Family Thanksgiving at Chad's

Turkery carver Chad....it was steaming hot!

Pops & Britt as Supervisors

Pops, MaMa and 'Big Boy' Joshua

 

MaMa, Neena Lynn, and Dylan who is choosing 'his toys' from Santa

Precious JJ, Joshua Shane and a 'adoring fan'

Vacation on the Carnival Dream...

                       Hot Tubs that overlooked the ocean....

                            Wonderful servers everywhere....

                              Pictures that were awesome....

                      Pat re~living birthday at Senor' Frogs

                          Dress~up night with my Honey....

This Mega~Ship was H U G E!

But a 'good time' was had by all....

Enjoying lunch with two of our 'kids'....

Daughter Lynn, and Son Chad, graced us with their presence
at Hula Bay on the water....needless to say, we are HAPPY!

Baby brother and his Sis... Two Peas~in~a~Pod

Mom and two of her three children ....
"Chuck in Kenya, we miss you and love you"....
see you and Terry soon, God willing!

Chad's Tribute to his Dad and all the US Military....

                              Click on tribute below to view for reading....

To: Charlie, Blake, Pipo, Dockie, Walker, Don, Ray D., Rich, Linda, Victor, Bob, Junior, Fred, Firpo, Sandy, Stan, Bill etc. and all of you who have served our country well...

POEM WORTH READING

(Sent from Chuck to his Dad)

He was getting
old and paunchy
And his hair was falling fast,
And he sat around the Legion,
Telling stories of the past.

Of a war that he once fought in
And the deeds that he had done,
In his exploits with his buddies;
They were heroes, every one.

And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors
His tales became a joke,
All his buddies listened quietly
For they knew whereof he spoke.
But we'll hear his tales no longer,
For old Bob has passed away,
And the world's a little poorer
For a Soldier died today.

He won t be mourned by many,
Just his children and his wife.
For he lived an ordinary,
Very quiet sort of life.
He held a job and raised a family,
Going quietly on his way;
And the world won't note his passing,
'Tho a Soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth,
Their bodies lie in state,
While thousands note their passing,
And proclaim that they were great.
Papers tell of their life stories
From the time that they were young
But the passing of a Soldier
Goes unnoticed, and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution
To the welfare of our land,
Someone who breaks his promise
And cons his fellow man?
Or the ordinary fellow
Who in times of war and strife,
Goes off to serve his country
And offers up his life?

The politician's stipend
And the style in which he lives,
Are often disproportionate,
To the service that he gives.
While the ordinary Soldier,
Who offered up his all,
Is paid off with a medal
And perhaps a pension, small.

It is not the politicians
With their compromise and ploys,
Who won for us the freedom
That our country now enjoys.
Should you find yourself in danger,
With your enemies at hand,
Would you really want some cop-out,
With his ever waffling stand?
Or would you want a Soldier--
His home, his country, his kin,
Just a common Soldier,
Who would fight until the end?

He was just a common Soldier,
And his ranks are growing thin,
But his presence should remind us
We may need his like again.
For when countries are in conflict,
We find the Soldier's part
Is to clean up all the troubles
That the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor
While he's here to hear the praise,
Then at least let's give him homage
At the ending of his days.
Perhaps just a simple headline
In the paper that might say:
"OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING,
A SOLDIER DIED TODAY."

Count The Cost!

In Mar 11, 2003, I wrote the following post on this blog.
It applies again, 2010,  to some things in my life and my families life as well.

Count The Cost!
Certain phrases of life become normal in the ‘NOW’ world.
How much does it cost? That costs too much! How expensive is it?
What did you pay for that? Whatz it gonna cost yu?
I can not tell you how many times in my own life I’ve used these words in reference to......money.
But have you ever had anyone ask you about ’the cost’ of......
achieving a dream...
giving up a dream....

loving someone...
giving up someone you love....

having ‘things‘....
doing without....

Commitment to family....
No commitment to anyone....

going to war.....
not going to war....

This list could go on and on......my point is that we are more often concerned about costs ie; financial.....
than the actual cost, life wise, of the things that money can not buy.
We pay with our life.....for what we believe in.....
Years are spent.....just as money is spent!
ARE THEY SPENT WISELY?
What does a ‘good’ life cost?
What does one ‘pay’ for a ‘bad’ life?
We ‘pay’ for either one.....with our life’s blood....so to speak!
This thinking brings to my mind a beautiful poem by Helen Steiner Rice that tells the story of the ‘Cost’ of life in a very significant way.

The Story of Albrecht Durer....1471-1528....Durer is known in Europe as one of the supreme masters of woodcut and copper engravings as well as paintings. He was born in Nurenberg, Germany and when the U.S. Army sent our family to Nurenberg many years ago the “Albrecht Durer House” was a main tourist visit for our guests.
In 1512, Durer became court painter to Emperor Maximillian. Durer, also, traveled extensively and brought many innovative ideas into his works of art. He produced a ‘now famous’ painting which we all have seen at some time or another called....The Praying Hands.
There is a ‘little known fact’ about the origin of this work.
This fact is told in Helen Steiner Rice’s Poem...Called simply....

