Talking About . . .


My friend Ann sent this on to me. Makes one think.


THE 4TH OF JULY

Have you ever wondered what happened to the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence?

• Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died.
• Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned.
• Two lost their sons serving in the Revolutionary Army;
• Another had two sons captured.
• Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the Revolutionary War.

They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.
What kind of men were they?

• Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists.
• Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners; men of means, well educated, but they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured.

• Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.

• Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward.

• Vandals or soldiers looted the properties of Dillery, Hall, Clymer, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton.

• At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson, Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. He quietly urged General George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt.

• Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed. The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months.

• John Hart was driven from his wife's bedside as she was dying. Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished.

Some of us take these liberties so much for granted, but we shouldn't.

So, take a few minutes while enjoying your 4th of July holiday and silently thank these patriots. It's not much to ask for the price they paid.

Remember: freedom is never free!

It's time we get the word out that patriotism is NOT a sin, and the Fourth of July has more to it than beer, picnics, and baseball games.



Hope you had a thoughtful and pleasant holiday!



Quote:
When you cease to make a contribution, you die. --Eleanor Roosevelt

Blessings

Freedom Thoughts

Fourth of July is almost here. I thought about that and how much I enjoy the day. Then I thought what does freedom mean to me?

Here's some thoughts:

Sacrifices:

• Our ancestors who fought and argued and stood and bore with "big deals" to gain what they considered freedom. I profit from that vision.
• The boys and girls (men and women!!!) who go now to service to fight for what we have here in America. Many of them suffer: death, injuries--some they never recover from both mentally and physically.
  

Memories:

• Of the past Independence Day celebrations, with family and friends and people I love.
• Knowing that year after year others I don't see often or can't see on that day are enjoying their day the same as I can and do.

Freedoms:
I enjoy so much:

• the right to be with people or be by myself. To have friends or be a hermit
  
• the right to take up the profession I want to do, whether grave digger or NY stock investor
  
• the right to worship God as I want. Or not.
  
• the right to say what I want, within reason. Something that makes sense, or total nonsense.
  
• the right to think and be and do. Or live like an idiot, too.
  
• the right to drive a vehicle, fly a plane, walk, bicycle, ride a horse.

The right to be thankful or carry a chip on my shoulder.
The right to vote for who I think is the right candidate. And the right to say so.
The right to smile or drag my nose on the ground. Who cares?

This July 4th I give thanks for both the small and big pleasures in my life:

• family, aggravating, refuse-to-listen-to-my-reason family, ugly, fat, skinny, beautiful family members. They're MINE!
  
• awesome fireworks that light the sky and that tell the world "we're free."
• Songs that give me peace and melancholy and happiness and thought.
• Summer food like burgers and hotdogs and marshmallows and fresh corn and new potatoes and strawberries
• A place I can call home.
• A car that takes us where we want to go
  
• a hubby who gives and cares and loves

Have a safe and glorious one!




Quote:
The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones. --Chinese proverb


Blessings

Scared . . . Do-less

I read a fellow-writer's comment the other day about her beginnings as a prospective author. She'd sent out to a few publishers her manuscript (our babies!) and gotten rejected.

Now Kim is a gentle soul; writes gentle stories and the rejection hurt--big time. She decided she would write, but never subject herself to rejection again.

I can sympathize because I hate rejection, too. I hate being exposed to criticism. I hate people reading my "stuff" and not getting it. After all, what's wrong with them? Others like it, praise it, want to see it printed. Don't they know what they're doing? Are they all brain-dead?

Maybe, maybe not.

But Kim had a dad who pushed her. He helped her to get self-pubbed at the first, then pushed her on and on to other goals. And now? Well, you might have read some of Kim V Sawyer's gentle Amish stories. They're on bestseller lists.

What have I had?
Confirmation.
Belief.
Encouragement.
Criticism.
Brainstorming sessions with qualified partners.
Critiques from published authors.
An agent -- God sent -- who believes in my writing.
Editors who request!
A deep-seated desire that won't go away, that keeps pushing me, keeps me believing, keeps me hoping, keeps me plotting and writing, sweating and working. Something that pushes me past the hurt and rejection and discouragement and endless waiting.

Cause, you know, some day --soon-- it's going to happen.

Someday--soon.

And what does the title of this blog mean? Sometimes you quit, you're in the land of "do-less." You've quit. You turn your back on it all. But . . .

You don't build a house and stay. You just camp out, rent a room, and then you move on. You're too restless. There's tons more ideas out there waiting on your brain power and finger movement to get it down. To write another book.

"Do-less" is a state we all find ourselves now and then. A state that we visit now and again. It's just not a permanent one.

Thank God.




Quote:
Behold the turtle who only makes progress when he sticks his neck out. -- Cecil Parker



Blessings

Wedding Bell Blues


Not because I'm the bride.
Or that I'm walking down the aisle.
Nope. I had to play the piano for hubby's niece's wedding Saturday.
And does that make me nervous.
Okay, I know I do . . . well, okay. (grin)
But that doesn't mean I like playing.

Started out with the phone message to please call her.
I did and she asked me.
I chose the songs, since she left the music up to me.
They included:
The Bridal Chorus (of course)
Love Story
You Needed Me
Savior, Like a Shepherd
Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring
A Time for Us
Whither Thou Goest
He Leadeth Me
Each for the Other
O Promise Me
Hand in Hand
W've Only Just Begun
The Rose
O Perfect Love
The Wedding March

Afterwards, everyone who talked to me commented on the "great" job I did.

Well and good.

Since most of them don't know one note from another, I suppose I'd better not get the big head.
And I'm definitely not taking out any ads in the papers or other media means for wedding music.

Got through that one.
Not sure I'd make it through another.

Now, maybe I can sing something else besides the blues (you know, moaning and groaning to any in ear distance.

Happy days are here again!



Quote:
Flattery is like perfume: it is to be smelled and not swallowed.

Blessings