tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2009-11-21:/This were I will bring my writings to life. Whether just ideas for a story or a draft or a final.MokoFeed2009-11-21T09:59:11+01:00tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-11-19:/2007/11/19/woo_woo_it_is_another_monday~3319465/freeasthewind2007-11-19T13:15:37+01:002007-11-19T13:15:37+01:00 <p><img src="http://data3.blog.de/media/299/2156299_6d1db06164_m.jpg" alt="happy" vspace="5" hspace="5"><br> It is going be a short week this week. I am so happy. Thursday is Thanksgiving and then I don't have to go back to work until Monday again. *Yeah*. And MM will be enjoying all your beautiful company. Am really feeling a little better. Have a good day and must finish getting for work Hugs to all </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/11/19/woo_woo_it_is_another_monday~3319465/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-08-10:/2007/08/10/the_rain~2783891/freeasthewind2007-08-10T03:13:10+02:002007-08-10T03:15:16+02:00 <p><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/977/1869977_064febf8a9_s.gif" alt="Rain" vspace="5" hspace="5"></p> <p>This is a Thomas Kinkade painting. It's rumored to carry a miracle! The water is supposed to be running, so if it's not moving then the picture didn't come through entirely.<br> They say if you pass this on, you will receive a miracle. I am passing this on because I thought it was really pretty, and besides, who couldn't use a miracle</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/08/10/the_rain~2783891/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-06-14:/2007/06/14/red_marble~2455010/freeasthewind2007-06-14T23:38:23+02:002007-06-14T23:38:23+02:00 <p>>I found this in my e-mail the other day and it really hit a soft spot I hope you all enjoy</p> <p>>> Red Marbles<br> >><br> >><br> >> I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.<br> >><br> >> "Hello Barry, how are you today?"<br> >><br> >> "H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good."<br> >><br> >> "They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"<br> >><br> >> "Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."<br> >><br> >> "Good. Anything I can help you with?"<br> >><br> >> "No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."<br> >><br> >> "Would you like to take some home?" asked Mr. Miller.<br> >><br> >> "No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."<br> >><br> >> "Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"<br> >><br> >> "All I got's my prize marble here."<br> >><br> >> "Is that right? Let me see it" said Miller.<br> >><br> >> "Here 'tis. She's a dandy."<br> >><br> >> "I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?" the store owner asked.<br> >><br> >> "Not zackley but almost."<br> >><br> >> "Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble" . Mr. Miller told the boy.<br> >><br> >> "Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."<br> >><br> >> Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store."<br> >><br> >> I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado, but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.<br> >><br> >> Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could<br> >><br> >> Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.<br> >><br> >> Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.<br> >><br> >> Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.<br> >><br> >> "Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. N o w, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size...they came to pay their debt."<br> >><br> >> "We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho ."<br> >><br> >> With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.<br> >><br> >><br> >> The Moral : We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath.<br> >><br> >> Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~<br> >> A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself.<br> >> An unexpected phone call from an old friend.<br> >> Green stoplights on your way to work.<br> >> The fastest line at the grocery store.<br> >> A good sing-along song on the radio.<br> >> Your keys found right where you left them.<br> >><br> >> Send this to the people you'll never forget. I just Did...<br> >><br> >> If you don't send it to anyone, it means you are in way too much of a hurry to even notice the ordinary miracles when they occur.<br> >><br> >> IT'S NOT WHAT YOU GATHER, BUT WHAT YOU SCATTER THAT TELLS WHAT KIND OF LIFE YOU HAVE LIVED! ><br> >> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/06/14/red_marble~2455010/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-05-19:/2007/05/19/black_sheep_of_the_family_chapter_one~2298840/freeasthewind2007-05-19T19:55:35+02:002007-05-19T19:55:35+02:00 <p><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/780/1599780_097f63139f_m.jpg" alt="22" vspace="5" hspace="5"><br> Sitting in the over stuffed chair Missy had image from the past floating through her mind like a patch work quilt. A little girl taking a nap on her grandparents bed with her head laying on the window sill watching her aunt and uncle bringing home her new born cousin clara. the little girl was three but that was a