Your Friday Smile!

Have a look at this link: Where’s the rake?

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Click on strip to enlarge it.

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and finally:

This is so politically incorrect, but funny nonetheless!!!...

Every day, a male co-worker walks up very close to a lady standing at the coffee machine, inhales a big breath of air and tells her that her hair smells nice.

After a week of this, she can't stand it anymore, she takes her complaint to a supervisor of sexual harassment in the personnel department and states that she wants to write a grievance against him.

The Human Resources supervisor is puzzled by this decision and asks,
"What's sexually threatening about a co-worker telling you your hair smells nice?"

The woman replies, "It's Keith, the midget."

Told ya'!

Have a great weekend!

Where Would You Be?

If - You had all the money your heart desires?
If - You had no worries?
If - You came home and the finest meal is awaiting you?
If - Your bathwater had been run?
If - You had the perfect kids?
If - Your partner was awaiting you, with open arms and kisses?


So, where would you be?


Hellooooo!!!!!!!!!


You'd be in the wrong fucking house!

Delayed Reaction?!

When we talked about taking Cathy (the pooch) in I was worried how Tobi, our cat, would react. He has been alone with us all his life and has always been a house cat. He is a big pussy (in every sense of the term, but one!): never went out, or if he would the “option” to come in had to be available for him to relax a bit while rolling around on the deck. He’s always been somewhat sociable, once the initial shock of the doorbell over he would come down and stay with us/visitors. He wasn’t a slut for caresses with strangers as he is with us, but still he wasn’t the type to disappear as soon as someone new was in the house. When Hubby turned 40 we had over 50 people in the house, and Tobi was always around, either doing the chicken on the steps or roaming around the basement.

When he was hospitalised because of crystals, we were told that he was aggressive. When we went to pick him up the technician asked Hubby to go and get him out himself, that’s how aggressive he was, but with us, he’s always been a big fat wuss.

Cathy moved in and being the old dog that she is, she totally ignored him. She walked around, did her things, and really didn’t seem to care about the cat. As for Tobi, when Cathy came in our house, he was a bit worried, suspicious of this little thing walking about and making all sorts of weird noises. He would back off when she would walk by him or when she would try to sniff him. He was surprised a few times by her. Tobi was most curious of Cathy when she would be sleeping. She snores a lot and very loud for a pooch her size. He would sit on the stairs, stick his head through the railings and watched her sleep. The dog was completely oblivious to all this. As time went by they seemed to tolerate each other. I wouldn’t say they were friendly, but they co-existed. Read my post of August 08, about how they seemed to adapt.

We tried not to neglect him and have been giving him the same amount of attention as we used to. He comes and watches TV with us, on the couch like he always did; Hubby has his sparring session with him while on ice (for his knees, after cycling); we talk and caress him just like before, and he still sleeps with us at night. The only thing that noticeably changed is at meal times. Before pooch, at dinnertime, he would always roam around the dinner table and tried to get food from one of us. We very rarely did give him anything, and most time he wouldn’t eat it or keep it down. He would do the cat thing, i.e. sniff it and walk away. Since pooch that’s one routine that really changed. She was used to get table scraps from my mom, so whenever we sit down to eat she comes around and begs, dances, barks, etc. She does it all. When she barks Tobi runs away. I must say that we do give her bits.

A week ago, while Hubby’s uncle was here for dinner, we heard the cat hiss and the dog bark/yelp. We didn’t see what happened. We thought that was strange and continued eating. A few days ago, while I was on the couch, Tobi was sitting next to me, Cathy was doing her rounds (when she walks around the living room, dining room, kitchen, around and around). At one point she sat, on the floor, by me feet and was looking up at me. Tobi extended his paw and was trying to reach her, or so I thought. As she continued on her walk, he whack her behind the head. I was stunned. Cathy just kept on walking and went to her bed.

Last night, while we were having dinner, Cathy was doing her rounds and Tobi was sitting by the fridge in the kitchen. I saw her simply walking by him and again he hit her, hard. She almost tipped over! Cathy is about 7 lbs where as Tobi is about 14+ lbs and he’s been “trained” by Hubby to hit hard, with all the “sparring” they do. The dog yelped and went to her bed. I was furious! WTF? Let’s just say that I was pissed off at the cat for hitting her for no apparent reason.

