I hit him - hard. He got back up and wobbled over to where I was standing. His lip was bleeding and my knuckles were skinned. I wasn’t sure but I think one of them was probably broken.
“Is that the best you can do,” he sneered? “My sister used to hit me harder than that and she only weighed about 70 pounds.”
“Listen, I said I don’t want to fight – why can’t you just leave it at that? Why get yourself all smacked around and maybe get some real damage?”
“Real damage? You’re going to pass along some real damage to me?” He looked up into the sky. “I don’t see any pigs flying,” he laughed.
The stretch of his lip when he laughed caused it to start bleeding heavily. Large drops rolled over his bottom lip and spilled to the floor. As I stood there, momentarily mesmerized by the blood flowing from his lips, he swung a huge haymaker right that caught me squarely on the side of the head. My eyes momentarily rolled back in my head and I abruptly sat down; not neatly or gingerly, mind you, but with a huge ‘whump’ that rattled my teeth together.
He stood over me and there was no longer a trace of laughter in his face. I knew what was coming next – a swift kick aimed at my ribs but I managed to partially block it with my left arm and I caught his foot with my right hand and pulled over and upward as hard and fast as I could. He fell backwards and his head smacked against the floor. He wasn’t unconscious but he was temporarily out of the fight. I took advantage of his situation and struggled to my feet. My head was throbbing and my left arm was strangely numb.
I knew that I had to do something to stop this fight; it was way out of hand. I did what any self-respecting boy would do.
“Mom, Mike started a fight and when I hit him back I split his lip. The blood on the floor is from his lip – he made the mess, not me!”
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Writer's Assignment - Someone Calls Your Name
It was late and it was cold. The street was dirty, filled with muddy water from the recent, heavy rains. It was dark; most of the street lights shattered by vandals and the few that were left seemed to make it darker rather than lighter. Random pieces of trash floated down the gutters turned impromptu rivers. My shoes were sodden, filled with water from the multiple openings in the soles. Had it still been raining, my heart would have filled with water as well, flowing in through the holes in my soul.
I tried to pull the threadbare coat tighter about my shoulders but it, too, was sopping wet and having little to no effect on keeping me warm. At least the boonie hat had kept most of the rain off my head. Both had come from a thrift store that wasn’t too concerned with how clean things were before they sold them. I had waged a small battle with certain bugs for several days before the folks at the shelter had helped me conquer them. Life hadn’t been all that wonderful lately.
“Hey, Frost, where are you going?”
I stopped dead in my tracks for a few seconds and then slowly turned around.
No one was there. Just more trash and more water. More cold. More emptiness. More darkness.
Had I been so sunk in my misery that I had started imagining that someone cared about me? I started to laugh but the dry, hacking cough I had developed in the last day or so stole my laughter and drowned it in its infancy. I couldn’t even begin to believe that someone had some sympathy or concern for me.
I turned back around and continued my plodding trek down the street; stumbling now and again over things hidden beneath the brown water. I don’t know why I continued in that direction – all directions led to that ultimate destination of a destitute and useless end.
“Hey, Frost, didn’t you hear me? I’m talking to you.”
I stopped again but didn’t turn around. What would be the purpose?
“What do you want?” I whispered.
“You, of course,” the voice spoke. “I want you.”
“Why?”
“Because you have no time left and I am here to collect you.”
Ah, I thought – the Grim Reaper. Thanatos. Apollyon. Abaddon. Death. Well, he would get no argument from me; I was more than ready to leave this mortal coil and shuffle off to my reward or, more likely, to my punishment.
“What took you so long?” I asked. “Why didn’t you show up a couple of years ago when I was on top – why wait until I had lost everything? Why the prolonged suffering?”
“Not my choice, friend. I’m only the transportation; it’s someone else’s decision as to when I show up.”
Surprisingly, the water in my face was warm and the pavement was soft as any mother’s love.
I tried to pull the threadbare coat tighter about my shoulders but it, too, was sopping wet and having little to no effect on keeping me warm. At least the boonie hat had kept most of the rain off my head. Both had come from a thrift store that wasn’t too concerned with how clean things were before they sold them. I had waged a small battle with certain bugs for several days before the folks at the shelter had helped me conquer them. Life hadn’t been all that wonderful lately.
