One by one they come.
The family reunion.
Sharing, fun, joy, mirth.
One by one they come.
The family reunion.
Sharing, fun, joy, mirth.
The ship’s captain was showing signs of distress as he hovered over the controls of the ship. Finally, he turned to his junior officer and told him that the ships navigation system was down. Then admitted this was his first time in these waters and he was worried about finding his way back to port.
The junior officer told the captain that he knew how to use the stars in the sky to navigate. The captain just laughed and said no one knows how to do that anymore. I never even learned how to navigate that way. But, since he felt totally lost, he told him to get to it.
So the junior officer began to chart their course according to the bright stars in the sky. Satisfied, he ordered the boat to change course and they headed back to port without incident.
Impressed by the junior officer’s knowledge and cool head, the captain asked him how he learned to navigate that way since the academy no longer required it. The junior officer told him that his father had taught him when he went along with him on his fishing boat.
After the ship got into port, the captain realized it is always good to have a backup plan in case the same thing happened again. He gave it a lot of thought. The next morning the captain signed up for an astral navigation class.
Conversant in the art of needle and thread, the shy Katie walked across the stage to the podium. She smiled at her audience then began her talk about her love of quilting. She shared her many years of working with needle and thread. Then told of how she lovingly made quilts for her children, grandchildren, and her great-grandchildren.
Katie went on to say that through quilting she had made lasting friendships when she became a member of several quilt guilds over the years. Attending many classes and teaching many as well, Katie loved to share her talents with others especially making quilts for those in need.
Her motto, she said is, There is nothing more comforting than being wrapped in a quilt lovingly made with needle and thread. The audience applauded Katie at this point in her presentation. She was an inspiration to all of the quilters in attendance.
When the audience quieted down, she told them that it didn’t matter if they were hand quilters or made use of sewing machines, have fun doing what you love. She also said that it was important to realize that every quilt we make doesn’t have to be an heirloom. The world needs those, it’s true, but it needs those sturdy utilitarian quilts that give love to so many.
After Katie’s wonderful talk about quilting, she went on to show some of her beautiful quilts.
In 1960 when I was nine years old I went to the Steel Pier in Atlantic City, New Jersey. My great aunts and great uncles loved to drive down to the shore on Sundays and spend the day walking on the boardwalk and this Sunday my mother, brother and I went along with them.
The main attraction was the famous Diving Horse. I kid you not. There was actually a horse that would dive off of a tower about 60 feet in the air into a large pool. Usually, there was a woman sitting on the horse’s back, but sometimes the horse would take the leap by himself.
I can remember it as if I saw it yesterday. I remember holding my breath until I saw the horse surface and swim to the edge. I was always afraid that the horse would not survive.
As the horse dove off of the tower, you could hear the gasps of the onlookers. It was as though everyone held their breath until they saw the horse moving in the pool. Then the cheers would ring out and the sound of clapping was almost deafening.
The other attraction on the Steel Pier was the Diving Bell. It was a ride that would plunge into the ocean when the mechanism was released, it would pop up onto the surface. The ride lasted only five minutes. I wanted to go on that ride so much. But my mother, who was a big baby about rides and such, would not let me go on it. Maybe it had something to do with the microphones inside the bell that broadcasted the riders screams. I don’t know. I do remember my mother bribing me with salt water taffy, cotton candy, and popcorn so that I would stop begging to go on it.
The original bell was lost at sea in the March 1962 storm when a barge broke away and took out a 400-foot section of the pier. It makes me sad that the famous diving bell that I so wanted to ride on is sitting at the bottom of the ocean off the shore of New Jersey encrusted with barnacles and the home of sea bass, mullet, dog sharks, and flounder.
I wander around
This big house
Still looking for you.
I have so much to tell you.
You went away
So suddenly, I had
No time to say goodbye.
You couldn’t help it
Grief is my new partner.
Keeping you present
In my heart and mind.
I miss you.
How do I get over
I can’t let you go
No matter how much
There was still so much
living for us to do.
The anger, the sorrow,
The loneliness, the emptiness,
Have become my
They have become
Like an old friend.
One I can depend on.
One I can sit with
I pray that one day
I will reach acceptance,
Maybe even understanding.
Until then, I put
One foot in front
Of the other,
Take one day
At a time, and
Do the best that I can.
