Sunday, September 28, 2008

oh yeah .. doggie update

here is the update on the dogs ..

As you last heard, we had taken in a third boxer on a foster type arrangement. Samson is a 5 yr old boxer. His owners were moving and needed to find a place for their two dogs. we found a home for one, but not for the 120 pound boxer. He came in with us for a while (5 weeks).

Samson was a great gentle giant. He was no trouble. the trouble was with Dusty and Rocky, our other boxers. Here is the run down.

We got Rocky in September last year for my 50th birthday. My birthday is October 4 (for those of you that need a shopping reminder.) At that time we only had Lacy (dog-wise) a 4 yr old Mini doxie (a bat-eared stretched out wiener rat .. Sorry to Trish and any other mini doxie owners.) Lacy adopted Rocky even though he was bigger than her coming in the door. Still, he was a pup, and accepted this hierarchy.
A couple months later, a guy in Louisville inherited a boxer, much the same way we did Samson, and asked if we wanted Dusty. We took him. There was no problem. Dusty accepted the role of alpha male and Rocky submitted cheerfully. All was well in animal kingdom-ville.

Enter Samson. Rocky submitted, no problem. Dusty - not so much. He and Sam tolerated each other for the most part. Dusty yielded when he had too. The problem was Rocky. His submission extended to both dogs. This set up a hierarchy problem. It manifested itself mostly by Dusty and Rocky getting into fierce scraps. We would have to pull them apart.

We found a home for Samson. We hoped that would fix the other problem. No such luck. Rocky and Dusty still got into melees. We decided we had to get rid of Dusty. We were afraid for Cloe. Dusty has never been aggressive toward any human. However, he is blinded to what he is doing when he and Rocky get into it. If Cloe is in their path, she will get hurt.
We put an ad on Craigslist. We specified that dusty had to go to a single pet home. He doesn't do well with other male dogs and doesn't do well with cats either. We had a slew of responses. Mostly from people that cannot read. How hard is it to understand "Single pet home" ?

We even managed to give him away once. They called us the next day. He got after their cat. Duh, told ya he didn't like them.

So, anyway, Dusty is back with us. We keep the dog separated for the time being. Dusty has an aggression adjusting appointment on October 8th. Yes, he is going in for a sac snip, a testicle tuck, a de-nutting, the eunuch maker. This should curb his testosterone fueled aggression. We shall see.

For now, we work around them being in different areas of the house. One stays upstairs and the other downstairs. We swap them out at irregular intervals. Ten more days.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Roughing it

yeah, we were roughing it.

Yesterday, Tammy went to take Kyle to a dance at the middle school. On an unbelievable note, it was $4 for a 1.5 hour dance. She took the Duster (boxer) with her. On the return the to house trip, Dusty it seems, pulled the phone wire feeding the house out of the old style connection box. we were without phones (house) or (GASP) DSL. that's right, no Internet!!!

Backing up a bit: Tammy was going to take the Crown Vic, but I locked it when I parked it. she didn't tell me that the keys that came with the car (we bought it about a week ago) did not unlock the doors. Hence, don't lock the car. Our friend,Jesse, was coming to go to the car auction with us. (I know, we have five cars here and we are going to a car auction?) He brought his 'kit' for people who lock themselves out of their cars. This kit has slim jims, and other apparatus for breaking into cars. It even had an instruction manual, showing the best way to break into each of the various models of cars. Of course, the one car not in the manual .. the Ford Crown Victoria (figures.)

After no luck with any of the supplied tools, I used the cars antenna and a coat hanger to push the unlock button on the door panel. It only took us thirty minutes to break into our own car. I don't see a career in hot cars in my future.

We went to the auction. We saw a few things we might have bid on, but we were here as observers only, this trip. It isn't that we need any more cars, even tho we do have two of the five for sale. It is the kids that are usually looking for cars. Chella has a potential buyer for her mustang and wants to find something a little newer (Mustang is '91.) Sierra is always borrowing our cars to run her errands. She needs to find something that is mechanically sound enough to not nickle and dime her, but won't go on long trips. Then, Tammy is already looking at selling the Vic, (since we got it so cheap,) and buying 'up.'

We got back from the auction before 9. It was early. We had no internet. SIGH! No email. No web surfing. No Pogo. No blogs to read.

Fortunately, we still had satellite. We watched the presidential debate (most of it.) Then settled in to watch a movie or so. Chella got home around 11. She was excited about her new phone. (Oh yeah, hers broke, and her loaner was acting up.) Jesse is also our phone connection. He works for AT&T Wireless.

AT&T got here this morning, replaced the old school connection box with a new updated version, drove a ground rod, fixed the wire from the pole, showed me where to hook up any new lines I may want to add later, played with the dogs, and restored our connection to the outside world.

