Saturday Wordzzle Challenge: Week 91

This is week 90 of the Saturday Wordzzle Challenge. Anyone new to the process can refer back here to find out how it works. Not terribly pleased with my results this week, but at least I got them done. Looking forward to seeing what you have all come up with.


Thanks again to Argent for this week's words. They were: edge, haven, sunglasses, sprightly, telling, frazzled, juicy, quartet, tied, necklace And for the mini: bees, crackling, wooden, staple, earful



My mini:

Despite the stunned, wooden expression on her face, Sandra Johnson was livid. For the first time in her life, she understood the expression "bees in your bonnet." Anger was crackling and surging inside her and she couldn't wait to give Marilyn Staples an earful about just what she thought of someone who would flirt with another woman's husband. Martin might not be much, but he was hers and she loved him.



The 10-word:

Georgette Haven was awed at the amazing change in her life circumstances. Who would have thought that the slightly frazzled, sprightly old man (wearing sun glasses on a cloudy day) would turn out to be her savior. Two weeks ago she had been at the edge of the abyss, hungry homeless, alone and in despair. "Your shoe's not tied," she has whispered to him, "careful or you might trip." Telling him had seemed like the right, natural thing to do, nothing special. He had stopped at her words, though, and she had bent down and laced it for him. A simple act of kindness. Now here she was in an opulent room, dressed in a beautiful gown, a diamond necklace hanging at her throat. Heads had turned as she entered the room. She wasn't sure, but she thought perhaps cameras had even flashed. She had never been anywhere so fine, never felt so beautiful. A string quartet played quietly in the background. Her host smiled at her with both kindness and admiration and pulled out a chair. "Ah, what a juicy story we make for the tabloids, my dear... the billionaire and the mystery woman. You think I'm a miracle in your life, but it is in fact the other way around. You awakened my heart with your pure kindness and now it is yours if you will have it." And she would. It was not about the money, either. He was the kindest man she had ever met, an angel on earth. She felt the luckiest woman alive... and perhaps she was.


My mega:

Edge Haven was the perfect retreat for healing frazzled nerves. It was late afternoon and Margaret lay stretched out at pool side, feeling relaxed and at ease for the first time in months. She temporarily set aside Sarah's Necklace, the juicy romance novel she had brought with her, to soak up her surroundings. The book, which was the 2nd installment in a quartet of romances by the same author was a bit disappointing. She had enjoyed the first (Wooden Idols) immensely, but she was having trouble getting into this one. Maybe it was the distractions around her. On her left she watched as a trio of bees hovered and darted among the burst of colorful, sweet smelling flowers that filled a corner of the pool area not far from where she lay. Across the pool the hot, sprightly young waiter was apparently telling a joke to a middle-aged couple in matching outfits (even their sunglasses were identical!) who were laughing uproariously. Off to her right a mother re-tied the straps on her teen-aged daughter while giving her earful about modesty and virtue. In another corner, another handsome young staff member had started a crackling fire in anticipation of the daily barbecue which was a staple of the "Edge Haven experience." Margaret took a deep breath and sighed. She was content. For the first time since Janie had died, since Mark had left her, she felt like she belonged in the world again. Odd that she had had to get away from it all to feel like she could be part of things again. She had thought he therapist crazy when he had told her to get away, had insisted and pushed until he broke through her resistance. She was would have to thank him for his wisdom when she returned to the world again. For now, she would just soak it all in and enjoy herself.

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Words for next week's 10-word challenge are: sugar, mortgage, logical, roller skates, outlandish, Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, cumberbund, unexpected, photo album, scarecrow


And for the mini: tomatoes, turtles, basement apartment, circumference, make my day

Thanks for playing. For those who are new, here are some guidelines to make the process more fun.

Enjoy! See you next week.

DON'T FORGET TO ADD YOUR NAME TO MR. LINKY!!!!!

Would that We Could Wage Peace

I hate war. It never seems like a good idea to me. What President Obama seems to be suggesting is trying to wage peace using the military. I don't know that that's possible, but it bothers me minimally less than just going into a country to kill people.

The truth is I don't have a clue as to what's the right thing to do or not to do. Most of the people who walk around opining on the subject don't either. We don't know all there is to know about what's going on in Afghanistan and Pakistan. We know some stuff and almost all of what we know - "news" being what it is today - is filtered through the lens of opinion and political bias.

