still in da grip of da code

here I am, still fighting with this cold. I hate colds. Did I mention that I hate colds. I did get up earlier and worked on the bible study for my other blog. I completed it and set it to post on Wednesday. Then I crawled back into the security of my water bed. My sweet warm cozy water bed loves me. I woke up short ago with that urgency that took me to the bathroom. Got to replace fluids. Got to take more drugs. Yipee.

So, I am going to cheat a little bit here. I am going to post a poem of mine that may or may not have ever been on my blog. If the date is farther back than August 2004, then I can safely say it has not been. Hope you enjoy. Forgive my disease induced laziness.

Ah, found one. This is a collection of short poems I wrote for Tammy while I was working on the road. I was staying in Madison, Indiana and working on the Clifty Creek Power Plant. For six weeks (or thereabouts) I wrote her a 8 line poem expressing how much I missed her. Here they are for you to enjoy. I call it "The Missing Collection"

The 'Missing' Collection

The sound of the crowd,
Echoes in my ear,
I can hear their revelry,
Their sadness and their cheer,
The joy, well shared,
Is lost, I fear,
Above the noise is the quiet,
The sound of you not being here.
April 18, 2003

I rose early as always,
To greet my new day,
But something was amiss,
As I made my usual way,
It was there behind my voice,
In everything I would say,
The noise that lonely makes,
Whenever you are away.
May 1, 2003

Just one day out,
And the missing has begun,
Still several days,
Before the week is done,
I'll hold you close to heart,
'Til the course is run,
And missing evaporates, like dew,
In the morning sun.
May 7, 2003

Missing the simplest things,
Has my heart beguiled,
A smile full of warmth,
Pure laughter like a child,
The sweetness of her voice,
After familiar numbers are dialed,
Carries my heart to peace,
Where our spirits smiled.
May 8, 2003

I pour myself into work,
Giving all exhaustion will take,
Still at night I lie,
Thinking of you and wide awake,
I try to fill the void,
'Without you' seems to make,
Still no cure I find,
For this missings ache.
May 15, 2003

Missing you,
And the joyous ache it brings
Reminds my heart,
Of the very reason it sings
Why, while we are together,
It soars on gladness wings
Missing tethers me to earth,
With reality strings
May 17, 2003

Ron Simpson, Jr.

At the risk of being an over-poster

I read this news article from France and could not resist posting about it. It is just so .. so .. well, I am not sure what it is .. It smacks of political correctness, but then falls outside by the appeals court ruling. you decide what it is.

Here is the rub: A company in France began selling voodoo dolls of French President Sarkozy. He sought an injunction to stop them from selling them. A lower court did not order the company to stop. Sarkozy appealed the ruling. The Appeals Court ruled that the dolls would remain on sale but with a notice stating that pricking the doll harms his dignity. The courts ruled that the doll was well within the 'right of humor'. Here is a pic of the offending doll:

I hab a code

sniffling, sneezing, eyes watering, nose running, aching, up all night, cold !!

Tammy says (on another note) that I have been partially vindicated. Several years ago, I wrote a blog about the perfect Christmas gift. I will include excerpts from it in the following post:

I have perfected the entire Christmas experience. We (the family & I) were having an in depth discussion about Christmas. Tammy asked me when I wanted to go Christmas shopping. (We have done some preliminary shopping.) I told her, “December 24th.”

Here’s what you do, I explained. You go to the sock aisle at Meijer and walk down the aisle shoveling socks into the buggy. You do want to make sure you hit a few different colors for those that have favorite colors. Let me ask you, sincerely, who can’t use a few new pairs of socks?

What person, rich or poor, married or single, man or woman, can honestly say that they do not have any need for a couple more pairs of socks?

They are the perfect gift. They are universally worn. They are unisex. They come in one size fits all (except Godzilla feet.) They are more than just made for the feet. They had multiple uses. A nice fluffy sock can also be used as a mitt for car washing. They can be a bank for your loose money. Extra socks can be used as mittens when the tide of the snowball fight is going against you and provide the needful protection to allow you to double your output of firepower.

They are enjoyed by young and old alike.

They eliminate the “you gave him more than me” crying, so often heard this time of the year. Everyone gets socks. They are the great equalizer of today’s society. They eliminate the need to shop for days and stand in line for hours after and before fighting maddening crowds on the road and in parking lots. As a gift, socks reduce stress (always a good thing this time of the year.) Think of the hours you can spend with the kids when you don’t have to be out in the weather, out in the traffic, out in the crowd, fighting for an X-box 360.

Not being out in the weather reduces your chances of getting sick.

Not being in traffic reduces your chances of being in an accident.

