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> Jenny the Pirate <
A Pistol With One Shot
Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.
Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.
And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.
Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;
But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.
But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:
In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.
For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.
For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.
We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;
Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;
Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.
For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.
So then death worketh in us, but life in you.
We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;
Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.
For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.
For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.
For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;
While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.
II Corinthians 4
>>>>++<<<<
THE DREAMERS
In the dawn of the day of ages,
In the youth of a wondrous race,
'Twas the dreamer who saw the marvel,
'Twas the dreamer who saw God's face.
On the mountains and in the valleys,
By the banks of the crystal stream,
He wandered whose eyes grew heavy
With the grandeur of his dream.
The seer whose grave none knoweth,
The leader who rent the sea,
The lover of men who, smiling,
Walked safe on Galilee --
All dreamed their dreams and whispered
To the weary and worn and sad
Of a vision that passeth knowledge.
They said to the world: "Be glad!
"Be glad for the words we utter,
Be glad for the dreams we dream;
Be glad, for the shadows fleeing
Shall let God's sunlight beam."
But the dreams and the dreamers vanish,
The world with its cares grows old;
The night, with the stars that gem it,
Is passing fair, but cold.
What light in the heavens shining
Shall the eye of the dreamer see?
Was the glory of old a phantom,
The wraith of a mockery?
Oh, man, with your soul that crieth
In gloom for a guiding gleam,
To you are the voices speaking
Of those who dream their dream.
If their vision be false and fleeting,
If its glory delude their sight --
Ah, well, 'tis a dream shall brighten
The long, dark hours of night.
> Edward Sims Van Zile <
>>>>++<<<<
Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.
So on Tuesday a week ago after supper, after dark, I was in the front room, decorating the tree.
That was because I wanted to get it ready so that Allissa and Melanie could plug in the lights on Thanksgiving night, kicking off Christmas.
Earlier in the week I'd asked TG to bring down from Erica's old room a small portable television that has a built-in VHS player.
That was because I wanted to see the late George C. Scott -- again -- in A Christmas Carol.
We've watched that movie at least once every Christmas season since it was made in 1984. It is by far my favorite version of the Charles Dickens Christmas classic.
(Although I do admit to a burgeoning fondness for another, more recent, remake: the 2009 animated version with Jim Carrey as Scrooge. It's pretty good.)
If you and your family go with the 1938 Reginald Owen A Christmas Carol or the 1951 Alastair Sim Scrooge... well, all I can say is bah humbug.
Just kidding. It's a matter of personal taste but for me, George C. Scott is just about the only Ebenezer worth watching.
Would you stand for anyone else as General Patton? Of course not. It's unthinkable.
Christmastime circa 1995 a thoughtful family friend, learning that I loved the General Patton version of A Christmas Carol and did not own it on videocassette, showed up at our door unnannounced.
He handed me a big white plastic book-like case with George C. Scott in black frock coat, Amanda Pleasence in Ghost-Of-Christmas-Pastly white, and Edward Woodward in fur-iced green velvet, Victorian London at their feet, on the cover.
I was overcome! My own videocassette of my favorite A Christmas Carol! Now I didn't have to wait for it to be shown on TV, or watch it with commercials!
I could pause and rewind the best parts, like when a sobbing Scrooge scrubs the snow from his own gravestone, or when the ghost of Jacob Marley removes the cloth holding up his decomposed jaw and bawls: MUCH!
Steve? If you're reading, thanks again. You're a diamond, mate.
I refuse to replace the gift with a DVD and will only watch the movie on that treasured tape.
At any rate I had A Christmas Carol going and as I applied all the time and energy required to getting the ornaments just right, I ran out of movie.
Since it was already the second time I'd seen A Christmas Carol this year (I'd watched it the night before while arranging the tree's seven hundred lights), I decided to switch to another favorite Christmas movie: The Man Who Came To Dinner, which I also own only in VHS format.
And while I was doing that, I noticed very bright red lights moving in a strange way in the street in front of our house.
Thinking there had been some sort of accident (although I'd heard no crash or crunch), I went to the front door and opened it for an unobstructed view.
But there was only one car and as I flipped on the porch lights and stepped out, said lone vehicle sped away down the street. I watched as it hung a right at the stop sign.
Mmmmkay. I continued embellishing my brightly-lit fake tree. From the chunky TV with the wheezy old-school VHS slot-cave, Sheridan Whiteside's acid one-liners continued to rain down on the heads of his unfortunate retinue.
I don't know whether you're acquainted with the story, but "Sherry" Whiteside is a world-famous author, lecturer, and bon vivant who has tripped and fallen on front steps belonging to Ernest and Daisy Stanley of Mesalia, Ohio, as he arrives at their house in the role of dinner guest.
Wheelchair-bound and unable to go on his way following the mishap, he promptly appropriates the Stanleys' domicile, forbidding them even to use their own telephone.
There are so many good sarcastic lines it's almost an embarrassment of riches. But Sherry's thundered directive to the butler, when the phone inevitably rings: Tell them the Stanleys have been arrested for peddling dope! is among my top five favorites.
Another is the one he spits at Mary Wickes, who plays his poor beleaguered nurse, Miss Preen, when she chides him for eating candy: My great aunt Jennifer ate a whole box of candy every day of her life. She lived to be a hundred and two, and when she'd been dead three days she looked better than you do now!