The 'roughing it' is over.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Without You

As much as I love the glistening of the sun
Brightly in the sky or on the ground
The sun shines it best when it dances lightly
Across the softness of your skin
Or through the fineness of your hair
I love the sunshine more because it shines on you

As much as I love the gentleness of the summer rain
The beating sound hitting the roof or the warm sting against my skin
The rain is at its finest when its symphony plays
Against the suppleness of your flesh
Or runs down the laughing lines of your face
I love the rain more because it cascades down on you

As much as I love the sticky wetness of a winter snow
I love it more when you dance through it
As much as I love the sparkle of the stars
I love them more when they are reflected in your eyes
As much as I adore a warm caress
I adore it all the more when your hand caresses

Take away any of these and I will survive
Take away all of them and I will miss them greatly
But as long as I have you I will still go on

Take you away …
And the sun needs not shine
The rains need not fall
The stars do not need to sparkle
The snow need not fall
There is no warmth in any caress

Without you,
All of these lose some part of their splendor
Without you,
All of these are less
Without you

Ron Simpson, Jr.
September 24, 2008

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Audrey and the spider named Wilson

Audrey had her partial hystorectomy. They did leave her ovaries. The surgery was done by a robot controlled by her doctor. Audrey said it looked like a spider. Her nurses said it was named Wilson, hence, a spider named Wilson. It was cool. They made 5 small incisions and that was it.

Tammy and I spent the night at the hospital. The staff there brought me a chair that unfolds out to a bed. Still, it wasn't my waterbed. Add to that, that the staff came in about every hour to do something, take something, check something, and it was a restless night. We left this morning. She was doing better and Adam (hubby) was on his way there.

This pic is her, post surgery.

They say she will go home this afternoon, if she pees on her own and gets up and moves around. Amazing!

Monday, September 22, 2008

Audrey is all smiles so far this morning. We went back to see her prior to surgery. She was doing well. We are in the waiting room on the laptop, already posting her prior to surgery pic.

Friday, September 19, 2008

trips back .. in time and place

Yesterday, I took a trip back.
Let me start by telling you that my oldest daughter is having surgery on Monday. She called me to discuss it and another issue. Her surgery is in the same hospital where dad died. She started her quest by asking me if I blamed the hospital for dad's death.

While Dad was recovering from cancer surgery (they had removed one of his kidneys,) he began having trouble with fluid build up. This was a great concern for his doctors. They were afraid that the one kidney was not picking up the extra work. (I am paraphrasing and simplifying.) They scheduled more tests and procedures. The orderlies came to get dad to take him downstairs for the tests. They were not able to get him on a gurney, as dad was a large man. They eventually decide to just take him down in the bed he was in. They laid it down and wheeled him out. as he was leaving the room and going down the hall, I heard him tell the orderlies that he could breathe better if they sat him up a little.

While downstairs waiting on the test, dad stopped breathing. His heart stopped. It took them eight minuted to resuscitate him. He never fully recovered after that. There were fleeting moments when he would look at someone or squeeze a hand, but they were few. After two weeks, we removed him from the ventilator. Twenty-four hours later, surrounded by his family, dad left us.

Now, to the blame thing. I do feel that the hospital had some culpability in dad's death. I believe they were instrumental in the way he died. However, I also feel that it was dad's time. I am not one of those, "If it is your time, there is nothing you can do about it, so don't fight it" type of people. I am not going to step in front of a bus and say, "If it isn't my time, I'll be okay." Nope, not going to happen. So, do I blame the hospital ? Yes and no. I know, could I be a little more vague?

She (daughter) is having surgery at that same hospital. Her doctor does surgery at the two hospital of that group. The only one with the equipment she needs is that one. "A" was freaking out a little. She has not been back to that hospital since dad's death, either. She was scared. I told her that I would be there when she went in. I would be there when she went to sleep. (It is a one night stay at the very least.) I would be there when she woke up. I would be there when she went home. Monday was going to be the first time back for both of us.

We were at home Thursday, when my phone (in the bedroom .. away from me) rang. I didn't try to answer it. Most people have both numbers (mine and Tammy's) so if it is important, they know the second number to dial. Tammy's phone rang. It was one of the ladies from the church. Her mother was at the Bourbon County Hospital and they were getting ready to take her to the hospital in Lexington. They thought she had a blockage in her heart. Our pastor, Brother Rudd was having a medical procedure at the time and would not be able to be there. I told her that I would be there when they arrived. She was going to .. you guessed it .. the hospital where dad died.

We arrived before the ambulance. We were coming from different places. We stopped and grabbed some lunch, not knowing how long we might be here. We ate it in the parking lot of the hospital. I prepared myself for any onslaught of emotion that might happen when I went into the building. I did okay. I kept myself busy while waiting. the TV was on in part of the waiting area. The family arrived. I talked with them. Eventually we were able to go into the unit to see "C". We talked to her about healing and stubbornness. We prayed with her and daughter.

