It’s Saturday.  The first relaxing day this week!  I don’t have anything to say right now, so we’re just going to jump right into things.

Two Yuppettes were shopping. When they started to discuss their home lives, one said,

“Seems like all Alfred and I do anymore is fight. I’ve been so upset I’ve lost 20 pounds.”

“Why don’t you just leave him then?” asked her friend.

“Oh! Not yet.” the first replied, “I’d like to lose at least another fifteen pounds first.”

“However many holy words you read, However many you speak, what good will they do you If you do not act on upon them?” 

— Buddha

I copied this from a friend on FB.  It’s kind of old, but goes along well with some of the stuff we’ve been talking about lately and some of the stuff I’ve been dealing with lately

“I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. ‘I’m glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will get a short nap,’ I thought.

Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding me. I decided to start a conversation. ‘Where are you headed?’ I asked the soldier seated nearest to me.

‘Petawawa. We’ll be there for two weeks for special training, and then we’re being deployed to Afghanistan.’

After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. It would be several hours before we reached the east, and I quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time… As I reached for my wallet, I overheard a soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. ‘No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch. Probably wouldn’t be worth five bucks. I’ll wait till we get to base.’ His friend agreed.

I looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch.

I walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. ‘Take a lunch to all those soldiers.’ She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she thanked me. ‘My son was a soldier in Iraq ; it’s almost like you are doing it for him.’ Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated.

She stopped at my seat and asked, ‘Which do you like best – beef or chicken?’

‘Chicken,’ I replied, wondering why she asked.

She turned and went to the front of plane, returning a minute later with a dinner plate from first class. ‘This is your thanks..’

After we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room. A man stopped me. ‘I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.’ He handed me twenty-five dollars.

Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my side of the plane. When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand and said, ‘I want to shake your hand.’

Quickly unfastening my seatbelt I stood and took the Captain’s hand. With a booming voice he said, ‘I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.’

I was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers. Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another twenty-five dollars in my palm.

When we landed I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!

Upon entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. I walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. ‘It will take you some time to reach the base.. It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.’

Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers. As I walked briskly to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return.

These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals. It seemed so little…

A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to ‘The United States of America ‘ for an amount of ‘up to and including my life.’

That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.’

” 🕵️‍♂️ Inspired? Feel free to share among your friends ❤

A blank check, for up to and including my life.  

I’ve had many nice things done for me over my very long life because I was a veteran either in uniform or out of it.  I’ve also been cursed at, called names and spit on…so it goes both ways.  Doesn’t really matter, because neither one of those, the good or the bad, is why I raised my hand and “so solemnly swore…”  I’m not going to tell you why now. For those of you who’ve been following this ezine for any length of time, you already know why.  And for the rest of you … well … you’ll figure it out.

Inside The Brutal Life And Gruesome Death Of King Henry II Of France

King Henry II was known to cut out the tongues of Protestants, but he faced a bloody death of his own when he was stabbed through the eye during a jousting tournament in 1559.

King Henry II of France was known for his brutality against Protestants. He would burn heretics alive and cut out the tongue of anyone who dared utter a word of dissent against the Catholic Church. But the monarch faced a gruesome death of his own when he was stabbed through the eye by a lance during a jousting tournament in 1559.

Keep reading the rest of this really interesting article sent in to us by our own dear Stephanie by clicking HERE.

Okay, here’s another one from Stephanie…click on the title to read the article.  And it’s just as wild as it sounds.

Groom discovers his bride is actually a MAN… TWELVE DAYS after their wedding: ‘Wife’ avoided sex by saying ‘she was on her period’

This next one was sent in by our multi-talented Stephen B.  It’s a really good story.  Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not.  I think it probably is, though.

True story? But a great read, and if you don’t get a bit misty you aren’t alive!

“Watch out! You nearly broadsided that car!” My father yelled at me. “Can’t you do anything right?”

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in th e seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another battle.

“I saw the car, Dad . Please don’t yell at me when I’m driving..”

My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts…. dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often.

The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn’t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn’t do something he had done as a younger man. Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.

At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky… he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders.

Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults.

The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.

Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.

Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad ‘s troubled mind.

But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.

Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, “I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article..”

