live from the guillotine

Happy Birthday Mom...I Love You

Since today is Mom's birthday, I find myself thinking back on her repeated admonishment to use my talents not only to laugh at each day and every absurdity, but to further the kingdom of God. It comes as no surprise to me that my sister and I continue to send each other the same messages and thoughts, from different writers and for different audiences, but still the same point. I don't believe in coincidences. Either Mom is coordinating her plans for us from heaven, or all of the things she built into us over the years are making us join together to desire to do the things that are important. Certainly it makes my heart smile to believe she's just doing it right now since she can, but quite honestly, the fact that we are so in tune with one another in the last month is something Mom is completely responsible for in either case. She put all of those things in our hearts and nurtured it all our lives. 

So on this day, I am remembering to examine my own heart. What am I doing for God's kingdom today? A dear friend posted this Tony Campolo video on her Facebook page and it really made an impression.

 

 

If not us, who? If not now, when? I know this, but so often fail to act.  God forgive me. Then my sister sent me this link today:

Haiti, Personal Crisis, and a Manifesto:

I hear you, God; I recognize what you grieve for. I see this world, of which I reside in the top 1% of wealth, and I will not imagine that much is not required from whom much has been given.

God has blessed me with a warm, comfortable home, a family that I adore and give thanks for every single day, and I won the world lottery being born into not only my own family, but also this great country. Admonish  me to thank YOU for that every day. Remind me spend Your money, entrusted to me, on Your Kingdom, not my comfort. Please continue to make me aware on a daily basis of the needs of Your Kingdom and let me act on it, joyfully, in an attempt to aid and bless others. And when I forget? Please remind me.

 

The Funeral Program

A very good friend of Mom's was the person who designs the programs for the funeral home, so we just told her, we know you know our mother. We trust you to make it look like Mom. And she did. It has bling. There is animal print, a jeweled cross, bright colors and great pictures. It was perfect and Mom would have loved it:

 

Mom's Obituary

Wilma Ruth Measles Hogan was born October 23, 1939 in Olton, Texas. She was the youngest of five children born to JG and Mary Measles.

After graduating from Tulia High School in 1957, she moved to the big city of Plainview where she began working at the telephone company. It was there that she encountered the dashing Bud Hogan as he cruised around the Trio Rebel drive in. The first night she saw him Wilma whispered to her best friend that her destiny had been set. After a dramatic courtship and engagement involving a beautiful ring, a last ditch trip to California, and a dramatic exit, she and Bud married on March 17, 1962.

After a few years and a bribe that involved new furniture, Wilma and Bud welcomed two daughters, Lana and Jana, into their family.

Throughout her life Wilma would use her adminstrative gifts in her home, professional and charity work. She loved people and sought out jobs that gave her exposure to others. She loved her work at the Plainview Chamber of Commerce, Plainview ISD, and a law firm to name a few.

In 1986 Wilma and Bud moved to Munday where Wilma opened a barber shop and became active in the local Chamber of Commerce and involved with her community and church, Believer's Chapel. Wilma was a life-long volunteer whose passions were channeled into work with Relay for Life, the Republican Party of Texas, the Emmaus community, Munday's vacation Bible School and her church.

She is survived by her husband of 50 years, Bud Hogan, her two daughters Lana Jordan and Jana Nelson, her sister Mary Lu Grant, her brother Bob Measles; her grandchildren Jana Wilkerson, Kelsey Smith, Jake, Kellyn and Levi Jordan, Whitney, Spencer, Carley, Hogan and Ella Nelson; her three great grandchildren Kaylee and Nash Jordan and Kyleigh Nelson; and numerous beloved nieces, nephews and cousins.

Wilma was a woman full of life and passion, for her friends, family and Jesus. Despite every challenge she faced, Wilma always chose joy. It was her strongest desire in life to love people into a relationship with Jesus.

A Tribute and Celebration of the Life of Wilma Hogan

 

JANA:  Thanks for coming. Lana and I want to say a few words today about our mom.  We’re doing it together because Mom always quoted that Ecclesiastes verse “two are better than one for if either falls down or starts bawling, the other can keep talking…”

It will come as no surprise when I say we come from a long line of straight talkers.  So today, Lana and I have gathered some stories to share about the real Wilma – our mom was a piece of work!  She could get under your skin like no one else. She never met an argument she didn’t like. But she was also a true partner in marriage, a mother of high caliber and expectation and a really loving and loyal grandmother and great grandmother.

LANA:  Our mother was nothing if not fun. She embraced all the beauty and joy that life had to offer and was the first one to suggest a party. Despite a mediocre voice, Mom welcomed each day with a song, and that created the soundtrack for our lives.  I always thought everyone lived in a musical because we did. Our house was full of laughter, music, emotion and love.  Later we would realize it was a bubble, far from the norm; however for us, there was no moment that didn’t deserve a song or a belly laugh. 

JANA:  We don’t have time to share all the lessons she taught us -- but we want to hit a few high points today in celebration of the beauty that was our mom.

1) Tell the truth.  Sadly for us we got this trait from both gene pools.  Truth telling is a family value…but more sadly for our friends and family, tact is not.  Mom told people the truth. Sometimes you asked for it. Often, you did not. Either way, Mom was willing to risk comfort for the sake of honesty. And if you’ve ever been on the other side of her honesty, it packed a punch.

LANA:

2) Read a book.  Mom was an avid reader and she nurtured that in us. Mom understood the pure magic of reading.  A small town girl, Mom was never small-minded because she had books to teach her, to transport her, to change her, to expand her.  When Lana and I were little and we were living in Kansas far from family, Mom would hire babysitters so she could go home to curl up with a good book.  That love of knowledge made mom relentless in her quest for new things.  Not only was she was the first adult in our family to have a myspace page and join Facebook, Mom had the first laptop and Kindle.

JANA:

3) Serve other people. Mom was a Christ follower who used her personality and compassion to notice other people’s needs and meet them. Early memories involve a long roster of foster children who flowed in and out of our house for years.  And even when the foster children stopped, the philosophy of bringing broken people into our home never did.  Imagine the horror of two teen girls when they open the door on Christmas Eve to see a crew from the Mental Health Mental Retardation Center’s Halfway House that Mom had invited over. I cannot begin to count the number of bachelors and single gals from our childhood church who received free haircuts in our kitchen – one girl even moved into Lana’s room.  Often we would call home to lament over a tragic episode but Mom would offer just a bit of sympathy before recommending we go volunteer somewhere.   During her first bout with cancer, Mom gave her nurses facials. And a few years ago, Mom eliminated Christmas gifts so she and Dad could support children in international missions… but true to her nature, she still gave everyone a book.

LANA:

4) Don’t waste passion.  If something matters, you try and fix it. This character was so innate I don’t know that Mom ever saw how unique and rare she was.  When she dropped me off at elementary school in Kansas and saw children sitting in the halls, she immediately set out to help get a bond passed to pay for buildings.  I doubt there was a newspaper editor that didn’t know Mom. When we were in high school, we wished we didn’t know Mom. She always signed her letters to the editor, Mrs. Wendell G. Hogan and people all over town would say, do you know that Mrs. Wendell G. Hogan that’s always in the paper? And we would say, no! Our dad’s name is Bud.  In Plainview when she had issues with the high school curriculum and the School Board disagreed with her position, she and Uncle James established a community group, F.Y.I., to run against several board members.  Ultimately, three school board members went down in defeat.  When she didn’t feel she had a voice with her local representation, she ran for state representative because she believed people should be represented by their local officials.  Ironically, she lost more battles than she won, but she never quit, she was never defeated for long and she never stopped trying to make a difference where she saw a need.  And now, of course, instead of being embarrassed, we are both in awe of her fearlessness and hope to be more like her.

JANA:

5) Give grace.  Mom had the ability to give grace where it was needed most.  To be quite honest, we would say that most of that grace was lavished on those outside our immediate family. Of course, you guys might not say that!  For those she loved she reserved a high set of expectations that could knock the breath out of you.  Mom’s personal beliefs were so clearly defined, so black and white – yet it was almost uncanny how she could slather grace over people’s messes.  She understood that we’re all broken and in need of a savior, herself most of all.  She knew we’re the only Jesus some people ever experience and she was so good at being Jesus to broken people -- embracing them where they were, loving them in spite of their failings, letting God do the work, and pointing them in the right direction.  And after a time she would default back to truth-telling and her delivery would become a little more direct. 

