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Independence Day– My favorite holiday of the year.

I’m not sure I am capable of expressing my feelings regarding this day. I feel completely inept, when I try.

One thing I know for certain, is that our Declaration of Independence was inspired. The men who wrote, edited, re-wrote and wrote again before it was signed- were men of God.  They prayed, pondered and prayed again. They soul searched and researched and prayed some more.   I have no doubt.

This day– I hope you take a few minutes and consider that.

I am moved by a speech made my Franklin D. Roosevelt on July 4, 1942.

For 166 years this Fourth Day of July has been a symbol to the people of our country of the democratic freedom which our citizens claim as their precious birthright. On this grim anniversary its meaning has spread over the entire globe–focusing the attention of the world upon the modern freedoms for which all the United Nations are now engaged in deadly war.

On the desert sands of Africa, along the thousands of miles of battle lines in Russia, in New Zealand and Australia, and the islands of the Pacific, in war-torn China and all over the seven seas, free men are fighting desperately–and dying–to preserve the liberties and the decencies of modern civilization. And in the overrun and occupied nations of the world, this day is filled with added significance, coming at a time when freedom and religion have been attacked and trampled upon by tyrannies unequaled in human history.

Never since it first was created in Philadelphia, has this anniversary come in times so dangerous to everything for which it stands. We celebrate it this year, not in the fireworks of make-believe but in the death-dealing reality of tanks and planes and guns and ships. We celebrate it also by running without interruption the assembly lines which turn out these weapons to be shipped to all the embattled points of the globe. Not to waste one hour, not to stop one shot, not to hold back one blow–that is the way to mark our great national holiday in this year of 1942.

To the weary, hungry, unequipped Army of the American Revolution, the Fourth of July was a tonic of hope and inspiration. So is it now. The tough, grim men who fight for freedom in this dark hour take heart in its message–the assurance of the right to liberty under God–for all peoples and races and groups and nations, everywhere in the world.

It’s a bit humbling isn’t it?  Happy Happy Independence Day.  I hope, with all my heart that I never forget the sacrifices paid, the effort made and the valiant men and woman who have made the life I live now, possible.

May we maintain our vigilance and due diligence to keep those freedoms intact.  It is absolutely essential that we do so.  Of this, I have no doubt.

In the days and weeks to come, we will hear more about Larry H. Miller, than we did before he passed away.

For those of you who don’t live in Utah, or know who this man is, I would suggest getting to know him a little bit.  His life left a huge impression on Utah.  He was far more, than the owner of the Utah Jazz.  There is a lot more to his philosophies of life, than his movie theaters, car dealerships and racing parks.

He was funny. He was passionate. He was determined. He lived life. Really lived the American dream.

He will be missed. Greatly.

May his family have peace.

God Speed.

Dear Mr. Gore,

I just drove seven hours in a blizzard the size of Kansas in order to get home from a small weekend trip.  The entire state of Utah received yet another blanket of snow, thanks to our dear Mother Nature.

Since you have been able to convince the world that the earth is getting hotter, and you are apparently positive that we are going into some kind of warming period, I would like to share with you my snow plight.

Please contact me so that I can give you my address. My driveway has needed shoveling 49 times, thus far this winter. We still have a good two months to go.  It’s been colder than ever.  For the first time this season I have seen it snow and be 13 degrees at the same exact time.  Wow. This warming trend is stealthy.

So bundle up my friend, who lives in a 10,000 square foot house and uses more electricity than the town I reside in. Come on over, and bring a shovel. There is much snow that needs removing.

While you’re at it, please bring the awards that you received for posing, quite possibly the largest fraudulent piece of dung to the world. I would like to showcase it in my ice sculptures that linger in my front yard. They were made in November, and yet still have not managed to melt away.

Thanks so much-

Lisa.In.Frozen.Land!

PS: A very good article on climate change

I’ve noticed the cycle of effort that seems to come with having a child or family member with a disability.  Much like the stages of grief. I’ve talked about that before.  I’ll be doing just fine, and then something happens, and I find myself back in the angry stage or even disbelief.   Though these feelings come and go, and I have learned to manage them better, they still crop up.

I was reading in a book about Babe Ruth.  One of Baseball’s greats.  He is a household name, and even The Bozark, who is not a sports fan in any way, shape or form knows who Babe Ruth is.  One thing that I was surprised to read, is that Babe Ruth holds the records for the most strike outs.

So in the batting rotation, one trip to the plate, every ten players, he would get up to bat, and give it his most.  His attempts are met with enthusiasm and expectations. His mighty swing would flair away from his body and often engage perfectly with the ball. Yet, there were also those darn strikes out!

I find it a parallel with parenting a special needs kiddo.  We get these ideas in our head. We work hard. We buy the equipment and register for the game.  Finally it is our turn at bat, and swoosh, that ball skunks right past us.  There seems to be a lot of that. Those balls flying past us.  We are not able to get all our ducks in a row. Something is out alignment. We have funding issues, or we can’t find the coach that we need.  We have stumbling blocks, that prevent us from actually getting to the plate.  We swing with all our might, and we still miss the mark.  Our child doesn’t respond to our tactics.  Strike one, we adapt for the next go round. We change the parameters, the second ball swishes past and we don’t even swing.  Third time.  We almost have it. We nick the end of the bat with the ball, and though it doesn’t give us the desired effect, it gives us hope. We buck up, suck our stomach in, and prepare. Here comes the ball again, and it flies right past us again.

Defeat is everywhere around us.  The smell of it is in the air, we have that humiliating long walk back to the dug out.  We even feel like we have people cheering for our misfortune.  Like any other slugger, it is tough to put so much effort into getting up to bat, only to have our efforts not come to fruition.  Going back to the dug out, and waiting for yet another opportunity to try yet again.

