Pebble Lane

Allegiance

2009-10-14T09:26:00.000-07:00

A recent story on the news got my full attention. It seems an apartment complex manager is trying to force the tenants to remove American flags from the property. If I am not mistaken that included flags on their personal vehicles because those vehicles are parked on the property. The so-called reasoning was because the property manager did not want to cause offense to the diverse community in the area. What new dimension have we entered? Is this or is this not the United States of America and do we not all fall under one flag - Old Glory? Does that flag not represent the 50 states that make up this great nation with 50 stars? Do these words ring any bells - "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands..."

Whether you want to include "under God" in your pledge is irrelevant to the fact that we are to pledge allegiance to that flag! No definition of diversity that I have found states that showing diversity means changing all that this nation stands for in order to oblige someone else. When people come to this country they should expect to show respect to our culture and part of that culture includes the American Flag. I suppose Lady Liberty will be the next offensive icon since, after all, she stands for freedom and is a woman - oh my goodness - aren't there cultures that don't believe women should have rights? Where have I heard of this lately? That's right - the Taliban. I can only hope we offend this particular group, and if we don't I suppose all hope is lost.

Draw a line in the sand people - it is okay to stand for something.

Survival of the Fittest

2009-08-10T04:54:00.000-07:00

I am far from the age of 65 but even so, I am very concerned about this group of people facing potential healthcare reform. Take a walk with me down Evolutionary lane for a moment. Even if you believe in Creationism, as I do, we better understand that the people making some of the decisions in Washington may have other belief systems and we better pay attention. Survival of the fittest implies that those physically stronger will survive; however, I submit that the 65 and up age group will have to be fiscally stronger to survive. This is why those making the decisions about healthcare are not personally concerned about an aging population. They know they will not be a part of the group meeting with a council about their end-of-life 'choices.' No one with an ample pocketbook will need to be concerned. They will still be able to afford the healthcare they enjoy now without change. They will not have to make a decision about remaining on dialysis or simply giving up to save a few bucks for the next generation. Wonder what Darwin would think about this new age of Evolutionists. Of course, it really isn't new at all. The rich will have and the poor will not. It is just so darn ironic that the Liberals who supposedly believe in new ideas are actually resorting to medieval ones.

Taking the Bad with the Good

2009-06-06T20:36:00.000-07:00

It's always fun when someone likes what you write. It's always dreadful when they don't. However, I am learning to take the bad with the good, learn from it and move on. I am also learning about targeted audiences for a piece of writing and how important it can be in some instances. Criticism be darned, I will continue to explore different forms of writing, different styles and pray I never find a voice that I am confined to. Wish me luck.

Earth Day - Are You Diggin' It?

2009-04-22T10:31:00.000-07:00

Earth Day is a very special day to a lot of people. Are you one of those people? Do you hear the phrases 'going green' and 'global warming' and feel a proactive vibe coursing through your body or do you wonder what in the world any of it means? I hear another phrase that I just don't get - 'Save the Earth.' I think using this phrase is useless, misleading and incorrect. It is also divisive. The global warming crowd could get a lot more people behind them if they would throw that particular phrase off the map to making our planet a better place to live. Bible believers (and yes, I am one) find it funny to see signs and read pamphlets that use the phrase, 'Save the Earth.' It isn't that we don't admire the effort but we sort of find it to be an exercise in futility since one day it will be destroyed by fire (2 Peter 3:10) - talk about your global warming.

Another and better way to approach the masses would be to find a more politically correct statement - How about "Respect the Earth" or "Enjoy the Earth" or any such phrases that would not leave Christians and other such Bible-believing religions out of the effort. After all, we like to encourage people to show respect to what God has created. Imagine the good we could do together if a more inclusive attitude was shown. We understand that it was not an intentional offense. After all, we certainly wouldn't want what happened to Miss California to begin happening to everyone else. Let me see if I understood that particular judge in the Miss America pageant correctly - simply believe what we believe and bend to our way of thinking and it will not be a problem. In line with that logic, just remove the phrase 'Save the Earth' from the discussion and I think we will all be better for it. We will get on board then, all happy delusional passengers on the Train of Life. The problem is that sometimes trains crash. If you are still reading this then you realize we just did. Yes, I misled you into thinking this article was going to be about Earth Day and derailed you halfway through. I thought if I insisted that people change their entire belief system to fit into mine that it would be a simple matter. I guess not, huh?