important day that has floated through her mind many times over the years. A patch floats by with the family around the christmas tree and Clara must of been around two and her mother being dead 18 months already. That was the year that her dad gave Missy and thier other cousin romie thier cinderalla watches from Clara. the watch was still in Missy's jewrlry box only she had no band. There is patch floating around were Missy was little and she was at a hospital looking at a baby in a incubetor and then a woman in a bed with tubes in her. She has never been sure weather that was clara and her mom or it was clara and then later her own mom in the hospital and her own mother was never able to help her figure this memory out. There is a patch showing a little girl standing by a fence and a little boy standing on the other side. She remembers being told years later this little boy would bite her arm when he got the chance she didnt remember this part on the little boy standing on the other side of the fence. Then there is a patch where she is riding in a black car it was some kind of ford and she is standing (yes) standing between a really young grandmother and grandfather don't have a memorie of where they had been going or coming from but a small memorie of store flits around. These patches link up a memorie of sorts for missy to have a big picture she is forming. Missy lays her head back to tired to continue to put anymore patches together. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/05/19/black_sheep_of_the_family_chapter_one~2298840/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-05-15:/2007/05/15/extra_extra_new_flash~2277756/freeasthewind2007-05-15T23:28:22+02:002007-05-15T23:28:22+02:00 <p> Skull fossil suggests human ancestors had pea-sized brains...uuhmm the first politician perhaps.</p> <p>Teen hurt whacking bullets with hammer...ahhh our future God help us all.</p> <p>Texas man charged in Skittles heist...He would have gotten away but the police just followed the colorful rianbow to his house.</p> <p>German study proves no sex leads to less sex.......D'uh</p> <p>Denver plans to have all the homeless people in shelters by the time the Democratic National Convention comes to town....... After that, say officials, they go back on the streets</p> <p>May is Volcano Awareness Month.....Do you know where your volcano is?</p> <p>Bush moves to counter gas emissions..... Just like your dad at the dinner table</p> <p>Preacher allegedly uses "spare the rod, spoil the child" line to justify spanking and sodomizing female parishoners........ Wonder what he told them about the second coming</p> <p>. K. Rowling begging readers not to reveal plot of final Harry Potter book.... This way, nobody will find out Harry dies at the end...OOPS</p> <p>The U.S. Post Office announces that if you have a large envelope that is square, they will deliver it only if it is also rectangular. If it isn't, it will be impossible to deliver... Everybody got that</p> <p>CBS to air two primetime specials this month to honor Bob Barker,..... who is apparently still alive</p> <p>New study shows that French workers are the biggest whiners, while the Irish are the happiest. .......Because Guinness and whiskey beat out wine any day</p> <p>Now available in Wisconsin: Deep-fried cheese curds, candy bars, Twinkies and testicles. Wait, what?</p> <p>Kansas City gunmen fire 100 rounds at each other without hitting anyone.... Authorities have compiled a list of suspects which includes the entire Royals roster</p> <p>If you are going to tie your boyfriend to a chair, sodomise him with a sex toy and threaten to stab him to death, you should come up with a better alibi for the police than "It wasn't me"</p> <p>Retail chain offers dildo as Mothers Day gift...Okay I'm done</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/05/15/extra_extra_new_flash~2277756/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-05-03:/2007/05/03/for_you_all~2204774/freeasthewind2007-05-03T18:41:41+02:002007-05-03T18:44:41+02:00 <p> Work has been going pretty good.Got my deposit for the Townhouse mailed off. And got a paragraph started on The blacksheep not to bad. <img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/337/1493337_2b8c488178_s.gif" alt="miscellaneous2_333" vspace="5" hspace="5"> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/05/03/for_you_all~2204774/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-05-02:/2007/05/02/something_for_a_giggle~2200125/freeasthewind2007-05-02T23:31:21+02:002007-05-02T23:31:21+02:00 <p><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/368/1486368_7c089a4092_m.gif" alt="sddddd" vspace="5" hspace="5"><br> > So, we had this great 10 year old cat named Jack who just recently died.<br> > Jack was a great cat and the kids would carry him around and sit on him and<br> > nothing ever bothered him. He used to hang out and nap all day long on this<br> > mat in our bathroom.<br> > Well we have 3 kids and at the time of this story they were 4 years old, 3<br> > years old and 1 year old. The middle one is Eli. Eli really loves<br> > chapstick. LOVES it. He kept asking to use my chapstick and then losing<br> > it. So finally one day I showed him where in the bathroom I keep my<br> > chapstick and how he could use it whenever he wanted to but he needed to put<br> > it right back in the drawer when he was done.