Under our previous President, we invaded two countries. As Colin Powell said at the time, "you break it you buy it," so much as I wish we hadn't invaded these countries, I don't think we can just drop bombs on them and then say... "oops, my bad, see ya."

I don't know if President Obama is making the right choice. I know he has at least thought about it. He has at least listened to many voices. What some call "dithering," I call taking seriously putting human lives in the path of danger. Whether he has made the right decision or the wrong one - and I don't envy him the choice - he has taken it seriously.

I've been reading his book "Dreams from My Father," which I highly recommend. Beautifully written and very honest.

I hope his strategy works and accomplishes the mission of helping the Afghan people to defend themselves. I wish people would stop killing each other. I wish people would stop using God's name to kill each other. I wish people didn't get murdered and raped for gold or diamonds or oil. I wish politicians had less power to cause mayhem wherever they tread. I wish children didn't go hungry or die of preventable diseases. I wish people didn't use Christianity and Islam and Judaism to justify killing one another. But alas, they do.

Most of all, I wish for Peace on Earth, for a world in which nobody goes hungry or homeless for any reason. I wish that people for whom the holy dollar is more important than the lives of their fellow citizens would stop talking about what would Jesus do and start doing what he would do. I wish that we lived in a world where we looked for the good and not the bad in our fellow beings, where we nurtured creativity and hope and joy and the natural gifts that every child is born with.

I wish we weren't adding to war. It may be the right decision, but I wish - right or wrong - that it was a decision no world leader will ever have to make again.

U.S. Army Chain of Command

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Happy Thanks-Giving

Best wishes from Angel, Tara Grace and Me

Ruby Tuesday: Bragging and Giving Thanks

It's Ruby Tuesday (hosted by Mary the Teach at Work of the Poet) and I'm cheating. I didn't take all of these photos, but I've wanted to brag about my nephew Matthew, for a while and I thought Ruby Tuesday might be a good day to do it.

I'm still struggling to get back to the rhythm and spirit of blogging and haven't quite managed to do so, but what better way to get into the holiday and the blogging spirit than some Ruby Tuesday visits?



There are so many things to be grateful for in life. My sisters children are among the greatest blessings life has offered me. Today I wanted to share about my nephew Matt, who, besides being a brilliant computer genius and wonderful person is a great chef. Food is kind of Thanksgivingy, isn't it? Anyway, Matt decided to change the course of his life some years back and attended and graduated from the world-famous Culinary Institute of America in Poughkeepsie, New York. Matt has since married and moved to Canada so this post is particularly directed to those of you who live in or may visit Toronto. Matt has a catering business called The Little Kitchen and he's running a contest right now with monthly winners.

Distance and circumstance mean that I haven't been lucky enough to taste his cuisine (though I have a promise of one day soon). I've heard about it, though, from his sisters, both of whom rave about it. Diana, who is the vegan, told me that she still dreams about the meal he made for her. Cindy says his food is awesome. But lest you think that's just family loyalty, here's a review - with photos - from Rockr & Junkii who got to enjoy one of these free meals... and here are some photos.... Doesn't he cook pretty?

Shrimp with Charmoula Sauce

grapefruit and red beet salad with tarragon and gribiche

Tarragon Ice Cream beet gelee, Grapefruit candy

As long as I'm doing commercials, anyone who loves rocks, aromatherapy, and all things esoteric should check out my friends' website - Beyond the Rainbow. There's a half price sale on lots of good things. I met Connie and Joyce when I lived in New York. They had a small store on Greenwich Avenue where my love of the beauty of rocks and crystals was re-awakened. I also had my first aura photo taken in their shop and they became my reiki teachers. They have had a huge impact on my life. They're good people and their website is worth checking out if you have the time and are looking for some unusual and special holiday gifts.

This was taken after a healing workshop
I participated in years ago.

Below are some of the rocks in my collection. If you look really hard most of the photos have a tiny spot of red somewhere, but not all, for which I apologize. But I love the stones so I put there pictures in anyway in hopes that nobody would mind.











This isn't a very Thanksgivingish post, but it does have food in it so...

I try to be grateful every day. There is so much to be grateful for in even the worst of times. For today, I'm grateful for my sister's children and that I think they are all very happy. I'm grateful for friends - live and cyber. I'm grateful for beauty, whether it be clouds in a blue sky, trees (in winter or summer dress), or my beautiful rocks. I'm grateful for my sweet kitties and for life itself.

