Good Night. Sleep Tight.
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Mailing Address for the Blue Planet
Your Say
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Real World Address for Donations, Mash Notes and Hate Mail
Who Am I? by Carl Sandburg
My head knocks against the stars.
My feet are on the hilltops.
My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of
universal life.
Down in the sounding foam of primal things I
reach my hands and play with pebbles of
destiny.
I have been to hell and back many times.
I know all about heaven, for I have talked with God.
I dabble in the blood and guts of the terrible.
I know the passionate seizure of beauty
And the marvelous rebellion of man at all signs
reading “Keep Off.”
My name is Truth and I am the most elusive captive
in the universe.
Duty, Beauty, Liberty, Country, Honor, Family, Faith — Plus a few simple easy to follow rules for guys
The Vault
Take It Where You Find It
Men saw the stars at the edge of the sea
They thought great thoughts about liberty
Poets wrote down words that did fit
Writers wrote books
Thinkers thought about it
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
Many’s the road I have walked upon
Many’s the hour between dusk and dawn
Many’s the time
Many’s the mile
I see it all now
Through the eyes of a child
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
Lost dreams and found dreams
In America
In America
In America
And close your eyes
Leave it all for a while
Leave the world
And your worries behind
You will build on whatever is real
And wake up each day
To a new waking dream
Take it where you find it
Can’t leave it alone
You will find a purpose
To carry it on
Mainly when you find it
Your heart will be strong
About it
[Chorus]
Change, change come over
Change come over
Talkin’ about a change
Change, change
Change come over, now
Change, change, change come over
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I’m gonna walk down the street
Until I see
My shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
I see my light
See my light
See my shining light
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And don’t let the progressives bite.
Thank you.
Like dogs much more then I like people. My dog loves me unconditionally, my wife, well!
VI
Tradition has it that when Adam and Eve were kicked out of the Garden, that the only animal to leave with them was the dog. Now, try to imagine civilization without the dog. Wherever you look in 5600 years of History you find the dog. And they were more than simply pets, they were members of the household, protectors, friends and guardians. Even the absolutely no nonsense Romans loved their dogs. One Roman inscribed this on his dog’s tomb:
“I am in tears, while carrying you to your last resting place as much as I rejoiced when bringing you home with my own hands 15 years ago.”
What did we do to deserve the dog? Absolutely nothing. The dog is God’s greatest earthly gift to man. He is put here to remind us of what pure Love is like. The fact that the dog only lives 15 years is to remind us what the pain of loss, of death itself, is like.
A young girl once said to me, “I wish my doggie were a person so that I could love him even more!” She did not know what she was saying. Any dog who became human would be dead in few hours. It would die after learning that no man’s love can equal a dog’s love for man. The dog would die of a broken heart.
Beware of those who hate dogs. Beware of those whom dogs hate. There is something wrong with that person, something missing, something off.
Dog lovers go through their lives owning and loving a number of dogs, each one dying in his turn and each one leaving a hole in the man’s life, in his heart, in his soul. So much a sense of irretrievable loss that dog lovers have conjured up a “Rainbow Bridge”, a place where dead dogs go to await their masters. Upon the death of the man, they meet up again, enter Heaven and are together forever.
Skipper, Tiger, Cricket, Joysie: They will all be there waiting for me.
I can’t write anymore.
Heartfelt and well said, Mike. I have a pair of dogs; Buzzy and Charlie, both Golden Doodles. Buzz has been with me since he was 8 weeks old and he still listens to me about as well as he did when we took our first ride in the truck together. Now he’s beyond 13 years, has a few missing teeth and I’m still doing what he asks or tells me to do. I’ll break when he’s no longer with me. He will be cremated and buried with me when my turn pops up.
Charlie had been through at least 2 foster homes before a friend told me about him and we know nothing about him except that he came from some breeder Louisiana. He’s a little over 2 years old and appears to have been mistreated but he is a gentle lamb who loves attention and he has folded into the family like one of our children. Charlie has no further misadventures ahead.
KING, Potemkin, Storm, Peri.
Muffy, Drake, Zeus, Herra, Sheila, Thor, Tenile, Liberty –
Excepting the first, all Doberman’s. All loved and given our home. Liberty is seven now.
Tears for all
Spooky. Chico. Bingo. Russett. Shadrach. Angel. Buckwheat. Leo. Summertime. And all my cats.
Just finished a commissioned work that had portraits of six well-loved dogs.
The ones I miss most are Lyra and Zoe, our vizslas. Lyra was a long-suffering saint of a canine; no matter what indignities life dumped on her, she never lost her sweet, sunny and uncomplaining disposition. I once posted about treating her torn flappy ears (way back in ’07), and that one post has remained the most-visited post on my blog ever since.
Now we have, among others in the house, a 1-year-old golden who is supposed to be the kids’ dog, and mostly she is. Even so, she spends a good chunk of the morning and afternoon demanding my undivided attention by pawing at me until I either let her out or bestow a proper tummy rub, to be ended only when she decides she’s had enough. I’ve no idea why she loves me in particular, but there she is.
We don’t deserve them. Thank God we have them.
From your blog: “Poor Zoe, she’s starting to get upset that we won’t go get her friend and bring her back. There’s no way to make her understand. ”
I believe dogs do understand, but in their own, canine way. My girlfriend had five little dogs, Ossie, Lovey, Coco, Joysie and Totsie. Ossie was very old, and when she died in my girlfriend’s arms, we both mourned, but then placed Ossie where the other dogs could view her body. One by one they came up to Ossie, understood that she was gone, and then mourned in their own way.
Great work, Julie. You got the eyes, and the smiles. They all look happy. (wordpress wouldn’t take my login).
JWM
Ashley, Buffy, Sandy and Imp.
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And I have tears, looking out the window at our pets resting places. Frankly I’d prefer to have my ash’s buried with them.
Dirk
Now do cats, Gerard– you haven’t posted a recent photo of your Editor of Color in awhile.
Baroness, Heidi, Ralph, Cocoa, Morgan, Sammie, Jake George, Harry, Avi and now Archie -in 72 years of my life, I’ve never yet been able to requite the devotion and joy but I’ll keep trying.