The End Comes

In Tribute:

Click here to see Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up" video.

Rest in Peace, Terri.

Please leave your condolences for the Schindler's to be delivered by Glenn Beck.

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ACLU Blogburst-"Consistent Inconsistency"

We know that the ACLU were co-counsel in the Terri Schiavo right to die case. They argued with Michael Schiavo's creepy attorney, that Terri was a vegetable, unaware and unable to communicate or to feel pain. Wait a second, aren't these the same people who argued against California's use of lethal injection, stating the drug used "paralyzes the condemned man and would leave him unable to signal if he were in pain." So the liberal legal society doesn't want an inmate to die in pain, but is ok with an innocent brain damaged young lady doing so? Oh, on second thought, she is getting morphine. Why is that? The ACLU has always seemed to be inconsistent in it's views from one case to the next. Especially with pro-death cases.

Lets look at "Mr.Munster" George Felos, their co-counsel, as an example. George Felos is a right to die activist, who changed the law in Florida regarding the classification of feeding tubes to include them as "artificial life support". His motivation? Voices in his head. His book, "Litigation as a Spiritual Practice", is an account of his religious action regarding his clients. The point to be made? If a card carrying member of the Evangelical Church of America tried to use the court system to promote it's religious beliefs in the same way that Felos has, the ACLU would be chomping at the bit...and succeeding in shutting it down, I might add. Yet on the principle of "right to die" the ACLU ignores the principle of separation of "church" (used loosely) and state.

I guess consistency is measured by the heat of the issue at hand? Good day jurisprudence chameleons!

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Great Taste In Art

Another "fraudulent" Salvador Dali. Apparently anyone can paint a Dali !!


Speaking of great art...Check out Van Google's "Googly Night".


And while you're checking that out you might want to see if Google is giving away your address. Just type your phone number into the search window. It will might give your address and provide a mapquest map to your house. It worked for me! Boy, do I feel violated!

You can have it removed by clicking the link that says "Phonebook results for... ". If I were you I'd do it. Can you imagine this in the hands of a psycho telemarketer. "Hang up on me, will they?"

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The Spin Is In

If you paid attention to last weeks BIG story , the only certain thing is that spin is everything!!!

Everyday with every new twist the spinmiesters gave their best shots at the trial (and trials of) Terri Schiavo. And each side was certain of their TRUTH, although they opposed each other. The pinnacle of spectacle came when the Schindlers spiritual advisor and Michael Schiavo's lawyer gave opposing views as to Terri's physical state. While George Felos stated that Terri was resting peacefully and that her death was "not imminent", Brother Paul O'Donnell stated otherwise in his statement before the court.

To me the spin comes down to what you believe much more than who you believe. So let me spin it this way... As a Franciscan from Minneapolis, I personally know of Brother O'Donnell and the Franciscan Brothers Of Peace. He would not lie for a cause anymore than I would, or St. Francis would for that matter. George Felos I don't know. But from this review of his book "Litigation As A Spiritual Practice"**, I think I know what he is not.

Peace to you and unspin as best you can. +<:-)


**Does Litigation as a Spiritual Practice mean you can sue the BeJesus out of someone?

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On Emptiness And Joy

Wishing you a Happy Easter! May your day be "filled" with friends, family, happiness, and joy.

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Slam Dunk

Judge Greer at Heaven's Gate:



Judge Greer: "But I was a Judge, I was supposed to protect the people's rights."

Jesus: "No, George, you were supposed to protect the right people."


***It could happen just like that. We hope not. But it could...***

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Little Crosses

I hastily stuffed the solicitation letter from the Franciscan Brothers of Peace in my pocket as I headed out the door for some last minute Easter shopping with my family. I thought to myself,"Hmm...the way my finances are holding up, maybe I should send out a letter or two." It was pouring down rain and cold. So everything electrical was running in the car when the "Charging" light came on on my dashboard. We broke down 15 miles from nowhere. We didn't have a cell phone with us. It looked bad and I was fuming.

Lucky for us I was easily able to flag down a good Samaritan who gave us a jumpstart and we sputtered into town, the motor convulsing at evry stroke of the wipers. We broke down again. Lucky for us, we were at an intersection where a short push got us to an auto parts store. At the store I was able to procure a mechanic, who after sufficiently emptying my wallet, said he could have the car fixed the next day. I said yes. Lucky for us that meant no towing the 30 miles back to our village plus repairs.

