Well I don’t have to remind you that we’re almost into a brand, new year. I hope this last year has been a good one for you. I hope you’ve stayed healthy. I hope your dreams have come true. I hope you’ve taken the time to tell your family and friends how much you love them. As for those of you who read this blog on a regular basis, thank you for your friendship. A few of you I’ve never even met face to face … only exchanged pictures. But I count you as friends just the same.

May the year 2006 be a year of peace and goodwill to all!

… Mr. & Mrs. Smith …

(No! Not Brad and Angelina!) It’s Courtney and Josh! They’re getting married tomorrow afternoon. Josh ships out to Iraq in January. And Josh’s last name just happens to be Smith.)

I know there are some out there who will say 18 years old is too young to be in love and get married. But think back in history of how so many young men and women married before the men went off to war … they were young also. And a lot of married folks who got married at a young age are now celebrating 50 and even 60 years of marriage … my sister and brother in law, as one example.

Best wishes, Courtney and Joshua. May God bless you both!

We visited my mother at the nursing home yesterday (Christmas Day). It was one of her “better” days mentally. Here’s a picture of her:

And here’s a picture of me, Mike, Chase and Erica taken in front of the Christmas Tree at the nursing home:

Hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas. May 2006 bring us peace and goodwill to all.

http://198.30.217.62/

Click on the link above (or copy and paste it in the url address). This Christmas greeting was sent to me by a friend and I wanted to share it with you also.

Merry Christmas to you and yours!

(Does that make sense?? Christmas Eve Eve??) Well anyway, yesterday (Friday) was the eve of Christmas Eve and I didn’t have to work so I drove to Longview to pick up Chase and bring him back down here for Christmas family time. His new car isn’t going to be in until sometime next week so that’s why I had to go get him. But I’m getting ahead of myself in my storytelling, so let me go back to the beginning …

Thursday night, Erica and all her girlfriends were over at the house to do their gift exchange. She had to drive Kristin and Krystle home and asked if she could use my car since hers was low on gas. Plus her gas gauge is broken so it’s kinda hard to judge exactly how much she has left in her tank. So I told her my Mustang was low on gas, too, but she was welcome to take it as long as she left me enough to get to the gas station on Friday morning before I headed to Longview. And therewith begins my story …

So I get up Friday morning and around 8:15 I get in the Stang and head for the gas station. And you guessed it. I run out of gas about a mile from the station. So I pulled the car over to the far side of the road and about that time a police car came by. I flagged him down and he stopped. I told him I was out of gas and he asked me if I had someone I could call to come get me. So I told him I had tried calling my daughter’s cell … but, of course, at 8:15 in the morning, Erica was sleeping!! and it went to her voicemail … so I tried the home number hoping the phone would wake her up. Nada. I also hoped Mike’s mother (who lives with us) might hear it ring and pick it up. Nope. Each time I called, I got the answering machine and I’m BEGGING … pleading would “someone please pick up the phone! I’m stranded and need help!” but nobody heard me. Because you see, in my garage is this little gas can thingy that I was hoping Erica would bring to me so I could put a gallon of gas in my car to get on down to the station. But noooo … it was not to be!

So the nice officer gave me a ride to the gas station. He let me ride up front with him which was kinda fun although I thought it would have been neat to ride in the back like I was a criminal or something. But anyway, I get in the police car and attempt to buckle my seatbelt. I don’t know about other states, but in Texas it’s a law that you buckle up in the front seat. But wouldn’t ya know it? The dad-gum seatbelt wasn’t cooperating! I looked at the officer and said “this thing doesn’t seem to want to latch into it’s place so I hope you realize I’m doing everything I can to comply with the law since I’m holding it across my body.” And he replied, “Hey … we’re already in a police car. Who’s gonna pull us over?” Which I thought was a really good way of looking at the situation.

So we get to the gas station and I had to buy an “approved” container to put my gas in … which cost me $6.00!! (Do you realize that’s 2 gallons of precious gas!?) Then I put the GALLON of gas it held in it and as I was putting in on the back floorboard of the police car, some spilled out. “Oops!” I said, “I’m sorry some spilled. Now your car is going to smell like gasoline for the rest of the day.” To which he replied, “It’ll still smell better than some of the weirdos I have to put back there! Don’t worry about it.”

On the way back to my car, we chat. I ask him how his Christmas shopping is going, is he finished, blah blah blah. He says it’s all cool but he’s not looking forward to spending Christmas Day at his parents house since he’s not on good terms with them because they don’t like his wife. And of course, he’s going to side with his wife, which is the right thing to do … or even if it wasn’t, do you think I’m gonna tell him that? Ha! Nope! So I told him I was sure it would work out and that he was doing the “right” thing by at least making an effort. “It shows who’s the bigger person” I told him. Then about that time we pass a car that’s doing 70 mph … the speed limit at this point is 35 mph. “Wow!” he says, “that guy was doing 70! That would’ve been a good ticket to write.” I suggested I was willing for him to turn around and chase the guy down … I’d be more than happy to wait while he did it … but he said we’d better get to my car so I could be on my way. And once we got to my car, he helped me put the gas in the tank and waited to make sure it would start. Once it did, we waved goodbye and left. BUT … that’s not the end of the story. Aha!