LANA:

6) Choose joy.  Mom’s life was not without pain…no one’s is. But the gift she passed onto us was that happiness is a choice.   She actually gave me a book named, Happiness is a Choice. Perhaps I’d called home whining once too often? Bad things happen to everyone. This is a fallen world, but it is up to us to make a conscious decision to choose joy no matter what comes our way.  Mom knew that each day of her life was gift not to be wasted. She knew that Jesus had redeemed her and so no matter what she faced, inside or outside, she had cause to rejoice…and she did.

JANA:

7) Sacrificial love. Mom’s expectations may have been high for her children and really, all of those she adopted and embraced, but she was determined to drag us all across the finish line if need be. In addition to books and admonitions, she was a prayer warrior for all the people she loved.  She would often wake in the middle of the night with one of us on her heart. She’d immediately intercede at the throne of Christ on our behalf.  Even this past year when she was so sick, Mom acknowledged that God might be using her cancer journey to impact other people because He works everything to good for those who love the Lord. She told me last summer, “If this journey is necessary for God to reach for one of my grandkids or great-grandkids, I’ll take it for them.” That’s the way she loved us.

LANA:  Mom would also want you to know that one of the main reasons she had the freedom and courage to be the woman God created her to be was because Bud Hogan was always right behind her telling her she could do anything.  On this day, Daddy’s 76^th birthday, it should not go without saying that Dad is part of what made Mom special. 

What we must do next is honor her by following her example. When you stumble, get up.  Speak the truth with love to those who need to hear it, always be willing to learn something new, spread joy and laughter whenever you have the opportunity, serve others in need, be fearless when you see something that needs doing, have  grace for those who are struggling. And most of all, love unconditionally as Christ loves us. 

JANA:  As we leave today, we want you to know the last thing Mom said before she died. She called Dad over to her bedside, grabbed his hand, and said, “Don’t screw up!” So, that’s the charge -- our marching orders.  This life is fleeting – don’t screw up.

About Roman Polanski...

I'd thought about commenting on this, but then I read this article by Kate Harding and realized that there was really nothing more to say:

Roman Polanski raped a child. Let's just start right there, because that's the detail that tends to get neglected when we start discussing whether it was fair for the bail-jumping director to be arrested at age 76, after 32 years in "exile" (which in this case means owning multiple homes in Europe, continuing to work as a director, marrying and fathering two children, even winning an Oscar, but never -- poor baby -- being able to return to the U.S.).

I'd like to thank Kate for writing this, for those of us who know and love 13 year-old girls and wish to nurture and protect them.  It cuts straight to the heart of the matter and it's really all that need be said.  Well, except the fact that her Daddy should have disposed of this piece of trash a long time ago.  Read the whole thing and when anyone defends this pedophile, don't forget for a minute what they're defending and keep score.

Smacking. Because it Works.

Sorry.  Can't resist posting this article, Smacking hits kids' IQ.

So you swat the kiddies and their IQ drops about 5 points.  Really?  Just the 5?  I'm trying to figure the down side here. 

Later the article admits that really, reading to the kiddies is most important.   So what is the over and under on smacking while reading to them?  Inquiring minds want to know.

Dear children:  I smacked you often, but we also had great times together reading quality literature.  The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry, and the The Big Hungry Bear.

If I smack the kid every other page? 

Just Cause

Crystal posted this picture on Facebook from Levi's game last night.  Thought I'd share: 

Yeah. I got tired of the nicknames.  Like Mom didn't already give up everyone's name in the comments. 

Update:  Just in case you missed it, they're praying.  "Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight..." 

Now What?

There has been a good deal of ink spilled over the Time cover, "Is Your Baby Racist?".  Much has been made of the contentions of the authors, for good reason, but after reading the article I have two observations that I think have not been made due to the outrage surrounding the article itself. 

My youngest two children spent their K-6 years being homeschooled in what might be considered a multicultural haven.  We have a very diverse neighborhood and many times my kids were the only white kids at our house.  Not to put to fine a point on it, but their best friends in 6th and 7th grade, respectively, were not white. 

We didn't spend a lot of time discussing race issues at our house.  If it came up, it came up.  If it didn't, who cared?  One of the ideas behind the article is that we all need to talk about race, differences, and inclusion to make it happen.  I never did and we had a virtual politically correct Saturday morning cartoon of races represented here on any given Sunday.

That gradually changed to some extent as soon as I sent my kids to public school.  Some of their friends went to another junior high.  Some of their friends continued to home school.  Perhaps instead of it being the parents, it's the school and the other kids and their attitudes that influence these things.  Perhaps your group is simply those you spend the most time with?

Certainly we all say we want our kids to be colorblind and not notice race, but to judge people by the content of their character and treat them accordingly.  It's most assuredly what I wanted to achieve as a parent, but given the context of the culture we live in today could that end up to be partially a bad thing for my kids and their friends?  It was tonight.

My daughter and one of her best buddies from the cheer team, still in their cheer outfits from the volleyball game,  were in dining room making posters.  Not that it should make any difference, her friend is black.  But it did make a difference, you see.  My son walked in the back door, saw them working on their posters, and joked, "We don't want your kind here!!"

As my two kids laughed at my son's joke, the look on the friend's face was amazingly awful.  For a few agonizing seconds, she had absolutely no idea he was talking about cheerleaders.  They had absolutely no clue, until I pointed it out to them later,  that she didn't immediately realize it was a cheerleader joke. 

She did nothing wrong.  They did nothing wrong, but it's something I'm going to be thinking about for quite some time.   I don't want my kids to spend their lives tip-toeing through a minefield, worrying how people will take every comment.  On the other hand, I don't want them accidentally hurting other's feelings because they're completely oblivious to the fact that there are possible mines to be stepped on. 

Fun Times 5.5.09 Edition

This weekend Veritas, Val, and I planted flowers and worked on the beds in front of my house.  I call it The Class of 2009:

 
Val said, "And look!  All freshman again this year!" 

Veritas said, "How about Death Row 2009?"

I did, however, have two sophomores and planted more of the hearty little things.   Happily they were my favorites from Granny's garden:



While we were busy working, Vision was going to the prom.  This is her with her best friend, Rachel:

 

The sling adds a certain something, does it not? 

This evening I took Willard and his girlfriend, Autumn, to the band banquet:



Those of you who know Willard will get a chuckle out of the fact that his left arm is behind his back because he's hiding the Dr. Pepper he's holding. 

When he was getting dressed he said, "My pants are too tight.  I'm getting fat."

I said, "What are you up too now, porky?  33" waist?  You're huge!!"

I actually thought about posting these because my cousin, Shaila, had posted pictures of her son's prom on her blog.  She also posted pictures of her son before he left for a cheer banquet, and he was very California casual.  I was cussing them both for having it so easy while I was pressing Willard's shirt and suit last night, let me tell ya!

The pumpkin called Sunday to say, "Has anyone got the swine flu at your house, Granny?"

I said, "Nope.  But Willard smells like the swine flu!"

She started giggling and said, "I think that's what you have, Dad!"

She's only 4, but she's already got the family wit.   

Interesting...

I've never made a secret of the fact that I think far too many women have unrealistic, completely irrational expectations for their men and make themselves and their men miserable in the process.  Men are far from perfect, but in these politically correct times we don't often hear about women's imperfections.   Let's face it, we're all sinners in need of grace, are we not?

Three or four years ago there was an email circulating about a men's survivor series where the men had to do all the things that Moms do or be voted off the island and like most of you, I read it and laughed.  And then it irritated me, because Dads do a great deal for their children, many times they are literally unsung heros, and if a man wrote a similar email about Moms he'd be voted, well, off the island.

So I wrote one myself.  To this day, even when I wasn't blogging, it remains the most read item I've ever written.  So here's a blurb and a link:

Six married women will be dropped on an island with a car and 4 kids each for 6 weeks. 

