After serious & cautious consideration . . .

Your contract of friendship has been renewed for the New Year!

It was a very hard decision to make. So try not to mess it up!!! :)


My Wish for You in 2009:

May peace break into your house and may thieves come to steal your debts.

May the pockets of your jeans become a magnet for $100 bills.

May love stick to your face like Vaseline and may laughter assault your lips!

May your clothes smell of success like smoking tires.

May happiness slap you across the face.

May your tears be that of joy.

May the problems you had forget your home address!

In simple words . . . May 2009 be the best year of your life!!!

Play a game, feed a Hungry Critter!

Feed hungry dogs, Bow Wow Trivia http://www.freekibble.com/

Feed hungry cats, play Meow Trivia. http://www.freekibblekat.com


Hey, where are all my "followers"? I know I have more than five followers. Blogger told me I have more than 21 followers. Gads, I hope so!

Please sign up as a follower. You can even just use your initials to do it. You can remain anonymous!

THANKS!

I need all the encouragement I can get!

Been Alive 60 Years? You'll remember all of this...

Logon to this URL and get a short history of the last sixty years while rocking out to Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire."

http://yeli.us/Flash/Fire.html

Let's all work to make the next part of history a lot more enjoyable, shall we? It takes many, many humans behaving badly to make such a big mess. With just a little bit of consideration for others, we can change the mix to a preponderance of GOOD stuff.

YES WE CAN!!! We started on November 4th and we'll get seriously underway on January 20th!

De Kelley Nods... Sent by Mary Doman

Thanks for these, Mary! They're just terrific...

http://candorville.com/2008/07/27/fightingchance/

http://www.rudypark.com/editorialcartoons/topics/obituaries/990614bones.GIF

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

"There is no place like home for the holidays..."

I know the truth of the above better than some. I was away in Hollywood for fourteen years and only during a few of those years was I able to fly "home" to Washington State" (where I was raised and have spent more than half of my adult life) for Christmas. I missed it, a lot. It's one of the reasons I finally moved back five years ago, so I could be here to watch the "wee ones" (grand nieces Elizabeth, 10 Casey, 8, Isabella, 6 and Jamie, 4) open their presents with such abandon.

Opening presents alone -- or even with friends -- is just not the same. It makes Christmas Day sorta sad and nostalgic. But that's behind me now. I hope all of you have family to cuddle with today.

I've just added a widget to this blog so you can "sign on" as a follower of the blog, either publicly or anonymously. It would be great to know who's "hanging on every word" (HA HA HA HA HA! -- or every few blogs, at least)! So scroll down to the bottom of the page and please subscribe to the blog as a follower. It'll give me a grin to know who's following, since not everyone comments or e's me to let me know who y'all are.

Thanks! Now I'm going to get some hot chocolate and go sit with my family again over on Jackie's side of the home!

Hello, All!

Since I'm a valuable customer of VistaPrint, you qualify for a special "friends only" discount at Vista Print.

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When you get to the "check out" page of your purchase, you will receive your exclusive discount credited to your order. So check it out and order today!

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You received this message because I thought you might be interested in this promotion...

HO HO HO.... Very Cool.... Santas in all Shapes and Sizes, ALL with Great Hearts!

Enjoy!

http://cityguides.msn.com/citylife/cityarticle.aspx?cp-documentid=15971138

Follow This Link to My FAVORITE Christmas Song of all Time!

http://www.wrensworld.com/marydiduknow.htm

My mom's favorite Christmas song was THE LITTLE DRUMMER BOY... I also love SILENT NIGHT and O HOLY NIGHT....

...but the above link will take you to my absolute favorite Christmas song of all time.

Every time I hear it, I get the chills. The first time (and second time, and third time) I heard it, I wept.

Great song!!!

P.S. Although this isn't my favorite rendition of the song, if you will use the drop-down box at the site, there are additional links to some pretty special songs of the season (and any time, really). ENJOY!

If You Have a Dog and a Four Paws Pimple Ball, READ THIS AND GET RID OF THE BALL!

The Four Paws company has been negligent in not recalling their pimple ball in a major way (via a major nationwide media-wide public announcement) other than less-widely via their website (http://www.fourpaws.com/news/press-room/four-paws-rough-rugged-pimple-ball-with-bell.htm) . Over 500,000 balls are out there in people's homes and in some cases animals' tongues are being "sucked into" the balls and trapped, causing great pain and dire consequences (including the loss of some pets' tongues!).

Please read the following blog, protect your pet(s) from the pimple ball by getting rid of any you have (it's a good idea to return it to the store where you bought it along with a copy of the blogspot or the blogpot URL below to accompany the return, or by logging onto the Four Paws website -- above -- and following their instructions).

Please also let the writer of the blog below know if you, too, have a story like this to share with him and others. He is building a case against Four Paws for negligence in not more widely reporting the danger and in not reacting sooner when the company received similar complaints before his pet was grievously injured.Be on the lookout for the balls where you shop and be sure to tell the store manager the story wherever you see them. Our pets are at our mercy. We should be bringing home only the products of those companies who care as much for pets as we do!


http://www.thechaistory.blogspot.com/

KEEPING UP APPEARANCES BY LISA HAMNER

This totally-terrific story was written by huge DeForest Kelley Fan Lisa Hamner for her UCLA Extension writing class in 2007. ENJOY! I sure did!

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"You’re not my husband."

The brown haired, blue eyed man in the comfortable button down green shirt and slim blue slacks gaped at the woman in shock. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"I know my husband and well…you’re sure not acting like him. Unless you’re going senile and that would be very strange as you’re only 47 years old. But, you seem so different this evening. You’ve hardly touched your dinner. You almost look like you are…lost somehow," said the woman of the man as he sat with her at the dining room table.

"Very funny. Who else would I be?" he snapped.

The truth of the matter was, he wasn’t her husband. The woman was absolutely correct. The man sitting at her table looked exactly like the man she was married to, but he wasn’t. Though he was a human like she was, he was from the earth of the 23rd century. He was a surgeon; currently stationed as Chief Medical Officer on the USS Enterprise, a federation starship and normally went by the name of Doctor Leonard McCoy.

McCoy and his two companions: Captain James T. Kirk and Science Officer Spock, had been in the process of beaming down to Gamma Sudra II. Instead, due to a rip in time, they found themselves trapped into a different time and place. They’d materialized on Earth in the 20th century. The late 1960’s old Earth calendar, according to Spock’s calculations. To their great shock, their ship, the crew, their very lives were chronicled in something called a ‘television show’.

The trio had materialized into another ‘Enterprise’ transporter room which had become a three sided ‘set’. It had bright lights overhead that put forth a great amount of heat, a large, odd looking recording device pointed at them with the name ‘Panavision’ displayed on the side and a grouchy overweight man yelling out ‘cut’ in a large cavernous area referred to as a ‘soundstage’.

Everyone in this soundstage appeared irritated with them for not following something called a script and the man who was obviously in charge sent them all to their dressing rooms. The three men finally found those with some difficulty after managing to figure out what the hell a dressing room even was. Finally the man in charge said something about wrapping for the weekend and grumbling something about blowing a budget.