From there we went home, since Kyle was coming home from school. Later the family called us to say she was going home. They couldn't find anything wrong. They ran a second EKG and it was the total opposite of the one ran in the Bourbon County Hospital. I will let you draw your own conclusions.

I think, being there with a purpose made a difference. I did not sit and think about the last trip. "A" called me today to tell me she had to be there later that day for preliminaries. I offered to meet her there, but she assured me she would be okay. She called me tonight to tell me she only broke down twice. "A" .. if you are reading this .. know this .. your daddy loves you .. you worry too much .. but it is part of who you are .. and I wouldn't change ya .. oh yeah .. and I still talk to him too .. (dad)

so, my trip back .. in place and time .. was okay. It was a good warm up for Monday.

We will see what that will bring ..

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Strange Questions .. or .. Helping educate the next generation

Last night, we were watching some TV, when a commercial for Dairy Queen came on. it was one where the red lips (spokesman/Spokeslips ? for DQ) was talking about gravy and biscuits. Then he (assuming this because of the voice .. not a gender bias that all free roaming lips must be male,) is drenched with gravy. After licking it all off, he yells, "Is that all you got?" and is doused again. Tammy commented that it looked good. We had to be out and about today a little early. I suggested that we get biscuits and gravy for breakfast. Tammy accepted my suggestion and approved the message. (Sarcastic political humor here.)

This morning we venture out. We have the Chella with us. (I'll update that situation later.) I didn't feel in the DQ mood this morning. I had already decided on a different course. I drove away from the house in a direction opposite the DQ direction. Tammy chimed in that she didn't care one way or the other if I didn't want to go to DQ. I told her I had decided to do the Cracker Barrel instead. She was enthusiastically for that.

As we were chowing down on delicious gravy and biscuits, and sausage for Tammy and I, eggs and bacon for the Chella, Chella made a comment/question about rocking chairs. She queried as to why old folks (I didn't ask her definition of old .. after all, she is only 17 .. definitions of old are decidedly age specific,) liked to sit in rocking chairs. I was aghast. How could a bright young girl not be clued in to the wonders of the rocking chair? How could she not be aware of the magical portal that accompanies rocking chairs? How, in her nearly 18 years, had these things escaped her education?

I explained to her the mythical ways of the rocking chair. I told her how troubles vanish and cares fade in the gentle rocking of these thrones of stress-less-ness. When you sit in a rocking chair, and begin to move it back and forward, the goodness of the world is magnified and the badness in minimized. One is magically transported to a time when peace ruled the planets. Somewhere out there is a chaotic, turbulent, tumultuous, existence. however, here in the arms of the Rocker, serenity reigns.

As we finished our meal and began to leave, we passed a couple of rockers set up on either side of a barrel sporting a checkers board. I had Chella sit in the rocker. I began to rock her gently. i asked her how that felt. "Like being back in my mothers womb," she replied.

She went on outside while I paid the check. When I got outside, I found Chella, in a rocker on the outside. We have a new convert. I am just doing my part to educate the youth of today. As we left our small town and ventured into the big city, Chella laid down in the TB and slept peacefully. The serenity of the rocker still clung to her. She slept in peace ..

Why indeed !

Kyle asked, a couple days ago, what was the name for the highest number? What was it called?

Where do these kids get this stuff? I told Kyle, there is no highest number. If you were able to count to the highest number, when you got there, and boldly proclaimed that you had reached that pinnacle, someone nearby (and there is always someone like this nearby,) would say, "and one." The counting would begin anew with each new level receiving a new name, "and one."

I trust this helps in educating your youth !

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Number 771

According to Blogspot, this is my seven hundred seventy-first post on this blog.

That isn't that much compared to some of the bloggers I read, and a lot compared to others. It made me think about the ones we celebrate, posts, not bloggers. We set thresholds in our minds in most things we do. We decide that making it to certain birthdays are more monumental than others. Anniversaries, marriage or others, are the the same way. It is just something we get from growing up, I suppose. we see others doing the same thing and figure it is the way to do it. I am not saying it is wrong or right. It is just an observation.

It made me think, as I was opening my dashboard to sign on to post. I really didn't have a great deal to post about. The week finish and the weekend were mostly pleasant and non-eventful. There were no catastrophes. There were no train wrecks of emotion. There were no heart wrenching moments. It was a pleasant nondescript weekend. Don't get me wrong, there were moments.

My daughter called me and told me her son had a spot on stomach that the doctors suspected was the flesh eating, antibiotic resistant, staff infection. There had been several cases of it, it seems, in her town. That could have been a moment, but she hadn't gotten him in to see the doctor yet. So, worrying about it was moot. Not to say, there wasn't concern and prayer. There was. She called after the doctor visit to say they confirmed it was not the staff infection. It was more likely eczema, which she (his mom, my daughter) has had since she was a child.

