Home Alone lessons

Movie marathons on television are yet another sign of Christmas, and a welcome one at that.  There are few times I enjoy more than hunkering down with my family at the fort with a fire in the stove and an assortment of films a remote click away.

Some of these films have (not so) excellent lessons attached to their nostalgic glow.  No exception to this, Home Alone (which, like the Mummy movies, had the misfortune of some obnoxious film to come along and steal the slot for its third installment) just happens to be a leader in teaching said lessons via timeless entertainment.

Disclaimer: I will always treasure the first two Home Alone films for their place in my childhood and in Christmas movie marathons.

5. A film's entertainment can consist entirely of gratuitous violence and still be successful.

It's nothing new for a film to be as stuffed with violence as a cannoli with cream.  Yet when you think about it both of the Home Alone films literally depend on just how many potentially lethal (or at least highly dangerous) things an eight year old can mastermind and implement on a pair of knuckle dragging idiots.  Let's see, there's the assorted critical blows to the head and upper torso regions by household objects such as paint cans and a freaking IRON, a blow torch I repeat a BLOW TORCH to the head, and oh geez HOW many times did the Wet Bandits slip, get pushed, fall, etc. down stairs, through TWO FLOORS, off a building, etc. etc.? (They don't want to talk about it).

Yet the film was by most standards a success.  The first Home Alone film had only the THIRD highest gross in 1990...  No big deal.

4.  It's okay to fabricate an exorbitant amount of actually lethal attacks on a pair of stupid burglars to protect a houseful of insured possessions.

Or in the case of the second film, to distract a pair of really dumb crooks (so dumb I don't get how they escaped from prison in the first place) from, er, well that's not really clear; perhaps just to mess with them until it was time to call the cops (which was really when Kevin first got lost, but oh well).

The stuff in your house is more valuable than your life.  This is what Home Alone teaches us.   When a pair of violent (albeit stupid but still violent) crooks descend upon your house it is wise to turn into a kid version of Rambo and defend it yourself.

3.  Criminals can be complete morons.

While this isn't exactly the revelation of the century, Home Alone teaches us that some criminals are REALLY stupid.   I mean, naming yourselves "The Wet Bandits" and effectively connecting yourself to EVERY robbery you've committed with your hallmark (at least the jury won't get hung up on lack of evidence), touching a STEAMING, GLOWING-RED door knob and wondering why your hand practically burns off, and continuing a robbery with the knowledge that the house is OCCUPIED (even if it's just a kid), stupid.

I've heard of some dumb crooks.  E.g. the idiot who broke into a car, stole a bunch of stuff, and left behind the camera because it apparently wasn't worth anything but not before taking a picture of himself.   With the camera. Pretty dumb.

Now these guys in Home Alone, they take the cheesecake to go because their stupidity matched the camera incident and pretty much multiplied itself over.  I mean, come on, a freaking eight year old outsmarted them.  In two movies.   Granted said eight year old also managed to get away with a crap ton of property and financial damage without any apparent impunity (save for the token, KEVIN?!!! line at the end).

But seriously, if all criminals were that dumb I'm willing to say the world would be a better place.

2.  Parents can be complete morons.

Possibly worse than the dumb criminals are that some parents are total idiots.  Another truism and another instance that Home Alone really steps up its A-game.

The parents lose their freaking kid not once but TWICE in as many movies.   Okay, the first one they left him behind on a family trip to France.

Wait.

No it's okay, the film shows how the pesky neighborhood boy who was conveniently wearing a hat and had his back turned during the family roll call the morning of the departure was the reason why no one noticed little Kevin was missing until a good couple HOURS into the dang flight.   Honey, I keep thinking we forgot something.  No, not the coffee maker. No, not the garage door.  Oh, I remember, OUR EIGHT YEAR OLD!

And as if the family didn't learn their lesson the first time around, they decide the next year it's a good idea to go to New York City.  And subsequently lose their kid. Again.

Parents of the year material there.

The sad thing is, there are some legitimately awful parents out there.   At least Kevin's parents really do love him, even if they always losing track of him and have no idea about the mortal danger he's been through.

And finally...

1.  It's NOT okay under almost any circumstance to find a freaking gold tooth lying around in your house.

Especially when you've been out of town and have no real way of knowing exactly who has (and hasn't) been in your home.

(I added the "almost any" in there for the sake of logic.)

Come on, I realize you guys are incredibly wealthy but even your mini-mansion can't possibly materialize gold from its rare Peruvian rain forest wood floors.  This kind of goes back to the parenting issue, in this case how parents can be so freaking thick as to not be able to tell that essentially a full on WAR occurred in their house in a matter of a few days.

Honey, what's this? It looks like a gold tooth. Huh.

Based on their track record the McCallister family is doomed, which may possibly explain why the third installment was hijacked...

The lineup:

• Don't try this at home applies to what happens in those gratuitous violence movies I spoke of earlier.  
• Just call the police.
• Instill in your children to call the police (or at least a neighbor or relative) if you neglect their presence on a family trip out of the country, leaving them home alone.
• Also teach your children to not talk to strange old men when no one else is around.
• Call the police when you observe potentially dangerous (even if dumb) crooks canvassing your neighborhood... ESPECIALLY when said crooks are peeping in your windows...  when your house is freaking under siege... CALL THE POLICE. 

The stereotypical "donut munching, head scratching cop" portrayed in many films including these aside, the police are actually TRAINED to kick bad guys' butts and keep you safe. Yes yes, who doesn't get a laugh when Marv falls down the stairs... at least twice...? But seriously, if there are criminals bent on violence in your home's vicinity, call the freaking police. Like I said, it's their job.

Now excuse me, I have a movie to watch.  Cheers!

Signed,

RF

Two Goodbyes

For one of the last writing exercises from my writing class this past semester, I elaborated on a prompt given in class.  Originally, we listed five goodbyes and then detailed one of them.  I went into detail two more...

Goodbye No. 1 Spring Break

Airplanes roared overhead, car breaks squealed, suitcases hit the pavement with cluncks and ca-clacks, people shouted over the din.   I hopped out of the red Grand Caravan and hauled my hopefully (fingers crossed) less than fifty pound suitcase with me.   My Uncle got out with me and gave me a farewell hug.  The usual, these weeks go by too fast, we’ll see you soon, love you.  I shouted a goodbye to Grandpa through the open slider door and he waved from the driver’s seat.

I had no sooner turned to face the sliding doors and the imminent ticketing counter when I decided that goodbye simply would not suffice.  I made the split second decision to abandon my suitcase (sorry airport security voice) and dash around the van to give my Grandpa a proper goodbye.   His hearty laugh, one that always came from deep in his belly and could fill a whole room, and no less overpower the sounds around us came through the glass before he opened the door.

“I love you Grandpa, see you this summer,” I promised as I hugged him.   I breathed in his familiar smokey scent. 
“Love you too, kiddo.”   His merry eyes were full of laughter.
That was the last hug I gave him.

