Friday, November 6, 2009

Old Life

Not often, but every once in a while, I go there. Especially this time of year, close to the time she left. Probably not a good idea, but my SH (sweet hubby) understands the heartbreak, the heartache, and it's nice to have a shoulder to cry on, someone to just listen.

It seems to come out mostly at night. And, before I know it, I am weeping. No one can fix it, well, except God in His own time. But, time does truly hang heavy when you are missing two of your family members.

One I carried under my heart for nearly ten months, happily enduring her every hiccup and mule-like kick in utero, before finally giving life to her over her loud protests. The other, my first grandchild, totally captivated my heart and I still remember the laughter and giggles when as a toddler he delightedly rubbed red Jello into his hair and on any other person who happened by.

But sadly, no matter how perfectly we may plan it, life doesn't always turn out so perfectly. And, so she walked out of my life one day and took my grandson with her.

Eleven years is a long time to never see your child's or your grandchild's face or hear their voice.

I missed all her twenties, and I often wonder what she looks like now at age 33. Is she still my beautiful, blue-eyed beauty? Or, like me, has she aged due to the loss?

And, Jacob? Sad to think he could pass me on the street and I would never know him or he know me. Yet, even when he was so very little he loved me. He knew I would try and protect him. I only hope he forgives me because I wasn't able to.

No matter what, Life just shouldn't be this way.

It's far too short even if one lives to be 100.

I love you, Melissa and Jacob.

I always will.



Tuesday, November 3, 2009

It's a new dawn; a new day!

Sorry for my lack of posts, but I've been busy lately, not only because I've been on my honeymoon but also settling into a new and different life as my SH's (sweet husband) wife! :-) Yup, only goes to show you there's hope to find the "love of your life" even late in life.


I tell my SH (sweet husband), it isn't his fault he is so thoroughly captivated by me. (He even loves that I am complex, go figure!) LOL No, it's that I prayed so long for a mate that would love me more than he loves himself, and God sent me just that. :-) I couldn't be happier or more content and the best part is, it's reciprocal.


So, the moral of this story is never, ever give up on finding your perfect (for you) mate, no matter how old you are.

Blessings to all, and I promise to post more frequently.



Thursday, July 23, 2009

BILLY GRAHAM’S PRAYER FOR OUR NATION

Truth...from a man the media has never been able to throw dirt on!!He has certainly hit the "world" on the head!!! Billy Graham's Prayer For Our Nation THIS MAN SURE HAS A GOOD VIEW OF WHAT'S HAPPENING TO OUR COUNTRY!

'Heavenly Father, we come before you today to ask your forgiveness and to seek your direction and guidance.


We know Your Word says, 'Woe to those who call evil good,' but that is exactly what we have done.


We have lost our spiritual equilibrium and reversed our values.


We have exploited the poor and called it the lottery.


We have rewarded laziness and called it welfare.


We have killed our unborn and called it choice.


We have shot abortionists and called it justifiable.


We have neglected to discipline our children and called it building self esteem.


We have abused power and called it politics.


We have coveted our neighbor's possessions and called it ambition.


We have polluted the air with profanity and pornography and called it freedom of expression.


We have ridiculed the time-honored values of our forefathers and called it enlightenment.


Search us, Oh God, and know our hearts today; cleanse us from every sin and set us free.

In Jesus' Name, Amen!'


Commentator Paul Harvey aired this prayer on his radio program, 'The Rest of the Story,' and received a larger response to this program than any other he has ever aired. With the Lord's help, may this prayer sweep over our nation and wholeheartedly become our desire so that we again can be called 'One nation under God.'


Think about this: If you forward this prayer to everyone on your e-mail list, in less than 30 days it would be heard by the world. (It's worth a try!) One Nation Under God


Monday, June 8, 2009

Sunset

I know I've posted this before, but thought it worthy of repeating.

Sunset

At dawn, I waited patiently on the Eastern shore,
and felt the sea spray on my face, hoping.
But, you never came.

At noon, I looked for you with shaded eyes
and a heart full of love, beyond the blue horizon, praying.
But nothing

At dusk, with heavy heart like the sinking sun that settles in the West
over the ocean waves, it came to me.
You would not come now, or ever.

At night, as clouds veiled the quartermoon with darkness,
it was then I realized with great sadness
what could have been was gone now and forever.

Copyright ©2009 Deborah Gibson Taylor

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Back from...

well, not sure where I was for a couple of days there. A doctor would call it delirious from food poisoning, I call it pure misery. (And, yes, this is puce-colored intentionally.)