Not being in a crowded mall or department store reduces your exposure to germs and idiots.

Socks, as a gift, lengthen your life. It is comforting to know, the years you add to your life by avoiding stressful times and places, will be spent enjoying the socks you have accumulated over the years.

Even though the Bible doesn’t mention it (and I hope I am not being sacrilegious here), I am sure one of the wise men, along with the gold, frankincense, myrrh, thought to bring socks. (After all, they were wise!)

So practical. So easy. So thoughtful. So simple. And yet, so overlooked.

The gift that keeps on giving for years to come. Who would have thought, Christmas could be so simplified, as giving and receiving socks.

Keep those Christmas thoughts flowing, and your toes warm. Have a sock today.

Shop early, shop often. Keep a few extra pairs around for unexpected visitors. Your thoughtfulness will be greatly appreciated.

Nothing says ‘I love you’ more than a nice warm pair of socks.

This message brought to you by the Association of Sock Sellers.(Kidding)

The vindication part comes in, in the fact that, all of the kids this year, on their Christmas gift wish list, have included .. you know it .. SOCKS !!

The truth shall set you free !!

Have a socky day.

From the book

I saw something on TV that reminded me of this episode. It is chonicled in my book, "Journey Into Darkness." It talks about Kyle, who was then, 8 years old.

"He asked me, a day, or so ago, if he killed someone accidentally, is that a sin? I asked him if he planned to kill anyone accidentally. He does ask some interesting questions. It is intriguing to see the way his mind works. Those things he cannot figure out, he creates working solutions. The solution may only work in Kyle-realm, but it works.

He has a very active fantasy imagination. He and I are super hero’s that work for a top-secret organization that is responsible for all life on planet Earth. This morning, he told me that he quit his job. He is no longer going to moonlight as a super hero. This is going to cause a gap in the schedule, as I am on vacation during this time as well. I am sure, however, that someone will step into the gap. After all, that is what super hero’s do.

Reading this as I write it, he has decided that he wants his old job back. He called the ‘boss’ and reapplied. Of course, he was rehired on the spot. Sleep easy. The world is safe once more.

How nice it would be if all the problems we have could be solved as easy as an imaginary phone call on a toy cell phone. "

cause and effect

funniest thing ..

Dusty, the 70 pound boxer is lying on our water bed. He is sleeping so soundly. Tammy is reading and I am watching part of a Bond mini marathon on one of the channels. Dusty rolls over and falls off the bed. As he is falling and flailing, his foot hits the pulled shade covering one of the Windows by the bed. It is one of the old style pull down shade types, and when he hits it, it pulls and rolls back up all the way and flap flap flaps.

Lacey, the six pound mini doxie, hears all the commotion. comes out from under the covers, yapping. Dusty, freshly waken, startled already by the shade flapping, hears Lacey raising six kinds of cain, takes off out of the bedroom in dead run. Tammy and I are stunned for a second or two, and then proceed to laugh until we almost cry.

Dusty comes back a minute later and climbs up on the bed, with this sheepish embarrassed look on his face (if dogs can look embarrassed.) He does his HOHO thing (half on/half off,) and looks at us like, "you didnt see that, did you?"

Meanwhile, we are still laughing.

thankful

Looking around, I can see so many things to be thankful about.

I am thankful for the seven children I am involved in raising. I am thankful that I do not agree with everything they do. This means they have developed their own distinct and ,at time, differing opinions.

I am thankful for my growing relationship with TJ. I love her more today than I did yesterday, but not as much as I will love her tomorrow. I am thankful we do not allow our differences and debates to interfere with the basis of who we are and the love we share.

I am thankful for my home. I am thankful for my aches and pains, as they remind me that I am. indeed, still alive. I am thankful for the love of dear friends. I am thankful for a cluttered life. I, too, am thankful for mud puddles, Heather. I am thankful to know a grace full and loving God.

I am thankful for all my friends. I am thankful for the ones I have physically embraced. I am thankful for the ones I have only cybernetically embraced. I am thankful for all my friends in all my categories. (work, community, church, childhood, family .. etc)

I am thankful for my 4 sisters and 1 brother and the army of in-laws and nieces and nephews that surround my life. The immediate family numbers in the 50's.

I am thankful I don't have to remember all the things for which I am thankful. We could be here a long time.

So, here, is to good friends and family. Here, is to short naps after eating too much. Here, is to too much noise in too small a space. Here, is to me, Here, is to you. Here, is to giving thanks.