Goodbye No. 2 Wednesday 30 June 2010

“Hey Grandpa, Happy Birthday!” I spoke into the phone.  His laughter filled the receiver.
“I can’t wait to see you this weekend!” I told him.
“I’m looking forward to it. So what’s the plan?”
“Mom wants to leave early on Saturday, so we should be in by eight.”
“Well I’ll see you on Sunday morning then,” he chuckled back.  This was one of our jokes.   He always went to bed around seven at night, so whenever we drove up to New York for a visit and got in past seven, we wouldn’t see him until the morning.

“Guess what?”  I told him next, “I want to get a motorcycle!”   There was that belly deep laugh again.  “Oh really?  A crotch rocket?  Why do you want one of those?”
“Because they’re awesome and bad ass,” I promptly replied.
“I suppose you’d be the first in the family to have one,” he laughed.

“On another note, Mom and I were talking the other day and it looks like I should start getting things in line for my commission next semester.”
“Oh so you decided then?”
“Yup, the plan is as soon as I graduate in ’12, I’ll be heading off to OCS in Rhode Island.   I’ll be a Navy Officer, Grandpa.”
I could just see his smile as he replied, “That’s really something.  I’m really proud of you, kiddo.”
“Thank you Grandpa, I’m proud of you too.”  I replied back, “I guess I’ll let you go then, it’s getting close to bed time, huh?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, “I’ll see you on Sunday then.”
“Alright, see you Sunday. Love you, bye.”
“Love you too, kiddo.”

Three days later, my Mom, brother and I were en route to NY when we got a call that my Grandpa had died in his sleep early that morning.   He had just turned seventy-six.

XXX

Goodbye Grandpa, I love and miss you terribly.

Love,

RF

The Jesse Tree Celebration

Our very own Jesse Tree!

One of the most exciting things for me this past month has been my family group's celebration of the Jesse Tree.  Now, before I get any credit whatsoever in sounding cultured I must confess that my first thought upon being told we were going to have one this year was "What on earth is that?" followed closely by "Jesse... Jesse... I know he was one of those Old Testament guys... Yeah, that's all I've got."  So I promptly awayed to a computer and (of course) consulted Google.  Oh Google.  I did come to learn by experience though as well, I am happy to say. 

The Jesse Tree is a celebration of advent.  It is, in a way, a more "Christian" version of the Christmas tree than the common one (which I have no beef with).  The Jesse Tree celebration is not intended to be in lieu of the more common Christmas traditions.  It's a way of celebrating the coming of the Christ child into the world by following the Old Testament events that led up to His arrival some two thousand years ago.  An additional bonus for me was I got to brush up on some of my OT.  Woot woot!  Now some people celebrate the Jesse Tree every day of advent with an OT event, but because our group meets weekly we condensed our celebration into weekly readings of the events.  Both are common practices.

The bible is chalk full of references to trees.  They symbolize life, rebirth, etc.  In Isaiah 11, the Prophet records "A shoot will spring forth from the stump of Jesse, and a branch out of his roots."  This passage is one of the prophecies made of the coming of Christ, a branch from the root of Jesse (Jesus was a descendant of Jesse).  Thus the Jesse Tree is so named.

For each OT event celebrated by the Jesse Tree, there is an assigned ornament.  Traditionally, children make these.  This is one of the ways the JTC involves the whole family.  The kiddos get a chance to put that creativity to good use!  Boy did we have some beauties this year, I wish I had pictures.  I did contribute and make a couple ornaments, because I'm a dork and I have yet to grow up.  Props still to the kids though, they're little Van Goghs and Picassos in the making (sans the ear issue).

There are twenty-eight events and/or themes in the Jesse Tree.

1. Creation; symbolized by a dove ornament
2. The first sin; symbolized by an apple
3. The flood;  symbolized by a rainbow or an ark
4. God's promise to Abraham to make his descendants "as numerous as the stars;"  symbolized by a field of stars
5. The offering of Isaac where Abraham trusted God and God provided a ram in place of Isaac to be sacrificed; symbolized by a ram
6. Jacob dreams of a ladder to heaven and God promises to continue the promise through Jacob's line that he made to Jacob's father Abraham; symbolized by, well, a ladder
7. God's providence in Joseph's life, even though he was mistreated by his brothers and sold into slavery he was in Egypt when a famine struck and was able to provide food for his family; symbolized by Joseph's coat of many colors
8. God's leadership through Moses to deliver his people from the Egyptians; symbolized by a burning bush (this one didn't have to burn without burning up the bush, in fact it didn't have to burn at all because that would be a fire hazard...)
9. The Passover, where God instructed the Israelites to spread lamb's blood on their doors one night to protect them from the death of the firstborn plague.  Also the Exodus out of Egypt; this is symbolized by a lamb (baaa).
10. The Torah at Sinai, where God gives Moses the tablets of the Torah; symbolized by (le gasp!) the tablets of the Torah!
11. The fall of Jericho which allowed the Israelites to finally enter the promised land; symbolized by a ram's horn trumpet.
12. God used Gideon, an obscure guy from the tribe of Manasseh, to free Israel; symbolized by a crown.
13. David, a shepherd for the people; symbolized by a shepherd's crook
14. Elijah and the prophets of Baal.  Baal's prophets could not convince Baal to burn the offering to prove his power, but even after Elijah ordered a stone altar to be built and the sacrifice to be drenched in water, Yahweh (God) burned the whole dang thing; symbolized by... a stone altar!
15. God's faithfulness and deliverance to Hezekiah; symbolized by an empty tent.
16. Isaiah's call to holiness, where he has a dream in which a coal of living fire is touched to his lips; symbolized by fire tongs with "hot" coal (once again fire hazards prevented the real deal, as it did with Elijah's altar.)
17. The Exile of the Israelites from the promised land; symbolized by tears ;(
18. The Israelites waiting to return; symbolized by a stone watchtower
19. The return and rebuilding in the promised land; a city wall is the symbol
20. John the Baptist prepares the way for the Christ by calling Israel to repent of their sins; symbolized by a white shell
21. Mary's visit by Gabriel, who tells her she will be the mother of the Christ; symbolized by a white lily
22. The joy in Elizabeth, Mary Jesus' mother's cousin, who became pregnant after being barren until she was considered too old to have children.  Chronologically, this happened before John the Baptist prepared the way because, well, Elizabeth was pregnant with him.  Jesus still cooking too. The point is the joy; this is symbolized by a mother and child.
23. Zechariah doubted when Gabriel told him his wife, Elizabeth, was going to have a child.  He was struck mute until the birth and naming of John the Baptist (though they didn't name him the Baptist at that time...).  He named his son via writing; symbolized by a pencil and tablet.
24. Joseph was in strange predicament when the girl he was essentially engaged (okay, pledged) to turned up pregnant and there was no way he was involved.  Gabriel visited him also and told him it was all good and Joe trusted him; this symbol was a carpenter's hammer.
25. The three Magi learned of the Christ child who was to be born and set out to worship him; this is symbolized by a star.
26. The birth of Jesus the Messiah; symbolized by a manger.
27. Christ the son of God; symbolized by the Chi-Rho (XP) symbol

Okay I lied, there were twenty-seven.  At any rate, I really enjoyed this celebration.  I intend to incorporate it into my own kiddo's Christmases some day.  It's a great addition to the Christmas season.

