Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Happy Tuesday

Crazy Train (of thought)

If you tend to make things out to be much larger than they are, others end up telling everyone else things are much smaller than you believe they are. Could be embarrassing.

What memories do you want to leave your children? Memories of how much you cared for them, or how much more you cared for yourself?

Hopefully today is the day Cynthia McKinney gets her walking papers. What an idiot. An embarrassment, too.

Marital Bliss

Last night I took Jill to see her favorite band, Steely Dan, in an outdoor theater. 95 degrees it was. I fanned her for 4 hours to help keep her cool enough to enjoy the show. That’s what a loving husband does. Am I praising myself, boosting? You have some room to say that, I guess, but more than that I am making it clear to the girls what kind of man to look for. I want them well treated, spoiled even. And I don’t mean by some lug bringing home dead animals and late birthday cards.


Jill asked me to print a photo of the girls for her desk in her classroom. It makes me so happy that she embraces my child in the same way I embrace hers. We refer to them collectively as “our daughters,” not “mine” and “yours.” If home is where the heart is, then family is those who are in your heart. Yes, bloodlines bind, but do not alone define the family. Heart strings do.

Book Report

Yesterday I shared with you the first few paragraphs of the draft introduction to my book, “Thank You: A Child’s Expressions of Gratitude.” Today I share with you the draft acknowledgment:

“A book about giving thanks to parents would not be complete with also giving thanks to my Heavenly Father. As I confessed in my introduction, I sometimes succumb to human nature and think to myself it was my research, talent and perseverance that resulted in my success as an author. The truth is, however, years ago I was lost and in despair, and I had not an ounce of experience in creative writing. One evening in a prayer I asked for help and then did my best to go forward with hope. Soon certain events began to transpire - like a friend telling me of a successful little book that eventually inspired me to write; my introduction to Janet Lankford-Moran, the photographer who helped me complete my first book; meeting Ron Pitkin, my publisher, who coincidentally but not known to me until later, was the publisher of the successful little book that got me started in the first place; and then there are all those events in my life that have been the fabric with which my stories about love, faith, forgiveness and duty are woven. And now my book about thanks, the only one that has closed with a testimonial such as this, is in your hands. Coincidence? Serendipity? Chance? I think not. I once was lost, but now I’m found. Thank you God.”

It serves no purpose to feel the gratitude if you don’t profess it, right?

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