But, I am over it now thanks to one of my alternative medicines which cuts the recovery time by half. Thank G-d.

I've only had food poisoning twice in my life, but really once is enough, thank you.

The first was about eleven years ago, while in training at my then corporate office in Greenwich, CT. I made the mistake of eating in the company's cafeteria, so by evening, to put it nicely, my misery had "gone forth" and "multiplied" if you know what I mean.

But, I remembered having read in one of my alternative therapies magazines about a month earlier, an article about a product one should "always have on hand in case of food poisoning." Luckily, I readily recalled the name of the product.

Determined to buy some, I then made my way very carefully, if not uber cautiously, to the local GNC at the Westchester Mall, which adjoined my hotel.

It really was a slow, slow, stop-and-go trip. Passerbys probably thought I was strung out on something or drunk as I was holding to walls, the rails, anything to help me stay vertical.

Although GNC no longer makes a generic brand of this product, at that time they had an offer on them I couldn't refuse...buy one ounce-size bottle, get one free (BOGO). Well, massive misery calls for massive amounts of antidotes, no? So, I decided to buy four bottles.

Fortunately, I made it back to the hotel without passing out or passing anything else, when the waves of misery started to hit me again.

As a new employee, I was desperate not to miss work, wasn't sure anyone would believe any excuse I could give, I was so new.

So, when I got back to the hotel room, I opened a bottle and downed it in record time. Heck, I figured if a teaspoon was good an ounce would be better. Besides, what could I lose? I mean I had already lost everything, both upstairs and down. LOL

Well, anyway, about an hour later, I was filled with awe and wonder when I awoke and realized I was still alive and surprised to no longer feel like I was going to die. So, on my next trip to the porcelain "g-d(dess)", I downed another bottle of that blessed nectar.

By this time, I was determined to be either cured or just simply die. (If any of you have had food poisoning, you understand this totally.) A couple hours later when I awoke, I drank another bottle.

Long story, short: By five a.m., I, who had been in a fetal position all night when not bowing to the porcelain "g-d(dess)" was not only completely better, but was able to walk and talk!

Miracles of miracles, it actually worked!

Since then I try to never be without this little liquid miracle (it is non-alcoholic). I keep it if for no other reason than for food poisoning alone, but it is also great for a myriad of things like sinus, colds, flu, ear aches, etc.

I've even used it (in moderation) on my grandbabies, keeping them happily healthy and practically antibiotic free. In fact, I find it works even better than most antibiotics.

Thanks goodness! Otherwise, I'd still be in the bed or on the floor. ;-)

But, honestly folks, some of the best advice I can give you: Never make a "run for the border" unless you want to "run" for the border. LOL

Be well, ya'll.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

The Morris Harvey House Bed & Breakfast

By now you all know how shamelessly I promote West Virginia, and rightly so. After all, it's scenic beauty is nearly unsurpassed as evidenced by the picture of the New River Gorge Bridge, at the top of this blog.


I've also had inquiry into where is the best places to stay in the area. Fortunately, in recent years, there have been several hotels built in the area. But, if you really want to get the true flavor of a quaint, small town like Fayetteville, WV, I think your needs would be better served by one of the B & B's there.

My pick is The Morris Harvey House Bed & Breakfast and there are many reasons why. But, I'll let you read for yourself all about the historic B & B taken directly from one of the Charleston Newspapers:



Innkeeper trades city life for return to roots
The house that Harvey built
By Julie Robinson
Staff writer

New River Gorge landowner Morris Harvey built a gracious home in Fayetteville that now serves as a welcome retreat for whitewater rafters and other guests.


FAYETTEVILLE - As midlife changes go, it was a pretty big one.
Bernie Kania grew up in Oak Hill, but had lived and worked in Virginia Beach, Va., for nearly 30 years, when he decided to chuck his engineering job to purchase and run a bed-and-breakfast in Fayetteville.


Owner Elizabeth Bush placed Morris Harvey House - the bed-and-breakfast she and her husband, George Soros - had painstakingly restored in 1993 on the market in 2007. Since Soros' death in 1998, she had accepted guests in gradually smaller numbers.


Recently divorced, Kania was considering a change of pace and remembered the house from his youth. When one of his two sons chose to attend Kania's alma mater, West Virginia University, instead of a Virginia school, Kania bought the Morris Harvey House and moved to Fayetteville.
At 52, he started his new life as an innkeeper.


