, and others were full-blown five alarmers.  Regardless, it’s been a slow burn for a long time.

The years have expanded the web’s depth and reach.  And sharpened my resolve as I honed my voice.

In the last several year’s anniversary posts, I’ve hinted at my mother’s decline in health. She continues to live in her home, but no longer drives. A caregiver visits during the week.  Her weight has fallen and now she’s like a frail little bird.  She still remembers me, most of the time.  But daily tasks are becoming harder for her.   I understand why dementia is called “The Long Goodbye.”  Every time I see her, she is changed.  Just a tiny fraction.  But she is diminishing, slowly evaporating before my eyes.

So I spend as much time with her as I can.  The blog has suffered, along with other areas of my life.  But I’m still active on the web in discussions I care about and contributing to other sites.  I know the time will come when I sadly have too much time because my responsibilities to others have ended.  Hopefully, we will still have enough free speech left that I can speak my mind here.

Eleven years is longer than two of my career stops. Most cars/marriages/fruit cakes don’t last that long. Many other blogs (and friends) have fallen away. They are missed. Others, not so much.

If you’re new to this dark little asteroid, you can check out the one post that started it all, plus all nine of the previous anniversary posts – The First, Year One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine and Ten.

Many, many friends have been made along the way. Many prayers said. So much support offered. Special thanks go out to Fausta for her continued friendship, and as always to The Anchoress, Elizabeth Scalia, my blog-mother. It’s all her fault. She is now a full-fledged editor of an international faith site. She continues to amaze and inspire me.

This last year’s worth of campaign and election season has brought out the worst in all of us.  Let us pray as one for America’s future, safety and sovereignty.

Who Are These People?

I miss writing here.  I miss a lot of things these days. This little blog has been on hiatus because my mother’s dementia is advancing.  Only those who have witnessed this abomination will understand.

A bright, vibrant, strong Southern woman is now a shell of her former self.  The vacant stares, constant questions, lost bills, sleep problems, lost friends and decline in health are just the tip of the iceberg.

But Wednesday, I realized my prayers for More Time weren’t being answered.  I was sitting at her kitchen table, working on the computer when she wandered in waving a photograph.  She’s been going through old pictures.  Between the two of us, we identify the people and/or places and she writes the information on the back of the picture.

She shows me the latest picture, asking, “Who are these people?” My heart sank.  The people in the picture were her grandchildren.  It was taken sometime during the summer four years ago before my eldest went north, to start her graduate school in New York.  Gently, ever so gently, so as not to agitate her, I help her remember each one, their name, and what they are doing now.  Five minutes later, she’s off to some other distracted task.  I sit there, numb and sad.  So deeply sad.  The windows are closing.

Pray for us.  Pray for strength.  Pray for His Peace to cover us on the road ahead.

Everything happens according to God’s plan and in His time.

Fifteen

There are things you don’t understand until you’re older.

Happiness so beyond measure you think your heart will burst. Pride in the (seemingly Herculian) feat that the obnoxious teenagers skulking about your house just a few years ago have actually turned into fine adults. Grief that never ends. It may fade like a low tide, but it will surge. Again and again.

Every fall, on what always seems to be a perfectly clear day, the wound reopens.

From a previous post:

This day always exposes the dark hole in all of us that believe in America.

Despite the sadness, and the blustery misdirection of politicos and media hounds, remember those who died this day at the hands of terrorist Islamists that our government now secretly embraces.

Georgia lost four sons that day:

  • Claude Michael Gann of Roswell, whose tribute you can find here. Mike was recently remarried and attending a conference at Windows on the World.
  • Major Stephen V. Long of Georgia, whose tributes you can find here and here. Already a war hero, he was at his post at the Pentagon when it was attacked.
  • Maynard S. Spence Jr of Douglasville, whose tribute you can find here. He was on the 99th floor of the second tower.
  • Harshad Sham Thatte of Norcross, whose Legacy page is here. He worked for the same company as Mr. Spence, Marsh & McLennan.

Last summer, I was privileged to visit the 9/11 Memorial in NYC. Read that post here.

Even in the bustle of the busy, busy city, it is a reverent place.

Never, ever forget.

Never, ever forget.

Yep. It’s been Ten Years.

pi_boyton

A little more than ten years ago, I ventured out to the internetz and discovered an entire world of voices just as disgruntled as mine.  I thought if they can do it, so can I.  And one day I just started.

I didn’t pick Pi Day / Albert Einstein’s birthday on purpose.  It was just the day I loosed my inner pyromaniac.  Some days are bright, happy blazes, and others were full-blown five alarmers.  Regardless, it’s been a slow burn for a long time.