“Hey, Frost, where are you going?”
I stopped dead in my tracks for a few seconds and then slowly turned around.
No one was there. Just more trash and more water. More cold. More emptiness. More darkness.
Had I been so sunk in my misery that I had started imagining that someone cared about me? I started to laugh but the dry, hacking cough I had developed in the last day or so stole my laughter and drowned it in its infancy. I couldn’t even begin to believe that someone had some sympathy or concern for me.
I turned back around and continued my plodding trek down the street; stumbling now and again over things hidden beneath the brown water. I don’t know why I continued in that direction – all directions led to that ultimate destination of a destitute and useless end.
“Hey, Frost, didn’t you hear me? I’m talking to you.”
I stopped again but didn’t turn around. What would be the purpose?
“What do you want?” I whispered.
“You, of course,” the voice spoke. “I want you.”
“Why?”
“Because you have no time left and I am here to collect you.”
Ah, I thought – the Grim Reaper. Thanatos. Apollyon. Abaddon. Death. Well, he would get no argument from me; I was more than ready to leave this mortal coil and shuffle off to my reward or, more likely, to my punishment.
“What took you so long?” I asked. “Why didn’t you show up a couple of years ago when I was on top – why wait until I had lost everything? Why the prolonged suffering?”
“Not my choice, friend. I’m only the transportation; it’s someone else’s decision as to when I show up.”
Surprisingly, the water in my face was warm and the pavement was soft as any mother’s love.
12U Fast Pitch Softball
All this week, my middle granddaughter (Autumn Woods) has been up in Washington, DC playing in the NSA Nationals Tournament for 12U Traveling Fast Pitch softball. Her team lost their first game in the actual "it counts" part of the tournament yesterday and then battled back to get to the final 4. Unfortunately, they lost their second game this morning (double elimination), so they ended up in 4th place. Still pretty darn good out of a field of 17 teams. I didn't have a photo of her in this team's (Galaxy Red) uniform so I used a photo of her from a couple of years ago when she was on the Triple Threat Lady Tigers (10U) and they won the Pony Nationals up in Delaware. Eileen and I went to that tournament and it was quite the show!
Congratulations to you, Autumn, and to Galaxy Red for their fine tournament play!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
The 11th Commandment - Tease not lest ye be teased.
I admit that I have a terrible habit - I pick on my grandchildren. Now, I do pick on them, but it isn't out of meanness - mischievousness would better fit the situation. Unfortunately, as they have grown older, they have learned how to play the game and I am frequently on the receiving end of their wit.
My youngest grandchild is August, who is almost 9 years old. When she was about 4 or 5, she was riding in the back seat of the car and she was pretending to be a policewoman writing tickets. I'm sure you can guess who was the recipient of all those tickets - it appears that I couldn't do anything right. Finally, I complained about all the tickets and why she was being so mean to me. Well, she didn't answer me directly - she merely said, "I love my job!"
Fast forward to this past Sunday - she was going to church with us and, as per our routine, I was teasing her. After this long back and forth about something, she just kind of shook her head and said to me "Grandaddy, you have sooo many things wrong with you."
Out of the mouths of babes.
My youngest grandchild is August, who is almost 9 years old. When she was about 4 or 5, she was riding in the back seat of the car and she was pretending to be a policewoman writing tickets. I'm sure you can guess who was the recipient of all those tickets - it appears that I couldn't do anything right. Finally, I complained about all the tickets and why she was being so mean to me. Well, she didn't answer me directly - she merely said, "I love my job!"
Fast forward to this past Sunday - she was going to church with us and, as per our routine, I was teasing her. After this long back and forth about something, she just kind of shook her head and said to me "Grandaddy, you have sooo many things wrong with you."
Out of the mouths of babes.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Have I ever mentioned that Eileen and I have 2 dogs? Here is a photo of Shamus Lochlan MacGregor when he was just a couple of months old. He and Eileen fell in love with each other at first sight. She was "browsing" at the pet store while I was doing something else in the mall and she said that all these folks walked by him and he just lay in his cage looking at them. However, when she walked by, he got up, came to the window and put his paw on the window so she put her hand to the window as well and they just stared at each other for a while.