For those in the US, I wish you a joyful Thanksgiving this Thursday, rich in love and good food. For those elsewhere. May every day for all of us around the globe be rich in small thanks givings. and may it too be rich in love and joy and peace.

Happy Ruby Tuesday!

Saturday Wordzzle Challenge: Week 90

This is week 90 of the Saturday Wordzzle Challenge. Anyone new to the process can refer back here to find out how it works.

Just a reminder that there will be no Wordzzle next week. We'll return on December 4th with words which have been graciously supplied by Argent. The Dragons will be pleased, I'm sure, that they are all single words. None of my nasty multi-word phrases. Thanks Argent. After another struggle with today's words, I'm starting to think maybe there should be a rule that I'm not allowed to come up with the words any more.... Looking forward to seeing what other's have done with them.


This week's words were: love is a many splendored thing, trucks, inspector, symbols, rising, organic, liberation, costly, smug, naughty And for the mini: the nature of the beast, identical, charcoal, braggart, vacation



My mega:

Inspector Amberson Trucks couldn't help himself. Curiosity was the in the nature of the beast as they say and even on vacation the police detective in him was on the alert. And there was something about the smug, loud-mouthed braggart at the table next to him in the costly suit opining loudly on topics ranging from organic food to animal liberation that had his suspicions rising by the minute. As their escort gabbed on about charcoal broiled steak being a symbol of the decadence of the human species, the women with him, who looked like identical twins, fidgeted uncomfortably in their seats. They seemed uncomfortable in their fancy clothes - like naughty children who had broken into their mother's closet. Madeleine Trucks, meanwhile, sat watching her husband. She knew the signs, knew that if she didn't find a way to divert him, the next days would be spent investigating ordinary people he perceived to be felons. Frustrating as it was, she couldn't help loving his imagination and his passion. She had once told him that he should write mysteries but he had been unamused. Eventually they had come up with a code to try and pull him back and she could see it was time now to act. "Amberson, my love," she whispered, tapping him on the shoulder, "Love is a many splendored thing, but it has its limits. You owe me $100 for every minute you spend inventing work while we're on vacation." "Melly, my love," he replied, "I married a wise woman. Consider me duly chastised. You know I can't afford that price."



The mini:


The vacationing Braggart Brothers were identical twins whose band, Charcoal and Gray, had recently released their first album. Must to their amazement the album - The Nature of the Beast - had gone platinum almost over night. They were trilled of course, but had not anticipated the nature of fame. Reduced to dining in their room and sneaking out at night, they were now hoping to come up with disguises which would conceal both their identities and the fact that they were twins. "Fame," they both muttered in unision, "is not what it's cracked up to be."




The 10-word: love is a many splendored thing,


Nancy Naughty as the other truckers called her - her real name was Nancy Nawton - could feel her temper rising as the smug inspector (humming "Love is a Many Splendored Thing) as began the process of slowly, slowly, slowly torturing her with continued delays. Ever since she had turned down his request for a date six months earlier, he had harrassed her at every turn. Each time she reached his check point, he inspected every inch of her truck six times and in between refrains of that stupid song, peppered her her with absurd quibbles, even questioning the symbols on the crates of organic produce she regularly hauled to market. Every time he stopped her truck, he gave her a hard time. He had even gone so far as to red flag her with the other inspectors causing her untold embarrassment and time. The delays were costly not just to her but to the farmers who trusted her to get their food to the market as fresh as possible. Today she had arrived with a pre-set plan. On arrival she had begun transmitting video of the inspection process to the chief inspector's office. Fifteen minutes into the process, when the station phone rang, she knew she had won. No longer smug, the inspector barked curtly, "your free to go." Liberation at last! "Love may be a many splendored thing," she laughed, climbing happily back into her truck, but so are friend in high places."

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Thank you again to Argent for coming up with the words for December 4th... after our US Thanksgiving break next week. I love a break from coming up with words/phrases.


Words for next week's 10-word challenge are: edge, haven, sunglasses, sprightly, telling, frazzled, juicy, quartet, tied, necklace


And for the mini: bees, crackling, wooden, staple, earful

Thanks for playing. For those who are new, here are some guidelines to make the process more fun.

Enjoy! See you next week.

DON'T FORGET TO ADD YOUR NAME TO MR. LINKY!!!!!

The Clinton Foundation

These are a few of the programs that the Clinton Foundation is working on. There are dozens more of these little video statements, each very impressive, I thought. I'm awed by the range of programs and issues this Foundation has taken on. If you're interested in seeing more of what they are doing, you can go here and watch the other videos.