Happy Thanksgiving !

on the eve of giving thanks

on the eve of giving thanks
one stops, a question to ponder
is thankfulness for a day
or daily, one must wonder

while pausing life for a day
of thanks gives no harm
if only for that day
it must bring alarm

it is every day
day in and day out
that our lives are enriched
by friends, family, and God, no doubt

therefore, of every day's thanks
we save a small part
then, on this special day
we release it from our heart

we sweep it diligently
so, no thanks is left behind
we sweep the cupboards and cabinets
exposing all the thanks we find

it all should come out
on this Thanksgiving day
a joyous celebration
a liberation, in a way

we must make place
for the next years praise
so our blessings may continue
for all of next years days

therefore, I must say thanks
to each and every one of y'all
and do some heart spring cleaning
on this cool day in the fall

happy thanksgiving I wish
and His blessings on you
and may you save some thanks
in everything you do

thanks to you, my friends

My mask

I wear this mask to protect myself
I hide behind it, secretly peering out
Seeing without being seen

I see your world
I write about its defiant depths
I write about its dizzying heights
I write about the width and breadth of it

I am like the child
Trying to feel the thrill of the roller coaster
By standing beside it watching your faces
I can feel the shaking as it rumbles past
But I will never know the cold feel
Of that bar cinched down across my lap

I am your secret admirer
Always watching as you live your life
Trying desperately to feel your passions
But from the safety of my mask
The words behind which I cower

Desire drives me
Fear restrains me
If I could, I would not
If I would, I could not
My hands shake and my palms sweat
And the words cover my angst

I am your stalker
Flowering your world with my prose
Phonetically espousing my mask of love
I have such passion and ardor
Behind this mask of words

Live your life and pay no heed
To the man behind the curtain
As he weaves his words
And creates the next mask
To distract anyone from ever seeing

I wear this mask of words cleverly knit
And no one really knows me
That makes me alone and very afraid
And yet, here I am, creating another mask

This mask wears your face
These eyes see your world
These lips speak your words
This heart feels yours beating
For this one brief intense moment
We are one and the same

For this one moment
I feel the cold metal of the bar
I feel the wind in my face
I feel the roar of the wheels on the track
I feel that inescapable pull
Of Earth’s tender tether

And then I know
For this one moment
This one short powerful moment
As we share your world
We share my pain

And I am not so alone
For a moment

Ron Simpson, Jr.
November 25, 2008

In honor

Tammy's ex passed away nearly a year ago. He passed on November 25th, 2007. Old readers of my blog will remember those posts. Tammy asked me if I could write something for the kids to help them through this difficult anniversary. 2007 was a tough year around here. "C" said, "Everyone in this house lost a father in 2007." My dad went home on March 8th of that year. Tammy's dad passed almost a month later. Then, in November, the kids lost their dad.

Tammy thought it might be hard for me, being as I lost dad so close to all this. I still miss my dad tremendously. That missing, and knowing the kids went into this. I know it is a day early, but here is something in his memory .. for the kids.

You and Me

Time passed
But time stood still
Part of me recognizes
That it has, in fact, been a year
Three hundred sixty-five days
Since you left us unexpectedly
My mind knows it has been that long
Part of me still feels
Like it was just yesterday

No time has passed
In that part of my heart
It froze on that day
Others in my heart continued
While
In that place
Where you live
Time has stopped

There
You still laugh
You still play
You still speak

There
We still walk and talk
We still love

There
We still are
You and me

For C, S, C, and K
On the anniversary of R’s passing
November 25, 2008

Ron Simpson, Jr.

Unscathed

I am not sure which it is
Whether we are flying through life
Whether life is flying past us
Perhaps it is a bit of both
As we move in one direction
And life moves in the opposite
Whichever it is
Our interaction with life
Changes us daily

Like the shoreline
Affected by the waves
Some crashing
Some gentle
Each wave bringing something as it comes
Each wave taking something as it leaves
Each changing that shoreline forever
What was, is no longer
What will be, is not yet

It brings to mind a thoughtless phrase
Of how we come through some things
Unscathed

Every breath in
Every breath out
Brings an unstoppable change
Every word in
Every word out
Changing who I am
Into whom I will be

Writing this changes me
Reading it changes you

We are
Scathed

Ron Simpson, Jr.
November 23, 2008

Out of the ordinary

Today is November 22. Tammy said I was always asking what the date was, so she got me this calendar. As you can see, it has blocks that you change daily. This reminds you of the date (except when you forget to change them for a few days.)

The problem with this is that once my brain becomes accustomed to it being there, it sees it, but doesn't see it. Case in point: Has a friend ever dyed their hair or shaved a beard, and you knew something was different, but couldn't put your finger on what it was. That is because we see things without seeing them. To combat this, I do what you see in the picture. I put the numbers in sideways, or upside down, or sideways reversed, etc. This way my brian registers that something isn't quite right and forces me to take notice. We notice the things out of the ordinary.