Cheers!

RF

Still in love

The countdown to Christmas is in the home stretch.  The season of joy and peace is here.  I love the Christmas radio station, the lights everywhere, and the piles of snow we've managed to retain.  I love the spirit of my childhood that delights in the traditions.  There's a reason that it's called "the most wonderful time of the year," (at the risk of being cliche).  It really is, for some.

Christmas is a time of joy, but for some it's a time of sadness too.  There are people who will be spending the holiday alone, some for the first time and some for the umpteenth time.  There are people who will be missing.  There are people for whom the holidays are only a reminder of just how hard the times have been.  

While I don't pretend to be alone or destitute, just one of the St. Louis Post Dispatch's 100 Neediest Cases is testament to that, I still have my baggage to add to the not so cheery side of the season as well.  It's been a little over five months since my angel Grandpa E's birthday weekend, since he went to sleep in his reclining chair and woke up in heaven.  Some days it feels as if it's been an eternity since I last heard his wonderful laughter, other days it feels like I just heard the news all over again.  Some days I miss him so much it hurts.  It's taken me about a week now to really begin to comprehend that we're about to face a Christmas without him.  It got worse when I went down my Christmas list and realized that I wouldn't be shopping for his present.  In a very real sense, we're all still in mourning.  The wounds are still fresh, not that I expect to ever miss him less.  

At the same time, I'm positively surrounded by love.  In a way, the trio of my mom, brother, and me have been adopted into a "family."  Last month I featured our family group in my Give Thanks series.  In short, they're a group of families from my church who we join for a weekly night of fellowship (and lots of food).  I love them dearly.  Their support over the past year has been truly a God send.  Just the other night we had our Christmas kick off sort of night, with the last of our Jesse Tree celebration and a good old game of white elephant.  At the end of every family group night, we have a group prayer which we all contribute our concerns and thanksgivings.  On this particular night there was a fairly resounding prayer of thanks for the group and how we've really become like a large (albeit slightly eccentric but nonetheless loving) family.  This really touched me, as I looked around the room at all those dear faces.  At heart I'm a family person; I come from a relatively small family and obviously my immediate family is rather fractured.  This is why I felt so touched by my family group the other night;  they've opened their hearts to the three of us and given us that love I've always wanted in a big family. 
Now before the family I'm related to gets overlooked, I cannot say I'm not loved by them.  They may be small, but they're special.  While my parents are divorced, I know they still love my brother and I.

This harsh contrast between the utter hurt of missing my dear Grandpa and the joy from the rest of my loving family is hard to take in.  In the end, it's love that binds both of these.  It's love that fills my family and it's love that makes me miss my Grandpa so much.  While it hurts, I wouldn't trade loving him for a heart that doesn't ache.  After all, in the end, I'm still in love.

Merry Christmas to all, to those who rejoice and to those who mourn.  May all find the light of love somewhere in their lives.

Signed,

RF

My dear Grandpa E, Christmas 2009

Modern Slavery

Today CNN reported on a human trafficking ring that was recently thwarted in the Newark area.  Human trafficking, i.e. slavery.  Right here in the United States.  In 2010.



For the full CNN report, refer to "Held as slaves, now free" from CNN's website 

This is kind of a hot button issue for me.  Human trafficking awareness is something I am very passionate about.  I began researching about a year or so ago on the subject, after hearing about it essentially for the first time (or at least, becoming more aware of it) in a violent sex crimes class.  I'm a Criminal Justice major with a hope of doing something in the realm of working against trafficking in women and children.

The following is the introductory paragraph from a final paper for one of my CJ classes this past semester:

If someone asked me what I would buy with fifty dollars, I would think of a dinner for three at Applebee’s, a jacket from Target, or a tank and a half of gas for my truck.  I would never think that for fifty dollars, I could buy a human being.  Every day, in nearly every country across the globe, from China to our own backyard, human beings are bought and sold in a vast system where they are exploited by slave traders and holders.  This global phenomena is known as Human Trafficking.  In the United States alone, more than 100,000 people are enslaved at any given time while an additional 17,500 new victims are trafficked across our borders each year (David Batstone, Not for Sale).  While statistics do inference “at risk” populations, the viral industry that is Human Trafficking typically does not discriminate by race, nationality, or gender.  Any human being can be trafficked.  

I have compiled a survey of some of the research I have done on this subject:

• Globally, 80% of trafficking victims are female.  50% are children. (Hidden Slaves)
•  Johns pay to have sex with enslaved girls as young as five years old.  They often view their payment as earning the right to take a child's liberty. (The Client)
• Traffickers will groom their victims to earn their trust; they eventually convince their victims to travel with them, most often to a foreign country, often under the guise of a well paying job or an education
• Once victims reach their destination, they are stripped of their identifying documents (passports, driver's licenses, etc.) and often brutalized.  Traffickers will often use rape, especially if their victims are virgins, as a control device.  In many cultures, an unmarried woman who has sex regardless of the circumstance is considered despoiled and a shame on her family.  Traffickers know this well and brutally use it to shame victims into staying with them
• Traffickers essentially create a situation where their victims are utterly dependent on them.  A victim may find herself in a foreign country where she doesn't speak the language, where she is told that if she goes to the police they will put her in jail for illegal immigration (which in some cases is sadly true), where she has no personal identification documents.  She is completely at the mercy of her captors.  
• It is from there that traffickers exploit the women and children who are their victims, selling them for domestic and/or sexual slavery to the highest bidder or pimping them out, allowing them to be raped over and over again, daily. 
• Trafficking is not just a problem in Asia, Europe, or Africa.  It thrives in the U.S. as well.  

While I am hopeful that CNN's coverage of this particular case of the women from West Africa will gain  more attention to the problem of trafficking in the U.S., I know that for cases like this one that make the News there can be hundreds more that go unnoticed.  There are people in our own country who are enslaved, many of them pass under the public eye without a hitch.

Here are some sources I highly suggest for more information:

• Not for Sale, by David Batstone
• Trade, 2007 film
• The Client, pdf 
• Hidden Slaves, Forced Labor in the U.S., pdf

Signed,

RF

Operation Beautiful

"I'm Caitlin, and I'm the editor of Operation Beautiful. The mission of Operation Beautiful is to post anonymous notes in public places for other women to find. The point is that WE ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL. You are enough... just the way you are!"

When I first watched this during a presentation for a psychology project, I literally teared up.  There is something truly beautiful about this.  We are beautiful, every one of us, just the way we are.  I am passing this on to encourage other women to at the very least stop and tell yourself, "I am beautiful."  Because, babe, you are.

