hi rapunzel, are you leaving??

hi debbie.

no worries. shell be back


vanessa

ok thanks peachie

oh, yes... our darling debbie...

I am flying out on early tuesday
to go see my Mama and Bro in Washington State
and prepare a Thanksgiving Celebration


you know my dear Mother is the best...

if you think i am a good lady

well, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...


she can barely walk now and all of the things
we take so for granted are such a hardship for her...


so, maybe i could ask everyone for some prayers

and good vibes for my Mama "Kathleen ..aka Kitty

& please pray for me to have the utmost
of love & energy & patience

i'll be back early December
but will check in when i can get to a computer..

love to all



i'll be here for another day or so


now it is certainly time to wake and bake

my thoughts and prayers are with you sweety

thank you so much baby girl

anytime sweetie

FORESTS OF STONE
Scattered throughout this great country and in many foreign lands are countless Forests of Stone. Some are perfectly aligned, delicately manicured and carefully guarded. Visited at times as a courtesy or for official inspections; at other times by somber faced friends and relatives of the precious remains lying beneath the sod of these hallowed forests. Others stand alone in private cemeteries, forgotten, covered with weeds, unkempt and unvisited.
Walking through these Forests of Stone, where each white granite marker stands in mute testimony to a life sacrificed or served to ensure our liberty and freedom, is sobering. Each stone stands at the head of a patriot, blind to race, color or creed, reminding each visitor of the cost of freedom and the sacrifice that each citizen must be willing and prepared to face in order to perpetuate this freedom.
Solitude and peace surrounds these sons and daughters of America who now lie still in death. Many had lives cut short in an ultimate display of honor to secure our heritage for those that follow. Fallen on the field of battle in long forgotten wars in unfamiliar foreign places. Fathers and mothers of children who will never be born and will never enjoy those rights for which they died. Others served faithfully but by chance and the Grace of God, were spared the fate of their fallen brothers and sisters. Sometimes taken for granted in life, they must now be respected in death.
These Forests of Stone have stood as silent sentinels over our military dead since the first markers were carved by hand so many years ago. Weathering gracefully the ravages of wind and rain. Permanent reminders to those who enjoy the milk and honey of America that there will come a time when the call will be sounded to follow their lead; when the greedy and power-hungry of this world will cause the thunder of war to rattle across this great nation. Patiently these Forests of Stone wait, to eventually receive the honored remains of patriots yet unborn.
Pay homage to those who lie here and in private cemeteries across the nation. Seldom visited, seldom thanked, seldom remembered. Remember also those 125,000 sons and daughters lying at peace in twenty-four Forests of Stone on foreign soil; and those who lie in unmarked graves on battlefields and jungle floors throughout the world, for they bravely answered the call and paid the price of freedom. They ask nothing of us. To them we owe everything.
***

HEY, YOU DON¹T FOOL U.S.


Hey, you wannabe
Some things are sacred
And held at the highest esteem
Unlike your words and actions
That hold no such revere

Hey, you wannabe
You don¹t know why you¹re free
A brave soldier you¹ll never be
From truth and service you¹ll always flee
You have no commitment and loyalty
Except to your deception and foolery

Hey, you wannabe
You bring shame not glory
To the ranks of our military forces
Yes you stand taller and straighter
Than our war torn weary soldiers
Chest emblazoned with medals galore
All bought at the corner dollar store

Hey you wannabe
You mock and irk Veterans
With your disgraceful and disgusting antics
Which are just mouthfuls of wordy semantics
There¹s not a nick on your boot
Or a scratch on your forehead
To attest to your claims
Of valorous combat duties

I Applaud for Liberty


Together hands applaud,
Those that fight for Freedom.
My hands have held no weapon,
To defend my liberty.
Yet with these hands,
I strive to honor,
Those who risk their lives.
Fingers of my hands,
On keyboard write the poems.
Words express the honor,
For bravery on my behalf.
Liberty upon the soldier's back,
Freely given, kept for me.
Though I safely write a phrase,
I know to whom I owe.
First to God and then to those,
Who fight for liberty.

