PLAY BALL!

Batter was up and ready.

My grandson, playing second and the right fielder, mmmm, not so much.

Spare the Rod

Living out in the country.

What should you have to worry about? Especially in 1964.

Summertime comes and all four kids are out of school. With a handful of houses around, the kids run outside in the morning and you might see them for a bite for lunch and later when it gets dark. Checking on them now and then. Back in 1964 as now, there was daylight savings time, which meant dark was nearly 10 pm.

So, the kids go out to play in the morning. The oldest is 11, next 10, next 9 and then one five year old. Plenty of neighborhood kids around, all older than your youngest. Day after day, same routine. The kids play together in the yard, down at the "crick", run down to the neighborhood "cafe/restaurant", throw dirt clods in the fields, whatever it is that kids do in 1964.

But.

Somewhere along the way, the 5 year old doesn't seem to be around. Midday, 1, 2. Wait! Where IS she?

At first the panic doesn't set in. You know she's somewhere. Kids don't disappear.

Then you begin asking the other kids. They're clueless.

You keep looking. No where. And you realize that another girl is also missing. The neighbor girl who's 7 is missing too.

You look. You look. Don't panic. She's here somewhere. All the kids begin in the search.

Don't think about the "crick". DON'T think that she could be somewhere in the creek next to the house. The water is shallow. Well, it's shallow around by the house, but go east and it get deeper.

Everyone is looking everywhere. How long do they all look? Is it minutes or hours?

I can't tell you how long they looked.

All I know is that Robin and I sometime in the late morning made our way to her sister's trailer. It was parked way way in the back of her parent's property. Her oldest sister was married and she and her husband were away.

I don't remember going back to the trailer, only that we did. What I do remember is that Robin's sister had a big console color TV. I don't think we had ANY sized color TV back then. Robin made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

The only memory I have of the whole incident is sitting in front of that TV when my mother opened the door and grabbed my arm. I remember being lifted off of my feet and my mom yelling her head off about where I had been. I seem to remember a good "whoppen" on the way home too.

I cannot imagine her panicked state.

But I do remember she interrupted a good lunch and TV show. What was she thinking?

Sorry Mom.

Cambodia's Shame

The savage sex-trade industry in the country not only claims the lives of these young women, but thousand more starting at the ages that are shocking. Seven, eight, it doesn't matter to the evil people who kidnapped these girls. Sometimes their own parents sell them into the industry.

I received the article below in the mail today from Rapha House.

Four Girls Perish In Karaoke Bar Fire In Northwest Cambodia

Fire raged through a karaoke bar consuming the lives of four young women trapped inside. In this part of the world, karaoke bars are often fronts for brothels.

These four young women were prisoners behind a chained door preventing their escape or rescue. Now the charred ruins of this back alley nightclub starkly testify to the horror that took place there. Four lives were lost needlessly early Sunday morning, May 3, 2009.

Probably no western newspaper will pick up the story of the deaths of Hou Leak, 15; Srey Touch, 17; Srey Mao, 19; and Sambath. 22. Their passing is but a footnote to the endless parade of human suffering throughout the world. Things like this happen all the time.

We, however, shouldn’t let their story pass without further reflection. There’s the suggestion of something more sinister in this incident.

It’s not the cause of the fire that’s suspect. According to police sources, faulty electrical wiring is to blame. Nobody is suggesting that foul play contributed to the cause of the fire. But something about this case is troublesome.

The door to the girls’ room was chained. That chained door is troublesome. Certainly, the chance of the girls’ survival would have been improved had the door not been chained. And no one disputes the fact that the door was chained. Even the newspaper reports that the families might seek compensation from the club owner for his carelessness after they finish burying the remains of their daughters.

Now the club owner might plea his case by saying that he was only doing his part in keeping the girls safe by chaining the door. He might argue that the chains kept intruders out. But the chains did more than keep intruders out. They kept the girls in, and that’s why these four young women perished.

Four girls are dead because they couldn’t escape. In effect, they were prisoners. And word on the street says that’s exactly what they were. There’s a persistent rumor going around that they were part of a sex trafficking ring working out of Phnom Penh. That’s why these girls were held behind a chained door. They couldn’t escape even if they wanted to.