I have plans for some sticky note action in the near future

Warm fuzzies,

RF

Give Thanks Day 21: The Finale

Today I am thankful for the bountiful blessings that fill my life.  Now, I am writing this much later than the actual day before Thanksgiving (practically a week later, to be truthful) namely because I am terrible at daily post series.  Lesson learned.  The only reason I even mentioned that little factoid is a Tweet I came across the other day.  While I could have faked psychic abilities and explained how I saw through my inner eye, past the veil and into the future to pluck this Tweet off my feed, I didn't.  This Tweet pretty much sums my feelings up:  

"Each year 2,184,000 people die from lack of clean water, 90% of these deaths are kids under five. our problems really are minimal."

I can not take credit for this Tweet.  I am ashamed to say that I was complaining about some ignat in a Yukon who nearly pancaked me on the highway that day while other people were being more productive with their social media.  Nevertheless, what a way to put things in perspective.  This reminds me of the miniature earth model.





The fact that I am a Caucasian, American, Christian, female, who attends college puts me in a minuscule percentage of the World's population.  There is a world of people beyond my socio-economic class and they make up the majority, not me.  How sobering.


As tomorrow (work with me and let me pretend I'm actually writing this the same day the post is on) kicks off the "holiday season" I want to wrap up my Give Thanks series with a big old warm and fuzzy appreciation for all of the blessings in my life.  I am guilty of being self-centered and self-pitying, but I know that I have been given an immense blessing just by being me.  I don't want to take this for granted. Moving forward, I want to spend less time worrying about the things that don't matter and more time appreciating what I have: an amazing system of friends and family, amazing opportunities right at my finger tips, and altogether a safe, enriched environment.


So there it is, 21 days of Giving Thanks.  I affirm what I wrote on my kick-off post for this series:

We should really be thankful at all times for what we are blessed with, not just at special occasions.  The twice a year thankful heart doesn't make for a happy person, if you ask me.  No, I just really feel like I want to do this.  No implications attached.

With that being said, here's to giving thanks.  Here's to staying focused on what really matters.  Here's to being thankful for all the blessings that life has to offer.  They're the stuff that make life worth living. 

Hear hear!  A very blessed Christmas season to you and yours.  


Cheers,


RF

Give Thanks Day 20: Authors

Today I am thankful for those brilliant souls known as authors.  Sure there's some mediocre ones out there, and others that probably should never have been published (I am not saying a word...), but amidst the duds there are quite a few gems.  


My top 6 gems are:


1. Edgar Allan Poe:  This guy really had a crappy life, and the opiates didn't make the situation better, but he was a heck of an amazing writer (even if he was zonked half of the time).  


2. Abraham Lincoln: I have to give this guy props.  Not only was he a pretty ballsy politician, I admire his simplicity.  He reminds me of my angel Grandpa E, whose motto always was "If you can say it in simpler words, do it.  No one gives a damn about your big words if they can't understand them." Brevity was also a winner in Grandpa's book.  Well, good ole' Abe really hit that Gettysburg address out of the park (er, cemetery).  The best part was him not even realizing how amazing his little speech really was.  History really didn't engrave for all eternity the speech from the first guy who spoke that day; what was it  something around two hours in length?  Then Abe gets up there and in literally one paragraph and a long sentence, he immortalized his words.  Talk about keeping it short and sweet and to the point.  Kudos, Abe.  


3.  Lewis Carroll:  I adore Alice in Wonderland.  A. d. o. r. e.  Point made?  I think so.  This guy just gets an automatic win and a pat on the back for contributing such an amazing piece of literature to the world.  Oh and he also kind of sort of is the reason Alice is on my baby name list.  


4.  Ray Bradbury: Not only is Bradbury a fantastic author in his own right, he managed to reference Poe without leeching his style.  I generally detest on principle rewrites; I'm a stickler for the original.  Boy howdy did Bradbury give me an exception.  Exhibit A: Usher II of Bradbury's Martian Chronicles.  Simply splendid.  He recaptured the spirit of Poe's original The Fall of the House of Usher while offering a completely new story ripe with all sorts of great Easter egg references for those Poe fanatics out there (crazy people, I tell you).  Best line ever:  

"Garrett," said Stendahl, "do you know why I've done this to you?  Because you burned Mr. Poe's books without really reading them.  You took other people's advice that they needed burning.  Otherwise you'd have realized what I was going to do to you when we came down here a moment ago.  Ignorance is fatal, Mr. Garrett."

5.  J.K. Rowling:  She brought us Harry Potter, and butter beer (okay, I've never tried the stuff, but it's the principle of the matter), and nitwit, blubber, oddment, and tweak.  I really do think this speaks for itself.  This woman has pizazz and one heck of a noggin.  I simply could not get enough of the HP series that once I read the American edition a good dozen times each, I procured for myself a set of the UK edition.  Go ahead and slap that D on my forehead now, I don't care.  I have jumpers and moustaches and motorbikes and pyjamas and the Philosopher's Stone, so pfft!


6.  John Marsden:  Last but not least the man responsible for the fantastic books that comprise the Tomorrow When The War Began series.  Simply put, I'm a fan.  An avid one at that.  


I'm thankful for all the good things in my life and literature just happens to be one of them.  I'm thankful for the authors who have honored the world by sharing their minds.

2 days to Turkey Day!


Cheers!

Give Thanks Day 19: Women Who Kick(ed) Butt

I look up to strong people who aren't afraid to be who they, or do so in spite of their fear as the case may often be.  As a woman, I can't help that I especially look up to other women who accomplish this.  The archaic notion that women are to be completely subservient to men is bull shit, pardon the language.  If my only purpose in life is to pleasure men and make babies, then I would be a uterus with legs.  That's it.  I wouldn't have a heart or a brain.  Alas, I have both.


Today I am thankful for women who stand up for what they believe in.  I am thankful for women, like these who, in spite of adverse and often hostile situations, did not back down from what they believed.  These women lost their lives in the process. 


Woman Who Kicked Butt: Minerva Mirabal

Patria, Dedé, and Minerva Mirabal

Until recently, I had never heard of the Mirabal sisters, a.k.a. "Los Mariposas" or the Butterflies from the Dominican Republic.  Patria, Dedé, Minerva, and Maté Maribal opposed Rafael Trujillo, a despotic dictator who ruled the DR from 1931 until his assassination in 1960.  Minerva was considered to be the leader of the sisters.  Three of the women, Minerva, Patria, and Maté were executed for their part in resisting Trujillo.  I really wish I could go on about them.  These women were amazing.  The surviving sister, Dedé, has dedicated her life to telling her sisters' story.  Michelle Rodriguez (whom I have not once mentioned...) starred in the recent film Trópico de Sangre which chronicled the lives of the Mirabal family and their resistance against Trujillo.  

While I highly recommend this film, I must warn that it is rated R and for good reason.  This is not one for family night, folks.  But that doesn't mean it shouldn't be seen.  