In the meantime, Spock and the captain had decided that it was best for the three of them to keep up appearances that they themselves were these actors as not to upset the time stream. So they’d played along with it.

Then the captain got the crazy idea that the three of them would actually go home to these actor’s families for the weekend, attempting to impersonate them, as not to upset the families of the actors.

Oh joy.

"Well," the woman continued, "Maybe you are my husband. You have to be. But why does your voice sound so harsh?" Suspicion continued to cloud her pretty features.

Doctor McCoy smiled at her, then softened his voice. "Is THIS better?"
"De?" The woman searched his blue eyes, almost frightened of him.

McCoy looked back at her with all the confidence he could muster. He’d learned the actor’s full name from an ID card known as a driver’s license. It featured an image of himself on it accompanied by the guy’s address in a wallet in the dressing room. 'De' was apparently the guy’s nickname. "Yes!" McCoy gently grabbed onto her shoulders and returned her deep soul searching gaze. "It’s me. De. Your husband!"

"Are you cracking up?"

McCoy chuckled and glanced down, it was going to be a difficult weekend with this lady. "Do you have anything to drink around here?"

"Well, that’s better," the lady answered. She was apparently relieved. "It makes me feel a lot better about you that we’re having our usual after dinner drink. I’ll go fix it. Your usual?"


"Yeah, I’ll have a Bourbon, straight up," McCoy replied without thinking.

"Bourbon? Not Vodka and water?"

He sighed. "Okay, Vodka it is." He would just have to deal with the awful taste for now.

"Darlin'," he said, hoping that was the man’s usual pet name for his wife, "just go fix me that drink, please? I’ve had a rough day."

"Certainly dear, but while I fix it, I’ve got lots of trash for you to take out."

"Trash?"

"Yes, the kitchen can is filled up and I need it taken out--"

"My dear," McCoy replied indignantly. "I’m a doctor, not a garbage man."

The woman giggled. "You’re saying it just like Doctor McCoy! That’s sweet. Now go take out the trash."

"Alright, alright. I’m going. Don’t we pay people to do that for us?"

She shook her head and smiled. Grumbling to himself, McCoy wandered around the house looking for the kitchen and found it rather too quickly. 'This house is a little too small for a movie star,' he thought. He’d been shocked when he’d pulled up to this address and saw how tiny the house was. Wasn’t this guy supposed to be a movie star? Didn’t movie stars live in huge mansions? At least that’s what came up on the guy on the tri-corder before it was confiscated by the properties master. The man had pulled his communicator, phaser and even his medical pouch away from him, leaving McCoy feeling totally naked and vulnerable.

McCoy pulled the full bag of trash out of the metal kitchen can that stood against the far wall. He opened some kitchen drawers and found a tie to tie it up with, hoping that was how one even took out the trash in this century.

Suddenly, he heard the patter of little feet walking up. "Oh hey, little fella," he said to the dog. It took one sniff of him then growled and barked. "How ya doing, little guy? I won’t hurt you."

"Can you feed Cheers?" came the voice from the living room. "He’s hungry."

"Do this. Do that," McCoy said to the dog. “I thought I was supposed to be a goddamned movie star--"

"De? Is that you swearing in there?" called the voice.

"No, Sweetheart!" he yelled back. "It’s me taking out the trash! Okay, I’ll feed the dog when I’m finished."

"Be careful out front. It’s still light outside. There’s a bunch of children playing across the street," she warned.

"What’s that got to do with anything?" McCoy wondered as he grabbed the bag. "I’ll just be a minute." He was bewildered at her sudden concern for his safety. Noticing that she’d specified: 'out front' he marched out the front door, strode up to the cans at the curb and slammed the bag into one of them.

"Hey!" yelled one of the children as they spotted him. "It’s Doctor McCoy!" The large group suddenly scampered across the street and surrounded him. "Hi Doctor McCoy!" they chimed in unison.

"Hi there, kids."

"Did the Enterprise blast anymore Klingons today--go on say ‘he’s dead Jim’--how’s Mister Spock--is he still on the Enterprise--is Scotty going to beam you up--has Scotty fixed the ship again--are you going to any more planets--go on say it! Say: 'HE’S DEAD JIM!'" the children demanded of him, all at once.

"He’s dead, Jim," chuckled McCoy. The kids screamed and laughed with delight.

McCoy smiled quizzically as they continued to swarm around him and press. He tried to back away, but they circled him, effectively trapping him in. It was swiftly becoming uncomfortable.

"Hey kids!" called the woman from the porch. "Doctor McCoy needs to get back into the house. He’s had a long day in sickbay."


"Awwwwllllll," the kids whined. Not moving an inch.

The woman stormed off the porch, stalked up and grabbed the doctor by the arm. "Children now, enough is enough. Go back home," she said sternly. "And nobody steals our roses this time. Got it?"

The children grumbled, slowly dispersed and slunked dejectedly back across the street to where they stood watching him.

"Bye kids!" waved McCoy. "Thanks,” he whispered to the wife.

"Come on Honey, let’s get back inside," she insisted. She spotted the empty driveway and stopped in her tracks. "De? Where’s the Thunderbird?"

'Oh oh', thought McCoy. He hemmed and hawed while he searched for a suitable answer for her that wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion. He couldn’t successfully drive an Earth ground car, even if the one parked in the guy’s parking spot was a beauty. After much discussion and many attempts, the three of them had decided to take public transport home. Known colloquially as a ‘cab’. It was just like taking a cab home in the 23rd century, except these 20th century cabs were black and white with a checkerboard across the door, had ground wheels, were a lot smellier and not driven by Tellerites.

Actually come to think of it, the cabs in the 23rd century were just as smelly. "Uhh…" drawled McCoy. He grabbed her arm and propelled her back into the house. "It’s still at the…uh… studio."

"Why?"

"Because…" He continued to fish for an answer. "It…wouldn’t start. I took a cab home."

"It wouldn’t start? That’s strange. It’s a brand new car."

"I know, I know. Damndest thing, really."

"Well, maybe the battery's dead. Did you leave the lights on?"

McCoy shrugged.

"Maybe,” she suggested. “It has to do with you smashing into Leonard the other day in the parking lot. You know, that was really stupid."

"Yeah!" he laughed. "It IS stupid. You’re right! Who gets into an accident in a parking lot?"
"You do."

McCoy laughed. "Well there you go. That’s why it wouldn’t start." He breathed out, relieved. Perfect!

"Then what are we going to do for Saturday? What about driving down to Long Beach?"

"Long Beach?!" That town had long since fallen into the ocean after the big earthquake of 2189. McCoy had only heard of it from old history tapes of old California. "What the devil is so great about Long Beach?" he sputtered. The wife gave him a dirty look. "Okay okay, forget I asked. Listen, how about you and I just stay right around here? We could go for a walk up to that shopping center just up the road, tomorrow."

"Walk? In Sherman Oaks? In this heat? You’ll get recognized! And mobbed!"

"So?"

"You know what happened last week at Ralphs."

"Well I’m not going to be a prisoner in this house all weekend. If I’m here, I’m damn well gonna enjoy myself."

"Maybe you could cut the lawn tomorrow."

"Don’t tell me… we don’t pay anybody to do that either."

