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Potential Storm Brewing

June 6, 2016 4:11 pm / 7 Comments on Potential Storm Brewing

No, not the one down in the Gulf of Mexico soon to invade Florida, that would be Hurricane Colin. This storm would be on the Eastern Shore of Maryland if I didn’t get the house ready for the return of the Mrs.

After being up north, Connecticut, My Lady returned last week. In the nick of time all the Honey Do’s were wrapped up. Fresh sheets were on the bed, the table was cleared of clutter and I escaped any thought of a storm. The Hoover did a great job as well.

Things did change immediately upon her arrival. Healthy Eating 101 was back in style, no more subs from Jersey Mikes. Hey, they were quick, and I love the shredded lettuce. The cat would once again get to drink from the spigot, it took me the entire three weeks to break the feline from jumping up while I shaved. Simon says, “turn on the water. Please!”

Google Images

Notice the placement of the clothes pins, equal distance apart. Oh yes, part of the hanging and folding ritual. Folding is a true art form. The center line fold sets the demarkation point for placement on the bed. The Tri-fold for the pillow cases shall be exact. Must be something she was taught back in nursing school in the early 60’s. She was never in the military. She could starch a pair of Utilities back in the day though. Gotta be an old Marine to understand that one.

The first thing this morning I got the Sheets and Pillow Cases on the line. The chickens provided some much-needed oversight.

I consider myself a multi-tasker. Love the Zagg keyboard on the iPad by the way.The late Pat Conroy and I have something in common, no, not writing skills, though I wish. We also lived in Beaufort, SC at one time. We carried our four-month old daughter to the pool in a Schmidt’s, quart beer case for a late night swim . We had a piece of screen over it so the Skeeters wouldn’t eat her up. That was back in my Marine Corps days. Mr Conroy’s dad was a Marine also. Wow, two things in common. The book behind the coffee cup is WordPress for Dummies. My Journal, two years continuously in September I proudly state, is under the iPhone. The shoe horn is used to fit everything in my bag, quickly due to herself’s pending arrival.

In chatting with the wife a few days ago she said, “I’ll bet there are all kinds of electronics and wires all over the dining room table.” “No” says I,” Just the normal place setting.” Liar, Liar, tongue’s on fire

Gotta get the place looking like it did when she left three weeks ago. Otherwise there will be one heck of a storm brewing

Well, I survived and it’s been great having her back home, if only briefly. She will return to CT soon and give my sister a helping hand as she mends a broken hip which was surgically repaired yesterday. We’ve solved all the world’s issues on our front porch while enjoying a cold glass of wine. I’ve gotten some gardening done, Pickling Cucumbers for one. My Lady shall be canning come September. And once again “The Hallmark Channel” graces the TV. Other than a Nat’s baseball game, it was not on during those three weeks.

Homemade Refrigerator Pickles

So please note, I can correct disarray in a flash and shall have a chance to do it all again soon.

Thanks for stopping by.

Semper-fidelis

As we end the month of May, 2016

May 29, 2016 12:36 pm / 4 Comments on As we end the month of May, 2016

The Davies

Four years ago in the bright sunshine of Denver Colorado. two children of God were united in Marriage. Second Lieutenants Samantha Berthiaume and Zed Davies, recent Air Force Academy graduates were ready to begin their lives as one family.

As a grandparent I’d like to say I’m as proud as a Peacock, but I wont. I mean really, how can a Rooster say something like that. That big multi colored flowing train is just not in my genetic makeup.The Rooster is proud of you and he thanks you for your service. Oh, and thanks for the Great grandkids also.

Wedding Day

Four years later, having lived in Florida, Mississippi and Oklahoma, the parents of three children were promoted to Captain in a joint ceremony at Tinker, AFB, Oklahoma this past week.

Taking the Oath @ promotion to Captain

I, [name], do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.^[1]

We can be thankful to those that will take this oath. God Bless America and the 1% who do.

Our future is in good hands.

A future astronaut practices launch position.

Honoring the Fallen

As we end the month of May 2016, let us take a moment and pay our respects through thought and prayer to those who have made the ultimate sacrifice for you and I.

I feel we can celebrate what we have on this Memorial Day by remembering what the memorializing was for. As young boy growing up in Audubon, New Jersey I still vividly recall the 21 gun salute fired at the American Legion in honor of those who sacrificed their lives in WW II. Here are those memorials at Murray – Trout Post #262.