"It's definitely a change of scenery and career," he said. "I just wanted to do something different. I've been involved with the public before, but this is the best public job there could be. When everyone comes here, they're on vacation. They're already happy."


The house was built in 1902 by Morris Harvey with the fortune he amassed selling coal and railroad rights on his steep property bordering the New River Gorge.


Harvey built the Queen Anne-style house in which he and his wife, Rosa, lived until he died in 1908. The Harveys had no children, and Rosa Harvey passed the house on to the Methodist Church, of which they were devoted members, when she died. It served as a parsonage until the 1950s, when various families owned and lived in it, until Bush and Soros converted it to a bed and breakfast.


The inn's immaculate 14 rooms contain seven vibrantly colored Italian marble-fronted fireplaces, each in a different color scheme. All the coal fireplaces are outfitted in ornate black iron surrounds and fittings. Two of them were converted to gas to give a warm glow to chilled guests.


Guests are frequently whitewater rafters who enjoy the comforts Kania provides after a strenuous day on the river. Kania replaced the sitting room's antique furniture with overstuffed soft leather couch and chair and added a television, the only one in the house.


Kania shows his guests around small-town Fayetteville and fills them in on the town's diverse restaurant options. He kept the house open this winter for the first time this year, and hosted a steady stream of guests.


"We're busier in the summer during rafting season," he said. "I joke with the rafters that if there's a woman in the group and they're trying to decide between us and a hotel, I get the business."


Morris Harvey House has five guest areas, including a third-floor sloped-ceiling loft with two bedrooms and one full bathroom. "People tell me that it reminds them of when they visited their grandparents' house when they were younger and played in their attic," Kania said.


The master bedroom, called Rosa's Suite, is tucked behind the first-floor sitting room. Its private bathroom includes an antique claw-foot bathtub and raised water closet toilet - charming and efficient. Beside the bed in the bedroom sits a small sink, an original fixture. The sink's water was supplied by an 800-gallon copper cistern on the second floor, which provided some of the earliest running water in town, Kania said. The cistern no longer functions, but it's visible through a window cut into an upstairs hallway wall.


The house was built without a kitchen on the premises. Hot and noisy cooking chores were conducted in the detached cook house, which Kania converted into his own residence. "I'm close enough if a guest needs anything, but far enough away to give them their privacy," he said.
Vinyl siding outside clearly differentiates the kitchen as an addition to the wood-clad house.
The distinction is required by the National Register of Historic Places, on which the house is listed.


Guests gather around the dining room's spacious oak table where Kania serves homemade breakfasts such as pineapple upside-down French toast or breakfast parfaits with yogurt, fresh fruit and granola. A typical breakfast also includes an egg dish, assorted breads or his homemade pineapple banana bread.


"I grew up in large Polish family. Breakfast was always a big deal," he said. "I'm just carrying on that tradition."


Kania runs the bed-and-breakfast with a little help from his family. He calls his 21-year-old son B.J. his "housekeeping manager." B.J., who has Down syndrome, is a whiz with linens and towels.



Although none of his three sisters lives in-state, they've each contributed their special talents toward the house. Sheila, his sister in Pennsylvania with an eye for antiques, purchases furnishings for the house. The house came with some furnishings, but Kania's changed and added others. The only original piece from Morris and Rosa Harvey's days is a bench in the front hall.
His sister Barbara and her husband, Tom, of Winchester, Va., help with house maintenance and gardening. Tom tends the formal gardens that can be viewed from the comfortable furniture on the inn's wraparound porch, as well as the rest of the grounds. A fleur-de-lis pattern from the stained-glass windows is repeated in the garden design.



Brenda, his sister in Florida, bakes breads and muffins, often with freshly picked mangoes, which she ships north for his guests' breakfasts.



Upstairs, the Library is the most modest bedroom and lacks a private bathroom. Kania named it in reference to the room's extensive bookshelves. The black and gold Harvey Room down the hall has a half bath and shares a full with the Library occupants.



The Grand Suite features a private bath. All the bedrooms are furnished with antiques, with occasional concessions to modern tastes. "Most antique beds are three-quarter-sized, which is too small for most people today. Our beds are queen-sized," Kania said.



A sign on the door advises visitors that if Kania doesn't answer, he'll be back shortly. He usually isn't too far away. The post office, bank, barber and library are all within a block of home. The small-town charm and convenience provide a welcome change from Virginia Beach, which grew too congested and crowded for Kania's taste.