Each woman will be required to change the oil, replace the spark plugs, and fix two flats on the vehicle during the 6 weeks.  The women will also need to call a mechanic, explain in terms understandable to the mechanic the problem, and discuss possible solutions.  She’ll need to drop the car off, pick it up, and have an intelligent discussion with said mechanic.  Mechanics vote the first woman off the island.

There is no grocery store.  The women must stalk and kill wild game, gut it, skin it, and cook it over a camp fire built with wood they’ve gathered with their own two hands.   

Each woman must take care of her 4 kids, erect a shelter using tree limbs, insist the kids help as part of an extra credit school project, correct children’s unrealistic attitudes, teach the boys how to deal with a bully, explain to the girls about men, and barter with another woman to enhance her home or life with no tangible goods exchanged.

Each woman will have to fix a toilet with duct tape, a butter knife, and plumber’s putty & do it while a man pisses, moans, and threatens to move in with his mother in the process.

Fun Times 4.26.09 Edition

I was cleaning out the car this afternoon and walked into the house to get some paper towels.  Vision looked at me and said, "Mom, are you okay?!?"

Just as I was going to reply, Willard walked by and said, "When you work really hard, Vision, you get this thing called 'sweat'.  You've probably never seen it before."

Just A Few More Pictures That Crack Me Up

My daughter-in-law, Veronica, was taking pictures of the pumpkin in their front yard in a tree.  Very cute:

 

Then she noticed the ants:

Being the ham she is, she tries to suck it up and continue to take pictures, but it's a pained experience:

I'm trying!  I really am.  But...ANTS!!!

Fun Times 4.25.09 Edition

I'm not a very good wife and mother.  I didn't post a thing about MrG or Viagra's birthday.  Fortunately, Mom did.  MrG here and Viagra here with this picture I love of the pumpkin and Viagra:

MrG is a redhead and Viagra got the white skin and the freckles, just not the red hair.  Then he married a redhead and it was no surprise that we had this adorable little redheaded pumpkin. 

Everyone has always speculated on why MrG and I have no redheaded kiddos, but I have no redheads in the extended family and a good deal of Indian blood.  I think my dominant genes canceled it out for my kids, but boy aren't their spouses going to be surprised by the crop of red we end up with in the grandchildren department?  Perhaps not as my oldest daughter, Val, is currently dating a redhead.  Willard's girlfriend is a redhead.  They seem determined, do they not?

Last summer, I became very, very tanned.  Very, very quickly.  That is what people with Indian genes do.  Val, Vision, and Willard do the same thing.  Like Viagra, Veritas has MrG's tanning abilities, which is to say, they turn red.  The Mexican lady who cleans our office came in and re-introduced herself to me.  I said, "Mary!  It's me.  Lana!"

And she said, "You don't look like no white girl!  What happened to you??"

A few days later I went over to see all the landscaping Viagra and Veronica had done in their front yard.  Keep in mind they are all so, so pale.  The pumpkin grabbed my hand, drug me into the garage, and exclaimed, "Granny!  What happened to you?  You're black!"

And as Mary so kindly pointed out, "Except your face.  You really need to do something about that makeup."

Fun Times! 4.19.09 Edition

So I talked to my sister, Henny, last night.  She met some of our favorite cousins, Mel and Mas, for lunch.  Apparently they made much fun of me for getting the date wrong; color me shocked that those three would make a million jokes at my expense.  Also, they made many of the jokes in back and forth email before Saturday just so I wouldn't miss out on the all the jesting at my expense.  They're giving like that.

Henny also wanted me to know that my adorable niece and nephew remember Aunt Lana.  It seems Hogie and Uncle B were at the store the other day and Hogie said, "Can we get some powdered donuts?"

Uncle B bought the powdered donuts, but since they never buy them was completely mystified at the request itself.  Henny was not and immediately asked, "Hogie, when did you have powdered donuts?"

"At Aunt Lana's house!"

She then put him on the phone so he could tell me himself and being a Mrs. Baird's brand snob, I actually asked if they got the good kind? 

"Oh yes, Aunt Lana.  We got the white ones!"

Yes.  I know.  I'm a brand snob about almost nothing, but I'm a purist when it comes to powdered donuts.  My maiden name is Hogan.  We Hogans are serious about our junk food.  Don't even get me started about the knock off Cheetos.

Then Henny said Ella might just have had a bonding moment with me also.  At the ripe old age of 2, Ella has renounced the use of honorifics and only calls me "Lana", but it's a sweet, delightful, sing-songy "Lana" that conveys the love, so I won't hold it against her. 

As Henny related, "I don't know if this is fact or fiction, but she keeps singing this song she assures me she learned from Laannna."

Raise your hand if you know me well enough to know that she most definitely learned this song at my house, regardless of what it is.  Raise your hand if you're surprised my sister even questioned it.  This is the same sister that invited me to help her with a teen camp, we were registering people together at the sign in, and eventually someone said, "Say anything!  ANYTHING!  They will find a way to sing a song about it!"

I was already laughing since I was pretty sure I knew what it was, "How does it go?"

"Its' Peanut Butter Jelly Time!  Peanut Butter Jelly Time!  Peanut Butter Jelly Time!  There ya go!  There ya go!"

"Never heard of it!"

In fact, we only watched it and sang it approximately 2000 times, give or take.  As I only see the little devils once every couple of months, I am thrilled I made an impression and they think about their Aunt Lana.  Also clear?  Since we're all related, food association is a great bonus in the bonding process. 

Mel stopped by on his way home to San Antonio to visit with me for a few hours.  This would be my cousin with the many degrees, at least one in history.  I don't know what the others are, but I believe they qualify him to win on Jeopardy!  for approximately 2 years or until they run out of questions and cancel the show.  At least, that's how his brother Mark tells it.

I know the kiddies will never forget the walking tour we took of The Alamo with Uncle Cousin Mel.  After waiting outside in the heat, in the middle of July for an hour, we finally entered The Alamo and Mel called us over for the first of his impromptu history and trivia lectures:

"You do realize why the Texans and the Mexicans fought to the death here on this sacred ground?  It was the only place in Texas with air conditioning."

My other favorite quote, "Be aware these are the original fire extinguishers."

As Mel was leaving, I was, of course, giving him crap because he hasn't sent me a funny email in months.  Then I apologized, "Well who am I to complain?  I don't think I've sent you a funny email in months either!"

And Mel said, "But I do read your blog!  Love the new picture.  Mark told me you were blogging again."

Mark?  Um, Mark???  Mark is his older brother and the total emails I've received from Mark, funny or otherwise, would total approximately 5.  Since the invention of email.  And that's a generous estimation of our ongoing correspondence.  Although I must say the nicest email I received was actually from Mark and if my computer hadn't crashed I'd still have it saved.   

 However, the last one-on-one time I spent with Mark, and not in a Robbie Benson way, was when we were both visiting his brother Mike in New York.  (Yes, I have noticed our family displays the disturbing tendency to start all siblings' names with the same letter or have them rhyme.  Now guess what my sister's real name is.  Hint:  Not Henny.)

But back to New York, Mark had a debilitating back issue, causing him to be in extreme pain and also in a wheel chair on the return trip.  As we happened to have the same flights, we flew together so that I could help Mark make it back to Texas in one piece.  As I was pushing the wheelchair the entire time, I'm not certain he returned in one piece, but I remember hoping he had some really good pain meds to make up for the fact that he was stuck with me as his in-flight health assistant. 

The last time we hung out he had no choice and was on drugs.  Forgive me for being just a wee bit surprised that he carefully follows my blog, but based on my dumbfounded look and question, "Mark reads my blog?!?!?"

Mel explained, "Aunt Wilma makes him."

"???"

"She says he needs to "bust a gut" laughing every morning, so he has to read your blog."

Potentially, that is a lot of pressure.  It all depends on whether he's supposed to be laughing with me or at me, does it not?  If it's with me, I'm now responsible for making a financial planner and broker, in this economy, giggle every morning.  If it's at me, well then.  No worries. 