This tragedy is difficult for us at Rapha House. What makes this tragedy difficult for us is that we have a safehouse within a couple miles from where these girls perished. Help was that close. We would have gladly taken them in. We would have cared for them. We would have given them an opportunity for a better life. We would have done everything within our power to help them. But we didn’t know about these four girls.

It’s horrifying to think what the last moments of life was like for these four girls. We don’t want to imagine something as awful as that. But had the night passed without incident, what would life had been like for these four girls if they were part of a sex trafficking ring?

All over the world, young girls are kept behind chained doors only to greet another day of bondage. Help us to reach more girls before its too late for them.

Rapha House, P.O. Box 1569, Joplin, MO 64802-1569 • http://www.freedomforgirls.org/.

Venice

I didn't expect much. I don't know why, but I was expecting the least from Venice. We had chosen our itinerary carefully and I definitely wanted to see Venice, but I didn't expect to love it.

I had heard it was smelly and dirty. Ok, so I knew what to expect. Well, at least I thought I did.

We landed around 9:30 a.m. Brian had prepared notebooks for the trip which included all of our research, mostly his. Anyway, we were planning on buying a 72 hour vaporetti (think water bus)pass. We got our luggage at the airport, well Helen got our luggage. We were trying to keep Brian from using his newly-surgically-enhanced back. I was standing on one side and Helen on the other and the next thing I knew she was trying to wheel all of our bags.

Brian directed us to a stand in the airport which sold the vaporetti tickets. We got ours and got on the bus, which took us to the vaporetti area. Wheeling our luggage up to the water, we wanted to make sure we were taking the right vaporetti. First warning of Italy, there isn't alot of written information regarding their transit systems, from the vaporettis to the Trenitalia (the trains).

Helen and I stood by our luggage while Brian decided to go up to the overly crowded stand to see if he could find information about the vaporettis.

All of us were cautious on the trip, we had heard of too many stories of people trying to distract you to take off with your luggage, handbags, etc.

Brian had his backpack on and was standing in a crowd. He said there was some guy behind him that stood very close, so he kept looking back. Often.

It had been several minutes and I turned around to see if Brian was emerging from the crowd. Then I look up and I see, not Brian. But someone who looks exactly like my Indian nephew, Saumil. There's a huge crowd and I'm thinking, "Weird, that guy looks just like Saumil." Then I see his big grin. It WAS Saumil.

Saumil became part of my family when he was getting him MBA at Purdue several years ago. Helen had contacted him because of an issue she had for work and Saumil had written a book on Viruses. Over the years, he became her "son" and ergo, my nephew. Helen and Brian had gone off to India when he married and since then he and Brian have traveled all over the world. Saumil makes a visit to his Indiana home every so often.

At one point in our trip planning, Saumil and his wife talked about joining us. Unfortunately it had not worked out. He had kept up with our itinerary. He was at a conference in Amsterdam and was heading to Dubai, but had two nights that coincided with our time in Venice.

He hadn't told any of us. He had called the lady who owned our flat to get the address in case he didn't find us before that. He did. His plane flew in at another airport 20 minutes before ours. He figured he just might catch us at the vaporetti.

So Brian was standing in line and watching the people behind him when he gets a big slap on his back. He turned around and was shocked that Saumil was there.

It was the start of a perfect trip. Here's a pic of me and my two nephews enjoying Venice.

So, I hadn't expected to love Venice. But that is exactly what I did. It was wonderful.

We had been told to expect jet lag and to take a nap for 3 hours. Well, with Saumil's surprise, there was no way that was going to happen. Maybe Saumil is the cure for jetlag.

We took everything to the flat, which was right on a canal where we could watch gondola after gondola go right past our windows.

This is one of the first pictures I took from our window.

We started out immediately seeing all the sights. All I can say is that I was overwhelmed. Venice had such charm. The narrow pathways and numerous canal bridges. You can completely get lost and yet not be lost.