The years have expanded the web’s depth and reach.  And sharpened my resolve as I honed my voice.

In last year’s anniversary post, I hinted at my mother’s decline in health. She continues to live in her home, but no longer drives. A caregiver visits during the week.  Her weight has fallen and now she’s like a frail little bird.  Over last summer, she was hospitalized twice.  She still remembers me, most of the time.  But daily tasks are becoming harder for her.   I understand why dementia is called “The Long Goodbye.”  Every time I see her, she is changed.  Just a tiny fraction.  But she is diminishing, slowly evaporating before my eyes.

So I spend as much time with her as I can.  The blog has suffered, along with other areas of my life.  But I’m still active on the web in discussions and contributing to other sites.  I know the time will come when I sadly have too much time because my responsibilities to others have ended.  Hopefully, we will still have enough free speech left that I can speak my mind here.

Ten years is longer than two of my career stops. Most cars/marriages/fruit cakes don’t last that long. Many other blogs (and friends) have fallen away. They are missed. Others, not so much.

If you’re new to this dark little asteroid, you can check out the one post that started it all, plus all nine of the previous anniversary posts – The First, Year One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, and Nine.

Many, many friends have been made along the way. Many prayers said. So much support offered. Special thanks go out to Fausta for her continued friendship, and as always to The Anchoress, Elizabeth Scalia, my blog-mother. It’s all her fault. She continues to amaze and inspire me.

This election season has brought out the worst in all of us.  Let us pray as one for America’s future, safety and sovereignty.

Does My Vote Even Count Anymore?

Yesterday was the Georgia Presidential Primary. After a great deal of prayer and soul/google searching, I voted for Ted Cruz.

This campaign cycle has grated on my nerves to such a point I’m considering abandoning Facebook and Twitter until 2017, at least. Just because I disagree with your candidate du jour’s position/statement/hair style doesn’t mean you have to scream that I’m a hater/bigot/racist/closet Lutheran and you’re going to get me blocked from whatever social media platform you prefer. Just because I voted for one guy doesn’t mean I hate all the others. Get a grip, people.

I’m listening to my buddy on the radio today. He’s slowly unraveling a debrief of why Georgians voted the way they did. But the callers don’t want to hear facts; they want to bash him for saying he’d never vote for Trump.

Well, cranky callers, I won’t vote for Trump, either. Besides not putting out any coherent policy points, and making up words; he just flat gives me the creeps. Max Lucado said it best.  Be a decent human being. You want the President to be someone you can respect and teach your grandchildren to respect while you’re trying to sneak in a little citizenship lesson. Someone who will project strength to our enemies (who have multiplied greatly under the current regime) and trust with our allies. Not someone who threatens to sue everyone out of one side of their mouth and call the rest ugly names out of the other.  No art of the deal for me.

Somehow, instead of voting, it feels like a lousy participation trophy.  Bleh.

participation.jpg

 

 

Things, They Are A’Changin’

Well, obviously I’ve been away for a bit. I’ve thought a lot about y’all; hopefully you haven’t forgotten about me.

Shortly after my father passed away in 2013, my mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.  Since then, I’ve been on a roller coaster of emotion, education and exhaustion.  Finally I feel like we’ve reached a place where we can breathe, even if it may only be for a short time.

As a church friend says, “Enjoy the journey.”  No matter how much it hurts.  There will be joy at the end.

Stay tuned folks, changes are in the air.

 

Fourteen

Freedom TowerToday is the 14th anniversary of the 9/11 Islamist terrorist attacks on American soil.

Rather than focus on all the noise and negativity, allow me a few moments of personal privilege.

My oldest goes to school in NY.  One of my “bucket items” was to visit the 9/11 Memorial before she finished her studies and moved on to greener pastures.  She made it happen this summer when I traveled back with her in the weeks before her semester began.

We got to the Memorial around 11am and it was already crowded and very hot/humid.  I purposely found the four* Georgians killed in the attack and their names.  By the time I got to Mike, the tears were streaming down my face.  My daughter was just a high school freshman that fateful day.  She, and those younger, may never understand the violation we felt.  Not just that day, but the next, and the years to come.

Never forget.

September 11, 2001 dawned as a beautiful autumn morning.  Lightly crisp, brilliant blue sky. What many call a “Chamber of Commerce Day.”

At 7:59 am, American Airlines flight 11 departs Boston Logan bound for Los Angeles. It never made the destination. Instead, it crashed at 8:46 into the North Tower of the World Trade Center.  At 10:28, the North Tower collapses, killing Michael Gann of Roswell.  He was attending a conference and was due to return home that afternoon. Read more here.

michaelGann

Never forget.

