THOUGHTS AT THREE A.M.

IL DIVO/ UNBREAK MY HEART/ LYRICS

In the first place,If you understand what a " diva" is, then it should be no great leap for you to figure out that "divo" is the masculine term, as Diva is the feminine for" the best"..singer, also translated as "Divine performance" or "divine performer"in this case.Simple, isn't it? As to the lyrics for" unbreak my heart", haven't you heard it before? Toni Braxton did it a while back. So here's THE Lyrics:

Don't leave me in all this pain, don't leave out in the rain, come back and bring back my smile,

come back and take these tears away,

I need your arms to hold me now, time is unkind, bring back those nights when

I held you beside me-

Unbreak my heart,undo this hurt you caused when you walked out the door and walked out of my life

uncry these tears, I've cried so many nights, unbreak my heart

repeat first stanza-

unbreak my heart come back and say you love me

unbreak my heart sweet darling,without you I just can't go on

unbreak my heart....unbreak my heart

Now go back and listen to Il Divo singing it again.These are the basic words, but remember, the literal translation won't be exact, because when you translate a song sung in english to say, spanish, they must change the words a little bit,in order to make it rhyme and sound good.

OUI?

SNL AND I, ON THE SAME WAVELENGTH?

Could it be? Tonight, Saturday Night Live dramatized the very point I made in my post about commercials, not as bad as you think...or are they? posted on the tenth of may.either tuesday night or wed. morning.I was very pleased at their portrayal of my point, but it also makes me wonder. Was that just art, coming from somewhere, to all of us on the same wavelength, or did somebody read my blog? Hmmm.Whatever the case, thanks guys, you did a good job! Now a whole lot more of the viewing public will laugh when they see that "...there she goes.." birth control commerical again. You see? I'm not the only one who thinks it's disgusting, and almost comes out and encourages  sexual promescuity! So there!

OUI?

PROTECTING OUR CHILDREN

Okay,we have had seatbelts as mandatory to be used in private vehicles for a long time now, and even booster seats, in many if not all states, for the children. So, what is with the government, when it comes to school buses? The technology has been there for years, and still, there are no seat belts in school buses. So, here we go again! How many school bus accidents must this nation witness, before it becomes law that ALL school buses must have more safety features, and most importantly, seat belts! Myself, personally, I would not allow my child to get on a school bus, until it was demonstrated to me that the bus has this equipment.Not after this week, of seeing the aftermath of bus accidents EVERY DAY. The law makers have demonstrated in the past, just as they are now, that there has to be a public outcry of parents,DEMANDING that they act NOW! Don't let this one slip past you! If you love your children, you must find alternate ways for them to travel to school, and boycott the school systems unsafe mode of transportation, until something is done! In fact, now would be a good time to teach your children to not depend on the system to get them to school. Hey! Walking is not crowded! If you can't drive them, you can walk with them, or get a group of children together, to walk...because there is safety in numbers, you know.

Oh, by the way...Next time you hear an announcer saying a bus crash, just remember, they are not exactly correct.Even though it is in every day use? Crash is NOT A VERB, IT IS A SOUND!  Please be an example to your kids, and speak correctly, won't you?

OUI?

MOLLY'S UPDATE

The siege continues.Molly is civil, but aloof. I can't help it that the rain hasn't let up and it is no warmer outside, but naturaly, Molly doesn't understand that. I am sure, to her mind, it is my fault.I closed the windows, and am being unreasonable not to let her sit on her chair in the doorway, and look out.But how can one explain to a cat that the wind would catch the door,and let in the cold? (sigh) No doubt about it, this is a cold spring, to be sure. Inside and out. However, eventualy, the weather will warm up, the windows will be open,and she will forgive and forget. I hope. Meanwhile,she takes great delight in spin-dashing (ala Sonic hedgehog), off her chair in the kitchen, sending it reeling into the built-in desk, jiggling the aquarium,and galloping off throughout the length of the house, eyes wild, tail a mile wide and straight up,sounding for all the world as though she's wearing boots!