There were storm/wind concerns on Sunday. The winds from Ike were here and unusually high. In some areas, the winds were gusting over 60 miles per hour. There were trees down on power lines and cars all over. However, we had no damage. We just had some pleasant gusty weather. Nothing catastrophic at all.

So here were were, four days since our last post, a non-eventful weekend behind us, a seeming smooth week ahead of us, and post number seven hundred, seventy-one.

Just last October, I turned 50. It was one of those celebratory birthdays. It was one of those monuments we build in our heads. It was 'The BIG 5-0'. Not to be confused with the 'BIG 4-9'. Just doesn't have the same ring, does it? The thing is, with out the big 4-9, there would be no big 5-0.

Without these non-eventful weekends, we would never arrive at the monuments of our self chosen hallmarks in life. The weekend just past, uneventful and nondescript, was just as important in getting me to my next BIG life event, as all those drama filled, event crammed, exploding, weekends and week days that we report all about. I don't remember what post 750 was about. I can't recall what post 500 was about. I am sure that post 1000 (should I live that long) will be something amazing, but here we are, at post 771. It is just a placeholder. It is easy to overlook. BUT, without it, 1000 wouldn't be 1000.

Every day, filled or boring, brought me to today. Everyone of them important in the real grand scheme of things. I just remembered the premise to the movie, "Click" starring Adam Sandler. If you haven't seen it or heard of it, it goes like this. A man is given a remote that controls his life. He can fast forward through some parts to get to the good parts. According to the movie, the remote learns his choices and begins moving him through his life from plateau to plateau. He hits only the high spots. He misses so much. He learns this just as his life ends. I will purposely leave it at that as I do not want to spoil the ending.

It is a good comedic commentary on how we, so many of us, view life as one mountaintop to the next mountaintop. So, here is to post 771, and 643, and 437, and 14. I don't know what they were all about, but I do know they got me here.

What post are you on today?

Thursday, September 11, 2008


We have not forgotten !

My warm friend

The hot days of summer are dwindling down
The mornings arrive wrapped in a new blanket of cool
It is not cold by any means, but the morning blaze is gone
The early air feels moist now instead of dry

Summer still comes for his afternoon visit
The sun still shines brightly in the sky
The hot sticky is just coming later each day
And it leaves earlier than the day before

Lest you become confused and this may do it
I must let you know summer is not my warm friend
No no, not with the arid hotness of a dragons breath
Summer is hot, staying too long, working too hard

My warm friend comes bearing a blanket
She comes with a whisper or a howl
She curls her icy fingers around you
And chills you to your soul

Some days she comes dry and brittle
Some days she comes white and heavy
She will make you cling to the blankets at night
And wait until the last chance to get out of bed

My warm friends name comes like a whisper
Stolen from the lips of the gods
A cloud high above rooftops
let’s go a gentle refrain .. Calling her name .. Winter

Summer boasts his fervent heat
He rants and raves his summer storms
But inside he knows and trembles
Winter is coming to chase him away

Autumn will stand between them
Like a staid referee
Somberly holding them apart
While they glare across the divide

Summer hears the chorus of complainers
Wishing end to summers reign
Calling for the coldness of winter
In the fickleness that is man

Winter know too well the murmurers
Decrying her nipping frosty touch
Caught in winters beautiful grasp
Calling out for summers hot

Not I, for I embrace my warm friend
I embrace my blanket of beauty
I know of summer’s necessity
But long for the touch of winter

The touch of her invigorating kiss
The feel of her piercing gaze
Her unsympathetic reality
I am winter, did you expect less?

So, come winter
Come across the mountains
Blow across the plains
Dive down from your high northern perch
Come to me, my warm friend.

Ron Simpson Jr.
September, 11, 2008

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

A proud moment in the life of a parent

Some times I look at the kids (seven of them) and shake my head sadly. For the newer readers, (to save you from scrambling through the blog for this pertinent information,) three of mine biologically and four of Tammy's biologically. We do not use the term 'step' when it involves family. Add to this my time teaching high school students by the score, and proud moments can be few and far between.

A few days ago, my middle daughter, Chasity, told me some news that just warmed my heart. Her oldest child Ian is nearing the threshold of being five years old. She began to tell him about the test required before he could officially turn five. This test contains a sampling of the sum knowledge required to be five years old. It made me proud.

Let's go backward in time to a day when my youngest was about to turn six. This would have been near October, 1993. I told her that she had to pass the six-year-old test in order to turn six. If she did not pass the test, she would be required to remain five for another year. There would be no party and no presents. She was on the verge on believing when she looked at her mother, that last bastion of virtue, that last hope of the young, and she said, and I quote, "He's lying."

Still, Chasity telling Ian about the test was wonderful.

Of course, that was not my only foray into child cruelty via alternative reasoning and parental trust. A few of the favorites that my darling children still reminisce about are:

*Recording tornado warning during the tornado season and then playing them arbitrarily to watch them scurry about wanting to turn the couch over and get under it.