"I think my friends in Virginia Beach probably think I'm crazy, but I have everything I need right here," he said. "I like the mountains and the green spaces. It was good to get away from the city and into a more country environment."




For more information or reservations, please visit: http://www.morrisharveyhouse.com/

Sunday, May 10, 2009

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY


Before I was myself you made me, me
With love and patience, discipline and tears,
Then bit by bit stepped back to set me free,
Allowing me to sail upon my sea,
Though well within the headlands of your fears.
Before I was myself you made me, me
With dreams enough of what I was to be
And hopes that would be sculpted by the years,
Then bit by bit stepped back to set me free,
Relinquishing your powers gradually
To let me shape myself among my peers.
Before I was myself you made me, me,
And being good and wise, you gracefully
As dancers when the last sweet cadence nears
Bit by bit stepped back to set me free.
For love inspires learning naturally:
The mind assents to what the heart reveres.
And so it was through love you made me, me
By slowly stepping back to set me free.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon

Saturday, April 25, 2009

A SHADOW OF A LIFE by Deborah Gibson Taylor

Prologue

1954

Just off Highway A1A, near St. Augustine, Florida, on a cold December day, a rusted, worn out ’48 Oldsmobile Straycat Convertible with its V-8 engine roared like a rocket into the red clay, earth-packed driveway in front of a shotgun shanty. The warped brakes screeched loudly as the shuttered and stopped. The sky, the color of pewter, looked ominous and foreboding with the dark clouds pregnant with the promise of rain.

The tired young woman threw open the heavy car door and stepped out. A cold wind coming off the Atlantic Ocean reminded her to pull her collar up to her earlobes for added warmth. The trim figure was neatly dressed in dark blue work overalls, with crisply starched creases, her name neatly embroidered in pink on the white background of the oval label, right under the Grumman Factory name.

Shivering, she reached beside her on the front seat and drew the large, wriggling, blue-eyed baby boy close to her heart, giving him another kiss and reassuring hug while sliding a blue hand-crocheted blanket over his black curls to protect him from the cold.

Once out of the car, the diminutive woman balanced the cherub-faced boy on her hip, readjusting the blanket each time the wind blew it off. Still clutching her precious bundle in her arms, knee bent, her small foot flat against the car door, she quickly slammed it shut.

With a steely look of determination on her face, and her last small burst of energy, she cautiously made her way up the wooden steps carefully avoiding all the rotted boards and stepped gingerly onto the weathered, dilapidated front porch.

In response to her urgent knock, the screen door already half off its hinges, with patches stitched on it as neatly as needlepoint, made a loud, protesting screech as the drunken, unkempt, middle-aged man threw it open.

“What the?” he said startled to see his pretty, dark-haired ex-wife at the door with the youngest of their four children in her arms. Standing there in front of him, Barbara had such an innocent doe-eyed look about her it almost made him wish he hadn’t divorced her.

But before he could say anything more, his Mother, a large, rotund Russian Orthodox Jew, lumbered up behind him. Looking with sheer contempt at the pretty young woman standing before her, she opened her arms wide and grinned at the beautiful, robust baby boy, all the while cooing at him.

Mo recognizing his beloved "Babushka," takes his drool-covered fingers out of his mouth long enough to give her a crooked smile, flashing several pearly while teeth on the bottom row, then pops them back in.

“Here!” “Take him!” “I can’t take care of him no more, Jim,” the look of sheer desperation on her face. “ I’m workin long hours now, and what with you not givin me any money, I can barely feed the other three as it is.” “So, here!” Barbara burst into sobs as she thrust eighteen month-old Mo into his paternal grandmother’s eagerly awaiting arms. The baby now startled by his Mother's loud voice begins to cry.

Barbara’s voice softened a bit looking at the toothless, old woman showering her youngest grandson with hugs and kisses, murmuring something reassuring to him in Yiddish, the only language the recent immigrant knew.

“Jim, I know your Mom’s never liked me much, but I know she loves Mo.” “She’ll take good care of him,” she said more to reassure herself than anyone else.

Sobbing, she leans over and kisses Mo on the head, habitually rearranging one of his wayward black curls one last time.

Running off the porch in tears, she glances over her shoulder and shouts “I love you, Mo.” “I’ll come back and git you as soon as I can!”

And, with that she climbs back into the still-running Olds, puts the car in drive, and sped away as quickly as she came, leaving a cloud of red dust and a part of her heart behind.

