I believe there is.. doesn't mean you will find them here. These sites are merely a tool in the search.. not the answer. So relax and enjoy the journey while you are searching

Wheelchair? what wheelchair? I used to date a guy who broke his back in a bull riding competition. I have no answer as to why people don't want to date a handicap person but I don't try to figure them out. It's their loss if they have an issue with it

I know the feeling. He prob got a slap on the wrist

Little mom and pop diner 2 blocks down. They know me by name already even though I am new here and always have my coffee waiting for me before I get to my booth. Such folks make the coffee taste even better

I had one as a teenager.. they are awesome dogs

I had heard on the news today about a man being arrested and his pit bulls confiscated for fighting. It reminded me of the 2 pits brought into the humane society I worked at in Colorado Springs back in 2002. I had many responsibilites in the shelter and one of them was to spend time and feed the " court held" dogs. These are dogs being held until their owners go to court and a sentence was placed.

I have never been a big fan of Pits and my boss was aware of this. I came in one morning and she caught up with me and asked me to go see the 2 Pits that were brought in. They had been confiscated when their owner was arrested the night before for fighting the dogs. I snarled my nose at her and she persisted. I grinned and shook my head as I finished putting my hand-held radio on my belt clip and walked the long hall to the court area. I checked on the sister first in her kennel. She was cut up pretty badly.. barely wagging her tail. I gave her a biscuit and walked to the next kennel where her brother was. He laid at the other end of the kennel.. gaping holes in his head and legs from recent fights.. many old scars from fights in the past. He didn't look up but I noticed movement of a slight wagging of his tail. For some reason, I very cautiously opened the door and stepped inside. I slid down the wall and sat on the concrete across from him.

He raised his head and our eyes locked for what seemed like a lifetime. I can see it as if it was yesterday. His eyes were blank... nothing... empty... lifeless. In a whisper, I told him that I have seen that look before. The same look I had seen in my own eyes as a child.. the eyes of an abused, neglected, unloved and lost little child. I slowly reached out my hand to this dog.. and I said... " Come here.. I know you just want to be held". This beaten dog winced as he found the strength to crawl over to me. I choked back a tear as I went to touch his head and he crouched in fear. He laid his head on my lap and we sat there for the longest time... and I gave to him all the love I had. It was as if he knew I understood.. and I did. It broke my heart that this gentle hand upon his head was probably the only gentleness he had ever known. I realized he didn't want to fight. He simply did what his owner wanted him to do.. He wanted to please his owner.. that SOB.

I went to work 30 minutes every day just to share some kindness with him. A week later, as I checked the list of the many dogs we put down on a daily basis, he and his sister's name was there. I looked up at my boss and she just looked back. I knew it had to happen.. he was so riddled with infection and could never be adopted out. I grabbed my lead leash and retrieved him from his cage and we slowly walked to The room. I always hated the mornings.. as we put down MANY animals at this time on a daily basis.. but this one was particularly hard on me. I was given the needle and I gave it back to the boss.. and said I wanted to be holding this 0ne instead. Up on the table, I placed one hand over his back and the other under his chest. I could feel his tired soul beat as I knew he could feel my heart break. I had to let him know that he would not die alone.. that he would know love and gentleness and kindness til his last breath. When it was over, I threw down the leash, walked outside and cried.

I had never had alot of faith in mankind.. and after working there.. I have even less. For all you animal lovers out there, give your pet an extra kiss tonight for me. And for all you low-life , pathetic animal abusers.... I will find you.. one at a time.. and if I don't, I have to believe that every person out there with a heart will not be afraid to step up and say " You wanna fight.. pick on someone your own size!". Let's NEVER be afraid to stand up to a bully.. for the sake of someone who cannot defend themselves. If they don't have the fight left in them to protect themselves, we will fight for them.

I am only a star of millions in the darken sky. I am not the shiniest one... in the midst of all the attention. I am not one of the most important ones that makes up the Big Dipper or the part of the constellation The Hunter that most people see and recognize. I am that lone star that shines within its own merit... happy to just be a part of the whole universe.
My wish is that someone will look up... see me in that star and say... I Choose You.

Love it only if it snows. Just moved to MO from TN. No snow in Tn but understand they get plenty of it here.. snow ball fighttttttttttttt

I confess I talk to myself at home.. alot! Son has walked in on me many times doin that.

I laugh my butt off just sitting here. Often in the summer, I have my doors and windows open and my neighbors will say.. well, Trish must be on the computer tonight lol I didn't laugh much as a kid.. rough kind of life but sure am making up for it now!