That being said, I want to give a shout out to my blogging buddies. Their 'out of the ordinary' senses of humor (or sense of humors) keep me noticing the things around me. I want to thank them for sharing their lives and showing the commonalities and the extra ordinariness of simple life (as if 'simple' and 'life' could ever coexist in the same reality.)

This is not a blog award, per say, but here is to Octamom, Debbie, Whitney, Red, Heather, Peg, Gill, Tricia, and Marilyn for all the laughs and provoking thoughts. Y'all have, at various times, lifted my heart, made me smile, made me laugh out loud, made me cry, inspired me to write, inspired me to believe, and filled my days.

Thanks for the stories that bridge the miles, cross the oceans, and bring your families into my homes. I hope I have done a smidgen of what you have done for me. You are my 'out of the ordinary' friends.

busy snowy day

Kyle got his snow day. At 5:49 AM, I got a text message telling me there was no school in Mongomery County today. He was a happy camper. I, on the other hand, was amazed. There was the barest amount of snow. I looked out my window, and saw the snow had mostly covered the Mustang. About 30 minutes later, I looked again, and it was all gone.

Easy come, easy go.

There was much moving today. Sierra is moving back in with us, very temporarily. Her rental house had no heat. The landlord doesnt like gas, so he takes it out. Then he supplies electric heaters to his tenants. The heaters he provided for Sierra were not doing the job. She is looking for a new heated place. Sigh, now my garage is full.

Snowing

(not what is actually out there)

It is snowing outside (as opposed to snowing inside, I guess) and it is sticking to the ground. Waahooooo! I love snow. I love Winter (as is obvious to my regular readers .. My Warm Friend.) As I said, it isn't like it is in the picture, yet, but it is coming down. I love it! Kyle is hoping for a snow day.

Hey Debbie (suburbsanity) I will get to put the big red truck in 4-wheel drive.

Of course, while I will not be going there, I am sure Kroger is packed with worry-warts making sure they have bread and milk. I am sure there will be a few that will be wishing the new section (wine and liquor) was opened already.

I am not worried, although I did finish off the last of the NUKE DIP today.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful .. but the fire is so delightful .. and since we've nowhere else to go .. let it snow, let it snow, let it snow !

My Friend

You were a stranger
The first time we met
I didn’t know on that day
We were to be friends
We would never forget

We fell in ‘like’
Like a lightning flash
Someone above knowing
This friendship would carry
Through lifes cinder and ash

Although time and distance
Prevent my eyes from seeing your face
Within my heart
You still, and will always
Reside in that special place

Through thick and thin
Within and without
You have been my beacon
My sounding board, my confidante
My friend, without a shadow of doubt

The word may be well overused
And to some has lost its meaning
But nothing thrills my heart
Quite like this word
For sorrow and pains intervening

We are friends
All the live long day
From uncounted days gone by
To the countless tomorrows
This will never sway

You are
Will always be
My friend

Ron Simpson, Jr.
November 19, 2008

just add water .. any water

The recipe for traffic disaster in Kentucky .. just add water .. any water ..

It can be something as treacherous as snow, sleet, or ice. However, it can be as minuscule as fog, drizzle, or misty rain. As long as there is water involved, it changes the whole dynamics of driving around here. Not that it is harder to drive in it, it is just that all the other idiots out there cant drive in it.

I saw a bumper sticker once that said: Why am I the only person on the planet that knows how to drive?

Last night/evening there were some insignificant flurries. There was NO accumulation. Still, the 11 o'clock news reported a sharp increase in the number of traffic accidents. They included everything from minor fender benders to cars being totaled.

It makes me want to stay off the roads completely. Snow cant do that. sleet cant do that. Rain cant do that. Crazy drivers can do it. I will avoid the accident by avoiding the drivers.

Oh yeah, and Kroger (grocery) was packed. A snowflake fell and everyone in a three county radius had to dash to Kroger to stock up on milk and bread. It never fails. Whenever there is snow (or even the forecast of it) Kroger will sell out of bread and milk. I am thinking there are lots of things I could use if i was snowed in for a few days, but bread and milk do not top that list.

So, I will stay home with my chips and dip, and avoid all the dips out there on the road.

Whispering Giants

The Beverly Hill .. er .. Barack Presidency

Come and listen to a story about a man named Barack
A junior Illinois Senator, new around the block,
Then one day he delivered a convention mandate,
And up through the ranks came a viable candidate.
President that is, black man, Charasmatic.