And, as I've made it more than clear, I hate to shop. But along all the streets were small, intimate shops where everything looked like it was asking to be taken home. I was fascinated. I really really wanted to buy an authentic Venetian mask, but I did not want to pay the shipping cost and I knew I would have to carry it over the next 16 days and not damage it.

The next morning we were awoken by the serenading of an accordian player taking a ride with some tourist on a gondola. I wanna have that kind of "alarm clock" every morning.

Saumil has friends all over the world and the next morning he had arranged for two of Italian friends to provide us some tours. This is me, Saumil, Andrea, Danieli, Helen and Brian in Murano.

Murano is an island off of Venice that is world-known for it's glass. It was such a quaint gorgeous place. And it was fun having Italian escorts as we made our way through the town.

In short, Venice was nothing like I expected. It was not dirty or smelly. It was wonderfully enchanting. St. Mark's Basilica was the highlight. Well, except for being surprised before we even set foot in Venice.

Don't it make you want to pull your hair out?

Sometime yesterday, our internet connection quit working.

I tried a couple of things and had a party to go so I waited until this morning to call Comcast.

I took my laptop upstair next to the desktop. Neither could get a connection. I called Comcast and she had me hook up the laptop directly to the modem. Here's where I thought something had to have changed at Comcast.

My laptop did not connect.

She said, "Wait, with new equipment, I need to reset your modem." Ok, wait a couple minutes and my laptop connect. She said, "The problem is not with the connection. You need to contact your router support." I said, "I need a new router?" She said, "No, you need to contact your router support."

I heard "new router" anyway. But there was a reason she was telling me to contact my router support.

So I go buy a new NetGear router. It's a NetGear RangeMax Wireless Router. OK, please note the name of the product. We bought it at Best Buy.

I start to install it according to the directions, which were lacking to say the least. I get an internet connection to the desktop. Continuing on the "Installation For Dummies" path, I suddenly got an error. Restarted everything from the beginning. Nope. Then I went for the advanced path.

NetGear connected to their website, which sucks for support while you're setting up. I tried a couple of things, looked like I might be getting through, but didn't let me secure the network.

I start up the laptop, it finds the "unsecured" network. Fine. Then try to go to the internet through the laptop and no internet connection.

Then I call NetGear support.

I put off calling any type of computer support because they take forever and you end up with someone who has English as a second (and poor) language. It's more than frustrating as they run through their script. I had to ask him to repeat his questions numerous times and he finally said, "I need you to test the physical connection." I knew he was going to waste another hour of my time having me shut off modems and routers and computers when I already knew I had a "physical" connection. I was getting internet through the router, physically connected to the pc and modem. I finally just said, "Never mind, Never mind." and I hang up the phone.

I'm frustrated. I HATE having to do this stuff. I huff off downstairs and I complain to Bob, who's watching the Indy 500 Victory Banquet.

I go out to the garage to grab a drink and our home phone rings. No one calls on it anymore.

I pick up the "hard-wired" garage phone and I hear the same foreign voice. He said we got cut off. I forgot I called from the home phone and he must have redialed. I told him I did not want to waste my time when I knew I had a physical connection.

Then he was frustrated and told me that my brand new NetGear RangeMax Wireless Router was NOT a router, it was "an Access Point". What? He repeated it several times.

Now I was "physically connected" to the stupid phone in the garage. I cannot comprehend how he is telling me the wireless router I just bought is not a router. I yelled in the house to Bob to bring me the "wireless" phone. I took the phone and head upstairs and this guy keeps telling me I needed to buy a router to make the "Access Point" wireless router work. After reading off the box to him and tell him I just bought it from Best Buy AS a router he still tells me it's not a router.

Whatever.

I call up Best Buy's Geek Squad. I explain to the guy what the NetGear guy just said. He's perplexed, I'm sure, just like I was. He asks to put me on hold for a minute, comes back and said, "Well, when I asked my co-workers, they laughed."

I laughed.

Ok, Best Buy assures me the NetGear Wireless Router is a wireless router. But they can't help me other than saying it's not my internet connection and they can send a Geek Squad guy for $79 or $119 or $179 depending upon what I need. I decline even though I know I'll be frustrated most of the night.

