Quote of the YEAR!
Yes, more people are killed by cows each year than lawful guns intentionally fired by a non criminal. Even more than sharks (though I’d avoid if swimming in the Pacific wearing your wasabi wet suit).
Yes – Cows.
My dear friend Brigid wins the Internets with this one! And all the more serious (and sometimes less so) appending text.
I’m not big on insulting my readership, however, if you are not reading Brigid regularly (and own a copy (or more) of her Barkley book – see the sidebar) THEN YOU ARE AN IDIOT!
She is thoughtful, and well-versed in the manner of educated prose. And poetry! And turns-of-phrase. (see above).
Who would hurt me significantly if I posted a proper photograph.
Not really. But close!
WordPress software informed me yesterday that I now have 300 (three hundred) followers of Guffaw in AZ!
This means three hundred folks actually pretend to want to read stuff I have written (or have
stolen borrowed). This is a far cry from the initial 10 (#10 being North, the first follower unknown to me from the Internet only) since I began blogging March 6, 2011.
I do recognize some of the number are folks who play Facebook games, ‘friending’ me that I might friend them back. But, it’s been a few years since I was in junior high. Hopefully, they actually read the blog, regardless.
Of course, I am still surprised ANYONE does.
This whole blogging thing continues to be amazing. I’ve had commentary and/or email from folks in the Americas, Europe, Asia, including a woman blogger in Pakistan!
And service personnel everywhere! Thank you and all veterans for your service!
And thank you all for stopping by.
Yeah, it’s a song title, above.
Sometimes, I get down on myself, because I once had a wife, a daughter, a home, a ‘career’.
No wife, no daughter, no ‘career’ (I’m disabled). I DO
have share a home, though.
And that’s my point.
Living Freedom recently had a posting entitled
It mentioned traits of folks down-on-their-luck who, if they are not thriving, do more than just survive.
I could have been worse off than I am. I lost my home as my income decreased, and a good friend took me in.
But, that’s not my point.
MY POINT IS I’M GRATEFUL FOR HER HAVING DONE SO!
Certainly, I wish things could be different. It would be nice to have a wife, to have my daughter back. To have my house back. To have the income I once had.
But, not being a child, I know wishing doesn’t make it so.
So (most days) I choose GRATITUDE!
When I was growing up, I wanted to join The Boy Scouts. They seemed cool, but, I was too young. There was The Cub Scouts, though! And one could evolve into a Boy Scout from there. I convinced my parents I should join.
I think I was in the Fourth Grade. I became a Bobcat, a newbie. My parents never even sprung for a full uniform, just the shirt, bandana and cap. And I had to walk about a mile to my den mother’s house on meeting days. At least I got to hang with other boys my age, and we sometimes did cool stuff.
But, soon, my den mother moved away, and no provision had been made for us to transfer to another den. By default, I left. No Boy Scouts for me!
But one of my fondest memories of The Cub Scouts was the Scout Oath. Not the solemnity or the promise. The language.
In the early 60’s, the counterculture wasn’t yet tipified by the hippie. It was the beatnik that brought societal scorn. As typified by the character Maynard G. Krebs on The Dobie Gillis Show. (the G stood for Walter, it was silent!)
When something was mainstream, whitebread, uncool, the beatnik said it was SQUARE.
And The Cub Scout Oath (of that era) was:
I, _________, promise to do my best
To do my duty to God and my country,
To be square, and
To obey the Law of the Pack.
Now, sometime after 1964, the changed the oath to read to help other people, instead of to be square.
I wonder if that was because every boy jack of us said the oath as follows:
…To be a square…
Not really comprehending what being square meant.
Being on an extremely limited disability income, I sometimes (often) find myself in a financially uncomfortable situation. Often a week or more before my stipend is due to arrive. I wish I could say it was because of extravagance, but more often than not it’s because of a math error.
Fortunately, I am sometimes assisted by my friends. I am most blessed.
And yes, today, I AM SQUARE.
I AM ALSO A SQUARE! I need one of these!
In short, she is spectacular.
One reviewer said this of the book:
Here is the story of a jet pilot, a leader of men. A woman. And her life path with joy, pain, and pathos befitting any romance.
Except this is not about the love of a man. It’s about the love of a dog.
But not just any dog.
