Parenting is a tag team event. To the single parents who manage this on their own, my hat is off to you. On any given day, I tag team it with my dear husband. Steve and I had the pleasure of playing "one-on-one" for just shy of two years. Our daughter was watched, washed, followed, cossetted, read to and basically smothered. We never had the chance to try the one kid per adult route. The twins exploded into our world with our surprise, Conner, swiftly following them.
Steve and I joke that we are really good about playing "zone". Any given day of the week, we exchange conversations saturated with planning.
Since Steve leaves the house at 4:30 am, our planning takes place over phones, via text and the occasional facebook post. We sneak in the "I love you" and "how's your day going" as we can.
Steve: Morning, Hunny. What's on your agenda today?
Me: laundry, laundry, after school program and home. How's your day?
Steve: good, work and then a remote. I love you Is there soccer tomorrow?
Me: yes. Soccer at 5 and 5:30. Baseball is day after.
Steve: Need me to start up dinner while you're out?
Julie: I love you.
Now, there are times I might be out at practice with a pouty kid and I pull out the big guns. I use my phone (God bless cell phones) and place the dreaded call to Daddy. At work.
Steve: Son, why did Mommy have to call?
Unnamed child:mumble mumble
Steve: Speak up, if your mother had to stop practice and call me AT WORK, it must have been something...
And then the contrite child will knuckle under and proceed to have a much better attitude with practice, or a game, or homework or chores. I roust through the daily sludge, while Steve tends to be the "clean up" guy. I will be dragging in from soccer, putting away shin guards and cleats, hauling water bottles and thoroughly grumpy, hot and sweaty. Steve has dinner going and a plan to get the kids through homework, showers and bed time.
The times where Steve is out of town, those are the absolute worst. I break so many of my own rules in the name of survival. I admit, times have gotten easier. I don't have diapers, I don't have feedings and sippy cups. I can let them shower by themselves and they honestly do step up and help.
Yet, on any given day, they will all unconsciously know, there is a weakening of the system. They will know at some higher level when the schedule is off kilter, when the gears aren't quite in line...and that is when there is a melt down.
And when I utter those dreadful words:
Want me to call your father? At work?
And how was your day?
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The Indomitable Spirit of Coyotes
First off, even though it is spelled "coyotes", the team is pronounced Kai-oats. They are very serious about this. One is the pestilence of the High Plains, and one is the sports teams of Dora Schools.
Alas, I yet to have an athlete in the JV or varsity level. I don't even have a student in the junior high. What I do have, is the making of some awesome future Coyotes.
Around here, the city league of basketball, allows the smaller, rural schools to keep their budding athletes together on a "school" team. There are Dora Coyotes in every age bracket of Little Dribbler basketball. There are Floyd Broncos and Elida Tigers as well.
It just so happens that the 1st and 2nd grade boys of the Dora Coyotes legacy are going to be the future state champs in about 9 to 10 years.
This year the boys have played hard and won all but one of our city league games. We did suffer a last minute defeat to the Elida Tigers (can you say school nemesis?) and that left a bitter taste in their little mouths.
This past weekend, they recovered their glory. Shrouded in sweat and the ever present funk of little boy, they went forth and conquered the Melrose Little Buffs basketball tournament.
I have the bleacher butt to prove it.
Our own little champ, Conner (aka Big Mac) was up early that fine Saturday as we prepared for our day. Melrose is past Floyd and a solid 40 minutes from our house. It is even farther for some of the other players who live south of Dora. (I am quite serious and at this time I invite you to go HERE and check it out) We knew going into this that it would be an all day event. Like ant good tiny town in New Mexico, it features a road, homes, an amazing small school, a post office, fire department, cemetery and maybe a gas station. No fast food, no movies, no nothing. We knew we would need to pack snacks and drinks. We are also now well enough versed to know that "Basketball Tournament" means fund raiser with admission charge and ......CONCESSION STAND! Bazinga!
I packed left over pizza, juice boxes, soda, oranges, PB cracker packs, girl scout cookies (my current addiction, thanks, girls), cheese sticks and cupcakes. I also packed yarn and crochet hooks (I am a veteran of the local ability to keep to a schedule), a gameboy, dsi, my Kindle and paper towels. I am also a rabid bleacher creature. My child might be only seven, but by all that's holy I am going to cheer like it was Kobe out there. I packed two pompoms and a set of boom whackers. Oh yeah. I got game.