Memorials to the fallen.

Red Poppys commemorated the Day

From Legion.org

Memorial Day is a federal holiday in the United States for remembering the people who died while serving in the country’s armed forces.^[1] The holiday, which is observed every year on the last Monday of May,^[2] originated as Decoration Day after the American Civil War in 1868, when the Grand Army of the Republic, an organization of Union veterans founded in Decatur, Illinois, established it as a time for the nation to decorate the graves of the Union war dead with flowers.^[3] By the 20th century, competing Union and Confederate holiday traditions, celebrated on different days, had merged, and Memorial Day eventually extended to honor all Americans who died while in the military service.^[1] It typically marks the start of the summer vacation season, while Labor Day marks its end.

Pinterest.com

The poppy flower adorned the battlefields of Flanders Field in France during World War I, and was looked upon by those serving as a living symbol of their fallen comrades’ sacrifices. In 1920 after World War I, the poppy became the official flower of The American Legion Family to memorialize the soldiers who fought and died during the war, and distribution of poppies became a Legion national program in 1924. To this day, thanks in large part to the American Legion Auxiliary, the poppy is nationally recognized and worn as a symbol of sacrifice made by the men and women who served and died for their country during a time of war.

From Wiki

Thank you once again for stopping by.

Semper-fidelis

3 9 3

May 24, 2016 2:27 pm / Leave a comment

Forward

Because we have had three wonderful children, nine grandchildren and so far three great – grandchildren, thus the 3-9-3. That third number will change as the family does grow. At the end of Alex Blackwell’s posts there are always share prompts. If you follow the Roster’s blog regularly you’ll know I share and forward. Alex Blackwell has once again said it well and I shall not clutter things up.

I have left Ireland, the sun shines on the Eastern Shore of MD, and this is my blogging venue for today. We are back in Summer time mode. Could my friend Robert Lambert Jones III have been whispering in the ear of Helios?

Other than to say, God bless my 3-9-3, their mothers and fathers and thank you to all who help them grow. Enjoy the read and thanks for stopping by the Chicken Coop.

Semper-fidelis

Step with care and great tact, and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. – Dr. Seuss

From the hand of Alex Blackwell, The Bridgemaker.

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Mary Beth turns 50 next weekend and we’re heading to Atlanta to celebrate.

When considering what my wife wanted to do for her milestone birthday, there was no hesitation: Let’s visit Brandon, Ashley, Blair and Baylor.

Being a Papa

It’s been five months since we’ve last seen our oldest son, his wife and our two beautiful granddaughters. We were there when Baylor was born. Since then we have had to settle on watching our granddaughters grow and change on Facebook and Facetime.

But in less than a week we get to hold them – play with them – kiss them, and love them.

Along with excitement of going to Atlanta, is the awareness that I’m still learning how to be a good grandfather. My role as a father will never end, so I’m discovering how I can continue to be accessible as a parent while having plenty left over for my grandchildren – now and in the future.

But being a Papa is easier than expected because my son and daughter-in-law are great parents. And since I’m not responsible for the girls’ day-to-day needs, I think being a good grandfather means I can spend my time offering them love and the little bits of wisdom I’ve managed to collect over the years.

So, as I prepare for next week’s visit, and many more visits to come over the years, here’s the wisdom I plan to share with my granddaughters:

Your source of strength is limitless because you were born with a purpose only you can fulfill. There’s no one in the world – past, present or future, who possesses the same gifts as you. Place your trust in these gifts and when the opportunity to use them is obvious, use them with passion and confidence.
Trust your parents. They might not always understand what you are saying or doing, but they will always understand that you deserve their love. By giving their unconditional love to you creates a bond so strong that when you make a mistake, or feel lost, you can rely on your parent’s love to soften the blow. Trust them. Even when you can’t see them, know their arms will be stretched out, waiting.
Never stop playing. Jump, dance, and skip every chance you get. Color, draw or sketch when you are in the mood. Recharge your spirit by doing what you enjoy. Sometimes when problems seem that they are about to swallow you up, it can be hard to remember to have fun, too. So, find time to let go and play.
You are beautiful. No matter what people may say or how you might feel, you are beautiful. You don’t need to be perfect to be beautiful, you just need to listen to your heart. When you listen, I mean really listen by tuning out the other noise around you, you will hear your heart cheering for you because it’s a vessel God uses to pour out His love. Let that wonderful stream cover you. When you do, it will leave you feeling worthy, valuable and simply beautiful.
A valuable life isn’t always found in what you do or what you have; a valuable life begins with understanding that the point of being alive is to love as much as you can along the way. A valuable life is about giving love to yourself when you need it and giving love to others when it’s requested. A valuable life is about sharing your heart when you are ready. A valuable life is measured by the times you trade your mistakes for grace; bitterness for forgiveness and hate for love.