Well the first thing you know ole Barack’s a president,
Kinfolk said Barack is gonna be the new resident
Said the White House is the place we are sending you
So they loaded up the truck and moved the whole crew.
Pennsylvania Ave, that is. Secret Service, Oval Office. - The Obama Presidency!

Well now its time to say good-bye to Barack and all his kin.
And they would like to thank you folks fer kindly droppin' in.
You’re all invited back again to this locality
To have a heapin' helpin' of their hospitality
Presidentially, that is. Set a spell. Take your shoes off. Y’all come back now, y’hear?

based on:
The theme song "The Ballad of Jed Clampett" was written by producer and writer Paul Henning and originally performed by Bluegrass artists Flatt and Scruggs. The song was sung by Jerry Scoggins (backed by Flatt and Scruggs) over the opening and end credits of each episode. It was #44 on the music charts in 1962 and a #1 country hit.

Welcome to my house

In this great house of life
There are rooms for all occasions
There are rooms
Filled with warmth and merriment
Filled neat and orderly
Filled messily and full of clutter
There are rooms with windows
And sunshine streaming gloriously
There are rooms
With great welcoming doors
With friendly viewing panes

And then
There are those rooms
With dark doors
With no windows
Where the unmanageable
Is placed waiting for a time
More convenient for dealing with them
These rooms are seldom visited
They are cold and dark
You know they are there
You know what is inside
Eventually you can walk past the door
And almost not notice

Then the day comes
There is something in that room
Something you have tried not to need
But that day has come
Opening the door is difficult
Stepping inside is like
Stepping into another world
On one side of the threshold
Is bright and warm
On the other side
Is dark and cold
As quick as you can
You rush inside
You do the grab and go
Slamming the door behind

Yes, those are my dark rooms
Guarded by my dark doors
Where my dark times
And dark thoughts reside

Welcome to my house

Ron Simpson, Jr
November 13, 2008

Hot stuff coming through

What a day !

Not to be one to air dirty laundry in public, BUT . . . . .

The cell phones started ringing and dinging early this morning. It seems that Federal Marshals showed up at 5 of 7's door this morning looking for the fiance' that still hadn't made it back to the post. They even had a federal warrant for his arrest. Her cell, which she shares on his plan stopped being able to make or receive calls. She eventually found out, through an army buddy of his, that the marshals finally picked him up at the airport, still in Lexington. How interesting. Her phone started working after she got the word that he was in custody.

All this drama interrupted my cooking. That is where the hot stuff comes in. I made "NUKE DIP" today. What is "NUKE DIP," you ask ? Well, let me share this highly secret recipe (keep it to yourself):

Ingredients:

2 pounds of ground beef

1 pound of hot breakfast sausage

Some diced jalapenos (amount according to your taste)

some diced hot banana peppers (amount according to your taste)

some diced onions (amount .. well, you know)

some diced tomatoes and chilies (Rotell)

some habanero pepper sauce (Dave's Insanity is my choice)
24 oz Hot Pace Picante sauce

3 pounds of Velvetta Cheese

Directions:
Brown the beef and the sausage in the juice of the jalapeno and banana peppers and set aside

Saute' the peppers, onions, tomatoes, and chilies and set aside
Cube the Velvetta Cheese and put in large bowl

Add Picante sauce to bowl
Microwave the cheese and picante mix stirring at every minute interval until it is smooth
Once the cheese picante mix is smooth, stir in the meats

Then stir in the peppers, onions, tomatoes, and chilies

Then add the habenaro sauce a little at a time to adjust the final flavor

Serve hot or cold. Serve with chips, on sandwich, with scrambled eggs, or use as a veggie dip to give it some healthy advantage (this will throw your bodies systems in shock, expecting something healthy via the veggie and themn being overrun by the NUKE!)

This stuff marches on through the body. It is delicious. It get hotter with each bite.

Be careful around others with it. Once they taste it, they will pester you for the rest of your life to make it.

All the ingredients cost about $20. It makes about 7.5 pounds. It fills my 7 quart bowl. It does not eat the plastic of the bowl, either (surprise.)

dazed and confused

You can sum up all the synonyms associated with the two words in the title of this blog in one word: Kids.

I remember being a kid. I remember being a teenager. I remember my 20's, my 30's, and my 40's. I started working when I was 13. My first job was with a semi washing company. They had a steam jenny in a van that heated and pressurized the water. We sprayed the trucks off. My very first real paycheck, I went right out and bought me a wallet. My check was so large, once I bought the wallet, I had no money to put in it. I only worked on Saturdays.