As an aside, who else is reading this blog because my mother made you do it? 

Fun Times 4.18.09 Edition

Willard placed 6th in discus at the Varsity district track meet, qualifying him to letter in track as a freshman.  He's pretty excited about that last part needless to say.  Or as he said, "I get a letterman!"

And I said, "What will we do with him when get him and where will he sleep?"

Vision made the Varsity cheer squad at tryouts last night.  How is this possible with her arm in a sling?  Since she was incapacitated, they agreed to use her scores from last year.  My new blog picture is the pumpkin and I waiting with Vision at the school last night, having a little fun until the results came in. 

The pumpkin explained her stay in the hospital to several people like this, "I was sick at the hospital for NINE DAYS!  I had ammonia.   They put a IV and a tube in my side so I couldn't get away.  I got shots every day!"

Clearly, she's still pretty ticked off about the whole experience.  The pumpkin also spent the night.  When we picked her up, Viagra put her in the car and said, "You be good for Granny and Ninnin."

She just looked at him tiredly and said, "Yes suh!"

After he closed the door and we drove off, she said in an exasperated voice, "I'm always good for you, Granny.  Why doesn't he understand that?  I just don't know why he doesn't understand that!"

I said, "I have no idea, sweetie!"

At the same time Vision said, "Cause we'll spank you if you aren't good?"

Pumpkin said, "NO!  I hate spankins."

::Pause::

"I'm always good for you, Granny."

Vision and I just laughed. 

We got up this morning, made pancakes, and then went to our soon to be new grandson's baby shower.  He's due on June 24th.  His name is going to be "Nash".  Not being overly fond of this name, I'm hoping he'll be cute enough for it grow on me.  With the way his Daddy and his sister looked for the first year of their lives, I'm not really counting on that to happen.  Let's just say they grew into their amazing looks that second year of life. 

The other night, we were talking about this name, "Nash", and Willard says, "Is it's middle name going to be Steve?"

The funniest part, at least to me, is that they have these letters to hang on the wall that spell out "NASH".  When Veronica isn't looking, Viagra sneaks into the baby's room and rearranges them to spell "HANS". 

So, ja!  That's our news for the day.

Tea Part-AY in Belton, TX 4.15.09

Today we attended the Tea Party in our little community of about 25,000 people.  My oldest daughter, Val, is the President of the Young Republicans in Bell County and Mr. G and I showed up to help her pass out programs and take pictures.  The organizers were expecting around 500 people.  The final count was over 2,000.  As I was uploading the pictures I named the folder "Tea Party" but then realizing it would probably not be the last, added the date.  This was a fine start!

Pretty good turn out for a Wednesday afternoon rally that started at 4:00, before most people's work day is over:

But not everyone, as these ladies pointed out.  I just wandered around asking if I could take people's pictures and ya gotta love Texas 'cause everyone was enthusiastic about mugging it up for posterity.   Texas is a conservative, freedom loving state and we had the signs to prove it:

Odd fact.  This is the engineer from a job Mr. G is currently working on.  There were people today from all walks of life.  I saw a doctor get off a Harley, tuck his helmet under his arm, still in his scrubs, to attend.  Having been around the hospital in the last few  months, first with the pumpkin's stay and then Vision's surgery I've noticed the coolest fact about doctors in Texas.  The vast majority wear boots with their scrubs.  Is this a great state or what?

More great Texas Tea Party Signs:

As many have noted, there are young and old at these Tea Parties, but this mother and son especially caught my eye.  He's the little red head in the right bottom corner:

And here's his sign!

Okay, I'll just stop commenting now and let the great Americans from the great state of Texas have their say:

Many flags.  This one said "Liberty".  Tons of American flags and patriotic shirts, hats, pins, etc. 

And there were quite a few signs on this most excellent theme:

 

  This sign says, "Texas OUR Texas...Preserve the Heritage our Founding Fathers Fought For!"

This being Texas, obligatory reference to our first flag and fight for independence from Mexico; a lone star, THE cannon, and the defiant words, "Come And Take It":

Shot of the crowd.  Most had tea bags hanging everywhere.  On their signs, on their glasses, waving them, attached to hats, clipped to shirts.  Tea bags everywhere:

Bless her heart, her spelling is almost as bad as mine, but her heart is in exactly the right place:

 

Note the newsbabe in the background.  She interviewed several in the crowd but also spent half her time interviewing the 12-15 counter protesters and eventually set up her camera between the two groups in the sign face-off.  More about that later.  Back to the signs:

Then the "right-wing extremists" showed up and obviously, I got a little nervous:

  Boo!

And doesn't that say it all?  I loved this lady because she's got the patriotic outfit and as an added bonus, the little Betsy Ross cap.  What's not to love?

  

Among my favorites of the entire day:

Just ordinary, happy people wondering what is going to happen to their country with this kind of spending and more importantly, what is going to happen to their children and their grandchildren who are being forced to shoulder this debt. 

 

And they've had quite enough, thank you very much:

 

 

This might be my favorite sign:

The Protest of the Tea Party Protest

So.  Yeah.  About 15-20 people showed up to counter our Tea Party/Tax Day Rally with signs of their own.  Hey, it's a free country.  Loved the one that says," Tantrums Equal Anti-American".  So it's okay NOW that Obama's in charge to question people's patriotism?  Check!  Also loved the Insani-Tea.  No argument really, just, you're crazy! Take that!  I don't really get the, "Don't Pee On My Leg and Call it Tea", thing:

But urine figured in on this sign on the right as well, so this pee-pee meme could take off.  You're peeing on me.  _____________?  Obama!!!  Plus this middle sign, which is short and sweet, much like President "I won", "You guys lost.  Get over it."  Just like you guys in 2000?  We'll get right on that. 

They'd perched on a slight incline behind us and after our tea party was over the crowd turned to leave and the counter-protesters were directly in the path of the perhaps crazed, possibly violent, could turn ugly at the drop of an economic down turn right-wing extremists who also believe in God, life, and border enforcement.  Even the ones with strollers and toddlers, because this insaniti-TEA fest is close to Ft. Hood and you just don't have ANY IDEA how many disgruntled veterans may be running around giving combat tips, when strollers attack lessons, and paramilitary training to parents, children and the elderly .  We had scads of veterans and insane folks, who like the founding fathers were fairly pissy about federal spending and oh so radical about state and local rights.  I felt fairly certain, based on the recent Department of Homeland Security report of the Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy (Hey Hillary! Good to see you again!  Nice pantsuit!  Who's your new friend Janet?)  that it would end in mayhem and bloodshed. 

I can still hear the tormented screams of the counter-protesters as they were crushed under the stroller wheels.  I will never forget the shrieking as the stampeding grannies beat them with signs, and also that goth girl whose shriveled them as they fell with a dark look of indifference.   I'd guess they pee'd themselves as they fell, but that would be tacky. 

But seriously, there was this interesting sign face off.  The tea party attendees walked until they were about 10 yards from the counter-protesters and then they did the unthinkable.  I was hiding behind a tree.  They brandished their signs:

And then the dread God talk, "Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord, Psalms 33:12".  Terrifying indeed!  

As they faced each other off I did so want to yell, "Red Rover, Red Rover, Let the Liberals Come Over!!"

Amazingly enough, they just flashed their signs at one another and called it a day.  Another day in the republic if we choose to keep it.  Mr. G pointed out the only really troubling thing about the counter-protesters. Practically no American flags.  Why don't these folks self-identify as proud Americans?  This is the most amazing country, of endless opportunity, in the history of the world.  Even when we don't like the direction of any administration, when and how did we manage to forget we are the most blessed people on earth to live here and wave our signs and flags? 

When, exactly, did we as a nation stop being Americans first? Fighting about things?  Sure.   Taking it outside the family?  I don't get that.  At least in Texas, I felt confident that I could have walked over to the counter-protesters, introduced myself, taken pictures, and had a fine time.  I didn't think for a minute that if my car wouldn't start after the rally, any one of them wouldn't have given me a boost, handed me a cell phone, or given me a ride home.  This is Texas, after all.  I'm not so confident about the rest of the nation.  I hope I'm wrong. 