Woman Who Kicked Butt: Sophie Scholl

Sophie Scholl

Sophie and Hans Scholl, siblings, were leaders of the White Rose, a resistance group in Germany during WWII.  They opposed the Nazi regime and were eventually caught distributing anti-Nazi materials at the University of Munich.  They were convicted of high treason and sentenced to death.  Instead of being granted the 90 day period between conviction and execution as mandated by German law at the time, the Scholls and one of their comrades were only given a few hours.  All three were executed by guillotine on February 22, 1943.  


Sophie's final words were: "How can we expect righteousness to prevail when there is hardly anyone willing to give himself up individually to a righteous cause. Such a fine, sunny day, and I have to go, but what does my death matter, if through us thousands of people are awakened and stirred to action?"


The film Sophie Scholl: The Final Days is also excellent, a must-see.  

There's 3 more days left until Thanksgiving.

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 18: BSA

Today I am thankful for the Boy Scouts of America.  This may come as no surprise as today happens to be a very important day in the life of one Boy Scout I am very close to.  My little brother, whom I often refer to as Tapeworm in these parts, had his Eagle Court of Honor today.  After all those years of merit badge and leadership work, of the past year of project planning and production, after everything he finally joined the Brotherhood of Eagle Scouts.  For those who may not be familiar with the Eagle Award, it is the Boy Scout's highest honor. The Eagle truly shows the dedication and character of the young man who earns it.

I am thankful for the Boy Scouts of America because of its history of strengthening and supporting young boys as they become young men and continue into adulthood.  I've seen my little brother grow from an awkward little boy with practically a speech impairment, to a handsome young man standing in front of at least a hundred people talking as naturally as can be.  I know the influence the fine leadership in his troop has had on him; he looks up to quite a few of his Boy Scout leaders.

It takes a village, or something along those lines, to raise a child.  So it's not just Boy Scouts who have shaped the young man my brother is today.  But I know for sure that it has had a huge impact on him.  I've seen the other boys who've left the troop when Boy Scouts wasn't cool enough.  My brother lost a number of friends over the years because of his involvement in Boy Scouts.  They didn't see the person my brother was to become.  The young man my brother is today is one of integrity and respect.  Sure he's a total goofball, but he knows what's what.  He has a good head on his shoulders.  He's following in the footsteps of the older scouts who have gone before him.

My brother has a lot ahead of him.  At the risk of sounding cliche, there's no substitute for character.  It's something that you either have or you don't.  It's something that can help you no matter what career you choose, no matter what job you have.  Well, thanks in part to Boy Scouts, my brother has character.

Thank you, Boy Scouts of America.

4 more days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 17: America

I can't in good faith start today off without pointing out that darn elephant again.  He crops up so often, it's not funny anymore.  Not that it ever was... but I digress to more important matters.  Such as that feeling that many of my topics seem generic.  If there's anything I detest, it's being generic.  Plain.  Boring.  Zzzzz.  Point made.  The reason this came to mind was because I feel as if I've chosen yet another generic topic.

Today, I'm thankful for the United States of America.  That statement alone can be thought of as generic, over-used, and for most intents and purposes, meaningless.  It's the a watered down concept of America, which evokes such a generic feeling.  That concept is rife with drinking glasses stamped with the American flag (yet made in China) at the dollar store, cute ceramic cats festooned in flags and stars and (of course) glitter in mail order catalogs, t-shirts and visors and flip flops and, for the love of God, underwear even.  But they all seem to get in the way of what "America" means.

America isn't about the baby bib with its uneven stamp job that says "Proud to be an American" with a "Made in Indonesia" tag on the back.  It's not about the gimcracks and gewgaws.

I'm not saying it's bad to wear a hat or a t-shirt with the American flag on it.  Represent baby!  But know what you represent.  There's more to those stars and stripes than the smudged silk screen imprint or the chipped paint.  There's more to the statement "I'm thankful for the United States of America."

Today I am thankful for the spirit of America.  The spirit that I believe lies in every American's heart.  The spirit that empowers our soldiers, our public defenders, our leaders, and our citizens.  I'm thankful for the true spirit that shines through the commercialism.  I'm thankful for the country that protects the blessings that I have been thankful for by name these past few weeks, and the many many more blessings that I enjoy on a daily basis.

5 days until Turkey Day!

Cheers,

RF

Give Thanks Day 16: Teachers

Teachers, from kindergarten to graduate professors, have the ability to make or break a student.  We've all heard the rags to riches type stories where an empowered teacher reaches out to that one troubled kid and completely turns his or her life around.  Now, I don't have just one teacher that completely turned my life around but I have had a few teachers in my school career so far who had an impact on my life.  Today I'm thankful for those teachers.

1. My first grade teacher, Ms. H, was a vibrant ball of energy.  She was so animated in our lessons.  I learned to count to ten and memorized the months in Spanish.  I also learned the sign language alphabet from her.  Another thing I loved about Ms. H was her kindness.  I was one of those kids, the kind who cried at pretty much anything.  A girl stole my crayon once.  I cried.  A boy knocked my book off my desk.  I cried.  The last necklace in the prize bin that I had been eyeing for a whole week was tangled when I finally got enough green slips to earn it.  I cried.  Point made.  Ms. H was really patient through it all.  She was even patient when I mixed up the lost and found with her extra supply of notebooks.  In my defense, they had been there for a long time (okay a day) and no one seemed to be claiming them.  Why let perfectly good notebooks walk away like that?  Apparently that's what Ms. H thought when she discovered them.  She was totally cool about it though.  That had the potential to be super damaging.  Sigh.  Thank you Ms. H for being so kind and patient and loving.  
2. When I was in third grade, I had a teacher Mrs. R who was probably in her late fifties to early sixties.  I remember Mrs. R mostly because of the way she supported me when I came back to school after my mom got really sick over spring break.  It was a difficult few months, waiting for her to get out of the hospital and then my Nana, her mother, came to stay with us for a while.  Mrs. R was really comforting.  I remember her giving me a hug for seemingly no apparent reason.  She was also very understanding when I was continually bullied by this one kid and my mom asked for him to be switched out of my class.  She made sure we weren't in the same recess rotation anymore and that he didn't send me nasty notes via his little cronies.  Thank you Mrs. R for the support, I appreciate it more than you may know.  
3. I switched schools three times in elementary school.  By time I reached the fourth grade, I was tired of transitioning to a new place so often.  Mrs. M was always really calm, she rarely lost her temper (I honestly can't remember a time where she did, I just say rarely for practical purposes).  Mrs. M was also really petite, which has nothing to do with her teaching it just stood out to me because I towered over her.  She seemed so pretty and perfect and I wished I could be tiny and dainty like her.  I especially remember how she taught me to spell out "nowhere" and to remember how to spell "together."  The book Journey to Nowhere by Mary Jane Auch was instrumental in this process.  Mrs. M was also really big on structured reading time, where we would have to read on our own for a certain period of time everyday.  I loved it.  So thank you, Mrs. M, for your grace and your help.  
4. Mrs. P is my favorite teacher from my middle school years perhaps because of one day's events.  September 11, 2001 is not an easy day to forget.  It's also not easy to forget the teacher who first told my class what had happened.  On 9/11, I was the first kid Mrs. P let go to the counselor's office to call my parents.  Mrs. P was my bandage teacher; not because of 9/11 though but because I had her after I had Mr. L.  He once made me cry.  No matter how downtrodden, sad, or frustrated I looked or felt went I got to her class, Mrs. P always knew how to cheer me up.  Thank you Mrs. P for your empathy.  
5. Last but certainly not least is Mr. and Mrs. S.  In my small high school, it was not uncommon to have the same teacher different years for different subjects.  I had Mr. and Mrs. S for various English (Mrs. S) and History/International Studies classes (Mr. S).  Mr. and Mrs. S were also actively involved (and for a super long time ran) the small but mighty theatre group.  I spent a lot of time with the Ss, from class time, to extracurriculars, to school trips.  Since I graduated, we've still remained in contact.  I love visiting with them.  Thank you Mr. and Mrs. S for just being you and for teaching me how to write a proper essay.  Love you guys!

