...excuse me....Merry Christmas!.....

We can't say Merry Christmas anymore..?

" . . . every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart." Sound familiar? Anyone who had the pleasure of reading Charles Dickens "A Christmas Carol" or have seen the many versions of it on television or in the theatres will recognize this quote from Scrooge himself. The word "Christmas" has more venom in today's society then a angry rattlesnake on a hot summer day. The question we have to ask ourselves is WHY?

To give an example; an atheist organization put a sign celebrating winter solstice next to a Nativity scene at the Legislative Building in Olympia, Washington. The sign reads "religion is but myth and superstition that hardens hearts and enslaves minds." This organization claims the sign is important for atheists to see their viewpoints validated alongside everyone else's.

That's it...let's make sure EVERYONE is covered. All people are happy. Obama would be so proud of such a 'socialist' view...

When you see Christmas lights on houses in shapes of Santa Claus, snowmen, and other Christmas icons, not "Holiday', not "Winter Festival" but Christmas icons, what do you think of? You think of Christmas even if you do not believe in Christmas. These are the symbols of love. Why is it so wrong for Christians to display symbols of love one month of the year?

Again, the battle begins over Christmas. Those who think they are politically correct call it the "Holiday Season." Christmas was originally meant to celebrate Christ's birth. He came to this world to be crucified and rose in victory to save anyone from the consequences of sin who believes on His name and accepts Him as their personal Savior.

Liberals would not want Martin Luther King, Jr. Day to be changed to Black Liberty Day, they want to celebrate the holiday to honor Mr. King, which I certainly respect, and I don't believe that he himself would want to change the meaning of the Christmas Season, as he was a fine Christian man.

Oh, I apologize...does Martin Luther King fall under "Kwanzaa …a unique African American celebration with focus on the traditional African values of family, community responsibility, commerce, and self-improvement?"

Kwanzaa, a fake "African" holiday that was contrived in 1966 by Ron Karenga (born Ron Everett) who was a Black Panther that was kicked out of that violent racist club, and he then created the United Slaves Organization that was the Panther's rival and was worse than the Black Panthers.

What bothers me most about Kwanzaa is that duped people and the Gov't (US Postal Kwanzaa stamps) are starting to give legitimacy to this racist 'holiday' without acknowledging it's background and purpose. It is not a 'holiday' which all people can celebrate; it is a holiday for Blacks to separate themselves from the rest of America.

So next time someone says "Happy Kwanzaa" just remember they are talking about a fake holiday created by a Marxist Racist Black criminal in the '60s to lead Blacks away from the 'white man's' Christmas.

And I am supposed to be PC by not saying Merry Christmas? Not going to happen....Merry Christmas!

a perfect day...

Ever since I was a young boy, I have wondered why on earth an older couple would want to stay in their manicured yard..and relax. I used to see 'older' people actually enjoying themselves in dialogue...in their yard.

How could this be I wondered? Why are they not out hiking or camping I thought? I wanted to scream at them over the fence..."get out and enjoy life"...wow...how boring I thought.

With the weather so perfect in Portland this Memorial week-end, I am sure that several hundred..if not thousands of people are flocking to find a piece of property to pitch and tent...and sleep on the ground.

But something special happened this weekend...I realized that "I" am that older person I saw when I was a young boy...my wife and I are that 'older couple' that enjoys listening to our huge water-feature pond, feeding the ravenous appetites of the Goldfinches, and more importantly I am not "afraid" of who I am (and have become)...I am at peace with myself! Finally!

We have worked for 15 years to get the look we have now... (we have worked longer on this yard than the number of years I was alive when I used to see old people in their yards). Well, I love my yard for the way it bombards my senses and shields me from the rat race. When I look out a window, walk out a door, or drive up in my car, I'm blinded by my own smile. After one of Portland's toughest white winters I can't get enough of its myriad shades of green and the songs of all the various birds.

The scent when I mow the grass ... wow, that fresh green fragrance ... there's no smell that brings back more Saturday morning memories than a freshly mowed lawn. The sound of the water splashing in our pond near the back patio, and the twittering of birds in the feeders in our 'bird garden' connects me to the natural world in a way that completely drowns out all other ‘stressful’ things in my life.

And to sit on the patio at the end of the day with a cool beverage, and feel the garden air play over my face, with the fragrance, and the splashing and twittering, and the scent of grass now mingled with the aroma of a perfect t-bone on the grill ... well, put it all together and it's the ultimate escape. What I did not know as that young boy (many moons ago)..is that "I deserve to sit on my ass after working all these years."

I love my yard...I love my wife....and I am not afraid to say...”I love my life."

Opening weekend: backyard barbecue!

Opening weekend: backyard barbecue. Get out the steel wool. Scrub down the grill rack, the barbecue tools. Strike up the charcoal. Add hot dogs, burgers. Bring on a big bowl of classic potato salad. Cover the table with a checkered cloth, stack up the paper napkins. It’s the first cookout of the season! Keep it simple, pure, traditional.

The key to delicious results is building the bold flavor before, during, and after barbecuing. For example, if you want your rib eye steak to have a blackened exterior and a rare interior, you need a good rub on your steak, a hot fire in proximity to your meat, and a short cooking time.

Ahhhh....Memorial Day Weekend is upon us! For many, it's three days of fun in the sun and welcoming summer. It's great to enjoy yourselves, but keep in mind that Memorial Day is also about remembering soldiers that have given the ultimate sacrifice for our country.

Memorial Day is a holiday set aside to remember soldiers who have lost their lives, although many people also take the opportunity to remember all loved ones who have passed away. The holiday began after the American Civil War. During the war, about 500,000 soldiers were killed on both sides of the battle, and women began decorating graves of these lost soldiers.

Although many cities created local holidays to memorialize the dead between 1864 and 1866, the first widespread celebration of the holiday was on May 30, 1868. A general ordered that flowers and decorations be placed at the graves of fallen soldiers. Special services and tributes were also created to honor the dead. The general asked the press to support the effort.

Originally, Memorial Day was called Decoration Day, and most cities passed their own resolutions making it an official holiday, usually on May 30 or 31. In 1938, congress made Memorial Day a national holiday on May 30. The date was adjusted by congress in 1968 so that it would fall on the last Monday in May.

After World War I, many women began selling poppies in honor of Memorial Day, to raise money for families affected by the war. The poppies were inspired by Canadian Colonel John McCrae's poem, "In Flanders Fields." Today, honoring soldiers on Memorial Day often takes the form of special ceremonies, speeches, and laying a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia.

John McCrae was a Canadian physician. He fought at the Western Front in 1914, but was later moved to the medical corps and assigned to a hospital in France. He died of pneumonia while on active duty in 1918. His "In Flanders Fields" is probably the single best-known and popular poem from the war, published in his volume of poetry, In Flanders Fields and Other Poems, 1919.

In Flanders Fields


In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.


We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.


Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.


— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)


As I enjoy this time set-aside for remembrance, I want to say thank you to all the men and women that have given me the 'right' to enjoy this weekend. Thank you for your sacrifices...PLEASE OBAMA...bring our troops home soon!!