Health-(Care), Ellsburg, ~and Woodpeckers? hehehe

Yay!
That's more like it!

Good Morning All;
I have decided that I am going to be very busy today. I am even going to try to mow lawn, *if* I can get that darned (new) belt on. 
(And then *if* I can get *on* the darn thing).  hehehe

Truly, the grass (and weeds) are to the point I cannot stand to even look out the windows anymore.
What the hell difference will it make, honestly, if I fracture a few more vertebra?
Either way, it hurts like shit anyway, so who cares the difference?  Not I.  Not anymore.
 
Besides, then I will be able to at least peek out my windows from time to time, and not just *wish* I had a better view.
(Besides, it is to rain tomorrow and I won't be going out to mow then).


I have been up since about 2:30- And CAB, that darn site just ate my comments and I wasn't about to repeat them.  (I will tell you tho, that  I  happen to like "Son of a Preacher Man").  hehehe


I had the TV on too- As I listened to Daniel Ellsburg  (AKA "The Most Dangerous Man in America") speak about the Pentagon papers that are all open to the public now, I was intrigued by what he had to say about The Vietnam War...

Ellsburg is the man who got his hands on leaked Pentagon papers some 40+ years ago. This morning he said that he had sat on those papers for 2 years after reading them- This was his ONLY regret about reading them- having them in his possession and all, and not doing anything.
 
Ellsburg also said, "...that made me believe that what I was involved in, in Vietnam, was NOT a noble cause that had gone wrong."
Why is he just now saying this?

Furthermore people, don't you see what the Republicans are going to try to do to the HealthCare we fought so hard for?
They will be having those same regrets in another 40 years- And that THEY WILL BE SINGLEHANDEDLY RESPONSIBLE FOR KILLING EVEN MORE AMERICANS than the Vietnam War that Ellsburg "regrets" today.
(Why am I not surprised)?

To quote Jefferson Adams of the San Fracisco Examiner, (and from 2 years ago),
"Every two years, 1,700 American children die from lack of healthcare. That's the equivalent of a World Trade Center disaster every four years-with kids as victims.  Over the last twenty years, America has lost nearly 17,000 children because they lacked access to health care, this according to a study released by the Johns Hopkins Children's Center."
end quote

Continue reading here:
OR
http://www.examiner.com/health-news-in-san-francisco/no-insurance-killing-thousands-of-american-kids

 


I ask you all, and all over again, How many MORE of our children must, and will, die, if these Republicans of ours REMOVE the insurances that our children were just given in September 2010?

Lord I am getting SO tired of asking questions that boggle our minds, crush our spirits, and murder our children, and other loved ones!

It is "ethnic~cleansing" by law - nothing more, nothing less. Please vote accordingly next year.
Yes, it's a long way off. 
That said, I can almost guarantee that you will be angry with me if you don't like the HealthCare Bill.   ;-)  
Please think twice- Save your anger for our babies.
I promise to post the FACTS, not hearsay.  I further promise to post ALL linked documentation.



Back to Flintville...
I see that my woodpecker is back-

-and nesting in my house?!?!
Pretty darn ballsy of them if you ask me!
hehehe

It is almost time for my next doses of medication, but I will rest a bit for a while first. Maybe eat a sandwich, or for sure I will hear from Polly. hehehe 
She says I do not eat well enough because of the pain and the drugs- that it is a vicious circle.
I know she is right. But I do try. After that I will go wrestle the machinery.

I'd best get going then if I am to accomplish anything today.

I hope all is well in your little corner of the world...
My love to all

XOXO
Me

* Incidentally, the PBS documentary, The Most Dangerous Man in America, won 14 separate awards.

Anyone forget about The Marine Corp lately?

Good Morning Everyone;
While I, like every other true American, is absolutely proud, and in complete awe, of our Navy SEALS who 'offed' Public Enemy Number One; we canNOT ever forget that they did not do this alone.
They have had help from ALL facets of our American Military for the last 9+ years...
 ...And from our allies as well.
Some are home. Many are not.