Well that wraps it up!  

5 days left until Thanksgiving!

Cheers,

RF

Give Thanks Day 15: College

Today I'm thankful for my education in general, but especially for the ability to go to college.  I've always loved the Nelson Mandela quote "Education is the most powerful weapon you can use to change the world."  Maybe it's because I kind of want to kick butt, change the world, something like that.  Maybe it's because Nelson Mandela is a really cool cat.  Maybe it's D all of the above.

Lack of financial support, civil unrest, inadequate clothing, and other devastating factors prevent a large portion of the world's population from accessing even a basic level of education.  I am blessed to not only live in a country where I have a free education at my disposal through high school (okay, so technically it's not free, tax dollars help pay for it, but you get my point) but there's also an incredible amount of support out there for me to continue my education in college.

There are so many people who will only ever only dream of the blessings that I admit I can take for granted at times.  I'm ashamed that I don't always consider this; so often I get sidetracked by things that are rather irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

Nevertheless, today I am truly thankful to be able to go to college.

Despite the fact that I haven't been that great at keeping up with daily posts (okay, I'm awful at it), this Give Thanks series really has helped me keep things in perspective.

7 Days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 14: L High

Today I'm thankful for my old high school.  It's been a few years since I graduated, yes, but I still appreciate the experiences I had there.  

When I was in middle school, I went to a public school.  For the record, I am in no way talking smack against the public school system.  I think it is a valuable asset to society.  Towards the end of my eighth grade year, I found myself dreading more and more going to the public high school.  Let me rephrase that, I dreaded going to any high school with the group of bullies that had tormented me for a fair number of years.  I was done with the name calling, the teasing, the tripping, the commentary, the looks, etc.  Yes, I was a pudgy kid who wore baggy clothes and read books and had stinky shampoo (I admit that stuff was noxious) and who was completely inept in P.E. (physical exertion wasn't my thing).  That still didn't warrant the bullying.  By time high school was approaching, I decided I needed a switch.  I wanted to go to a different high school.  At that point, I would have gone to a school on Mars if it meant getting away from those kids.  We looked into another public high school (that is funnily enough closer to my house than the former) but there was something about it being difficult to switch because of zoning or something.  I don't remember why that didn't come through, but one day I was dinking around on the Internet and a light bulb moment hit me.  There was a high school affiliated with our church.  I'd heard about it before but until then hadn't thought to, well, check into it.  Not a month later we had a meeting at L High and the rest is history.  

Actually, the story only begins there.  See despite my desperation to get away from the previous class, I quickly realized that my former school had nevertheless been a comfort zone of sorts.  It was familiar to me.  Sure, I was harassed.  Sure I was the fat stinky misfit.  But I at least knew the place.  This new school wasn't much different at first.  Well, I didn't have the bullying problem anymore so that in and of itself was an improvement (and a big reason for going there in the first place).  I was still pudgy but I didn't stink anymore (I ditched that smelly shampoo).  I still felt like a misfit.  Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day, right?  Whatever, I was fairly miserable the first few weeks of high school.  I knew. no. one.  I hid in the bathroom at lunch (true story) to avoid the sitting dilemma (as I recounted previously, in a small school there simply isn't the option of sitting alone).  It's funny, I can remember all of this, but I don't remember exactly what it was that changed because certainly by the end of that first semester, I couldn't have dreamed of being anywhere else.  Okay, maybe Middle Earth, but that's a different story.  (I still hadn't completely kicked my Lord of the Rings obsession at that point).  I know that a monumental change came when I met one of my current best friends.  I was thankful for my friend Lakota earlier on this whole series business.  Well meeting her was instrumental in my transition phase at L High.  That one new friend gave me a whole new outlook at the school.  By Christmas break, I was bringing candy canes to hand out to friends.  Friends!  The most candy canes I had ever given out was maybe five at the absolute most (and that included my teachers).  That year, I think I bought two or three boxes.  The rest from there really is history.  

I played soccer my freshman and sophomore years.  I both loved and hated it.  I joined a teens for life group and stuck with that over the years.  I joined theatre my sophomore year (with a brief stint my freshman year when my three legged dog was a five dollar dog in a play and I was his chaperon at practices) and by time I graduated I was a Thespian and had acted in three plays.  I was in photography club, book club (of course), knit-wits (we knitted, don't judge me), and Harry Potter club (are you really that surprised?).  Most of all, by time I graduated, I had developed close relationships with a number of teachers and peers who I am still in contact with.  

So there it is, my ugly duckling story.  

8 more days to Thanksgiving!  

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 13: My Church

Today I am thankful for my church.  Over the years it's been a very important part of my life.  I've been a member of the Lutheran church since I was baptized when I was 7.  Interesting factoid, not only do my brother and I have the same birthday we also have the same baptism day (is it bad that I don't remember when it is though? I fail).  Anyways, I've essentially grown up with this church.  I have fond memories of Confirmation in 7th and 8th grade.  There was a t-ping incident that I may or may not have been involved in at one of the Confirmation camps... Ahem.  I also participated in mission trips over the years, from Mexico to East St. Louis to various Habitat for Humanity projects.

It's the people at my church that makes it a special place.  We have a pair of amazing pastors, a strong pastoral staff, and truly wonderful laypeople.  We're especially close to our family group, as I talked about on Sunday, but there are so many faces that I love to see on Sundays.  They're the people who were in Confirmation with me or helped lead and support it, the people who went on those mission trips, whether in the U.S. or abroad, they're the people who I went to school with and looked up to over the years.

My church is a place I feel connected to.  I feel like I belong there.  There have been changes over the years, sure, that I haven't always been a fan of.  But overall, it is still a place for God's people.  It's still the place I've known for so long and love so much.

9 Days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 12: Family

I've spent a few of these days with this blog series expressing how thankful I am for various family members and friends.  Today I am thankful for my entire family.  I believe that blood relation isn't the only kind of family.  I have seen the love between adoptive parents and their children.  I have seen and known love between friends that is as strong as that of siblings.  My family means the world to me.