Written on the Heart

There will be plenty to celebrate and cherish next weekend. Though our time there will be short, no doubt it will be filled with plenty of laughter, good food and lots of love.

One more thing I’ve learned is there’s something beautiful, even magical about the sight of a new family growing together. The sweet anticipation of the present moment, and the moments yet to come, create an energy so full of hope that its power, if bottled, can overcome any difficulty.

I can’t wait to add more to what’s going into the bottle so it can be dispensed when needed.

Alex BlackwellThe BridgeMaker Founder Alex Blackwell is the author of Letting Go: 25 True Stories of Peace, Hope and Surrender. Join the community to connect, share and inspire: Twitter | Facebook | More Posts

Thank you once again Alex.

I Know I’m Irish and a Writer

May 22, 2016 3:11 pm / 2 Comments on I Know I’m Irish and a Writer

I awoke this morning at 0550, which is in the usual time frame of when I arise daily. On this day I knew I must be Irish. As I glanced out the window, clouds and rain were present once again. The 53 degree temperature outside had made the house cool, especially when one is in drawers and a Tee shirt.

The view this morning out the window.

I would go to the living room and get a fire going in the fireplace. Thanks to modern technology I had only to click a button on the starter gadget to get the propane to fire and bring instant warmth were you to stand in front of the flames. Twenty eight yers ago I would have been stoking a fire in the old Nashua cast iron stove in Connecticut.

In a month’s time we have had twenty-two days of measurable precipitation and our mean temperature’s have been 58f for a high and 48f for a low. One morning we awoke to a frost covered lawn and 35f. Oh yes, it’s Ireland, just 3,239 miles east of Galway is all. Please, let me experience some sun. Oh to sit outside in the garden and have a pint.

I consider myself a writer. I’ve been blogging since 2008. I started on Google, http://thefidd.blogspot.com/ was my moniker for the first seven years. Lots of stuff posted about family, friends, travel and such back then. It’s all retrievable should you care to take a look. Learn who El Jefe is and where he spends his time in this shrinking world of today.

I’ve branched out a bit since moving here to WordPress last year. I guess, thanks to the weather and the feeling of my living in Ireland that would make me feel like an Irish writer. Nothing to the tune from the likes of Beckett, Yeats, Joyce or Ian MacPherson from this hand, although I wish. I do add words to paper, ok, it’s the Mac, but that makes me a writer, right?

I’ve been to Europe on several occasions, Germany and Ireland to be specific. I’ve gotten to Ireland twice, most recently, not as an “Accidental Tourist.” “The Accidental Tourist” was an American film featured in Baltimore, MD, my home state and adapted from the novel of the same name written by Anne Tyler. The film came out in 1988, my first year to blog, thus the significance. Means nothing of course.

Our most recent trip to Ireland by my me and the wife was this past December. We traveled with a dear friend by the name of O’Leary who’s mother hosted us for a week. No touristy stuff, we were village people. The town was Kilkenny, we had mist and rain, cold and blustery and it felt like Maryland in May. The house we stayed in was warm, had a fireplace, a wonderful hostess and five pounds gained of great food. Marios is a great place for Fish and Chips if you’re ever in Kilkenny. Yep, I’m Irish and a writer and I eat like one and enjoy a pint now and then .

While in Kilkenny we shopped one day at a pottery, “Nicholas Mosse” is the name. Bennett’s Bridge is where Nicholas Mosse calls home. It sits along the river Nore, just down the road a piece from the town. It seems our host’s wife Lexi has a love for this pottery and has numerous pieces about their home. It being the Christmas season, why not get some shopping in says our host.