My godson, and oh, so (TOO), many others, who took their allegiances so far away from home, for so long, to fight for all of us...

Though I have replied to very few, I have read lots of your blogs here on our Multiply site - from one end of the 'hate' spectrum to the far other...

* Those written by/for/from "the pissed off" (aka 'dERanGed'), to our "elated proud".
The first listed above, I do not 'get' -unless written by a very selfish Billy Jack pacifist.
AND, I have basically held my tongue; and will continue to do so; unless there is something I don't understand. Trust me then I will ask for clarification.

Very shortly, I will clarify my own position; entitled "Methinks/thanks Navy SEALS."

I received the story below, purportedly true, from my friend Duane- who himself breathes and bleeds Marine Corps blood and air...
All thanks, always, Duane, and company, for the time and the effort, and the sacrifices you made during your tours of VietNam.

Methinks I would like to be this guys girlfriend- Read on...
With special thanks to Craig's List.

...

____________________________________

To the Guy Who Tried to Mug Me in Downtown Savannah night before last.  Date: 2010-09-27, 1:43 a.m.  E.S.T.

I was the guy wearing the black Burberry jacket that you demanded that I hand over, shortly after you pulled the knife on me and my girlfriend, threatening our lives. You also asked for my girlfriend's purse and earrings. I can only hope that you somehow come across this rather important message.

 First, I'd like to apologize for your embarrassment; I didn't expect you to actually crap in your pants when I drew my pistol after you took my jacket.. The evening was not that cold, and I was wearing the jacket for a reason.. my girlfriend was happy that I just returned safely from my 2nd tour as a Combat Marine in Afghanistan .. She had just bought me that Kimber Custom Model 1911 .45 ACP pistol for my birthday, and we had picked up a shoulder holster for it that very evening. Obviously you agree that it is a very intimidating weapon when pointed at your head ... isn't it?!

 I know it probably wasn't fun walking back to wherever you'd come from with that brown sludge in your pants. I'm sure it was even worse walking bare-footed since I made you leave your shoes, cell phone, and wallet with me. [That prevented you from calling or running to your buddies to come help mug us again].

 After I called your mother or "Momma" as you had her listed in your cell, I explained the entire episode of what you'd done. Then I went and filled up my gas tank as well as those of four other people in the gas station, -- on your credit card. The guy with the big motor home took 153 gallons and was extremely grateful!
 I gave your shoes to a homeless guy outside Vinnie Van Go Go's, along with all the cash in your wallet. [That made his day!]

 I then threw your wallet into the big pink "pimp mobile" that was parked at the curb .... after I broke the windshield and side window and keyed the entire driver's side of the car.

 Later, I called a bunch of phone sex numbers from your cell phone. Ma Bell just now shut down the line, although I only used the phone for a little over a day now, so what 's going on with that? Earlier, I managed to get in two threatening phone calls to the DA's office and one to the FBI, while mentioning President Obama as my possible target.

 The FBI guy seemed really intense and we had a nice long chat (I guess while he traced your number etc.).

  In a way, perhaps I should apologize for not killing you ... but I feel this type of retribution is a far more appropriate punishment for your threatened crime. I wish you well as you try to sort through some of these rather immediate pressing issues, and can only hope that you have the opportunity to reflect upon, and perhaps reconsider, the career path you've chosen to pursue in life..

Remember, next time you might not be so lucky.

Have a good day!

Thoughtfully yours,
Semper Fi

 Alex
____________________________________


I hope you will be smiling when you are done reading this story.
Moreover, I hope this is true. I could find nothing, online, that denied its veracity.
A fascinating story- from both sides, hehehe, wouldn't you agree?

OO~RAH!
Nuff said?   (Do let me know)...

XOXO
Anne

Old Bikes; and Worn Out Boots

From my email this morning.
(Thank you Duane)  

________________________________________________

Their old bikes, worn out boots, leathers, old jeans and leathered faces,~ tells us all they have ridden far and seen many places.
   