Hubby thinks it’s food related. Tobi is a glutton. He will eat all his food at once, where as Cathy eats a bit here and there. Because he is so greedy when it comes to food, we only give his one portion of food/day. He “manages” it. He’s been a social eater, a little less since the pooch’s arrival, since she also goes into his bowl at times. They both do, and they both get reprimanded when we see them.

This morning, we are both in the office, Tobi is by our bedroom door, and Cathy is walking by when he attacked her. She yelped and came to see me all shabby-looking. The cat just sat there. But as soon as I got up he ran away. He’s not stupid!

Could Tobi be starting to react to Cathy after over 3 months of being here with us? Could he hurt her? He’s fully declawed (I’m thankful for that, wouldn’t want to see what he would do to her with claws!), but I’m still afraid that he could really hurt her. If she would be “younger” I wouldn’t worry about it, she could defend herself. Also, it’s making me wonder what the hell goes on during the time we are not home? I haven’t noticed any major change in Cathy’s behaviour, but I don’t want to see that either.

I love my cat… well… not at this exact moment, but still… I want them both to be happy and co-exist. They don’t have to love each other, but at least tolerate one another.
I never thought I would say that, but I feel very disappointed in my cat. What I felt or thought to have been a pleasant transition when we took Cathy in, is turning sour on me before my very eyes. Do any of you “opinionated lurkers” have any suggestion to mend this situation before it gets to be a real problem?
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Photo: Cat & Dog Fight

Oh no! I'm not ready yet!

A few days ago while sitting at my desk I heard it. But then thought it can’t be… not yet. I’m not ready for that. Not now! It’s still too early!

Just now I took the pooch out and heard it again… I looked up and there it was, a flight of geese heading South.

It was beautiful, and like every true beautiful thing, it brought tears to my eyes… for 2 main reasons: its beauty and because I really don’t want winter to come just yet. I'm enjoying fall at the moment... I know it's not all about me, but winter… I’m not ready… *sigh*

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Photo: Geese

Your Friday Smile!

There are two statues in a park; one of a nude man and one of a nude woman. They had been facing each other across a pathway for a hundred years, when one day an angel comes down from the sky and, with a single gesture, brings the two to life.

The angel tells them, "As a reward for being so patient through a hundred blazing summers and dismal winters, you have been given life for thirty minutes to do what you've wished to do the most."

He looks at her, she looks at him, and they go running behind the shrubbery.

The angel waits patiently as the bushes rustle and giggling ensues. After fifteen minutes, the two return, out of breath and laughing.

The angel tells them, "Um, you have fifteen minutes left, "Would you care to do it again?" He asks her. "Shall we?"

She eagerly replies, "Oh, yes, let's! But let's change positions. This time, I'll hold the pigeon down, and you shit on its head."


... AND WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!

Sorry Elf, but I thought it was a cute one!

* * *

They've found Hitler's son / On a retrouvé le fils d'Hitler :

Just couldn't resist!

Have a great weekend everyone!

Non-expressed ...

I feel cranky, I have a sore throat and I’m feverish! That’s all I really need at this time! Aaargh!

Since our week in North Conway, NH, end on August, I’ve been feeling like a cold or something is brewing. I’ve been taking Echinacea and vitamin C, and some days I almost feel “normal” (not that I really know how that feels, anyway!), and other days it is as if I’m about to be really sick. Strange.

Yesterday while being pricked (at the acupuncture’s office) he talked to me about how we hold on to our anger and how it turns into rage. It was quite interesting to hear about how our bodies “translate” that non-expressed anger, etc. I have realised a few years back that every time I don’t speak my mind, I get a sore throat! It’s creepy! I know! But it’s a fact!