*Taking the dogs to get rabies shots at the fire station and telling the kids we were ALL getting rabies shots.

*Reaffirming the children's belief that a stream running near the house and behind a hospital indeed was a dumping place for discarded organs and body parts.

*Telling them that the peeled off treads of retreaded semi truck tires littering the highway were actually alligators in disguise awaiting unsuspecting motorists with car trouble and then tapping the gas to feign car trouble.

*Telling Audrey, the oldest and a chatterbox, that she needed to stop talking or she would use up all her words. Further making it more believable by explaining the people that use up all their words lose their voices and those that don't use all their words talk in their sleep.

Of course, all of these were dispelled when a glance at their mom would bring those two words they longed to hear, "He's lying."

My baby, Heather (the six-year-old test skipper) told me a few days ago that she needed a TV. Her roommate owner of the TV moved out and took it with her. She and remaining roommate took a cardboard box and made a TV out of it. they even put the cable box on it and put the wires into the back of it. They made screens which displayed the History Channel with a special on Hitler and one of the TBS or TNT hit CSI programs. As I listened to her tell the story about fooling her older sister by telling her that her TV only got 2 channels, I couldn't help but be proud.

My sense of humor will survive me. A proud moment in the life of a parent.

less ouch !! not completely though !

Wednesday is here. My head has relented in it's passionate pursuit of throbbing incessantly.

Yesterday, I took a few doses of a cold & sinus ibuprofen. No, Kroger, we did not use them for the manufacture of illegal drugs. Last night, my head fooled me. It wasn't hurting hardly at all. I decided to take a dose before going to bed. That, apparently, was all it took to wake the sleeping throb. Shortly after taking it, my head began to pound. Go figure?

Today has been better. I did take it early this morning. The pressure has been much better. I can still tell that it is there but not like before. I feel positively human.

I have been working on other writing projects while confined to not bending, stooping, turning, running, walking, breathing .. or so it seems. I have been trying to organize things, or at least figure out how Vista organizes thing, on this new computer. I have used Vista before on the computers at EKU, but that was limited usage. (Perhaps this is a partial contributor to the pain in my brain.)

Now .. to just organize the things on the desk .. and then the room .. and then the house .. and then the garage .. and then ... WAIT ! I need to stop that before this organizational thing gets completely out of control. Every life needs a little clutter, a little chaos, a little out of place-ness, dont you think so ?

Monday, September 08, 2008


The weekend is over.

It was a busy and painful one. Saturday morning, we went to grandson Christopher's baseball game. There are pics of him at bat and in the outfield on my Flickr. That link is other there on the right. When we were leaving, grandson Kody expressed interest in going home with us. We asked mom and dad and it was a go .. until we got to the truck. Once he was in the TB. he changed his mind. Chella started him back to the grandstands. When Tammy arrived with Cloe walking all the way (she was behind because those little 14 month old legs don't take steps as big as us Grups [old Star Trek reference .. bonus points if you know the episode]) she had granddaughter Kyleigh with her. It seems Kyleigh wanted to stay at Papaw and Tammy's house overnight. She and Chella got in the third seat and giggled as we drove home (Kyleigh - 6, Chella 17.)

Since we didn't have clothes for the overnight stay and the next day church activities, we stopped at the Rescue Mission to buy some clothes for her. For $4 plus tax, Tammy got her a leather skirt, a top, a princess dress, a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and a shirt for Kyle, and three novels. Then it was on to Mt Sterling. we dropped Cloe off and the fun began.

Once we got home, Kyleigh met the BOYS. Samsom was his usual cordial self. polite and non-intrusive. The other two were still in their kennels. (They like to destroy things when left to their own devices .. a combination of curiosity and stupidity.) Lacy was loose and made a fool of herself, barking at Kyleigh. Regardless, it did scare Kyleigh. Then, when the boys got out, Dusty, in his exuberance at seeing a new person, jumped on her, nearly knocking her down and scratching her arm. She was terrified and ready to go home. We called the kids to see what arrangements to make if that did become a necessity. Audrey was in Lexington, shopping at the Fayette Mall with Kaye and Chasity. Apparently, none of them had cell phones with them. We finally got hold of Adam and decided to see if she would stay before either of us trekked out.

She calmed down. she made friends (eventually) with Rocky. Dusty still terrified her. Dusty stayed downstairs and she stayed upstairs. that worked for the most part. Tammy took her with her to do a little more thrift store shopping. She got more princess clothes and a pair of shoes. She was making out like a clothes bandit with Papaw and Tammy.

Then, she had to go to the bathroom. She just couldn't use our bathroom because there were faces on the walls. Tammy collects (among other things) Mardi Gras masks. She wanted to go home so she could go to the bathroom. Tammy took her into the bathroom, showed her the harmlessness of the masks, and all was good again. She would stay, until the next crisis.