Family is something, I feel, that people so often seem to take for granted.  We can lose sight of what is really important in life as we're engrossed in the day to day craziness that seems to never stop.  People wish upon stars perhaps because of the magic that seems to surround the idea that a star can make a wish come true.  I find the holiday season to be just as magical.  My wish on this holiday season is that people in general would come to really appreciate the love in their lives.  There was no greater thing that God gave His children than to love Him and to love one another.

Today I am thankful for the love of family.  It's more important than having a flashy car or a big house or the latest clothes or a high paying job or any material asset; these things are impermanent, they can come and go as unexpectedly as a thunderstorm.  Love is something that lasts, however.  It is a fundamental part of life.  So go hug a family member or friend!

10 Days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,
RF

Give Thanks Day 11: Family Group

Today I am thankful for a Sunday night family group that I am blessed to be a part of.  For a year now (excluding Summer holiday), a group of families from my church have gathered at the H family's house for dinner and fellowship on Sunday evenings.  It's essentially a big potluck that we have every week.  I think everyone wants to have a sense of belonging somewhere, a comfort zone if you will.  For my mom, brother, and me that's what we have found in this family group.

A little over a year ago, Mr. and Mrs. H invited the three of us to come to their house on Sunday evenings that fall for dinner and to discuss the book "The Hole in Our Gospel" by Richard Stearns.  As I understand, at the time the plan was to see how well the arrangement worked out and the group would go from there as to whether or not to continue meeting.  There were a number of other families invited as well, most of whom I at least recognized but probably hadn't said much more than a hello to before at church.  The Sunday night bible study quickly grew in importance to us.  It became something we looked forward to each Sunday.  We got to know the families in our group better and looked forward to seeing them at church.  Where we are today, the amount of love and support each of us has for one another confirms to me that God truly placed the H family and their plans for this family group in our lives for a reason.  

Mrs. H related to me how they came to asking the three of us in the first place last year.  I hadn't given it much thought as to why they had, only that I was glad of it.  Sometime last Summer, Mr. and Mrs. H's daughter K and I were chatting after church.  K and I knew had known each other over the years from various church and school activities.  My mom and brother were getting ready to go on a week long mission trip and K asked me what my plans were while they were away.  I must have made a comment something to the effect that I would be home by myself, because she asked where my Dad was.  At that point, my Dad hadn't been coming home for a number of months and my parents were in the process of getting a divorce.  This wasn't exactly common knowledge at the time and K related to her mother about the situation.  One thing led to another and as Mr. and Mrs. H were thinking and praying about the family group they hoped to start, they both thought to invite the three of us. 

I truly believe that God knew we were going to have some rough waters ahead.  He knew we would need support and He sent that support to us through the H family and the other families involved in our family group.  I am so very thankful for their presence in our lives.  I love them all dearly. 

11 Days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 10: Chelsea

Today I'm thankful for my cat, Chelsea.  Yes, that's right.  I'm thankful for my cat.  Don't judge me.

She looks so thrilled.

Back in the day, I wanted a kitten like none other.  I read every. single. book I could get my hands on about cats and kittens.  I literally exhausted the library at my elementary school on cat books.  I had to check out ones I'd already read, I ran out of new ones.  So the day or so after I finished kindergarten, my parents loaded me and my brother up in the family van and off we trekked to meet a friend of my mom's.  This friend had a cat, Sneakers, who recently had a litter of kittens.  And yes, they were looking for homes.  We met the lady at a gas station and there she had two female kittens to choose from.  I immediately picked up the first one I could catch.  She had grey paws and was absolutely adorable.  Well, Grey Paws promptly bit/scratched me (it's possible it was just a hiss, but it didn't matter) and down she went.  I chose White Paws instead.  I held her in my lap on the way home.  I had especially picked a baby blanket that had belonged to me and tucked her into it so she would feel safe.  She whined the first week or so at night, so I slept on my floor (I had a loft bed which was kind of a no go for such a tiny kitty).  From the get go, I adored that little thing.  And little she was.  She was so tiny she fit under my dresser (not even two inches at the tallest point) and in the palm of my mom's hands.  She was a. d. o. r. a. b. l. e.

Now Chelsea went through quite a lot growing up with me.  She got bathed at arbitrary intervals.  She was periodically (okay quite often) subjected to wearing doll clothes.  I tried to walk her once in my neighborhood on a leash (needless to say that didn't go over so well).  It's no wonder that she's a crazy cat.  She once knocked over a miniature doll house; the roof fell clean off.  It's still in my basement.  

Elephant in the room moment: all this talk of dolls and dolls dresses and doll houses makes me sound like an incredibly girly individual.  Let me dispel these nasty rumors by emphasizing that it was a phase. A very dark time in my life, if you please.  Very sensitive.  

Ahem.  So in short, I've grown up with this cat.  I love her to death.  She's been given a number of nicknames from my friends over the years, most of them to the tune of "demon cat."  In her defense, Chelsea is a cranky old coot who is very set in her ways.  And in the people she likes.  Which most of the time is just Tapeworm.  Though every now and then she'll pretend she likes me too.  I suspect my big comfy bed has something to do with it though.  

What's not to love?

12 more days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 9: Karate

Today I am thankful for the karate school I attend.  I walk out of there on regular basis sweaty, stinky, and just plain not fun to look at.  It's great.

For security reasons, I'm not naming any names, but part of what makes this particular karate school so wonderful is the amazing people.  Seriously, these people are awesome.  I love them.  I love the feeling of being a "family."  In a way, we are.  I love spending time with the other students and the instructors.  There is a wide range in our ages, ability levels, and interests, but we all have karate in common.  We also respect immensely our Sensei.  I honestly can't think of a person who I have more respect for, and I feel fairly confident that I'm not alone in this.

I know I haven't even begun to understand karate.  I know I have tons of work to do.  I know that there's always something to do better, always something to learn.  In a way, I love that open book concept.  You never stop learning in life, and karate is the same way.  I can't imagine my life without it.  I've had concerns as I consider what lies ahead of me after I graduate from college.  Most of my extended family lives in the Northeastern part of the country.  I do believe my mother and brother also intend to migrate that way at some point in the near future.  I don't know where I'm going to be in five years, but I sincerely hope that I can keep training at this school.  I know of a family who recently moved away from the area and they've had a really difficult time finding a new karate school.  This one is truly one of a kind.  It's the people, especially our Sensei, who makes it that way. 

13 Days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 8: Our Veterans

Today I'm thankful for our Veterans.  I can't describe the amount of pride I feel when I see an American flag waving.  Whether it's flying over a bank or my angel Grandpa's house or draped over the coffin of a fallen hero, the stars and stripes evoke in me a deep sense of love and respect.  


From  a very young age I recall being very patriotic.  I've always felt an immense sense of pride for my country.  I believe having both parents serve in the Navy, as well as the history my extended family has with the military, influenced this passion.  


Of all the things about this country that I'm proud of, I'm most proud of our Veterans.  I can't pretend to imagine the sacrifice our veterans have given throughout the years.  The living and the fallen heroes know this sacrifice.  