What didn’t I say for me to have a sore throat today? Well…

My mother hunts moose. Her hunting season is opening in a few weeks. Where she goes hunting is about a six hours drive, heading north from her place. She’s been doing this for many years. She used to go with my dad, and since his death she goes with her beau, for weeks at the time. This year is the first year where her beau can’t go. He has kidney issues and needs dialysis three times/week, so he can’t really be in the woods for two weeks. Also this year, right smack in her hunting season I’ll be having surgery. Being the victim that she is, she feels thorn. What to do? Go hunting and worry about her beau and her daughter or stay home?

I spoke with her Saturday. She didn’t know what to do and to add to it all, said that she should have had the pooch put down instead of giving her to me, because when I took the pooch in I had told her not to come visit for a while (not that she does anyway!) until the pooch was “weaned” (of her); because of the pooch she wouldn’t be able to visit me after my surgery.

I didn’t say anything, but explain to her (again!) that was to wean to the pooch, at the beginning. After three months she (the pooch) might get that this is her new house… I also told her that if she wanted to go hunting not to stay here because of me. It’s a “routine” surgery (as far as the doctors are concerned) and her beau knows his way to the hospital since he’s been going there since December. Her indecision was so… so… (I can’t even describe it!) … anyway, I told her to do what she felt was right. I wasn’t going to make that decision for her. She had to decide what she wants to do.

That’s why I have a sore throat! I didn’t tell her that I thought she was a dumbass for saying such a thing and for feeling “thorn” about that “big” decision of hers! I didn’t say f-all! And anybody who’s been exposed to me a little, knows that I normally don’t hold back. Why did I remain quiet with my mother? Maybe because I “excuse” her for being old, and for not being the sharpest tool in the shed? Maybe she’s my just my mom and came not to expect too much from her? Who knows? All I know is that now I’m paying the price for sparing her goddam’ feelings!

And then, earlier, I got this e-mail from a friend in B.C.

How To Avoid The Flu

Eat right!
Make sure you get your daily dose of fruits and veggies.
Take your vitamins and bump up your vitamin C.
Get plenty of exercise because exercise helps build your immune system.
Walk for at least an hour a day, go for a swim, take the stairs instead of the elevator, etc.
Wash your hands often. If you can't wash them, keep a bottle of antibacterial stuff around.
Get lots of fresh air. Open doors & windows whenever possible.
Try to eliminate as much stress from your life as you can.
Get plenty of rest.
OR
Take the doctor's approach. Think about it...
When you go for a shot, what do they do first?
They Clean your arm with alcohol...
Why?
Because Alcohol KILLS GERMS.
So...

I walk to the liquor store (exercise)
I put lime in my Corona (fruit)
Celery in my Bloody Mary (veggies)
Drink outdoors on the bar patio (fresh air)
Tell jokes, laugh (eliminate stress)
Then pass out (rest)
The way I see it...

If you keep your alcohol levels up, flu germs can't get you!
My grandmother always said, "A shot in the glass is better than one in the ass!"

I think I’ll go get myself some shot (in a glass) … Do we have tequila at the moment? Humm… Let me see...

Recap of the past few weeks

This post will be a little (well, maybe not so little, but rather long… ) recap of what has been happening with us in the last few weeks. I haven't been the best at keeping in touch with family and friends lately, since I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed by all the events and I am trying not to let the stress of it all get to me. I already have a “short fused” temperament, so I have to remind myself at times to take it easy.

About a month ago (already! ) I was asking you what your thoughts were on me having surgery… Thank you all so much for all your comments. It did help to bounce ideas around and to think of other options. I did look into it a little bit further, and decided to go ahead with the surgery.
Wednesday was my “pre-op” day. I made my way to the hospital to the admission office, and started what would be my morning of waiting. I waited a bit at the admission office, then made my way, through was seemed like a labyrinth to meet a nurse who explained a few things like having to give myself an enema the night before surgery, shaving completely, etc., etc. So much fun, I can barely wait! After blood tests, peeing in a tube, cardiogram, etc. I was sent home with one final test to do 48 hrs before surgery: a pregnancy test. They want to make sure I’m not pregnant before removing my “equipment” for good… Funny! I just realised that I’ve never taken a pregnancy test before in my life! Wow!