As the woman threw him a puzzled look, McCoy walked into the kitchen to feed the dog. He searched around for the packets of dog food for a long while, quickly becoming frustrated.

"Hey Sweetheart?" he called out to the living room. "Where in the name of God, is the dog food?"

"It’s right there in front of you," she called out. "The tin can’s on the kitchen counter."

"What… this?" He picked up the can. "This is dog food?" As he inspected it, he noticed the picture of a little dog that looked just like Cheers. 'Great,' he thought. 'The dog is a movie star, too.'

"And how in blazes do I open this?" he mumbled to himself, studying the can. It was sealed shut and appeared to have no way to pop the seal.

"Are you okay in there? Hurry up so you can have your drink!"

"I’m a doctor. I should be able to figure this damn thing out." He hefted the can, perplexed. He could not figure the damn thing out. As he examined it he realized that it wasn’t actually 'tin' like she'd described, but aluminum, probably an alloy. Who the devil still sealed things in aluminum? Didn’t they realize that it leached into the food? Was it just dog food they stored in this way? Or all their food? He opened up a cabinet door to investigate and got his answer.

Disgusting.

He then opened up something that resembled a cold storage unit, but not as efficient, and found with relief that actually quite a bit of their food was fresh. Well as fresh as it could be in this inefficient cold storage unit. So they stored food both ways. Well, at least it wasn’t re-constituted.

"De?" the woman called out impatiently.

"Just a minute," his voice rang out extra sweetly.

"Are you okay? What’s taking so long?"

"I’m fine. I said, JUST A MINUTE!" He was getting increasing annoyed with her. Not quite to the point of being angry, but almost. It was amazing that this woman could irritate him as much as somebody else he knew: Mister Spock. 'I wonder how that Vulcan’s getting along anyway,' McCoy thought. He smiled evilly as he pictured Spock dealing with a wife and two kids all weekend.

"Alright darlin'," McCoy finally called out, "don’t be alarmed, but could you come in here a minute, please?”

She appeared in an instant. "What’s the matter?"

"Just show me, quickly, how to open this can of dog food before I throw it across the room."

"What? Don’t you know? But you always feed the dog. The can opener is right there. Are you feeling alright, Honey?"

"Where?!” he demanded of her breathlessly and waving his arms. "Where is the can opener?"

"Right here," she indicated. "The Rival. Sitting on the counter."

He looked at the contraption and sighed deeply. The evening was getting worse and worse.

"What? That… THING? That’s a can opener?"

"You brought it home, De. It was the best that Blue-Chip Stamps could get."


Blue- Chip Stamps? Oh…right. He’d read something on the tri-corder about the S & H Green/Blue Chip voucher system prevalent in the old USA throughout the 1960’s and ‘70’s. When you bought groceries, you got stamps, when you bought the gasoline they used to power their automobiles, you got stamps. It was an incentive program to purchase things, he supposed. Maybe their economy was bad during this time. Stamps could be redeemed for anything, toys, appliances, etc. The more you had saved up the bigger and better things you could get.

"That must of cost a hell of a lot of stamps," McCoy observed.

"Two thousand,” she replied without missing a beat. "See?" She pulled a little book out of a drawer and showed him.

McCoy spotted some loose stamps in the bottom of the drawer, pulled one out and examined it. "I suppose I stuck all these little stamps into these books, too."

"Well, of course you did. You really enjoy doing that. Don’t you remember?"

"Sure I do…and now I definitely need a drink." McCoy shook his head at the thought of the guy patiently sticking stamps in books. He thrust the dog food can at her. "You open this. I’m going to go lie down on the couch."

"Good idea," she agreed.

He flopped down onto the sofa and nervously sipped at the drink she’d fixed him. The wide rejoined him in the living room with the dog following, still growling at him. "Nice doggie," he murmured.

"Honey," she said. "You are frightening me. Please tell me what is going on."

"What do you mean, 'I’m frightening you’?" McCoy asked, a little too gruffly.

"The dog doesn’t even recognize you. You seem very, very odd. I’m worried about you. Maybe you need to go to bed early. You’re exhausted. You’ve been working too hard."

'Sleep,' McCoy mused. 'Yeah, maybe she’s got something there'. Maybe if he closed his eyes, then re-opened them, this nightmare he was in would disappear and he’d be back on the ship.

"How about a cigarette?" she suggested. "You haven’t had one since you’ve been home."

"Cigarette? People still smoke in this day and age?"

"Hmmm. Maybe I will call the doctor--"

McCoy snatched her hand. "No…don’t," he sighed. "Look. I can’t lie to you. I just can’t do it. You know your husband too well," he paused, looked at her, thought: ‘oh…what the hell’ and continued on, softly: "What would you do if I told you a really…incredible story. Would you believe me?"

"Depends on what it was," she said. Her eyes suddenly widened. "You don’t want a divorce, do you?"

He laughed. "No! It’s nothing like that. And I’m not having an affair, either,” he added, anticipating her next question. "But Sweetheart, hear me out, I have something really…really bizarre to tell you. So…I’ll just come right out with it,” he hesitated, then blurted out: "I’m not really your husband. I look exactly like him. But I’m not. I’ve been trying to pretend I’m him all day, but I just can’t fool you. I’m sorry."

"WHAT?" She jumped up from the loveseat. "Wha—What’s the matter with you? What do you mean, you’re not really my husband?"

He stood up too. "If I finish telling you the whole truth, will you please just try to remain calm?"

"Okay…" she said weakly and sat back down. "I think I'm gonna faint."

"Well you're in good hands if you do. You...uh... know that television show that your husband is in?"

"Star Trek?"

"Yes! I’m really that guy that he plays on that television show. I’m Doctor Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise. It’s all real! I’m really from the future! You see...there was a...some sort of ion storm or something...it’s uh...like a cloud of electricity...and uh...our transporter malfunctioned and here we are!" He grinned. "You see we were beamed into this television studio set that looks just like our very own Enterprise...and...why are you looking at me like that…?”

"Now I’m REALLY calling the doctor!"

"No! Don’t! Okay Sweetheart? Just don’t. Just...come on."

She huffed at him, folding her arms. "Don’t 'sweetheart' me! You’re making me very angry, De!"

"Well, first of all, the name’s not De. It’s Leonard."

"Uh huh," the woman sighed in frustration. "And... I suppose that Mister Spock is a real person, too."

"Actually he IS real. With real pointy ears. And so is Captain Kirk!"

"Why are you doing this to me? It’s not funny!" Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Oh…please…don’t cry." McCoy reached over and patted her arm. "Look. You didn’t believe that I WAS your husband when I first came home, so, now I’m telling you the truth. I’m most definitely not him."

"So then, where IS my husband?" she asked, tightly.

McCoy stared up at the ceiling. "Up on the Enterprise in the 23rd century. Probably trying to make sense of my sickbay. Hopefully not messing the place up."

The wife got very quiet. "Will he be okay?"

"Sure!"

"Well, I guess I should be lucky that you aren’t Toby Jack," she replied dryly.

"Who?"

She looked up, lost in thought. "I hope De’s okay."

"He’s fine! Honestly! Chapel’s probably looking after him. And he’ll be back just as soon as Scotty can pull US back."

"Chapel? As in Nurse Christine Chapel?" She became angry again as McCoy nodded happily. She got up and stormed off.