I started as a freshman at the University of Kentucky when I was 17 years old. I got a job with the Tobacco & Health Research Institute as a lab assistant. I ran a machine that 'smoked' 30 cigarettes at a time. It collected the tar in a trap made to simulate the way a lung gathers it. It was a cool job.

I dropped out of college after a year and started working in the electrical union as an apprentice. That was in 1977 and I have worked pretty steady since then. I did my best to pay my bills and meet my obligations. I got married, had kids, and grew up. I have 4 sisters and 1 brother. We weren't poor but we weren't rich either. Dad worked as an electrician and pastored a church.

Nowadays, kids seem to have all different or no priorities at all. To borrow an accounting system from Octamom, 5 of 7's fiance' was in on leave from the Army. While TJ was sitting in the ER with Kyle, I took him to the airport to catch his flight back to base. They waited until about an hour from his flight time to show up at the house for a ride. The airport is 40 miles away. Needless to say, he missed his flight. We were on our way back home when we found out. He talked with the airlines and they gave him a flight at 7 the next morning. He stayed at the airport and slept through the calling of his flight. He caught a ride back to our town.

His mom calls us telling us the base commander had called her claiming he was AWOL. We checked and, sure enough, he was still at 5 of 7's house. He claims that his base commander knew and had arranged for him to catch a flight the next morning at 6. His dad was coming on his way from work (third shift) to pick him up and take him to the airport.

At 11 am, they call us. Apparently the 6 AM flight was moved to 1 PM. They didn't have a ride to the airport. We rushed down and got them and got him to the airport. There was thanks for the ride but no worry about schedule or hurry to make the flight. there was also no offer to pay for gas.

What confuses me is: Where did we lose the idea that things in life cost something. Kids seem to think everything is supposed to be handed to them on a platter with no 'thank you' or consideration necessary?

I taught high school kids for 4 years. The same attitude is prevalent in most kids of this generation. Kids in my classes drove new mustangs, BMW's, big new Dodge trucks. All gifts from a parent or both. If you ask them to do something in class that is not part of their plan, they act as though you kicked their dog. Tasks and assignments are done half way, just enough to get the lowest passing grade.

I told my students: If you do mediocre work in my class you will get a "D" or maybe a "C". If you give half effort out in the real world, your job goes away, your car goes away, your apartment goes away, and your girl/boy friend goes away.

Fiance' seemed so nonchalant about being AWOL. It was as if it was no big deal. I can't remember, but it seems like I recall that if you are AWOL during war time, you are classified a deserter. Oh well, no big deal.

I am dazed and confused

Veterans

I wrote this several years ago after visiting the moving Veitnam Memorial. The sentiment applies to all veterans.

Thanks for all you give and have given to ensure that we are still the land of the free.

One Name On That Wall

they came home in planes
they arrived on America's shores in masses
eternally joined in the brotherhood of war
initiated in the fire of battle
baptized in the blood of fallen comrades
forever friends going separate ways
but .. regardless of the numbers that come home ..
thousands were left on the battlefield
we brought home remains
we brought home memories
we brought home stories
sons
daughters
fathers
brothers
sisters
one lone soldier walks home
Today .. we walk past the memorials
in reverent silence
above it all is the sound of freedom
the sound of freedom isn't the big brass band
it is the sound of a single bugler
it is the weeping of a mother and father
it is the sound of one last breath
the silence lasted a long time
the reverence lasted even longer
all the words I can write or say
pale in comparison
to one name
on that wall

Ron Simpson, Jr.
October 18, 2003

_____________________________________________________________

I wrote this for Independence Day. It fits here as well.

FREEDOM

It has been well said that freedom is never free. It is easy sometimes, born into freedom, to consider it a birthright. We might lose sight of the price, being so far from it. I have never fought on any foreign shore. I have never spilled my blood defending this glorious nation. Far removed from the smoke of the battlefield, it is easy to lose the cries of freedoms battle.

The sound of freedom is not the big brass band. That is the celebration of freedom. The roar of the crowd is not the sound of freedom. That is the triumph of freedom. Summer dogs and burgers are not the taste of freedom. Sparklers and fireworks are not the fire of freedom. They are just the glitter.

The sound of freedom is the last gasp of a soldier. It is the soft sob of a mother clutching the folded flag. The taste of freedom is the acrid mix of gunpowder and blood. The fires of freedom burn in the hearts of men and women, not in the burning metal rods we wave. The band, the roar, the dogs and burgers, the sparklers and the fireworks, are all good if we don't lose sight of the price of freedom.

Sometime in the middle of your reverie, take time to remember. Take time see the flash of freedom. Take time to taste the coppery taste of freedom. Take time to hear the gasp and sob of real freedom.

Find a way to feel free.

I got this today !!