Copyright © 2006 Deborah Gibson Taylor


Thursday, April 23, 2009

Reflection

Did you ever wish you could simply start over again? At anything. Life, for instance. Maybe that's why some people choose to believe in reincarnation because they want a chance to do it all over again, but this time do it right? I can understand why they want to believe it. Ever heard the saying "hindsight is 20/20?" Whoever said it wasn't kidding, in fact, they were right on. As you get older, it's such an amazing discovery looking back at your own personal winding "roadmap" that is/was something called your life. So many wrong turns in the bend, so many wrong choices. Sad, really. Some lessons are hard to learn, no? But, then again there were several MAJOR right ones, too. For example, my divorce, although nearly twenty years overdue, not for one minute have I regretted it. Then there's NOT accepting a transfer to New Orleans in 2000. I must admit I'm glad I wasn't in Hurricane Katrina, right in the midst of all that chaos and devastation. But now all the wrong choices are categorized as "regrets" in my mind and they are bitter pills to swallow. Perhaps the greatest one of all is how I've used my time. In the past I've been so willing to give my time to others, others who either haven't appreciated it or couldn't have cared less. So, now it's time I concentrate on what is most important to me and that is my writing. It's time to brush off the dust that has been collecting on my novel and finally get it finished. It's time to set up the scenes for my second one, and do the research for the trilogy of books I plan thereafter. Hmmm, all of it neatly stored away in my brain, patiently waiting for the time to birth it. From the pangs of remorse I've been feeling lately, somehow I think it's way overdue.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

She's Not Me!

She's Not Me!
You can reach for the moon,
hitch your wagon to a star,
then run as far
as you think you can from me
still no matter how much you wish it to be...
she's not me!
She sprinkled stardust in your eyes,
but my love can mesmerize.
Go ahead try and flee
all my haunting memories,
but just remember...
she's not me!
She may touch you with her voice
that's totally your choice,
but what can really set you free
is your depth of love for me
and just remember...
she's not me!
By Deborah Gibson Taylor Copyright 2006

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Trust In Him

Drink it up, soak it in.
Where life begins, where life ends.
Don't be afraid of the great unknown
God's forever on His throne.
So lift your face to Heav'n above,
always basking in His love.
Peace He gives, Peace He brings,
try and not worry 'bout anything.
For God is with us from beginning to end,
all my trust I place in Him.
Copyright © 2009 Deborah Gibson Taylor

Saturday, April 18, 2009

"Miracle" by Christian Artist Darlene Zschech

MIRACLE
Never give up, never give in
Never look back
C'mon now my friend
You're not alone
The hope of tomorrow is calling
There's a brighter day
On the other side
But it's up to you to put back on your stride
So get up, step out, live it
Honey don't you give up
It's time for you to start to breathe again
For the sun and the moon have never stopped
Shining on you my friend
I know you feel the world has passed you by
But the greatness in you is starting to rise
Faded dreams need to be recoloured
I know you've had it bad
But it's time to dream again
Write it down my friend
Make it plain Oh yeah
That desire you hold
It will see the light of day
There's a beautiful day
On the other side
But it's up to you to put back on your stride
So get up, step out, live it
Honey don't you give up
What's it gonna take for you to see
That it's only the grace of God
That will set you free
What's it gonna take for you to
Open up your eyes
Look beyond the skies
Faded dreams need to be recoloured
I know you've had it bad
But it's time to live again
Write it down my friend
Make it plain oh Yeh
That desire you hold
It will see the light of day
Never, never, no never give up
Time to breathe again
Time to dream again
This desire you hold
It will see the light of lay
Never give up, never give in
Never look backC'mon now my friend
You're not alone
The hope of tomorrow is calling

Friday, April 17, 2009

Sunset


Sunset

At dawn, I waited patiently on the Eastern shore,

and felt the sea spray on my face, hoping.

But, you never came.

At noon, I looked for you with shaded eyes

and a heart full of love, beyond the blue horizon, praying.

But nothing

At dusk, with heavy heart like the sinking sun that settles in the West

over the ocean waves, it came to me.

You would not come now, or ever.

At night, as clouds veiled the quartermoon with darkness,

it was then I realized with great sadness

what could have been was gone now and forever.