<br> > Last year on Mother's Day, we were having the typical rush around and try to<br> > get ready for Church with everyone crying and carrying on. My two boys are<br> > fighting over the toy in the cereal box. I am trying to nurse my little one<br> > at the same time I am putting on my make-up. Everything is a mess and<br> > everyone has long forgotten that this is a wonderful day to honor me and the<br> > amazing job that is motherhood.<br> > We finally have the older one and and the baby loaded in the car and I am<br> > looking for Eli. I have searched everywhere and I finally round the corner<br> > to go into the bathroom. And there was Eli. He was applying my chapstick<br> > very carefully to Jack's . . . rear end. Eli looked right into my eyes and<br> > said "chapped." Now if you have a cat, you know that he is right--their<br> > little butts do look pretty chapped. And, frankly, Jack didn't seem to<br> > mind.<br> > And the only question to really ask at that point was whether it was the<br> > FIRST time Eli had done that to the cat's behind or the hundredth.<br> > And THAT is my favorite Mother's Day moment ever because it reminds us that<br> > no matter how hard we try to civilize these glorious little creatures, there<br> > will always be that day when you realize they've been using your chapstick<br> > on the cat's butt.<br> > <img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/587/1486587_c96732b97a_m.gif" alt="aqqq" vspace="5" hspace="5"> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/05/02/something_for_a_giggle~2200125/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-05-01:/2007/05/01/daily_thought~2193564/freeasthewind2007-05-01T22:23:10+02:002007-05-01T22:23:10+02:00 <p>\<img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/761/1475761_606d72e1c7_m.gif" alt="smiles_45" vspace="5" hspace="5"> SOME PEOPLE ARE LIKE SLINKIES. NOT REALLY GOOD FOR ANYTHING BUT THEY BRING A SMILE TO YOUR FACE WHEN PUSHED DOWN THE STAIRS.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/05/01/daily_thought~2193564/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-28:/2007/04/28/missing_friday~2175920/freeasthewind2007-04-28T15:51:38+02:002007-04-28T15:51:38+02:00 <p><img src="http://data1.blog.de/media/961/1422961_905085be00_m.gif" alt="217828uayg13lxzd" vspace="5" hspace="5"><br> I called my doctor who is 1hr and half away and made an appointment and made sure they knew I wanted to see the doctor not the nurse practioner. I took the day off drove that for. Got there and no doctor she decided to play adminstrator at the hospital. I spent 4 hours the socalled practioner said it had been a year since I had been there and he couldnt do this or that. I said I knew I had to see the dam doctor that is why I made the appointment to see her. Especially with the drive up there. It came out he gave me 30 days worth of pain pills instead of the 60 for 30 days. And to scripts for things I already had and not the main one I needed. And he couldnt fill out the handicapp sticker as if I didnt know that. And she was the one that diagnosis me but of course he couldnt read that far back. He said your blood pressure is a lttle high. I said dam you think so. Your lucky I dont stroke out. I was so mad I was sick all evening. And now I have to work today with no agents to transfer to. I think that friday was the worse day I have had in a long time. so nothng was really accomplished. except making me want to punch a bunch of fools in the face. Hope you all had a better day </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/28/missing_friday~2175920/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-25:/2007/04/25/i_ve_learned~2161088/freeasthewind2007-04-25T20:55:17+02:002007-04-25T20:55:17+02:00 <p>"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow." </p> <p>"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights." </p> <p>"I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life." </p> <p>"I've learned that making a 'living' is not the same thing as 'making a life'." </p> <p>"I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance." </p> <p>"I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw some things back." </p> <p>"I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision." </p> <p>"I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one." </p> <p>"I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. </p> <p>People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back." </p> <p>"I've learned that I still have a lot to learn." </p> <p>"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/25/i_ve_learned~2161088/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-24:/2007/04/24/i_will_survive~2156003/freeasthewind2007-04-24T23:39:16+02:002007-04-24T23:39:16+02:00 <p>Been running through my mind all day</p> <p>Touch of grey</p> <p>Must be getting early<br> Clocks are running late<br> Faint light of the morning sky looks so phony<br> Dawn is breaking everywhere<br> Light a candle, curse the glare<br> Draw the curtains, I don't care, cuz<br> It's alright</p> <p>I will get by<br> I will get by<br> I will