Me wife, standing in the rain. I just noticed, she was spending her euros also. Notice the bag.

Since I’m not much into pottery, or shopping for that matter, I would find an alternative means of occupying my time. Located on the second floor of the pottery was a quaint little Cafe. Some coffee, a sweet roll and a table by the window would serve me well. I’d read the local paper and gather material for the next blog. While the shoppers shopped, the writer researched. In Ireland on a rainy blustery day I might add a few words to a future best seller. Oh the dreams that exist. The coffee was fantastic and so was the view by the way. I’m really in Ireland and I’m writing.

The Rooster reading the local tabloid.

Yes, in one respect as far as I’m concerned, and the Weather God has made it such, I’m an Irish writer, even on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Ireland has her Cliffs of Moher. Maryland has her Calvert Cliffs.

Ian MacPherson has a new book out. The only one living of the lot I mentioned.

You can get it here. >

The dedication inside the cover reads like this.

For Maggi

my one wish –
that we die together
at the age of 96
making love

with all our children

at the bedside

That’s the dedication. Isn’t it truly, truly beautiful?
And they say great poetry is dead!

THE BOOK OF BLAISE
‘He is a standup comedian with an acerbic wit, leaving you breathless with laughter at the sheer absurdity of life, and his life in particular. To say that his act is based on things going wrong is like saying that Genghis Khan was a warmonger. It gives you the idea, but does not indicate the sheer scale of the enterprise. And The Book of Blaise is the Everest of absurdity.’
FOR THE JOY OF READING

‘Kick Myles Na GCopaleen into the next century and you’d get something like Ian Macpherson – the same eye for absurdity, the same ear for wordplay’
David Robinson: Emeritus Literary Editor – The Scotsman

‘The Book of Blaise is the unapologetically personal account of one man’s struggle with the superiority of women, specifically his wife Blaise. It’s the funniest book I’ve read since… his last one.’
NORTHWORDS NOW

Thanks once again for stopping by. The temperature, just to let you know is 58 degrees F., or should it be F’n degrees?

Get Milk

May 18, 2016 1:37 pm / 1 Comment on Get Milk

Yesterday was an exciting day for me, I was to attend my first Cardiac Rehabilitation class. On Monday I had the mandatory Stress Test to evaluate my ability to physically perform in Rehab. Somehow I passed the test, God knows I did not study. I’m guessing the 4,000 – 7500 steps I’ve been taking these past two months aided me a bit in that regard. I’ll get to that 10,000 step level before long. Keep putting one foot in front of the other Rooster.

I’m on my own for a few weeks. My wife has headed up to Connecticut to be a companion to my sister. My sister is having some health issues at the moment and my wife is out doing her Corporal Works of Mercy. It is a calling with this woman I married, she is amazing. It’s not her first walk around this block. My wife is a retired nurse as was this sister and another sister I have in Virginia is a nurse also. I also have have a daughter who is a nurse to add to the flock. If you are ever ill and are surrounded by women in this vocation, you shall get no pity. Just ask this writer. Oh, and just to mention, my mother in-law was a nurse also, God rest her sole.

Prior to leaving the house I wrote myself a note, “Remember Milk” it said. I usually place these reminders in front of the Speedometer of my car. A wise Lawyer once said in a Criminal Justice class I attended many years ago, “If it’s not written down, it didn’t happen.” At my age, in this time of my life, if it’s not written down it’s not going to happen.

SpeedCamera-with-Cruiser Now my wife who is several months younger than I, she writes little to nothing down, remembers groceries and such to include several weeks of stock in the larder. She will not need a shopping list to feed 37 at Thanksgiving. Her only memory loss, the placement of speed cameras on the roads she travels daily to get to the store. These edifices never move, they are stationary on cement pads. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Send $40 to the appropriate municipality. I’ve recently learned that there are several other ladies who have the same lapse in memory in our town. You are not alone my dear, I love you just the same. Write the check Rooster.

Upon my successful completion and survival of my first Cardiac Rehab session I gingerly walked to my car, got behind the steering wheel, and there was the note. “GET MILK” it said. I checked the wallet and had a twenty, no problem right? I mean whats a half gallon of milk cost, a twenty will surely cover it.