Naturally, there was freezing fog and seriously cold temperatures. For all that think that New Mexico is basking in some desert of warmth, grow up. At over 4000 feet, they don't refer to us as the High Plains for nothing. We may be flat, but we have altitude. Cold means in the 20s or under. Added to that is the ever present wind, which I normally fully curse about, but not in this post.
To add to our complicated day, Caitlyn had her basketball game in Portales at one. So we had to take two cars, knowing one of us would stay on Melrose and the other would cart Caitlyn and one other child to a whole new set of bleacher backache hell.
We arrived in Melrose in good time, having passed such exciting things as a llama, a herd of young horses and a partial hill. I kid you not, we get excited for any type of landscape. I have driven through Melrose on any number of occasions but have never been to the school. Steve employed his trusty GPS which promptly took us into the heart of the residential area (four blocks) and declared us arrived. We then asked the really nice gentleman walking his dog.
Of course, by this time, Caitlyn had pointed out the school was the other way, by the water tower, because she watched a line of cars go directly there.
Smiling in what we hoped was a reassuring manner, to make sure dog walker didn't think we were some new breed of rural terrorist, depositing sugar hyped children along the by ways of America, we came to the school.
Another fine rural school tradition is, when you build something new, don't remove the old! So, like most schools here, there is an old gym and a new gym. They have great names, like Roger's Gym, and Luscombe Gym, but are always referred to as the New Gym and the Old Gym. In Dora, the old gym has a history of being carried overland from another town on horse drawn sledges. On a bet. I am pretty sure alcohol was involved in some way.
We pull up to the new gym at Melrose and find a new bracket and schedule. We are now playing ten minutes later in the old gym. At this point, it is now snowing with a cold bitter wind. We hoof it across the way and find another game already in progress. I saw my day spool out ahead of me. Hurry up and wait because these games will NEVER run on schedule.
Finally the first game is done and my little guys hit the floor. We climb to the very top of the bleachers. We have learned that the best place to survive and extended bleacher sitting, is at the top, where you can rest your back against the wall. The game starts and William immediately requests the use of the boom whackers. Not familiar with boom whackers? Imagine two inflatable handheld tubes that when hit together make a large and unsettling noise. In true William fashion, he dropped them through the stands before the second quarter.
Caitlyn then had to descend into the underbelly of the gym bleacher to collect the boom whackers. We then proceeded to cheer on our players to decisive first win. I kind of laughed ten minutes later because someone else dropped a phone under the stands and sent a grandchild to fetch it.
With a first win, we were scheduled for a short break before playing again in the new gym. We re-wrapped ourselves, bent our heads against the wind and stumbled through the weather back to the new gym. The kids announced their undying hunger, even though it had only been two hours since their last feed.
We sat in the concession area and I winced when someone announced too loudly that hot dogs would be served shortly, trucked in from the Clovis Wienerschnitzle. The kids immediately began asking me for hot dogs, and when was lunch, and can we eat here (as if we had anywhere else to go) and could we get a soda and some candy now?
Holy cow. It was obvious to me that this was going to be a long day. I laid down some semi firm laws that the kids took to heart, their little minds already at work on loop holes and passes that would shame and prize litigator.
The next game was against the Elida Tigers. The boys were tense. Elida had beaten them. The only team in league play to make them sweat and work. They were worried. Amanda (another mom) and I leaned over the tunnel rail and cheered our boys to the court. We then took our gear and settled in fine seats in the new gym. It was posh, with fold down stadium seats and great views from every spot.
The game started and the boys were pushed. The worked and passed. The ball flew back and forth with multiple turnovers and shots. The score was up, the score was down and then the final 15 to 11...DORA WINS! The boys went crazy, and the parents weren't any better! We whooped it up in a completely undignified manner.
We gathered our bags and jackets and went back out into the concession area. Steve drew the short straw and took Cailtyn to her game and took William with him. I was left with Big Mac and James. The front concession area of the gym, like most, was unfortunately located near the doors. Cold wind would waft in and chill us. We scarfed our pizza and I succumbed to the guiltly nagging that had me buying some of the most coveted hot dogs. This was by far our longest wait and suddenly I was sitting at a table with one kindle and about seven little boys. My phone was now running angry birds and was surrounded by sweaty, sticky boy hands.