Barkley. Black Lab extraordinaire.
I think it was George Carlin who said owning a dog was automatically a sad proposition. Because with dogs not living 70 years like we humans, the outcome is pretty much a forgone conclusion.
But author L.B. Johnson takes us on her journey, his journey, their journey with both solemn and joyful remembrance:
“I will remember him, standing there in the light. the reconciled luminous-less of angels in stained glass, their form, a four legged one, lacking wings, but not their saving Grace. The light upon him was so bright, that when I looked at it, the body of the dog and face had clarity, almost brilliance, but without form or dimension, no longer animal, no longer flesh and heart and bone, but simply the brilliant inherent capacity to love as fully and as freely as possible.
That is the way I wish to remember him. His Light.”
If you’ve ever loved a pet, read this book. If you’ve never loved a pet, read this book. If you are not even a pet person, read this book.
And understand unconditional love can, and does, go in both directions.
Go and get The Book of Barkley. I gain nothing from hawking the book – FTC, get your own book and dog!
My friend North advises us that his good friend – and a friend to us all – MAURA – passed away this morning.
I only knew her from the Internet, but was introduced to her via North. She authored a blog for a while about clean, healthy eating. We exchanged emails for a short time, as my niece was doing a vegan blog then. I missed her when she stopped blogging, but was unaware of her having health issues. This now makes sense.
RIP Maura. You touched more people than you know!
or say a prayer, if that’s what you do.
Mary C. – Dave-the-mechanic’s mother passed away Father’s Day, after a short illness. She was 88, having had her birthday that Saturday. Her memorial is today.
Mary was longtime volunteer at Desert Samaritan Hospital, serving for 24 years in many different offices and was Volunteer of the Year for the State of Arizona in 1983. She was an active member of King of Glory Lutheran Church, singing in the choir for 35 years and serving as choir librarian for 20 years.
Mary is survived by her husband of 62 years, Al; her children Mick, Dave, Ruth, Karen; 8 grandchildren and 9 great-grandchildren.
To have been the center of such a great family, and been a giver of such service…
She will be missed.
My thanks to all of you who commented, wrote or at least stopped for a moment in your day to think of Dave and his family. – Guffaw
After the chautauqua that was getting my ‘good’ computer back on line and working properly, I switched from IceDragon back to Firefox. An updated version.
And all was right with the World.
Except, of course, my inability to leave comments STILL on certain BLOGGER Blogs. Not all, just some. Sigh.
At Murphy’s Law’s suggestion, I kept plodding at the problem. I reinstalled Opera, and was able to comment on more blogs, and pretty pleased with myself. I was even able to leave a comment on Lagniappe’s Lair (Murphy’s Law)!
But then, I was unable to post comments on Bell’s A Ringing (again) and now Lagniappe’s Lair (yet again)!! AARRGGH!
So, I’m off to try Google Chrome, again later this week.
Insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly, expecting different results – Benjamin Franklin
But rather, My Breakfast with Murphy’s Law!
This new-fangled Internet thing is a fantastic place! Not only do we get to have stuff delivered by The Brown Truck of Happiness ™ after a few clicks of a mouse (funds or credit permitting), get to communicate via Email, text, and Skype, but sometimes we get to develop friendships unheard of only a few years ago.
I am speaking, of course, of meeting persons we otherwise previously might have no knowledge of. Like fellow gun bloggers!
Sure, we can speak on our cellular telephones with such folks, and that too is very cool. But sometimes they have the means to visit our communities old-school.
And we get to break bread together.
Murphy’s Law and I have exchanged numerous emails over the years, and commented on each other’s blogs. I was fortunate yesterday to have him pass through my little berg and take me to breakfast!
@ 0700 (Yikes!) He originally wanted 0600!
To be fair, he was on his way South, and wanted to cross the bulk of the desert before the heat of the day. As it was 108* here, yesterday, I completely agreed.
We met at a local, independent diner not far from where I live. We compared notes about our lives, disabilities, guns and such, and had a great time.
I only hope (as I don’t have the financial means to travel) that he’s able to stop by again some time. Perhaps in the more temperate months? (hint, hint).
As we say here in the Southwest (if we’re sick-and twisted. as I am): Vaya con queso*, my friend!
*go with cheese