I guess it was just my day for law enforcement meetings because on the way back to La Porte from Longview, we stopped in Lufkin to get gas and potty. I turned out onto the highway and made an illegal left turn … basically a U-turn … (Yes, there were signs posted! So what?) And wouldn’t ya know it … a State Trooper sees me do it and comes after me. Oh … did I mention that HE had to do an illegal left turn to get to me? Well I guess that doesn’t matter … anyway, I pull over to the side of the road and he asked me if I realized I made an illegal left turn. I told him I realized it after I had already turned … which wasn’t totally true but it sounded like a good story to me and I was sticking to it. But he ended up writing me a ticket anyway and in the process he called in my driver’s license # to make sure I wasn’t a wanted criminal or anything and I heard his dispatcher pronounce my last name wrong … she said UL-RICK … and it’s pronounced YOUR-RICK. (People always try to put an “L” in there!) So as I’m signing the ticket receipt I tell him “By the way, your dispatcher pronounced my name wrong. It’s pronounced Your-Rick. It doesn’t have an L in it.” To which he says, “I have a similar problem sometimes …” (by this time I’m looking at his name badge on his shirt and it reads NOE) … “people never can say my last name right either.” So I say, “Oh … is it pronounced NO?” And he says, “Nope. It’s pronounced like NO-EEE.” And that was the end of that. Actually, I think I thanked him for giving me the ticket or something like that, which was probably stupid of me to do, but oh well. My momma taught me to be polite and say “please” and “thank you.” What more can I say?

But we finally arrived in La Porte none the worse for the wear. And today we had our family time with my sister, brother in law, nephew Charlie and his wife Susan, and their 2 kids Dawn and Richard (who are Erica’s age). It was fun and we ate WAY TOO MUCH but what the hey … it’s only once a year, right?

More later …

CORPORATE MEMO

To: All Staff
Date: December 12
Subject: New “Twelve Days of Christmas” Policy

The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced and about other restructuring decisions at the North Pole.

Streamlining is due to the North Pole’s loss of dominance in the season’s gift distribution business. Home shopping TV channels and mail order catalogues have diminished Santa’s market share. He and the Board could not sit idly by and permit further erosion of the profit picture. The reindeer downsizing was made possible through purchase of a late model Japanese sled for the CEO’s annual trip. Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer, who summered at the Harvard Business School, is anticipated. Reduction in the reindeer will also lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has received unfavorable press (gas and solid waste). We’re pleased to inform you that Rudolph’s role will not be disturbed. Tradition still counts for something at the North Pole!

As for further restructuring, today’s global challenges require the North Pole to continue to look for better, more competitive steps. Effective immediately, the following economy measures are to take place in the “Twelve Days of Christmas” music subsidiary:

(1) The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree, which never produced the cash crop forecasted, will be replaced by a plastic hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance;
(2) Two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost effective. In addition, their romance during working hours could not be condoned. The positions are, therefore, eliminated;
(3) The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone loves the French (hah!);
(4) The four calling birds will be replaced by an automated voice mail system, with a call waiting option. An analysis is underway to determine who the birds have been calling, how often and how long they talked;
(5) The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of Directors. Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could have negative implications for institutional investors. Diversification into other precious metals, as well as a mix of T-Bills and pharmaceutical stocks, appear to be in order;
(6) The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer be afforded. It has long been felt that the production rate of one egg per goose per day was an example of the general decline in productivity. Three geese will be let go, and an upgrading in the selection procedure by personnel will assure management that from now on, every goose it gets will be a good one;
(7) The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in better times. The function is primarily decorative. Mechanical swans are on order.
(8) As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under heavy scrutiny by the EEOC. A male/female balance in the workforce is being sought. The more militant maids consider this a dead-end job with no upward mobility. Automation of the process may permit the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring or a-mulching;
(9) Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number. This function will be phased out as these individuals grow older and can no longer do the steps;
(10) Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill. The high cost of Lords, plus the expense of international air travel, prompted the Compensation Committee to suggest replacing this group with ten out-of-work congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat sacrificed, the savings are significant as we expect an oversupply of unemployed congressmen this year;
(11&12) Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple case of the band getting too big. A substitution with a string quartet, a cutback on new music, and no uniforms, will produce savings which will drop right to the bottom line.