As fortune would have it, our youngest daughter (Katie) happened to be in the mall and when Eileen saw her and told her about the puppy, she wanted to go see him. I had already checked on the price and told my daughter that there was no way I was going to spend that kind of money on a dog (big bucks!). Anyway, while back in the pet store, Katie had the girl get the puppy out and give her to Eileen. Tears just blew loose from her eyes and I knew that I was sunk - big bucks or no, that puppy had to come home with us.
I'll have to tell you the story of our other puppy some other time - I don't have a photo of her in this computer.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Joplin, MO
I was involved last night in leading a session of The Truth Project at a friend's house and when we ended the session and I asked about prayer requests, one of the folks indicated that he was mad at God for the damage done to people's lives in Joplin, MO. He asked the proverbial question "How can a merciful God allow these things to happen?" He didn't say this, but implicit in it, I believe was that God was at fault for the loss of lives and the loss of homes and businesses.
I think that is a fair question to ask but a hard one to answer and unless one is solidly of the belief that God knows best, there can probably be no answer that would satisfy those who do not have that solidity of belief.
We could talk about the fall of man bringing all sorts of calamity into the world; we could talk about that in a natural world, these events will always happen; we could perhaps come up with many other explanations - but there is no way that we can truly know the answer. And, the question presupposes that life on this earth is preferable to anything else that God might have in store for us. While death (especially to a family member or close friend) is a terrible tragedy for those remaining, is it a tragedy to those who died? We are all going to die at some point (unless, as I frequently ask of God, I am caught up in the Rapture instead!!) and make the transition from life on earth to life in heaven or hell. The real tragedy, of course, is those who die without Christ as their Lord and Savior. I believe, in the final analysis, that is the only real tragedy of this world; everythng else is short of tragedy even if long on pain and suffering.
I think that is a fair question to ask but a hard one to answer and unless one is solidly of the belief that God knows best, there can probably be no answer that would satisfy those who do not have that solidity of belief.
We could talk about the fall of man bringing all sorts of calamity into the world; we could talk about that in a natural world, these events will always happen; we could perhaps come up with many other explanations - but there is no way that we can truly know the answer. And, the question presupposes that life on this earth is preferable to anything else that God might have in store for us. While death (especially to a family member or close friend) is a terrible tragedy for those remaining, is it a tragedy to those who died? We are all going to die at some point (unless, as I frequently ask of God, I am caught up in the Rapture instead!!) and make the transition from life on earth to life in heaven or hell. The real tragedy, of course, is those who die without Christ as their Lord and Savior. I believe, in the final analysis, that is the only real tragedy of this world; everythng else is short of tragedy even if long on pain and suffering.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Just wondering
I heard (briefly) President Obama's talk about Israel, "Palestine" and a 2-state solution to their issues. Just wondering why Obama thinks that Israel will agree to the 1967 borders that had Israel at just 9 miles wide in one spot, had Jerusalem partitioned so that part was Israeli and part "Palestinian", that had Jerusalem's Jewish holy sites predominantly within the non-Jewish part of Jerusalem. Jews were not allowed to visit their holy sites prior to 1967; 86 (or so) mosques were destroyed in Jerusalem under Muslim rule. What is the purpose of Obama's "solution"? It doesn't make a lot of sense to me, particularly considering the fact that the "Palestinians" constantly send thousands of rockets into Israel with the borders as they are... imagine if Israel was back to its 1967 borders.
And, just for the record, "Palestine" and "Palestinians" are in quotes because there is no such group of people. These people were either Turkish (way back), Syrian, Lebanese or Jordanians living in that area prior to the establishment of Israel as a nation. There has never been a state/government that was known as "Palestine".
And, just for the record, "Palestine" and "Palestinians" are in quotes because there is no such group of people. These people were either Turkish (way back), Syrian, Lebanese or Jordanians living in that area prior to the establishment of Israel as a nation. There has never been a state/government that was known as "Palestine".
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