I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair.

As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.

Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. “Can you tell me about him?”

The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. “He’s a funny one..

Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.”

He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. “You mean you’re going to kill him?”

“Ma’am,” he said gently, “that’s our policy.. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.”

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision.

“I’ll take him,” I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch… “Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!” I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. “If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it” Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me.. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. “You’d better get used to him, Dad . He’s staying!”

Dad ignored me. “Did you hear me, Dad ?” I screamed.

At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp.. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad ‘s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne .

Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years.. Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne’s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night.

I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father’s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.

The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.

And then the pastor turned to Hebrew s 13:2. “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

“I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,” he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article…

Cheyenne’s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter…  his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father… and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.

And if you don’t send this to at least 4 people — nobody cares! But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.

God answers our prayers in His time…….. not ours.

But He does indeed answer them.  Thanks Stephen, that was really nice.

Joe from NJ wrote to me and posed me this question…

One thing has always troubled me: 

Where did Noah put the termites?

He probably meant to leave them off the Ark.  I know I would have.  

Maryland, Baltimore Law

It is illegal to wash or scrub sinks, no matter  how dirty they get.

My wife and I had a big fight.  A BIG fight.  Afterwards she came crawling to me on her hands and knees…

Saying, “You come out from under that bed and fight like a man!”

A man walked into the ladies department of a Alders, one of the largest department store chains. 

He shyly walked up to the woman behind the counter and said. ‘I’d like to buy a bra for my wife’ 

‘What type of bra?’ asked the clerk. 

‘Type?’ inquires the man ‘There is more than one type?’ 

‘Look Around,’ said the saleslady, as she showed a sea of bras in every shape, size color and material. 

‘Actually, even with all of this variety, there are really only three types of bras,’ replied the salesclerk. 

Confused, the man asked what were the types. 

The saleslady replied ‘The Catholic type, the, Salvation Army type, and the Baptist type. Which one do you need?’ 

Still confused the man asked ‘What is the difference between them?’

The lady responded ‘It is all really quite simple. The Catholic type supports the masses, the Salvation Army type lifts up the fallen, and the Baptist type makes mountains out of mole hills

This was sent in by Joe from NJ and quite frankly, I don’t know whether to say thank you or not.

During Autumn of 2000, a team of scientists at the Department of Forensics at University College London removed a row of passenger seats from a Central Line tube carriage for analysis into cleanliness.

Despite London Underground’s claim that the interior of their trains are cleaned on a regular basis, the scientists made some alarming discoveries: 

This is what was found on the surface of the seats: 

* 4 types of hair sample (human, mouse, rat, dog) * 7 types of insect (mostly fleas, mostly alive) * vomit originating from at least 9 separate people * human urine originating from at least 4 separate people * human excrement * rodent excrement * human semen 

When the seats were taken apart, they found: 

* the remains of 6 mice * the remains of 2 large rats * 1 previously unheard of fungus 

It is estimated that by holding one of the armrests, you are transferring to your body the natural oils and sweat from as many as 400 different people. It is estimated that it is generally healthier to smoke five cigarettes a day than to travel for one hour a day on the London Underground. It is far more hygienic to wipe your hand on the inside of a recently flushed toilet bowl before eating, than to wipe your hand on a London Underground seat before eating. It is estimated that within London, more work sick-days are taken because of bugs picked up whilst traveling on the London Underground than for any other reason (including alcohol). 

And we believe you…sure we do.

HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO SEE A CROWD OF DEFENSELESS PEOPLE DIE BEFORE WE REALIZE BEING DEFENSELESS ISN’T THE ANSWER?

Wow!  WOW!  I want so much to know what the outcome of this is.

During a dinner party, the hosts’ two little children entered the dining room totally nude and walked slowly around the table. 

The parents were so embarrassed that they pretended nothing was happening and kept the conversation going. 

The guests cooperated and also continued as if nothing extraordinary was happening. 

After going all the way around the room, the children left, and there was a moment of silence at the table, during which one child was heard to say, “You see, it IS vanishing cream!” 

“Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” 

Mahatma Gandhi (1869 – 1948)

Older than that!!!

Well, that’s it my friends.  All out of time and got to get some sleep.  Until next time.