You see them riding in small packs but many times alone,~ the loner is the one that knows the ropes and brotherhood to the bone.
   
The gray in their hair and the white in their beard,~ tells you right off they have been there and done that, nothing ever feared.
   
They have been there and done that and still very much alive,~ so give them respect and to be their friend you must strive.
   
They take care of their friends and always their own,~ they can teach you things about life and REAL you have never known.
   
They are quiet and at the bars mostly sit alone,~ because their old brothers and lifestyle are almost gone.
   
Like old brothers their lady's are loyal real and to them totally bound,~ if they were not they sure as hell wouldn't be around.
   
Many are vets from a place call Vietnam,~ where they fought a meaningless war for you and Uncle Sam.
   
Like the dinosaurs of old the old bikers will go down,~ and when the last one falls only those that know will hear the sound.
   
To all you young rider wannabes and prospects I give this toast,~ ride on brother for beside you rides an "Old Bikers" Ghost.
   
We ride down life's lonesome highway and just around the bend,~ stands the golden gates to glory right at it's end.
   
At these gates a hooded cloaked brother stands as their keeper,~ he's the last brother you meet "THE GRIM REAPER".
   
He waves you through his scythe held high,~ "welcome brother your lifestyle here will never die".
   
So to all you preppy wannabe's prospects and all that ride,~ find you an "Old Biker" and from him learn -by his teachings abide.
   
Some day down life's highway as you ride an "Old Biker" riding all alone,~ a cold breeze will hit you and chill you to the bone.
  
Glance over brother you may see me after I'm gone riding there,~ your guardian angel "Old Biker" grinning with the wind in my hair.
 
The "Old Biker" that taught you the real way,~ will ride beside you till your last day.

Ride on brothers the gates to glory are just ahead, ~ all your brothers are here and your style's not dead.

______________________________________

Have a grand weekend my friends!

XOXO
Me

Betrayal and Babies. A "No Yahoo" Blog!

Back to the Blog!!!
MINE!

...I promise not to even THINK about all the garbage going on in our little 360~World this morning. (Like my danged fat~foot~pain, I have grown WAY too tired of it all anyway)...

Good Morning Everyone, (well, to those of you who are still here)...

Off on a wild tangent here. Was exploring a bit, and also found a few more pictures of my own here. had to fight with my HP Scanner to get them all in, and edited too. Alls well that ends well though...

Oh, and you'd probably want to grab a cup of coffee, it's a long-ish blog...

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I am going to write today of betrayal, guile and deceit. And a few of my own experiences thereof...

de·ceive
VERB:
de·ceived , de·ceiv·ing , de·ceives

To cause to believe what is not true; mislead. Archaic To catch by guile; ensnare.

V: intr.
To practice deceit. To give a false impression.

One of Angies recent blogs dealt with her own problems with a friendship she had come to cherish. Click her name for her story.

I have recently learned of deceit by a once~close family member who has forgotten that one of the commandments is "Thou shalt not steal".
I am deciding whether to press charges against this person.
(It is none of my offspring).

...Life. Yeah, it's kinda like that...

Having a conversation with Richard the other day, he had brought up something that I hadn't thought about in years. And that Casey had never known about. Was she shocked or surprised? Not. But the fact that I was surprised when he had even recalled it has given me moments to think on it awhile.

Scenario: Married. Separated. Back together. Separated. Divorced.
All in a 4 and a half year time span.
Less than 1/10th of my entire life, it still bears importance to me; (maybe just because at the time it was 20% of my whole life).

At one point we had moved our married life and two small babies to Holland, Michigan; and then a few months later, to Zeeland Michigan.
It was at that point in Michigan that our marriage was over for me.
No car of my own, I carried the kids, to secure a UHaul... And then packed that truck while "he" was at work. I packed up an entire house, two little babies, and was bound and determined to drive that truck home to Flintville that night.
BUT... (lady luck)...
He came home early that day; and I made the mistake of saying that I was leaving, and that he was "welcome to join me."
(Hindsight being what it is, he wasn't; but he did).