Writing Time

2009-04-16T05:55:00.000-07:00

Do you write? I mean, do you feel called to a blank sheet of paper to put words on it? I dream stories sometimes. Depending on how exhausted I am after a day of homeschooling my 6-year-old and chasing my 20-month-old determines if I am willing to get out of my cozy bed to write down those thoughts at 3 a.m. There are times, however, when I don't feel creative. Yesterday was one of those days. I decided to take the advice of other writers and force myself to write something, anything - will myself to write, you might say. My oldest child was sick with Strep and my youngest decided to be bored with otherwise fascinating distractions. While trying to put a description on paper about the lovely blossoms of the flowering peach tree in my neighbor's backyard, I found myself writing the following. "Delicate pink blossoms that should whisper their birth belied their innocence, instead screaming of the reckless forces of nature that brought it into being." It would seem that although some interesting lines may be formed during the process of forced writing, I am not sure that I picked the best time for this exercise. So I learned something - timing is everything and my red-headed rascal will not be ignored.

2009-04-15T19:38:00.000-07:00

There is something strangely comforting about knowing we don't have to be alone, even if the connection to others is through an electronic device.

No Gun = No Murder? Do tell...

2009-04-06T12:36:00.000-07:00

This is my social commentary put in poetic form.

He killed them all, precious as they were;
If only they had not come from her.
He loved them he said in each little ear
Before he pulled the trigger, holding them near.
Their bloodied bodies he carefully placed on a bed;
The white sheets he used now covered in red.
He knew now they would be safe
Because he sent them to a happy place.
His wife could no longer erode
His children's minds with the lies she told.
It would be her crying in the night.
It would be her saying goodnight
To nothing - to no one in the next room
Surrounded by a silent force of impending doom.
But what if he had not had a gun?
Would that have stopped what he has done?
Don't kid yourself- the man was insane.
He would have killed them just the same
He would simply have to find another device
To carry out this deed of Evil sacrifice.
But now, not a gun; instead a knife
To exact the justice due his wife.
Do you think he would have changed his mind
If only he had no gun to find?

A Diamond in the Rough

2009-04-01T18:24:00.000-07:00

The weeds were tall, striking us at knee level and some had briars that grabbed at my ankles. Dad always wore boots. The idea was to find a 1960s fixer-upper Mustang. The man who led us through the field described the one he had as needing a lot of work. By the time we got out to where it was sitting I was sweating and itching and swatting at things I couldn’t even see. This ‘car’ before us couldn’t be described as an actual vehicle as far as I was concerned. Dad, however, spoke the dreaded words I feared the most when he said it was “a diamond in the rough.” I was looking at a pile of rust with no tires, no hood, and no doors. I didn’t bother taking a closer look at the ‘interior’. While Dad stood talking with the man about every car made prior to 1975, I wondered if I would ever get a car I could drive. If this is what my Dad had in mind as a fixer-upper and we were doing the fixing up I didn’t hold out much hope to be driving it before the age of 25. At 15-3/4 years of age, the reality of the situation was beginning to set in. Thankfully, we passed on this particular gem and moved on to look for others. We found another diamond in the rough, though not as rough as previous ones. This one needed “some work,” as my Dad explained, but he drove it home after writing a check for $650.00. The original owner’s manual was in the glove box, which I still believe was the number one selling point for him. A lot of things on the car were original – the paint, the rims, the interior. You get the idea. It was going to need a lot of attention. And that’s what we gave it. I use the word ‘we’ loosely. I did what I was told to do as best I could which included a lot of sanding. My dad did most everything else on it. My little brother got stuck with a little of the sanding work, too, and my mom recovered the seats and carpet, which was no small job.

A year and a half later I had a fully restored 1966 Ford Mustang with new paint, new rims, and new interior. The rebuilt 289 V-8 had a beautiful sound to it, especially after Dad added a cam that gave it a deep “fa-da, fa-da, fa-da” sound that would make it recognized anywhere I went. This was a car that had to be driven. And it was. The time we spent on that car seemed endless. A lot of changes took place to the car and in me. My girlhood was passing me by and womanhood was just around the bend. Some of life’s little secrets became known during that time; some of life’s lessons learned.

Time changes everything. The day came when I needed something with air conditioning and disc brakes. The Mustang got parked and became a reminder of my youth. And one day, 20 years later, I began seriously thinking about selling it. It went to the right people at the right time. The sentiment meant more to me than the car itself. My Dad has never told me how he truly felt about my selling it but I hope the sentiment has meant more to him, too.

You'd Think It Would Be Easy

2009-03-27T07:25:00.000-07:00

I wrote this poem many years ago in my twenties when becoming extremely unenchanted by the views of neo-generational 'spirituality'. Making morality complicated, introducing so-called enlightened concepts or experimentation with foreign religion just for the sake of doing something new and different is in a word or two - a bunch of malarkey. The phrase, 'keep it simple stupid' may be a little crass but the truth of it shouldn't be denied. We over-think, over-complicate and over-indulge in things that are falsehoods without considering that the reality of eternity may really be as simple as saying yes to the Savior or saying no. Read the poem if you want or don't...

