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MY SISTER and Her Blog

 I've been playing around with various websites trying to find a USER FRIENDLY one for my sister... This is what I have so far... My sister, Cindy is 3 years older than I am and we have lost contact over the last 25 years and only recently begun making inroads to building a new relationship.

MY HAT

 




   THERE ARE SOME THINGS that are "just once in a life time" experiences; this was mine! I got my hat while on a TRIP in Columbia. We, John Velasquez and myself took a 700 step trek up the side of one of the World's largest rocks to a patio tower on top. After our descent I purchased this hat as a memento of the event and trip. No, it's not a Stetson. My hat is La Casadel Sombrero SASTOR 3xxx STEVENSON. I can't read it any more but I think it says SIZE 8 (?); It has tassels on back of rim, I didn't care for them at first, but came to like it for what it was. I love my hat and the memories it brings to mind of my grand adventures to another country.Because I had such a wonderful trip and John's neice, Natalia was my English guide I gifted her my favorite Indiana Jones fedora as a token of my deep appreciation; hence, also the reason for purchasing this one in return.
    While there I even saw some of the Guerrilla Rebels in Colombia. On the way to THE ROCK, El Penon we saw a band of Rebels pretending to be doing road construction. Our cab driver stopped and paid a "tax" as with passed by I saw all the rifles to the side on the way back they were not there; very very tense for awile there as they were looking in the cab and chattering away, I could tell even John was getting a bit concerned though he tired not showing it to me. I loved my trip and would go back in a heartbeat. The people were friendly and very respectful. Not only that but got to see some great ART, and visit the GRAVE of a Colombian Drug Lord.

ON THE FLIP SIDE

Saying Goodbye:On the flipside
Saying goodby
Like telling your life its all over
It's like looking for the 4 leaf clover
You want, you can't, it doesn't exist.

I can't say goodbye
I can only say, I'll see you on the flipside
Goodbye is - so final
   I will stay tribal

I've had so many loved ones
loved ones died
   left or just gone
The will always remain
   tied to my heart like a song

As you will
with that beautiful smile
that very tender passionate kiss
Your touch, your sweet large heart
As well as I an yours

Thank you God
on the flipside.

~BY
 Cynthia D. Gutkowski
(One of my sister's poems).


.

FINER THAN GOLD

You are finer than gold and riches;
you are rich with love and caring
you are a "Go to Guy"
Never ending just like the sky
Your compassion for others
   goes above and beyond
Patient, caring.
Yes Love, love above all!
You are a gifted man.
WIth the saying "I can".
I adore you with everythingI am
Our journey together we learn
   from each other.
Each day is new and exciting just to know
So inviting
Good day my love
Let's see what a Blessing this day will
    bring forth.

~ BY
 Cynthia D. Gutkowski
(One of my sister's poems).


.

THE KEY



A Short Story by David DeLane Snow

   “No. Go watch Barney or SpongeBob on Netflix, honey. Mommy is still cleaning,” The young mother instructed her five year old daughter, Hope back into the living room. Candice Landmark had cleaned the girl’s room up two days before, and after having collected two large trash bags was surprised there was yet more to find.  The people at Good Will knew her on a first name bases after such cleaning sprees as these, she smiled to herself.
   “Mom I’m hungry.”  Faith said at the doorway.  The seven year old sister’s message had been lost on her younger sibling.  Candice realized her older daughter had come to do her own job this time around as she sighed an, “Alright.”  Tossing a one armed teddy bear onto the bed, wondering how it had been overlooked, Candice paraded the starving children to the dining table for milk and peanut butter sandwiches.