When we got back here, we stayed here at Mom and Dads for a while; just until we could find a place of our own... In the meantime, one of my friends had come over, and had asked me to join her softball team.

But of course I would join!!! I was thrilled to have something, other than tending babies, to do.
Hmmm... Nope, that does NOT make me a bad mother to say that; rather it keeps me honest. (Those babies were born not even 14 months apart).

Another close friend, Cindy VerVaeren (sp), and I spent lots of time together too. She was my confidante. She was my rock. She had an apartment on the west side of town, (the place we had found was on the east side).
We shared our trials with respect to life. She was to be married to a classmate of ours, and asked me to be matron of honor. YAY!
(And once more to reiterate that I was SO happy to be back HOME)!

I played softball... fast pitch, slow pitch, and every other kind. (And I was damn good at it too)! hehehe My "wonderful" husband actually was thrown out of the ballpark at Bay Beach for cursing each and every decision the umps made. Banned from all my games too. I was embarassed that he was there acting like that, and further embarassed at that decision too.

It was during that time that I had met Richard.

Having taken a season off because I was pregnant with Roberta, I still had many friends from my teams. One of the teams I played for was The Surf Club. A quaint, but rather large old "mom~and~pop" type club; owned by Johnnie Johnson and his wife.
One month after Roberta was born I filed for divorce. After going to the shelter, I then moved with my three babies to my parents home; until the idiot was court~ordered to vacate our apartment.
Weeks/months (whatever) later, I was joining some friends at The Surf Club. While they drank or played darts, or shot pool, I was playing at the pinball machine. The door to the club was directly behind me by about 3 feet, if that...

I remember that I had an excellent game going, and had been given TONS of extra games already. My points just kept adding up... (I was sure getting my quarters worth)! hehehe
All of a sudden, to find myself down on the floor, and thrown into the wall at my side.
Hurt.
And there were many people yelling.
Scared, but to turn a bit, and open my eyes after the impact with the wall, I saw my (still then) husband standing there and cursing.
He was over 6' tall, and "Little Mark" as we called him, was 'telling him off'. Mark was maybe all of 5'7" tall. I remember Johnny Johnson yelling too, and telling my idiot husband to "get out and stay out"...
(No one could have stopped it, or barely even seen him come in. It all happened so fast).

Rick had recalled this event the other day... We had been talking about how things had changed during the course of ones lifetime.
He was there that night, and had seen it happen too; but shooting at one of the pool tables at the other end of the place, he had not gotten there fast enough either. (The idiot had already been forcibly removed from the club).

I called Cindy to come and get me. There was no way I was going back to Mom and Dads and have to share this with them. (At that point still, I was still too embarassed to tell them about everything)... And I spent that night at Cindys, along with many more, (in "hiding" if you will, in her security~locked building).
Like I said, she was my rock...

She got married, and I was her matron of honor. Not too very long after that, she came to my townhouse and declared that divorce was wrong. She told me if I went through with the divorce that all of my kids would be stupid juvenile deliquents and wind up in jail. (Things to that nature)... And she told me that a divorced woman alone was useless etc etc etc. And that she didn't care to be friends with me.

I couldn't believe the contempt that came from her. Only a few weeks before having watched her be married, having signed her marriage license.

Asking her to repeat it all, and doubly asking her if this is what she truly believed, I told her, in no uncertain terms, to leave my house, and my life. She did.

I was shattered completely; for I had always honored my friends too. And for the first time in my life, (save for the brutal marriage I'd had), I knew what betrayal felt like. It burnt all the way through... And it cut deep.

Fast forward a few years to our 10 year class reunion. Her husband had come to me asking to 'bury the hatchet'. (Over my dead body).
She'd simply pulled up anchor and had left me.
I didn't want any part of that. Not again. "Fool me once" was enough.
I do remember at that reunion having a glass of lambusco in my hand, and I also remember toying with the idea of tossing it at her cream colored dress. But I didn't. (I think I regret that to this day). Oh well.