Ten dollars worth of hot dogs, candy and gatorade we had yet another game. This team fell to our amazing basketball prowess. We had game and I was rapidly getting a sore throat from my cheering. Younger siblings were getting cranky, James was bored and despite the proper seats, my hinney was really beginning to ache.
The final game was approaching, We would be playing the Melrose team, itself. They had been knocked to the loser's bracket and had won all the games, since. The coyotes were over confident and somewhat tired by this point. The game was supposed to be at 2:20 but was running closer to 2:45. The game started with a noticeable change in attitude in the refs. Fouls slipped by, calls weren't made that should and all of that lit the fire in myself and Amanda. We started calling out as well as cheering. The boys brought their game and then left it, intimidated by the aggressiveness of the other team. They became angry and their passing wilted and failed. This wasn't our boys! This wasn't the boys that had their last game mercy ruled at 27 to 6!!
I was getting text updates from Steve about Caitlyn's game. She was playing well and her team was winning. I was ready to chew my nails. Amanda and I yelled at the refs again. I am by no way a basketball pro, but even I know that a choke hold is a foul!
The score was 8 to 4, Melrose. The parents took turns cheering, yelling and texting non present family the updates. The boys settled into a better pattern and began using teamwork. They were tired and sweating. They were determined. Their sweet young faces shown with concentration.
Another bad call and one of our top players took a foul that sent him crashing to the floor with his head hitting the hardwood. The Coyotes, as trained, immediately took a knee. The parents took to their feet, yelling threats at the refs, the other teamed milled on the court until our young man was up and taken to the bench.
Another set of bad calls (since when do you run the clock during free throws?) and the score was 11 to 10, Dora. The boys began to get very, very serious. Our injured player came back on the court with revenge in his eyes.
The clock ticked down with the crowd chanting it out. Final score 10 to 17....DORA WINS! Undefeated champions of the Melrose Little Buff's 1 and 2 grade Basketball Tournament! They proudly accepted their medals, gave their team chant and glowed for pictures. They were sweaty and smelling and all were sporting red faces and bruised knees. But they were Champions!
The parents packed up their gear, sleepy kids and hoisted their weary fannies to the parking lot.
The very proud Coyotes returned to their homes victorious.
And on a side note, Conner wore his medal to church and all day Sunday....
And how was your day?
Alas, I yet to have an athlete in the JV or varsity level. I don't even have a student in the junior high. What I do have, is the making of some awesome future Coyotes.
Around here, the city league of basketball, allows the smaller, rural schools to keep their budding athletes together on a "school" team. There are Dora Coyotes in every age bracket of Little Dribbler basketball. There are Floyd Broncos and Elida Tigers as well.
It just so happens that the 1st and 2nd grade boys of the Dora Coyotes legacy are going to be the future state champs in about 9 to 10 years.
This year the boys have played hard and won all but one of our city league games. We did suffer a last minute defeat to the Elida Tigers (can you say school nemesis?) and that left a bitter taste in their little mouths.
This past weekend, they recovered their glory. Shrouded in sweat and the ever present funk of little boy, they went forth and conquered the Melrose Little Buffs basketball tournament.
I have the bleacher butt to prove it.
Our own little champ, Conner (aka Big Mac) was up early that fine Saturday as we prepared for our day. Melrose is past Floyd and a solid 40 minutes from our house. It is even farther for some of the other players who live south of Dora. (I am quite serious and at this time I invite you to go HERE and check it out) We knew going into this that it would be an all day event. Like ant good tiny town in New Mexico, it features a road, homes, an amazing small school, a post office, fire department, cemetery and maybe a gas station. No fast food, no movies, no nothing. We knew we would need to pack snacks and drinks. We are also now well enough versed to know that "Basketball Tournament" means fund raiser with admission charge and ......CONCESSION STAND! Bazinga!
I packed left over pizza, juice boxes, soda, oranges, PB cracker packs, girl scout cookies (my current addiction, thanks, girls), cheese sticks and cupcakes. I also packed yarn and crochet hooks (I am a veteran of the local ability to keep to a schedule), a gameboy, dsi, my Kindle and paper towels. I am also a rabid bleacher creature. My child might be only seven, but by all that's holy I am going to cheer like it was Kobe out there. I packed two pompoms and a set of boom whackers. Oh yeah. I got game.