Yes, that does say $1.699

16.426 gallons for $27.91

Just the ending of a day

I am rebuilding my poetry website ... slowly ... I have over 200 poems to add to the new site.

As I was adding this poem, I thought I might share it here.

Just the ending of a day

Each day begins,
Bright and of promise filled,
Like a piece of virgin earth,
Awaiting labor’s hand, to be tilled;
We welcome the new beginning,
And the challenge it brings,
We see its beauty,
As it slowly unfurls golden wings;
Lifting gently,
From its place of birth,
Seeking wisely,
Labor to give it worth;
We rush, we stop,
We charge, we retreat,
We cry for its loss,
And celebrate its marvelous feat;

Quickly or slowly,
As it moves along,
Sometimes welcomed,
Sometimes dreaded,
It is just the ending of a day....

All the days in our lives will end,
Some as we wish, some not,
And we will take into tomorrow,
The things we have wrought;
We look back across,
The days fresh made trail,
To see where we did win,
And where we did fail;
We wonder how much more,
We may have done,
But if our best we gave,
Without remorse,
We face the setting sun;

As the sun sets,
On the horizon of our days,
Somewhere it rises,
Spreading it’s wings and golden rays;
We take the lessons,
Into tomorrow’s great abyss,
Into the bright,
And full of promise;
It is not the finish,
Of a labor fine,
It is not the finish,
Of a life, rich like aged wine,
It is not the finish,
Of a relationship going away,
It is just the ending of a day;

The sun is resting,
To rise again,
And gathering new challenges,
With which to begin;
A labor new,
And love to embrace,
A new beginning,
To another day’s race;
These things, We may only find,
As we let it move away,
And welcome tenderly,
The beginning of a new day.....

Ron Simpson, Jr.
January 1999

It isn't my fault, really

I did have something in mind, but it hadn't worked its way into a written piece. Then Red commented on my blog about the broken gravestone and suggested there might be a poem there. I thought about it and here is what fell out:

The Stone

I stopped today
For a moment
At the gravestone of a stranger
There was no sentiment to impede me
There was no melancholy to distract me
The ground around
Was well maintained
I looked at the simple stone
It was old
The stone was broken through
And resting against its base
It entreated the questions
Of when it was broken
Of who was negligent
Of when this man was forgotten
It entreated the question
When will I be forgotten
My children will live on
And I through them
And the grandkids
One hundred forty years have passed
Since this man was lain to rest
His children rest somewhere
His grandchildren as well
We are four to five generations
Beyond his passing
No one mends his stone
No one visits
Save a stranger
Passing
Without personal connection
To produce the sentiment
To construct the melancholy
There is sadness
If the stone appreciates it
It doesn’t say

Ron Simpson, Jr.
November 8, 2008

Superior Scribbler Award

Peggy graciously gave me the Superior Scribbler Award. I am quite honored to recieve such an award. Thank you so very much. you are too kind. Now, as with most awards, it came with requests. The requests are easy. I am to pass this award along to 5 blogs I feel are deserving of such an honor. I searched and search (looked at my regular reads.) I came up with several.

1. Octamom .. Anyone with 8 kids that still has time to write a coherent blog is worthy of double honor. I love reading her posts. She takes care of the kids and still keeps her regular readers well informed.

2. Heather .. A full plate as well. We are all praying for Asher and thank her for keeping us up to date, as well as entertaining us with stories from home and heart.

3. Debbie .. open and funny .. Debbie keeps my tickle bone tickled

4. Peggy .. not just a return to be a return .. Peggy lives in Australia .. I adore her approach to live and her style of writing about it ..

Like Peggy, I am going to exercise my right to be different and stop there. There are others I read and you can find them in my 'Follows' place over there -->

sniff sniff .. is something in here spoiled?

My honey is back to blogging, thanks in part to her early Christmas present (we will call it that until Christmas when she will be wanting something else.)

Her blog (TroublesHandful) tells how I went out to The Walmart (as my friend RetroGirl say we call it in the south.)The first guy in line was there at 4:00 AM. Okay, I wanted to save 50% on a laptop, but not enough to be in line for 4 hours. I was there just before 8:00 and had the laptop before 9:00. When I left there were still 7 or 8 people in line and they had 3/4 of a pallet load left.

Yes, Debbie (SuburbSanity) I did drive the big red truck.

She claims I spoil her. I am not so sure about that. I mean, I did buy her a house for her birthday two years ago, and a Camaro from Ebay a couple year ago. I do write her mushy love poetry from time to time. Come to think of it, "Sniff sniff" .. there might be something spoiled in here.