So after Googling for 20 minutes or so I come across something called a MAC address on the pc. I don't have a MAC, so at first I think it doesn't apply. Then I read a couple solutions from normal geeks and it's a little confusing for some of us. I finally find enough information to read that sometimes the internet provider has implemented a security of one MAC address. THAT is why she reset it when I started the direct connection.

So the setting on the router had an obscure option of Default MAC address of the router or inherit the PC address. THAT's what I needed to do.

Ok, how many of those "techie" support lines had some knowledge of that? I wonder if that isn't what the Comcast support lady was saying, but why can't they just help you instead of sending you through a maze for hours hunting on your own.

Well, I guess maybe the NetGear guy wouldn't know it given that he thought my wireless router was not a router.

Memorial Day - Thank you Vets!

Faithful to the End

She's ready to go Home. You can see it in her eyes, although they don't work like they used to. She couldn't see us when we went to visit her last Thursday, but the minute she heard Bob's voice her face lit up and she said she was glad we came.

I stroked her arm while she whispered her words to me. She told me her father was waiting to come, but he was being blocked. She repeated it again. I asked her if she could see him. She said she had not seen him yet. But she knew he was wanting to come to her.

The first time she said it I thought she was confused. She's 98 and her heart is failing. They've said there is nothing else they can do for her.

The second time she said it, I was certain she was not confused. And I was pretty certain that she was talking about her Father, not her father.

Seventeen years ago I watched my father pass from this earth, holding his arm along with my mom, sister and two brothers. I still maintain it was the worst and the best week I have ever spent with my family. The last week of his life we all camped out at their house and took turns taking care of him. When one of us turned weak, another was strong. I remember one entire day just tuning out, watching movies in the other room. Everyone else took over and by the time night rolled around, I was strong again and stayed up with him all night, letting the others take a rest.

Dad had never been one of those fathers who knew how to express emotions to his kids. I don't remember him ever telling me he loved me until I was 32 years old and he was dying. It was just a couple weeks before that when I went to hug him that he had hugged me back. It just wasn't his way.

But the last week of his life all of that fell away. He repeated over and over how much he loved us and punctuating it with "always will" over and over until he would drift off to sleep.

So that night I stayed up with him, he was whispering to me. I could barely hear him, so I leaned in closer when he said, "so you can hear me." I leaned my head to his and I said, "I can hear you Dad." Then he didn't speak, he just leaned over and kissed my cheek. It was the second time he had done that. The previous day when he kissed my cheek, my mother cried, "Oh, he kissed her." I sat there for a few seconds then I had to run from the room because I knew I could not keep from seriously breaking down. A few minutes later my brother Mike came to check on me and made me laugh when he said that after I left he had said, "Poor Rita, she had ducky lips." You know, the kind where you are trying your hardest to keep from crying and can't. It was funny, we laughed. It was a welcome laugh, we had quite a few laughs and tears that week.

But the most amazing thing was when he would talk about the other people in the room. Many times he would look over to a wall or up to the ceiling and move his mouth as if he was talking. He told us that Kenneth was there. There had been two Kenneths in his life, his brother and his best friend who had married my mom's twin sister. Both of them had died several years before.

Another time he said his mother was there and he also said that God was talking to him. I have no doubt that he was straddling the wall between this world and the next one.

So last Thursday when we went to see "Great Grandma" I wanted to hear what she had to say. From Dad's death I have learned that death can actually have some beauty. I know that sounds weird, but it's amazing to talk with someone who sees another world.

Great Grandma is technically not related to me. I met her 18 years ago when Bob and I were first married. She is my husband's ex-wife's grandmother. Over the years we were invited to various family events and over the years I had come to love "Great Grandma and Grandpa" as if they were my own. Their granddaughter, Bob's ex, has not only accepted that relationship, but encourages it. She had asked us to visit her, knowing it would not only mean alot to us, but to Great Grandma too.