While I was sitting in one of the many crowded hospital waiting areas, this crazy kid was shooting students at Dawson, and I had no idea what was going on… weird…

On October 12th they will be removing my cyst, my left ovary, my uterus and if need be, my right ovary. I want to keep that ovary if only to reduce the menopausal symptoms. That would be good the best scenario. I just hope it’s not messed up too much so that I can keep it…

I’m thinking about getting waxed completely, instead of shaving. I see this truly nice woman for my bikini wax and we talked about it, and I do think that despite the pain of having it done, it would be better to wax rather than shave. Any comment?

* * *

The last three weeks have been a bit hectic over here. As you may have guessed (even if I’ve always been quite open & frank about it) my relationship with my MIL hasn’t been a loving one. We would see each other when we had to, like at family dinner (Easter, Christmas, etc.) or events, but not on a social base. She didn’t like me, made it obvious, so after many attempts I decided to let it be. She didn’t have to like me (I'm ok with that), I just wanted her to respect the fact that I was with her son and that we loved each other. After 14 years one would think that she’d realise I was there to stay…

On Sept. 1st, she called Hubby at work and asked that we (not just him) go visit her in the hospital. She was being operated the next morning. Hubby didn’t have any details besides where she was. That evening we made our way to the Lakeshore Hospital (where I will be operated as well). She had already been there for five days and hadn’t told anybody, but her husband. She went in because she couldn’t drink a liquid that she had been prescribed for some tests (she had been feeling sickly for a while, and was having bowel problems, so she decided to go for some tests), she couldn’t keep it down. She thought the emergency room might give her some “trick” or maybe offer her something else. They kept her. They ran a battery of tests of found a big lump on her intestine.

She was operated on Saturday morning (Sept. 02). A part of her intestine was removed as well as the lump. Then she got an infection where her IV was, and then she started having diarrhea, which turned out to be C. Difficile. She’s very weak and her moral isn’t that great. Plus they haven’t got the pathology results yet, but it doesn’t look good from the preliminaries.

They never really had to deal with sickness. My FIL is shaken up and totally overwhelmed by it all. We’ve been seeing more of him (and her) in the last three weeks, than in our 14 years together. We’ve been feeding and “entertaining” him most evenings. Hubby and him have a lot of catching up to do…

Isn’t funny (well, not really, “funny” ) what fear can make us do? How, when we realise our mortality, are willing to change? It’s almost scary how my MIL attitude’s towards me changed! 180° turn! Now we hear from relatives how nice and helpful we are, even me, which NEVER happened before (on the contrary), but the thing is, I haven’t changed at all… (at least I don’t think so…) She’s been more civilised to me in the past three weeks than ever before, and I’ll take it! I’m hoping it will remain even when she feels better… but like Hubby said, I shouldn’t be holding my breath! ...and I'm not! But one can only hope.

* * *

Pooch-a-fication: 3 months!

Three months! And she’s still going strong! While we went away for a week, she stayed with one of Hubby’s cousin, and they had a blast from what I hear, they enjoyed each other and the pooch came home even more spoiled then when we brought her to cousin’s cottage. Who would have thought that she could get even more spoiled, but cousin managed to do it! We were happy to see her so well and happy.

What we thought was going to be a short-term thing might turn out to be a longer run thing! She doesn’t look like she’s ready to kick the bucket just yet, now, does she?

That shot was taken during her stay with cousin, and she had emailed it to us to "show" us that pooch was enjoying her stay and doing well. Couldn't help to say "aww" when I saw it.

* * *

Besides all that, I've been seeing a personal trainer to build stronger core muscles, in preparation for the surgery, but mostly to shorten the post-op recuperation. The better prepare my belly muscles will be, the faster I will be back on my feet. I have to be up and about for my party, which I'm also getting organised. The invitations have been made and sent, as of last week. I'm trying to get as much done as possible before October 12th, since after that I want my attention to be on healing.

That's what has been going on with us lately, in case you were wondering...
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Photos: Surgery , MIL and Pooch: personal collection

Votre Friday Smile!