At 8:14 am, United flight 175 departs Boston Logan bound for Los Angeles. It never made the destination. Instead, it crashed at 9:03 into the South Tower of the World Trade Center.  At 9:59, the South Tower collapses, killing Harshad Thatte of Norcross and Maynard Spence, Jr of Douglasville.

harshadThatte

Harshad and Maynard worked for the same company.  Harshad’s Condolences page here (the Obit page is under maintenance.)

Maynard is remembered as caring man with an infectious laugh. Read more here.

maynardSpence

Never forget.

At 8:20 am, American Airlines flight 77 departs Washington Dulles bound for Los Angeles. It never made the destination. Instead, it crashed at 9:37 into the Pentagon, killing Georgians Maj. Stephen Long and Maj. Wallace Cole Hogan at their posts. Read more about Stephen here. Cole had startling blue eyes. Read his story here.

stephenLong

Never forget.

At 8:41 am, American Airlines flight 93 departs Newark bound for San Francisco. It never made the destination. Instead, the heroic passengers and crew mounted an attack against the lunatics who hijacked  the aircraft.  It crashed near Shanksville, PA, taking 40 heroic souls and 4 terrorists with it. While none were Georgians, the 40 heroes who gave their lives are dear to our hearts. Read more here.

Never forget.

Nearly 3000 people died that day during the attacks. But remember the many who died in the days and years later of injuries, complications, long term illnesses caused by exposure and devastating grief. Remember the shattered families. Children without parents. Parents without children.

Never forget.

Never, ever forget.

[UPDATE: *I have just learned that there was another Georgian, Maj. Cole Hogan, who was killed at the Pentagon. I’ve added his name above and someday will make it back to the Memorial to get his picture.]

God Bless America

american-flag2

Is This Still a Thing? After Nine Years, You Betcha

Pi-Day

It has been a long year. And I admit my guilt of long-term absence from the interwebz, citing my own time-constraints as an alibi. But yes, this blog is still a thing.

Caring for my mom has become a part-time job. I don’t mind it so much, after all it is a season of life we all must pass through. I’m thankful for every day that she still knows who I am and we’ve not had to retrieve her from some highway rest stop due to some unintended walk-about. But I know those days are coming and we’re fighting them off like the vandal horde they are.

It does take time from other things. Like the little blog here. But enough about me and my new normal, at least for this week.

Nine years is longer than two of my career stops. Most cars/marriages/fruit cakes don’t last that long. Many other blogs (and friends) have fallen away. They are missed. Some more than others.

If you’re new to this dark little asteroid, you can check out the one post that started it all, plus all eight of the previous anniversary posts – The First, Year One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven and Eight.

Many, many friends have been made along the way. Many prayers said. So much support offered. Special thanks go out to Fausta for her continued friendship, and as always to The Anchoress, Elizabeth Scalia, my blog-mother. It’s all her fault. She continues to amaze and inspire me.

Let the wild rumpus start!

Obama Flunks History…Again

Jeff Quinton has an excellent read on why Obama’s remarks at the National Prayer Breakfast were wrong.

Didn’t he have a tee time, or something?

Evil That’s Been Around Since the Beginning of Time

Thirteen years ago we were attacked by Evil Incarnate. We are even less safe now than we were last year. As we remember those that fell that day and in the years since, pray for our protection against this Evil in the days to come.

Republishing last year’s post in full:

This day always exposes the dark hole in all of us that believe in America.

Gerard always says what I’m thinking so well…

What the nation has become, through death by fire, bravado, war, forgetfulness, treason, and blunt stupidity could not have been foretold on September 10, but here we are — a lurching ship of state captained by a malicious hater of the American soil. That same captain, maddened by his own stunted heritage, will today disgrace the soil of Ground Zero. It is a difficult reality that has been dealt by the hands of fate; one that is still being played out.

Despite the sadness, and the blustery misdirection of politicos and media hounds, remember those who died this day at the hands of terrorist Islamists that our government now secretly embraces.

Georgia lost four sons that day:

  • Claude Michael Gann of Roswell, whose tribute you can find here. Mike was recently remarried and attending a conference at Windows on the World.
  • Major Stephen V. Long of Georgia, whose tributes you can find here and here. Already a war hero, he was at his post at the Pentagon when it was attacked.
  • Maynard S. Spence Jr of Douglasville, whose tribute you can find here. He was on the 99th floor of the second tower.
  • Harshad Sham Thatte of Norcross, whose Legacy page is here. He worked for the same company as Mr. Spence, Marsh & McLennan.
Never, ever forget.