And just to dot the i's and cross the t's there was this lady:

In so many ways she's right on the money!   People were confused by her dual message, but I think she had it just right.  We let Bush get away with all this spending and now Obama's taking it on the World Road Tour!!!  Republicans have contributed to this mess, no question.  The Democrats are worse, don't get me wrong, but it is only a matter of degree.  If you've been electing the bums of either party, throw them out!  It's the only way we'll survive as a nation. 

Seriously?

Let me see if I understand this correctly.  North Korea launches a long range missile and one of the few cuts we can possibly "afford" in Obama's gargantuan budget is in...missile defense.

Is it just me or is our current President attempting the heretofore impossible goal of actually rehabilitating Jimmy Carter's prestige on the world stage?

And to my fellow Americans who elected this dope and change.  Congratulations!  It's landing soon in a city near you! 

Assume the position. 

Fun Times 4.5.09 Edition

Vision is doing great.  Well, teenager great.  She got up Saturday, took a shower, got dressed and planned her day as if she hadn't had surgery the day before.  She was done with the ice pack Saturday evening, slept all night with no meds, and got up Sunday griping about the fact that she was stuck in this house and just needed to get out and DO something.  Nevermind that Veritas came home and the entire bunch was here Saturday night watching movies 'til midnight.  Nevermind that everyone came back over for lunch Sunday and we had a fish fry.  So, we girls all went to Target and Vision was perfectly happy shopping. She was also perfectly happy while we watched the movie,"Twilight".

Veritas is not perfectly happy with Twilight.  She thinks, and I tend to agree, that Edward acts like a creepy stalker for the entire movie.  And, what kind of movie makes teenage girls adore and embrace creepy stalkers?  My guess would be this:

Teenage girls want someone to love them, often in a manner just shy of creepy stalker, they love the bad boys, but they also want the bad boy to love them so much they stop being bad boys, or vampires as the case may be, just because they love the girl so much they're willing to become good creepy stalkers. 

Which isn't a great improvement, but it's back within the realm of normal teenage interaction, is it not?  The teenage boy is simulateously torn between his own rampaging desires that potentially destroy the one he loves and loving her enough to do the right thing against all his instincts.  How many could possibly get this right?

Back to the movie, my literal daughter, Valentine said, "He's going to have to turn her into a vampire eventually because he's 17.  A few more years of him eternally 17 and her growing older and she's a child molester."

Bingo!

Tonight Vision's testy and back with the ice, because she hates the sling and sleeping on her back is seriously hacking her off.  Notice, there isn't much grousing about actual pain.  It's all about irritation and discomfort, so I'd say she's in excellent shape for the shape she's in.

As an aside, I'd like to mention my personal favorite "sick" moment.  I was home with Daddy.  I had the flu.  It was Sunday morning. Mom and Hen had gone on to church.  Daddy was feeding me fudge bars and asprin in the living room and we were watching "Lassy."  Frustrated with the plot pace, Daddy finally looked at me, looked at the television, and announced to Timmy, "It's Lassy, you dumbass, go with her."

Even as I type that, it brings a smile to my face.  As I keep telling my children, life is about the humor and the gratitude.  It's good to laugh every day.  It's good to appreciate all the blessings you have every day.  Are we not called to be of good cheer and count our blessings? 

Also, don't be a dumbass.

Fun Times 4.3.09 Edition

April 1st, 2009.  Due to three of my children being diabolically excellent at April Fool's Jokes, this might actually qualify as the worst hypothetical day of my life.  It was only hypothetical because none of it was true, of course.  Too bad I found that out way late in the day.  The day I found out Valentine was forced into a shotgun marriage due to an unplanned pregnancy and my husband knew all about it but refused to tell me.  The day Veritas announced she'd be spending the summer in an unwed mother's home in Virginia.  The day Willard brought home the note announcing his removal from class by security because he refused to leave and called the teacher vile names under his breath. 

Also.  Happy.  Freakin'.  26th. Anniversary. 

I just want to get this down for posterity and also as a reminder of the fabulous and hilarious jokes I can help my grandchildren play on their parents.  Please send any and all truly awful ideas.  I'm so up for it.

The pumpkin spent the night last night.  We were laying in bed.  I was hoping she would finally go to sleep.  She was hoping she would be able to talk all night.  The TV was on and that Ambien commerical came on.  You know the one where the lady keeps waking up in the middle of the night with a rooster crowing at just the wrong time?

And the pumpkin says, "We need to get that!"

And I said, "Ambien?!?"

And she said, "Yeah!  Ambien."

And I said, "Er, Why?"

And she said, "Cause if you don't have it, Granny, chickens come and sleep with you!"

As opposed to pumpkins?

Vision had day surgery today.  Her shoulder has been a mess for her this last year.  Resting it hasn't helped, not tumbling and doing the triple throw down zip spin back flip hasn't helped, physical therapy hasn't helped, so we did all the doctor stuff you do before they tell you she needs a scope. 

We had the scope today.  The pumpkin was mad that we wouldn't let her go to the hospital with us this morning and dropped her off at home on the way.  That's a miracle, 'cause she said she was never going back to the hospital for any reason.  She loves her Aunt Ninnin, I guess, or was eager to find new reasons to yell at doctors.

Vision is doing well so far.  According to the doctors, this is a really painful surgery so I'm concerned, but Vision is tough as a boot, as evidenced by that fact that she's hacked off at me because I wouldn't let her go to the movies tonight with her best friend.  As far as she's concerned, she's fine.  We'll wait for the universal pain block to wear down in order to make an official call, but she's in the living room watching "10 Things I Hate About You" with Veritas and Rachel, so she's in pretty good shape.   

Pray for a good weekend.  I know I am!

Great, Just Great!

Via Hot Air and please do read the whole thing, we find Representative Paul Ryan "explaining" his vote to tax 90% of  AIG employees' bonuses.  It seems he just didn't realize the bill was completely and totally against everything the founding fathers fought and died for:

“Now, that I know - which I didn’t at the time - that this is unconstitutional, I wouldn’t have voted the same way,” Ryan said during a taping of C-Span’s “Newsmakers” on Thursday - the show is set to air on Sunday. POLITICO was one of the participants in the Ryan interview.

Seriously?  Seriously??  Thanks, Wally.  Here's a thought.  Try reading The United States Constitution since you've been elected to, um, you know, understand what the hell it says and vote on bills accordingly.   It's only the fate of the country at stake.  Perhaps you should stop blaming the Democrats for rushing this legislation through and pay attention to your own vote?  Here's a clue.  If Code Pink is in total agreement with you, you're missing something.  Find it. 

Leave It To Beaver Act

Since Congress is now in the business of passing insane, unconstitutional bills like taxing 90% of AIG employees bonuses retroactively, I might as well propose my own insane, unconstitutional bill to make mandatory the showing in prime time of "Leave It To Beaver" episodes that involve Eddie Haskell.  These will, of course, preempt March Madness, American Idol, 24, and most especially the Lifetime and WE channels because women voted in droves for our new President and Democrats in general.  Thanks gals!  You're children and grandchildren will be so proud while they're standing in the soup lines wondering what happened to the American Dream you so carelessly tossed away by voting for these idiots.  They promised they'd respect you in the morning, didn't they?  Bless your heart.

We've elected Eddie Haskell President of the United States.  He's blown Mr. And Mrs. American Cleaver's skirt up with his long, smiley string of BS and they think he's actually a nice, clean kid.  (Also, Joe Biden.)  In reality, he's a smarmy manipulator who hasn't met a lie he won't tell, a dodge he won't take, or responsibility he won't pass off so long as the fault lies with anyone or everyone but President Eddie. 

I've often asked myself, what in the hell was Wally thinking hanging out with this joker?  Well Wally is every Republican who kept tiptoeing around the disaster that is President Eddie and his plans, his stimulus, his budget, and his audacity of obsfucation since President Eddie is just so darn popular because he's totally snowed Mom and Dad.  What kind of elected official is willing to throw his principals, his judgement, and his character under the bus to suck up to President Eddie and the howling mob he's created?  Wally Republicans, or the 98 "my career over my country" House politicians who hide behind the Republican brand, but are scared to tell President Eddie, the Democrats in Congress, and their constituent outrage to shove this unconstituional bill where the sun don't shine.  Yes, Eric Cantor and Joe Barton, I'm looking at you. 