Un gars fait tranquillement la file à la caisse d'un supermarché quand il remarque une belle petite blonde qui lui fait signe de la main et qui lui sourit.
Il lui sourit à son tour et dit: " Excusez-moi, est-ce que je vous connais?"
Elle répond en souriant: " Je peux me tromper, mais je pense que vous êtes le père d'un de mes enfants... "
Les souvenirs du gars se bousculent et finalement, le renvoient vers la seule et unique fois où il a été infidèle.
Il s'exclame! : " Sacrament, ça serait pas toi la danseuse que j'ai baisé complètement saoûl sur la table de pool devant tous mes chums, pendant que votre amie
me flagellait avec un céleri mouillé en m'insérant un concombre dans le cul? "
" Heu..non! ", répond-elle, je suis le nouveau professeur de maternelle de votre fils!!! "

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Italian Advice

An old Italian Mafia Don is dying. He calls his grandson to his bed. "You lissin-a me. I wanna for you to taka my chrome-plated 38 revolver, so you will always remember me."

The grandson replies, "But grandpa, I really don't like guns. Howzabout you leava me your Rolex watch instead?"

"Shuddup an lissin." Grandpa struggles to drive home his point. "Somma day you gonna runna da business, you gonna have a beautifula wife, lotsa money, a biga home and maybe a couple a bambinos. Somma day you gonna coma home and maybe find you wife inna bed with another man. Whadda you gonna do then......pointa to you watch and a say, times up?"

The Don had a point.

and on that note, have a great weekend everyone!

WTF is going on in the world today?

While in line to get my driver’s license renewed, a young woman came in with this scared look on her face; she was trembling and dialling on her cell. She said that there was a shooting at Dawson College, downtown Montreal.

On my way home, I heard on the radio and now on basically every local channels that about 2 hours ago (at around 12:30 – 13:00) a white man in his twenties, wearing a black trench coat walked in the Atrium (cafeteria) of the college and randomly started shooting.

From different reports, and eyewitnesses, there might have been two gunmen. We don’t know anything for sure, but the description given by most present, is of this white guy, dressed in black with a mohawk. They reported that the police shot him, but everything is so chaotic at the moment that we don't know for sure if he was he alone. So far the news officially reported 6 people in critical condition, 2 in serious and 4 in stable. They haven’t confirm the number of dead yet, if any.

Just in case, concerned families should call: 514.280.2880 if they haven’t heard from their kids or loved one who do attend Dawson.

Dawson, is a Cegep (cegep, in Québec, is where we go after high-school which represents the 12th and 13th grade), after cegep we go to university. Dawson is one of the few English colleges we have in Montreal. It has a student body of 10,000.

I grew up in that area of town, and to see students running out of the building in tears, running for cover, and all over the place, gave me goose bumps! WTF is happening with the world? This is completely crazy!

This is so reminding me of December 6th, 1989 when a crazed gunman, Marc Lépine, entered l’École Polytechnique de Montréal, and shot women. He killed 14 women that evening and wounded just as many. Or when Valery Fabrikant, mechanical eng. teacher at Concordia Univeristy opened fired on his colleagues, killing 4 of them, on August 24, 1992.

WTF is wrong with people? Kids taking guns and shooting people, just like Columbine in 1999, we are reaching a seriously fucked up point in time… I just don’t get it… what a mess!
This is the type of things you hear about on the news, and have this twisted feeling of guilt almost that “at least” it’s not “here”, it’s happening somewhere else, but lately the “not here” is starting to feel like it’s getting darn close… What is up with that?

___

UPDATE: Here are some (personal) pictures of the shooter: Kimveer Gill. Sickening.

___

UPDATE 2: One young girl, 18 years old, Anastasia De Sousa died yesterday. And 20 others were wounded. Read more about it here, or here.

My thoughts are with the De Sousa family and friends.

A Quick One

I was thinking about how people seem to read the Bible a whole lot more as they get older; then it dawned on me... they're cramming for their final exam.

Five years already

I will always remember being in bed when a friend called me to let me know that a plane had crashed into a tower in New York. I turned on the television and watched, and then the second plane hit… That was the end of the world, as we knew it…

For the last couple of days we’ve been bombarded with newscast and images of the terrible events that happened five years ago. I still get chills when I see these images, and yet a part of me has become almost “use to it”, and that part scares me. How is it that something so horrible can become something so… so… commercialize?