   After cleaning up from the meal she redirected the girls to the living room to either do their own cleaning of misplaced toys or settle down to watch another round of shows as she finished up her own chores.  The angles decided on cartoons instead of labor.
   Picking up where she had left off, Candice resumed her cleaning spree by placing the arm-missing bear in the trash, and dove back into the closet.  Seemed a Mom’s job was never done.  She could not phantom how the room could be in such disarray in just a few days.  Humming a church tune in her head she continued vacating the small room of every item in favor of a closer inspection and inventory; before reassigning them new shelf space and hangers.  The venture always found the recovery of some lost item.  This time was no different.
  Just as she was about to return a pair of her youngest daughter’s Velcroed worn-tennis shoes beneath a lower cubby holed shelf in the closet, Candice felt the rattle within.  “Oh my word what did Hope hide this time”, the young mom whispered aloud to herself? What she found and what it lead to she never saw coming.
   Last time Candice had done a total house cleaning she had come across her husband’s stashed collection of cigarette butts. For some unknown reason Wayne kept all his “last cigarette butts” to commemorate his attempts at quitting.  Then there was her youngest daughter’s collection of cat-hair balls kept in a sock! Candice was almost afraid to find out what the child had this time.
  Timidly her slender fingers slid into the child’s shoe.  Upon retrieving an old fashion key Candice found herself starring at it for the longest time trying to place where in the world it could have come from. Her perplexed thoughts instantly evaporated when the shocked answer came from the five year old herself.
   Coming up beside her, Hope informed the bewildered adult, “Mommy that’s Nana’s key.” 
   “Okay baby.” A mixture of emotions waved over Candice as she realized the key belonged to the jewelry boxed from her own bedroom closet.  A year before, her grandmother had passed away; the box and key were gifted to her from her mom.  Candice had only briefly glanced inside the box the day after the funeral.  Noticing the bobbles and costume trinkets of her beloved grandmother Lois Sakmir, the granddaughter locked it up without a second look.  With the girl’s bedroom complete she thought maybe it was time to rediscover the heirlooms and see what childhood memories she could recall.
    Going to her own walk-in closet to explore, her mind began to rehearse the day she last touched the jewelry box.  Setting her older dresses aside for the second hand store, Candice then made her way deeper into the closet as her two daughters came in behind her.  Atop a clear storage container sat the polished jewelry box.  The scene of a traditionally dressed Japanese woman carrying a parasol, strolling past a Bonsai tree adorned the lid’s worn surface. Retrieving the small treasure chest all three girls made their way out again, then sat on the King size bed.
   “It’s Nana’s box, right Mommy?” Hope sounded a little possessive.
   “Well, it’s Mommy’s box now baby.  Just like Marshall used to be Nana’s puppy, he’s ours now.” Candice informed her youngest daughter, who claimed their Scotty Terrier as her own.
   Using the key again she opened the lid of the mahogany box revealing two smaller tasseled-lids rising up and exposing treasures galore.  The girls marveled with Woos and Awes!  One by one Candice pulled out each item and explained in great detail the back-stories of her legacy hoard.
   “This one,” Candice said, holding up a Masonic Square and Compass inlaid gold ring, “belonged to your great grandfather, Buddy.”
   “Did he love us mommy?” Faith asked.
   “Of course he did Sweetie.  Grand-paw just had a very hard life, honey.” Candice tried not looking sad over the comment as she pulled a freshwater pearl necklace from the wooden chest.  “Can I wear it Mommy?” Faith begged.
   “Sure you can.” Putting the heirloom delicately about the child’s neck; both beamed ear to ear.  Moments later Hope was trotting about in over-sized shoes announcing, “I’m a Princess too, Sissy.”
   About that time her husband entered the bedroom carrying a baby in his arms announcing, “Candice, Destiny is changed and Marshall did his business in the back yard. I’m heading out for a smoke.”  After being placed in her carrier, her sister’s attention went back to playing dress up.  As the dog jumped up onto the clothes laden bed the jewelry box tumbled with a crash.
  “Oh no! Marshall! Go on, get out of here.” Candice yelled causing the nearly sleeping infant to burst into tears.  The box was upside down.  Though still intact, its mirror had popped out undamaged.  The girls scrambled to assist their mother with returning the scattered necklaces, hair pins and broaches back into their rightful compartments. 
   Just as Candice was sitting back onto the bed unfolding a one page letter, Wayne came rushing in the room holding the terrier close in his arms, asking, “What’s all the commotion about Hon?”  Faith was caressing the calming cheeks of her baby sister as her mother explained to dad the events with the box.
  Candice added, “Then after Marshall almost broke it, this letter popped out from behind the mirror.”
  “Really? What does it say?” Wayne inquired. Seeing everything was alright and that reading would calm his wife down, he tossed the silver hair dog back onto the bed.  The terrier curled behind Candice apologetically and sat in silence as she began enunciating aloud.