Naturally, there was freezing fog and seriously cold temperatures. For all that think that New Mexico is basking in some desert of warmth, grow up. At over 4000 feet, they don't refer to us as the High Plains for nothing. We may be flat, but we have altitude. Cold means in the 20s or under. Added to that is the ever present wind, which I normally fully curse about, but not in this post.
To add to our complicated day, Caitlyn had her basketball game in Portales at one. So we had to take two cars, knowing one of us would stay on Melrose and the other would cart Caitlyn and one other child to a whole new set of bleacher backache hell.
We arrived in Melrose in good time, having passed such exciting things as a llama, a herd of young horses and a partial hill. I kid you not, we get excited for any type of landscape. I have driven through Melrose on any number of occasions but have never been to the school. Steve employed his trusty GPS which promptly took us into the heart of the residential area (four blocks) and declared us arrived. We then asked the really nice gentleman walking his dog.
Of course, by this time, Caitlyn had pointed out the school was the other way, by the water tower, because she watched a line of cars go directly there.
Smiling in what we hoped was a reassuring manner, to make sure dog walker didn't think we were some new breed of rural terrorist, depositing sugar hyped children along the by ways of America, we came to the school.
Another fine rural school tradition is, when you build something new, don't remove the old! So, like most schools here, there is an old gym and a new gym. They have great names, like Roger's Gym, and Luscombe Gym, but are always referred to as the New Gym and the Old Gym. In Dora, the old gym has a history of being carried overland from another town on horse drawn sledges. On a bet. I am pretty sure alcohol was involved in some way.
We pull up to the new gym at Melrose and find a new bracket and schedule. We are now playing ten minutes later in the old gym. At this point, it is now snowing with a cold bitter wind. We hoof it across the way and find another game already in progress. I saw my day spool out ahead of me. Hurry up and wait because these games will NEVER run on schedule.
Finally the first game is done and my little guys hit the floor. We climb to the very top of the bleachers. We have learned that the best place to survive and extended bleacher sitting, is at the top, where you can rest your back against the wall. The game starts and William immediately requests the use of the boom whackers. Not familiar with boom whackers? Imagine two inflatable handheld tubes that when hit together make a large and unsettling noise. In true William fashion, he dropped them through the stands before the second quarter.
Caitlyn then had to descend into the underbelly of the gym bleacher to collect the boom whackers. We then proceeded to cheer on our players to decisive first win. I kind of laughed ten minutes later because someone else dropped a phone under the stands and sent a grandchild to fetch it.
With a first win, we were scheduled for a short break before playing again in the new gym. We re-wrapped ourselves, bent our heads against the wind and stumbled through the weather back to the new gym. The kids announced their undying hunger, even though it had only been two hours since their last feed.
We sat in the concession area and I winced when someone announced too loudly that hot dogs would be served shortly, trucked in from the Clovis Wienerschnitzle. The kids immediately began asking me for hot dogs, and when was lunch, and can we eat here (as if we had anywhere else to go) and could we get a soda and some candy now?
Holy cow. It was obvious to me that this was going to be a long day. I laid down some semi firm laws that the kids took to heart, their little minds already at work on loop holes and passes that would shame and prize litigator.
The next game was against the Elida Tigers. The boys were tense. Elida had beaten them. The only team in league play to make them sweat and work. They were worried. Amanda (another mom) and I leaned over the tunnel rail and cheered our boys to the court. We then took our gear and settled in fine seats in the new gym. It was posh, with fold down stadium seats and great views from every spot.
The game started and the boys were pushed. The worked and passed. The ball flew back and forth with multiple turnovers and shots. The score was up, the score was down and then the final 15 to 11...DORA WINS! The boys went crazy, and the parents weren't any better! We whooped it up in a completely undignified manner.
We gathered our bags and jackets and went back out into the concession area. Steve drew the short straw and took Cailtyn to her game and took William with him. I was left with Big Mac and James. The front concession area of the gym, like most, was unfortunately located near the doors. Cold wind would waft in and chill us. We scarfed our pizza and I succumbed to the guiltly nagging that had me buying some of the most coveted hot dogs. This was by far our longest wait and suddenly I was sitting at a table with one kindle and about seven little boys. My phone was now running angry birds and was surrounded by sweaty, sticky boy hands.
