HoustonChronicle.com - Suspect shoots himself in closet as police close in
Uhm...I know about noses, toes, and other body parts, but where, pray tell, is a person's "closet"?
'Twas The Night Before Christmas,
He Lived All Alone,
In A One Bedroom House
Made Of Plaster And Stone.
I Had Come Down The Chimney
With Presents To Give,
And To See Just Who
In This Home Did Live.
I Looked All About,
A Strange Sight I Did See,
No Tinsel, No Presents,
Not Even A Tree.
No Stocking By Mantle,
Just Boots Filled With Sand,
On The Wall Hung Pictures
Of Far Distant Lands.
With Medals And Badges,
Awards Of All Kinds,
A Sober Thought
Came Through My Mind.
For This House Was Different,
It Was Dark And Dreary,
I Found The Home Of A Soldier,
Once I Could See Clearly.
The Soldier Lay Sleeping,
Silent, Alone,
Curled Up On The Floor
In This One Bedroom Home.
The Face Was So Gentle,
The Room In Such Disorder,
Not How I Pictured
A United States Soldier.
Was This The Hero
Of Whom I'd Just Read?
Curled Up On A Poncho,
The Floor For A Bed?
I Realized The Families
That I Saw This Night,
Owed Their Lives To These Soldiers
Who Were Willing To Fight.
Soon Round The World,
The Children Would Play,
And Grownups Would Celebrate
A Bright Christmas Day.
They All Enjoyed Freedom
Each Month Of The Year,
Because Of The Soldiers,
Like The One Lying Here.
I Couldn't Help Wonder
How Many Lay Alone,
On A Cold Christmas Eve
In A Land Far From Home.
The Very Thought
Brought A Tear To My Eye,
I Dropped To My Knees
And Started To Cry.
The Soldier Awakened
And I Heard A Rough Voice,
"Santa Don't Cry,
This Life Is My Choice;
I Fight For Freedom,
I Don't Ask For More,
My Life Is My God,
My Country, My Corps."
The Soldier Rolled Over
And Drifted To Sleep,
I Couldn't Control It,
I Continued To Weep.
I Kept Watch For Hours,
So Silent And Still
And We Both Shivered
From The Cold Night's Chill.
I Didn't Want To Leave
On That Cold, Dark, Night,
This Guardian Of Honor
So Willing To Fight.
Then The Soldier Rolled Over,
With A Voice Soft And Pure,
Whispered, "Carry On Santa,
It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."
One Look At My Watch,
And I Knew He Was Right.
"Merry Christmas My Friend,
And To All A Good Night."
A Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan wrote this poem. The following is his request. "PLEASE. Would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S.service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities.
Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe them. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us. Please, do your small part to plant this small seed."
I think this is more than reasonable!!! If you agree Please Pass It On!!
...but I abhor the materialistic turn the season has taken.
The stores in my area missed Thanksgiving this year. Even last year there were a couple of days where they displayed Thanksgiving decor...this year they went right from Halloween to Christmas decor.
While enjoying Thanksgiving Day with my extended family, I broached the subject of Christmas and gifting. Each year, as incomes have risen, our family has bought "bigger and better" gifts for each other. With people who buy what they want, when they want it, all year 'round, the effort to come up with the "next big thing" has become time consuming and stressful.
"Like Lukenbach, Texas...let's go back to the basics of love", I said...and we will do so next Christmas. No gifts, just food, fun, fellowship, and a little guitar music.
The heifers and I jumped out of bed yesterday and headed for the country in our Ugs "snake stompers". In our haste to taste the country air, we forgot to dig the vittles out of the fridge.
We arrived empty-handed, but the folks were happy to see us anyway. After catching up on current events and decimating a holiday feast we headed out to the target range. Papa set up his gun range against a bank of the levee where one would have to be a really bad shot to hit anything remotely alive. The first order of business was to determine where everyone on the property was located before any weapons were distributed...one was sleeping in his room, one was sleeping on the couch, the teenager was holding the ammunition cases, the littlest one was holding his mother's hand, one kid was on Gabby's lap, the sister-in-law was crouched behind the sisters, and Papa was armed with a holster on each hip holding a .357 and a gorgeous pearl handled, stainless steel pistol and with a rifle slung over each shoulder. I was behind a big tree.
Papa set up the targets and the games began. We took turns shooting each weapon....first up was a round with the .22 automatic rifle. Since Papa is a certified law enforcement officer and sharpshooter, his efforts didn't count. I was best shot with the .22 rifle. The pearl handled pistol was too heavy for me to control and I passed on that round. The .357 pistol nearly put me on my heinie and I only shot it once. The .20 gauge pump shot gun was fun, but my arms weren't long enough to comfortably hold that one. My favorite was the .9mm Glock.
The results?
All of my shots were within 3 inches of the bullseye on each target I shot at.
Those rattlesnakes at the beach had better look out...human or reptile.
May there always be work for your hands to do;
May your purse always hold a coin or two;
May the sun always shine on your windowpane;
May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain;
May the hand of a friend always be near you;
May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.
Pass this around the World.
Live life to the fullest!
We had a wonderful time at the Thanksgiving celebration. There was an abundance of food and we added a multitude of swell folks to our address book.
The idiocy part came in when I "forgot" that I had surgery three days previous...and became the pusher for a 3 year old on the swing set. I paid for it dearly when I returned to the house and ToTo jumped right into the side where my departed gallbladder used to reside. His exuberence was heartening, but his aim was true. I hurt all night long, but spent yesterday sitting with my feet up on the coffeetable and allowing Sis to fetch and cook for me.
I feel really good today....probably something to do with the crisp, sunny day here at the beach and the prospect of "one more night" until I have to depart for other venues and a Thanksgiving feast at my parent's country place. I'll be the one wearing the "snake stompers"...
When the doctor says that you can drive two days post op, he doesn't really MEAN that you can drive an hour and a half with your dog to the beach ALONE.
I left home feeling pretty spry. I arrived at the beach feeling like doody. Hopefully I've had everything removed that is no longer useful and I won't be driving post op again...ever.
The new A/C unit is installed and works too well. I nearly froze to death last night and had to drag up the down comforter from the foot of the bed. Those little pokes were quite painful during the night, but I think I overexerted myself yesterday.
Today is the Thanksgiving Celebration at Jamaica Beach Community Park. I plan to partake from a blanket on the ground...not lying-in-state, but taking it easy. Sis is here with her two boys to drive me there and join the festivities with me.
I'm up and around and headed for the beach later today.
The surgery went well. Four little pokes and the gallbladder is gone. Except for having a hard time waking up after the surgery, things couldn't have gone better. I spent the remainder of the day on Wednesday crashed out in bed. Thursday I protected my tender tummy with a pillow while Pugsley and ToTo cavorted on the bed with me. Today I feel pretty damned good and plan to head to the beach later today to check on the A/C install.
Thanks so much for all of your kind concern.
...the first thing this morning:
...stepped in fresh dog poo on the highly patterned oriental runner in the kitchen as I stumbled to the microwave for a spot of tea. It's hard for a pleasingly plump, almost 50 year old, height challenged woman to stand on one leg with the other in the kitchen sink.
...and then She said... »