We were able to catch a bus for the long ride home. It gave me some time to reflect on my children and how they see me react to things. It is not always the best example that I set before them, though I try. Things worked out and I know it wasn't luck at all. And so I told them so.

When I got home I noticed the damp envelope in my pocket. I opened it and read:

"As we pray and meditate on the passion and death of our Lord Jesus Christ, let us lovingly accept our individual crosses and hardships for the sake of advancing the kingdom of God here on Earth." Perhaps I'll consider that donation after all.

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Leave Directions.

Advance Directives...Don't leave home without it.

Florida. A great place to visit but I wouldn't want to die there.

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Lady Justice

Death by Legal Interjection.

I'm just a little concerned. I've heard that the blogosphere is clogged with Terri Schiavo commentary. Indeed the world is watching this drama play out before us. The bloggers speak, the court speaks, the vatican speaks. I've spoken quite a bit, engaging in some forum debates. Yet these are all just the clanging of cymbals when you realize there is a young woman being deprived of substanance, now on her 7th day. One of my friends on Crosswalk.com forums has been counting her meals...18 so far, since they started starving Terri Schiavo.

Most of the talk has been cordial and theological in nature. But there are those who come from the death culture who's point is to troll. They can be annoying, speaking the death culture schpeel of what's best to end T.S.'s "suffering". But I would like to share with you a troll of another order. It is my senator.

I recieved an e-mail from him after pleading with him to do something about this "mercy killing". Here is his response:

Dear Mr. Speranzella:

Thank you for getting in touch with me to express your views on the case of Terri Schiavo and the legal rights of incapacitated individuals and their families. I appreciate having the benefit of your comments on this matter.

On March 20, 2005, the Senate passed, by voice vote, legislation to require a federal judge to look into the legal aspects of removing the feeding tube of Terri Schiavo. Florida courts had previously allowed her feeding tube to be removed, finding that she is in a "persistent vegetative state." The legislation sending the case to federal court was passed by voice vote in the Senate, then by the House of Representatives early Monday morning, March 21st , before being signed into law by President Bush. A Federal District Court judge in Florida refused to order doctors to reinsert Terri Schiavo's feeding tube, and the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals heard the case on March 22, 2005. The three-judge 11th Circuit Court of Appeals panel decided, by a 2 to 1 margin, that there were no constitutional grounds to reinsert Terri Schiavo's feeding tube...etc.

With best regards,
Paul Sarbanes
United States Senator

Now I shouldn't expect much more than a scorecard from a dyed in the wool Democrat such as Sarbanes. What irks me is how can anyone be ok with only looking for a "constitutional grounds" to reinsert the tube. Words said with NO compassion and mercy, just legal authority...oh wait, perhaps, again that is their definition of compassion and mercy.

And so Terri doesn't die from complications from her collapse. She dies from the simple speaking of legalese.

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Daily Recommended Allowance

Hang in there. Friday's a' coming! This week seems to be running slower than my computer. I think it's time for a faster cpu. Of course a bigger c-u-p helps alot too.

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S.O.S.

Three cheers for warmer weather. Hummingbird** for "Hurray! Hurray! Hurray!". Or is that "Go,Team,Go"?

**Vocalizations courtesy of Naturesongs.com

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A Bug's Wife

Why don't insects go to court? Perhaps they have better things to do with their time...like finding food, laying eggs, not getting eaten...stuff like that. Or maybe they just can't afford a lawyer.

If a lawyer were a bug, what kind would it be?

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When I Was Hungry...

Like it or not we all do. Mine is to draw and write my feelings. Usually it is in a humorous way. Sometimes not. This cartoon sums it up today.

I have friends on both sides of the Terri Schiavo issue. And each has his/her right to what they believe. I know that some of my friends feel that compassion for the suffering is paramount in the right to die camp. No one likes to suffer or to see another suffer. However in this instance there is more suffering to be had FROM the euthanasia than there was PRIOR TO it. This to me is not compassion but something starkly brutal. And for what? In this case it is hard to see. A husband's custodial rights? The State's right to decide judicial issues? What is THIS important?

I don't believe it is right to kill a person, EVER. That is my personal take on being pro-life.

Jesus said,"For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink...to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me."

It blows my mind to hear people talk about Terri Schiavo as being better off dead, being at peace,or being with Jesus. According to this scripture she is Jesus. Terri Schiavo is a very vulnerable person, the very "least of them".

This Passion week remember that Jesus thirsted too.

Sermonizing Over! Thanks.