We lost Great Grandpa a year and a half ago at age 99. They had been married nearly 79 years. He was a sweet man who always had a joke. When he was 98 and was needing a pacemaker, the doctor at the hospital asked how he was feeling. He said, "Well, you know, they say the first 100 years are the hardest."

Great Grandma told me Thursday that she still had her faith. I didn't doubt that. She said that when she was little, the Lord promised her she would see Him come back in a cloud and call her up to heaven. And she was still waiting, she said she believed He would keep his promise. I knew what she meant, she believes that she would be alive when Jesus returns for the faithful. So she was holding on, waiting for that to happen. She knew it would be soon. She wondered why it hadn't happened yet. I told her that He did not feel it was time yet.

And I believe her. But I wondered if she might believe He was referring to the rapture and He was actually just talking about her time to be called up, just like my own dad was. In either case, I know where this wonderful lady will end up. She'll join her husband in paradise. Of that I have no doubt.

I took the picture below at their 75th wedding anniversary. That's my grandson, their great-great grandson with them.

I'm so grateful that I was allowed to become part of their family. I will miss them both. When we got ready to leave her on Thursday, Bob told her we loved her. She said, "I know you do." I'm glad she knows.

Prohibiting the Free Exercise thereof

I've been browsing various blogs lately. Some that adhere to the same beliefs that I do and some that do not.

I'm amazed at both sometimes, both sides love to fire people up, using the "hate" term and saying the other side is all about hate.

Some are esoteric nonsense and some are intolerant religious fanatics.

Just a quick post for the sake of setting the record straight on the Constitution. Nowhere in the Constitution does it state there is a separation of church and state. It's been quoted that way on virtually every news station at one time or another, both liberal and conservative. The separation of church and state was in a letter Thomas Jeffereson wrote, it is NOT in the Constitution.

Below are the words from the First Admendment:

Amendment 1 - Freedom of Religion, Press, Expression. Ratified 12/15/1791.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.


Again, the words, "or prohibiting the free exercise thereof". If Congress cannot establish a religion, why then is it that we no longer have the free exercise thereof?

Update: Here's my point, unless you're someone who commits your life like this woman. http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/ I really don't consider your opinion about how awful Christians are worthwhile.

The Least

He was dirty. A bit scary.

He never approached anyone, just stumbled around the tourist area.

He didn't beg.

So he blended into the background, overshadowed by the large number of other homeless people.

Close by was a fast food, independent vendor, selling hotdogs, hamburgers, all the touristy type food you expect, with picnic tables to enjoy your quick meal before moving on to see all the sites.

It's a city with great wealth and apparently a great number of homeless. The surrounding scenery was breathtaking, known throughout the world.

She was touring the city with her family. They had come a long way to enjoy the views and visit the city where she had started her family. They had seen the homeless everywhere they went and after seeing so many, they all seemed to become just a bit invisible. When they sat at the picnic table, she was facing the homeless man. He was oblivious to her.

He was hungry and was intent on finding food and he found some. In the trashcan.

My back was to him but to be honest, as awful as it sounds, I probably wouldn't have noticed.

But my mom did.

It upset her. Here we were, eating our food and this homeless man was picking through the trash to find something to eat. She sat down and took a bite of her food and kept shaking her head.

She couldn't eat. She just kept saying she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand that he was digging through the trash to find food. She finally got up and said she was going to buy him something. We all pitched in money, way more than what would buy a hamburger. She ordered a sandwich or two, fries and a large drink. There was still money left over.

As she headed his way, I was determined to go with her. I wish I could tell you it was out of charity, but honestly it was because I wanted to make sure she was safe. It was daylight, but I know some of the homeless are not mentally stable.

He was sitting on a bench eating the little bit of food he scavenged from the trash as we walked up.

When I watched and listened to what my mother said, I was awestruck.

She approached him as if he was the greatest man she had ever met. She imperceptably slightly bowed her head and quietly said, "Sir. Would you accept this food from us?" She carefully handed him the food and the money.

In the back of my mind I could hear the written words, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." It was as if she was asking him for the greatest favor anyone could ask. It was as if she was approaching Jesus himself.