Which leaves us with the small, but sane Beaver conservatives who never once quit asking about President Eddie, "Can YOU BELIEVE THIS GUY?!?!?!"

If you aren't a Beaver conservative you are the problem.  You're letting President Eddie get away with his baloney and the entire country will suffer an even more enormous cost than it is already going to suffer now.  Stop going along with it already and tell Mr. Cleaver in clear terms exactly what President Eddie is up to.  The Beave would do it. 

It took Mrs. Cleaver a much longer time to figure out what a gas bag Eddie was and this is why I'm proposing my new bill.  If Americans actually see President Eddie in action on "Leave It To Beaver" reruns, they will quickly recognize President Eddie, that they've been had, that Wally is of little use, and they will embrace the Beave.

Gee Willackers, America!  President Barack "Eddie Haskell" Obama has no clothes!

If you've read this and have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, isn't it about time you watched a few episodes of "Leave It To Beaver"?  I offer this solution to a media driven culture with a 30 minute attention span that has been educated in public schools.  Even they can figure out Eddie Haskell.

As a much superior alternative, I'd also recommend reading The Constitution of the United States of America and The Federalist Papers, but hey, your call.  Dr. Franklin didn't call it, “A Republic, if you can keep it," because he was pressed for time and forgot to TIVO Battlestar Galactica.   

A Funny For Veritas From...Your Mom

So Valentine walks into the mall one night last month and sees Willard's buddies, Max and Jake, loitering by the door.  Val says, "Hey guys, who ya lookin' for?"

And they both say, "Your Mom!!"

Val laughs and says, "Seriously, what are you guys doin'?"

"Waitin' on Your Mom!!"

Val, of course, gets that investigator look on her face as if these poor boys have been reduced to calling the neighbors to pick them up at the mall due to child neglect.  Sensing this, the boys burst into laughter and say, "Willard ran around the corner to hide when we saw you coming in.  We're really waiting on your Mom!"

The pumpkin was over tonight.  She's almost her normal self and it is so good to see. I haven't seen her in over a week since  I was sick last week and she doesn't need to be around anyone who is sick according to sane people everywhere.  What with the fact that she'd just come home from the hospital, it's been hard, but I was finally well and we went out for ice cream last night.  Fun times!  She was adamant that she would also come over this morning, but I had to work and the kiddies had to go to school, so I told her she could come over Friday.  I was surprised when they dropped by tonight. 

She was busy giving me crap this evening, dontcha know.  My guess is, bouyed by her new healthiness she needs her sarcasm, joke outlet, and dance partner back.   We were eating and she said, "It tastes like...(cuts her eyes at me)...old woman!"

Yeah, she's back with bells on.  She insisted on spending the night again, but I told her, "This weekend baby girl!"

And I walked her to the car, we sang about the moon and chased our shadows, and she said, "I love you Granny."

It just doesn't get any better than that.  Well, the part where she had NSYNC "Bye, Bye, Bye" playing on Vision's Ipod, convinced Willard to dance for her, and Vision recorded it and posted it up on MySpace was almost that good.  As I said, Fun Times!

Her Mommy informs  me that they were discussing where the pumpkin would go to college and she said, "I guess I'll go to pawtown!"

Keep workin' in, Veritas.  I think you've got a convert!  I'm assuming, however, that she believes you'll still be there.  Chilling, that.

Speaking of chilling, Willard came in fourth, fourth in the high jump this evening at the freshman track meet.  This would be the event that allowed him a varsity spot.  Sigh.   He slipped and slid in his second jump for 5'10 and never recovered.  He won the disc walking away, even beating at least one varsity qualifying score and just practicing these last three weeks.  Bishop says if he keeps it up he'll definitely get a track scholarship.  Given these dismal economic times, I'm overjoyed with that possibility.

As I told my Daddy this evening, I bet you never in your wildest dreams thought you'd have a grandkid in college on a track scholarship.  What ARE the odds?  Daddy mentioned the milkman...twice. 

Ouch!  Am I that clumsy?  Nevermind. 

Kitty Update

Again, thanks for all the prayers, calls, and emails.  Our Kitty is home from the hospital this evening!  Praise God!  The difference between what the doctors were saying on Monday to what they were saying on Thursday has been like night and day.  We are very thankful and joyous today. 

Also, we are very mindful of the other children we saw and met in the ICU who do not have such a promising prognosis today.  And isn't it just like God to meet us in our time of crisis, wrap his arms around us, love us, and gently remind us to count our many blessings all at the same time?  

Baby Kitty Kat Update

Thanks for all the prayers! The baby kitty is doing better today.  The doctors believe they have killed the bacteria, her tube is draining much less fluid today which means much less fluid in her lung, and she's acting a little like our  kitty.  They moved her out of ICU.

She played with play-doh, grinned quite a bit, stood up for 2 minutes,  and finally began eating again.  All good news!  They are trying to get her to blow to help her lung function and have offered her bubbles and bubble gum.  She rejected the bubbles because "I can't blow bubbles!" but tried blowing bubble gum bubbles because "Ninnin can do it!"

The best/worst part of the day, according to her mommy, was they got her a favorite CD, Taylor Swift, and while shopping noticed a whistle.  What a fun thing to blow into, right?  She whistled the entire "Love Story" song.  They are thrilled she's blowing into the whistle of course, but it's not exactly enjoyable to hear in a small hospital room.  Well, unless you're just tickled pink that your baby is starting to act like herself even if it is the most annoying noise in the entire world.  Then it's like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.

Bless her heart, I'm sure in her mind she has been tortured by all the hospital personnel and she hates them all.  You've got to be older than almost 4 to realize someone driving a needle into your arm and side are actually good things.  Willard and I went by last night and she asked Willard to sit in the chair beside the door.  We had no idea why until she looked at him out of the corner of her eye and said, "If a doctor comes, don't let him in!"

She's definitely getting better.  Keep her in your prayers.  It's going to be a long road.

Please Pray

Our 3 year-old granddaughter was admitted to the hospital on Thursday night with a severe case of pneumonia.  They were not able to halt the infection and her left lung filled up with fluid.  They transported her to the Scott and White Pediatric ICU Saturday morning in order to drain the fluid from her lung and she's there now.  This is an incredibly painful procedure for an adult, let alone a little bitty girl.  She now has a large tube sticking out of her tiny little chest and she is in a great deal of pain.

The doctors have been unable to find the right antibiotic to kill the bacteria in her lung and her lung continues to fill up with fluid as fast as they can pump it out. 

Please pray for these specific things:

1)  That the doctors are able to find the right medicine to kill the infection.  That is the most critical.

2)  That the drain they've placed in her lung pumps out the fluid better so that they don't have to put in an additional tube to drain the fluid.  As I said, it's very painful and we don't want her to endure another.

3)  That she will have as little pain and as much peace as possible during this week.  As you can imagine, she reacts to the adults around her.  Pray that everyone around her is full of faith and optimism and encouragement for her. 

4)  Pray that the next two days are as stress free and pain free as possible.  The doctors have said they will be much more aggressive in their treatment during the next two days, which means she's going to be in even more pain because of  the things they plan to do.  Lift her up during this time.

5)  Obviously, anything else God might lead you to pray for as she and her Mommy and Daddy need all the prayers they can get.  They are all hurting and exhausted, but our little kitty cat most of all.

We do have an amazing blessing in all of this.  Her doctor has actually had this same procedure with his own lung....3 times.  He is incredibly attentive to her and very compassionate about her situation.  He's made sure that she is as comfortable as they can possibly make her.  And he's been very helpful in explaining not only the medical things that are going on, but telling us all how she's feeling and what she will and won't want to do.  He's been checking on her repeatedly during the day and even came in today and sat with her for 45 minutes.  Having this man dealing with our case has been wonderful for her parents and really, all of us. 

