Happy Birthday Husband!!!

I'm using this post on my blog to wish a very, very happy birthday to Husband. He's 15 years older than me though at times you'd never know it. I think that's one of the things that makes us great together. We're matched both intellectually and psychologically very well (I'll let you guess which one represents whom).

Last year I bought him a rifle. This year I got him a 2-year subscription to a magazine he likes (not adult-only). I told him I felt bad at the difference between the two gifts but that I also blamed him for it because he wouldn't give me any suggestions of what he wanted. He and I both agree that we're getting to the point where we have what we need and just buying something because we want it isn't practical. Youngest Son didn't know what to give him either so he dedicated his last band concert of the year to him.

So, here's to another year of good health and happiness to Husband!!! I love you very, very, very, (continue repeating very ad infinitum) much!!!

70 years of love trumps 6 weeks of winter

Every year I've felt sorry for the poor rodents all across the country that get dragged out of their dens as the crack of dawn to see a "shadow" and predict the weather. It's kind of hard for them to NOT see their shadow because of all of the television lights and flash bulbs going off during the process.

This year the majority of the country's "official groundhogs" supposedly "saw" their shadows. Depending on what part of the country you're living in, you don't really care that there will be six more weeks of winter because "winter" as we've always known it hasn't existed this year. Lots of people are blaming it on global warming. Funny thing about that is this -- the local news channel went through their archives of recorded temperatures for the month of January all the way back into the early 1900's. The average temperature in January 2012 doesn't even rank in the top ten of the warmest temperatures. The warmest was in the 1930's.

If you mention Groundhog Day to most people, they either think of the poor rodent awakenings or of the movie starring Bill Murray. I, however, have pleasant memories of associating Groundhog Day with a different type of emotion -- love. My Maternal Grandparents were married on February 2nd, 1942. Sadly, they've both passed away but I still remember seeing them exchanging flowers or gifts or planning to go out for dinner instead of worrying about whether or not Spring was coming soon. They loved each other very much and even after my grandfather had a stroke, my grandmother stayed right with him to help him. I know it wasn't easy on her, but she was there. And then after he fell and broke his hip and had to move into a nursing home, she went every day to visit him. She'd even do his laundry and often take him food. We told her that we paid the staff to take care of those things, but she wanted to be the one taking care of him. It was always hard to get her to take time for herself just to go out to lunch with us, even when he was telling her that she needed to go. When he passed away, she was terribly lonely but I could tell that the love was never going to end. Today, the two of them rest side-by-side in the family plot. If they could, I'd bet that they'd still be holding hands today.

So, I dedicate today's blog post to their memories. Sure, I could sit and write funny stories about groundhogs or the weather or any other number of topics. But today, on what would have been their 70th anniversary, I'll remember the love they had for each other and consider myself incredibly lucky to be in a loving relationship.

One month down, 11 more to go

January has flown by and given me an "interesting" month. At least February is a short month. It will help having that extra day in there this year so I can meet my goal as well as wish friends I have who were born on February 29th a truly "Happy Birthday."

It's been fun this month posting every day. People have loved some of my posts. People have hated some of my posts. Sometimes they were the same posts. And many of them have been largely ignored. It doesn't bother me either way how people feel about them or whether or not they're read. I'm doing this for myself and so far I'm liking it pretty well.

The hardest thing is coming up with a good topic each day. Often something will happen and it gets my dander up enough to write about it. Other times I'm reminded of something I've heard/read/watched and want to share it with those of you who read this. The majority of the time, however, I'm sitting and staring at the computer trying to think of a topic that won't bore you to death or be so incredibly dull that it becomes the most-read item on the blog and then I'm known not for my humor or intelligence or opinion but only for the most incredibly successful cure for insomnia published on the Internet.

I can only write about the dogs so many times and I've still got a LOT of the year left to go. I'd write more about my family but I'm just not there yet and not everyone wants to hear every little thing happening. And though my most popular articles so far have been about television shows, I don't sit and watch television all day enough where I'd be able to comment on a really wide variety of awful shows. And they'd have to be awful because all of the great shows have people writing and tweeting and blogging about them already.

So, thanks to those who have stuck with me since day-one. And thanks to all who have shared my articles with their friends and brought new readers to my little corner of the interwebs.

Oh, and don't worry....the "voices" are still there and still driving me insane and still keeping me up at night. Fortunately they're starting to try to schedule dates for certain subjects, so maybe the blog will be a little more organized. But I wouldn't count on it.

A rose received on any day is still pretty sweet!

Yesterday I received a very nice surprise. Husband and Youngest Son went to the grocery store for me and when they returned, they didn't bring just the groceries home. Both had picked out a bouquet of roses that they thought I would enjoy. And they were right!

A nice bouquet of yellow roses. That's one of the many, many things I really appreciate about "the guys." I enjoy that they like to spring surprises on me like that. No special occasion -- just because. They know I've been stressing over a lot of things recently and wanted to help me cheer-up. Even though flowers don't last for a long time (and I kill plastic plants), it's still nice to see something so pretty that reminds me of how much they love me. They'll send me flowers when I'm working away from home. They do it to remind me how much they love and miss me and also to make my co-workers jealous when I have them sitting on my desk.

I know it may not seem like much, but to me it means a lot. And that's what matters.

Kritzinger's warning -- a moral for today

Today's post comes from a story told in the movie "Conspiracy" by Reinhard Heydrich to Adolf Eichmann and Rudolf Lange that supposedly was told to Heydrich by Friedrich Kritzinger. There has been some debate over whether this story was actually told by Kritzinger to Heydrich or if it was mentioned at the Wannssee Conference during one of the breaks when the meeting was not being transcribed. However, it is a fabulous story and the moral is something very worth remembering.

He told me a story about a man he had known all his life, a boyhood friend. This man hated his father. Loved his mother fiercely. His mother was devoted to him, but his father used to beat him, demeaned him, disenherited him. Anyway, this friend grew to manhood and was still in his thirties when the mother died. The mother, who had nurtured and protected him, died. The man stood at her grave as they lowered the coffin and tried to cry, but no tears came.

The man's father lived to a very extended old age and withered away and died when the son was in his fifties. At the father's funeral, much to the son's surprise, he could not control his tears. Wailing, sobbing....he was apparently inconsolable. Utterly lost. That was the story Kritzinger told me.

What was it about the story that the listeners didn't understand?

The man had been driven his whole life by hatred of his father. When his mother died, that was a loss, but when his father died and the hate had lost its object, the man's life was completely empty.

That was the message. That was the warning given in the story.

Do not let hate fill your lives so much that, when it is gone, you have nothing left to live for.