Ann

A Cardiologist died and was given an elaborate funeral. A huge heart covered in flowers stood behind the casket during the service. Following the eulogy, the heart opened, and the casket rolled inside. The heart then closed, sealing the doctor in the beautiful heart forever. At that point, one of the mourners burst into laughter. When all eyes stared at him, he said, "I'm sorry, I was just thinking of my own funeral...I'm a Gynecologist." The Proctologist fainted.

The secret of a good sermon is to have a good beginning and a good ending; and to have the two as close together as possible. -- George Burns

Yum....I love clams Mahi-Mahi

Great "Air" this morning, Judy. I think you shared some great thoughts this morning and I do agree. Sometimes, we all tend to worry too much about things going on in our lives and we forget to just live. Well, here on Florida's Space Coast, we're still hoping that the weather will cooperate long enough to get the shuttle off the launchpad. NASA is now hoping for a launch tomorrow night. I had a rough night last night. My son and DIL have two little daschunds, Bailey and Barney, who are truly my little "granddogs." My DIL and Bailey have been together for many years. The kids went to Vegas for a long weekend and left the dogs with her mom and dad. When they came home from church on Sunday, Bailey had passed away. She was all curled up on her favorite bath mat. The kids got back into town late last night and my DIL is a wreck. I'm very sad, too. I also got a bit upset this morning when one of my friends said...."you have to remember she's only a dog." Well, in my family, our dogs are like part of our family. I had my cake decorating class last night and have made a decision! I think I'm going to concentrate on make a cake taste good rather than making it look pretty. I think I did all right with the actual decorating, but leveling the cake and getting that buttercream icing exactly the right consistency is for the birds!!! I don't think I'll ever feel the same about buttercream icing after actually making it. Crisco and sugar....how good can that be for your ticker? So, hope everyone has a zippy day in your little corner of the world!!! Ann

What are you a "natural" at doing ?

Tick Warning (it's baaack) TICK WARNING! I hate it when people forward bogus warnings, and I have even done it myself a couple times unintentionally but this one is real, and it's important. Please send this warning to everyone on your e- mail list. If someone comes to your front door saying they are checking for ticks due to the warm weather and asks you to take your clothes off and dance around with your arms up, DO NOT DO IT!! THIS IS A SCAM!! They only want to see you naked.. I wish I'd gotten this yesterday. I feel so stupid.

my last bug ?

1st Celebrity Swine Flu Fatality And we all know who gave it to him…

I think you may have seen this before but I just couldn't help but post it again! The following was found posted very low on a refrigerator door. Dear Dogs and Cats: The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest. The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Racing me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run. I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort, however. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It Is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other, stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out on the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm. For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom! If, by some miracle, I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge in an attempt to open the door. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years - canine/feline attendance is not required. The proper order for kissing is: Kiss me first, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough. Finally, in fairness, dear pets, I have posted the following message on the front door: TO ALL NON-PET OWNERS WHO VISIT AND LIKE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT OUR PETS: (1) They live here. You don't. (2) If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That's why they call it 'fur'-niture (3) I like my pets a lot better than I like most people (4) To you, they are animals. To me, they are adopted sons/daughters who are short, hairy, walk on all fours and don't speak clearly. Remember, dogs and cats are better than kids because they: (1) eat less, (2) don't ask for money all the time, (3) are easier to train, (4) normally come when called, (5) never ask to drive the car, (6) don't hang out with drug-using people; (7) don't smoke or drink my coffee, ( don't want to wear your clothes, (9) don't have to buy the latest fashions, (10) don't need a gazillion dollars for college and (11) if they get pregnant, you can sell their children legally...

Well here’s a change of pace game. It’s called The 3 Word Story. We are going to tell a story that we make up 3 words at a time. I’ll start with the first 3 words; the next person copies and pastes the story into their reply and then continues the story with 3 more words and on and on. Each successive person adds 3 more words. Don't be shy. Lets see where it takes us. Here are the first 3 words: The dog barked

Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear strong voice. 'I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her. 'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at your hands?' I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making. Grandma smiled and related this story: Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse. They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of God.' I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.

Speakers On ....Volume Up

WOMAN'S YEARLY EXAM I went to the doctor for my yearly physical. The nurse starts with certain basics. "How much do you weigh?" she asks. I say, "135." The nurse puts me on the scale. It turns out my weight is 180. The nurse asks, "Your height?" I answer, "5 feet 4 inches." The nurse checks and sees that I only measure 5 feet 2 inches. She then takes my blood pressure and tells me that it's very high. "Of course it's high!" I scream. "When I came in here I was tall and slender! Now I'm short and fat!" She put me on Prozac. What a b*tch.

An old, blind cowboy wanders into an all-girl biker bar by mistake. He finds his way to a bar stool and orders some coffee. After sitting there for a while, he yells to the waiter, 'Hey, you wanna hear a blonde joke?' The bar immediately falls absolutely silent. In a very deep, husky voice, the woman next to him says, 'Before you tell that joke, Cowboy, I think it is only fair, given that you are blind, that you should know five things: 1. The bartender is a blonde girl with a baseball bat. 2. The bouncer is a blonde girl. 3. I'm a 6-foot tall, 175-pound blonde woman with a black belt in karate. 4. The woman sitting next to me is blonde and a professional weightlifter. 5. The lady to your right is blonde and a professional wrestler. 'Now, think about it seriously, Mister. Do you still wanna tell that joke?' The blind cowboy thinks for a second, shakes his head, and mutters, 'No...not if I'm gonna have to explain it five times.

