Thursday, May 15, 2008
Today...I have gone....
Gone Gardening... this is to be much to beautiful of a day to be inside or blogging.

Guess who came to dinner......and sang for his meal....


It is a yellow headed black bird... only time we have ever seen him...which was Saturday
Posted by Word Tosser at 7:51 AM
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Wednesday, May 14, 2008
I don't know the answer...
I see that the mother of
Pat Tillman has written a
book about her son, called
BOOTS ON THE GROUND
BY DUSK.
It is about how her son died.
And this is not the first time or
the first war, that our men have
been killed by friendly fire. Nor
the first one, that the Government
has covered over.
Those of us who are older do
remember the true story movie, with
Carol Burnett, where she played a
mother very much like Mary
Tillman. A mother who wanted
the truth. The truth of how her
son really died. It was called
FRIENDLY FIRE.
I don't know how these mother's
found out that the Government was
lying. Did another serviceman tell
them? Was there facts that didn't
add up? I don't know.
The other quandary that comes to
my mind is, if it was my son, would
I want to know.
Pat Tillman was reported, in the beginning,
as a hero. A gung-ho, let's go get them,
yell as he went into the fire. Now, he is
a soldier who was in the wrong place at
the wrong time. To no fault of his own.
What image would I want to keep in my
mind? My son, the leader, yelling let's
get them, as he was fired upon? Or some
one who was there with his troop. And some
one behind him, shot him, by what I think was
by accident? And what hell the soldier must
be feeling, who shot Pat.
Sometimes, the truth hurts more than the lie.
Maybe there is a time where denial is a good
thing.
I don't know the answer, and I hope I never have
to find out.
Posted by Word Tosser at 2:29 AM
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Tuesday, May 13, 2008
It takes a Village.....
When you are a small community like the city of Kootenai is...you don't have
a big park budget. So you depend on donations, and volunteer work and
workers. We have had Coldwater Creek come in and put in plants,
lattic and a picnic table. Over the years some have donated trees and bushes.
The park itself is a donation from a long time resident.
This year we have a new addition. Thanks to the Kiwanis's and Bob Camp,
we have this equipment for the kids to play on. But as you know, equipment
has to have prep work. And that is where the Village comes in. The city Engineer,
and his crew, wife and others jumped in. Councilmen, even kids all came in on
Saturday. With the help of Rainbow Company delivering and putting it together,
the kids of Kootenai now have a summer worth of fun ahead.
It truly does take a Village. As you can see.
THIS IS THE BEFORE LOOK.....

The prep work was started on Friday, and here on Saturday, it continues with
the Rainbow crew putting pieces together.

Here we have all involved, the prep crew, councilmen, Kiwanis, Rainbow, and etc.
helping put a large piece together.

By nightfall, this is what was done. Still has some work around the sides with grass to go.
But the Kootenai kids have already found it, and have tested it out well...
It is so great when an idea comes together, and especially when so many gave their time.
Posted by Word Tosser at 2:35 AM
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Monday, May 12, 2008
There was a boy....
There was a boy who came to my house.
He and I would go to the park to play keep
away to hone his soccer skills.
WHERE DID THAT BOY GO?
And over the years, work would be done in the
yard with dutiful breaks for lunch and such.
WHERE DID THAT BOY GO?
And Spring was egg coloring with Fall, jack lanterns
carvings to be done with great jeers and laughter at
the kitchen table with the man of the house.
WHERE DID THAT BOY GO?
Summer filled with mix day camps runs and yard
work for pay. For buying power for bikes and play stations.
WHERE DID THAT BOY GO?
As now the past Fall came and went, with pumpkins
uncut. And Spring brought uncolored eggs. And now
the second summer is upon me with no helper.
WHERE DID THAT BOY GO?
For you see, the replacement to be is a young man.
Who spars with the man of the house over repairs
and speakers and stereo, you see. With sayings of
“I know for a fact”. We know when he arrives with
the bass of the radio competes with the roar of the
muffler. And up the stairs he bounds, the young man
appears. And our little dog squeals with joy of
anticipation of play, as this young man speaks. And
off he goes again, in the mist of bass and mufflers, to
join friends or his fast food job.
WHERE DID THAT BOY GO?
We know our time is short with this young man,
as adulthood is just beyond the horizon. A life of
his own will make him scarce.
WHERE DID THAT BOY GO?
And as I see each day, this young man, my heart
grows prouder and yet sadder, as he grows. His
mother, grandfather and I will all be saying…
WHERE DID THAT BOY GO?
I hope he remembers his promise of years ago.
His promise to push my wheelchair to the bench
at the city beach. So I can see the water and mountains
one last time. The bench where he and I sat for
from time to time, during many discussions of life.
WHERE DID THAT LITTLE BOY GO?
Posted by Word Tosser at 9:31 AM
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Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Mother's Day