get by<br> I will survive </p> <p>I see you've got your fist out<br> Say your piece and get out<br> Yes I get the gist of it, but<br> It's alright<br> Sorry that you feel that way<br> The only there is to say:<br> Every silver lining's got a touch of grey</p> <p>I will get by<br> I will get by<br> I will get by<br> I will survive </p> <p>It's a lesson to me<br> The eagles and the beggars and the seas<br> The ABC's we all must face<br> Try to keep a little grace</p> <p>It's a lesson to me<br> The deltas and the east and the freeze<br> The ABC's we all think of<br> And try to win a little love</p> <p>I know the rent is in arrears<br> The dog has not been fed in years<br> It's even worse than it appears, but<br> It's alright<br> Cows giving kerosene<br> Kid can't read at seventeen<br> The words he knows are all obscene, but<br> It's alright</p> <p>I will get by<br> I will get by<br> I will get by<br> I will survive </p> <p>The shoe is on the hand that fits.<br> There's really nothing much to it<br> Whistle through your teeth and spit, cuz<br> It's alright<br> Oh well, a touch of grey<br> Kinda suits you anyway<br> And that was all I had to say, and<br> It's alright</p> <p>I will get by<br> I will get by<br> I will get by<br> I will survive </p> <p>We will get by<br> We will get by<br> We will get by<br> We will survive </p> <p>We will get by<br> We will get by<br> We will get by<br> We will survive </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/24/i_will_survive~2156003/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-24:/2007/04/24/which_do_you_feed~2155941/freeasthewind2007-04-24T23:19:56+02:002007-04-24T23:20:56+02:00 <p><img src="http://data1.blog.de/media/347/1394347_146092754a_m.jpg" alt="f633" vspace="5" hspace="5"><br> One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a<br> battle that goes on inside people.<br> He said, "My son, the battle is between two<br> "wolves" inside us all.</p> <p>One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret,<br> greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false<br> pride, superiority, and ego.</p> <p>The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility,<br> kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith."</p> <p>The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather:<br> "Which wolf wins?"</p> <p>The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."</p> <p>Which one do you feed </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/24/which_do_you_feed~2155941/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-24:/2007/04/24/be_happy_because~2155914/freeasthewind2007-04-24T23:11:51+02:002007-04-24T23:11:51+02:00 <p><img src="/img/smilies/grayyes.gif" alt=":yes:" class="middle" border="0"><br> Someone will always be prettier.<br> Someone will always be smarter.<br> Someone's house will be bigger.<br> Someone will drive a better car.<br> Someone's children will do better in school.<br> And Someone's husband will fix more things around the house.<br> So let it go, and love you and your circumstances.<br> Think about it.<br> The prettiest woman in the world can have hell in her heart.<br> And the most highly favored Woman on your job may be unable to have children.<br> And the richest woman you know,<br> who's got the car, the house, the clothes....might be lonely.<br> And the word says if "I have not Love, I am nothing."<br> So, again, love you. Love who you are.<br> Look in the mirror in the morning and smile and say<br> "I am too blessed to be stressed and too anointed to be disappointed!" </p> <p>"Winners make things happen.<br> Losers let things happen. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/24/be_happy_because~2155914/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-23:/2007/04/23/waters_edge~2149739/freeasthewind2007-04-23T23:35:57+02:002007-04-23T23:35:57+02:00 <p>Standing by the Waters edge<br> ><br> > Have you ever stood by the waters edge and felt the peaceful<br> surroundings?<br> > You can feel serenity when standing near the rushing waves along an<br> oceans<br> > beach, lying by the sunny seaside, boating in a lake cove or just<br> sticking<br> > your feet into a creek bed. It is easy to sense the tranquility that<br> the<br> > water brings if you open your heart to its glistening qualities.<br> ><br> > As you stand at the edge of the water where it meets up with land<br> that forms<br> > the shoreline an inner sensation overpowers you which impresses the<br> > emotional comprehension that there is no limit to harmony in the<br> world.<br> > Sadly that only lasts for a short time and soon life spins back into<br> play<br> > and you must return to reality.<br> ><br> > When life is bearing down on you like a storm take a moment to<br> return to the<br> > waters edge and feel the calm. Take a trip to the waters edge in<br> person, in<br> > your thoughts or even in your dreams. Allow the experience to relax<br> you and<br> > bring you to a special place where peace and tranquility reside.<br> Store a<br> > little of that in your soul to take along with you as you cope with<br> each new<br> > day.