This is a picture of the November 22, 2007 Thanksgiving table at Ora Kay's house on Thursday. As has been our tradition for at least the past 10 years, since Inez and I have lived in Nashville we have gone to Ora Kay's for Thanksgiving Day. Patty, Ora Kay, Inez and I had a wonderful day, ate too much, watch football, played with Cymba and was thankful for all we have been given and the time together.Monday, November 26, 2007
Thanksgiving Tradition
This is a picture of the November 22, 2007 Thanksgiving table at Ora Kay's house on Thursday. As has been our tradition for at least the past 10 years, since Inez and I have lived in Nashville we have gone to Ora Kay's for Thanksgiving Day. Patty, Ora Kay, Inez and I had a wonderful day, ate too much, watch football, played with Cymba and was thankful for all we have been given and the time together.
KENTUCKY vs TENNESSEE Weekend
Inez and Abby are getting ready to watch the KENTUCKY vs TENNESSEE football game (11/24/2007). Boy, what a game it turned out to be, 52-50, in 4 overtimes that now puts UT playing LSU in the SEC Championship game on Saturday, December 1st.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Fall in Tennessee
On November 15, 2007 this is what fall colors look like on Oak Creek Drive in Nashville.
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A look from our driveway.
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A look from the side of our house.
Georgia Governor Prays for Rain on Capital Steps
Isn't this wonderful that a Governor would lead the way to publicly asking God for an answer to this problem.
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Governor takes Georgia's drought to a higher power
Updated: ("Nov 13, 2007 4:24 PM EST"); Nov 13, 2007 03:24 PM CST
November 13, 2007
Atlanta -- Governor Sonny Perdue, other state leaders, and ministers gathered at the state capitol to pray for rain, as many Georgia lakes and rivers are at their lowest levels ever recorded.
Short on rain, today Georgia's top officials said a prayer. "You visit the earth and water it, you greatly enrich it." said Perdue.
"The River of God is full." At Byne Memorial Baptist Church, during their daily devotion they echoed the Governor's need for rain. "To call on God when you need anything is a good thing to do and it's a perfectly natural thing to do, and I'm glad we're doing it and I'm glad we can be part of it down here," said Byne's Director of Music, Steve Williams.
In fact, Williams sent Governor Perdue a letter of support. Here in south Georgia, the Flint River is nearly at it's base level, down 75 percent from where the river should normally flow.
"In terms of our rainfall, we're certainly way behind where we should be for a normal year. In southwest Georgia we're anywhere from 18 to 30 inches below our normal rainfall," says Mark Masters of the Georgia Water Planning and Policy Center.
Of course the Flint River remain at record low levels, in fact I managed to make it half way across the river in a suit and dress shoes, and the statistics are even worse. "There have only been 300, 350 days during that 106 year span where we've seen flows lower than what we have right now," said Masters.
What's worse is without rain, not just showers, but substantial rainfall, Georgia stands to enter 2008 drier than the state was in 2001 and come next spring, some Georgia farmers may find themselves without water for their crops.
While ground water levels remain abundant in south Georgia, the Georgia Water Planning and Policy Center encourages everyone to conserve water.
From WALB-TV, Albany, Georgia
________________________________________________
Governor takes Georgia's drought to a higher power
Updated: ("Nov 13, 2007 4:24 PM EST"); Nov 13, 2007 03:24 PM CST
November 13, 2007
Atlanta -- Governor Sonny Perdue, other state leaders, and ministers gathered at the state capitol to pray for rain, as many Georgia lakes and rivers are at their lowest levels ever recorded.
Short on rain, today Georgia's top officials said a prayer. "You visit the earth and water it, you greatly enrich it." said Perdue.
"The River of God is full." At Byne Memorial Baptist Church, during their daily devotion they echoed the Governor's need for rain. "To call on God when you need anything is a good thing to do and it's a perfectly natural thing to do, and I'm glad we're doing it and I'm glad we can be part of it down here," said Byne's Director of Music, Steve Williams.
In fact, Williams sent Governor Perdue a letter of support. Here in south Georgia, the Flint River is nearly at it's base level, down 75 percent from where the river should normally flow.
"In terms of our rainfall, we're certainly way behind where we should be for a normal year. In southwest Georgia we're anywhere from 18 to 30 inches below our normal rainfall," says Mark Masters of the Georgia Water Planning and Policy Center.
Of course the Flint River remain at record low levels, in fact I managed to make it half way across the river in a suit and dress shoes, and the statistics are even worse. "There have only been 300, 350 days during that 106 year span where we've seen flows lower than what we have right now," said Masters.
What's worse is without rain, not just showers, but substantial rainfall, Georgia stands to enter 2008 drier than the state was in 2001 and come next spring, some Georgia farmers may find themselves without water for their crops.
While ground water levels remain abundant in south Georgia, the Georgia Water Planning and Policy Center encourages everyone to conserve water.
From WALB-TV, Albany, Georgia
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Homecoming
It wasn't but just a few weeks ago that we made a trip to Milan for Main Street's Homecoming. Well, we actually didn't make Homecoming but the night before Mark and Nancy Bradford was gracious enough to host everyone at their house for a party. It was almost like taking a step back in time to the time we would all go to a Milan HS football game and stop at somebody's house eat snacks and watch the scores on the late news. BOY, it was good to see the guys that were there! I wish it had been where I could have stayed for that Sunday and heard Dorain preach and spent a little time with all of the folks at Main Street. I have used several analogies from this visit to Milan and being at Mark and Nancy's house at CareStone. So even in missing that particular Sunday, there have been shared blessings from the quick Saturday trip to see some old friends and have a few hours together. The picture above is Dorian and Cheri Flynn with Inez and me. Dorian forgot to read the red shirt memo.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
THE OLD PHONE
When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.
I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
"Information."
"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone and called, "Information Please."
"Information," said in the now familiar voice.
"How do I spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.
Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. "Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."
I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?"
"Yes." I answered.
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.
Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
Whose life have you touched today?
Why not pass this on? I just did....
Lifting you on eagle's wings. May you find the joy and peace you long for.
Life is a journey ... NOT a guided tour.
I loved this story and just had to pass it on. I hope you enjoy it and get a blessing from it just as I did.
Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.
I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please" I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
"Information."
"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.
I said I could.
"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."
Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone and called, "Information Please."
"Information," said in the now familiar voice.
"How do I spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.
Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."
Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well. "Information."
I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."
I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do", she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information." I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she said.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?"
"Yes." I answered.
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called.
Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
Whose life have you touched today?
Why not pass this on? I just did....
Lifting you on eagle's wings. May you find the joy and peace you long for.
Life is a journey ... NOT a guided tour.
I loved this story and just had to pass it on. I hope you enjoy it and get a blessing from it just as I did.
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