Posted by Word Tosser at 4:31 AM
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Friday, May 09, 2008
the Toughest Mothers...
Here is the to the roughest of jobs of mother hood.
The mothers who are here at home, while the father
is overseas, trying to hold it all together.
And of course the worse of all is the mothers who
had to leave their children behind to go to Iraq.
Leaving their children in the hands of, if they are
lucky, the fathers. If not, then the grandparents or
their siblings.
During war, we see the names listed on the shows,
and in the paper of those who did not make it. But
rarely do you get to see the picture..of a son or daughter
receiving the folded flag of their parents.
So for all the women who answered the call. We bow
our heads in prayer for your safe return. And hopefully
a electronic visit home on Mother's Day.
Thank you...
Posted by Word Tosser at 2:36 AM
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Thursday, May 08, 2008
Mothers and Moms...
This is an email that makes its rounds at this time
of the year. Too bad the authors name doesn't go
with it. As it took a lot of thought.
I think we understand our own mothers, when we
become mothers ourselves.
This is for the mothers who have sat up all night
with sick toddlers in their arms,wiping up barf laced
with Oscar Mayer weners and cherry Kool-Aid saying,
It's okay honey, Mommy's here.'Who have sat in rocking
chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up
in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their
purse. For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies
and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never
see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them
homes. This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections
are hanging on their refrigerator doors. And for all the mothers
who froze their buns on metal bleachers at baseball and softball
games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars.
And that when their kids asked, 'Did you see me, Mom?' they
could say, 'Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world,' and
mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the
grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their
feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the
mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse
happens.This is for all the mothers who sat down with their
children and explained all about making babies. And for all the
(grand)mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat.
For all the mothers who read ' Thumpity-Thump Gets Dressed'
twice a night for a year. And then read it again, 'Just one more time.'
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoe
laces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted
for Velcro instead.This is for all the mothers who teach their sons
to cook and their daughters to throw a ball. This is for every mother
whose head turns automatically when a little voice
calls 'Mom?'in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring
are at home -- or even away at college -- or have their own families.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with
stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got
there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking
them to please pick them up. Right away. This is for mothers
whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to
reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when
their 14 year olds dye their hair green. For all the mothers of
the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those
who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the
mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their
child who just came home from school, safely.This is for all the
mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray
they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion?
Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew
a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart?
Is it the ache she feels when she watches her son or daughter
disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the
very first time? The jolt that takes her from sleep to dread,
from bed to crib at 2 A.M. to put her hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when she just
wants to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again
in her home? Or the need to flee from wherever she is and hug
her child when she hears news of a fire, a car accident, a child
dying? The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our
thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes
and sleep deprivation...And for mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers
without. This is for you all. For all of us...Hang in there. In the end we can
only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them.
And pray and never stop being a mother...
Posted by Word Tosser at 3:40 AM
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Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Mothers....
Mothers...
I was fortunate to have two MOM's.
One was my natural mother and
the other was my aunt, on my father's
side.
Mom 1
taught me several things for over the years.
1.When ironing the shirts, iron the sleeves last.
2.When cleaning the toilet, clean it from the men's
point of view.
3.Do the job right the first time and you don't have to
do it over again.
4.(When signing my drivers license permit, I was 17)..
.Don't make me regret this.
5.Hang on to those reins, never let them go, because
if your horse gets killed, you will regret it.
6.(after being thrown off one of the horses) Get back
on that horse, ride him right.
7.(when I called to inform her I was getting a divorce)
Well, you made your bed, now lie in it.
From this I learn to fend for myself, and to be strong thru
life's adventures.
Mom 2
1.One day at a time
2.love isn't just for the good times