The things that have changed during our lifetimes here. Rick is older than I by 10 years. He grew up to do his tours with the Marine Corp in Vietnam. He said when he was a kid that the husbands that beat their wives were scorned a bit, but everyone had a tendency to look the other way. Then came the stick up for a few wives mentality... And then the wives began to stick up for themselves too.

Yet, with respect to domestic violence, the role the police had was only to separate the husbands and the wives; if only to tell them to go cool off for an hour or so!

I swear that with respect to what I went through, my own ex might still be in jail if the laws we have now could somehow be made retroactive.

Now if only we could make our children understand.

Have a great Tuesday.

Love to all.

XOXO
Anne

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Free Counters

Memorial Day 2007

G'Morning Friends...

Please...

If you are going to be going to any parades etc...

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Remove your hats.

Celebrate the flag.

Honor your veterans by getting up off your arses to see them pass.

Salute.

Cheer.

Cry.

Remember always...

And teach your children what Memorial Day is truly about...

Do anything but gather candy.

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I believe the following was written by Danielle Steel...

Just a few words for thought is all; not only for Vietnam, but for all who went before, who are there still, and all who are fighting now to keep us all safe... somehow.

And for all of those who are left only to relive this time and again; in their own minds, their own way, their own war with themselves... Believe only, They ARE in our own world.

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THE BOYS WHO FOUGHT IN NAM

Passed hand to hand,

the wishes,

the dreams,

the hopes of an entire generation...

An entire nation,

sent to war.

A score of old men,

leading our boys to die

while we watched in horror

in pain...

...and in disbelief

that we had to lose

so many of our boys...

Thier toys barely left behind.

Their eyes so young,

so bright

and so full of hope.

The fight so long,

so sad.

The pain so bad.

The wounds so deep.

Until at last

our young men sleep

in their Makers arms again.

Their names...

...carved in stone.

never to come home;

never to touch our tears again

Lest we forget...

Lest we grow old...

Our hearts must never be so cold.

We must run and hide.

We must remember...

...them...

...The boys who died.

Let it not be in vain.

Let us not forget the pain

the cries,

the agonies,

the braveries,

the heroes

and the smiles

The time that was

so long ago,

across so many miles...

In a land so bright

so green

Caught in a place

just inbetween

hope and lies

We must remember still.

We must promise that

we will always touch their hearts

While we still can

REMEMBER FRIENDS...

The boys who died,

who lived,

who cried...

...

...

...