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A Vehicle Of Humility

Thank Heaven the disciples didn't try to "pimp His ride"!

Have a blessed Palm Sunday.

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We Don't Need No Stinking Aliens

11 million says so. That's a lot of pesos for something they initially claimed they didn't do. But I could have told you that, amigo.

Now the payola is a nice gesture. But if you think they aren't trying to figure out how to get a guy in India to buff the floors in Wichita, then...well...how do you say WRONGO* in Hindi?


Another WalMart rant. I like 'em really I do.

**The answer is " galata".

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Seperating Church and State

Terri Schiavo and her parents are devout Catholics. The State Courts are...well, NOT. So why are they ordering something that is against the persons religion? I guess the seperation of church and state only applies stateside.



Terri is now on day 7 without food and water.

"I have no cogent reason why the (congressional) committee should intervene," the judge reportedly told attorneys in a judicial conference call.

Mat Staver, president of Liberty Counsel, which had earlier filed legal action on Terri Schiavo's behalf, was appalled at Greer's latest action.

"I cannot understand why Judge Greer will not honor the subpoenas issued from the U.S. House," Staver said. "Terri Schiavo should be afforded every protection. Death by dehydration and starvation is slow, painful and inhumane."

Grim Reaper Now Presiding...All Rise.

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The Fixer Upper

What needs fixing...the house or the handyman?

I hate fixing things. If I had my way everything would be brand new and remain eternally pristine. But that is not the way of nature. Everything is under the rule that things fall apart. Whether through use or disuse, all that exists wears out, breaks down, rusts, or collects dust.

Only the intangibles do not follow this rule. The Mind, The Spirit, Love, Hope...things like that. These always grow stronger and better with use. There is no friction to wear out Love by using it. The Spirit grows in wisdom and light by it's expression. Hope only multiplies as it is realized. The Mind grows sharper by it's exercise. There are no how-to manuals or "This Old House's" for the things of the soul. Just the ability to be and do. And for me, there's a lot of doing still to do.

Now... where'd I put that hammer?

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Green Day Rules

Rule 1- St. Patrick was NOT a Leprechaun.

Rule 2-St. Patrick did NOT eat Corned Beef and Cabbage.

Rule 3- St. Patrick did NOT drink green beer.

Rule 4- St. Patrick DID have some lucky charms!


Born in Britain, St Patrick was the son of a wealthy alderman and a Christian. At the tender age of 16, Patrick was captured by pirates (some luck there...). He was sold as a slave in Ireland (more luck). There, Patrick dedicated himself to religion. He was a slave for 6 years in Ireland, before escaping back to his home of Britain (some real luck there).

Patrick was driven by the idea of returning to Ireland to convert the Irish to Christianity. He studied religion in a monastery of Lerins, on an island off the southeast coast of France. His religious superiors were reluctant to let him return to Ireland as a missionary.They feared his religious education was inadequate. But when Palladius, the first Irish missionary bishop, died in 431, Pope Celestine I then sent Patrick to Ireland (even more luck).

Patrick founded more than 300 churches and baptized more than 120,000 people, in Ireland. He brought in clergymen for his new churches from England and France. Patrick preached in Ireland the rest of his life. Patrick was chiefly responsible for converting the Irish people to Christianity. He became known as the Apostle to the Irish.

So if you are having an Irish celebration today, have some more cabbage and potatoes, sing "when Irish eyes are shining" and raise your glass of green stuff, and toast a first class missionary. Mine will be lime Koolaid. Patrick won't mind.



***Read the life story in his own words : The Confessions of St. Patrick.***

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A Residual Income

Kenny Dewitt? I guess he did! I think I've watched too many infomercials. I'm seeing opportunity everywhere!!!

(Opportunity for some wisecracks that is.)

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The Sloth Race

Two sloth were going to race one another to see who could get the least done in the longest time. Pierre claimed he was from France and wore his top speed of 00 on his jersey. Brady, from Kansas originally, preferred negative 55. It was a gorgeous warm day as they lumbered toward the starting line. They had wanted to start the race the day before but it was just too beautiful. So they decided they would start today.

As they went along Pierre heard the most wonderful bird song he could remember. "Such a beautiful song, such a bountiful tree, such succulent leaves, we must go and see,no?" he said. "No..." Brady answered, but to no avail. The two sloth went to the tree, enjoyed the beautiful song and luscious leaves until noon. From the height of the tree they watched the sun shimmer on the fast flowing river below. "Shall we go down there?" Brady asked, having been satisfied with the fruit of the tree. Pierre agreed and they went down to the river.

