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Quotes from "Famous" Mothers: Happy Mother’s Day!
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May 13, 2012 1:05 pm
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God could not be everywhere … therefore he made mothers.
Quotes from "Famous" Mothers:
ABRAHAM LINCOLN'S MOTHER:
"Again with the stovepipe hat, Abe? Can't you just wear a baseball cap like the other kids?"
BARNEY'S MOTHER:
"I realize strained plums are your favorite, Barney, but you're starting to look a little purple!"
MARY'S MOTHER:
"I'm not upset that the lamb followed you to school, Mary, but I would like to know how he got a better grade than you!"
BATMAN'S MOTHER:
"It's a nice car, Bruce, but do you realize how much the insurance will be!"
GOLDILOCK'S MOTHER:
"I've got a bill here for a busted chair from the bear family. You know anything about this Goldie?"
LITTLE MISS MUFFET'S MOTHER:
"Well, all I've got to say is if you don't get of your tuffet and start cleaning your room, there'll be a lot more spiders around here!"
ALBERT EINSTEIN'S MOTHER:
"But, Albert, it's your senior picture. Can't you do something about your hair? Styling gel, mousse, something....?"
GEORGE WASHINGTON'S MOTHER:
"The next time I catch you throwing money across the Potomac, you can kiss your allowance good-bye!"
JONAH'S MOTHER:
"That's a nice story, but now tell me where you've really been for the past 3 days!"
SUPERMAN'S MOTHER:
"Clark, your father and I have discussed it, and we've decided you can have your own telephone line. Now will you quit spending so much time in all those phone booths!"
And Finally ... (give me a drum roll here .......)
THOMAS EDISON'S MOTHER:
"Of course I'm proud that you invented the electric light bulb, dear. Now turn off that light and get to bed!"
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PHOTO FRIDAY - LETTER 'U'
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Mar 30, 2012 8:40 am
324 Views
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These photos were taken prior to my leaving Florida two weeks ago. So here is a brief history, which most of you are undoubtedly aware of:
United Parcel Service, Inc., typically referred to by the acronym UPS, is a package delivery. Headquartered in Sandy Springs, Georgia, UPS delivers more than 15 million packages a day to 6.1 million customers in more than 220 countries and territories around the world. UPS is well-known for its brown trucks, internally known as package cars (hence the company nickname "Brown"). UPS also operates its own airline, based in Louisville, Kentucky. Declining mail volume is a symptom of the weak national economy, particularly related to the financial and housing industries, and to trends toward the use of electronic mail. On March 19th, 2012, UPS announced that it intends to acquire TNT Express for 6 billion $, in a move to help expand its presence in European and Asian markets.
Personally, we feel that 95% of the mail is garbage because we go paperless on most important accounts. Also, most of the parcels are stuff we have ordered online. Many get ticked off when told by UPS that delivery will be made on a certain day (by day’s end), so we wait around all day to have them show up at 5 pm!! The irony of this is that the guy who delivers happens to live in the same building as us!!!
Note: The UPS trucks in the U.S. are so similar to our Brinks trucks in Canada. Not sure if this appeared on your news channel but two days ago there was a Brinks tractor-trailer crash in northeastern Ontario that spilled nearly $5 million in Canadian coins. One of the constables at the scene said he felt as if he were "walking on a carpet of loonies and toonies." (our $1 coin is a ‘loonie’ and our $2 coin is a ‘toonie).
The United States Postal Service (also known as USPS, the Post Office or U.S. Mail) is an independent agency of the United States government responsible for providing postal service in the U.S. Apparently it is one of the few government agencies explicitly authorized by the United States Constitution. The USPS traces its roots to 1775. The USPS employs over 574,000 workers and operates over 218,000 vehicles. It is the 2nd largest civilian employer in the United States. The USPS is the operator of the largest vehicle fleet in the world. The first postal service in America arose in February 1692. On December 5, 2011 the USPS announced it would close more than half of its mail processing centers, eliminate 28,000 jobs and end overnight delivery of first-class mail. This will close down 252 of its 461 processing centers. On December 13, 2011 the USPS agreed to delay the closing of 252 mail processing centers as well as 3,700 local post offices until mid-May 2012.
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THE SANDPIPER
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Mar 22, 2012 8:38 am
257 Views
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I received an email this morning, the contents of which I would like to share with you. This story is so very touching and although some of you may have heard it before, the read is well worth it! It certainly touched my heart.....