Overall we can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people, fowl, animals and related expenses. Though incomplete, studies indicate that stretching deliveries over twelve days is inefficient. If we can drop ship in one day, service levels will be improved. Regarding the lawsuit filed by the attorney’s association seeking expansion to include the legal profession (”thirteen lawyers-a-suing”), a decision is pending. Deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to remain competitive.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

(http://www.oneminuteministries.com)

Dear Santa:

I’ve been a good mom all year. I’ve fed, cleaned, and cuddled my two children on demand, visited the doctor’s office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground and figured out how to attach nine patches onto my daughter’s girl scout sash with staples and a glue gun. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases since I had to write this letter with my son’s red crayon on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I’ll find anymore free time in the next 18 years.

Here are my Christmas wishes: I’d like a pair of legs that don’t ache after a day of chasing kids (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don’t flap in the breeze but are strong enough to carry a screaming toddler out of the candy aisle in the grocery store. I’d also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy. If you’re hauling big ticket items this year, I’d like a car with fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn’t broadcast any programs containing talking animals, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use a talking daughter doll that says, “Yes, Mommy” to boost my parental confidence, along with one potty-trained toddler, two kids who don’t fight, and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting, “Don’t eat in the living room” and “Take your hands off your brother,” because my voice seems to be just out of my children’s hearing range and can only be heard by the dog. And please don’t forget the Playdoh Travel Pack, the hottest stocking stuffer this year for mothers of preschoolers. It comes in three fluorescent colors and is guaranteed to crumble on any carpet making the In-laws’ house seem just like mine. If it’s too late to find any of these products, I’d settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.

If you don’t mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if yu could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family; or if my toddler didn’t look so cute sneaking downstairs to eat contraband ice cream in his pajamas at midnight.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney and come in and dry off by the fire so you don’t catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table, but don’t eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours Always,
Mom

PS : One more thing…you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.

I have a bad cold … oh joy. What a wonderful time of the year to get sick. I came home from work, took a nice big dose of NyQuil, put on my jammies, and sacked out on the couch. I’m feeling a little better now and I hope it continues.

This is a Christmas tree.
It is not a Hanukkah bush.
It is not an Allah plant.
It is not a Holiday hedge.
It is a Christmas tree.

I celebrate CHRISTmas because it is a celebration of the birth of Jesus CHRIST. If this offends you, deal with it, because I am tired of people telling me I have to be politically correct. I am tired of people telling me I have to be tolerant of everyone else while they are not tolerant of my beliefs. I am merely exercising my right to freedom of speech and last time I checked, we are all entitled to do that.

Now that I’m off my soap-box … Merry CHRISTmas everyone!

Twas the night before Christmas. He lived all alone
In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
And to see just who in this home did live.

I looked all about, a strange sight I did see.
No tinsel, no presents …not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand.
On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.

With medals and badges and awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different. It was dark and dreary.
I had found the home of a soldier … once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping … silent, alone.
Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder …
Not how I pictured a United States soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I’d just read?
Curled up on a poncho, with the floor for a bed?
I realized the families that I saw this night
Owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.

Soon ‘round the world the children would play
And grown ups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year
Because of the soldiers like the one lying here.

I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone
On a cold Christmas eve in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye
And I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice.
“Santa, don’t cry. This life is my choice!
I fight for freedom. I don’t ask for more.
My life is my God, my country, my Corps.”

The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep.
I couldn’t control it and continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours … so silent, so still.
And we both shivered from the cold night’s chill.

I didn’t want to leave on that cold, dark night …
This guardian of honor so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, “Carry on, Santa. It’s Christmas day. All is secure.”

One look at my watch and I knew he was right.
“Merry Christmas my friend and to all a good night.”

I have to post some more pictures of Mocha that Chase sent me the other night. She got to spend a half day at the office with him not too long ago and there’s one picture in this group that shows her with a “bracelet” around her neck as a collar. Ha!

This is the office picture … she enjoyed her visit with the secretary that afternoon!

“I think I can get past this barrier …”

“Ugg … let … me … ugg … gotta climb …. ugg …”

This is livin’ … oh yeah!

Oops! My dad caught me with his shoe string in my mouth … “Uh, really dad, I can explain … you see? It’s these annoying little baby kitty cat teeth … uh …”

“What?”

“Oh yeah, I know I’m cute!”

If you’re interested in seeing more pictures of my “grandcat” Mocha, go to Chase’s website:

kc5mpk.com

(He has 10 pages in the “Pictures” section!)

This is Mocha … my son’s “first child” and my “first grandcat.”

Got this from my hubby the other day. For any of you out there who are sick and tired of getting all those emails that tell you that you MUST forward the email to gillions of people or you’ll have bad luck, etc etc etc … well, this will make you laugh. (I especially like the one where the “burning bush” is referenced!)

http://www.softlab.ece.ntua.gr/~sivann/pub/swf/may02-smilepop-soapbox4.swf

A man and his wife were sitting in the living room and he said to her:

“Just so you know, I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle. If that ever happens, just pull the plug.”