Pray for a heat wave!

OUI?

THREE BEAUTIFUL THINGS

MUSIC,NO MAIL, AND A COINCIDENCE

1.I overheard a bit of classical music that I particularly enjoy, being played in another room,and a deep heartfelt sigh of apprechiation. I couldn't help but smile.Later, I got a kiss on the cheek, and one of my kids whispered, "thanks Mom, for giving me a love of good music."

2.It is a cold, dark and windy saturday, and I was in no mood for potential bad news. My unspoken prayer was answered, as Yon son came in, saying," no mail today."

3.By sheer happenstance, the cab driver in the family stopped by and picked up a new cd of one of his favorite musical groups, on his way to work.He has a wonderful singing voice,and gets THE car that has the cd player,and the good sound system.He uses all of that to entertain his customers,and gets a lot of repeat customers, requesting him because of it. Imagine his surprise,when he found out the very group he had purchased the cd of, was in concert, that very night...as he hauled the first of many trips to the concert! And back!

WHAT IS IT ABOUT 3 A.M.?

I have been asked this ,"ad nauseum"and each time, I can think of several reasons, but in all candor, I am uncertain. It's just, at three in the morning, I hit my stride,and my creative juices start to flow really well. I have always been a night owl. High school was a sleepy blur, and H E double toothpicks, if you really want to know.But now, it is no problem that I am wide awake at this hour, when all about me are sleeping. Stores are open.Automated telephone buisness is no difficulty. I can call in prescriptions, call and complain about my bill, or check  on my bank balance, the due date of my credit accounts, order my printers ink, buy perfume, write  letters, work on my book, or do a blog, or several, if I take a notion. Take that, Sister Mary Carmelita!And now, with the internet, I can do almost anything I want, except get my legs waxed, or a perm.Yes, this is my age.The good Lord knew what he was doing when he made me this way. Yes, I said he made me this way.My penchant for being active and being my most productive after dark began when I was born. I was placenta previa.My mother's labor began in the early morning,her water broke about noon, but I wasn't ushered into this world until after 10:30 that night, pulled by dear old Doctor Lockheart from my mothers womb by forceps. He and my mother were the only ones who believed I was alive...but I digress. So, it only stands to reason that I began my life at night,and wasn't ever really convinced that daylight was the best time for me to be up and out, moving around. I have never tanned, only burned, blistered and peeled, and, horror of horrors, freckled! A day in the sun left me looking like a lobster,and trust me, when I must go out on a sunny day(ugh!)I wear sunscreen 200! Except for the fact that I don't like blood, I am a vampire.A mole. A cave dweller.But it goes further than just my aversion to the sunlight.A person who prefers the night to be active has to endure a great abundance of abuse, from people who don't even know they are doing it. All doctor's appointments are schedualed for the daytime. What is that? Doctors, you would think, would at least be aware that some people are night people, but do you know a single one that has night office hours? No.And that's all of them,from the G.P. right on down to the eye doctor,and the pediatrist.Or, perhaps they are aware,and as usual, they don't care if you are hating the fact you have to go out during the day.To accomadate a patient interferes with their "God thing".Forgive me. Once again, I digress.