About 10ish or so, Kyleigh decided, whle on the phone telling her mom good night that she needed to go home. Dusty had scared her again. She liked all the dogs except the 'bad' one. We explained top her that none of the dogs were 'bad,' Dusty was just excited. I am not one of those 'find an excuse for every behavior' type people, but this was the case here. We talked her into staying. She went to our bed, laid down, and promptly fell asleep.

The night was non-eventful.

I woke up the next morning around 7 as usual. Since Kyleigh was asleep, Dusty slept in our room as usuaul. I was at the desk, checking email, when I heard a noise behind me. Kyleigh had gotten up shortly after I did and was in the chair behine me. Dusty was almost in her lap. She was telling him to get down. She wasnt terrified. She was firm. She was fine with him after she figured out she could boss him around. Typical woman, eh?

We were getting dressed for church, when Tammy got a bit ill, and I had the beginnings of a headache. We decided to forgo church and take Kyleigh home. Kyleigh cried because she did not want to go home. Crimeny. First crying to go home and now crying to go home. I rmember why I like having children in their twenties.

Anyway, we took her home. She was fine. She told her mom and dad that she had fun and wanted to live with me. That was priceless. We took Sam with us on the trip. He loves to ride. Kyleigh wanted to keep him. Kody wanted to keep him. Adam wanted to keep him. Audrey wanted to NOT keep him. Sam left with us.
We went from there to see Chasity, Chris, Ian, and Abby. There are pics of Abby from this visit on my Flickr. Again, the link is over there ~~~~>

What was hillarious, was ... Chris was cutting Ian's hair. He had a spray bottle. Chasity sprayed the mist towrds Sam. He tried to catch it. She adjusted to spray from mist to stream. As she squirted Sam, he lapped the water in the air. VIDEO over there ~~~>

When we left there, my headache had just begun to really throb. By the time we got to Mt Sterling, it was hurting so much that my vision was affected. It feels like a sinus thing. It took Ibuprofen and retied to bed for the most part. I was up and down with it. It would go down in intensity but was still always there. It was there at 11 .. took Ibuprofen. I slept off and on. When I was up this morning at 6ish it was throbbing again. I took Ibuprofen at 7. It went away as far as the apin was concerned, but I could still feel it there. You know, it was like I knew my head was there. I always know my head is there, even if I dont alway suse it, but this was there other knowing it was there. Knowing it was there because ti didnt feel just right. It is noon plus now, and the throbbing is there. Not as painful, but throbbing right between my eyes and just over.

We are going out later and will get some cold and sinus headache stuff, we will see if that will fix it. Right now, it is mostly ok, except if i lean back in my chair and lean my head back, it begins to hurt in the center, at the hair line. OK .. not going to do that again .. OUCH !

Hope everyone else had a good weekend. Mine was great. I got to see all my kids except Chris.

Friday, September 05, 2008

The beast is tamed

Raymi has done her magic.

As to the self esteem issues for the girl who didnt get to cut my hair, when I tipped Raymi, I added a tip for the girl that lost the cut as well. I did want her to know I appreciated her giving up a cut. See, I ain't such a bad guy after all.

It's just a haircut .. right ?

There is a scariness that is my hair. It threatens to take over the world. For all my "I'll scratch myself where ever I want where ever I am" manliness, I am quite picky about my hair. Most guys will stop on the fly and grab a cheap haircut. While, I am all about the cheap, it is not to the point of sacrificing my hair to the cheap gods.

The girl that cut my hair when I was in my 40's swore I was not losing my hair. I was gaining hair. She said it was the thickest, fasting growing hair she had ever cut. Finding the right barber was essential. You just cant turn an amateur loose with this monster.

A year or so ago, my regular hair cutter (I don't think she likes to be considered a barber) went AWOL. She disappeared. My hair was in one of it's regular dominance moods and needed to be tamed. We were at Walmart when I decided enough was enough. I marched it into the stylist center there and put it in the hands of a complete stranger (well, I assume she was complete. I didn't do any inventory.)

When I left there I had three choices. 1.) I could shave my head and start over. 2.) I could hold my head at a weird angle all the time to try to make the haircut look slightly more normal. 3) I could put up with this lopsided deranged cut until it grew out enough to try to fix. (There are no pictures of this time as I shunned the paparazzi during this sad time.)

Tammy ran into Raymi (My God sent scissor cutting hair stylist) at a store and found out that she was back at the old salon where she had cut my hair several times before. Joyous days had returned. When I went in to see her, she was aghast. She wanted to find the wench that did this to me and punch her in the nose. she worked diligently with her scissors and managed to fix most of the damage. The lopsidedness of the cut was extreme. A couple more cuts and I was fixed. Life was riding on the good train once more.