World Toilet Day

I'm still not back in my blogging groove and apologize to everyone because my posts of late have been rather random and lazy and worse than that my visits to others have been even more random and far between. I am grateful that anyone still visits.

And speaking of gratitude and things we take for granted, it turns out that there really is a day for everything. Today is World Toilet Day which is part of a campaign to help raise awareness of how very many people in this world (2.5 BILLION!!!!) live without something most of us in the developed world take for granted. That said, even in the US, much to my horror, there are those who live without adequate indoor plumbing. In the year 2009, that's pretty shocking. Anyway, you can send a card to help raise awareness if you'd like by going to Care2.com. You might want to check out Water for People too, since they are the sponsors of World Toilet Day. Here's the one I sent out to people who I knew (hope) will still love me even if I send them cards about toilets.

Psalm 109 - Distorting Faith and Love of Country

There is apparently a "movement," (a something) afoot using Psalm 109 as a subtle death-threat against our President. So-called Christians sport bumper stickers saying "Pray for Obama: Psalm 109.8. Psalm 109, verse 8 reads as follows:

"May his days be few; may another take his place of leadership."

The verse which follows says:

"May his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow."

This is Christianity? This is love of country? I wonder how people who carry such signs or put bumper stickers on their cars or wear t-shirts like this manage to rationalize it with Christian teaching. I wonder how they distinguish themselves from groups like the Taliban who use similar language, simply against different targets. Hate is hate and wishing death on anyone is about as anti-God as you can get in my understanding of all the great faiths. I think God - by whatever name one calls Him or Her - must weep at such things. I believe it hurts the souls of those who espouse it and I believe it wounds the soul of the Universal consciousness, in other words, all of us. I believe that it wounds God. I know it wounds me.

I loathed the previous administration. I wanted to see them out of office and I would have no trouble seeing them put in jail for actions which I believe to be criminal, but never ever ever ever did it occur to me to advocate for their murder... or even to wish it. If I'm going to be totally honest (and I do try to), I will confess that I had moments when I wished a house would fall on the previous administration, but I always stopped myself and asked for forgiveness and said a prayer for them when such ugliness seeped into my thinking. I tried very hard to distinguish my disgust for their political actions from them as human beings. At my worst, the idea of calling for their deaths is simply inconceivable to me. I don't wish terrorists put to death either. Just locked up. Vengeance turns us into what we hate. Vengeance is poisonous as hate is poisonous. Or that's what I believe.

In any case, I find this new "cute" coded hatred very troubling. It's not cute. There are too many crazy people out there having their fears and paranoia and racism fed by people like Glenn Beck, Sara Palin, Michele Bachmann and too many others to list. As the history of Nazi Germany and groups like Al Quaeda and the Taliban prove, a small number of people bent on hate can do profound damage in this world. It is often asked - where are the moderate Muslims when terrorist spew hate. I would ask, where are the voices of Christianity as some of their fellows are preaching hate in the guise of prayer?

To try to put your own hatred into the mouth of God seems particularly obscene to me, particularly hypocritical and un-Christian. I can't imagine but God's heart must break when people justify hate in his name. Too often those who shout their love of God the loudest use it to justify the ugliest aspects of human emotions, whether it is saying that God hate's gays or asking us to pray for the death of our President.

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My prayer is for peace in our hearts and in the world. That we can disagree without being disagreeable. My prayer is that we listen to the voices of our better angels and that we pray for peace in the hearts of those who are lost in hate... whatever their faith may be.

The Wisdom of a Child

There's something wonderful about children's purity of spirit when they are passionate about something. This is an interview with a 10-year old boy in Arkansas who has decided that he won't say the Pledge of Allegiance until we live up to the words - particularly in allowing equality for gay people. He's very articulate. Too bad more of us don't have the courage to stand up (or in his case sit down) for what we think is right. He's not gay, by the way, he just thinks it's wrong that everyone doesn't have equal rights.

Saturday Wordzzle Challenge: Week 89

This is week 89 of the Saturday Wordzzle Challenge. Anyone new to the process can refer back here to find out how it works. Not too happy with anything I've done here today. Had a hard time and lots of inner resistance, so I'm pretty much grateful that I got anything done at all. Not going to proof or re-read because I'll just get all nutty and want to redo them so... Hope you all had a better time with these than I did.