Yes, we must remember that horrible day; yes, we have to talk about it, but at the same time I’m afraid that by overdoing it we are making it not matter as much… Five years ago we all got scared, deep down, at our core, we realised that we lived in a world where terrorism could touch us as well, it wasn’t only happening “over there”, but it was happening here as well, and that was a very scary realisation. We all wanted to get involved, we were all shaken up, horrified and yet our lives took over. We didn’t change anything in the end. And the world is still as crappy as ever.

If remembering September 11 only serves one thing, may it be to remind us of those resolutions we made following the events of 2001. We should never become use to seeing war, bombings and the horror that has been surrounding us lately. We have to remain horrified and never let violence become a casual thing. Let’s not wait for other events to wake us up or for other lives to be lost before doing something about it.

Now, if only I knew what it is that we could do…

___

Photo: Can't remember where I took it from... sorry...

The Strongest Dad in the World

A must read/watch the video at the end - the next time your kid asks you to go on a bike ride and you really don't feel like it, think about Dick Hoyt.

From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly

I try to be a good father.
Give my kids mulligans.
Work nights to pay for their text messaging.
Take them to swimsuit shoots.
But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day.
Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?
And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs. "He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life." Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. "Put him in an institution."

But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. "No way," Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain."
"Tell him a joke," Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.

Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? "Go Bruins!" And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, "Dad, I want to do that." Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described "porker" who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. "Then it was me who was handicapped," Dick says. "I was sore for two weeks."

That day changed Rick's life. "Dad," he typed, "when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!" And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon. "No way," Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway. Then they found a way to get into the race officially - in 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?" How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.

Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four gruelling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think? Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? "No way," he says. Dick does it purely for "the awesome feeling" he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe-sized smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time - Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing anotherman in a wheelchair at the time. "No question about it," Rick types. "My dad is the Father of the Century."

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. "If you hadn't been in such great shape," one doctor told him, "you probably would've died 15 years ago." So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy. "The thing I'd most like," Rick types, "is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once."

Here's the video: (Can ) Father-son bond of Dick and Rick Hoyt


In case the link don't work: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ryCTIigaloQ

Vieux sage * Wise old Man

*English version below*

Le vieux sage

Un homme de 92 ans, petit, très fier, habillé et bien rasé tous les matins à 8h00, avec ses cheveux parfaitement coiffés, déménage dans un foyer pour personnes âgées aujourd'hui-même.

Sa femme de 70 ans est décédée récemment, ce qui l'oblige à quitter sa maison. Après plusieurs heures d'attente dans le lobby du foyer, il sourit gentiment lorsqu'on lui dit que sa chambre est prête.

Comme il se rendait jusqu'à l'ascenseur avec sa marchette, je lui fis une description de sa petite chambre, incluant le drap suspendu à sa fenêtre servant de rideau.

Je l'aime beaucoup dit-il, avec l'enthousiasme d'un petit garçon de 8 ans qui vient d'avoir un nouveau petit chien. M. Gagné, vous n'avez pas encore vu la chambre, attendez un peu.

Cela n'a rien à voir, a-t-il répondu. "Le bonheur est quelque chose que je choisis à l'avance. Que j'aime ma chambre ou pas ne dépend pas des meubles ou de la décoration - ça dépend plutôt de la façon dont moi je les perçois. C'est déjà décidé dans ma tête que j'aime ma chambre. C'est une décision que je prends tous les matins à mon réveil. J'ai le choix, je peux passer la journée au lit en comptant les difficultés que j'ai avec les parties de mon corps qui ne fonctionnent plus, ou me lever et remercier le ciel pour celles qui fonctionnent encore.

Chaque jour est un cadeau, et aussi longtemps que je pourrai ouvrir mes yeux, je focusserai sur le nouveau jour et tous les souvenirs heureux que j'ai amassés tout au long de ma vie.

La vieillesse est comme un compte de banque. Tu retires de ce que tu as amassé."

Donc, mon conseil pour vous, serait de déposer beaucoup de bonheur dans votre compte de banque des souvenirs. Merci de votre participation à remplir mon compte de banque car je dépose encore.