THE PRAYING HANDS....
As you read this poem...Perhaps you’d like to know
That this story really happened....Many centuries ago.
When two talented young artists....Were struggling hard to earn
Just enough to live on....So both of them might learn.
How to be great artists....And leave behind a name
That many centuries later....Would still retain its fame.
But in their dire necessity....For warmth of food and fire
One of the artists sacrificed...his dream and heart’s desire....
So he might earn a living...and provide enough to eat
‘Til both of them were back again....Securely on their feet.
But months and years of grueling toil.....Destroyed the craftsman’s touch,
And scarred and stiffened were the hands....That held promise of so much
He could no longer hold a brush....The way he used to do
And the dream he once had cherished....No longer could come true....
So, uncomplainingly, he lived....With his friend who had succeeded
Who now could purchase all the things....They once had so much needed.
But the famous ALBRECHT DURER...The friend we’re speaking of,
Was always conscious that he owed...A debt of thanks and love...
To one who sacrificed his skill...So that Durer might succeed,
But how can anyone repay....Such a sacrificial deed?
But when he saw these hands in prayer....He decided he would paint
A picture for the world to see....Of this “unheralded saint”.....
So down through countless ages...And in many, many lands...
All could see the beauty....In these toilworn PRAYING HANDS.
And seeing they would recognize...That behind FAME and SUCCESS
Someone sacrificed a dream.....For another’s....Happiness.

 Praying Hands by Albrech Druer

Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen!
In order merely to keep food on the table for this big family, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighbourhood.
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by labouring in the mines.
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg.
Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honoured position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfil his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no ...no ...no."
Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ... for me it is too late."
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver point sketches, water-colours, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

Family Seafood 'Gator Game' Day....Thanks, Kevin, Carla & Chuck aka:Pipo

Pops delight, two Great~Grands in his arms, Turk (Chuck IV) & Kason...

 Gators Playing was celebrated....Seafood, Steaming Oysters. and 'talking big'  was the norm.

     Mr. Kevin....a real honest-to-goodness-long-time Gator Fan kept an eye on the game even while watching the grill and solving mechanical  problems on the phone...

 Florida cool spell makes Tia Ash take cover...Mother~in~Law, Lynn, lovingly shares the warmth. 

                  Pops is always happy with 'Babydoll' Granddaughter, Carla

 These cousins, Matt & Pipo, up to no good on their phones...watching 'Pearl'.... 

Turk shows his new 'tattoos'...

Boys playing with Russian Tower Puzzle...same as their parents did at this age...

 Chuck IV aka: Turkey, and Kason explore Pops jungle and have fun together.

Family:  We may not have it all 'together' BUT

TOGETHER WE HAVE IT ALL!!!

Do It NOW!

Remembering a theme from a seminar, 'Do It Now' caught me off guard.
I was contemplating my tasks for the day and  was putting some things' off' in my mind...
Yes, I was living in La~La Land when suddenly I remembered this theme and about the same time my husband, Charlie, walked in with a sports shirt that said,  "Just DO It!"
Kinda made me....mad!
I could not ignore my complacency any longer.
Then I thought of  a principle from the seminar,
"It takes as much energy to avoid a task as it does to do it!
Procrastination saps power:
Completion gives.....relief."
Seems I had no choice if I was to live in peace with....me!
.....Now all I had to do was....Get~r~Done!

Ever see a lavender farm?

Reminder....for ME!!!!

"You never dismiss people because they are not educated, because they are white, because they are black, yellow, red or purple, because they are women, because they are old or young.
Every encounter is sacred, and we need to value that encounter."
       THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS....
                                  AN INSIGNIFICANT PERSON!!!
This was brought home to me recently as I encountered a 'homeless' woman, one of many in our area.
You know the drill your heart plays in compassion as this happens again and again with homeless everywhere .
I turned away from this encounter at McDonald's but  as we drove next door for gas I could not live with
      ' me' so I got out and walked back over to this poor lady.
I put my arm around her and slipped some money into her hand, kissing her on the cheek and saying my usual, "God bless you dear one" and started to walk away....
She called me back saying, "Who are you? Can I bless you?"
Then she put her arm around me and prayed for me, my family and all that were close to my heart.
It became a 'sacred' moment in time for me.  My heart leaped with joy.
I was humbled.
This became a Reminder.....to ME!!!!

God uses ordinary people to carry out His extraordinary plan.

A little poem I wrote says it simply,
I sought to hear the voice of God
And climbed the highest steeple
But God said, "God down again
I live among the people."

Today you are you, and that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than you. -Dr. Seuss

Thanks, Gracie:)