<br> <img src="http://data1.blog.de/media/238/1391238_2136cb6ca3_m.jpg" alt="3819837149" vspace="5" hspace="5"> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/23/waters_edge~2149739/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-20:/2007/04/20/soul_journey~2130038/freeasthewind2007-04-20T22:15:11+02:002007-04-20T22:15:11+02:00 <p>Go past the mountains,<br> Past the sea,<br> Over the hill tops,<br> There you will find me.<br> Not my body,<br> Not my things,<br> What you will find,<br> Is my soul and my dreams.<br> Flowing ever so gracefully,<br> Like a comet in space,<br> I look around for my meaning,<br> My true "happy" place.<br> Circling Jupiter,<br> And then riding Saturn's rings,<br> My soul will continue forever,<br> Like a never ending dream.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/20/soul_journey~2130038/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-20:/2007/04/20/imagination_a_terrible_thing_to_waste~2128602/freeasthewind2007-04-20T17:49:30+02:002007-04-20T17:49:30+02:00 <p> This came from my brothers blog but I think it is so true that I thought I would share.<br> The fact is that most kids don't have one. I can't blame T.V. completely. Because I had a T.V. and I did my share of watching it. But I loved being outside and my friends and I would go play in the creek or in the woods around our area. We would be explorers or cowboys maybe army men on patrol. Our playground was the old west or in the caveman day's. We found middle earth thanks to my friends mom reading the hobbit to us. We were on distant planets thanks to scifi. We journeyed to the center of the earth. We fought Vampires and became werewolves or hunted the Frankenstein Monster thanks to Sammy Terry. We went back and forward in time like Doctor Who. we were spies like 007. And all of our adventures started in our own backyard. Kids now a day's don't know what an imagination is. If it isn't on T.V. or video game and this computer forget it. They just stand around like zombies. I liked my imagination which is why I like to read. I also write my own stories using my imagination. And you know I think I'll get back to it. So if you'll excuse me I think I'll go out to my backyard and find middle earth or look for buried treasure. Or I'll just take a walk and let my imagination take me where it wants to go. Imagination is a terrible thing to waste</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/20/imagination_a_terrible_thing_to_waste~2128602/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-12:/2007/04/12/the_black_sheep_of_the_family~2079790/freeasthewind2007-04-12T18:33:24+02:002007-04-12T18:33:24+02:00 <p>Prologue</p> <p>You should have been the boy and you should have been the girl!!<br> This statement gave birth to the Black Sheep of the family. Nothing unusual about the family, just a normal fifties dysfunctional family with grandparents,father and mother with two kids living together.<br> There was a 6 year age difference between them with the girl being the oldest. The first time the girl heard this statement she was 16 and the boy was 10.<br> Nothing was ever added before or after the statement. It wasn't said in a mean way, in fact it was thought to be funny. Who knew it was taken to heart by two kids and effect thier view of each as adults.</p> <p>Chapter one </p> <p>The realization of how Missy became the Black Sheep of the family came to her as she was looking through the family photos and with these photos came the memories flooding to her mind like a flood after a major rain. Actually, she was branded a black sheep starting with that statement. But, was it the statement or who she was and who they weren't.<br> The journey back for Missy was going to bring either an awareness to Missy of who she is or maybe heartbreak of who the ones she loved couldnt accept because of who they were.<br> --- </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/12/the_black_sheep_of_the_family~2079790/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-04-11:/2007/04/11/what_made_me_me~2072144/freeasthewind2007-04-11T15:41:46+02:002007-04-11T15:41:46+02:00 <p>This was sent to me earlier and I still think it is right on. Enjoy<br> >Long ago and far away,<br> >In a land that time forgot,<br> >Before the days of Dylan,<br> >Or the dawn of Camelot.<br> >There lived a race of innocents,<br> >And they were you and me,<br> >Long ago and far away<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> >Oh, there was truth and goodness<br> >In that land where we were born,<br> >Where navels were for oranges,<br> >And Peyton Place was porn.<br> >For Ike was in the White House,<br> >And Hoss was on TV,<br> >And God was in His heaven<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >We learned to gut a muffler,<br> >We washed our hair at dawn,<br> >We spread our crinolines to dry<br> >In circles on the lawn.<br> ><br> >And they could hear us coming<br> >All the way to Tennessee,<br> >All starched and sprayed and rumbling<br> >in the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >We longed for love and romance,<br> >And waited for the prince,<br> >And Eddie Fisher married Liz,<br> >And no one's seen him since.<br> ><br> >We danced to "Little Darlin'",<br> >And Sang to "Stagger Lee"<br> >And cried for Buddy Holly<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >Only girls wore earrings then,<br> >And three was one too many,<br> >And only boys wore flat-top cuts,<br> >Except for Jean McKinney.