Just to help myself remember and to give everyone an early heads-up, I think maybe we will take a Thanksgiving break the week after next since I'm sure people - in the States, at least - will be busy cooking and eating and shopping and not really want to add wordzzles to their list.... and I think I need a mini break for myself too.


Words for this week's challenge were: officer, candid, drowning, turtles, sugar-coated, prospecting, shame on you, recliner, luggage, brains And for the mini: paragon of virtue, cats-in-the-cradle, swamp, sprinkles, garbage



My mega:

Lost in a world of drowning turtles
Shame on you seems not enough to say
Swamps of sugar-coated garbage
Oozes from the lips of fake paragons of virtue
Playing cats-in-the-cradle with everyone's future
Greed trumping all
Politicians lie and obfuscate
Their luggage filled with cash and campaign slogans
Prospecting for votes they say anything
Their words so candidly self-serving
Even the most feeble minds,
Sprawled in their recliners
Sprinkles of sawdust falling from their brains
Must know they lie
What are we to do when our leaders
The officers who make the law
Care only about the political game
And when those who are supposed to hunt for truth
Hunt for ratings instead
I must admit to some despair
When hypocrites rule the stage
And keep us all so polarized that
We forsake our highest good
To someone else's greed
My beloved nation dies a thousand slow deaths
And turtles drown



My mini:


My cat Sprinkles is no paragon of virtue, that's for sure, but he somehow manages to be lovable no matter what he's done. When I came home last week, tired and already out of sorts from a long day at the office to find a tipped over garbage can and a swamp of debris on my kitchen floor, I was ready to scream but then hubs, who had walked in behind me carrying the baby Sam, called out "bring your camera, that stupid cat's in the cradle" - and there he was, sleeping as sweet as an angel. Since baby has outgrown it, he has taken to curling up in there after his naughty rampages. His way of reminding me, I guess, that he was my baby first before the fur-less interloper arrived. So I took his picture and tip-toed out to the kitchen to clean up the mess and make dinner for all three of my boys.



And the 10-word: , candid, drowning, sugar-coated, shame on you,


Officer Fred Turtles shook his head sadly as he looked at his father sprawled out on the recliner, where he had obviously crashed the night before dead drunk. He walked quietly into his father's bedroom and packed enough luggage for a month at the rehab clinic. Making some breakfast and a pot of coffee, he began desperately prospecting his brain for the right memory or the right words with which to confront his troubled parent. He didn't want to approach him with some kind of shame-on-you lecture, but he knew the message couldn't be sugar-coated either. As he struggled with these thoughts his father walked into the kitchen groggily said, "Morning, Freddie, guess I must have fallen asleep in my chair." "Yeah, Dad. Looks like. I made you some coffee and breakfast." "Right thoughtful, Fred," the old man said, "I can use it." Candid, Fred finally decided. Just have to bite the bullet and tell it like it is. "Dad," he stammered, "I love you and I think you're drowning and I want you to get help. You're an alcoholic, Dad. I've booked a room for you at the rehab clinic. I know you miss Mom, but I don't think she'd want this for you. I..." His father raised his hand to silence him and his heart skipped a beat. "It's ok, son. You don't have to persuade me. I know you're right and I'm grateful. And you're right about your Mom. She spoke to me in my sleep last night.... told me you were coming and that I needed to listen to you. I never knew her to be wrong when she was alive, so I guess I'd sure better listen to her now. I'm a lucky man. What's this place you're asking me to go to?" Letting out a big sigh of relief, Fred let a tear trickle down his cheek and whispered a silent thank you to his mother. "OakHaven," he replied to his father's question. I did a lot of research and it seems to be the best place around.




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Words for next week's 10-word challenge are: love is a many splendored thing, trucks, inspector, symbols, rising, organic, liberation, costly, smug, naughty


And for the mini: the nature of the beast, identical, charcoal, braggart, vacation

Thanks for playing. For those who are new, here are some guidelines to make the process more fun.

Enjoy! See you next week.

DON'T FORGET TO ADD YOUR NAME TO MR. LINKY!!!!!

Veteran's Day: Swords Into Ploughshares

I hate guns. I hate war. I hate violence, whether physical or emotional. I protested the War in Vietnam. I have been enraged by our unjustified invasion of Iraq. I have been troubled by our actions in Afghanistan.