However, glimmers of our feisty little pumpkin pop up.  Today Veritas and Vision made up a little song for her to the tune of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, because she has a little red monitor on her toe.  She's got tubes and wires everywhere.  Oxygen in her nose, IV in her arm, tube in her chest, heart monitors, blood pressure cuff on her leg, plus this thing on her toe that lights up red.  The song went something like, "Kitty, the red-toed kitty cat, had a very shiny toe, and if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows..."

And she started grinning and sang, "All of the other reindeer, told her she was pretty, brave and sweet..."  She made up several very flattering verses for herself.  Vision made her a camera video of her dog, Cooper, which made her giggle.  Veritas made her a phone video of her kitty, Twinkie, which also made her giggle.  Valentine made her a picture book of everyone, including all the cats and dogs, and she requested that the picture of her and Daddy making macaroni be the one on display today.

We are all just happy to make her happy and smile for a little bit.  Again, please pray.  The next few days are critical. 

Here We Go, Depression 2.0!

Many concerned conservatives have been urging their fellows to call their representative and voice their displeasure with the Democrats' Depression 2.0, Bankrupt America plan. 

Yet I have nothing to do.  Indeed, having sensible Congresspersons who realize what a generational threat this bill is going to be, have already declared they will not support it.  Call your Congressman?  Ha!  Last night my Congressman called me.  He informed all of us participating on the conference call that he had no intention of voting for a bill that creates little in the way of jobs, but furthers the growth and reach of government to such a degree that the very Republic is in danger.  And then he took questions for well over an hour.  This, my friends, is representative democracy at it's finest.  I'll be willing to bet it isn't happening all over the country.

From The Corner at National Review, my congressman also has a bill I DO support:

Rep. John Carter, a Texas Republican, sent out a press release earlier today about his innovative new bill:

"Rangel Rule"

All U.S. taxpayers would enjoy the same immunity from IRS penalties and interest as House Ways and Means Chairman Charles Rangel (D-NY) and Obama Administration Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner, if a bill introduced today by Congressman John Carter (R-TX) becomes law.

Carter, a former longtime Texas judge, today introduced the Rangel Rule Act of 2009, HR 735, which would prohibit the Internal Revenue Service from charging penalties and interest on back taxes against U.S. citizens. Under the proposed law, any taxpayer who wrote “Rangel Rule” on their return when paying back taxes would be immune from penalties and interest.

Thank you, Congressman Carter!

Count me shocked that the Depression 2.0 bill passed with not a single Republican vote.  I didn't think they had it in 'em.  MrG would like me to note, and I fully agree, that if they had shown this kind of united fiscal discipline when they were actually in charge of the Congress we wouldn't be in this hideous situation to begin with.  The compromising of principles and lack of leadership brought us to this day.   You finally stand together to oppose insane spending at just the moment it does absolutely no good since you're now in the minority.  Thanks guys!

I hope they've learned from their mistakes as they're fully responsible for them.  As always, we taxpayers foot the bill.  And our children.  And our grandchildren.  And our great-grandchildren. 

Now on to the Senate where Republicans can be counted on to give Obama and the Democrats cover for the socialist takeover of our country.  Do not do it, Republican Senators! Do not do it!   Or, as the Wall Street Journal puts it:

This is supposed to be a new era of bipartisanship, but this bill was written based on the wish list of every living -- or dead -- Democratic interest group. As Speaker Nancy Pelosi put it, "We won the election. We wrote the bill." So they did. Republicans should let them take all of the credit.

Thanks to Ace of Spades for this last quote. 

Compare and Contrast

God works in mysterious ways.  My cousin, Ron, sent me a link to a blog with a 90 second stick figure recap of 24, just for giggles.  It was funny, but the blog itself really interested me and I read several other posts.  As the matter of fact, I'm linking it now and thanks to Brant Hansen for his blog and this wonderful story.

Remember that Christian high school basketball team recently in the news that destroyed the opposing team and keep right on going until the final score was 100-0?  From ABC News:

A Texas high school girls basketball team has apologized for winning big. The Covenant School, a private Christian high school in Dallas, defeated Dallas Academy last week in a blowout: 100-0.

And:

During the lopsided Jan. 13 game, spectators said the Covenant School ran up the score, playing aggressive offense, even with their 59-0 lead at halftime. The girls kept on the pressure until they scored the 100th point.

The Dallas Academy, a small private school with 20 girls, is for students with learning disabilities. With eight girls on the varsity team, these young women are used to challenges on and off the court. Despite hours in the gym practicing each week, the Bulldogs haven't won a girls basketball game in five years.

I wanted to write about this earlier in the week, because both my older kids played on teams with 8 players at the varsity level.  The basketball teams weren't as bad as the 8 player football team, needless to say, but we've lost nearly as ugly here at the guillotine.  I'm a sports fan, so I understand playing the kids hard and working not only for the current game but also the next game.  I can understand Covenant up to the half, but beyond that, what the hell were they thinking? 

What Covenant did to Dallas Academy was unsportsmanlike, tacky, and at the very least, beneath the values that Christian parents hope for when they send their kids to private school hoping to take care of their children's academic and moral training.  Not a single player came out a winner in this game, as Covenant showed absolutely no class, let alone Christ-like qualities. 

After reading about that game, imagine my delight in coming across this story at Letters from Kamp Krusty.  It seems a Christian football team from Grapevine, Texas decided to do the right thing and their coach initiated it.  This is a Christian school I'd want my kids to attend:

It was rivers running uphill and cats petting dogs. More than 200 Faith fans sat on the Gainesville side and kept cheering the Gainesville players on—by name.

"I never in my life thought I'd hear people cheering for us to hit their kids," recalls Gainesville's QB and middle linebacker, Isaiah. "I wouldn't expect another parent to tell somebody to hit their kids. But they wanted us to!"

Who were these Gainesville boys?

But then you saw the 12 uniformed officers escorting the 14 Gainesville players off the field and two and two started to make four. They lined the players up in groups of five—handcuffs ready in their back pockets—and marched them to the team bus. That's because Gainesville is a maximum-security correctional facility 75 miles north of Dallas. Every game it plays is on the road.

This all started when Faith's head coach, Kris Hogan, wanted to do something kind for the Gainesville team. Faith had never played Gainesville, but he already knew the score. After all, Faith was 7-2 going into the game, Gainesville 0-8 with 2 TDs all year. Faith has 70 kids, 11 coaches, the latest equipment and involved parents. Gainesville has a lot of kids with convictions for drugs, assault and robbery—many of whose families had disowned them—wearing seven-year-old shoulder pads and ancient helmets.

So Hogan had this idea. What if half of our fans—for one night only—cheered for the other team? He sent out an email asking the Faithful to do just that. "Here's the message I want you to send:" Hogan wrote. "You are just as valuable as any other person on planet Earth."

Do yourself a favor and find out what it meant to the Gainesville boys by reading the whole thing.  

God's talking to us every day.  Coach Hogan was listening and everyone was a winner that night. 

In the Midst of WWIV, Depression 2.0?

Peter Kirsanow at National Review Online: 

So . . . we're going to have a tax cheat in charge of the IRS, a man instrumental in the pardoning of terrorists as top terrorism watchdog, and a woman whose husband gets tens of millions from foreign governments in charge of implementing foreign policy.

 

Also from Andy McCarthy, links to two articles on the gigantic, horrifying, wasteful, and useless "stimulus" package, Depression 2.0, that is about to be crammed down our throats by the Democrats.  The first from Conn Carroll at Heritage: 

Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) yesterday told Politico: “Yes, we wrote the bill. Yes, we won the election.” The House bill perfectly demonstrates how the left is using the economic stimulus bill as cover to accomplish its long-held desire to permanently increase the size of the federal government, with little or no benefit to the American taxpayer.

Today’s top six disastrous highlights..

After reading that, check out Connie Hair's article at Human Events:

The Democrat “stimulus” bill -- a bill that was created behind closed doors by Democrat leadership who usurped the normal committee process -- reaches nearly a trillion dollars in spending, and the non-partisan analysts cannot guarantee that this $825 billion in proposed legislation would create one single job.  