His wife got up, unplugged the TV, and threw out all his beer.

A priest was being honored at his retirement dinner after 25 years in the parish. A leading local politician and member of the congregation was chosen to make the presentation and give a little speech at the dinner. He was delayed, so the priest decided to say his own few words while they waited.

“I got my first impression of the parish from the first confession I heard here. I thought I had been assigned to a terrible place. The very first person who entered my confessional told me he had stolen a television set and, when stopped by the police, had almost murdered the officer. He had stolen money from his parents, embezzled from his place of business, had an affair with his boss’s wife, taken illegal drugs, and gave VD to his sister. I was appalled.

But as the days went on, I knew that my people were not all like that and I had, indeed, come to a fine parish full of good and loving people.”

Just as the priest finished his talk, the politician arrived full of apologies at being late. He immediately began to make the presentation and give his talk.

“I’ll never forget the first day our parish priest arrived,” said the politician. “In fact, I had the honor of being the first one to go to him in confession.”

Moral of the Story: DON’T EVER BE LATE

Whew! Long day today! Very emotional day today! Lots of “butt” time sitting in the car today! Glad to be back home.

It’s soap box time again. I’m going to talk about CHRISTmas. I get really tired of society trying to make people like me feel guilty if I say “Merry Christmas.” Society wants me to say “Season’s Greetings” or “Happy Holidays.” Keep it non-threatening and generic, I guess. They tell me its because I need to respect other people’s beliefs or non-beliefs. But they’re not respecting MY beliefs when they tell me I can’t say “Merry Christmas”! I have a good friend who is Jewish and even though he doesn’t believe in CHRISTmas, he doesn’t get offended by all the Christmas hullabaloo. And while we’re on the subject, I’m not African-American either but I sit through an entire month called Black History Month. I don’t mind that … don’t get me wrong and think I’m being prejudiced here! But where, I ask, is the fairness in all this?

And by the way … when you tell someone “Happy Holidays” did you know you’re really telling them “Happy Holy Day“? You see, the word “holiday” really means “holy day.” But throughout the course of history, society has changed that to try to take away its true meaning so as not to offend.

My faith teaches me that the reason I celebrate CHRISTmas isn’t for all the presents I can get or give. It isn’t for all the beautiful trees I can see decorated. It isn’t for all the beautiful lights and decorations on the houses in my neighborhood. It isn’t to give me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside and peace on earth and love to one another. While those are all good things, that’s not the reason I celebrate Christmas. I celebrate CHRISTmas because I am celebrating the birth of my Savior, Jesus Christ. You don’t have to believe the same way I do … you’re entitled to believe whatever you want or even nothing at all. But please, don’t hinder me from celebrating what I consider to be the most significant event in the history of the universe (other than EASTER … but don’t even get me going there yet!). I’ll save that soap box tirade for another time.

Well another weekend is past … our weather has finally turned cooler again. This morning when we woke up it was 84 degrees. But the temps are dropping this evening. It’s supposed to get down around 35 degrees by Monday night. Such is life along the Texas Gulf Coast. Actually, we have a saying here that goes: “If you don’t like the weather, stick around a day or two … it’ll change.” Of course, that doesn’t apply to the summer months unless you call going from 93 degrees to 99 degrees a change.

Tomorrow Mike and I will make a flying trip to Austin for a family funeral. It will be an especially sad event … not that any funeral is a good event … but this one will be of particular sadness due to the circumstances. So remember our family tomorrow if you think about us.

On a different note, did I tell you that my work schedule has changed? I share my job with 2 other ladies and one of them had surgery early last week so Kathy and I are picking up the slack. Until the first of the year I will no longer have Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off. Now I’ll only have Monday. Then I’ll work half-days on Tuesday through Thursday and end it with an full day on Friday. I don’t mind the extra hours, especially at this time of year. The extra money will come in handy. And I know the other lady who had the surgery is happy that it’s over. Hopefully she’ll start feeling much better before long. When she comes back to work in January she’ll feel like a new woman.

Check in sometime this week and let me know how everybody is doing.

Well another week is over and not a minute too soon, I’m tellin’ ya. I’m glad to see it over and done with. It’s been an emotional roller coaster ride for our family since the wee hours Monday morning and that’s all the detail I’m going to give about it. So I am really happy to see this week over!

Changing the subject … I have about half of my Christmas shopping done. I guess that’s better than nothing. I asked hubby what he wanted for Christmas and he told me he found something for his hobby (Ham radio) and ordered it online. So that will be my gift to him, even though he paid for it. (Works for me!) I asked for a digital camera so I can stop being at the mercy of Mike and others when I want to take pictures and post them here in the Whine Bar. I hope that’s what is in that package under the tree that has my name on it.