Walking death awaits his prey
In shadows deep, perhaps this day.
Darkness slips in - a friend of the foe
To all mankind who scream in woe
As death clutches tight, urging the release
That cannot be denied by man or beast.
Fight a good fight or quietly relent;
This rule, to be sure, will not be bent.
I've heard of ones who scream and howl
Pleading for time, begging "not now."
And the ones who find a simplistic grace
They call quietly for eternity's embrace.
I'll try as I live to remember my Maker
Does not wish to be a harshly taker.
He gives us chances to make our lives right
And to have no regrets as we go into the night.
Follow His way and death shall not prevail;
It is your choice - Will it be Heaven or Hell?

The Dealer

2009-03-26T19:04:00.000-07:00

Succumb and fall to depths unknown
Free your mind, let your spirit roam
To lands of which you have not seen
Before this trip's day of traveling.

"I don't like this place - let me free!"

Oh, but you are my dear - wait and see.
Bid your time, all will come to a stop
And you'll beg me then for one more drop;
Or perhaps some powder for your nose,
A prick in the arm or atop the toes.
Under the tongue may be the spot
But I promise you dear it's the best of the lot.
Fear not your sacred dignity; shed no tears for your children there-
I am your new family, your little ones will be under my care.
How, oh how, do you think they'll fare?

Tea for Two

2009-03-20T12:08:00.000-07:00

"I told her she better never speak to me that way again and she looked at me as though I had two heads! Why, I have never been so offended. If she had made a simple suggestion in good taste I might have been willing to... Oh, don't look at me that way. I really might have been willing to listen to her and..."

Collette cleared her throat as quietly as possible but June-Marie heard it.

"Okay, you're right Collette. I wouldn't have taken her up on the ridiculous suggestion, but I would have at least feigned interest in it. Now you're laughing at me and shaking your head! Don't get me angry at you over the matter. At least give me credit for being in the right on the issue. Come now, give me my due." She waited impatiently for a response. "Well?"

"Oh, is it my turn to speak? Well then, my dear June-Marie, I might agree that while your point is duly noted and would be by most anyone of good sense and good taste, I am not so sure the offense was intended. Do you think she really meant ..."

"Well! I cannot believe my own ears. I cannot believe you would not stand by me on this. You are my best friend and my only confidante. You are supposed to agree with me, not take sides with the shrew who caused the treachery against me!"

It was clear to Collette that that her dear "friend" was not to be reasoned with. She placed her teacup and saucer gently upon the table before her, taking care that it should not rattle about. She felt there was enough rattling going on inside her friend's head for the moment.

"June-Marie, please sit down and quit pacing about. You are right, as I said. I do hate to see you so worked up. Won't you sit. Please sit. Come now and let us discuss other matters. What about your letter from your cousin in St. Louis? Tell me again what she had to say about the new boutique and the ..."

"What? The what? Oh, the boutique." June-Marie sat down uneasily, on the edge of her chair as though preparing herself to spring back up again. Collette so hoped she would relax. She looked positively red, as her face was so terribly flushed. Her cheeks were already quite plump with fat and now that they were red they looked like two ripened tomatoes just ready to be plucked from the vine. Her eyes were wide and wild. If she only knew how ugly she was when brought to anger. At least now she was sitting and rambling on about the boutique, although Collette had heard this news twice before. As Collette sat listening to June-Marie go on about the same old tiresome story she had heard over and over again, she felt herself become increasingly agitated. After all, she had been listening to her tantrum for an hour, trying to appease a woman who considered herself a friend, when in no way did she ever truly return the favor in kind. As she listened once again about June-Marie's cousin making the "most amazing discovery" of the "most quaint little boutique ever" she felt herself becoming awash with anger. Why was she spending her afternoon with a woman who became offended by the opinion of her own decorator when that's exactly what she paid her for?

"... and that brings me to that wretch, Carlene, the so-called decorator, who will never work for me again. I still cannot believe she suggested plaids in the ..."

"June-Marie, dear. I do hate to interrupt, but I just remembered I have an appointment this afternoon with a very dear friend. She's due here any minute and we have had this planned for quite some time now. You do understand, don't you? Thank you for being a dear. Well, I'm not pushing you out the door, it's just that I do have these other plans and I had no idea you would be stopping by today. Why don't you simply take the rest of your cake with you? I'm sure it will keep if you wrap it in your napkin. I'm afraid you'll have to leave the teacup, dear. Don't forget your gloves or your purse. Oh, yes, I'm sure we'll get together again soon. I'll call on you next time. It will be absolutely no trouble at all for me to come to you. In fact, I insist on it. Good-bye. Good-bye. What's that? Did you ask who's coming this afternoon? That would be my dear friend, Carlene, the decorator you just fired."

