Not again?

 

I have never been to New Orleans, Louisiana.  But what happened to them when Katrina hit the coast there was so devastating and so unbelievable, that people are still reeling from it years later.  And now this thing (in the photo above) is heading across the Gulf of Mexico, aiming straight at that same Gulf coastline that was decimated by Katrina. 

 

I don’t know about you, but I’m going to start praying that something, or someone, steps in and causes this thing they call “Gustav” to fizzle out before it hits the land.  And the people. And the animals and pets. And all God’s creatures who might be in its path.

 

GUSTAV – STAY AWAY!

 

Bex

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One that loves his fellow men…

Abou Ben Adhem by Leigh Hunt

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An angel writing in a book of gold:— Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said “What writest thou?”—The vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord, Answered “The names of those who love the Lord.” “And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,” Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerly still, and said “I pray thee, then, Write me as one that loves his fellow men.” The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed, And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.         ~ ~ ~ You could substitute Denver Doug’s name for Abou’s name in the poem above.  Funny how that poem, that I had to memorize as a young girl in school, has stuck with me all these years.   The memory of Doug will stick in my mind forever, too.  Since his passing earlier this week, I’ve found myself stopping and thinking of him, even sometimes when I’m deep in work-thought.  Doug will pop up.  I think he is visiting us all – his readers/friends – from wherever he is now.  Maybe even tapping us on the shoulder now and then, with a little nudge of encouragement when we might need one.  If you are doing that, Doug, thanks.  The poem above could have been written about you.  Abou —> Doug.  I join in the chorus of all who have iterated the sentiment that we will miss you, Doug.  We most surely will.  Cheers (and love), Bex

It’s a yearly event…

I just couldn’t let the day go by without saying here that today my darling husband turned 63.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SWEETIE!

After typing straight for 7.5 hours today, there aren’t many more words left in my fingers, they cancelled the ballgame because of rain tonight, so we are all headed to bed to see if sleep will come a-calling. Some nights it never does.

I read somewhere in an editorial recently:

“Give us this day….our daily thunderstorm….”

And boy does that ever fit with us. I can’t even remember the last time we had a day with no rain/thunder/lightning in it.

We’re having a little party for P. on Monday – which includes cake. I am not supposed to eat cake. It also will include lobster rolls, and I am making those, and by gosh, I’m going to have me one! Bread and all. Just this once. For P’s birthday.

Night.

Cheers,

Bex