She just hit me and said, "Hey, I smell good!"

taking pictures yesterday

I was out a bit yesterday with the cameras. I have been looking for a fall graveyard scene. I have seen it in my mind, but haven't found it out there yet. There is a graveyard in Morehead (35 miles) that I have been told about that might work. It is beside a church. Nice fall folliage. No intrusive powerlines.

However, it is sprinkling outside my window. I might not be able to do it today. Saturday morning is taken with scheduled errands. That is the problem with fall. It moves quickly. One week can make a world of difference. We shall see what we shall see.

playng with my new toy

it is a GPS. It claims that my position (here at the keyboard) is:
Latitude 38° 3' 22" N
Longitude 83° 56' 17" W
960' Above sea level

How cool is that ? (OK .. so the electronic gadget guy in me shows up occasionally)

old memories and empathic invasion

I hurt right back

I hurt
So I hurt right back
I can’t even remember
If I thought about it
If I wanted it
If I meant it
It hurt
So I hurt right back

I started thinking
I started wanting
I started meaning
And I got better
I knew just what to say
I knew just when to say it
I hurt
So I hurt right back

It became my drug
I waited for it
I looked for it
I knew it would come
I needed the rush
I needed the high
I hurt
So I hurt right back

Sharp words
Biting retort
Stinging expressions
It felt so natural
Nothing like
A learned response
I hurt
So I hurt right back

I didn’t know
What it did inside
I became less
Anger became more
The raw
Was the raw within
I hurt
So ..


It stopped
I looked at it
Eye to eye
I was scared
It wore my face
It had my voice
It knew my words
I hurt

I left it there
Railing in the wind
Hurling its venom
Screaming its rage
It could not be
My part anymore
I hurt
So, I walked away

Ron Simpson, Jr.
November 5, 2008

same tree one week apart

Last Wednesday and today

Next

I think I said this recently in a comment to someones blog. Back in 1984, while working on a steel mill in Canton Ohio, I played euchre with several of the other electricians. One of them (not my partner) was a real sore loser. If he and his partner lost a hand, and something was said about that hand during the deal for the next hand, he would huff and say, "That hand is over. Let's get on with this hand."

After last night, there are going to be many people that want to rehash all the old issues of the campaign. To all the armchair politico's, I say, "That hand is over. Let's get on with this hand."

I am not trying to be indifferent. I am not trying to be condescending. I did not agree with everything Barack Obama said. I did not agree with everything John McCain said.

The fact is this: Barack Obama won the election.

Whether you voted for him or not, it is time to put all that pettiness aside. Whether you like him or not, and that is your right, it is time to put that aside. It is time for us, as citizens, to get behind him. It is time for us, as Christians, to get behind him in prayer.

I prefer to think that the man leading our nation is doing so behind the prayerful support of his nation. I am quite sure he will do things I do not agree with. I will pray for him.

Two things struck me as encouraging last night above many other things.

The first was the gracious and eloquent concession speech by John McCain. He stated that he had called Barack Obama to "congratulate him on being elected the next president of the country that we both love."

The second was in Barack Obama's speech. He stated, "But I will always be honest with you about the challenges we face. I will listen to you, especially when we disagree. And, above all, I will ask you to join in the work of remaking this nation, the only way it's been done in America for 221 years — block by block, brick by brick, calloused hand by calloused hand."

With all that is behind us, I look to tomorrow and say, "Next."

election day

The question of music

Today I added that playlist thingie to my blog. I added a few songs that I like. I forgot to check the 'random play' feature, so it always starts with "Live this life." I need to figure out how to change that. The question is this:

Is it irritating to open a blog and be subjected to their choice of music ?

I read many blogs and some have musuc and some do not. It isn't a 'will read' or 'wont read' issue for me. I don't mind the music. If I prefer not to listen at the moment, I can stop it. It is irritating when the playlist player thing is hidden (more often on MySpace.)

What do you think, my regualr readers?

pictures and a busy sunday

We went to church this morning in Flemingsburg and then in the afternoon in Morehead. We left the house about 10ish and returned home around 4ish. It was a good kind of busy.


Here are a few more of the pictures I took on Wednesday:

more shots

Some of the pictures I took on Wednesday

This small pond is in a curve of the road down a hill in a small valley. It is off of a back road off of a back road off of a small highway. It is literally in the middle of nowhere. This is on the exterior of what appears to be a veterans memorial in Powell County. There are several young trees planted outside the wrought iron fence. These two shots are of the same tree and fence combination. The first one is with the fence in focus and the second is with the tree in focus. I thought it was an interesting contrast.

I took about 70 shots. I will post some others here later and many of them on my flickr site. There is a link to it on this blog. It is over there to the right.