When I was young my father taught me the art of compromise. He told me that learning how to compromise was the key to happiness. He also told me that I am responsible for my own happiness. Hence, learn how to compromise.
My dad quit high school to join the army. He did not pass the physical so instead of going off to war in Korea, he joined the National Gard. But, my dad was a very wise man. He read voraciously. He could repair anything. Cars, appliances, and my broken heart. But I digress.
One of the most important aspects of life he taught me was that to be happy we all have to compromise. None of us are perfect, so we need to accept it and not continue to hit ourselves over the head about it. We also must realize that those we come into contact with are not perfect. I know a little repetitive here. 🙂 We must compromise in our expectations of others and not demand perfection. This by no means is an excuse not to do our best at whatever we choose to do with our lives. Working hard, doing a good job, taking care of each other is what is expected when you become an adult.
As far as marriage is concerned, he said, you must each give 110% all the time. He went on to say that in doing this, you learn how to compromise. He followed it up quickly by saying, compromise is in no way an excuse to put up with physical or mental abuse in a marriage. That is another story entirely.
Dad was the most giving man I have ever known. In the scheme of things what color you paint the walls is really not worth putting your foot down. He always saved the big issues for discussion, an example that I hope I followed throughout my marriage.
We can’t always have our own way. There is a time to stand firm and a time to give in. Finding those times in my life have shown me the way to be happy. My husband and I shared almost 41 years of marriage until he passed away in 2016. I guess my dad knew what he was talking about.
Have a good one.
I sit alone quietly
Praying for peace.
Peace in the present
And in the future.
Violence has taken over
In our schools.
Children are dying.
Why is this so?
Has God left us
To walk this earth alone?
Or have we left God
Thinking we don’t need Him?
A foolish thought
He gave us life
To cherish and honor Him.
He made us in His image.
So why do we turn away
From His ways?
Are mortal pleasures and hate
More important than our
I think it is time
For God to be invited
Back into our lives,
Our schools, our government
And our world.
The time for self-gratification
Is long past.
It’s time we put others
Time for respect.
Respect for God, self, authority,
And for life itself.
It was a day not to be forgotten. A day when there were so many assaults on the countryside. Who could the peasants turn to for help? It seems there was no one with the courage to step forward to defend their way of life.
The nobles were nowhere to be found. Where were those who had promised protection for the poor? Would they perish? But how could the nobles let this happen? Who would cook and clean for them? Can they survive without us?
Slowly a rube came forward. A simple sort who’s costume needed many repairs. He was barefoot, dirty and spoke with a weak voice saying he would defend them. “How can this be?” they asked him laughing. You are a nothing a simpleton.
The rube spoke up saying, I may be nothing with nothing, but together we are something and have many weapons at our disposal. Gather your farming tools and we will meet at the bridge to defend our homes.
The rest of the peasants in the village were suspicious but did as the rube had instructed. The peasants laid in wait for the invaders to cross the bridge. After many hours had passed, a scout was sent out to see where the invaders had gone.
The scout came running back into the village yelling that the invaders had vanished. Cheers erupted throughout the village. In no time the rube went back to being the village bumpkin, the nobles demanded the peasants resume their duties and the village continued to get along in the same fashion of its past. It didn’t take long for the villagers to forget the courageous actions of the simple man who was willing to lead them to their defense of the invaders.
When I was in high school, I used to suffer from anxiety over one of my classes. Most of them I loved, but I didn’t like history. I would conjure up all kinds of terrible failures over not being able to remember important dates. I actually could fall asleep during my history lectures. All of that changed when I took United States History with Mister Lebegern.
For the first time in my life, I enjoyed my history class. He made the content interesting and took the time to teach me some very good study techniques for remembering the important dates I needed to remember. What this teacher taught me was invaluable to not just the rest of my high school career, but also my college years.
I am very grateful to Mister Lebegern and his dedication to his students. He made the world of difference to me and my history anxiety.
Daily Prompt: Mnemonic
My all-time favorite mnemonic is KISS. Keep It Simple Stupid, or Keep It Simple and Short. I am not sure where it came from, but it is a great way to keep things uncomplicated.
I became acquainted with this little ditty when I began teaching some quilting workshops. One of my students looked at me and said, Kiss, I like it. Not knowing what in the world she was talking about, she explained to me that it was a mnemonic. Ever since it has been one I use often.
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