Even now, the gesture brings tears to my eyes.

Happy Mother's Day Mom.

It's all about the shoes

Admittably, I hate to shop. As I have mentioned before I was not born with the shopping gene. Shopping for shoes is no exception. I have several pairs now but only because I haven't thrown away ones that are 10 years past their prime.

I refuse to buy or wear cruel shoes for the sake of fashion.

OK, yeah I know, I've never been about fashion in anything. I just want to wear things that are comfortable. I have some lower high heel shoes that I still have from when I had to wear suits to work, but I never wear them now.

I also refuse to spend alot of money on shoes. In fact, when I went to buy new tennis shoes for all of our hiking in Italy, I was prepared to spend another whopping $50. We went to Dick's Sporting Goods and this wonderful sales lady helped me. I told her what I wanted and she was willing to show me exactly what I asked for, but she politely encouraged me to try some walking shoes. They were double the price. I had a cheap shoe on one foot and a walking shoe on the other. The difference was amazing. I splurged and bought the "expensive" shoe. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that fashionistas would not consider that expensive, but it is the most I have ever spent on any shoe in my life. Period. After walking 6 to 10 hours every day for 2 weeks I can assure you it was the best $100 I have ever spent. I will never again buy cheap tennis shoes.

If you ever travel to Italy and are not on a Donald Trump budget, visiting exclusive restaurants, don't bother packing any shoes other than good walking shoes. Every road, sidewalk, step, etc is incredibly uneven. I read this week where Tom Hanks said the hardest thing to do in the movie Angels & Demons was running. He talks about how uneven every step was and it was a wonder he didn't break his ankle.

So I was so fascinated with the choice of some women's shoes, I decided to take some pictures of the shoes I saw.






















The first picture was taken at the Vatican. Zooming in you can see her ankle is turned slightly. The second was taken just outside of San Gimignano, Tuscany. The streets look like this:

Notice this woman is long past caring about how she looks in her shoes. Uphill, downhill, stones, bricks, rocks, boulders, steps, ramps. The only area that was flat was Venice, but it was NOT even. Now you know why all the Italian women slowly stroll down the street arm-in-arm.

So, as a finale to this discussion, around 6:30 p.m. tonight, we were playing with our grandkids, I happened to look down at my feet.

Ummmm, I simply cannot defend myself here. Only photographic evidence will suffice. I took a picture below after I got home.

Now you have to realize I had not changed my shoes from work all day.



And the really sad thing is that the back is even worse. The heels are different heights and the shoe on the right side has no back on the ankle side. The shoe on the left is a regular shoe.

Luckily the color at least matched. The funny thing is that no one at work noticed. And don't think they were just being polite, they would have loved to razz me all day had it been seen.

At least they were both cheap and comfortable. Isn't that what shoes are supposed to be for?

OK OK, I'll show you the back just to convince you.

Italy - It's not all about the food.

Well, ok it is ALOT about the food, but that's just a bonus to the fascinating sites.

We found the main difference in the food in Italy and the food in the US is that Italy has not succumbed to the chain restaurants that dominate the US. Virtually every single place is a small individually owned restaurant and they care about what they put on your plate. Not all the food was great by any means, but by and large the food was superior to American chain restaurants.

The agriturismo we stayed in Tuscany wins the best food. Seven course meals every night, which means salad 4th or 5th. Weird to eat salad after your meal. The Spaghetti Carbonara was out of this world and though we tried, we found no where else in Italy tasted as wonderful. I wish I had taken a picture of it now.

Best pizza was in Cinque Terre when we hiked to Corniglia and is the picture above.

Best soup was in Manrola (Cinque Terre). It was minestrone but nothing like I had ever seen or tasted. Completely different than ours and anywhere else we found in Italy. The second night I ate it I DID take a picture of it. Believe me it tastes a million time better than it looked.

Speechless Italy

Ok, I should really title this Blogless Italy.

I'm having a tough time finding the right words for our trip. Fabulous, Perfect, Wonderful, Beautiful.

Maybe there aren't English words for it.

I'll keep trying. Maybe something will come to me.