Souvenez-vous de ces simples règles pour être Heureux:
1. Libérez votre coeur de la haine
2. Libérez votre tête des soucis
3. Vivez simplement
4. Donnez plus
5. Attendez-vous à moins.

***

I'll do my best to translate this for you, since I think it's a nice story...

A 92 years old man, frail, proud, well dressed and not one hair out of place, is moving to an old folks home. His 70 years old wife passed away recently, so he must leave their home. He gently smiles when told that his new room is finally ready, after many hours of waiting.

As he was making his way to the elevator with his walker, I gave him a description of his new room, including the sheet that served as a curtain.

I love it he said, with the enthusiasm of an 8 years old who got his first puppy. But wait, I told him, you haven't even seen it yet.

That has nothing to do with it, he said, "happiness is something I choose. For me to like my room has nothing to do with the furniture or the decoration - it depends on how I choose to see it. I've already decided that I like it. It's a choice I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice, to stay in bed and count the ways my body doesn't work anymore or to get up and be thakful for the ways it still works.

Every day is a gift and as long as I can open my eyes, I will focus on this new day and on all the great memories I've accumulated throughtout my life.

Life is like a bank account, you withdraw what you put in."

So, my advice to you would be to make a lot of deposits in your memory bank. Thank you for contributing to my account, because I still make deposits.

Remember those simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart of hatred
2. Free your head of worries
3. Live a simple life
4. Give more
5. Expect less.

Your Friday Smile!

This 80 year old woman was arrested for shop lifting. When she went before the judge in Cincinnati he asked her, "What did you steal?" She replied, "A can of peaches."

The judge then asked her why she had stolen the can of peaches and she replied that she was hungry. The judge then asked her how many peaches were in the can. She replied 6.

The judge then said, "I will then give you 6 days in jail." Before the judge could actually pronounce the punishment, the woman's husband spoke up and asked the judge if he could say something. The judge said, "What is it?"

The husband said, "She also stole a can of peas."

***


***

Two bored casino dealers are waiting at the crap table. A very attractive blonde woman from Alabama arrived ....and bet twenty-thousand dollars ($20,000) on a single roll of the dice.

She said, "I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I play topless."

With that, she stripped to the waist; rolled the dice; and yelled, "Come on, baby.... Southern Girl needs new clothes!"

As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up-and-down... and squealed... "YES! YES! I WON! I WON!"

She hugged each of the dealers... and then picked up her winnings and her clothes, and quickly departed.

The dealers stared at each other dumfounded. Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?"

The other answered, "I don't know... I thought you were watching."

Moral: Not all Southerners are stupid. Not all blondes are dumb. But, all men... are men.

On that note, have a great weekend everyone!

Cyber Friendship - Reality or Fiction?

I actually caught myself thinking about a fellow blogger while shopping and that was the trigger for this post. I let her know about it in a comment I left and when she wrote back that she often thinks about “blog-people”, while going about her daily life, as though they are “in-person friends”, I really started to think about this cyber friendship possibility.

I’ve only been blogging since April (even if it does feel like way before then), and while exploring the blogosphere I came to realise that I was creating this special kind of link with complete strangers, I was, in a twisted way, making cyber friends. I write “twisted” because I know nothing about these people except that they have access to a computer and know how to use it and of course, what they share with the world through their blog.

Whenever you meet someone for the first time the “first” impression is very important, and I believe it is the same in the blogosphere; except here we have the option to click on that “Next Blog >>” button. It’s easy and nobody’s feelings are hurt. If you don’t like what you read you go somewhere else and that’s that. That part I just love!

There are way too many blogs out there for me to read, so I pick one, visit it a few times and if, after a few posts, I realise that’s not for me then I’ll drop it. I’ve met some pretty interesting individuals through blogs; some with a really warp sense of humour, some very opinionated, some very serious, deep, angry or confused, a real fruit salad if you ask me. A little something for all to enjoy! I read what they write, leave a comment; they come for a visit on my blog, and the blog dancing starts. Would I say that friendships are made? Well… That’s where I get confused…

When I refer to fellow bloggers I refer to them by their blog name. It’s strange since I don’t really how else to refer to them. I don’t “know” them… If we were to meet outside the blogosphere would we hit it off? Or is this cyber relationship only good in Blogsville? I have this feeling that with some we could become friends, but that could only be due to the “weightlessness” of cyber space; the anonymous nature of it all.