These Boys Who Fought in Nam

~~~~~~~~~~~

Have a safe and honorable day...

XOXO
Anne

Today, Casey and Richard Michael

"The time has come" the walrus said...

But first of all, the update on My Little Miss Casey. She stayed in town for the evening, having called the last time about 9 or so, and in intense pain once again. (This from a glass of water).

She is at Dereks house; much closer to the hospitals there.

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CaseyAnne with Her Saxophone...

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I know that many of you have closely followed all of Caseys progress last year, (and beyond). ...From the hospitals in Green Bay to Milwaukee Childrens Hospital, to Froedtert Hospital, back to Green Bay etc etc etc.

I have lost accurate count, but I believe her surgeries number eight or nine in the past 2 or 3 years... She seems to have gotten the very same pain yesterday that she had a year ago. She was hospitalized last Spring for a long time at Easter; with acute pancreatitis.

Still idiopathic, with respect to "why"; but last year she was told already that she has the pancreas of a sixty year old man who has been drinking heavily for 40 of those years. (WTF)?

And so, time will tell how she fares for the next few days. She has another appointment this morning. I will keep you informed as I am able to. Please keep her in your hearts, your thoughts and your prayers.

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As for the picture above? hehehe

Hmmmm....

(I am thinking that this blog will not only pass time, but will be very informative to most of you)...

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****Several of you have emailed me asking who "Grandpa Rick" is to Master Gabriel?

...And just so you know, it really would have been alright to ask within the comments section as I have no secrets from my family; (but I do thank you for your discretion too).

To say I have a confession would be whole~heartedly wrong, for it would imply that I also do some staged act of contrition. To then have to apologize would somehow negate a very large part of my heart and soul, and my family. Quite simply put, I will not EVER do that.

In simpler terms, Richard is Robertas father.

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Richard, Roberta, and Myself; at her 8th grade graduation ceremony...

I had to cut Zoe out of the picture here, but we were all laughing at her antics that night, (or so my mother had written on the back of the photo)...

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Richard and I Doing Dishes Here...

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Naptime; CaseyAnne, (with "TC"); Richard on the floor...

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Richard; At Zoes Birthday Party!

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Richard; with Jennifer... (I am unsure of the date here)...

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Well, you get the picture... Do you see the "measure of the man" as it reflects within his eyes?

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Gabriel and Lawrence too, will be wise and good men; they already have the eyes for it!

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Richard is a good man.

A very kind and gentle man; thrown into the midst of the godless Vietnam War at the tender age of 17.

...He came home very changed man; almost severe in his convictions, yet deep inside still the 17 year old kid wanting not yet to have all those cruel memories of war.

I know that there are too many Vietnam Veterans who personify my Richard; mentally, physically and emotionally.

I have known them.

I have loved but one; (and somewhere inside I still do).

I further believe that the most tender giants took the hardest hits there.

As a result Rick is an alcoholic. As a result of that, we cannot be together, as I could not bear to have to watch him die. He worked very hard to overcome, and to be able to be with us, And he was clean and sober until...

And so, that should answer most of your questions for "today"... I have already spoken to Casey, and she still has terrible pain... and it is a good thing that we have that appointment this morning.

I think I need to regroup a bit now...

Have a kind and gentle Wednesday...

XOXO
Anne

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Before anyone presume to judge myself or Richard.I was separated, (and more than estranged), from my very cruel husband when Roberta Marie was conceived...

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Poison
Something To Believe In
------------------------

Well I see him on the TV
Preachin' 'bout the promised land
He tells me to believe in Jesus
And steals the money from my hand
Some say he was a good man
But Lord I think he sinned

Twenty-two years of mental tears
Cries a suicidal Vietnam vet
Who fought a losing war on a foreign shore
To find his country did not want him back
Their bullets took his best friend in Saigon
Our lawyers took his wife, his kids no regrets
In a time I don't remember
In a war he can't forget

He cries forgive me for what I've done there
Forgive me for the things I did
And give me something to believe in
If there's a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise

My best friend died a lonely man
In some Palm Springs hotel room
I got the call last Christmas Eve
And they told me the news

I tried all night not to break down and cry
As the tears rolled down my face
I felt so cold and empty
Like a lost soul out of place

And the mirror, mirror on the wall
Sees my smile, it fades again
And give me something to believe in
If there's a Lord above

And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise
Sometimes I wish to God I didn't know now
Things I didn't know then
Road you got to take me home

I drive by the homeless sleeping on a cold dark street
Like bodies in an open grave
Underneath an old broken down neon sign, used to read JESUS SAVES

A mile away lived the rich folk
And I see how they're living it up
While the poor they eat from hand to mouth
The rich drink from the golden cup

And it just makes me wonder why so many lose while so few win
And give me something to believe in

If there's a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise
And give me something to believe in
If there's a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise
And give me something to believe in
If there's a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise

You take the high road and I'll take the low road
And give me something to believe in
If there's a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise
You take the high road and I'll take the low road
And give me something to believe in
If there's a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise
You take the high road and I'll take the low road
And give me something to believe in
If there's a Lord above
And give me something to believe in
Oh, Lord arise
Sometimes I wish to God I didn't know now
Things I didn't know then
And give me something to believe in

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