Collette watched June-Marie's cheeks turn even redder before the color settled into a deep shade of brick. Those tomatoes were beginning to rot. She marched down the front steps and to her car, slamming the door hard when she got in. Collette knew she would get a phone call from Patricia later, as June-Marie was surely headed to her house next, especially since it was on her way home. Patricia would ask why she didn't keep her there and just let her stew until she felt vindicated, but Collette would give the only answer she could, "It's not my turn."

The End

Generational Welfare

2009-03-17T20:12:00.000-07:00

To be an ant upon a hill-
A laborer to which none can compare.
What more should we expect from one
Who can brush his teeth and comb his hair?

Beyond the Gate

2009-03-17T14:48:00.001-07:00

She stood there looking down at her feet. They were filled with a sudden heaviness that wouldn't allow her to move forward. The heaviness was beginning to travel up, beyond the level of her ankles, into her calves and even up to her knees. 'Move damn you,' she commanded the disobedient limbs. They behaved as though they belonged to one of the people standing behind her instead of a part of her own body. The small group behind her stood silently, waiting. Never would they think of pushing her forward; all of them giving her time. Time for what? What could she do with time now? What would she want to do with it? She could be promised tomorrows for an eternity but those tomorrows would offer no more solace than the moment she was in.

Two days ago well-meaning words spoken by well-meaning people began. She was more interested in the ones who whispered in the corners, though. She saw them. Their eyes said what their quiet tongues tried to hide from her. She hated the people and what they had to say. Maybe that's why her legs had become too heavy to move. 'Just take one step and show them all that you have no fear,' she told herself. That's really what it all boiled down to. They had all pushed for so many years, pushing her... and him. They had all forced their way in; for money or power or reasons of revenge. Now it didn't matter. 'So make up your mind and just go. Don't let them get the best of you.'

A man with a Bible and a starchy collar approached her left side. "Shall we go in now?" It was more of suggestion than a question. She looked up and out beyond the gate. Lovely trees lined the path that led to the silence of another world. It looked like a path they might have enjoyed walking together but one she would now walk alone.

"Yes," she answered. She meant it. She could go in. She must go in. She would go in. Lowering a netted veil over her face, she took that first step beyond the gate. Her husband would be buried by afternoon's end.

Ramblings of one with an inferiority complex or maybe just ... ramblings

2009-03-13T17:40:00.001-07:00

Do I really have anything to say? Maybe. Maybe not. Will you stay with me a while until I know? Will you hold my hand while I wait... wait for the words to come? Will you be there when frustration wraps itself around me? Will you catch the misspoken phrases that slip away from the keys on my keyboard and threaten to reveal my ineptitude? Will you smile affectionately when I cause embarrassment? Will you still exist when I inspire you to leave me by pushing your limits to complete disdain for me? Will you really? - Shall I wait for you a while until you know?

The Divorced Woman

2009-03-12T18:40:00.000-07:00

"Never" loved, always wanting,

ever needy, greedy and blind.

Always blaming, never at fault

ever believing the delusions of her mind.

Pity and woefulness dominate her days,

anger and resentment fill her nights;

Scorn and self-righteousness, her armor of security

A sharp tongue without regard her sword and might.

Blindly she enters war every morning,

fighting battles she cannot win.

The enemy strikes back with equal tenacity,

she sits weary at the evenings end -

Tomorrow, tomorrow she'll fight again.

MustangSally09 (srp)

The Hot Day

2009-03-12T12:47:00.000-07:00

The endless chatter of Rita 'whats-her-name' had been almost too much to bear in the heat of the day. She couldn't stop talking about her ex-husband and his new girlfriend, as though I cared. We stood outside the grocery store, hands on our buggies and soaking up the heat off the pavement. I think I told her I had ice cream in the cart but she didn't seem to mind. I just wanted to get in my car and blast myself with some air conditioning. Besides, I had a hot date with my husband in two hours and had plenty to do before he got home.

Finally Rita saw somebody else she had to tell the same story to and off she went. I was left feeling like I had been stood up all of a sudden. It wasn't that I didn't have better things to do but she dropped me like a hot potato and I was the one wanting to leave! Sweat now rolling down my back and everywhere else for that matter meant I would be freezing five minutes down the road after the air kicked in. It didn't matter. I just needed to get home, get cleaned up and get dinner ordered for two. No way was I going to actually cook!

Everything was coming together pretty well; and then... Why is there always an "and then" or a "but" or something to bring the whole plan crashing down? It wouldn't be an evening without one.

...and then my husband comes in from work - he's hot and bothered allright but it had nothing to do with my $59.00 lingerie. It seems the office where he works was without power for a while (did I mention it was hot?) and something happened to something important and now he would have to go back to work for a couple hours. Translation - he would be there half the night. He was happy to see me but in a "that would have been a really good idea some other time" kind of way. At least we got to sit down to dinner together before he had to go. Wouldn't you know it - the food was cold.