"Oh…what now?" he asked. He heard her open the sliding glass door to let herself into the backyard. "You don’t believe me, do you," he yelled out.

"No!" she called back, “but now I think you ARE having an affair. With that Nurse Chapel gal!"

"Listen!" McCoy got up and followed her out to the backyard. "When your husband does return, he’s going to have just as fantastic of a story as I do."

"I’ll bet!"

"So will the other two. You can ask them."

"I know those two guys you work with and they all love a good practical joke and this is just one of them, isn’t it. It’s not funny at all. Imagine, getting your wives involved in your crazy stunts. First Leonard’s bicycle, now this!"

"I don't own a bicycle," McCoy replied. 'Wow', he thought as she snapped her head around. 'If looks could kill.'

He walked over to the yard to avoid her glare. "Oh my, this is beautiful. I haven’t walked on grass like this in a long time."

"You’re out here working in the yard every weekend, De. Oh right…I forgot…you don’t have grass in the 23rd century," she snapped.

"Well, we do! But not on the Enterprise. And there’s nothing like the grass on Earth. I haven’t beamed down to Earth in a long time."

"Don’t say that so loud!" she hissed. "We do have neighbors!"

McCoy laughed. "Sorry." He sat down on the grass cross legged. "Gee this is nice. Look at all those beautiful roses."

"You planted all those," she sniffed.

"Awwllll, hey…" he said beckoning. "Come sit down here with me."

"Don’t you want us to sit in the lawn chairs?"

"No…let’s sit right here, on the grass." He patted the ground. As if on cue the dog came bounding out of the house and walked up to him, growling softly. "Does this dog do this all the time?" he wondered.

"Cheers!" she said. "What’s the matter? It’s your daddy!"

"I’ve never seen this breed of dog before." McCoy attempted to whistle at it to make friends, but the dog wasn’t buying it. It bared its teeth and barked sharply.

"It’s a Schnoodle," she said.

"A what?"

"A cross between a Poodle and a Schnauser," she replied hesitantly.

"And what the devil is this?" He looked at a large moving shelled object, slowly making its way up to him through the grass, pausing every once in a while to munch on a blade.

"What are you talking about? That’s Myrtle."

"That’s a Myrtle?"

"No. It’s a turtle. You don’t know what a turtle is?"

"Well yes, I've heard of them, but I've never seen one before. We don’t have turtles in the 23rd century. They’re extinct,” McCoy explained, then sighed. "Any more pets I should be concerned about? What about a cat? Or a rabbit? Or a goldfish? How about a hamster?"

"No…this is it. Just a dog and a turtle. So they have hamsters in the 23rd century, but no turtles?"

"No turtles," grinned McCoy. "I have a hamster in my quarters."

"Uh huh." She rolled her eyes. Suddenly, there was a loud ringing noise. The woman looked over at McCoy, slowly got up, muttering as she went into the house. McCoy watched her leave, then reached over and picked up the turtle, examining underneath it.

"Leonard-- I mean--De!” the woman called out from the house. "It’s for you."

"What’s for me?" Was that some type of communications device he’d heard? If it was, who the hell would be signaling him?

"The telephone call is for you! Come in here and answer it! You have a lot of explaining to do, buster!"

He gently laid the turtle back down, got up and walked into the house over to where she was holding a black device. Presumably the ‘telephone’. He looked at her before speaking into it. She stormed off. He timidly held it up to his ear as he’d seen people do in old images of earth, hoped he was speaking into the correct receiver. "Uh…De, here."

"Bones?" The voice of Captain Kirk rang out on the other end.

"Jim? Is that you? Why the hell are you so chipper this evening? I’ve noticed you’ve learned how to use this thing."

"Oh, I know quite a lot about life in the 1960’s old Earth calendar. It was a breeze," Kirk said, happily.

"Well good for you, because I can’t even figure out how to open up a can of dog food. Aluminum cans Jim. They store food in aluminum!"

"Do they? That’s disgusting."

"I want to go home. Now. Jim."

"I'd of thought you of all people would be able to function in this century. Whatever happened to 'I’m just a good old fashioned country doctor?'"

"That went out with the damned Blue-Chip Stamps, Jim!"

"The… what?"

"Never mind. What do you want, anyway?"

"What’s the matter, Bones? Not getting along with the wife?"

"No. Half the time she doesn’t believe it’s her husband, but when I tried to tell her who I really was, she didn’t believe that either."

"So that’s why she asked me what your name was. It’s not a good idea to tell these people the truth about us, Bones."

"Relax Jim. She just thinks her husband’s snapped. But on the bright side, they have a turtle!"

"A... what?"

"I thought you knew so much about Earth in the 1960’s. They have a turtle named Myrtle! It’s an Earth reptile, with a shell."

"Myrtle the turtle?" Kirk and McCoy laughed at that in unison. "Turtles are extinct, Bones."

"They are, aren’t they. Too bad. God Jim, I’d love to take some of this creature’s DNA back home with us to clone. It’s gorgeous!"

"You’re not taking Myrtle home with you!" the woman’s voice rang out.

"I thought this was supposed to be a private telephone call!" McCoy snapped back at her.

"Wow," said Kirk. “You two really aren’t getting along. Bones, you don’t seem to get along with anybody, do you.”

"You be quiet, Jim. You try getting along with someone who questions your every move."

"That’s too bad, Bones. I’ve been getting along famously with my...uh...his...wife. She’s really something. She and I have been...you know...getting acquainted.”

McCoy nearly dropped the phone. "Are you out of your mind?" he whispered sharply. "You can’t sleep with another man’s wife!"

"Well I figured that since I look exactly like the guy I’m impersonating, there was no harm in it," Kirk said breezily.

"No HARM in it? Jim! I can personally think of twenty- five different ways that it could go absolutely wrong. And, If you think, I am also...going to do that...you can forget it. No way in hell, am I taking advantage of another man’s wife!"

"Well, Bones, I’m sorry you feel that way. You’re going to have to find a way to deal with your own situation till Monday. Try not to kill each other, okay? I’ve got to go."

"Yeah, but Jim--" McCoy heard a click on the receiver and the captain was gone. He slammed the phone down onto the hook. Doing so seemed so satisfying. He needed one of those things in the 23rd century.

McCoy slowly, reluctantly rejoined the wife on the sofa in the living room. She fumed at him for a very long time. He sat, slowly sipping his drink, not speaking to her, till he couldn’t stand it any longer. "Look, I’m really sorry about all this." He waved his hand between them.

"Doctor McCoy, really! And to think I almost believed you! That’s not what Bill said on the phone, you two need to get your stories straight."

McCoy held out his hands in a 'mea culpa' gesture and shrugged.

She threw a pillow at him. "Oh… you!"

"I had you going for a moment, Carolyn. Didn’t I?" He laughed.

She finally looked over at him, and joined him in the hysterical laughter.
_________________
finis
Dedicated to the memory of DeForest and Carolyn Kelley.
Lisa Hamner 2007

It's C-C-C-C-COLD, Dammit!!!

Times THREE!

(Hope you're tucked in and warm, the rest of y'all!!!)

Living Together in Perfect Harmony...

Animals are more spiritually advanced than we commonly realize.