The Democrats are going to end up turning this recession into a depression, just wait and see.  If they don't manage it, it will be a miracle.  What remains unclear, at least for now, is whether or not they are doing it intentionally.  I guess we'll soon see since Obama is  meeting with the Republicans today. 

Will the Republicans be silly enough to vote for this monstrosity and give the Democrats the political cover they desparately seek?  Probably. 

 

Mom Needs Some Christmas Pictures

Here are a few snaps from the Hogan Family Christmas.  We aren't very good photographers are we?  Nevermind.  On with the show:

Opening presents, Daddy in his "Poppy" hat. He isn't smiling because of the hat, Uncle B.  He's smiling because Hen and I gave him every episode of "The Rockford Files".  I'm still kinda bummed that I only had time to watch the first 6 episodes, just to make sure it was all good.  

We made chicken n' dumplins for Sunday lunch.  Veritas is usually my go to dumplin' gal, but she was on her way from college town, so the dumplin' baton was passed on to my oldest daughter, Valentine, and my sister Henny.  They did a great job.  Yes, we roll out the biscuits.  It would be insane not to do so.  Trust me on this.

No, my sister's real name isn't Henny.  I've told this before on the blog, but I'm too lazy to look it up and link it.  Henny is a childhood nickname.  I call her Henny.  She calls me Fuzzy.  My cell phone speed dial says "Henny Home" and "Henny Cell".  I get birthday cards addressed "Dear Fuz".  I guess it runs in the family that both Hen and Fuz will pose for a picture with anything, even a biscuit can.  Mom gets in on the dumplin' action:

I'm not sure what Mom's holding there.  The last piece of Poppy's Perfect Peanut Brittle perhaps?

Here's a shot of Mom, Hen, and me.  (Yes, mother, this is the best picture I had.  One had your eyes closed, the other had Hen's eyes closed. This is the proverbial  IT, even though I appear to be preparing to attend a Marilyn Manson concert by underlining my eyes with black splotch.) :

This picture reminds me of a trip to the dentist when Mom said I would get my teeth cleaned and because I was young, I actually believed that "getting your teeth cleaned" meant my teeth would morph into movie star wide and bright like Mom and Hen here.  I smiled in the bathroom mirror after the cleaning, expecting Mom's teeth to wink back at me, only to find I still had Dad's teeth, only cleaner.  It was a bitter blow. 

And no family event would be complete without the Joker! game:

Bug, Spence, and Uncle B.  Note how Bug and Uncle B immediately hide their cards while Spence, so innocent, keeps his fanned out.  Sad, that.  Another Joker! shot:

(l-r) Veronica, Viagra, Bug, Spence, Uncle B, Uncle B's rabbit ears on Willard 'cause that's just how we roll, Willard.  Again, Veronica covers her cards while Willard just hangs 'em out there for the world to see.  I bet he didn't win a game, bless his heart. 

Now we do get ridiculous about the Joker! game.  Rules are hotly debated, arguments break out, and family members act as if the very Constitution of the United States might have been spat upon during any questionable move.  Also, we're alot Irish.  On the one hand I find that troubling, but on the other, I've played Skip-Bo with mom's mom, MaMa.  I've seen MaMa slap a hand over a card, glare, and grit out, "A CARD LAYED IS A CARD PLAYED." 

At the time, she was playing with my 6 year-old daughter and 5 year-old son.  I guess she'd mellowed.  There was a time when she was really serious about her card games. (Kidding!!  She wasn't playing with the kiddies when she did that.  The rest:  True Story.)

Can we ever overcome our genes plus our history?  In our family, not if we play cards. At least we aren't like Dad's side of the family, who actually came to blows over a 42 game.  Having played 42 with them, it's completely understandable.  They are terrible table talkers and not the least bit subtle.  They might as well take out an ad in the New York Times entitled, "I'm going in 6's.  Do you have the double, partner?  And also, the 6:5?  After that, I got it!" 

And speaking of the Dark Side, our domino brawler cousin Mas dropped by to visit during Christmas.  Fun Times!  Here's a shot of me, Mas, and Hen:

We look completely sane, what with being domino throwdown Hogans, dontcha think?

Cousins Kim and Howard also showed up Sunday afternoon.  Kim, Howard, Hen and I spent many a summer at Granny Hogan's house tearin' up anvils, locking each other in the cellar, swimmin' in the cow's watering trough, ridin' pigs and motorcycles, and swingin' on cables from the top of the barn rafters into the cotton trailer.  I'll never forget the time I sailed past the cotton trailer, let go with seriously bad timing at the far end of the barn, landed all the way down on the dirt floor of the barn, flat on my back, breath completely knocked out of me, and turned my head upon the dirty straw to look deeply into the eyes of a skunk.  Incapacitiated, I could only stare at the skunk and hyperventilate further.  Lucky for me, the skunk had met Rusty the farm dog earlier in the day and was dead as a doornail.  It took me long minutes I will never forget to wrap my brain around the  fact that the skunk was actually dead, although still seriously rank.  I may have kissed Rusty later, but that's between me and Rusty.

Sadly, our camera died at that point and I don't have a picture of the four of us.  We had some serious fun on that farm, but it's probably for the best that there is no photographic evidence as Kim just could NOT keep her mouth shut.  We were sitting in Hen's living room with my teenagers and Kim just blurts out, "Remember when you used to drive us around all over the county and we weren't supposed to go past the railroad tracks?  And we just snuck on into town and got caught on main street?  You were a wild child, Lana!"

People who do not have teenagers!  Do not tell these stories in front of other people's children.  Now all the kiddies want to drive the car, though they don't have a license or even a permit, just like Mommy.  Granted, Granny let me drive around the back roads at 13 and 14 with my cousins and sister, which was insane, but that doesn't mean I'm going to agree to it with my children.  Duh!  You just know they'll go past the railroad tracks and roar right into town.  Hello?  They're my kids.  What WAS Granny thinking? 

And what was I thinking?  She lived in a town of what, 1500-2000 people, perhaps only a third of the population directly related to us?  Knew me by name?  Recognized the car?  What person with a brain in their head could have predicted someone might notice?  The party line was burning up with the fact that we'd crossed the railroad tracks before we even hit main, dontcha know. 

Remember when you thought your parents and grandparents were mind reading geniuses?  Then, after you had children, you realized that the real problem in your nefarious deeds being found out was that you were dumb as a box of rocks.  

No matter my glare, Kim would not be silenced.  She then had to engage my sister and tell about how, "Lana would hang her feet out the car window and let us sit in the floorboard and do the gas?"

I was always there for them, bringing the fun, but just as I was about to insist for the benefit of my youngsters that it never happened, Hen rats me out, "Good Times!!"

And now for the kiddies.  This wasn't taken exactly at Christmas, but it CRACKS ME UP!  Hen's baby boy, Hogan, is Spiderman.  Aside from a few missing legs, he's a dead ringer:

Hen's baby, Ella Jo!  It's hard to say whether she looks like her Momma or her Aunt Lana.  This picture, however, trends toward Hen.  It doesn't matter, really, as her personality is all Aunt Lana.  I'll take it:

(l-r) Hen's oldest daughter's (Weewee) baby, Kyleigh, Vision, Hogan with claw hand, Ellie Bellie, and the pumpkin. 

Vision, Kyleigh, and Ella Jo. 

WeeWee and Kyleigh.  Kyleigh was getting pretty tired at this point, but she's still trying to bring the smiles.  What a sweetheart.  

Daddy and Ella Jo.

 
The pumpkin:  Take my picture!

Ella Jo and the pumpkin diving on Spence before bedtime.  The pumpkin appears to have Ella Jo in a headlock, note the tight grip around Ella Jo's neck.  But it's love, people.  A love lock about the neck and shoulders. 

Hogie Bear and the pumpkin.  "We made candy necklaces.  Thanks Val!  Also we're tired of smiling for all these pictures."

  All the kiddies:  Ella, Veronica, Pumpkin, Veritas, Hogie, Spence, Kyleigh.

Veritas and the pumpkin.  Just cause I like this one.  It's late, I know, but life happens on the way to Merry Christmas.  Even so, we had a very, merry Christmas.