348s I pull into the local grocery store, in this case it was Giant, yes the same Giant with the easy scan self checkout machines. Dare I go this route again? I parked way far back from the entrance, the better to get more steps in you see. You also get a pull through spot that way, easy drive out. I keep track of my steps with my new Fit Bit Blaze watch.

I make the walk, entered the store, and started towards the far back right, bread by the way is at the far left rear. They get us to pass a plethora of items this way. I passed through the Wine and Beer aisle and noticed Starborough, Sauvignon Blanc Marlborough 2015 on sale for $10.99. This usually sells for $15.99. Two bottles in the cart, what a bargain.
I got to the rear of the store and the Dairy section, find my 1/2 gallon of milk, $3.49. Into the cart it goes. Why I didn’t just grab one of the hand carry basket I don’t know. Pushing the cart up the aisle past the juices, Simply Lemonade jumped right out to me. You see I enjoy an Arnold Palmer on those warm days, Ice Tea and Lemonade is how I make it. The sun is bound to appear sometime and things will warm up. Into the basket, $2.50, thank you very much.

light bulb idea

A light bulb went off and I remembered I had planned on having a left over Chicken and Apple Brat for lunch. A salad would go good with that I thought. Cut a diagonal to the far left rear of the store, more steps on my Fit Bit Blaze watch I’m thinking. In route to the Deli I pass the Grocery aisles, A sign jumps out at me, Quinoa 2 for $5.00. Not something my wife would purchase but I enjoy it. A can of Black and a can of Red Kidney beans said “take me” also, .79 cents. “Another bargain” says I. Glad I have the push cart now.

I paused as I passed the Coffee and Tea aisle. Did the wife get Tea last week I wondered? Into the cart goes Irish Breakfast and English Black Breakfast tea. The cost, $3.29 and $3.39.

I’m guessing the ten cents difference is due to the upgraded Pound Sterling compared to the Euro. The poor Irish, belittled again.

Just as I was exiting the aisle a box of Folger’s, Gourmet Columbian, Keurig single cup 12 pack jumped into my cart. My lady likes the milder beans you see. While the wife’s away, the grocer I’ll pay. I love my bold coffee. This stop only cost me $7.49. Ah, but I’ll have a smile on my face tomorrow morning.

From this pause in route I would finally continue to the Deli and purchase my Salad. I would choose a fresh Broccoli Crunch, the young lady was spooning the newly made item into it’s stainless steel bowl as I arrived. It doesn’t get any fresher than that. I asked for half pound and she nailed it, .50 lb, on the money. “How often does that happen” I say to myself. The cost, $2.30 for a half pound.

I would leave the Deli and finally head to the check out. As I approached the the check out, the lines were all full. I wandered to the left and the cursed Self Check Out. Over in the Produce area I faintly spied apples. I knew I was out, we only buy four at a time and I had consumed my four since I’d been left a single man last week. You guessed it, to Produce and four more apples. Fuji apples they were, $1.78 lb @ 1.99 / lb. Ka-Ching, $3.54 for the apples.

There just happens to be an old song by Shania Twain called “Ka-Ching” and it followed another song of her’s called “Gotcha Good.” Well Giant’s grocery store got me good, to the tune of $54.56, $1.98 of that was state tax by the way. All this for a 1/2 gallon of milk @ $3.49, Ka-Ching.

Hello Self Check out. Pay the bill and push the cart to the back of the parking lot, 2,362 steps, thanks Milk. I’m a bit healthier because of this experience.

Thanks for the look see.

Semper Fi

Grow a Pair: The Lost Art of Pushing Yourself and Overcoming Your Shark

May 17, 2016 10:03 am / 2 Comments on Grow a Pair: The Lost Art of Pushing Yourself and Overcoming Your Shark

lost-art-of-growing-a-pair-01
by Jordan Jones May 16, 2016

Forward by the Rooster

Once again I share with you a most recent post from ITS Tactical. Most of us have a fear of something, mine at the moment is Bacon and what it could do to my newly By-Passed arteries. I’ve kind of passed those physically challenging encounters that you youngsters out there, meet head on in today’s world. Are there demons out there you could push yourself to conquer? Do you know what they are, would you take the plunge?

