Hey folks, welcome to the new whine/general topic thread. Feel free to use this thread to discuss anything that is on your mind. Caregiving- related stuff, life after a loved one's death, your own emotional wellbeing. Whatever..........anything on your mind.
Thx for noticing my absence.
So that's my whine moment for today (Sorry if I posted this twice, the website is acting silly today and not posting stuff right away)
"He never came to me when I would call
Unless I had a tennis ball,
Or he felt like it,
But mostly he didn't come at all.
When he was young
He never learned to heel
Or sit or stay,
He did things his way.
Discipline was not his bag
But when you were with him things sure didn't drag.
He'd dig up a rosebush just to spite me,
And when I'd grab him, he'd turn and bite me.
He bit lots of folks from day to day,
The delivery boy was his favorite prey.
The gas man wouldn't read our meter,
He said we owned a real man-eater.
He set the house on fire
But the story's long to tell.
Suffice it to say that he survived
And the house survived as well.
On the evening walks, and Gloria took him,
He was always first out the door.
The Old One and I brought up the rear
Because our bones were sore.
He would charge up the street with Mom hanging on,
What a beautiful pair they were!
And if it was still light and the tourists were out,
They created a bit of a stir.
But every once in a while, he would stop in his tracks
And with a frown on his face look around.
It was just to make sure that the Old One was there
And would follow him where he was bound.
We are early-to-bedders at our house--
I guess I'm the first to retire.
And as I'd leave the room he'd look at me
And get up from his place by the fire.
He knew where the tennis balls were upstairs,
And I'd give him one for a while.
He would push it under the bed with his nose
And I'd fish it out with a smile.
And before very long
He'd tire of the ball
And be asleep in his corner
In no time at all.
And there were nights when I'd feel him
Climb upon our bed
And lie between us,
And I'd pat his head.
And there were nights when I'd feel this stare
And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there
And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.
And sometimes I'd feel him sigh
and I think I know the reason why.
He would wake up at night
And he would have this fear
Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,
And he'd be glad to have me near.
And now he's dead.
And there are nights when I think I feel him
Climb upon our bed and lie between us,
And I pat his head.
And there are nights when I think
I feel that stare
And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,
But he's not there.
Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,
I'll always love a dog named Beau.
The day I consider myself prim and proper is the same day Trump admits he's wrong........about anything.
Nice thought though Send. ;)
Taking a loooong time.
you and google too!
Enter "define primped", and guess what pops up?
Did you mean: define pimped?
But Gershun said it correctly, all prim and proper-like.
I've been searching for a Church to go to and think when and if I find one I'll err on the side of black pants and a nice top till I see which way the tide flows.
I wish I could find someone to go with. The thought of going by myself intimidates me a bit.
I could have waited but there are a few small patches of native grass. The native grass grows twice as fast and these tall shoots pop up.
We had a surprise thunderstorm yesterday. Not a minute too soon. Pastures grasses were getting dry and crunchy.
August is normally out hottest month.
Charles was always wearing a tie and a suit...many years ago, also a robe (not sure). Andy is a blue jeans, no tie type pastor.
The day Charles spoke at Andy's church, each of them made a small concession in their dress.
From the story:
[When his father arrived at North Point, Andy stepped onto the stage to introduce him. He, (Andy) wore a sober, dark suit coat over jeans.
"When people tell me that they enjoy my preaching, I always have the same answer: 'You know what, I got it all from God and my dad, in that order," he said.
Andy smiled and looked at his dad seated in the audience.
"I'm extraordinarily blessed, extraordinarily grateful, and I'm thrilled Dad that you are here to talk to us and lead us through communion."
North Point's staff clapped as Charles walked up to the stage. He wore a suit coat, but no tie.]
To my knowledge, neither Pastor has conceded the word of God.
From across the room, one could see wayyy tooo much as he held his legs crossed.
Rather than "criticize" a pastor, I never went back.
Now I wear pants and a comfortable top,whatever I want,since nobody seems to want to wear lacy dresses and hats anymore and that's fine with me.
Today,I skipped church though and caught alittle Dr.Charles Stanley on tv instead,in my pajama pants.