Sidewalk Prophets and Kutless

Friday, October 22, 2010

We had the great joy of being able to attend a concert at one of our local churches this week. The groups were Sidewalk Prophets and Kutless. Not only did these guys perform in a most excellent way but they honored Jesus in all they did and there was no doubt that the shows were to worship Him. Who said positive, Christian music had to be boring? No way! I hope you will take a moment to click on these four links. It was very hard to choose two songs by each group that I loved most, but this is what I picked. I hope these will bless you as much as they bless me!

Kutless



www.youtube.com/watch?v=nqjqoBcJmEg

www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_GD4MQspvc

Sidewalk Prophets

(A special thank you to RelocatedCowboy for turning me on to this group!!)



www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fpKwja0j50

www.youtube.com/watch?v=KinapY2MHeU

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Frazil Ice

Monday, October 18, 2010

I got this from a friend this morning (thanks, Jerri!). Fascinating stuff for this no-snow, no-ice lady!

www.boingboing.net/2010/05/24/frazil
-ice-fascinati.html

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The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

A friend of mine posted this on his FaceBook and I was so impressed by it that I had to share it. I've never heard such pretty whistling in my life!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=pLgJ7pk0X-s

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A Fun Day at the Fair

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Here in Louisiana, the only state in the Union to still fall under the Napoleonic code of law, we have parishes instead of counties. We attended our parish fair today. On Sunday afternoon, the end of the three days of festivities, local gospel groups and worship teams perform on stage, one after the other. What a great atmosphere! The weather was as perfect as southeast Louisiana gets. It was 74 degrees, breezy, not a cloud in the sky. Absolutely gorgeous!! My friend Michelle (GETTINSKINNY for those who've seen her on my SparkPage) is the one who enticed us to go. Her brother had one of the food booths there. He did a bang up job, too. There were rides, games, food, music, vendors (I got an awesome Fleur De Lis earring and bracelet set for $7). At other times during the fair they had beauty pageants, 4-H livestock competitions, and all sorts of other fun things to do. I was so delighted to have been able to walk around for a couple hours with no pain, without getting winded, and to have FUN with my family instead of sitting on the sidelines watching everyone ELSE have fun. It's a new day, my friends, and it's only going to get better. I'm already counting the days until Mardi Gras! lol Here's a little taste of our day!

Michelle and her grandbabies, Diamon and Randen, and Bill and I and our youngest, Melanie.



This is my new friend, Blane. Isn't he adorable?!



This is Michelle's brother, Keith, the chef. That man does some MEAN catfish!



Keith and his crew worked VERY hard. By the time we left, they'd been at it for three days and looked like they all needed a week of sleep.



I had to get in some snuggle time with Blane!



The kids on some of the rides





Randen was such a good boy, not begging for games and toys, that we blessed him with a surprise just before we left.



We so rarely get a photo of us together. I'm posting this one even though we were cruddy after a day of being dust-blown and wind-blown.



Best shot of the day. How angelic is my little buddy?!! Goodness but I love this kid.

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Bananas and Milk Duds

Thursday, September 30, 2010

This article is rather old. I ran across it again today and it was so funny that I had to share it just in case there are those of you who have not seen it before. I hope it gives you a chuckle!

Below is an article written by Rick Reilly of Sports Illustrated. He details his experiences when given the opportunity to fly in a F-14 Tomcat. If you aren't laughing out loud by the time you get to 'Milk Duds,' your sense of humor is seriously broken.

This message is for America 's most famous athletes.

Someday you may be invited to fly in the back-seat of one of your country's most powerful fighter jets. Many of you already have. John Elway, John Stockton, Tiger Woods, to name a few. If you get this opportunity, let me urge you, with the greatest sincerity... Move t o Guam

Change your name.
Fake your own death!
Whatever you do -----
Do Not Go!!!
I know. '

The U.S. Navy invited me to try it. I was thrilled. I was pumped. I was toast! I should've known when they told me my pilot would be Chip (Biff) King of Fighter Squadron 213 at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach.

Whatever you're thinking a Top Gun named Chip (Biff) King looks like, triple it. He's about six-foot, tan, ice-blue eyes, wavy surfer hair, finger-crippling handshake -- the kind of man who wrestles dyspeptic alligators in his leisure time. If you see this man, run the other way. Fast.

Biff King was born to fly. His father, Jack King, was for years the voice of NASA missions. ('T-minus 15 seconds and counting .' Remember?) Chip would charge neighborhood kids a quarter each to hear his dad. Jack would wake up from naps surrounded by nine-year-olds waiting for him to say, 'We have liftoff'.
Biff was to fly me in an F-14D Tomcat, a ridiculously powerful $60 million weapon with nearly as much thrust as weight, not unlike Colin Montgomerie. I was worried about getting airsick, so the night before the flight I asked Biff if there was something I should eat the next morning.

'Bananas,' he said.

'For the potassium?' I asked.

'No,' Biff said, 'because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down.'

The next morning, out on the tarmac, I had on my flight suit with my name sewn over the left breast. (No call sign -- like Crash or Sticky or Leadfoot. But, still, very cool.) I carried my helmet in the crook of my arm, as Biff had instructed. If ever in my life I had a chance to nail Nicole Kidman, this was it.

A fighter pilot named Psycho gave me a safety briefing and then fastened me into my ejection seat, which, when employed, would 'egress' me out of the plane at such a velocity that I w ould be immediately knocked unconscious.

Just as I was thinking about aborting the flight, the canopy closed over me, and Biff gave the ground crew a thumbs-up. In minutes we were flying nose up at 600 mph. We leveled out and then canopy-rolled over another F-14.

Those 20 minutes were the rush of my life. Unfortunately, the ride lasted 80... It was like being on the roller coaster at Six Flags Over Hell. Only without rails. We did barrel rolls, snap rolls, loops, yanks and banks. We dived, rose and dived again, sometimes with a vertical velocity of 10,000 feet per minute. We chased another F-14, and it chased us.

We broke the speed of sound. Sea was sky and sky was sea. Flying at 200 feet we did 90-degree turns at 550 mph, creating a G force of 6.5, which is to say I felt as if 6.5 times my body weight was smashing against me, thereby approximating life as Mrs. Colin Montgomerie.

And I egressed the bananas.

And I egressed the pizza from the night before.

And the lunch before that.

I egressed a box of Milk Duds from the sixth grade.

I made Linda Blair look polite. Because of the G's, I was egressing stuff that never tho ught would be egressed.

I went through not one airsick bag, but two.

Biff said I passed out. Twice. I was coated in sweat. At one point, as we were coming in upside down in a banked curve on a mock bombing target and the G's were flattening me like a tortilla and I was in and out of consciousness, I realized I was the first person in history to throw down.

I used to know 'cool'. Cool was Elway throwing a touchdown pass, or Norman making a five-iron bite. But now I really know 'cool'. Cool is guys like Biff, men with cast-iron stomachs and freon nerves. I wouldn't go up there again for Derek Jeter's black book, but I'm glad Biff does every day, and for less a year than a rookie reliever makes in a home stand.

A week later, when the spins finally stopped, Biff called. He said he and the fighters had the perfect call sign for me. Said he'd send it on a patch for my flight suit.

What is it?? I asked.

'Two Bags.'

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