Ten dollars worth of hot dogs, candy and gatorade we had yet another game. This team fell to our amazing basketball prowess. We had game and I was rapidly getting a sore throat from my cheering. Younger siblings were getting cranky, James was bored and despite the proper seats, my hinney was really beginning to ache.
The final game was approaching, We would be playing the Melrose team, itself. They had been knocked to the loser's bracket and had won all the games, since. The coyotes were over confident and somewhat tired by this point. The game was supposed to be at 2:20 but was running closer to 2:45. The game started with a noticeable change in attitude in the refs. Fouls slipped by, calls weren't made that should and all of that lit the fire in myself and Amanda. We started calling out as well as cheering. The boys brought their game and then left it, intimidated by the aggressiveness of the other team. They became angry and their passing wilted and failed. This wasn't our boys! This wasn't the boys that had their last game mercy ruled at 27 to 6!!
I was getting text updates from Steve about Caitlyn's game. She was playing well and her team was winning. I was ready to chew my nails. Amanda and I yelled at the refs again. I am by no way a basketball pro, but even I know that a choke hold is a foul!
The score was 8 to 4, Melrose. The parents took turns cheering, yelling and texting non present family the updates. The boys settled into a better pattern and began using teamwork. They were tired and sweating. They were determined. Their sweet young faces shown with concentration.
Another bad call and one of our top players took a foul that sent him crashing to the floor with his head hitting the hardwood. The Coyotes, as trained, immediately took a knee. The parents took to their feet, yelling threats at the refs, the other teamed milled on the court until our young man was up and taken to the bench.
Another set of bad calls (since when do you run the clock during free throws?) and the score was 11 to 10, Dora. The boys began to get very, very serious. Our injured player came back on the court with revenge in his eyes.
The clock ticked down with the crowd chanting it out. Final score 10 to 17....DORA WINS! Undefeated champions of the Melrose Little Buff's 1 and 2 grade Basketball Tournament! They proudly accepted their medals, gave their team chant and glowed for pictures. They were sweaty and smelling and all were sporting red faces and bruised knees. But they were Champions!
The parents packed up their gear, sleepy kids and hoisted their weary fannies to the parking lot.
The very proud Coyotes returned to their homes victorious.
And on a side note, Conner wore his medal to church and all day Sunday....
And how was your day?
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Fish Bowl Wisdom
In the company of Bears, ignore behavior is successful. Bears, being honorable creatures, are wise to know when it is far better to walk and ignore negative situations. When in the company of Weasels, there is no such luck.
When the mocking bird sings and steps in for a closer look, build your nest in such a way as to keep your privacy.
Know when to respect your instincts and know when to realize it might just be a skunk and not a true predator.
Always move slowly to catch a dragon, fast movements startle them.
Chickens are often slow, comical creatures, but can double in size at the nest.
A horse often doesn't like an audience and will, in fact, display more bad manners when feeling that he is being watched.
Conversely, some horses love an audience and will lay on the charm when she is watched.
Some dogs never learn new tricks, having failed at the old ones.
The dinner you didn't want to eat last night will most likely turn up in your lunch box.
Sometimes rose colored glasses are simply a mirror to what already exists.
Grasshoppers always want a share of the garden that they didn't work towards.
Grasshoppers love to watch the gardener tend the crop, waiting until it is at its peak to strike.
Sometimes more than just cats like to rest in a sunny spot and soak up the sun, and nothing more.
Nails in your driveway are not a joking matter.
And how was your day?
When the mocking bird sings and steps in for a closer look, build your nest in such a way as to keep your privacy.
Know when to respect your instincts and know when to realize it might just be a skunk and not a true predator.
Always move slowly to catch a dragon, fast movements startle them.
Chickens are often slow, comical creatures, but can double in size at the nest.
A horse often doesn't like an audience and will, in fact, display more bad manners when feeling that he is being watched.
Conversely, some horses love an audience and will lay on the charm when she is watched.
Some dogs never learn new tricks, having failed at the old ones.
The dinner you didn't want to eat last night will most likely turn up in your lunch box.
Sometimes rose colored glasses are simply a mirror to what already exists.
Grasshoppers always want a share of the garden that they didn't work towards.
Grasshoppers love to watch the gardener tend the crop, waiting until it is at its peak to strike.
Sometimes more than just cats like to rest in a sunny spot and soak up the sun, and nothing more.