That's right after he demands that she take her clammy hand off his chair, declaring: You have the touch of a love-starved cobra!
And I like it when he barks at Bette Davis/Maggie Cutler: Shut your nasty little face!
Anyway. I was having fun decorating and watching/listening to the movie and watching/listening for the sound of Erica arriving in town from the Atlanta area where she lives, to spend Thanksgiving with us.
She finally did arrive, after the tree was done and the movies were over and the TV was silent. I was waiting, admiring my handiwork, no doubt thinking rather highly of my tree-trimming prowess, when she walked in.
We chatted and visited for awhile and it got very late. In fact, it was well past midnight when Erica, glancing out of the window, exclaimed that something was going on in the street.
I rushed to the window and moved the curtain aside and looked down (our front room is up high) at what I was certain was the same car I'd seen loitering in front, then speeding away, about three hours earlier.
Only this time, someone was outside of the car, doing something nefarious-looking in our driveway beside TG's work van.
Erica said, "He's throwing a big cone up on top of Dad's van!"
Just then, the alleged cone-wielding prankster dashed back to the passenger side of the getaway car. Only to do that, he had to run in front of the headlights, which appeared to be on high beam.
I didn't recognize the lad but when I find out who he is, he's getting an extra helping of coal in his stocking. Then I'll paint a verbal picture for him of Christmas-Yet-To-Come for reckless vandals.
I hollered for TG. I didn't think we were in any danger but I did think maybe he'd want to know he was being coned in the wee hours of the morning.
When Erica and I told him what had happened, TG called the police. They talked to me, since I'd gotten a fairly good look at one of the perpetrators. I told them all I knew.
That took twenty seconds.
Then Erica and I, yawning, espying even through the one-o'clock-in-the-ayem blackness the glow-in-the-dark white-and-orangeness of the big cone still on top of TG's work van, ceased to care and went to bed.
TG plucked the cone from the roof of his van and placed it on the asphalt beside our driveway the next morning. Now it's over at the edge of the neighbor's yard across the street. I don't know how it got there.
I'd wager it's watching for the opportune moment to ... I don't know. Avenge us. Cone vengeance is not a thing to be trifled with!
Meanwhile ... have some candy! It'll make you look good even if your name isn't Jennifer.
I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving. We certainly did.
The weather was so beautiful that before dinner, our family went to Elmwood Cemetery for a photo shoot.
It's relatively rare for my entire brood to be home at the same time.
Andrew was here for exactly twenty hours, so we had to work fast.
I wanted some pictures of all four of my kids together.
"Why Elmwood Cemetery?" You may be thinking to yourself.
And perhaps you are also thinking: "They're She is really weird."
All I can say is, it's very tranquil there. Nobody bothers you or gets all up in your business.
Plus, we enjoy the scenery.
Speaking of which, aren't my girls exceptionally lovely?
There I go bragging again. But I think a mother should brag on her kids! If your own mother will not brag on you, pray tell exactly who will?
I like it when mothers brag on their kids. You can brag to me about your kids at any time and I promise I'll listen and like it.
Here they are again.
I took pictures of the guys too! Two Andrews, a TG and a Joel.
The four who call me Mom.
And then there are those babies!
Precious Melanie, who will turn eight years old on the shortest day of 2012.
The ever-tiaraed Allissa, who will turn five on tax day in 2013.
Oh wait! Starting in 2013, every day will be tax day! Well. You know what I mean.
Baby Andrew, a/k/a Captain Adorable. He turned nine months old on Thanksgiving day.
He can stand from a seated position with no assistance, and even takes tentative steps!
My original darlings again!
And one more.
I leave you with a few lines of Thoreau which I read today, that make me think. And thank.
I am thankful and I am thinkful. And like you I am sure, I'm also very Thoreau.
=0=0=0=
I am a parcel of vain strivings tied By a chance bond together, Dangling this way and that, their links Were made so loose and wide, Methinks, For milder weather.
A bunch of violets without their roots, And sorrel intermixed, Encircled by a wisp of straw Once coiled about their shoots, The law By which I'm fixed.
A nosegay which Time clutched from out Those fair Elysian fields, With weeds and broken stems, in haste, Doth make the rabble rout That waste The day he yields.
And here I bloom for a short hour unseen, Drinking my juices up, With no root in the land To keep my branches green, But stand In a bare cup.
Some tender buds were left upon my stem In mimicry of life, But ah! the children wilt not know, Till time has withered them, The woe With which they're rife.
But now I see I was not plucked for naught, And after in life's vase Of glass set while I might survive, But by a kind hand brought Alive To a strange place.
That stock thus thinned will soon redeem its hours, And by another year, Such as God knows, with freer air, More fruits and fairer flowers Will bear, While I droop here.
We gather together to ask the Lord's blessing He chastens and hastens His will to make known The wicked oppressing now cease from distressing Sing praises to His name, He forgets not his own.
Beside us to guide us, our God with us joining Ordaining, maintaining His kingdom divine So from the beginning the fight we were winning Thou, Lord, wast at our side: all glory be Thine!
We all do extol Thee, Thou leader triumphant And pray that Thou still our defender wilt be Let Thy congregation escape tribulation Thy Name be ever praised! O Lord, make us free!
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Friday, November 30, 2012 at 01:44PM 