Fast forward to a month ago approximately. It was haircut time again. I called the salon to schedule a time when Raymi could do her magic once again. The news was catastrophic. Raymi had disappeared. Her cell phone was off. No one knew where to find her. What would I do?

My nephew and his wife own the Planet Salon and Spa (2 locations in Lexington) and will give me free or reduced haircuts. That is great and I do appreciate it. However, Lexington is a 70 mile round trip or $15 in gas and about 90 minutes travel time. Raymi was $1.60 in gas and 10 minutes drive time.

A month or better passes. there is no word. The search parties and dogs have had no luck (kidding.) Yesterday, I decided I had to take the plunge and try a new stylist. As i sat down in the chair, I told the young lady that Raymi usually cuts my hair. she told me the Rayme was back. (Oh Happy Day .. I could hear a chorale begin to sing.) She was going to be there the next day from 1 until 7. I, very politely, excused myself from her chair. (Tammy says, Yes, I was polite as I was running for the door.) I apologized for any self esteem issues this might bring up. I told them I would be back tomorrow.

Today at 1, I will got to the salon and get a Raymi scissor cut.

The before mentioned, unruly, dominating, unrelenting hair is pictured below. It doesnt usually look that messy. That was this morning first thing out of the bed.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

poste el número dos

Here is number two .. A dear friend just found out her and hubby were disqualified to adopt based on the length of their marriage. This was over 6 months into the process after many tests, a ton of paperwork, and some considerable expense. She said, and I quote, "I feel as though my heart has been ripped out of my chest, and the baby ripped out of my arms, before I even met her." I wrote this for them .. We love you Red and Steve ..

What my heart doesn’t know

My heart knows
The touch of love
It has been familiar with it my entire life
My heart knows
The feeling of loving
It fills and flows with each friend I gain
My heart knows
The warmth of friendship
Every friend adding to the fervent heat
My heart knows
The joy of caring
From both sides of that wonderful fence
My heart knows
The ecstasy of trust
It is all consuming to possess it
My heart knows
The feel of genuine
Far different from the tinny sound of fake
My heart knows
The capacity of fullness
It has felt that fullness time and time again
My heart knows
The sorrow of breaking
It is just a fact of life that it will happen
My heart knows
Some of these daily
Some of these occasionally
And some of these too often

What my heart doesn’t know
Is how to put all of those
Into different neat little categories
What my heart doesn’t know
Is how to feel one
And not to feel them all
What my heart doesn’t know
Is how not to let the sorrow of breaking
Mix in with the joy of caring
What my heart doesn’t know
Is how to stop feeling
When the feeling isn’t what I wanted
What my heart doesn’t know
Is how I will survive
The next break, and the next, and the next
As it is a fact of life, it will happen

What my heart doesn’t know
Is from where the strength will come
To face all my tomorrows

What my heart knows
Is that it will come
And we will stand
And face all our tomorrows

Ron Simpson Jr.
September 3, 2008

poste el número uno

I have two posts to post .. I dont want to post them together as they are completely unrelated .. so here is number one
Qualified ?

He began his political career with an unsuccessful run for the Illinois General Assembly.

He ran a small store for a short time before he decided to run for the Illinois State Legislature. He served four terms in the Illinois House Of Representatives. He was elected to a tern in the US House of Representatives. he was neither powerful nor influential. He criticized the Presidents choice to go into a war for his own 'military glory'. He spoke out against the war stating, "God of Heaven has forgotten to defend the weak and innocent, and permitted the strong band of murderers and demons from hell to kill men, women, and children, and lay waste and pillage the land of the just." The effects of his speech was so damaging that he decided not to run for re-election.

The new administration offered him a position far away from any real political decisions that would effectively end his political career. He decided to decline said offer.

While working in his law practice, he gave a memorable speech, attracting the eye of the Republican Party. He made speeches and participated in debates. Several years later, the Republican Party chose this untested, little qualified man to be the Parties choice to run for president. He won with 39.9% of the votes. the Democratic candidate received 18.1% of the vote. The candidate for the Constitutional Union Party received 12.5% of the vote. Abraham Lincoln had been elected as our 16th President. He was untested, unproven, and unqualified.

Article Two of the Constitution sets the principal qualifications to be eligible for election as President. A Presidential candidate must:

be a natural born citizen of the United States;

be at least thirty-five years old;

have been a permanent resident in the United States for at least fourteen years.

Woodrow Wilson was a one term Governor before he was elected President. Many of our powerful and influential president came into the job ill prepared and under qualified in the eyes of their opponents and even in the eyes of history.

No one talks about the early failures of Abrahan Lincoln. No one talks about how improbable it was that he would occupy the place in our counties history that he holds. In the darkest of times for our nation, he was the man for the job. You couldn't tell it from the other side of his presidency.

We can banter back and forth how qualified or unqualified Barak Obama seems. We can toss the question out about Sarah Palin. It cannot be the deciding factor in our decision. We must also learn to separate the facts from the rumors. I cannot count the emails I have received with misleading and misguiding information. This tactic has been around for centuries in these elections.