Stuart Brown describes Norbert Rosing's striking images of a wild polar bear coming upon tethered sled dogs in the wilds of Canada 's Hudson Bay .

The photographer was sure that he was going to see the end of his dogs

when the polar bear wandered in.

The Polar Bear returned every night that week to play with the dogs.

Another Good Newsweek Article -- Re Rick Warren as Invocation Pastor for Obama Inauguration

http://www.newsweek.com/id/176269

I love civil discourse.

Good article.

Creation Remembers Majel Barrett

It was the mid eighties and Star Trek was reborn with The Next Generation. The Paramount lot was buzzing with the new production and Gene Roddenberry was once again doing what he did best, overseeing a Star Trek TV show. His beautiful wife Majel called us to say that she had a surprise and she was bringing it to our show at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles that weekend (the hotel has all but been razed to make way for a public school, definitely the loss of a cultural landmark). The surprise turned out to be Marina Sirtis, in what would be her first convention appearance. Majel was beaming with pride at this new ingenue of the Star Trek universe.

Later, we happened to see Gene and Majel in the bar right outside the beautiful Coconut Grove, and you could see that they were deeply in love, holding hands and laughing.

That act of putting the fans first was typical of the First Lady of Star Trek, Majel Roddenberry, a strong, intelligent, beautiful woman who touched our hearts - and our lives. We remember warm afternoons with Majel on stage while her baby boy Rod slept peacefully in the vendors room. We remember powerful speeches in which she conjectured on the promise of the future, following much the same humanistic themes as her husband. We recall her impassioned support of scientific exploration and progress and the true belief that our society would evolve beyond its current barriers of prejudice, class division, poverty and oppression.

We remember her standing by the side of her husband, the Great Bird of the Galaxy, as he sat in his wheelchair on stage in the Shrine Auditorium to the tumultuous thunder of thousands of people applauding and cheering when we all honored Gene and the 25th Anniversary of Star Trek. We remember the voice of the Computer, the one constant through series and movies.
We remember Nurse/Doctor Christine Chapel, with professional demeanor and legs that went on forever and Number One, clearly the commanding officer of the original Enterprise, a woman willing to sacrifice her life for her enlightened principles.

We remember parties at the Roddenberry home with hundreds of guests laughing, celebrating, and legends of Hollywood in attendance.

Mostly we remember a loving, caring lady who was devoted to her family and to the fandom that celebrated the triumph of Star Trek. Always in our hearts, we'll miss you Majel.

Adam and GaryCreation Entertainment

The Fabulous 50's -- Favorite Christmas Songs

Get a cup of cocoa and click on the ones you love best, then think of me thinking of you!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

A Holly Jolly ChristmasBurl Ives
Away In A MangerLoretta Lynn
Christmas AlphabetThe McGuire Sisters
Christmas Country ChristmasThe Statler Brothers
Christmas In My HometownSonny James
Christmas SongAlvin & The Chipmunks
Christmas Times A ComingBill MonroeAnd The Bluegrass Boys
Christmas WaltzFrank Sinatra
Christmas Without YouKenny RogersDolly Parton
Frosty The SnowmanGene Autry
Grandma Got Run OverBy A ReindeerElmo & Patsy
Hard Rock Candy ChristmasDolly Parton
Hark The Herald Angels SingNat King Cole
Have Yourself A VeryMerry ChristmasRosemary Clooney
Home For The HolidaysPerry Como
Its Beginning To LookA Lot Like ChristmasBing Crosby &The Andrew Sisters
I Saw Mommy KissingSanta ClausJimmy Boyd
Its a Most WonderfulTime Of The YearJohnny Mathis
Jingle Bell RockBobby Helms
Jingle BellsRoy RogersMost Interesting Middle!
Jingle BellsPerry Como
Jingle BellsThe Jingle Bell Piggie
Joy To The WorldNat King Cole
Leroy, the Redneck ReindeerJoe Diffie
Let It SnowAndy Williams
Lets Put ChristBack Into ChristmasTammy Wynette
Little Drummer BoyNeil Diamond
O Christmas TreeNat King Cole
Please Come HomeThe Platters
Pretty PaperRoy Orbison
Rocking Around TheChristmas TreeBrenda Lee
Rudolph The RedNose ReindeerGene Autry
Rudolph The RedNose ReindeerUnknown Group
Santa BabyCynthia Basinet
Santa Claus IsComing To TownBing Crosby
Santa Claus IsWatching YouRay Stevens
Silver BellsBing Crosby/Peggy Lee
Silent NightDean Martin
Sleigh RideJohnny Mathis
The First NoelAndy Williams
Up On The HousetopGene Autry
White ChristmasBing Crosby
White ChristmasThe Drifters (1954)
Winter WonderlandBrenda Lee
ChristmasWith Elvis

A CHRISTMAS STORY by Rian B Anderson

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving. It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted so bad that year for Christmas.

We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible. So after supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up the big sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on.

When we had exchanged the sideboards Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood--the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"

"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what? "Yeah," I said, "why?" "I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked.

"Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us. It shouldn't have been our concern. We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"

"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?" Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all.

Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. "We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children--sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said, then he turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring enough in to last for awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and, as much as I hate to admit! it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks and so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy filled my soul that I'd never known before. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord himself has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us." In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it. Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their pa, and I was glad that I still had mine. At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest, my two older brothers and two older sisters were all married and had moved away. Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, 'May the Lord bless you,' I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. So, Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."
I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. Yes, I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Just then the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities.

Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children. For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night; he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

You're Invited!

http://www.frontiernet.net/~jimdandy/specials/xmas.htm

HA HA HA HA HA!

Too, Too Funny!

I had to send a handwriting sample to a prospective Elance buyer to see if we'd be compatible as partners in a project he had listed online. So I dutifully faxed over a sample.

He reported back that although he had already settled on another service provider who had a background in legal and handwriting analysis, he wanted me to know that I should cross my T's and make my below-line letters longer or else I might lose jobs because the way I write indicates that I'm "low energy and very reserved."

HUH?!!!

(For those of you who know me, you said, "HUH?!!" too, didn't you?)

I'm like Garfield's little dog buddy Odie or like Tigger in the "energy" and "reserved" departments, fer gosh sakes!

I was carefully trained to write properly, very, very legibly, and not to "fancify" unnecessarily. I just about spit my iced tea across the table when I read I had been diagnosed as reserved and low energy based on my handwriting!

People have for years been telling me to "chill out," "settle down," "take time to smell the roses," so I'm about as far from low energy as... as.... as a spinning top or a cyclone. And perhaps I am reserved down deep (I'm admitted painfully shy), but I'm so good at hiding it ("acting the part") that when I tell people I'm shy, they laugh -- no, they guffaw!

My handwriting has gotten smaller and more cramped over the years but that's because I'm almost 58 years old. My personality and energy level haven't changed anywhere near as much as my hand ligaments and muscles have, because I keyboard now much more frequently than I write by hand, so I'm kinda rusty when I write by hand, and certainly less flamboyant -- because when I "flamboy," I can't read what I write anymore!

So this fellow was off the mark in discerning my core nature and energy level based on my penmanship. I wrote a reply to him to let him know (with all due respect), but couldn't send it because his project had already been awarded and all interaction cuts off at that point unless I'm the one chosen.