Copyright ©2009 Deborah Gibson Taylor

Monday, April 13, 2009

Beautiful Thought

What greater thing is there for two souls, than to feel that they are joined for life-to strenghthen each other in all labor, to rest on each other in all sorrow, to minister to each other in all pain, to be one with each other in silent unspeakable memories at the moment of the last parting..




by George Eliot

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Saturday, April 11, 2009

BELOVED

Beloved

Don't punish me for loving you,
for such cannot be helped.
Don't be angry or abuse me,
for a torment Fate has dealt.
I'm at the Hands of Mercy,
no other will ever do.
My heart sold out, betrayed me,
that someone, Love, is you!
Say you spare me from the anguish,
protect me from the grief?
But I say it's far too late,
our love was far too brief.
For I loved you before this disease,
I loved you from the start.
And now is such a cruel time
to break my heart apart.
Don't punish me for loving you,
by pushing me away.
Just hold me tightly in your arms,
and forever with me stay.

Deborah Gibson Taylor

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

LOST GIFT OF TIME - HAPPY BIRTHDAY MELISSA

For those of you who know me personally, you know what a tragedy happened to me over ten years ago. Due to undescribable circumstance, I lost my youngest daughter, Melissa, and my oldest grandson, Jacob, not to death but to TRUTH. There isn't a day that goes by I don't mourn them, yet I've finally learned to smile again, am actually able to look at pictures without the stabbing pain in my heart. Her birthday is March 9th, the same as my Mother's. This original poem, written by me, is dedicated to her. Happy Belated Birthday, Baby!



Gift of Time

I've grown old and weary
in your defeaning absence
waiting for your presence.
And,I am disappointed.
At every turn, and every bend
I hear your voice, see your face
Full of beauty, full of grace.
And, I am reminded.
Often I tremble, my hands shake
Recalling fond memories of you
but always old ones, never new
And, I weep.
My heart is heavy, my eyes tear
when I realize dearest daughter
how much I miss your laughter,
And, our lost gift of time.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

INAUGURATION DAY!

Watching the inauguration events unfold today, I am once again reminded of what a great nation America truly is, and am so very proud to be a citizen.


This is the eleventh inauguration I have experienced during my lifetime (yes, you do the math, I am getting up there - lol). During each President's inauguration, I can't help but be proud as our new president comes forefront and center to accept the reigns of power, NOT because the new President was either black or white, Democrat or Republican, but simply because we see demonstrated the Republic working exactly as our forefathers envisioned and planned.

Perfect execution each and every time.

That's a lot to be proud of America. God bless America, and her 44th President!

Thursday, January 1, 2009

PRAYERS

I have many wonderful pen pals in Israel, some I have written to for over seven years. Writing to them that for that length of time, I feel as if they are a part of my family, as well as a part of my heart. I ask those of you who believe in the power of prayer as I do, to please be in prayer for them. Pray for the peace of Jerusalem and the safety of Israel and her people. Contrary to popular (news media) diatribe who say they are hawks, in fact it is Israel who is the peacemaker.

What is not being told is the reason why it became necessary for Israel to retaliate. Their citizens in the south were being constantly bombarded with various missiles daily for months during the so-called peace agreement with Hamas. Israelis living in that area couldn't go about their daily lives, properties were being destroyed, and casualties inflicted. Makes one wonder why these things are never reported in the media?

For people in the U.S. it would be like Mexico or Canada raining bombs and missiles upon us. Would we stand for that? I pray not! Thus, Israel's response. As far as I am concerned it is way overdue. And, like Israel I am sorry it has come to this especially inflicting civilian casualties, but it is interesting what Israel does before they bomb. They actually notify the occupants of the house or building before they attack.

Well, my little friend in Israel can report it far better than I, and I hope she won't mind my borrowing an excerpt now and again.


Just to give people an idea of how the Israeli Air Force works, they use a method called "Knocking On The Roof". There are several steps...

1. The AF calls the house they're about to hit that they are about to bomb it.

2. The residents send all the women and children to the roof of the building with the understanding that the AF won't strike civilians.

3. The AF has developed a small missile that creates a small non-lethal explosion without shrapnel to scare off all the civilians.

4. When they have left the area the building is hit with the big guns.

5:01 PM IDF called Nazir Rayan to tell him that they were about to bomb the site. He decided to stay in the house with his family and people. 10-16 killed in the attack.

But tell me please, how many people does Hamas warn before they carry out their grisly, deadly attacks?

So, pray please!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

To all my family, friends, and readers: May this new year bring you joy, peace, good health, laughter and prosperity.

Plan to make 2009 the best year ever!

Blessings!