Nails in your driveway are not a joking matter.
And how was your day?
Friday, December 16, 2011
Thank you, Mom
The twins celebrated a birthday. Mom (other wise known as Oh-my) thought air powered rockets were a fantastic idea. One for each. Can't leave one unarmed. At first, it was going just great. The boys would run around outside, stomp their hardest on the rocket launcher, and with a mighty POP it would jet for the sky.
Then it got cold. Boys were unwilling to spend much time outside. Which means inside became a war zone. Cereal and popcorn were found in places they were never meant to travel. Shoes, socks (did I mention it was cold?) were strewn about with careless abandon.
Then I hear it. POP. Seriously? In the house?
Wasn't it going to crash into the ceiling?
No, not if you are targeting a brother. With one brother aiming the device, and another applying the pressure to launch the foam target, they were busting through the house, waging war on all they encountered.
This included dogs, brothers, furniture and moms. As I write this, there is a mighty POP and I feel the rocket hit me in the tush. Gales of laughter. A fight over launching rights. POP. That one hit me in the back at close range. That'll leave a mark. I turn and grab my camera to capture evidence.
That is my camera getting hit. Nice. I decided to switch to video.
As you can see, the toy is being used in a manner wholly inappropriate with the instructions and designs. You can also see that the dogs are totally un-phased by the activity, or being in the line of fire. When I later called for help, I was put on hold:
Nap time being so very, very important. Every since the kids took over feeding them, and they now sleep in the girl's room, they no longer feel the need to defend me against the children. They know where their bread's buttered.
So feeling much abused, ignored and battered, I called a cease fire in the only way I know how: WHO WANTS LUNCH?
And how was your day?
Then it got cold. Boys were unwilling to spend much time outside. Which means inside became a war zone. Cereal and popcorn were found in places they were never meant to travel. Shoes, socks (did I mention it was cold?) were strewn about with careless abandon.
Then I hear it. POP. Seriously? In the house?
Wasn't it going to crash into the ceiling?
This included dogs, brothers, furniture and moms. As I write this, there is a mighty POP and I feel the rocket hit me in the tush. Gales of laughter. A fight over launching rights. POP. That one hit me in the back at close range. That'll leave a mark. I turn and grab my camera to capture evidence.
So feeling much abused, ignored and battered, I called a cease fire in the only way I know how: WHO WANTS LUNCH?
And how was your day?
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Snow Day Part Duex
A winter storm slammed into Eastern New Mexico. Like all the weather we get, this weather came with a lovely dose of wind that lowered our temperatures, froze roads and canceled school. Since house bound is never a good thing for us, we bundled up and took to the great outdoors. And then froze and came back in. Games were played, popcorn was consumed, cookies were backed, cookies were eaten, ornaments made and rooms were cleaned (had to sneak that one in there!).
I ended up circling this wild storm that was my children. A little snow, never stopped them. So we sledded, we horse sledded, we had snow balls and snow angels. Then inside to warm up for the next adventure.
And how was your day?
And how was your day?
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Clear Skies and calm winds
Yesterday, in her home in Ireland, famous Sci-fi author, Anne McCaffery died. She was 85. She began writting partly because she hated the way women were represented in sci-fi literature.
I discovered her novels as a junior in high school. I have remained a loyal and steadfast fan of her works.
Her Dragonriders of Pern series are by far my favorite, but I also found much enjoyment in her many other series, including her brain ship series, which stressed the importance of brains over beauty. She pinoeered not just the wonderful art of taking readers to new worlds, but investing her novels with as much science as was applicable. Education and the pursuit of knowledge were always stressed for both her male and female characters.
Someday, when we discover new worlds that are alike to our own, I hope that, for Anne, we name one Pern.
Good flying, Anne, find clear skies and fair winds.
Someday, when we discover new worlds that are alike to our own, I hope that, for Anne, we name one Pern.
Good flying, Anne, find clear skies and fair winds.
Friday, November 11, 2011
For All Veterans
Veteran's Day 11-11-11
A Veteran is someone, who at one point in their life,wrote a blank check payable to the United States of America for an amount up to, and including, their life. Regardless of personal religious or political views, that is an honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer remember that fact.
Remember, if it weren't for the deeds of the veterans, we would not be where we are today. We owe them the respect they have earned.
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