Though you may think of the beach as the best place to see a sandpiper, look for Spotted Sandpipers alone or in pairs along the shores of lakes, rivers, and streams. Once in flight, watch for their stuttering wingbeats, or look for them teetering along rocky banks or logs.
The Sandpiper
by Robert Peterson
She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.
"Hello," she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.
"I'm building," she said. "I see that. What is it?" I asked, not really caring. "Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."
That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.
A sandpiper glided by. "That's a joy," the child said. "It's a what?" "It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy." The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.
"What's your name?" She wouldn't give up. "Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."
"Mine's Wendy... I'm six."
"Hi, Wendy." She giggled. "You're funny," she said.
In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me. "Come again, Mr.. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."
The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me.. The breeze was chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.
"Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
"I don't know. You say."
"How about charades?" I asked sarcastically. The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is."
"Then let's just walk."
Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.
"Where do you live?" I asked. "Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages. Strange, I thought, in winter.
"Where do you go to school?"
"I don't go to school. Mom my says we're on vacation". She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.
Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
"Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today." She seemed unusually pale and out of breath. "Why?" she asked. I turned to her and shouted, "Because my mother died!" and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child? "Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."
"Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and -- oh, go away!" "Did it hurt?" she inquired. "Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, with myself. "When she died?" "Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.
A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
"Hello," I said, "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."
"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies."
"Not at all! she's a delightful child." I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said. "Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn't tell you." Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.
"She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." Her voice faltered, "She left something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?" I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with "MR. P" printed in bold childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues -- a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:
A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms."I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," I uttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words -- one for each year of her life -- that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand -- who taught me the gift of love.
NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less. Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis. This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses.
This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many
and now I share it with you.. May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences! Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us?
I wish for you, a sandpiper.
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RESPONSE TO THE NATIVECAT….
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Mar 5, 2012 5:16 pm
487 Views
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....and you know who you are! How dare you accuse Larry of being someone else!! As for being obnoxious, you had better take a second look in the mirror before you comment. Your accusation was totally unnecessary and we don't owe you any explanation but you do owe him an apology!
Although Larry didn‘t accuse you of anything prior to your comment, I do have to agree with that blog from RustyMuscle which I went to read when I saw your attack on Larry in your blog this evening. You might be interested in knowing that I am not the only one who saw you make that particular comment about your son (way back when) to Morgana (witchy). In that blog you did mention your son and yes, I distinctly remember you indicated ‘University of Toronto’. Lest we forget? Since I am blocked from commenting on your blogs, probably because I didn’t agree with everything you said, I was unable to respond to you. I suppose you felt you no longer wanted my opinion. That is your prerogative but there are many on this site that have suffered from cancers or have lost loved ones to cancer and I am confident that they did not appreciate your persuasion on health issues such as mammograms etc but refused to comment themselves. Oh incidentally, you did question why I wouldn’t detail my own bout with cancer. For your information, I revealed much more in my response than I wanted to and since I enjoy my privacy, I didn’t feel I should expound on anything further for you. Those who have met me from this site are aware of my ordeal and I wanted to leave it at that. I have excellent doctors and naturopath to whom I can go to for answers rather than taking any advice from you, a non accredited health professional !!
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PHOTO FRIDAY - 'SUNSETS'
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Mar 2, 2012 6:36 am
401 Views
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For years, Lovers Key is located between Fort Myers and Bonita Beach, Florida, and was accessible only by boat and it was said that only lovers traveled to the island to enjoy its remote and solitary beach. It consists of various beaches, some mostly man-made. The beach itself is clean and pristine, with miles of some of the best shelling possibilities anywhere. One has the opportunity to fish, swim, or kayak in the clean gulf waters.
In the early 1900s the islands were accessible only by boat. It was said that only lovers made the effort to get to this romantic island, thus the name Lovers Key. Plans for a causeway connecting the small barrier islands between Estero Bay and the Gulf of Mexico to the mainland began in the late 1950s. Prior to the causeway's construction, the islands were accessible only by boat. Boaters favored Lovers Key as the place to watch a romantic sunset.
These photos were taken last year where we spent the day. We parked our car and took the tram provided for us (& others) to the beach area. It was an exceptionally lovely day where we picked up some beautiful shells and had a delectable picnic prepared by my own personal & wonderful chef, Larry!
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To link to this blog (frenchsalsa2) use [blog frenchsalsa2] in your messages.
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