<br> ><br> >And only in our wildest dreams<br> >Did we expect to see<br> >A boy named George, with Lipstick<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >We fell for Frankie Avalon,<br> >Annette was oh, so nice,<br> >And when they made a movie,<br> >They never made it twice.<br> ><br> >We didn't have a Star Trek Five,<br> >Or Psycho Two and Three,<br> >Or Rockey-Rambo Twenty<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >Miss Kitty had a heart of gold,<br> >And Chester had a limp,<br> >And Reagan was a Democrat<br> >Whose co-star was a chimp.<br> ><br> >We had a Mr Wizard,<br> >But not a Mr T,<br> >And Oprah couldn't talk, yet<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >We had our share of heroes,<br> >We never thought they'd go,<br> >At least not Bobby Darin,<br> >Or Marilyn Monroe.<br> ><br> >For youth was still eternal,<br> >And life was yet to be,<br> >And Elvis was forever,<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >We'd never seen the rock band<br> >That was Grateful to be Dead,<br> >And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson,<br> >And Zeppelins weren't Led.<br> ><br> >And Beatles lived in gardens then,<br> >And Monkees in a tree,<br> >Madonna was a virgin<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >We'd never heard of Microwaves,<br> >Or telephones in cars,<br> >And babies might be bottle-fed,<br> >But they weren't grown in jars.<br> ><br> >And pumping iron got wrinkles out,<br> >And "gay" meant fancy-free,<br> >And dorms were never coed<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >We hadn't seen enough of jets<br> >To talk about the lag,<br> >And microchips were what was left at<br> >The bottom of the bag.<br> ><br> >And Hardware was a box of nails,<br> >And bytes came from a flea,<br> >And rocket ships were fiction<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >Buicks came with portholes,<br> >And side show came with freaks,<br> >And bathing suits came big enough<br> >To cover both your cheeks.<br> >And Coke came just in bottles,<br> >And skirts came to the knee,<br> >And Castro came to power<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> >We had no Crest with Fluoride,<br> >We had no Hill Street Blues,<br> >We all wore superstructure bras<br> >Designed by Howard Hughes.<br> >We had no patterned pantyhose<br> >Or Lipton herbal tea<br> >Or prime-time ads for condoms<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> ><br> >There were no golden arches,<br> >No Perriers to chill,<br> >And fish were not called Wanda,<br> >And cats were not called Bill.<br> >And middle-aged was thirty-five<br> >And old was forty-three,<br> >And ancient was our parents<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> >But all things have a season,<br> >Or so we've heard them say,<br> >And now instead of Maybelline<br> >We swear by Retin-A.<br> >And they send us invitations<br> >To join AARP,<br> >We've come a long way, baby,<br> >From the Land That Made Me Me.<br> >So now we face a brave new world<br> >In slightly larger jeans,<br> >And wonder why they're using<br> >Smaller print in magazines.<br> ><br> >And we tell our children's children<br> >of the way it used to be,<br> >Long ago, and far away<br> >In the Land That Made Me Me.<br> >--Author unknown</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/04/11/what_made_me_me~2072144/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-03-22:/2007/03/22/superwoman_complex~1956128/freeasthewind2007-03-22T21:21:15+01:002007-03-22T21:21:15+01:00 <p>Whoever thought of the superwoman complex should have been shot.<br> I am not and do not want to be considered a super woman. The hype if you tend to believe it, is a woman that is everything to everyone and still has a life of her own.<br> Now let's just break this idea down a little. First, part is the perfect mother. Who takes care of the home and the family including the cooking, cleaning and chaporean around.<br> Second, there is the perfect wife, who takes care of her mate which includes everything from the first part and adding all that he needs extra.<br> Then this paragan of a woman goes out into the world to earn a living to bring home to either totally or partially keep everyone going.<br> Besides on this she is suppose to have a life of her own.<br> Now to most a life of her own is working outside the home. That is not a life of her own if she is doing to keep all the others going.<br> Now who in thier right mind would want to be considered a Superwoman. Now where does the SuperMan fit in. Somehow this looks what a slave looks like. Anyway that is what has been running through my brain. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/03/22/superwoman_complex~1956128/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-03-08:/2007/03/08/out_of_mouths_of_babes~1870129/freeasthewind2007-03-08T18:22:32+01:002007-03-08T18:22:32+01:00 <p>I never thought my son Scott paid any attention when I preached to him or when he went to sunday school. One day Scott was outside digging a hole and I yelled at him to stop. He didnt stop and it look like he was burying something. I went out and requested an explantation. Scott said he was burying a Squirrel he found. I told him to leave it alone as it was dead and it was full of germs. Scott pipes up and say I have to bury the squirrel he needs a new body and to get a new body you have to be buried so it could go to haven and get a new body. Out of mouths of babes. They pay attention more than you think </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/03/08/out_of_mouths_of_babes~1870129/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-03-07:/2007/03/07/going_home~1865725/freeasthewind2007-03-07T22:37:23+01:002007-03-07T22:37:23+01:00 <p> They say that you can never go home again as it won't be the same. But, there was a time when that wasn't true. When I came home to what I expected.<br> I opened the back door and there was the steps going down to the basement and then the four steps going up into the kitchen. Going through the kitchen door sitting at the kitchen table was grandpa drinking his morning coffee with his breakfast which was always the same. Eggs, Bacon and Toast. Then to finish the meal off a little sryup in a little bacon grease and the left over toast to mop it up with. I don't think that changed my whole life. Grandma was sitting across the table from gramps and the sun was shining into the kitchen and the smell was so good. The venetian blinds in the dining room were open and the sun was shining through the Priscilla curtains and Micky the Parakeet was on the sideboard talking to himself in the mirror. Going home was the same until the two people that made it the same were gone. No going home isnt the same </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/03/07/going_home~1865725/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-03-02:/2007/03/02/this_little_girl~1835533/freeasthewind2007-03-02T19:52:04+01:002007-03-02T19:52:04+01:00 <p>One of the earliest memories of this little girl is sitting in church and while the minister was preaching the little girl is pinching her grandmother’s elbow and watching the skin slowly go back into place. And standing on the pew seat while everyone was standing and singing and as they looked at her and smile she was trying to sing as loud as her grandmother and at that time her mother. Is this the little girl that was loved?</p> <p>The memory of the house next door to her grandmother and sitting in a little rocking chair watching black and white TV (Mickey mouse) while her baby bother laid in the playpen. </p> <p>There is a memory of grandma’s house where the sun is shining through the venation blinds and sheer Pricilla curtains in the dining room and in the kitchen with the sun shining through with grandpa at the table and grandma at the stove cooking breakfast. The little girl feeling safe. Maybe not being told love but feeling safe. </p> <p>Memory of a front porch with the swing on one end with grandpa’s chair close to it so they could talk as grandma swung on hot summer nights. And the little girl catching lighting bugs with her little brother and dreaming dreams of always living there. </p> <p>Memories of sitting in the living room grandma in her rocking chair and me squeezing into it with her. Then as the little girl got bigger she sat in her own chair with grandma and grandpa in their chairs and little brother laying on the floor watching TV and the little girl pinching her brother with her toes picking on him like sisters do. </p> <p>Memories of the little girl are frozen on these little bites of time that gave her a sense of safety that can’t be taken away. Where did that little girl go? She went into herself building a wall that could not be torn down to keep the hurt and disappointments from tearing down the good. People let the little girl down in so many ways. What the little girl was lead to believe was not true and no one knows how desperately the little girl wanted the family to be still together. When the grandparents left to go to their ancestors the little girl tried to hold on but there was no one that had the same feelings. The parents have took their last ride to their ancestors also and there was none. Who is this little girl, the little girl is gone. The little girl is me </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/03/02/this_little_girl~1835533/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-02-09:/2007/02/09/title~1707422/freeasthewind2007-02-09T01:12:37+01:002007-02-09T01:15:04+01:00 <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1157248" title="2310161788"><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/248/1157248_6697203bc4_m.jpg" alt="2310161788" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/02/09/title~1707422/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk,2007-02-08:/2007/02/08/the_beginning~1707192/freeasthewind2007-02-08T23:54:51+01:002007-02-08T23:54:51+01:00 <p>Going down the back roads have seen those old houses sitting back off the road empty and alone. The brush and grass all grown up around it. Just imagine if the Houses could talk the stories they could tell. That is the beginning of what I am writing about </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://freeasthewind2.blog.co.uk/2007/02/08/the_beginning~1707192/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>