This is the age of information. in a time when we should be better educated about those we choose for our leaders, still people spout the rumor/lie as the truth. with two clicks of a mouse and a bit of typing, I have been able to check up on all the damaging rumors about either candidate. Still, the emails persist. Still the doctrine of misinforming the American public prevails.

I am not saying that Barak Obama is the next Abraham Lincoln. He may be. He may be more significant in history.

In these times, Abraham Lincoln would never make it out of the primaries.

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

I ate my cake. Where is my cake ?

WARNING ... Political ... The views expressed here do reflect the opinions of management .. I am Ron Simpson, and I approve this message !

There is an old saying about having your cake and eating it too. You cant have it both ways. Casting party affiliation aside, (I am a conservative Democrat, by the way.. this is here on purpose,) I want to look at some current issues being discussed in the news. I fully realize I am inviting the scorn and rebuke of those that disagree. So be it.

The RNC is highly touting Palin’s daughter for her choice to keep her baby. I agree. I disagree with abortion. I also disagree with my tax dollars paying for it, as I am morally opposed to it. However, and here is the sticky wicket, I am also opposed to back door butchers killing kids because abortion is illegal. We will never stop abortion. All of my morality will never prevent a scared teenager, pregnant and confused, from finding a friend that knows someone, that knows someone, that can take care of the problem, even if abortion is illegal. (I haven’t forgotten the cake.)

The high road traveled by the conservatives is their biblical imperative against murder.

Paul, in his letter to the church at Rome, addressed certain Jews that were refusing to fellowship certain Gentiles in the same church, because they had not submitted to the ritual of circumcision. Circumcision was a tenet of the Law of Moses. The Bible states that Jesus fulfilled the Law and it was complete. Where the Law was lacking in that it provided no help in obeying it other than the consequence of disobeying (which every parent uses as well,) Jesus provided with his sacrifice and coming Comforter giving the believer added strength and grace to measure up. These Jews wanted these Gentiles to enter into the tenets of the finished law. Paul stated to them, that if they wanted to abide by the law, they had to abide by the whole law and would die under the law. He basically told them that they did not have the option to pick and choose which rites and rituals, which laws and tenets, they were going to obey. It was an all or nothing deal.

Back to 2008:

We want to praise this unwed mother to be for her decision to not have an abortion. If we will use our biblical imperative as our stage from which to shout this praise, we must also stand on the biblical words about fornication (sex outside the bounds of marriage.) So, in one breath we must praise her. In the other breath we must admonish her. You cannot pick and choose which passage in the Bible you want to recognize.

Wait, wait, wait. Doesn’t the Bible tell us we are to forgive our brother? Why yes, it does. It tells us that we are not to forgive them once, not twice, not even seven times, but Seventy times seven (the words of Jesus.) So we can forgive her the indiscretion of sex outside marriage. Yes, we can.

However, does that forgiveness only extend to her? Does the forgiveness not extend to those that, for whatever reason, choose to abort their baby? Does the Bible tell us to forgive the fornicators, but not the abortionists? Does it say it is OK to forgive the adulterer, but only if that adultery does not involve homosexuality? Are we to pick and choose who and what we forgive?

A mob grew angry against Jesus when he healed a man of palsy and forgave his sins. They cast their claims of blasphemy against him. He asked them which was easier to say, be healed or be forgiven?

You want to heal this land ? Start by practicing forgiveness.

This is not a Republican or Democratic issue. This is a bipartisan issue. It will not be resolved by passing laws. Look at our jails. We keep them filled. Every law written has not stopped crime. I am not an idiot. I know we cannot wholesale abandon law. It is necessary. There must be a standard and accountability. However, we cannot eat our cake and wonder why we don’t have it.

If we want forgiveness, we must offer forgiveness. (Yeah, there is a passage and parable for that too.)

Before we can reach across an issue to attempt any realistic healing, we must first accept the validity of our opponents stand or, at the very least, the validity of their right to have it. We are a nation of diverse cultures. We sprang up because a rag tag group of separatists were tired of the oppressive rule of the Church of England. Three hundred eighty-eight year later and we have become that which we opposed. Tyrannically trying to bully our citizenry, not with fly-by-night troops and religious torturing, but by our bully platform.

On the View, (a show I do not watch for no real reason other than it does not appeal to me,) Hasselbeck decried the liberal left-wingers that look down on Palin’s daughter for making this choice. Whoopi chimed in that they had done the same thing, on that stage, to Brittney Spears sister. She stated, “We judged her, we did it. We, Americans did it. It is not a liberal or conservative thing.” (paraphrased)

We have become the cake eating cake mongers of our time. Democrats, Republicans, Indepenents, Green Party Members, and any other unmentioned political party of our country.

I ate my cake. Where is my cake?