Oysters - Big Yum !!! Fish Tacos

Sometimes, when I look at my children, I say to myself ~~"Lillian, you should have remained a virgin." -- Lillian Carter (mother of Jimmy Carter)

Good Monday morning, friends. As always, it's so wonderful to log on and find that our breath of fresh "air" is already here! Judy is such a great gal to open her window every morning and let the "air" start flowing! Judy, I would have love to have been with you yesterday. Flea markets and garage sales are my passion. Lord knows that it's not because I need any more clutter around my house. It's all about the thrill of the hunt. I think I must have been a pirate in a previous life, as I'm always looking for that valuable and priceless treasure that I find with a 50 cent sticker attached...lol! I have a good friend that also loves garage sales and I can tell you that we have absolutely no problem making an entire day out of visiting garage sales. I'm so sorry it's Monday already, as I had a great weekend. We babysat on Saturday until about 4:00 and then met friends later for dinner and a night out, listening to a band we all love. I usually don't drink but Saturday was a rum and Diet Coke night and I had a ball. Yesterday was spent just getting some things done and baking and icing a cake to decorate at tonight's class. I can tell you right now that I would never pursue cake decorating as a profession. I figure if I get to the point I can decorate birthday cakes for my family, I'll be flying!!! Hot, humid and a chance of rain/thunderstorms her on Florida's Space Coast. I'm beginning to wonder if this big white bird (shuttle) is ever going to be able to fly!!! Be happy today in your little corner of the world! Ann

Groucho Marx once said...."I never forget a face but in your case, I'll make an exception." Are you better at remembering names or faces? Do you have any tricks up your sleeve that you use to remember faces? Please share them with us, as some of us are terrible with names.....(not mentioning anyone in particular)...LOL

The old cowboy sat down at the Starbucks and ordered a cup of coffee. As he sat sipping his coffee, a pretty young woman sat down next to him.. She turned to the cowboy and asked, 'Are you a real cowboy?' He replied, 'Well, I've spent my whole life breaking colts, working cattle, going to rodeos, fixing fences, pulling calves, bailing hay, doctoring calves, cleaning my barn, fixing flats, working on tractors, and feeding my dogs, so I guess I am a cowboy..' She said, 'I'm a ****. I spend my whole day thinking about women. As soon as I get up in the morning, I think about women. When I shower, I think about women. When I watch TV, I think about women. It seems everything makes me think of women.' The two sat sipping their coffee in silence. A little while later, a man sat down on the other side of the old cowboy and asked, 'Are you a real cowboy?' The old man replied, 'I always thought I was, but I just found out I'm a ****.'

A SPANISH Teacher was explaining to her class that, in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine. 'House' for instance, is feminine: 'la casa.' 'Pencil,' however, is masculine: 'el lapiz.' So, a student asked, 'What gender is 'computer'?' Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups, male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether 'computer' should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.. The men's group decided that 'computer' should definitely be of the feminine gender ('la Computadora' ), because: 1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic; 2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else; 3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later retrieval; and 4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it. (THIS GETS BETTER!) The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine ('el computador') , because: 1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on; 2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves; 3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem; and 4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a little longer, you could have gotten a better model. The women won.

A carrot, an egg, and a cup of coffee... You will never look at a cup of coffee the same way again. A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose. Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word. In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, "Tell me what you see." "Carrots, eggs, and coffee," she replied. Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg. Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, "What does it mean, mother?" Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, hard, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water. "Which are you?" she asked her daughter. "When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?" Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength? Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart? Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate yourself to another level? How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?

Ian McShane and Jennifer Anniston

I think I would have chosen Ella, my grandaughter's name.

Saying prayers for your mom.

I wanted to share this easy recipe for some wonderful soup that I made last night. Add a salad and some garlic bread and you have a great meal! White Bean Pasta e Fagioli 3 Cups Cooked Cannellini Beans 3 Tablespoons Olive Oil 2 Carrots, Peeled And Chopped 2 Celery Stalks, Chopped 1 Small Red Onion, Chopped 2 Cloves Garlic, Peeled And Minced 4 Large, Ripe Plum Tomatoes 4 To 5 Cups Chicken Broth Salt & Pepper 1/4 Cup Chopped Fresh Parsley 1 Teaspoon Dried Oregano 2 Cups Small Dried Pasta Of Choice (Small Shells, Tubetti, Or Macaroni Are Good Choices) 1 Cup Grated Parmesan Cheese Extra Virgin Olive Oil To Serve Heat the oil in a large pot, and cook the onion, celery, carrot, and garlic until soft and fragrant. Add 4 cups of the broth, and the beans to the pot, and cook for 10 minutes. Season with salt, pepper, oregano, and half of the parsley. Cut the tomatoes in half, and gently squeeze to remove most of the seeds. Cut off the core end, and then cut the tomatoes into small dice. Add the tomatoes, and pasta of choice to the pot, and cook until the pasta is tender, about 10 to 15 minutes, adding a little additional broth to the pot if mixture is too dry. Stir in half of the parmesan cheese and remaining parsley and mix well. Serve in individual bowls, with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil on top. Offer a sprinkling of additional parmesan cheese if desired.