It can be so disheartening.  Yet, out there lurks the greats. The people that are successful. The stories that make us smile and the lives that we cheer on from the sidelines.  Thank you so much for the example Babe Ruth, and  Mrs. Organic, or Wes’ Stories.  Folks like, Mel and Amy.  They give me, courage and the hope for more successes than failures.   Every time I get up to bat, I have my whole team with me. Chronicler and Melissa C, Yolanda, and S’mee.  I know, with every swing no matter which way it goes. My team is there behind me. Cheering.

Thank you so much for that.  It makes that lonely walk out to the plate, oh so easier.

All of us battle. Each and everyday we get up to the plate for our children, our families, our goals, and dreams.  We hang on tight to that bat with all of our might.

May we ALL have more successes than failures, and may we recognize that we are never alone.  Silently or with a screaming chorus, we have those, “Greats”… reminding us, to never stop getting up to bat.

The Bozark, has a great post on the war taking place between Israel and Hamas.  Chronicler left an amazing link in a comment at Bozark, and I am really excited to read this blog and learn more.

Today they are discussing a cease fire.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs. Don’t give in now, Israel. Please, don’t give in now. Otherwise, it will continue and continue and continue. Go, go, go. Finish it. Once and for all.

Bullies are bullies and the more  you give in to them, the more they will prey on you. Haven’t we learned that yet?  I’ll never understand that bizarre philosophy of thinking otherwise.

While I certainly don’t condone war on a whim, Israel has more than enough cause. Beyond more than cause. A whim it is not. I can’t conceive of the people rallying in European nations, screaming for Peace in Palistine. Well, hell. Ya. Peace is what we all want, but Hamas, won’t allow peace.

I can’t say that I fully understand what life is like on the Gaza strip. I can only read and watch with the rest of the world about the strife that is there. However, I think that everyone deserves to send their kids off to school, and not think that a rocket is going to glide through the sky and whop my kindergartner on the head.

Who are we, to preach peace and talks and cease fires, when we sit here in our quiet homes, on our stellor computers watching from the sidelines?

We are an arrogant species.  We are arrogant in our thoughts that peace talks and humanitarian aid, can fix the shattered legacy of the Gaza strip.

Arrogant.  That hordes of people can gather together to protest a war, they clearly know nothing about, while burning cars and littering in the streets, as if that is going to make a difference. The real influence of that is the cost for their own country to clean up their mess, and for the media to portray bedlam through out the world.

Who is selling this insanity, really?

Good luck to you Israel. I hope you don’t give in.  You’ll always get the same thing, if you do the same thing.

I have recently had a conversation with someone regarding their child.  They have deliberately not put their son in football, even though he is enamored with it.  Because they are afraid that he will not be on a winning team or that he will not be successful in his pursuit of this beloved game.

Are you kidding me? I wonder if Thomas Edison’s parents had that same outlook. Or Abraham Lincoln.  What about Ben Franklin or Helen Keller? What kind of place would our world be, with out the influences of these great people. What if they had been taught that you can’t try, because you might just fail.

If you don’t learn as a kid to deal with disappointments and heartache how can you function as an adult? Never taking score at a soccer game because there will be a distinct winner and a loser? Not putting your kid in a sport, because they might experience difficulties?

Seriously. WHAT kind of society are we living in? This idea that everyone deserves a trophy or an  award for doing nothing is the very same concept our country just elected a President, who will take every-one’s money and spread it where he sees fit.

What is that? Seriously. Well, it is called socialism, but it is not a concept I can buy into.

Why I respect everyone’s right to vote, while I respect this person to raise their child in the manner which they see fit, I am just blinded by the thought of it.

So hold your kids out of football.  Don’t give them the chance to learn the natural experiences of failing as well as doing something well and being rewarded for it.  Go, ahead, vote for a President who is all for bigger government, is anti gun, pro abortion and who has no experience whats so ever.

And then, watch out folks.. because the ramifications of these actions will cripple our understanding, that hard work and effort pays off.

I have a deep, love for this country.   It is a powerful, unquie, wonderful tapestry of people. Every race, creed and color. Every religious community that exists on earth, comes here to worship.  It is really a cornucopia of humanity.

Unique.

I’m sad with the election results from last night.  Apparently I don’t agree with most people in the nation. But I love that I was able to vote. I love that you can go, stand in line, mark you ballot and submit your entry, and have it counted.

I love that everywhere you go, our flag flies true.

I love our Constitution, The Bill of Rights, The Declaration of Independence.  I believe they were inspired.

I hope, beyond hope that our newly elected President will take into account those things, that I do believe that American holds dear. That he will tred lightly.

I have faith in our Country. That we are capable of doing even the hardest of things. That we can rally together and be better individuals than we were yesterday.

I am grateful for this beautiful, gorgeous place and it’s people.

I would like to congradulate the folks, that I voted for, for their efforts and hard work.  US Representitive, Rob Bishop.  US Representitive Jim Mattheson who is not my party affiliate, but I believe acts on his contituants requests, and is truley a representitive of their thoughts. And newcomer,  Jason Chaffetz, who worked his hiney off to get elected and who I think will do a marvelous job, even though he isn’t from my district.  They give a lot of their time, my friends and I am thankful for it.  We also will be keeping our Governor, Jon Huntsman Jr. and his Lt Governor Herbert.

May we all reflect on our values. Pause and consider what we hold dear.  Grab on to those things and pull in a little tighter. Pray for our Nation. It’s leaders. Old and new.  And be grateful for those fighting in the war, for those who get up every morning, put their shoes and socks on and go out and try to make a difference.

And for those of them, who really do.