High above the water a green heron began it's decent. It had seen the silvery glint of a fish just below the surface, bankedsharply left and headed straight for it's prey. Brady watched as the heron plunged, surfaced and flew off, fish in beak. "Too much work", he thought to himself, "and way too risky." Pierre barely noticed as he was observing a diligent ant trail moving the casualties of a great beetle disaster to their anthill. Beetles make a great winter stew, he thought, for a sloth. He had no idea how ants prepared them. On a day like today he would have nothing to do with preparing stew. "tsk tsk...", he tsked, shaking his head,"...such waste of a lovely day..." They sat by the bank of the river watching the fish jumping, the herons diving and the ants trailing as the clouds drifted gently across the horizon.

It was terribly hot that hour of the day. They had meandered a short way down the river bank when they began to feel the heat. A few yards from them was another shade tree. Brady knew it would provide him shelter and comfort. " Let's go to the shade and rest awhile then we can make our race. "Pierre agreed and they rested in the shade. It was cool under the tree and the two sloth scratched at the ground, digging up larvae and nibbled on the tree's bark. "This is a marvel that this tree was here for us, for I was famishing, and almost burning in the sun." " Oui, oui," said Pierre," this is true, for it would be terrible to begin a race that way."

"Mon Dieu... Look at your shirt!!" He gasped. Brady looked at his shirt. -55 was smeared with dirty sticky tree sap. " Oh my, I cannot race like this." "No, no, it would be a disgrace, dear Brady, to lose in such a messy jersey." "Or indeed to win..." Brady said. He and Pierre discussed the shirt, the sap, and winning the race for close to an hour before resolving to go back down to the river to wash it.

Brady was now sweating like a boxer in June as he scraped and scrubbed and raked and rubbed his shirt against a rock jutting out of the riverbank. In a way, he truly enjoyed the task but if Pierre found out he would flip his French toupee. But he wouldn't as he was now nodding off atop a huge boulder. Pierre always found the perfect rock to catch the perfect evening breeze. Brady imagined changing the rules to the race. He was suddenly thinking about very unslothlike things such as discipline and persistence and singlemindedness. Unfortunately all of these thoughts promptly flitted away as swiftly as they came when Brady saw he was rubbing the numbers off of his jersey. Brady's sloth muscles soon began to ache the way sloth muscles do when they are used. The moon was rising now and Brady thought he really could use a nap. After all he had just had a vigorous workout, for a sloth.

Brady climbed up on the rock next to his friend, who made an exceptionally soft pillow. As he dozed off, he nudged Pierre and said, "Shall we race tomorrow?"

"Oui, Oui..." said Pierre, in his sleep. " Oui Oui,
...tomorrow."

From the book "Wage Peace"...

(loosely based on Ecclesiastes 10:18 -

"Through sloth the roof sinks in, and through indolence the house leaks.")

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Mr. Clean

This is dedicated to cats everywhere. But especially to our cat Oreo who, like his canine counterpart Ebony, has a thing for cleanliness. Apparently it's working for him, because we've noticed he now has a girlfriend with whom he shares his cat food.

Niiice Kitty!

I wonder if he's ready for a kitty litter?

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How to Profile God

"100 Artists See God" is an art exhibition that seeks to "reflect the pervasive, often ambiguous way God exists in and affects our culture". It is an artists view into the mystic, which , it seems to me, is the natural place for an artist.

We are in a culture where people are either struggling madly to acknowledge or falling over themselves to outright reject concepts like the existence of a God. Look at any forum discussing science and intelligent design and be sure to bring a fan and some ice because it is a heated debate.

These artists add to the debate in unusual ways. The arts have always provided unique ways to look at things. Poetry and visual art that springs from the non-linear right brain of the creators seem to impact us less with a deluge of words than with the power of a feeling. Emotions are connected simply, directly, in beauty and truth...even if that truth says the poet is atheist or agnostic. The point sometimes is to experience God through the artist. Even if the experience is one of not knowing God, or doubting Him. And how many of us, believers, agnostics, or atheist, have not swung widely on the pendulum of belief at times.

To me the easiest way to sense God is in silence and in the cradle of nature. I don't get that as much as I'd like. In my large and busy household, silence often comes only in sleeping and nature is summoned with a "here kitty, kitty" at feeding time. Some days I'm lost to know where God is in the rush of things. I feel sometimes I've out paced Him. And then...while I'm feeding the animals...just acknowleging the very life in them (and me) is the retreat that draws me back on the pendulum's swing. Those times are God, showing his ID.