3.You can love someone and not like them, at the same time.
4.try to look at how the other person feels
5.Don't be so quick to judge others
6.Hugs make people feel better and you too
From both Mom's..
This too shall pass
From this I learn to have a soft side to me, and try
to understand the other side of people.
I have had the best of two lives... thru both of them...
Mom of Reality and Mom of Compassion,
made me what I am today. Hopefully others will think
a nice combo of both. And yes, I did tell them when they
were alive.
Motherhood does not have do over's. You try your best
to do your best. And remember you only have two people
to convince that you did it right. The Lord above and the
hardest, the one that looks back at you in the mirror.
Happy Mother's day to....
Mom's
Step Mom's
Aunts and friends who become a second Mom
Grandmother's who become mom's again to fill in.
Posted by Word Tosser at 6:08 AM
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Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Mother's Day
Mother's Day is on the same level
with me, as Valentine's Day. Way
too commercial. And the guilt factor
is high.
How much do you spend? How much
is your sibling going to spend on Mom?
Can you beat it?
And then there is the card. So you go
for the $4.95 card with all kinds of
words that makes Mom cry? Or do
you go for the one to make her laugh?
Is Mom in the nursing home? What do
you get her? I will tell you, to be sure
to mark her name in it, as what every
you get, there will be at least 3 others
who will get the same. And which one
is your Mom's or the lady next door, or
in the same room? For hints? a hour or
so at the beauty shop at the facility. Or
flowers for her to brag on. Subscription
to the local paper.
If she is not in the same state as you?
A phone call. In the morning, early. So
she doesn't have to sit around waiting
her time away, to see if you are going
to call at all.
So what do you, as an adult, really get
your Mom for Mother's Day? I can tell
you, but you will be disappointed as it
doesn't cost much. First is a nice card.
You know if your Mom rather laugh than
cry. So you decide what kind.
A plant is cheaper than a bouquet of flowers,
and last longer. Just a small one. And next...
This is the most important gift of all, and best
remembered...your time. Go spend at least
2 hours with her.
Ask what it is she would like some help doing.
Clean up the yard after the winter storms?
Plant some flowers in the beds or planters.
And have a cup of coffee across the table from her.
And just visit.
Card less than $4, maybe a small plant, $3.00
time with you ..
Priceless.
Posted by Word Tosser at 12:34 AM
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Monday, May 05, 2008
The Meanest Mother of all...
I came across this about 30 some odd years ago, from a
radio station. I don't know who the author is, but I give
credit to where I got it from.
I think I ran this last year at this time. I like it, because
it reminds me of my mother... hope you enjoy it.
I HAD THE MEANEST MOTHER OF ALL
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other kids
ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal or eggs and toast. When
others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich.
As you guess, my supper was different from the others kids’ too.
AT LEAST I wasn’t alone in my sufferings. My sisters and two
brothers had the same mean mother as I did. My mother insisted
upon knowing where we were at all times. You’d think we were on
a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were at all times, and
what we were doing. She insisted if we said we’d be gone one hour
or less, we would be gone one hour or less, not one hour and one minute.
I am nearly ashamed to admit it, but she actually punished us. Not
once, but each time we did as we pleased. Can you imagine someone
actually punishing a child, just because he disobeyed? Now you can
begin to see how mean she really was.
THE WORST IS yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each
night and up early the next morning. We couldn’t sleep till noon
like our friends. So while they slept, my mother actually had the
nerve to break the child labor law. She made us work! We had to
wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things.
I believe she laid awake at night thinking of mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon our telling the truth, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth, even if it killed us. And it nearly did.
By the time we were teenagers, she was much wiser and our life
became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn on a
car for us to come running. She embarrassed us no end by making
our dates and friends come to the door to get us. I forgot to mention,
while my friends were dating at the mature age of 12 or 13, my old
fashioned mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 18.
Fifteen, that is if you dated only to go school functions, and that was
maybe twice a year.
MY MOTHER WAS a complete failure as a mother. None of us has
even been arrested, divorced or beaten his mate. Each of my
brothers served his time in the service of our country. And whom
do you have to blame for the terrible way we turned out? You’re
right, my mean mother.
Look at the things we missed…we never got to march in a protest
parade, nor to take part in a riot, burn draft cards and million and
one things that our friends did. She forced us to grow up into God-fearing,
educated, honest adults.
Using this as a background, I am trying to raise my children. I stand
a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean.
Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in the
whole world.
From Party Line = KUTI RADIO, Yakima. Wa. 1976
And just for the record.... my kids will tell you that this essay is
about me.
Posted by Word Tosser at 2:23 PM
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