So I'll joke about it here and hope that all handwriting analysts will learn a thing or two from the anecdote. We "older people" with high energy and keyboards are not being "analyzed" properly by some of you folks.

Now if you'll excuse me I'll take my reserved body to bed and have a nap!

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

(That was a punchline! A joke to end a silly subject!)

GOT'CHA!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like CHRISTMAS!

Snow is accumulating outside. We've had a fireplace crackling for several days now because the temperatures dropped into the mid 20's -- too cold for snow until today.

It's 34 right now and we're supposed to get up to six inches of the white stuff before eventide. (Eventide? Hey, cut me some slack, will ya? I always talk funny during the Christmas holiday! T'is the season to be jolly... and Olde English-y... and I don't even drink eggnog, unless it's virgin.)

I have a haircut appointment at 5:30 but think my hairdresser will probably call to cancel it. She lives about 20 miles away (in deeper snow) and it would be foolish for her to come in -- or, if she does, to stay much past five. That might be good, because I'm also scheduled to have dinner with my Writer's Edge ministry partner Yvonne Olson ... again, weather and road conditions permitting.

I may (or may not) be scarce over the next several days here in the blogosphere. I accepted an assignment that will take a 40 hour week (to start), and two more projects may come up alongside that one (for a 50 page e-book and something else). So even my spare time might get engulfed. I'll certainly get by here as often as I can.. fear not! (There we go again, getting biblical! "Fear Not... I bring you tidings of great joy. For unto us is born this day in the City of David a savior...")

There's a problem with the 40 hour project, though... it seems every time I logon to do it, something at the other end cues my PC to download a software program, which I cancel, of course! (The buyer said that's not supposed to happen, and she's looking into it.) When I try to access it another way, a replicator reproduces the buyer's home page hundreds of times and freezes up my computer! So if the buyer can't figure out what that's all about, I will be backing out of that project. It would be sad, because it could be an ongoing assignment as many hours a week as I want to commit to doing it, and it would be a great "filler" job whenever I don't have something else that pays better to do... It would be PERFECT for that! It's a n0- brainer (commenting on a specific blog) and doesn't pay much, but it would pay my part of the mortgage and my other monthly bills, so it's worth pursuing, if we can just figure out what the bug is!)

Back to the weather: My half of the house is much cooler than Jackie's end, so we have the door open between the two halves, with a large fan blowing heat from her side into mine. Even with that, it's just 66 degrees in my side (probably colder in this den, because it's located around two corners, so getting heat back here is problematic).

Aunt Tod left me a corner "radiator" but before I drag it out from the shed, I have to go online and look up its serial number/model number and see if it was recalled by the manufacturer. I know one of the Wal-Mart radiators was (fire hazard), so I want to be careful. Don't want to burn the place down getting a few degrees warmer! 64-66 degrees is shirt sleeve weather (in the summer). Why does it seem so much colder when there's snow or ice outside? Methinks it's psychological. My brains are playing tricks on me.

(If that's the case, why are my fingers thinking about the ecstacy of gloves?)

WOOHOO! Obama Named Time's Person of the Year!

No surprise, of course, but I love the article that goes with the honor! Hope you do, too!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28271716?GT1=43001

My IQ is 144... and... De Kelley is Out On a New DVD!!!

Photo Courtesy of http://stevecanyondvd.blogspot.com/

Hey, De Kelley Fans!

There's a new Steve Canyon DVD with an episode on it featuring De!

Check it out at the URL beneath the photo, above.

Steve Canyon On DVD is owned and maintained by The Milton Caniff Estate. Steve Canyon is a Registered Trademark of the Milton Caniff Estate. Copyright ©1947, 1958, 1959, 1975, 1986, 1987, 2006, 2007 and 2008 by The Milton Caniff Estate. Steve Canyon is The Intellectual Property of the Milton Caniff Estate.

All Rights Reserved.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I finally broke down and took one of those darned "test your IQ" quizzes. Two people on Facebook challenged me to take it. (I don't know who.) I've been thinking about doing that for a while, but was a little hesitant because I got such a great score in high school that I always wondered how much of my brain power has left me since then.

Turns out I shouldn't have worried too much about it. I got a score of 144 tonight. In high school my IQ was 140. Eegads! Does this mean I'm only incrementally smarter than I was in high school? Oooh... that's a scary thought!

Guess what? My IQ is a lot higher than (if this surprises you, I'll kick you next time I'm near you!) George Bush's (123) and Sarah Palin's (118), and just a wee bit lower than Joe Biden's (146). I don't know what Barack Obama's IQ is, but aim to find out! I bet he's Mensa material (150 and above). Did you know that Walter Keonig is? He scored something like 178 -- hugely impressive!

Barack Obama's estimated IQ score range is 130 to 148 and quite possibly higher...

Finally -- a really smart President and Vice President who use their intellect to do good things for others instead of selfishly for themselves! WAHOO!

End of partisan politics for another season..

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL

AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!

HAPPY CHANUKKAH

HAPPY KWANZAA

Worth the Read...

http://www.newsweek.com/id/174299?GT1=43002


...but this time out, fewer voters were bamboozled by Republican spin tactics and misinformation than ever before... so that's the good news!

And I hope by now Obama has shown most McCain supporters that he isn't planning any outragees for our beleaguered nation... or any other.

So far, I'm extraordinarily pleased with all his choices, decisions and statements. And this isn't a partisan statement in any way, shape or form.

If he keeps it up, we're going to be mighty proud thAT 52% of the voting population voted for him!

And I say YAY TO THAT!

Havah: The Story of Eve

I was skeptical that Tosca Lee would be able to catch lightning in a bottle twice after the debut of her first novel, DEMON: A MEMOIR, but my skepticism was for nought...

She has written another amazing chronicle. Read it and feel -- to the very core of your being --what it was like for Eve to lose Eden with a single bad decision.

http://havahstoryofeve.com/main.php

You'll never hear the story any other way after experiencing it in this way. That's a promise!

Kelley Fans -- Get Ovuh There and Support T'Prillah's De Page!

http://deforestkelleyforever.blogspot.com/

If you have any special memories or photos to share with her, email her from her blogspot page... URL above...

She has some great photos there already.

T'Prillah... would your initials happen to be LH?

Bush is Bushwhacking Us Right to the Last Possible Moment. REACT NOW! TODAY!

The following message from long-time environmental advocate, Robert Redford, urges Americans to protest President Bush's plan to auction off Utah's Redrock wilderness to oil and gas speculators on December 19. It was sent to you by http://www.nrdcactionfund.org


Dear Friend,

No one voted on Election Day to hand over Utah's Redrock wilderness to oil companies. But the Bush Administration cynically chose that very day to advance an outrageous plan that will sell off leases for some300,000 acres of spectacular Utah canyonlands to oil and gas speculators.

While America was voting for Barack Obama and his vision of a clean energy future, Bush and Cheney's underlings were conspiring to plunder one of the crown jewels of our natural heritage for their fossil fuel cronies.

Please register your own opposition right now. http://www.nrdcactionfund.org/wilderness_giveaway

The auction of Redrock country will take place on December 19. At stake are world-renowned vistas near Canyonlands and Arches National Parks, as well as near Dinosaur National Monument.