There is another real good reason why I am most productive at night. It has to do with interuptions. I can concentrate better if I don't have visitors dropping in to have coffee and chat.I can be secure in the knowledge that I won't have screaming children from next door, destroying my train of thought, by their intermittent shrieking and hammering on that awful clubhouse they have been building for the last five years...(I kid you not). I am fairly certain that no one will be knocking on my door to sell me anything,ask me if I have soft water, or want to check my water meter. Conversely, if I am in the mood to play, Molly can be coaxed into a game, or I can whistle at Teddy, and he will sing and run back and forth on his perch for minutes and minutes, hooting like a parrot straight out of the jungle.And, when all is said and done, if I want to read, or think, if there's anyone else in the house, they are snoring.Not that I don't love my children. I do, with every fiber of my being.But I get distracted when I stop typing, hand to head, and someone sneaks up and says" What's the matter Mom? Are you ill? Do you have a headache?" Just when I was on the cusp of a brilliant turn of phrase,and I have to stop, and say,"No honey, I was just thinking." And then, most annoying of all, they give you that" LOOK," like they don't really believe you.Kind of a slaunchwise narrow-eyed jaundiced viewing, as though you might be attempting to conceal a signifigant piece of evidence, or symptom of a dread disease.This look, then is invaribly followed by an offer of some sort." Can I get you anything? How about a nice cup of tea?" It doesn't matter if it's my natural child, child by marriage, or an adoptive child, official, or unofficial, they all do it. I try to be patient, but when I don't bite on the tea, they offer me coffee, or a pop,but by this time, it is wearing thin. I pick up my marvelous alladin thermal cup, shake it and say,"No thanks, I have my ice water right here."At this point, without exception, they will grab my cup and make off with it, ostensibly to refill it.Not that I don't apprechiate their efforts to help me out, or take care of me, but what happens next is not condusive to deep thought.I train my eyes on the screen, to get back into the flow of my prose...but off in the distance I hear the inevitable conversation, what are you doing..I'm gettting mom some icewater,mumble mumble, then comes a great crashing and banging as the ice container is whipped from the freezer, and smacked sharply on the table or the counter top, loosening the cubes,and then a cascade of ice cubes are dropped into the cup from about shoulder height,and the container is loudly slammed back into the freezer, and the door is firmly and loudly shut.Then, while I am still training my eyes on the last thing I wrote, the water faucet is opened, full blast.And it runs.and runs.It runs long enough so that they might be bathing an elephant, for all I know,but if I ask, I am told," I'll be there in a minute, I just want to make sure the water is good and cold!" It is useless to point out that if they have crammed the cup full of ice, the water will be cold by the time I get it anyway, unless they put hot water in it. Besides which, I am still trying to be patient,but by the time I get my cup, two things have happened. #1. I am so thirsty I will drink anything I can get my hands on, and #2.After hearing the water running and running, I now must leave my desk, and go visit Mrs. Murphy.My nerves are jangling, because I could have accomplished the same thing, by just going and getting my cup filled myself,since Mrs.Murphy's parlor is right next to the kitchen. Once enthroned in her parlor,with the door shut in that little room,I consider how to explain to the kids, that as much as they spoil me, I really need some time alone.But, it is not possible, without hurting their feelings. So, it is just easier all the way around, if they think Mom is just a bit unbalanced, and that's why she works all night.And sleeps days.So, I get up from the throne,wash my hands, and dry them, and when I come out,I sigh, and I smile.

I mean, let's face it. Three a.m. is the only time I am allowed to HAVE any thoughts.

OUI?