I know that Cyber Friendship is real, check this out. It has become what “Pen Pals” used to be (for me at least, even if I still love to write with a pen and nice paper!). Should I be thinking of my readers as cyber friends? I know that I can ask their opinions and they will answer. Is this like having your cake and eating it too? Since we are from all over the world there’s this freedom of not having to call and check on your friend... you read their blog and carry on...

We could all be playing games, leading a double life in a way. Being a certain way in Blogsville and a completely other way in Life City. (That will be the subject of another post that has been brewing for a while now). We can tell our readers whatever we want, and nobody knows (except the real people in our lives who read our blogs, if (like me) you have broken that rule and let them know about it), that could be empowering for some… and yet, it feels/reads like some people really do care about other bloggers.

Do you think the bonds we are creating here could be as strong, in their own special ways, as the one we establish “outside”? Are the concerns and emotions we share in comments as meaningful?

___

Photo: http://www.waleg.com/archives/002840.html

Mates I will be missing...

This weekend I’ve lost 2 guys that I truly enjoyed watching for very different reasons.

The first one, I’ve been watching for years, I even had a crush on him in his younger days that turned into respect for the man he was becoming. If you haven’t guessed it yet, I’m talking about Andre Agassi…

Yesterday I got all choked up when I heard his farewell to his fans after his match against Benjamin Becker, at the US Open. When he said that the scoreboard showed that he had lost, but it didn’t show what he had won… that got to me. That man truly loved what he did and for that alone I admire him!

I will sure miss his attitude, his sense of style, his amazing returns, and his hairstyles, his wives (C’mon! How many men can say that they married Brooke Shields and Steffi Graf!?) and to top it off he seems to be a good person.

Like his coach and friend, Darren Cahill, said yesterday he would come to be remembered "as one of the all-time sporting greats, so not just a great in tennis but in all sports".

I sure will miss watching him play!

The other one, well, it’s a whole different style, but "Crikey!" I liked him in his own special way. I’m talking about the Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin.

I didn’t have a crush on him or anything, and yes I thought he was a buffoon at times, but at the same time I could see that this man really loved nature and all animals… He was the real deal. He shares his passion with his wife Terri and their kids. I was stunned (no pun intended) this morning when I heard of his death, and then I thought that it must have been the best way to go for him, doing something he truly enjoyed...

On his web site you can read what his producer and closest friend, John Stainton said on Croc One today, “The world has lost a great wildlife icon, a passionate conservationist and one of the proudest Dads on the planet. He died doing what he loves best and left this world in a happy and peaceful state of mind. Crocs Rule!”

I will miss his energy and passion and my thoughts are with his family – I’m sure he will leave a big void!

...they both will, each in their own special way...
___

Photos: Agassi & Croc Hunter

Your Friday Smile!

A Professor was giving a lecture on "Involuntary Muscular Contractions" to his first year medical students. Realizing that this was not the most riveting subject, the Professor decided to lighten the mood slightly.

He pointed to a young woman in the front row and said, "Do you know what your asshole is doing while you're having an orgasm?"

She replied, "Golfing with his buddies?"

***

One morning the husband returns after several hours of fishing and decides to take a nap. Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors, and reads her book.

Along comes a Game Warden in his boat. He pulls up alongside the woman and says, "Good morning, Ma'am. What are you doing?"
"Reading a book," she replies, (thinking, "Isn't that obvious?")
"You're in a Restricted Fishing Area," he informs her.
"I'm sorry, officer, but I'm not fishing. I'm reading."
"Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment. I'll have to take you in and write you up."
"If you do that, I'll have to charge you with sexual assault," says the woman.
"But I haven't even touched you," says the game warden.
"That's true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could start at any moment."
"Have a nice day ma'am," and he left.

MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads. It's likely she can also think.

Have a great looong weekend everyone!