The highest bidders will earn the right to turn vast tracts of pristine wilderness into industrial wastelands.

It's bad enough that Bush officials went behind the backs of the American people with this disastrous scheme. But what's worse, they didn't even tell their own National Park Service until after the fact.

In my mind, this theft of our heritage goes beyond the cynical-- it's criminal. What will be left to give to our children and their children if we allow this administration, in a parting shot, to destroy our legacy of public lands for short-term gain?

I hope you're as angry as I am about this blatant land grab, because we've got to stop it -- and we have to act fast. The NRDC Action Fund is mobilizing more than one million Americans in an outpouring of protest over the coming days.

Send your own message of opposition immediately. Tell the BushAdministration that you will not allow it to destroy one of the most beautiful places on Earth. http://www.nrdcactionfund.org/wilderness_giveaway

We'll automatically send copies of your message to your two Senators, your representative, and to the Obama transition team,which has signaled their opposition to this disastrous attack on our Redrock heritage.

The Bush Administration is racing to complete the auction of our lands before Inauguration Day, which will make sales difficult to reverse.

We must fend off this land grab now -- before the oil and gas companies can lay claim to the spoils. Those spoils include stretches of Desolation Canyon, which has been proposed for national park status.

Bush's own InteriorDepartment describes the canyon as "a place where a visitor can experience true solitude -- where the forces of nature continueto shape the colorful, rugged landscape."

The very idea of oil and gas operations invading these remote sanctuaries -- which have remained untouched for millennia -- is deeply upsetting. Once the dirty deed is done, our wilderness can never be restored.

That's why I'm asking you to help us sound the alarm and organize now.

Tell the Bush Administration to cancel the Redrock auction. Remind them that we the people are the rightful owners of this majestic wilderness and that we won't stand for its destruction.

http://www.nrdcactionfund.org/wilderness_giveaway

And thank you for joining with me and the NRDC Action Fund to save these beautiful wildlands for all future generations.

Sincerely,

Robert Redford
NRDC Action Fund

P.S. After you send your own message of protest, I'll let you know of an easy way to spread the word to your friends and family.

With only 10 days to mobilize one million Americans, I'm counting on you to rally everyone you know to speak out and save this precious wilderness from destruction.

http://www.nrdconline.org/campaign/stop_wilderness_giveaway?rk=FpSr9n6qNSpmW

Message to the World -- LOVE IT!

Dear World --

The United States of America, your quality supplier of ideals of liberty and democracy, would like to apologize for its 2001-2008 service outage.

The technical fault that led to this eight-year service interruption has been located. Replacement components were ordered Tuesday night, November 4th, and have begun arriving.

Early tests of the new equipment indicate that it is functioning correctly and we expect it to be fully operational by mid-January.

We apologize for any inconvenience caused by the outage and we look forward to resuming full service and hopefully even to improving it in years to come.

Thank you for your patience and understanding,

The USA

Uh Vey! News You Can Lose

I made the mistake of turning on the TV last night and being inundated with news about the Illinois governor, who was bent on selling Obama's Senate seat to the person who could do him (the governor) the most good. It isn't bad enough that Chicago politics and politicians have a long history of behaving badly (as in criminally)... now the Guv seems bent on implicating people who may or may not have had anything to do with his machinations (other than being interested in the Senate seat). I wouldn't believe a thing the Governor says if he does implicate others unless it has been caught on tape, because he sounds like a loose cannon and mentally ill besides.

I have been feeling hopeful about the future after seeing and reading the lengths Obama and his assemblage are going to, to be transparent and to invite all of us into the process. This Governor thing doesn't squash that, but it does remind me why it's so important to give citizens a clear window into how things have worked in the past and how they must work in the future if we want to have an informed opinion about how to vote moving forward.

It would seem to me to be a good idea to have a special election any time a House or Senate seat comes open, so that this kind of thing can't go on. I know many Governors are above board and honorable (I count my own Governor, Christine Gregoire, among them), but I'm quite sure they all aren't (sad to say), so why should we place that much power in their hands -- the power to replace someone "temporarily" until the next election? All things being equal, it shouldn't be a big deal that the Governor makes the choice, but... when you hear of loose cannons like the Illinois governor, it does give one pause!

Stuff like this just floors me. Maybe I'm naive (okay, YES, I'm naive!), but elected officials are supposed to have OUR best interests at heart, not their own. Any time we see stuff like this happening, we need to lower the boom on their punkin' heads and make it very plain that the behavior is unacceptable... and punishable... and that such dastardly misbehavior will be punished.

I just hope and pray Gov. B doesn't take a lot of honorable people down with him; that he won't spread lies about those who wouldn't play along with him on his schemes. It's so easy to be bruised, battered and deemed "suspect" when you've rubbed shoulders with others. "Guilt by association" is a subject for intense spin... and I know the so-called "loyal opposition" will be on this like ugly on an ape...

So pay close attention to what the FBI investigation FINDS, not to the talking heads whose spin can throw things so out of proportion that it utterly annihilates the truth. That happened a lot during the last campaign. Fortunately, a majority of the people didn't buy it, and let it go in one ear and out the other...

Watch lots of different cable stations and discover how differently they "report" the "news." It's very instructive!

I can only stand so much of FOX, but I do try to listen for at least a few minutes every day, until they get so outlandish and overwrought that it all starts looking like mass hysteria.

MSNBC is a bit that way on the other side of the coin. I enjoy MSNBC a lot -- I find it entertaining and funny, for the most part. I adore Rachel Maddow and think Keith Olbermann is a curmudgeonly humorist -- and a hoot -- way more than he is a reporter. (And maybe that's his niche and I just never knew it before.)

But if you want truly "fair and balanced" reporting, I think C-SPAN or one of the British news programs are your better bets. Because none of it looks terribly "fair and balanced" these days.

I guess of all the cable news stations, CNN comes closest... because they tick me off just as often as they concur with my thinking. I always consider that a good gauge of a station's "balanced" reporting. I can't be right all the time... I can't be wrong all the time.

Whenever I find myself in total agreement (or disagreement) with a station, I know I'm not learning much watching it, because the truth is usually somewhere in the middle... so I watch a little more... then turn the channel... and watch the spin that's happening from another perspective.

No, it doesn't confuse me, but it does make me a reasonable, responsible listener so that when I visit with people I don't agree with, I at least can understand where they're coming from and why they believe as they do. Then I suggest that they watch other stations to learn "the rest of the story" so they, too, can find common ground with those who disagree with them.

The only way to get along in this world is to try to understand, even when we can't agree...

It makes for a much more peaceable planet...

Mt Rainier Puts on a Show.... KOMO TV Shot...

Jackie and I saw this in person the day it happened.

Breathtakingly beautiful!

From the KOMO TV News Blog:

Those are called "lenticular clouds." They're caused when the air flow is just right so when it flows over Mt. Rainier, the air gets pushed upward where it cools and condenses into clouds. Depending on how smooth the flow is, you can get some amazing clouds formations.

It's usually a sign of rain within 24 hours because typically the moist flow that precedes a storm around here is the perfect set up for these clouds.

