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Mistress Crow Darkstride
My Dark Queen
The Critter Crusader Strikes Agian
Monday, December 22, 2008
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Monday, December 8, 2008
A Different Christmas Poem
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light, I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight. My wife was asleep, her head on my chest, My daughter beside me, angelic in rest. Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white, Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe, Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve. My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep, Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep. In perfect contentment, or so it would seem, So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near, But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear. Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow. My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear, And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night, A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight. A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old, Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold. Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled, Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear, "Come in this moment, it's freezing out here! Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve, You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!" For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift, Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right, I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line, That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me, I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me. My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December," Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers." My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam', And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while, But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile. Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag, The red, white, and blue... an American flag. I can live through the cold and the being alone, Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet, I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat. I can carry the weight of killing another, Or lay down my life with my sister and brother.. Who stand at the front against any and all, To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright, Your family is waiting and I'll be all right." "But isn't there something I can do, at the least, "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast? It seems all too little for all that you've done, For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret, "Just tell us you love us, and never forget. To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone, To stand your own watch, no matter how long. For when we come home, either standing or dead, To know you remember we fought and we bled. Is payment enough, and with that we will trust, That we mattered to you as you mattered to us." PLEASE, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN 30th Naval Construction Regiment OIC, Logistics Cell One Al Taqqadum, Iraq
The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light, I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight. My wife was asleep, her head on my chest, My daughter beside me, angelic in rest. Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white, Transforming the yard to a winter delight.
The sparkling lights in the tree I believe, Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve. My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep, Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep. In perfect contentment, or so it would seem, So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.
The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near, But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear. Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow. My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear, And I crept to the door just to see who was near.
Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night, A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight. A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old, Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold. Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled, Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.
"What are you doing?" I asked without fear, "Come in this moment, it's freezing out here! Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve, You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!" For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift, Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts..
To the window that danced with a warm fire's light Then he sighed and he said "Its really all right, I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night." "It's my duty to stand at the front of the line, That separates you from the darkest of times.
No one had to ask or beg or implore me, I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me. My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December," Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers." My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam', And now it is my turn and so, here I am.
I've not seen my own son in more than a while, But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile. Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag, The red, white, and blue... an American flag. I can live through the cold and the being alone, Away from my family, my house and my home.
I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet, I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat. I can carry the weight of killing another, Or lay down my life with my sister and brother.. Who stand at the front against any and all, To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."
"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright, Your family is waiting and I'll be all right." "But isn't there something I can do, at the least, "Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast? It seems all too little for all that you've done, For being away from your wife and your son."
Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret, "Just tell us you love us, and never forget. To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone, To stand your own watch, no matter how long. For when we come home, either standing or dead, To know you remember we fought and we bled. Is payment enough, and with that we will trust, That we mattered to you as you mattered to us." PLEASE, would you do me the kind favor of sending this to as many people as you can? Christmas will be coming soon and some credit is due to our U.S service men and women for our being able to celebrate these festivities. Let's try in this small way to pay a tiny bit of what we owe. Make people stop and think of our heroes, living and dead, who sacrificed themselves for us.
LCDR Jeff Giles, SC, USN 30th Naval Construction Regiment OIC, Logistics Cell One Al Taqqadum, Iraq
Monday, December 1, 2008
Karma's Bitch
Karma’s Bitch
Ack!'
So anyone who knows me knows about Latin Thunder that lives upstairs. Today as I fed my birds I glanced out the window and saw two of my heavy footed neighbors out in the snow trying to shovel out thier car with a broken shovel. I don't know why I had pity on them considering how many migraines they have contributed to. But I did and thus the story unfolds. I cut my finger open trying to open the window to call out to them so I opted to banging on the window and signaling them to come to my door. I handed them a snow shovel I got in the hall and some pizza boxes. Upon realizing that there was a language barrior I tried using hand motions as to why I was giving them pizza boxes. They never got that concept but they made use of the snow shovel. Now it gets interesting. I come across the knowledge that the snow shovel was the property of the woman next door. I apologized several times and she said all was well. All was NOT well...not well at all. I hear her spazzing in the hall talking to herself and well...suffice to say I knew I was Karma's Bitch. The story ends with her yelling at the Mexicans. "Mine MINE..mine..." Suffice to say she retrieved her shovel, I gave them the two in the hall that actually did belong to the building after telling the confused duo that she was a "mucho loco gringa" and thier car was shoveled out, the walk was cleared and they were amazed by my bi-lingual skills. I have to say I am a bit frazzled, my finger hurts like hell, my feet are froze from the snow puddles in the hall that my compression hose soaked up and I am one hot mess. I have come to the conclusion that today...as several others have when I try to do the right thing has been trumped by Murphy's Law. So I end up being Karma's Bitch.
Ack!'
So anyone who knows me knows about Latin Thunder that lives upstairs. Today as I fed my birds I glanced out the window and saw two of my heavy footed neighbors out in the snow trying to shovel out thier car with a broken shovel. I don't know why I had pity on them considering how many migraines they have contributed to. But I did and thus the story unfolds. I cut my finger open trying to open the window to call out to them so I opted to banging on the window and signaling them to come to my door. I handed them a snow shovel I got in the hall and some pizza boxes. Upon realizing that there was a language barrior I tried using hand motions as to why I was giving them pizza boxes. They never got that concept but they made use of the snow shovel. Now it gets interesting. I come across the knowledge that the snow shovel was the property of the woman next door. I apologized several times and she said all was well. All was NOT well...not well at all. I hear her spazzing in the hall talking to herself and well...suffice to say I knew I was Karma's Bitch. The story ends with her yelling at the Mexicans. "Mine MINE..mine..." Suffice to say she retrieved her shovel, I gave them the two in the hall that actually did belong to the building after telling the confused duo that she was a "mucho loco gringa" and thier car was shoveled out, the walk was cleared and they were amazed by my bi-lingual skills. I have to say I am a bit frazzled, my finger hurts like hell, my feet are froze from the snow puddles in the hall that my compression hose soaked up and I am one hot mess. I have come to the conclusion that today...as several others have when I try to do the right thing has been trumped by Murphy's Law. So I end up being Karma's Bitch.
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