Wednesday, February 1, 2017

I really don't like talking on FaceTime.

Dear Eldest Daughter,

This morning I picked at a piece of pecan pie.  I never liked the taste of that growing up.  I didn't grow to like pecan pie until my pregancy with you.   I was working out daily at the spa and I would comfort my palate after a workout and before picking up your father, with a small square of pecan pie that was about 2 inches by 2 inches.  I ended up losing a tooth shortly after that, no small part because the combo of pecan pie and ice chewing destroyed my molars, nearly entirely.  As I taste this delightful delicacy which causes me much reminiscing,  I write missing you.

     I miss you much!  Especially when we are discussing politics.  Your salient and observant comments are a wonderful prod to me, as I pray for our nation.
    Not because your brothers are so private and of few words in their discussions, but because there is detail and candor and ownership in your expressions.  I don't doubt that they love this country, but their perspective is so tainted by public education.
      You really love this country that we live in.   I love it, too.  I am often desirous of starting new someplace else, with the conflicts that come up from time to time.  Not you, you give it your complete heart's love.  God has called us to pray for our nation and to be what we can to make it better, is what I learn when we talk.
    Thank you for giving me a hope that God is more committed to creating a more perfect union than we are to believe in what we say.
   Keep the new Justice nominee in your prayers, please.   I pray that his faith will not fail him as he concentrates on a segment of our government that makes such a difference and as he is held accountable for carrying through on his commitments to his conscience as well as his governing or deciding.   God give him peace and hope that his decisions will be a God glorifying balance to the court.  God grant wisdom to the Senate and Congress as they show maturity in their decision making, as well.
    Come home soon, so we can talk and pray together.  I promise to eat something more nutritious later on in the day;)
                                                    Love, Your Mother

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Title- The Studious One!

Title-  The Studious One!
artwork by Elyse

Of biscuits and syrup

Of biscuits and syrup
tasty treats

Happy Saturday!

Happy Saturday!
a day at the Raptor Center.

Widdle Emmie in outer space school

Emmie jumped on the bus and off it flew out into the atmosphere. There was a set of clouds with turbulence right above the house and it took a few minutes for my Emmie to buckle her seatbelt. They hit the bump hard and it knocked my Emmie out of her seat and she bumped her head. The video camera came on and the monitor looked through and stated, Ms. Emmie, where are you? You are not in your seat. Where are you? I am alright I fell because I hadn’t buckled correctly. Well jump up Emmie we have a long way to go and you have to be buckled there is entirely too much turbulence in the stratosphere for you to unbuckle now. As soon as we are through this weather system there will be straight sailing but right now you must buckle. Emmie scrambled into the seat with intensity and purpose now. She watched every cloud pass her window and her nose was pressed to the window trying to see the top of the house as it drifted slowly out of sight. Soon they were not only out of sight of the house, the sun came out brightly and just as quickly they were putting on the atmospherical breathing apparatus and the outerspherical lights. The ABA and the OL. These precautions were to make them appear to be satellites to the radar as they were out in the ionosphere. Emmie knew all about this now. She had gone to the orientation and had a good breakfast and it took them 20 minutes for her to get out past the atmospherical pull and to feel the zero gravity. It would be 15 minutes before the gravity simulators would take effect, a glitch in the system which was being worked on. Until then, they enjoyed the couple of minutes of floatation, while being connected to the seats by belt. The first thing they saw everyday was the strataflotsam. The items which had been dumped into the atmosphere by earlier generations. What would their generation do about this ecological waste area that remained floating above their heads? This was a question for the generations. For now it was the area that they had to guide through on the way to school.

Midnight at the OASIS

Midnight at the OASIS
Sunset in Huntersville

My little Emmie

ran to the bus on the first day of the last year of school. 2 buns on the side of her head. She kissed me and ran at dawn to the bus. She was starting the adventure of a lifetime. I would never see that little girl again, she was going to woman school!

My Father and I 1989

My Father and I 1989

to the tune of Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme


Are you going to Mary Immaculate?

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

Remember me to the one who lived there,

He once was a true love of mine,

Tell him to buy me an acre of land,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

Between the muddy Hudson in Jamaica Bay,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine,

Tell him to sow in it seeds of pure cream,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

And build Ice cream mountains and buildings of whipped cream,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine,

Tell him to reap them with sickles of M&M’s,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

And chew bubble gum and eat till we’re done,

Then, He’ll be a true love of mine.

Tell him to run it off down the motor parkway,

Apricots, Chocolate Cherries and Pie,

After your done 50 pushups

and jog down the West Side Highway,

Then he’ll be a true love of mine…

(Don’t wait for me today dad, The kids are sick again, My tummy’s bulging again, My heart is aching again, And now there’s no love there…)

He once was, a true love of mine….So, Girls, I do beg you don't miss your Daddy,Apricots, Chocolate cherries and Pie,You have one short chance to see him on this side, Go visit him and let your light shine.