    “Rachel took me to the doctor’s appointment last week.  I’ve been diagnosed with the early stages of Alzheimer’s disease.  I’m so scared to death.  I fought so hard in my life to be memorable, and now I’m going to forget everything myself, so many cherished memories. Where do you start dismantling your life? They’ve all made me who I am, who I was.  I love my grand babies so much, and the joy they’ve become for Candice and Wayne.  Charlene and Randel with their Ski Lodge business is just amazing. Diane and Scott both become doctors – I’m so very proud of how things turned out for all my children.
   I was thrilled that Buddy and I were able to make such a wonderful life together.  I was so devastated when the Chaplain came to the house and told me Buddy had been killed in Vietnam.  My world collapsed and everything changed.
   I had three little girls relying on me and I felt all alone.  Had it not been for Marshal Evans I never would have been able to keep my sanity.  Marshal was more than just a deacon in the church he was a great friend and after a while we became more than that. After a few months we became lovers and life was great again until the day he asked me to marry him.  It was eighteen months later to the very day the Army officials informed me that Buddy had not been killed but had been a POW instead.  He was released and coming home.  It was an amazing roller coaster ride.
   Buddy and I continued as before.  He was changed by the war and we fell apart because of it.  Yet for the girls we stayed together even with his heavy drinking.  Marshall was there and he always comforted me and knew the right things to say and do.  Buddy either never knew or cared that Marshall and I were close; he seemed so distant – off fighting his own Vietnam demons. Buddy never let anyone get close and he always shut others out who tried.
   Me? Now it seems even my secret life is to be ripped away and forgotten.”

   As she finished reading the letter, Candice’s mouth dropped.  Her wide eyes locked onto those of her husband’s own.  Wayne blurted out, “Wow!  Least we know now where your grandmother got the name for all her dogs.



The Sting of Death is Gone Why Isn't the Fear?



54 When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”[a]

55 “Where, O death, is your victory?
    Where, O death, is your sting?”[b]

56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law.

Birthday Today....Yep All About "ME" LOL

I was born on this DATE "51" years ago as DAVID DELANE SNOW, to Bobbie Lee Snow and Linda Lucille Townsend, in Dallas County, Irving, Texas; my older brother Tracy Lee Snow was just three at the time. Four months before President Kennedy would be assassinated, before Viet Nam broke out, before the Moon landings, and yes I was born even before Star Trek aired. I remember Star Trek, the moon landings, Nixon, vinyl records before 8-track tapes; even life before I was raised a Jehovah's Witness. I am blessed to have made it this far in life with all its struggles of lessons learned; and hope for yet more joys to experience. I have already seen the wonderful blessing of having grand children - what more is there to behold?


 1963 (I was born)
TOP SONG ON THE RADIO
BEST PICTURE AT THE MOVIES

 1973 (I was 10)
 TOP SONG ON THE RADIO
BEST PICTURE AT THE MOVIES

1983 (I was 20)
 TOP SONG ON THE RADIO
BEST PICTURE AT THE MOVIES

1993 (I was 30)
TOP SONG ON THE RADIO

BEST PICTURE AT THE MOVIES

2003 (I was 40)
 TOP SONG ON THE RADIO

BEST PICTURE AT THE MOVIES

2013 (I was 50) 
TOP SONG ON THE RADIO

BEST PICTURE AT THE MOVIES

July 12th 2014


.

RE-THINK



  

  
 
  

  

  






FB-THE LESSON



   
   Eighty-seven year old Emily Madison found herself aimlessly wondering in the woods nearby her nursing home. Though she had been diagnosed with Alzheimer a few months back, to the devastation of her family, she had not yet descended into the bowls of its horrific hands, or so she thought. But still, she could not account for having wondered off into the woods alone by herself. The farther she followed the path the closer her bare feet brought her to the sound of voices. One was almost recognizable, the others too indistinct to make out.
   Suddenly, like a brilliant burst of soft light she felt herself being pulled backward. Landing in the past of her youth was excitingly mind whirling as she came to recognize her six year old self. Wearing a new Easter dress hunting for eggs along with a half dozen other children from Church. Emily smiled, remembering it was the day she first met Tommy Madison, later to become her husband of fifty-two years. Her home lay on the other side of the woods and through which she now suddenly found herself being flashed forward through to a secluded area.
   Seeing herself, now as a teenager, receiving her first kiss from Samuel Davenport took her breath away. Samuel’s tender advancements got out of hand and it was Tommy who had come along just in time to rescue her from being raped. Three days later they began seriously dating and became fast friends. Emily’s eyes teared up at seeing how heroic the smaller framed Tommy was, defending her honor against the brawn of Samuel‘s six foot stature. Tommy covered Emily with his coat and embraced her with every bit the savior he showed himself to be throughout their enduring marriage.
   