I created this for a media project for Veteran's Day 2008

Abraham Lincoln had an amazing way of capturing the spirit of this country.  His Gettysburg Address applies to many things, but his dedication to the living and fallen heroes has always been particularly powerful for me.  

"Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth." -Abraham Lincoln

God Bless our Veterans.  

14 Days to Thanksgiving!

Signed

RF

Give Thanks Day 7: My Uncle

Today I'm thankful for my Uncle T.

We don't get to see him very often (as he lives in New York), but the times we get to visit I wouldn't trade for the world.  In short, he's a total goofball.  Which is probably why Tapeworm and I get along with him so well!

Recently, he flew Tapeworm and I up to NY for a visit.  We went to festivals and a hayride.  We even saw a historic haunted house.  It was a blast.  The leaves this time of year in upstate New York are gorgeous.  They're especially enjoyable when driving around town in a Dodge Challenger!  I might add that when I was out over the summer, he lent me the Challenger to drive the three hours or so out to visit my Mom's parents.  That's right, I got the Challenger for the day.  My life is complete.

Isn't it beautiful?  Ahem.  

Uncle T has worked hard to keep my Grandpa E's house that he inherited.  I'm so grateful for the commitment he has for the family fort, the old blue house.  

My Uncle is someone who truly cares about his family.  He knows what's important in life.  We don't have a huge family, but each member is so special in their own way; my Uncle is no exception to this.  I'm so thankful for having him in my life.

The week of this Thanksgiving also coincides with Tapeworm's Eagle Court of Honor ceremony.  Uncle T plans on visiting for the week to celebrate both occasions.  Like I said, we don't see one another very often, but the times we do we cherish.  Let the festivities begin!

15 Days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 6: My Grandpa E

Today I'm thankful for my angel Grandpa E.  I love him and miss him dearly.  I look up to him and am so proud to call him my Grandpa.  

It's been a little over four months since my Grandpa left us.  He'd been sick off and on over the past couple of years, yes, but I never expected my phone conversation with him the Wednesday of the week we were due to drive up to celebrate his 76th birthday and the 4th of July to be my last.  I wish I could remember every detail of that phone call.  I do recall that I wished him a happy birthday and he laughed his deep, rattling laugh that started somewhere in his stomach.  We talked about how I was sure that I wanted to join the Navy after I finish my Bachelor's degree.  He sounded happy.  I also told him that I was thinking about getting a motorcycle.  That prompted another deep laugh.  We bid goodbye, I told him I love him and he said, "you too, kiddo."  

We got a phone call about eight hours into our drive to New York that weekend.  I was driving.  My mom was in the backseat with my brother.  I had a feeling that something was wrong; I turned down my music and watched my mom's expression turn into shock in the rear view mirror.  All she told me was to get off at the next exit.  She waited until we were parked in the back of a Burger King parking lot to tell us that Grandpa had died sometime the previous night in his sleep.  In a word, we were devastated.  The remainder of the drive was nothing short of misery.  We cried a lot.  We switched drivers often, to accommodate for the vision problems associated with the crying.  

My Grandpa left us too soon.  We had plans to go on a family trip to Ireland, to visit where his family came from.  He was looking forward to coming to see us this fall when my brother got his Eagle Award.  My brother's high school graduation is coming up, and my college graduation shortly thereafter.  I wanted him present for my commissioning into the Navy.  

This Christmas is going to be a difficult one.  There's a big hole in our family.  In a way, despite the sadness, I'm still thankful.  I'm thankful that we all have such fond memories of my Grandpa, that he left us with such a hole because that shows how amazing of a person he was.  I'll always remember him and his deep, infectious laugh.  I know he'll be watching at my brother's Eagle Ceremony and his graduation.  I know he'll be watching when I graduate from college and get commissioned into the Navy.  I know he's with all of us, and we'll see him again someday.  

In my Grandpa's words, let's put eggs in our shoes and beat it!

16 Days to Thanksgiving.

Signed,

RF

Give Thanks Day 5: My Brother

Today I am thankful for my goofball brother.  He's a great kid (er, soon to be adult) and I'm so proud of him.

Most children on their third birthday get toys or maybe clothes.  I'm sure I got those things as well, but I also got a little brother.  This is a concept that is remarkably difficult to explain to other people.  Some don't seem to understand that yes we have the same birthday, but no we're not twins, yes that is possible, no we're not lying so we can both get free ice cream.  Sheesh.

Growing up, I didn't know too many sibling pairs that got a long too well (some I knew of absolutely loathed each other)  but for some reason after Tapeworm and I got past elementary school (those were dark days, I tell you) we actually enjoyed spending time with each other.  Maybe it was the together-ness of our childhood that made us so close.  In addition to having the same birthday and thus combined family parties (can you blame them?), we spent a lot of time (I emphasize a lot) on the road back and forth to that old blue house in New York.  Perhaps it was forced company, or that our parents would have probably dropped us off at a rest stop and left us there if they had to deal with bickering kids for fourteen hours, either way we've grown up fairly close.

It's only been in the past few years that I've realized just how much I appreciate the relationship I have with my brother, he's one of my best friends.  I love our random conversations and just hanging out together.  I also love our shenanigans.  Recently we were walking out of Target and decided to skip to the car (is that really that surprising?) so we did.  And people were staring at us.  And laughing.  I think I commented something to that effect that people were laughing at us.  Without missing a beat, both of us said, "It wouldn't be the first time."  Yeah, brain twins.

Tapeworm and I also have a lot of interests in common, which might account for the sibling bond thing.  I've never been the super girly type, at least not since I was really little and Tapeworm used my barbies as guns (don't ask).  Anywho, we're both fans of being outdoors.  Camping, biking, you name it.  We have a healthy interest in classic cars (if one is spotted on the road, it effectively halts any conversation we're in for the purposes of drooling), guns, and anything that involves explosives (*pyromaniac gleam*).  Also, if you know either of us, you probably know that karate is slightly important to us.  And when I say slightly, I mean it's like number three after sleeping and eating.  Yeah, it basically rocks.  We get quite the *kick* out of practicing on each other whether it's in class or at home (do you get my joke? kick? ha? yeah I fail).

I said Tapeworm is a great kid before, and I wasn't lying.  I'm really proud of him.  It's been cool to see him grow from being a goofy little kid to being a remarkably responsible young man (okay he's still a goofball, but that's not such a bad thing).  He earned his Eagle Scout rank this year in Boy Scouts, which is Boy Scout lingo for the highest honor you can get in the scouting world.  He was awarded the Eagle mentor pin at another boy from his troop's Eagle ceremony recently.  Wait, my crazy brother a role model?  While that might strike a note of concern, I know he's earned it.  He's a great person and he's going places.

So whether we're just chilling and watching Chronicles of Riddick, beating on each other, or preparing for the Zombie apocalypse (it's coming), I know my bro and me got each other's backs.  I couldn't have asked for a better little brother.  Love ya, man.

Oh ho, 17 Days to Thanksgiving!

Signed,
RF