You make a living by what you get; you make a life by what you give.
WINSTON CHURCHILL
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Tom Parry on Folk Wisdom
Red sky at night, shepherd’s
delight. Blue sky at night, day.
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Our family took shelter in the basement after hearing a tornado warning. My husband told everyone to stay put while he got his cell phone out of the car, in case the lines went dead.
He didn’t return for the longest time, so I went looking for him. I was upstairs calling his name, when I heard our phone machine click on.
"Hi," a voice said. "This is Dad. I’m locked out of the house."
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When I overheard one of my cashiers tell a customer, "We haven’t had it for a while, and I doubt we’ll be getting it soon," I quickly assured the customer that we would have whatever it was she wanted by next week. After she left, I read the cashier the riot act.
"Never tell the customer that we’re out of anything. Tell them we’ll have it next week," I instructed her. "Now, what did she want?"
"Rain."
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According to a news story, if global warming continues, in 20 years the only chance we’ll have to see a polar bear is in a zoo. So in other words, nothing is going to change.
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Stop and Smell the Softener
I had spent the late winter months waiting impatiently for signs of spring. When the first warm, sunny Saturday arrived, I eagerly unlocked the storm door and stepped onto our patio deck. I was pleased by the sight of green sprouts and the sounds of singing birds. More than anything else, I delighted in the sweet aroma of the spring air.
Knocking on the kitchen window, I beckoned to my wife to join me in enjoying the pleasures of the season. She quietly brought me back to earth when she reminded me that I was standing over the dryer vent, inhaling the scent of fabric softener.
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Your Sunday Best
Our daughter, an ROTC cadet, was ordered to Fort Indiantown Gap in Pennsylvania for field exercises. Since it was the Easter season, she requested permission to attend church services on Palm Sunday. The troops were in the field at the time, so the commanding officer agreed only if there happened to be a church in the vicinity of their maneuvers. When a small country church was seen along the road, our daughter entered quietly, hoping to be unnoticed in spite of her leaf-and-branch camouflage. But all eyes turned upon her as a small child cried in amazement, “Look, somebody came as a palm!”
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Spring Fever
One spring day I was taking the roll in my secretarial class at our local technical college. One of the sun worshipers was absent. “Cindy won’t be here this afternoon?” I asked. “She went home to lay in the sun,” a young woman in the front row answered. Trying to correct her grammar without embarrassing her before the class, I whispered, “Lie.” Okay,” she replied in astonishment. “Cindy got sick and went home.”
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Standby, Soldier
Every Easter our church stages an elaborate pageant. Last year the man who played Pontius Pilate had to work on the night of the dress rehearsal, and a chorus member substituted for him. As we began rehearsing Pilate’s solo, the conductor stopped the orchestra. “Pilate, I don’t hear you,” he called out. “You’re not loud enough.”
“Pilate is at work,” a voice on the stage shouted back. “We’ve got our co-Pilate tonight.”
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Signs of Spring
In Ohio, spring is always eagerly awaited after the long, cold winters. When I arrived at work one day in mid-March, I noticed a sign gaily decorated with flowers and butterflies. It read: “Think Spring.” The first day of spring blew in with a snowstorm and freezing temperatures, however, and another flowery sign was posted. This time the message read: “Forget Spring. Think Summer.”
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Sleepless Saving Time
Twice a year, we change the clocks for daylight-savings time. And twice a year, my normally punctual assistant arrives late to work the Monday after we do so. I finally had to find out why. “Do you have a problem remembering to spring forward or fall back?” I asked. “Oh, no,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “What gets to me is staying up until 2 a.m. to change my clock.”
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Past Lives
On a family vacation one summer, we crossed Wyoming and noted several historical points of interest. The children were especially interested because they enjoyed the computer game “Oregon Trail,” which gives players a taste of the hardships the pioneers endured. We stopped at the famous South Pass to look at the wagon tracks still visible in the dirt. Squinting out over the desolate, wind-swept landscape, my daughter nodded and said grimly, “This is where my oxen always die.”
Mr. Summertime
We all grew up in a town on the New Jersey shore and spent our summers at the beach, swimming, surfing, hanging out with friends. One of my friends loved the season so much, we began calling him Mr. Summertime. “What happens when summer is over?” someone asked.
I thought for a minute, then said, “In September he becomes the Fall Guy.”
Wishful Thinking
My two-year-old cousin scared us one summer by disappearing during our lakeside vacation. More than a dozen relatives searched the forest and shoreline, and everyone was relieved when we found Matthew playing calmly in the woods.
“Listen to me, Matthew,” his mother said sharply. “From now on when you want to go someplace, you tell Mommy first, okay?”
Matthew thought about that for a moment and said, “Okay. Disney World.”
Moving Forward
The summer after college graduation, I was living at home, fishing in the daytime, spending nights with my friends—generally just hanging out. One afternoon my grandfather, who never went to college, stopped by.
Concerned with how I was spending my time, he asked about my future plans. I told him I was in no hurry to tie myself down to a career.
“Well,” he replied, “you better start thinking about it. You’ll be thirty before you know it.”
“But I’m closer to twenty than to thirty,” I protested. “I won’t be thirty for eight more years.”
“I see,” he said, smiling. “And when will you be twenty again?”
Sounding Off
I was with a friend in a café when a noisy car alarm interrupted our conversation. “What good are car alarms when no one pays any attention to them?” I wondered aloud.
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Good morning everyboomie.
I'm still having company. Well, whenever he gets back from taking his daughter out down in Tejas.
Today we got up at 6:00, ate breakfast, and headed out to hunt heads. When we got there, we found green, green fields of beautiful bermudagrass everywhere, and very little bare ground.
Back in the corner where it starts sloping down hill to the river, I scratched around and found half a point and a cool little blade. That's about it.
We were back home by 10:30, which was fine by us. The heat was fast growing intolerable.
When Shane left to go down to Texas, I stuck a pizza out on the front porch and backed it.
When you're at 97 degrees with a heat index of 107, you have to adjust your cooking time from 30 to 20 minutes.
You also pick up a few extra toppings out there. YUM!
Have a happy day everyone.
joe