TAKING ADVANTAGE OF ANONYMITY

I just read something so disturbing, excuse me while I go off on a rant! Now, I have heard it all.A woman. No, strike that, a female, has aparently written a blog about handicapped children. I won't call her a woman, because frankly, to get that status, you have to have a little something going on in the brain pan. This female is without shame if she thinks there is anything remotely amusing about disability. Particularly, when it comes to children. All children are precious, no matter who, no matter what,and any female who thinks...I said that already, alright. I'm repeating myself for emphasis.But, both times, I was wrong. This female does not THINK! I have seen the page after page of blogs listed that had so many horrible words there, right up front, I couldn' t EVEN consider clicking on it, just to see what it was about. I already Knew what it was about. It was about shock value, and a misguided attempt at gettting attention from the blog-viewing public. How sad is that? It was in my blogging infancy that I saw these raw titles, and I thought, my Lord, how on earth can I compete with that? Is that what gets and keeps attention? In my heart of hearts, from the core of my being, the answer came back, NO! Creativity has levels. Some seek a quick success, and will sink as low as possible to obtain it, but they will not be pleased with the response.Like a small stream, the mud, the silt and raw sewage(yuk,excuse me) will sink to the bottom, but the purer the water, the higher it will rise.Seek the clean,crystal clear draft, that bubbles on top. Everyone will thirst after the water that fizzes up around the rocks, and spit out the filth, that lays below,ultimately. That one speaking to my heart was right, and I am glad that I did not try to change my way of writing...to compete...because, if I had, by now I would be knee deep in mud! Of course, some will say, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it..true, but that is no consolation to those of us who keep our thoughts and words above that silty level, who through no fault of our own, blunder into a site, (and believe me, I've done it too,) where we were immediately offended. Quick going in, and even faster going out, don't you know! So, my question is, why do these individuals take advantage of their anonymity to such a degree,that what they have to say can easily turn a decent person's stomache? Do they talk like that all the time, and not know any better? Can they actually have so little regard for helpless children, as to make cruel jokes about them? Are they so far out of control, they don't know that whomsoever offends one of God's little ones, it would be better for them to have a millstone about their neck and be tossed in the sea, than to stand before the world's judge, in that great and terrible day of the Lord? And who is closer to the Lord, than a child, whom he made with love, imperfect? Intresting paradox,isn't it? God made them, just the way they are,and God doesn't make garbage. He has a reason, and a plan, for everyone. And whom ever wrote that blog, is not anonymous, to God. Puts me in mind of something my grandmama used to say. Always act as though someone was watching you. Because he is.

OUI?

ROCK ISLAND ARSENAL IS LOOSING JOBS?

It was just announced today, that the Rock Island Arsenal is loosing jobs! WHAT? I thought we were in a war! For those of you who don't know, the Rock Island Arsenal is where the warmongers,(ahem) that is, the Military goes to get the armements, and other silly stuff like the armor needed to keep our boys safe in those silly Hummers! Whose running this BRAC thing,  Captain Kangaroo? This is scary! Who is in charge here? Nobody? That's what I thought.

OUI?

WARM AND TENDER THOUGHTS 2

WARM AND TENDER THOUGHTS,#2

The blog following this, is number 1. I must explain that when I began the original post,King just kind of took over, as some charecters do, and so, I must now finish up that which I thought would be in the first post.

Warm and tender are those thoughts that you look back on in later life, and you finally see how precious they were,such as a baby in a high-chair.How do you keep him happy, until the meal is ready, without letting him fill up on bananas or bread? Put honey on his hands,and give him a feather to play with.

Your a nursing mother, standing in the doorway, watching your baby sleep, and thinking how adorable she is going to look in that new white and pink dress, with all the ribbons and ruffles, and suddenly, you look down, because you feel something odd.And then, you remember, just a tender thought will bring on a "leak"!

You give your little one ice cream for the very first time,and he cries, because he thinks you burned him! Then, he sees his cousins eating it, and laughing, and he decides it's not so bad, and tries it again.

You spot your two year old, laboriously climbing the back porch stairs, with a mitt full of bright yellow dandelions and light purple violets, with mud dangling off the ends,working hard to bring them to mommy.

You think you're going crazy! Didn't you just throw out that clown toy ten times already? The one he takes in the bathtub with him, because it floats, and has a rounded bottom,with bebe's in it, so that all it does now is rock, and leak rusty water?You think he's playing at the nieghbors. While thinking this, you look out the back door,and see your child, digging in the garbage,and pulling something out, and then with a great big grin, he runs towards you, with the clown in hand.

Remembering the Christmas you were sick,and he dressed up and played"Santa Claus" for you,worked all day,then came home and cooked Christmas dinner, with all the trimmings.

OUI?