Never, ever forget.

Enough Is Enough

Someone left the cake out in the rain
And I don’t think that I can take it
’cause it took so long to bake it
And I’ll never have that recipe again
Oh, no!! — MacArthur Park

Once you get to be in the general neighborhood of 50, it’s natural to look back at your life and take stock. Sometimes people feel smug and accomplished. Others frantically scribble bucket lists, believing they’ll keel over any minute. Remember when you were a kid, and someone over 30 was just an ancient dinosaur? So square, man.

With age comes wisdom. For some, their compassion deepens. Others hone a tempered kind of discernment. Ever a patient man, I can remember when my Dad’s last button was finally pushed. He’d say, “Enough is enough.” These last few weeks I’ve reached that point that I want to shout it to the Heavens!

Our dithering President.

An ancient evil rears its ugly head.

This mess in Missouri. (There are just too many links.)

This mess in … (name your favorite crisis).

I look at my children, both returned to school this past week. The eldest, back on Long Island, starting her Doctorate. The least’un, preparing to graduate this December with his Bachelors. What does the future hold for them? Opportunity? Prosperity? Freedom to worship? Or burqas, death and destruction?

George-Washington-praying

I hope for the best. And I know that God is in control. There is nothing wrong with personal idealism, especially when striving for a better America. This country was founded on the prayers of great men. Prayer is the best way to fight this evil.

It’s something we’ve talked about a lot on this blog, but it bears repeating: prayer is a subversive means of freedom, at once consoling, engaging and efficacious throughout time and space. It has power, and that power holds, when everything else falls apart.

Indeed. Think of the power of a nation on its knees – in prayer, not in subjugation to some self-professed liberal thugocracy or caliphate du jour.

Dear Lord,
Once again men of Faith and of the West face the swords of the heretics. Once again, those who oppose Thy divine Order surround the remnant of Christian Civilization like wolves against prey. Once again, dear God, we turn our eyes to You and beg Thy gracious aid. If it be thy will, dear Lord, save us. If it be Thy will, raise up a great Leader to inspire Christian hearts in this country and in all the world. If it be Thy will, O Lord, send us a leader, a man to shore up our sagging spirits and rally us to the defense of our faith, our posterity, and our patrimony.

But enough is enough for now. I’m back and working up a head of steam. I may not have that recipe again, but I’m writing a new one, so watch out.

(Here’s the song: Forgive the disco version. It reminds me of high school days when we were all invincible.)

Eight Years of ME, Talking About Stuff

pi-be rationalAnd another blogiversary rolls around. Last year’s little black cloud has become a tsunami of Charlton Heston/Ten Commandment’s proportions that I only manage to stay ahead of on a daily basis.

Philippians 4:13, always my favorite scripture, has become a mantra of sorts.

I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

Eight years is longer than one of my career stops. Most cars/marriages/fruit cakes don’t last that long. If you’re new to this dark little asteroid, you can check out the one post that started it all, plus all seven of the previous anniversary posts – The First, Year One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and Seven.

Many, many friends have been made along the way. Many prayers said. So much support offered. Special thanks go out to Fausta for her continued friendship, and as always to The Anchoress, Elizabeth Scalia, my blog-mother. It’s all her fault.

As I adjust to this new normal, I’ll be lurking about more often. Really. I will.

The Answer to Everything – Space Monkeys

The astute Mr. Kevin Williamson says at NRO what we all know: we’re being governed by space monkeys.

I have spent a fair amount of time around elected officials, regulators, and the like, and when I see them, I think: space monkeys. The first monkey to make it into space was called Albert II, who went up on a V2 rocket. Albert II survived the space flight but not, unlucky little beast, the parachute failure that followed. We primates are in a sense one big family, and the first of us to see the majesty of our little corner of the universe from a vantage point beyond the surly bonds of Earth was a rhesus monkey, the stars laid out like a trail of diamonds before his uncomprehending eyes. The complexity of even the simplest markets is as far beyond the understanding of any politician or bureaucracy — or any single human mind — as astrophysics is beyond a rhesus monkey. Politicians steer the economy like Albert II steered that rocket. It isn’t just that they don’t know which levers to pull at what time — they’re clever enough — but that the thing itself is so incomprehensibly complex as to be effectively unknowable to them.

space_monkey

Liberty Haters Are Coming Out of the Woodwork

BFFs Chuck Schumer and Corey Booker hate Liberty sooooo much they want their Grand Enabler to sic the IRS on the Tea Party.

Wait, hasn’t he already done that?

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