Jordan Jones is the newest member of the ITS Crew, Jordan Jones is a Contributor on ITS. During his time in the Marine Corps, Jordan deployed overseas for 3 years and has experience as a member of FAST, PSD and FMTU teams. These days, he spends his time roaming around the ITS warehouse, packing and shipping customer orders. Jordan enjoys working out, shooting, bushcraft and Kali. He likes staying active and visiting with friends, family and his lovely lady.

If the title of the post rubs you the wrong way in this new politically correct world, get over it!

Grow a Pair

Cowboying up, opening a can of man, you get the idea. Call it what you will, but there’s a lesson to be learned in enduring the uncomfortable and pushing past your perceived barriers. A few weeks ago, I found myself as the last man standing in a beginner’s Scuba Diving class. It made me think that pushing yourself past your limits is fast becoming a lost art.

A Totally Natural Fear of Sharks

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First a little backstory. I, like many people with common sense and an innate need to stay alive, am afraid of sharks. From their cold lifeless eyes, to their evil tooth-filled grin, they give the impression that they’re happy to be a soulless killing machine. To put it plainly, they give me a solid case of the “heeby jeebies.” Most of us have a “shark” in our lives, but the important thing is not to run away and instead, learn to overcome these obstacles and push past them.

This brought me into the realm of Scuba Diving. Being in the modern Marine Corps, I didn’t see a lot of water; quite the opposite in fact. So the idea of staying underwater longer that it takes to egress (while holding my lucky horseshoe and thinking of petting kittens and rainbows) out of a downed helicopter was a new experience for me.

When considering the idea of learning to dive, I devoured any information I could on the matter. In addition, I spent time in the pool familiarizing myself with challenges I could face in such an environment. Before my first day of Scuba class, I learned to clear my mask underwater, how to swim with fins and also how to conserve energy/oxygen. I wanted to prepare for the class before actually attending.

The SCUBA Class

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My class started a few weeks ago with myself and six other adult men, in a local Scuba training center. As of now, I’m the last one in the class. Not because I’m some genetically-engineered frogman, but more because of my innate feeling to push past fears and mental blocks that we all need to drive us. It doesn’t matter whether it results in failure or success, it’s the effort that counts. If you want to succeed in something, you have to grow a pair and do it. If you never push yourself, you’ll never progress as a person.

The first three students washed out in the classroom before we’d even hit the water. They couldn’t be bothered to watch some videos at home in their free time. Our fourth member quit because he couldn’t get underwater without completely losing his mind. The final two would find themselves overcome by the deep, dark depths of 14 feet. After “surviving the hell of the depths,” aka sitting at the bottom of the pool practicing buddy breathing, the fifth student didn’t show up to the next class. It was now myself and one other student left.

At the next class, myself and the last remaining student arrived at the pool and huddled around our very patient instructor. We had to wait for a group of 6 year old girls practicing synchronized swimming to finish. After an intense round of instruction at the hands of their assumed Girl Scout leader, we gathered our gear and hit the water.

As we began our decent into the murky abyss of the community pool, we hit a snag. The other student was wearing a recently purchased wetsuit which wasn’t weighted down properly to make the descent. He’d attained the much sought after “neutral buoyancy” at a depth of 1 foot below the surface and was waving his arms and legs in an impressive display of interpretive dance.

lost-art-of-growing-a-pair-04

Our instructor casually rose to the surface and proceeded to add ten pounds or so (none of this metric crap) to the BC of the student (which I later learned was because of the wet suit and the panicked breaths the student was taking) and sank him to the bottom. After practicing finding and clearing our regulators, we moved onto mask clearings.

We filled the masks partially and I, in my awesome thought process, decided to lift my mask and allow water in from the bottom. This allowed water to shoot straight up my nose causing some less than fortunate side effects. After pinching my nose and swallowing the super-hydrating pool water, I cleared my mask and gave the okay sign to our instructor.

The focus was then shifted to my final companion, student number six. To his credit, he lifted from the top of his mask and allowed water to partially fill it. At that point, his eyes grew large and he motioned to the surface in a manner that likened him to Bill Paxton’s character in Aliens. “Game Over, Man. Game Over!” He then performed what I later learned from Bryan to be known as the undesirable “Pegasus Missile” maneuver, after hearing a story he told about a BUD/s instructor’s safety brief at the pool.