JOB WELL DONE



They have given their time
They have given their all
For a country that said we made them fall.
Some say this is for power,
Some same this is for the fame.
We need to stop placing any and all the blames.
We have a country that has needs to,
look at our veterans that have no shoes.
Many lost their lives, and many lost their limbs.
Some lost their minds, and others lost their will.
Some don't have homes, some don't have food.
But this is our country who's out to do good.
Give to your own, and then think of the world.
Lets fix our backyards before we fix theirs.
Our country is rich, with many things indeed.
But lets give aid to our people
in the time of their needs.
So when you see a Veteran or someone in Uniform,
Please salute or shake their hand,
and say JOB WELL DONE.

Dear Lord, Thank you for our soldiers, who are so dear.

That surrender as our servents, to protect this land over here

Give them courage, strength, and a clear and sound mind.

Let them know you are listening, even when they feel alone.

May they always remember their families really are near.

For their family's prayers are constant;

every morning and night.

GOD, I pray you will walk with these soldiers,
every single day, and every single night.
Where ever they may roam.

And Lord, Please be with them,
and bring them safely back home.

What Is A Vet?


Some veterans bear visible signs of their service: a missing limb, a
jagged scar, a certain look in the eye. Others may carry the evidence
inside them: a pin holding a bone together, a piece of shrapnel in the
leg.

- or perhaps another sort of inner steel: the soul's ally forged in the
refinery of adversity. Except in parades, however, the men and women
who
have kept America safe wear no badge or emblem. You can't tell a vet
just
by looking.

What is a vet?

He is the cop on the beat who spent six months in Saudi Arabia sweating
two gallons a day making sure the armored personnel carriers didn't run
out of fuel.

He is the barroom loudmouth, dumber than five wooden planks, whose
overgrown frat-boy behavior is outweighed a hundred times in the cosmic
scales by four hours of exquisite bravery near the 38th parallel.

She or he is the nurse who fought against futility and went to sleep
sobbing every night for two solid years in Da Nang.

He is the POW who went away one person and came back another or didn't
come back AT ALL.

He is the Quantico drill instructor who has never saw combat but has saved countless lives by turning slouchy, no-account rednecks and gang members into Marines, and teaching them to watch each other's backs.

He is the parade-riding Legionnaire who pins on his ribbons and medals
with a prosthetic hand.

He is the career quartermaster who watches the ribbons and medals pass
him by.

He is the three anonymous heroes in The Tomb Of The Unknowns, whose
presence at the Arlington National Cemetery must forever preserve the
memory of all the anonymous heroes whose valor dies unrecognized with
them
on the battlefield or in the ocean's sunless deep.

He is the old guy bagging groceries at the supermarket-palsied now and
aggravatingly slow who helped liberate a Nazi death camp and who wishes
all day long that his wife were still alive to hold him when the
nightmares come.

He is an ordinary and yet an extraordinary human being a person who
offered some of his life's most vital years in the service of his
country,
and who sacrificed his ambitions so others would not have to sacrifice
theirs.

He is a soldier and a savior and a sword against the darkness, and he is
nothing more than the finest, greatest testimony on behalf of the
finest,
greatest nation ever known.

So remember, each time you see someone who has served our country, just
lean over and say Thank You. That's all most people need, and in most
cases it will mean more than any medals they could have been awarded or
were awarded.

Two little words that mean a lot, "THANK YOU."

Thinking of and praying for

our very own Braveheart "Brigade"...Gary

who is there right now in his 5th time of combat...

http://youtube.com/watch?v=oo46GTIZMKw

load er up!!

ThisIsForTheSoldiers.org

awww...Evad....good day to you, sweetheart...
thanks for the buzzzz, big guy:smokin

here i've got some for you too...

passes it to ya as i go get some coffee for us.

want some breakfast? bisuits n gravy with french toast,eggs,n bacon sound good?