Have a great Sunday!

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The Uncanny Strokes Of Genius

Vincent Van Gogh is one of the most famous artists of all time. His life was also in the saddest state of affairs. One thing is certain if he hadn't become famous for his paintings , he would have for his letter writing. He died far too young and left behind a large collection of letters, most to his brother Theo. The letters cover a period from 1872 to 1890. They are often eloquent, speckled with the mundane events of his life. Yet the flavor of his existence exudes from each one. In reading them one can travel with him through his religion, his artistry, his mania, until his final terrible letter which he had on him at his death by suicide, which began"Thanks for your kind letter and for the 50 from. note it contained. There are many things I should like to write you about, but I feel it is pointless."

There are several things we can learn from Van Gogh's journey from clergyman to a self-mutilating, hallucinating, suicidal artist.

1.) Never mistake your art for God's light.- In other words don't paint nudes of prostitutes to show the humanity of the sinner. We can figure that out ourselves.

2.) Be grateful for the patronage of others without attaching baggage to it. Van Gogh was constantly sorrowful over Theo's patronage, although Theo was glad to give what he could in exchange for the paintings he sold as a curator.

3.) Always illustrate your letters. You never know how much they'll be worth after you die.


An Illustrated Letter by Vincent Van Gogh--who wouldn't read that?

---

***read the letters of Van Gogh***

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Right Under Your Nose

I am always amazed to hear someone say, "That would be the last place I would have looked" when describing finding a lost item. Of course it would because by then it would have been found. I'd hope you'd stop looking after that...wouldn't you?

And what is more amazing than that is losing something in plain sight. I do this often. More often than seeing something that is not there, I don't see something that is. Like the toy that I just tripped over on the way to the computer to type this. As a cartoonist with children, I am constant looking for something. Mostly my pens and pencils. And being the smallest yet most important thing for my world (the pens), I tend to look too hard for them, not seeing them right under my nose and yelling at my kids (the other smallest, most important things for my world) because of it.

I should be glad my children like to draw "cartoons" like Dad does. They just don't like to use their crayons. I guess they are starting early on the "greener on the other side" thing. I have to admit it though, even MY indecipherable scribbles look better in pen too.

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Telephone Ahead

5 ways to tell if you should have called ahead:

1.) After shopping at the mall across the street you see the same three cars still looking for a parking space.

2.) The 3 buses from the Our Lady of Convalescence Manor have blocked the parking lot entrance.

3.) Your hostess serves your bread and salad in the vestibule.

4.) You mistake the line outside your restaurant for the opening of the new "Star Wars" flick.

5.) There is construction equipment where the parking lot used to be...

---

***"If todays cartoon seems crowded with bipeds, it may be the result of overcompensation. If you'll notice the last three daily comics have featured animals. OR it could just be about a crowded resturant."-- ( psychobabblistic analysis by Sigmund Fraud)***

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Your Departure Time Is...

We know what's on the menu. But what is the destination? :)

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For The Birds

I guess you could call the birds in this cartoon mocking birds! How would you respond to such a bird call? I would start by calling them names...but with a real name like the Pie Billed Grebe, what damage can that do? They would probably only laugh at me like this. I'm willing to bet the name came from some pie-in-the-face bird party they attended! What a hoot!



****Bird call courtesy of Naturesongs.com****.

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Where The Supercenters Roam

I live on the very east coast on the spit of land between the Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. My guess nowadays is that there are about as many buffalo here as in any state in the union. It is hard to imagine the Great Plains before the buffalo massacres. It was dotted with the American Bison in the same way most medium sized towns are dotted with homo sapiens. The buffalo were the life of the native Americans. I can't name a single animal that is as important to us today as was the buffalo to them. Except maybe WalMart.

Today we get all we need from the Walmart:food, clothing, tools, you name it. All that came from buffalo for the Native Americans is now mass produced for us in far away places. In the move westward Anglo-Saxons wiped out the buffalo in order to wipe out the natives, and claim the land. They called it eminent domain. Walmart is also exercising eminent domain, wiping out the small town shops with all of it's cheap and imitation wares of necessity. It is also wiping out the American worker in much the same way, with the cheapest labor for the worst imitation of goods. Bad product and WalMart product are becoming synonymous to me. It is the same everywhere it seems. The things of beauty and dignity are being replaced by the ugly face of greed.