This maneuver involves over inflating your BC from depth in an emergency and shooting to the surface with dangerous speed before breaching like a blue whale, before plopping back onto the surface and bobbing in the water. After executing this maneuver, the student simply got out, packed his things and quickly departed before anyone could even make sure he was all right.

I started this hobby because I wanted to face my fear and swim with sharks. You just have to put in the effort. Whatever your “shark” is, don’t let those evil, cold-eyed sons of bitches get you to fail. Too many people these days hit a wall and decide that it’s too much and they can’t take it. Work past your fears, grow a pair and keep going.

Thanks to Jordan Jones, a fellow Marine, for his writing skill and his service to this wonderful country of ours. Thank you once again to Bryan Black for allowing me to share this with you. Check out ITS Tactical,

Click here to learn about all the benefits and Join!

ITS Logo

The Rooster thanks you once again for coming by to take a look-see. Have a great day.

Semper Fi

The Power of a Kiss

May 12, 2016 2:44 pm / 1 Comment on The Power of a Kiss

swift-attack.blogspot.com

Forward

Yesterday I said good-by to my wife with a kiss. She is heading north for a few weeks to spend some time with my Sister and Brother- in-law. My Sister is in the hospital at the moment and once home, my lady felt she could use a bit of a hand around the house. I’m incorporating the “My Lady,” due to my wife’s being enamored with Downton Abbey.

It seems the staff in that production call all the women “My Lady.” Here, south of the Mason Dixon line all women are referred to as “Miss” something or other. Miss Sue, Miss Aggie, Miss Ewe and so forth. Were we in Baltimore the term “Hon” is used between the sexes, especially in a restaurant when being served. “What’s you gonna order, Hon,” the waitress will say. “A dozen crabs” says I.

Today being Throwback Thursday, Alex Blackwell re-posted a blog from 2015 and it caught my eye and got me thinking of that departing kiss. I now look with anticipation to her return and giving her a welcome home kiss. Enjoy the post from Alex and please, enjoy your next kiss.

The Power of a Kiss

By Alex Blackwell on Feb 22, 2015

The-Kiss

Kissing is like drinking salted water. You drink, and your thirst increases. – Chinese Proverb

The Kiss (above) was painted by Austrian painter Gustav Klimt in 1909. A print of Klimt’s masterpiece hangs in my house. It serves as a mirror by reflecting the urgency, passion and sweetness a kiss can have.

Even though I’m familiar with the painting, I’m no art expert. My tastes run from Thomas Kincaid’s Christmas Miracle to Van Gogh’s Starry Night. I like what I like. And like most people, certain art has the ability to grab my attention and speak to me.

So, when I catch a glimpse of The Kiss, my soul is reminded of how powerful a kiss can be.

Sensual (sometimes) and Heartfelt (always)

Gazing at the entangled couple symbolizes the power a kiss can have. In that moment, kissing and being kissed is the only thing that matters. At least, this is what the painting says to me.

The painting also whispers that a kiss can be amazing – magnificent – life changing. But unlike the man and woman depicted on Klimt’s canvas, the art tells me that not all kisses have to be sensual to be powerful – they just have to be heartfelt.

Consider the times you have been kissed or have kissed. Consider the power of each kiss. Kisses like…

– The kiss you get when you have been missed.
– The kiss you give when someone has done something amazing.

– The kiss you get when you’ve been kind.
– The kiss you give to show your thankfulness.

– The kiss that says, “Everything will be alright.”
– The kiss you give for no reason at all.

– The kiss that pronounces you are a great mom or dad.
– The kiss that reminds your daughter she is a gift.
– The kiss that reminds your son he is never alone.

– The kiss that lets you know that you’re being craved.
– The kiss that tells your partner desire is still there.

– The kiss that reveals your soul
– The kiss that lets you see someone else’s soul.

– The kiss that puts a stamp on love
– The kiss that puts two faces together so the beautiful imperfections can be loved deeper.

– The kiss that is stolen and then returned by the willing accomplice
– The kiss that feels like happiness

Creating Your Masterpiece

Who will you kiss today with heartfelt intention? Who will know how much they are loved by the power of your kiss?

– With the power of a kiss I will show Mary Beth that I am hers to hold forever.
– With the power of a kiss I will show Brandon how proud I am of the man he has become.
– With the power of a kiss I will show Caitlin how happy I am for her.
– With the power of a kiss I will show Andrew how pleased I am with the passion he has chosen.
– With the power of a kiss I will show Emily that she is simply amazing.