They say you can't miss what you have never had. I wonder about that sometimes. My oldest son called me last night to say he just found out his dad died 3 months ago. You have to understand that my son had never seen his dad and only talked to him on the phone only once. That is a story within itself. But..my son mourns for something that he never had. I think that what he is mourning.. is not the man.. but the dream of meeting him face to face one day and get the answers he so desperately needed and deserved. Now that dream is lost forever. I do not know how to console him. I have been honest with him about his dad and that was all I could do for him. Sometimes... it is just the clinging to a dream that keeps us in the hands of hope.
Let us cling to dreams when nothing else will do.. and let those dreams carry us as far as the possibly can... for without those dreams... we lose a piece of ourselves. I love you Clay!

Mom

Used to be... that was a typical sign placed on the front door of little shops downtown back in Columbus, Indiana. It was at a time when folks knew what was truly important... taking that grandchild to the lake with his first fishing pole or just going alone.. to ponder the questions of life and relax. Fishing wasn't a "sport" back then and it didn't really matter if you returned home with a stringer of fish. It was a way of life.. enjoyment that brings memories for a lifetime.Sometimes... the catch of the day was simply remembering past good times, experiencing the present or making plans for the future.
But if one lucked out with a great stringer full, there would be that neighborhood fish fry. The kids would take turns turning the crank on the old ice cream maker while one would sit on the maker to keep it from moving about. There was alot of laughter and mischief going on lol. After getting our fill of the feast, we'd run off to play tag or baseball in the field across the street. The men would gather in the garage to play poker while the women cleaned up and then settle on the front porch to discuss life.
One could walk into the local cafe to hear the men talk about the whopper that got away.. or the new lure that they traded for a pocket knife and works like a charm. Their eyes would light up as their stories got bigger and bigger lol while their wives sat and smiled.. knowing the truth.
Kids enjoyed fishing. They learned patience and respect for their surroundings. When they got bored, they would wander off to find a swimming spot, chase a lizard or lay in the shade and daydreams in the clouds above.
Ohhhhhhh.. the excitement as one gets settled in their favorite fishing spot.. threading that nightcrawler onto that hook and casting it into that " perfect" spot! It cannot help but bring a smile as the drinks are opened and one leans back and watches the bobber. Nothing comes close to the feeling of watching that bobber begin to move and jump.. the flutter of the heart.. the tense few moments before that float goes under! Feeling that fish give a fight as one reels it in...the mind seeing a 12 pounder cat and it ends up being a nice size crappie. But who cares! It will always bring a smile and even a chuckle. It is never a disappointment if you catch something.
Sadly, fishing has become a sport.. a science.. a chance to try new lures. Bigger, faster , more fancy boats. High-tech rod and reels that you have to actually read the directions on how to utilize.( SIGH) Sorta takes all the fun out of what was once just a simple past time and joy.
Humm.. now that I think about it.. perhaps it wasn't the actual catching of the fish.. as much as everything combined that made it so much fun. Something you could do with family and friends.. or do alone. Bringing friends together.. pondering life.. enjoying teaching little hands how to take a fish off the hook. From 2 to 102 would fish. Creed, color or religion never came into it. Rich or poor. It was something for everyone. Amazing, huh?
Oh well... I will take my simple Zebco, little tackle box, fat nightcrawlers, some cold drinks and head to my simple life away from the city anytime! And the sign on the door will say...
CLOSED FOR THE DAY... GONE FISHING

I was watching chat as I was preparing my invoices and someone had written that they were on cloud 9 and falling in love, etc.
Isn't the "falling in love" the greatest feeling? It's easy to fall in love. You can't wait to see them, can't eat, can't sleep, songs that you have heard a million times suddenly have a new meaning, smiling all the time like a goof, deep sighs at the mere thought of that person.
The point comes, however, when one comes off that high. We all would love to stay up on that high, but we have come come back down to the ground of reality and life at some point. You become "comfortable" with one another, You become busy with everyday life, work deadlines, family issues, the social life you left behind while you were on that cloud, etc. The love continues to grow, but without that high.
People make the mistake of thinking they have " fallen out of love" when that isn't the case at all. They have simply journeyed into the next level of love. They give up too easily.
Love has become as " disposable" as plastic, paper and tin.
Once that high is gone, just toss it and go to the next one. It's sad. I remember my grandparents sitting on the front porch swing on the farm, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder. He would whisper something in her ear and she would giggle like a teenager. They struggled on that farm, they made mistakes, they disagreed... but NEVER did it cross their minds to call it quits. I want that love.... althought, I must admit it's scary.. and it shouldn't be. It's not the love that I fear.. but the falling in love and having no one to catch me when I fall.
Grandma used to say, " the further you look, the less you see". It took me years to figure out what she meant. Sometimes, what we need and want, is right in front of us. But, being the humans that we are, we tend to look beyond that.. in hopes of finding something better. By the time we realize that the best thing for us is right in front of us, it's often too late.. they are gone. Love should not be complicated.
Love shouldn't be analyzed to death. It's not always logical.. sometimes.. it just is.