WARM AND TENDER THOUGHTS

Many times in my life,I have had what you might call warm and tender thoughts.When I was very young  they  were about my Collie puppy,"King" and how wonderful it was, that at the time we got him, about three months old,he was already house broken. Three months later, he fell asleep under the kitchen table, and awoke just as we were starting to say the evening blessing.How we all laughed when he thought to sneak away, and instead the whole table rose on his back as he got up, loaded with plates, glasses, silverware, and bowls of hot food!Fortunately, it didn't take long to convince him to crawl out,and leave the table where it was.Smartest dog I ever had, that was King Bon Laddie, a Sunnybank Collie...and big, too! Not then, but now I still have a warm and tender thought when I recall how he "Laughingly" stole the knit stocking cap off my head,(the long kind, with the ball of yarn at the end) and dashed around my snowman,taunting me with it,as I chased him around and around, to reclaim my hat.He was my play fellow, my protector, and my escort to and from school.In that queer pychic sense that most all Collie's have, he knew what time I was supposed to be coming out of school, and he would be there, waiting at the door he knew I would be exiting the school from. No one taught him to do that, no one urged him to go get me at the right time. He would just take off,and appear on the playground, right next to the girl's entrance.Until, one day, I wasn't there. I had been kept after school, by my math teacher.(I never was very good in math, until I caught on to the fact that it was about money,and then, years later, I got real good at it.) King was patient, for about 2 minutes.It didn't take him very long at all to figure out how to slip past someone going in or out the door, and once he was in, King's nose went to earth, and he ran all over that school, looking for his little mistress,barking franticly every inch of the way...or so I was informed, by others. I didn't really know what was going on, until the teacher and other students, also math geniuses, heard a scratching at the door.The door was opened out of curiosity, and King came barreling in, and directly up to me, and began the good old Collie welcome!If you've never seen or experinced one, you haven't lived.Screaming hystericly, he threw himself into my arms, licking my face, feet flying to patter my skirt, my arms, anything he could reach,such was his worry and anxiety when I wasn't where I was supposed to be, just like a mother would be. Even without the ability to speak like a human, he made his feelings known,and it didn't matter that the other students were yelling, or that the teacher was having some sort of fit, he was happy to see me!(nothing like the tepid "welcomes" the Lassie would give on the television show, but then, he was acting, and had to be signaled to give a low-key, sedate tail wagging hello, not a real collie welcome)Then, of course, the teacher began to reprimand me that my dog was disrupting her classroom, and all I had to say was,"Down King."On the instant, he stopped,sat down by my side, and commenced to pant, out of breath, but obedient. My teacher ordered me to send my dog home, and truthfully, I did try, but now that King had found me, he wasn't about to leave the school without me.I ordered him out the classroom door, but he would just turn around, and demand, as only a huge Collie can, to be let back in.Finally, I was sent home, with orders to tell my parents to tie the dog up, so he wouldn't do that again.I relayed the message, and then my mother called the school, and both my parents went to the school, that very night, and I'm not sure what went on, but from then on, I was not kept after school, no matter what, and King walked me home, every day.With King next to me, I was invulnerable.No one bothered me. No one teased me,although there was that one time, when some boy thought to lay hands on me, and was instantly and seriously disabused of the notion.Word got around.Don't mess with King.Don't mess with that little girl, her dog is there...And to this day, when I think of all the break-ins, I think it is the hieght of foolishness to buy a gun, or other weapon to defend your home.If you are victimized this way, the offender can find your gun,and use it against you.No,I say, get a big, smart obediant dog, like a Collie. They can't use your dog against you, now can they? Post the doors to the effect that they must beware of dog,and if it is the right sort, you won't have to be home for the dog to defend your home.You won't even have to be awake for your dog to defend you.

THAT IS A SKETCH OF "KING"  done by my mother.

sigh. He was so beautiful, and she was so talented. Sorry I had to minimize it so much to get it on the page.

OUI?