Dianne at Forks off the Moment has posted eloquent words from war vets and a segment of one of my favorite ever poems, Dulce et Decorum, which was written during World War One by Wilfred Owens, who later died in that same war. The final line translates to "It is sweet and right to die for one's country." The poem, which references the poison gas used in WWI, reads as follows:

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped⁵ Five-Nines that dropped behind.

Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . .
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.

8 October 1917 - March, 1918

When I was young - unlike most young people - I tended to see things in shades of gray, probably because I was raised - and because it was my nature - to always try to put myself in the other person's shoes. In recent years I have grown more black and white, more polarized in my way of thinking and yet now I seem to be receding to shades of gray again. Second childhood? I don't know.

I know that I still hate war. I think it seldom does good. It just leaves dead and wounded in its wake. Seems to me that as with our children, our politicians and we ourselves give lots of lip service to how much we care but much less practical action. We care so much about our children but we underpay teachers and underfund education. We care so much about our soldiers but we send them into unrighteous wars, we send them under equipped and in recent days we send them for inhuman tours of duty that even the most grounded and stable human would have trouble enduring emotionally (forget physically) undamaged. We talk about supporting our troops, but we let them go without adequate psychological and physical care. We let them end up homeless and living on our streets. But we have a "day" for them and we say nice things about how swell they are and go on with our lives. We don't think much about h0w they are underpaid for what they do (I think this even though I am kind of anti military at my core) . We don't think about their wives/husbands and children who struggle to buy groceries and struggle with having their families broken by distance. Although my parents remained married for over 50 years, I don't think their relationship ever completely recovered from his absence during WWII.

We haven't even seen the tip of the iceberg yet of the Post Traumatic ravages of our current wars, wounds that aren't always visible but that devastate a life as badly or worse than the loss of a limb. Whatever I think of war, the soldiers who put themselves in harm's way, have a kind of courage I would never have and they have been forced to endure a kind of suffering in our name that nobody should ever endure. The wars they have engaged in in our name also ravage the lives and spirits of citizens in the countries we have invaded. They too must cope with the emotional trauma of living wrapped in violence. We may not be to blame for all of it, but we are to blame for some of it. It belongs to the collective guilt of all humankind.

That said, I am confused about Afghanistan. I confess to some confusion about how to deal with political entities like the Taliban and Al Quaeda who seem to have made hate, violence and the abuse of women into a religion. Do we give over a society to them? If our "military" goal is to defensively create a stable economy, is that really war in the terms I think of it. The dead bodies returning home would imply that it is. But we have entered into these countries and created havoc. Don't we bear some responsibility for leaving carefully? If I walk into your house and break a bunch of things, don't I have a duty to help you clean up my mess?

In the end, I just want all the killing to stop. In Afghanistan, in Israel, in the Sudan, in countries too numerous to list. I wish we would beat our swords into plow shares and use the money we spend on bombs to feed the hungry and cure the sick, to educate the illiterate, to care for the physical and emotional wounds of those young souls we have sent into battle. I want all the hate to stop. It's so easy to justify hate, to make excuses for killing. Israel blames the Palestinians and they blame Israel. We say we'll stop when the Taliban stops. Everyone claims God is on their side. My bet is that God isn't happy about any of us. I'm pretty sure "thou shalt not kill" was one of the very first ever rules the God of every faith laid down before his/her people. Yet off we march, society after society, faith after faith, claiming that massacring other human beings is noble. It never is. Not that individual soldiers don't act from nobility of heart and with greatness of spirit. Many do. But in the end, violence is never noble, it's just ugly. In the end, it just feeds off itself and becomes self-justifying.

Still, I don't know the best answers for how to back out of violence once we have got ourselves into the pit of war. I don't know. I just want peace. And I think we could do it if we tried. We could stop killing each other. How to get from where we are to where we should be is the tricky part.

So, I'm just digging myself deeper and deeper into confusion.

On this day, I hope we don't just wave flags and say how brave our Vets are. I hope we make sure that they get physical and psychological treatment. I hope we make sure that they don't end up living on the streets. I hope we make sure that their families get enough to eat and get psychological care to help them deal with the prolonged absenses of mothers and fathers, uncles and brothers and sisters. I hope we move from words to deeds.

I should go back and reread what I have drizzled out from my fingertips, but if I do, I'll never get this posted. My apologies for any typos and more-so for any incoherence.

I guess I'll close this confused hodge-podge ramble of words with the thoughts of some veterans of our current wars:

Peace Be Unto All of Us.