  Wanting so much to stay and relieve those moments, Emily felt the tug of fate whisk her away to yet another memory of their first born daughter’s wedding day. It had been performed by their pastor, Thomas Smith, standing atop a stump that marked the beginning of the Lakeview woods she so dearly loved. Michelle and her new husband would later give Tommy and Emily five grandchildren and nine great grandkids; all the joy of her life. Emily was so proud of how her life was turning out, seeing Michelle begin her live was like restarting her own all over again.
   Without warning she had again been thrown forward in time to her near present. She saw herself lying in her bed at the Lakeview Care Nursing Home. Standing over her was Angela Stillman, an RN every family member loved but the residents detested because of her two face-ness.
   Her nurse was now acting like an Angle of Mercy: smothering Emily with her own pillow. A panic attack of terror thrashed through Emily’s mind as all she could do was simply lay there without the use of her arms to fight back. The darkness engulfed her vision as her labored gasped were swallowed to a stop of nothingness.
Yet, out of the black void, Emily felt herself through the opened doors of her childhood church. Ever so slowly she glidingly floated down the center isle through the congregation filled pews toward the flower laden alter. Seeing an oversized portrait herself and several various pictures that had been taken throughout her life were surreal to observe. A strange yet unsettling happiness came over her at not seeing a casket but a beautifully decorated wooden urn. Her daughter had fulfilled Emily’s wishes of being cremated. It was rather bothersome to take in, hearing the somber pre-recorded music softly playing in the background overlaid with her family’s crying. Her favorite grandson; Albert’s weeping was most disturbing to Emily who wanted so much to console him that everything was alright, and that her newly diagnosed cancer was no longer an unbearable pain to endure.
   The eerie humming of low murmured voices began to grow louder, and came from all directions. She felt sick, uneasy in her stomach. Emily looked down to see her feet had burst into flames, with her legs and lower torso engulfed like smoldering ash amid the gathered logs of an outdoor camp fire. There was no burning sensation only the growing tingle of nausea growing in her thoughts. A nausea; like coming home from a great outing with your loved ones only to find your home had been burglarized, a gut wrenching wave of having victimized.
   The smoke had consumed Emily. In utter bewilderment she looked at both her raised hands, which now appeared almost transparent, for they existed only as smoky apparitions of their former state. Just when she wanted to scream out for someone to explain what was happening the answer came quickly on its own.
Her grandson, Albert, was standing several feet away from the bon fire Emily now found herself the center piece of; as a group of his friends were gathered in a circle about the burning logs.
     Emily’s mind was all a whirl as to why they were standing in the woods in the middle of the dark of winter. Was it a college fraternal gathering, she wondered? They were dressed in dark colored robes humming or chanting as Albert continued to walk backwards behind the gathering. He appeared to be empting a box of dust out upon the ground. Emily’s nausea tingled throughout her body as her hands became less smoke like and more solid.
     Stan Branford, Albert’s childhood friend was standing directly in front of Emily with his arms raised, dagger in hand, chanting, “Mah-thran You-Soor Veth-lu-mare Cor-van--” Then suddenly stopped. His half bored expression abruptly changed to one of total panic and fear. Just completing the Magick Circle, Albert caught a glimpse of his fully formed grandmother standing in the middle of the camp site’s fire, glaring angrily back at him. Albert stopped, frozen in his tracks staring at his grandmother’s burning yet unconsumed form in the fire before him. “Nan Na?!”
    Realizing that she had unwittingly been summonsed for protection, and her ashes used to outline the perimeter of where some conjured entity was allowed to appear set Emily off into a rage. She yelled at Albert, as the entire gathering stood frozen listening to her admonishments, “You left the Church for this? What’s wrong with you, boy? Your parents -- I taught you better than to fool around with all that Satanic nonsense.”
   Before she could berate him any farther, several thick armed tentacles came out of nowhere from up behind Emily. She began screaming at how she had been betrayed and who did they think they were to use her ashes in such a disrespectful manner, when all of a sudden the squid like arms began piercing through the air, lancing the gathered shadows before Emily. Bodies were entangled, waved in the air high above the darkened tree tops and smashed into the earth. Heads crushed, and bodies mangled. Two, three at a time the scattering statues were caught running for their lives only to be snuffed out by the multi-appendage creature. Finally, a great tentacle limb coiled itself around Albert’s trembling body. From foot to neck it grabbed him in mid scream he was silenced as the great arm slowly brought him gliding through the air to hover before Emily’s boring gaze.
   Softly her tenuous voice whispered, “I’m disappointed in you, grandson…”
   But before she could say any more, the wooden urn slipped from Albert’s one free hand, releasing the box into the roaring flames. Albert fell to the ground just as the great squid-like arms and his grandmother both evaporated into embers of the dissipating smoke.

   Laying on the ground a few feet from the dying camp fire, Albert looked about to see that none of his companions remained alive, and whispered the demonic entity‘s name, “Cthulhu! I’m sorry Gran ma I’ll dispose of them at the Lake like you wanted.”







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