I think buffalo faces are much nicer.

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Child Genius

Children always show their potential early. My youngest shows promise to be an explorer. Not just any kind of explorer...but a spelunking explorer. He may be the Ferdinand Magellan of tight and dangerous places. We could find him everywhere...stuck under the beds, in a corner behind pre-stored boxes, or hiding in crevices in our comforters. Neither does he have any qualms about hanging with his fingers from our kitchen table or standing on the edge of his high-chair tray calling "Mom" while looking for a safe place to land.

It is a parent's duty to find and encourage a child's natural abilities. So how do we do this without Child Protective Services getting involved?

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A Healthy Shade Of Green

Here's the listing for green from a "new" slang dictionary:

green adj 1. jealous. ("Your girlfriend is so hot. I'm green!") --Ok I can see this. Green with envy...got it!

2. uncomfortable with sexual contact, for example afraid of certain "actions" of contact. ("He's so damn green!") -- Ok...inexperience..how is this new or slang?

3. in agreement. ("Are we green about this?") ("Are we green?") ("Or, simply, "Green?"") ("A proper response to all three could be "Green.") --Now here's the kicker...I have been pondering this and I cannot make the connection between the old usage of this word and "agreement". Green doesn't even remotely approach being in agreement with anything.

Maybe I'm just green (uncomfortable) with slang, I don't know. Yet I AM green (with envy) that these publishers are making green (money), because young people are so green (inexperienced) with language to actually use it correctly. Perhaps one day...in the far far future, I'll be green (in agreement) with it...but I doubt it.

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Canine Culture

Make no bones about it, dogs are great. They are loyal, forgiving beyond belief, protective, loving, funny, and warm hearted. All the features we would want in a person. I like to think of a dog as a kind of human without an ego. Human, that is, until they start acting like a dog.

My dog is a black lab/rottwieller mix. She started out her day today by eating the grease out of the pan from my George Foreman grill before I could get to it. That was before breakfast. My dog also has a taste for garbage, but only when I'm away. When I'm not she is usually staked out in front of my 1 year old, scavenging any morsels that might fall from his little hands. Occasionally when noone is looking she will simply help herself to whatever he has, only to run from the telltale scream. I know this sounds a bit like politics. but for now we're talking dogs.

When she is not begging or trying to get my attention with her "Ro-Ro-Ro" bark, she is enduring all manner of harmless abuse from the young ones. She is an excellent addition to our family and is more obedient than our teenager. Which may not be saying much, I've heard.

All these behaviors are tolerable, with a little give and take from the humans of the equation. But my wife's biggest difficult is the licking. Not the face licking kind. Now when Ebony, the lab, is cleaning, she is very thorough. And very loud, slurping and snorting and carrying on. I find it funny if not quite a bit distracting. My wife just makes her leave.

Now I could go anywhere with this dog culture of licking and snorting. But I promised myself to stay away from the licking jokes, except maybe to say," Cleanliness is next to dogliness..." :)

Have a doggone good day!

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Memory Loss At The Speed Of Life

Have you ever noticed that the faster you go the shorter your memory? Or is that just me? I know that as the years grow higher in number the days seem to grow shorter, with much more to do than you have time for. And if you have children the challenge grows incrementally. Which means there is more to forget. And I do.

As with many people my days are crammed with childcare and daily activities. Things that are always getting sidetracked with the "little issues" that arise from having a large family. There are days when my head is so full of what I've got to do and what probably won't get done, that I forget to do some of the things I ought to do. I forget to enjoy life a moment at a time. I forget to smile because the bill collector is a person too. To write "thank you" on the memo line of a check. Or remembering what it is like to take breath. And I do.

I did find something that may help. It's a little book called "Getting Things Done for Dummies". Now if I could just remember to make the time to read it.

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"How Do I Look?", She Always Said.

Mrs. Galesby never liked her hair. So she had it clipped, curled, colored, crimped, bobbed, permed and pattied, whipped and whirled, until she was thoroughly unhappy. She said to herself, " It must be my cheeks", which she immediately had lowered. "Oh, it's my eyes." which she had quickly tightened. That, in turn revealed the true length of her nose. She promptly had it filleted. She had her breasts built up, tummy tucked in, her thighs sucked out, and her buttocks rounded over.

At the divorce proceedings Mr. Galesby was asked by the Judge why he had requested the divorce.

"She's just not the girl I once knew." He replied.

The Judge awarded the divorce on the grounds of unrecognizable differences.

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