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Just shooting the poop with Lori |
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He travels the world on the backs of others Insignificant in his stature and size His journey carries no mission Randomly roaming at the will of his host Sated enough to never question his trek Life is an open adventure without worry If the excitement of his dusty trail dulls Another bus awaits to grant passage With a furry friend to carry him home Ah the wonderful life of a flea |
| Thank to the Men and Women who gave their all.. You have done your country proud! In Honor and Memory of Memorial Day Serving with honor I need take no notice For he stands sentry in the night As I sleep in peace My stalwart guard protects his post I lie in comfort and safety My shield stands vigilant I wake to start my day He stands still defending I am free to follow my desires My Sheppard of service stands staunch My liberty does not confine my being He boldly preserves my freedom I am granted a birthright of convenience He gives his life in my name Each day I wake in a country of privilege His defense of our sovereignty grants autonomy Whether I salute, raise hand to chest, or set banner ablaze My soldier of duty has provided my choice I live in a country that offers opportunity It is the serviceman that affords this prospect It is the serviceman that secures the America that I love He has given his life, so that I might live Borne of honor, my soldier’s noble gift A legacy to treasure, in silent remembrance By Lori Grawitch |
| I am beginning to think it is me! The warm sun has moved in and beautiful weather is scheduled for the next 2 days, I however work and must sleep for my scheduled shifts tonight and tomorrow. Clouds are predicted to return for my days off. Yard work will be put on hold once more. I did promise myself that I would soak up the sun for 30 minutes at least each day. Craving that vitamin "D"! |
| There are things that my children will never understand about the life I have lived, but I often attempt to introduce my children to parts of my childhood through story telling. These revelations, at times, don’t always work out well. And such was the case, as I tried to describe the pure momentary joy I experienced as a kid when “Mr. Softee” served up his uncomplicated pleasures to the youth of our neighborhood. It is hard to describe the giddiness I felt when the tinkling notes of “Mr. Softee’s” bewitching truck called to me. The questioning looks, from my offspring, cast in my direction sting. It is obvious they are trying to comprehend our parents letting kids jog blissfully to the painted caravan. Their bewildered stares stem from the guarded era that they have endured. I worry that the memories of a life of simplicity I was allowed to enjoy will be forgotten. It is hard to describe to them the adventurous fun of couch diving for wayward coins to afford the sweet treats offered by “Mr. Softee”. Luxury is a state of mind. Memories of soft served cones dipped in chocolate or sprinkles, served to you by a man in a cardboard hat bending out of two foot window, are priceless. No photo description available. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
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