Love the winter as long as I get snow
Hate talking on the phone
Hate shopping

I'd rather camp and fish than to eat! I go camping alot in the summer time. Still tent camping although the thought of a camper is appealing the older that I get lol

A friend and I were chatting and I was saying how mom used to roll her eyes at me as I jumped into every mud puddle along our walk after a good rain in my brand new shoes as a child. I, then, had to admit that my sons would roll their eyes at me everytime they saw me doing the same thing! Yes, I still shuffle my feet through a mud puddle as I walk the dogs.. with an impish smile and not caring who sees me.
Life is a mud puddle.. daring us to leap into it.. and as silly as we might feel, can't help but smile when we do it. As we become adults, we must put away childish things. BUT we do not have to put away the child within us.. nor some of the simple things that we enjoyed as kids. To do so, one will grow old before their time, lose the reality of what is truly important in life.. and merely existing. I will never get to that point of finding life boring! There are just way too many mud puddles to conquer!
Trish

I had seen this old man.. I guess in his late 80s.. sitting on the same park bench every day as I walked Molly.. a sweetheart of a Burmese Mountain Dog. We always said a friendly "hello" to one another as Molly and I would stroll by him. Today.. since Molly was my last pet for the day.. decided to sit down on the bench with this gentleman. He said that he was in the mid stages of Alzheimers and that he sits out on this bench to attempt to remember every precious moment of his life. He was sadden by the fact that often times, he could not even remember his son's name or recognize his grandkids.
All of a sudden his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as he spoke of his late wife, who died 40 years earlier while giving birth. I could hear it in his voice as he would step back into a time his world was wonderful... complete. He went into great detail about her and their lives together. I was hearing his words and heart so intently, that I didn't see his grandson walk up from behind us and asked his grandpa if he was ready for lunch. The grandson introduced himself and I mentioned that his grandad was sharing stories with me about his wife. The boy looked puzzled so I repeated some of the things that was told to me and then he smiled real big. He said grandpa cannot remember what he did 2 hours prior but it seemed that his wife is so deep into his mind, heart and soul... that she will not let him forget her.
Isn't that awesome? To have such a love that will not give up on you... no matter what? I know she is watching over him now.. waiting for the time that she will greet him once again.. and that glow in his eyes when he sees her.. will be as it was today on the bench. THAT is love.
Trish

Aww thanks guys. I enjoy blogging. Is a great release for me

After 8 long weeks of enduring a cast on my right arm, today was the day I became castless. As the nurse pulled apart the cast that he just sawed in half, I was eager to reclaim my limb. As I knew ahead of time, this arm didn't remotely look anything like my healthy left one. My skin had dried out so badly underneath the cast that I could had easily dusted the entire town with my DNA. The lower arm and wrist had shrunk; my hand still swollen. But it was MY arm and I was thrilled to be free of the fiberglass confinement I had come to know for 2 months.
However, along with the relief of this freedom comes a new source of anxiety... a new fear. I no longer have the protection, the armour. My wrist is now exposed and vunerable.I hold it close as I walk by someone or something that I might bump into.
The ordeal of this broken wrist is mirrored to the ordeal of a broken heart. It only takes a fall to break a heart. In our battered weakness, we cover our heart with a thick wall of pain, sorrow and loss... so thick that no one can touch the tender break, no one can see the damage as it truly is. Then.. the heart begins to awaken, nudging the soul, letting you know that it has mended. The heart refuses to be ignored.. no matter how hard the brain tries to shield it. The time arrives when the wall comes down.. exposing the yet tender and wounded core of our spirit. Even while this new-found freedom is sweet, it is scary. But... as each day passes and each baby step we take, it does become stronger. Does the heart return as it did prior to the break? No. The scars will always be there even as they fade with time. The outcome of this break is totally up to us. We can either continue to hide it and not put it to use, in which the heart will simply wither and die.... or.... we put it out there, to be shown with pride and to do the works that God intended for us.
Well, is time for some PT. Anyone wanna take my place?
Trish

Someone asked me awhile back what happened to neighborly ways of life. It dawned on me the other day as I was driving through a neighborhood... front porches! No one has a front porch and swing anymore. Newer homes now have " stoops"

I love front porches and front porch swings. They were important when I was growing up. It was the gathering place for young and old. It was " base" when we played tag, a place to run to when it started pouring rain. We hung out with friends on this porch at night.. playing guitars or giggling about boys. The front porch swing was where my first kiss happened. Moms and daughters would sit on the swing on their porch and talk about broken hearts.. dads and sons planning the next fishing trip. This was our place to be right after supper. When a neighbor saw you sitting out on your porch swing in the evening, it was an invite to come sit a spell. People walking by would stop to say hello. If you didn't see your neighbor out on their porch for a day or two, you would go over to check on them.

Now, you can live next door to someone for a year and never even say hello. How often do we hear about someone being found dead in their home after not seeing them for days? You rarely heard that back when I was a kid.

Yup, the front porch and swing was an important piece of life back then. Sadly, it's merely a memory for many.