Tag Archives: grandson

A Last Hurrah

14 Mar

We have hardly had any winter at all this season, but apparently Mother Nature had one of those “Hold my beer and watch this” moments.

It started snowing around 8:30 last night, and by 1:30 or so this morning it had turned to a mixture of freezing rain and sleet. Yuck. We only had an inch or so here, but it was treacherous. Sirens were going all day, and I heard a tree fall a little distance up the road when I went out to feed the birds. Blazer went leaping across the carport for his morning constitutional, but made a sudden U-turn when his feet hit the snow. He did follow me to the feeders, but returned to “dry land” and waited for me to come back.

It started snowing and sleeting again a little after noon, but it really didn’t amount to much. With the wind and the sleet, it sounded as if somebody was throwing pebbles against the window.  At the moment, it is above freezing, so everything is slush, but it’s supposed to go down to the mid-20s after dark, and then the world will be one huge skating rink.

Local Grandson is a lineman for Baltimore Gas & Electric and was “lucky” enough to draw storm duty today. He doesn’t mind the work, but people who act as if he personally turned off their power, and the ones who insist they should be first “just because”, are, quite naturally, annoying and just make the work harder. If you see somebody up a pole, go take them a cup of hot coffee.

 

 

 

Sunday, Sunday

3 Oct

Yesterday, I was scheduled to read the Old Testament lesson. While I was reading, I saw a man come up the walkway and enter the building. He came into the church and stopped at the door, as if he was waiting for me to stop reading before he took a seat. Nothing unusual in that, and from the distance I thought he was a former member. But then he turned around and left the building, and I saw him go back toward the parking lot.

When I had finished the reading, I followed him outside, where he was sitting in his car, looking through the Yellow Pages. He was not the person I thought he might be, so I asked him if I could help him.

“I’m looking for a Jewish church.”

Well, I’ve never heard of a synagogue being referred to as a “church”, and given that we have a steeple with a big cross on top, it would be hard to mistake Resurrection for anything but Christian.  Synagogue services are generally on Friday evening, not Sunday morning, but OK.  I told him the nearest place I knew of was about 20 miles away. “But, if you go back down this street and turn left at the 4-way stop, the people in the house on the corner are Jewish, so they may be able to help you.” He thanked me and went on his way. Very mysterious.

After we grabbed a bite to eat, The Squire and I went up to Eldest Daughter’s for a semi-farewell party for our grandson. He is in the Reserves, and is scheduled to go to the Middle East this coming Saturday. However, his wife is “great with child” and due to deliver any day. The Reserves have told him that is she doesn’t deliver the baby before he is supposed to fly out, he can stay home until the 22nd.  We shall see.

The baby’s middle name will be the same as her father’s; he died only a short time after they got married, and this is a way to honor a wonderful dad who left us far, far too early.  Her dad’s middle name is the same as my grandfather’s first name, but he pronounced it the “deep South” way, while my grandfather used the French pronunciation. We batted that around for a while, and I mentioned that I hoped somebody would name a child after The Squire.  I don’t want to contemplate what life would have been if he had not come along on his white charger and rescued, not just me, but the girls as well.

SIL fixed steamed crabs and corn on the cob, and we all gorged ourselves.  Great-granddaughter wasn’t too sure about hard crabs; she doesn’t have the strength to break the claws with a mallet, and didn’t think much of the bits of meat her dad offered her.  GGD wanted Gran-mama to sit in Mimi’s car with her, so we “drove” to the store and she read me a story. Very interesting, that story.  Fascinating what you can find reading between the lines in a catalogue!

Just a pleasant afternoon, filled with love, laughter, as well as prayers for a safe return.

 

 

Me and Donald Trump

31 Jul

To say that I am not a great fan of Donald Trump is a massive understatement.

Our eldest grandson is a member of the Air Force, and will be going to the Middle East sometime in October. Matt&Plane When I heard Trump’s dismissal of John McCain’s service to our county, I was incensed. Senator McCain spent five and a half years in a Viet Cong prison camp, enduring God alone know what sorts of torture, and Trump flipped him off. “He’s not a war hero. He’s a war hero because he got captured. I like people that weren’t captured.” (He also dismissed Sen. McCain later because he had lost to President Obama, “I don’t like losers.”)

What sort of sympathy will our daughter and grand-daughter-in-law going to get from this person if – God Forbid – he ever becomes Commander in Chief?

Well, now we know.

This is a person who excoriated the parents of a soldier who died saving the lives of his men. That is the support our grandson’s  family will receive from Donald Trump. A person who thinks he has made sacrifices because he has worked hard, and amassed a fortune. Oh, and he went to military school. Big whoop. He was sent there by his parents because of “behaviour problems”. What sort of sacrifice is a fortune? He has, to quote Khizr Khan, sacrificed nothing, and no one.

What sort of person – I won’t call him a man – makes fun of people who have lost a son who is willing to fight for his country? For the country Trump himself calls home? The country our grandson has sworn to protect, with his very life if necessary?

Mr. Trump has a soul as dark as the inside of Shan-Wei’s boot, and a heart as cruel as any Viet Cong torturer.

And you may quote me on that.