Funny, But Real! Keyboard for Blondes!

http://www.keyboardforblondes.com/keyboard_bigger.html

A Balanced, Thoughtful Look at Gay Marriage and the Bible

http://www.newsweek.com/id/172653/page/1


I tend to agree with this article. (Please read it first before continuing, if you haven't already.)

I have always believed in civil unions, but stopped short of believing that gays should be allowed to marry. After reading this and really thinking about it, I'm caught up in feeling like a partially blind hypocrite, to feel free to marry someone I love, but disallowing someone else to do the same thing because their sexual orientation is not "the norm" but a subset. (Ten percent of all mammals are homosexual. Did God make a mistake? Or is homosexuality the result of a fallen world? No one knows until we ask Him when we get to heaven. It's on my mind and I will ask when I get there! Perhaps homosexuality is allowed on earth by God to reveal to us the way we feel/fear and treat others who are not like us.)

On my mind is this conundrum: If the situation were reversed, how would I like being told by society, "You are making an aberrant choice (it's not something "hard-wired into" you) where your sexual orientation is concerned. Change your mindset before you marry, or you cannot marry." Could any of us "turn off" the heart/mind and chemistry connection that says with every fiber of its being, "I want to love and be with this person for the rest of my life"?

One very clear statement the Bible makes is this: "Against love, there is no law."

People who want to commit to each other in a marriage -- as an indivisible union of body, spirit, and mind -- should not be denied the right to do so. Every Biblical reference to homosexuality was a story of "unleashed lust" between two people of the same sex or between an aggressor and a victim. The Bible's vital message is that we should love one another as God loves us.

To set someone apart because they don't define love the same way that monogamous heterosexuals do is pretty ludicrous, as long as there is no bondage, no usurpation of each person's rights, no mean-spirited enforcement of a desire upon another. Many of the most honored people in the Bible had harems. It was a part of the culture. Stoning homosexuals and adulterers was another part. Go figure.

The Apostle Paul thought no one should marry unless an individual couldn't contain their lusts.

Jesus never married.

Does that mean the Bible preaches abstinence and single-hood?

What, then, about "go forth and multiply"?

So I'm changing my mind. It's a little uncomfortable, as a committed Christian, to say, "I now find gay marriage as acceptable as I find heterosexual marriage," but I can certainly say without equivocation that I find it equally honorable.

When two people want to commit in a sacred way to each other, that's worthy of celebration, not censure.

So there you have it.

I'm with Paul and Jesus: I love the single, celibate life. I thrive as a single person without carnal attachments.

But for the rest of you, find a committed relationship and love one another with all your hearts!

Jigsaw Puzzle with a Message...

http://www.jacquielawson.com/viewcard.asp?code=ER13610552

Put it together, then have a happy one!

Can You Sleep When the Storms Come?

http://www.hall4bc04.org/Storm.htm

Read the above and find out how NOW!

Raccoon Tales...

I've been putting cat food (hard and soft) on the front porch for Tiki (the cat that has lived outdoors at this house longer than we've lived indoors in it). She also has a warm, cushy catnap place (looks like a bright pink box) on the front porch, which she has never used (to my knowledge), but at least she has everything she NEEDS for inclement winter days. The box is located near the air vent coming from the dryer, so there are even times when she could hunker down and get toasty warm. But she hasn't taken advantage of the situation, except to enjoy the food. I give her canned food morning and night and the dispenser of dry food is out there all the time, day and night.

There you have it: a very long introduction to what I'm about to tell you!

Jackie went outside to get the newspaper this morning while the sky was still pitch black and reported back that the biggest raccoon she has ever seen in her life was on the porch, enjoying the dry cat food from the dispenser. When it saw her, it scuttled off the porch and to the nearest tree about ten feet away, but had no intention whatsoever of going away much farther than that.

It waited while she picked up the newspaper. She told it that it should probably leave now, so it went a little bit up the tree but dropped back down the moment she opened the door to go in, so she picked up the cat food dispenser and brought it in.

Said I to her, "*awwwwwww* The poor thing was hungry, Jackie!" Said she: "Well, as long as you don't mind feeding raccoons right along with Tiki, that's fine. It's your dime." I thanked her of thinking of my (rare, spare) dimes... but my heart remained with the raccoon!

Probably not many of you know this, but I raised an orphaned baby raccoon from June 1979 until he was old enough to release that fall. (At least, the kid who brought it to me said it was orphaned, which I doubted, but by the time he brought it to me, it had been with him for two or three days and had refused to eat, so he brought it to the "animal lady with the serval kitten" in the hope I could save it. I figured there was no way to return it to its mother after so many days.)

The little raccoon was terribly sad and scared when he came to me and I thought he was going to die because he already hadn't eaten in days. But in the middle of the night the first night I had him in my care, I heard him make a high-pitched trilling sound, and I mimicked it, at which time he rushed over to the side of the pen he was in and churred all the more, very excited, as though he'd located "mama!" So I went over and churred to him some more, offered him a bottle and some kibble, and he went to town, famished.

From that moment on (when I learned how to "speak in tongues" not my own, but by inspiration) he was my little buddy, following me everywhere, as if tied to me by an invisible string. I named him Gabriel.

Deaken (my "serval son") was just about the same age, and so I introduced them to each other. They hit it off very well . Deaken even tried to "churr" the way Gabriel did, and it worked for him, too!

So for one summer I had a very strange little critter family. I have a few photos (and a Super 8 film that should be transferred to DVD, and when I find it again, it will be!) that I must dig out and put on here or on You-Tube for others to enjoy.

Gabriel used to go into Mom's flower bed and pick some of her prettiest yellow flowers to bring to the sliding glass door. *awwwww*. He'd try to climb the sturdier flora (sunflowers), too, but was too heavy to have much luck with that.

I used to take him to streams to see if I could teach him to learn to turn over rocks and find crayfish and other goodies. It didn't take much -- it's instinctive to a raccoon to do that, I discovered.

Gabriel used to delight in grabbing 2-liter plastic soda bottles (which I'd fill part way with water) and drinking from them. He'd roll onto his back and use his back legs as "lifters" to get the water to run toward the opening in the bottle so he could drink from it.

Another time Dad was working on the deck and Gabriel grabbed one of the tools he was using and carried it under the deck. Boy, Dad was hopping mad. We had to send Philip (big Phil now, Casey's and Jamie's dad) underneath the deck to retrieve it the next time he came out to visit, because we were all too big to go where Gabriel had taken the tool! But we had so much fun watching Gabe that all was quickly forgiven.

But back to this morning's raccoon tale. I filled up the dry cat food dispenser and put it back onto the porch. The memory of Gabriel fills a very warm spot in my heart and any relative of his who's in need is a friend of mine.

God bless us, every one!

Disclaimer: I do not believe in wild or exotic animals as pets for the vast majority of the pet-owning population. The rearing and maintenance of captive wildlife should be left to well-trained, knowledgable professionals. I was a professional in the field for a very long time and have seen animal care and maintenance done well and done horribly. When it's done horribly, it's usually done by ignorant people with good hearts who just don't know any better or who don't know where to find the information and the money needed to do it properly. Loving animals is one thing; being able to care for them properly, out of love alone, is quite another...