My family is my masterpiece. And like the brush strokes on a canvas, I will paint them with love, and the power of a kiss, every chance I get.

Alex Blackwell The BridgeMaker Founder Alex Blackwell is the author of Letting Go: 25 True Stories of Peace, Hope and Surrender. Join the community to connect, share and inspire: Twitter | Facebook | More Posts

Once again, thanks for stopping by, chew a mint, seize the moment, enjoy and savor your next kiss.

Semper Fi

Turtle Crossing

May 2, 2016 7:10 am / 1 Comment on Turtle Crossing

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Bear Tales photo.

Since I’m on a road trip, actually today is our last day, I’m using the thoughts and life’s experiences of my amazing granddaughter in Oklahoma to fill a few lines of my blog today.

Sam doesn’t get to post a lot, wife, mother of three under four, full-time U.S.A.F. Officer and Youth Religion teacher in her church seems to keep her busy.

If you’re ever for lack of something to read, give Sam a look-see at her blog: https://adayinmylife.org/

New post on A Day in my life
Save a Turtle
by c12samb
I’ve been thinking about the content of this post a lot the past few weeks and my brain has finally connected it all together.

2014may23turtlephoto

Z is currently out-of-town and I miss his help most in the mornings. Between taking a shower, nursing D, feeding the girls, dressing everyone, feeding myself, loading everyone and everything and getting out the door on time…it’s a struggle every morning. This past week was no exception. As I pulled out of the development I realized I had not closed the garage door. I pull into the nearest driveway and turn around. As I turn back into our development I notice a turtle. Did I stop and help him to cross the road? Of course not! I was running late. As I approach the house, of course, the garage door is down; I had closed it.

I loop back through the development and upon reaching the development entrance, a SUV is stopped and a woman is helping the turtle to cross the road. This is when the post came together for me.

We all have done this. We’ve either helped or been too busy to help. What we fail to realize when we choose not to help is that the turtle does not know he needs our help. This is true for people in life. There are so many times that we stay in our bubble; too busy to help, too busy to ask how someone is doing, too busy to pick up the phone.

We need to stop being too busy and too consumed with things that don’t matter. I was already running behind. How long would it have taken me to stop, move the turtle and continue on my way? 30-90 seconds? How long does it take to walk around the office and say “Hey, how was your weekend”.

Below is a great TED talk that fits with this perfectly. My commander showed it to my squadron during a Commander’s Call and I love it.

TED talk on how to make stress your friend

People don’t know they need help until help is offered. These past few weeks I have received help I didn’t know I needed. I realized I didn’t have it as “together” as I thought I did. We all need to be taken care of and we all need to take care of.

Thanks Sam, and thanks to my readers for coming by.

Where was this road-trip you took Rooster? The wife and I ventured north to our former home of Connecticut and spent a few nights getting free room and board at our son’s in Tolland, CT. We got to visit my sister who’s been a bit under the weather of late. We went to my Brother’s Tag-Sale. I picked up a S & W knife, a Giraffe Bank, needs some TLC, and an oil camping lamp. All items to be given away. Remember my post “Elder Abuse.”

We attended a Sheep , Wool and Fiber Fest at the Tolland, CT TAC grounds. Our two Connecticut granddaughters have had adopted Alpacas in the past. We saw granddaughter Jill play in a HS softball game, Tolland vs. E.O. Smith. Had food from our favorite past Eatery, Vernon Pizza and caught up with what we’ve missed since our last visit in December.

The trip up was something new, as the trip back is also. I’ll make that a blog for another day. Talk to you all again soon.

Semper-fidelis

Growing up Methodist

April 29, 2016 7:53 pm / 4 Comments on Growing up Methodist

Audubon, NJ United Methodist Church

I grew up during those youthful years until, I’m guessing age fourteen, a Methodist. At one point I even sang in the choir, I still look back and chuckle at this.

My biological parents separated when I was two and divorced by the time I was about five. Both my parents lived in the same town and I was shared back and forth for a number of years prior to age eight or nine when my father moved from South Jersey (Exit 3 of the Turnpike area) to Connecticut. Everybody in Jersey lives off an exit of one highway or another. At one time I lived off Exit 4 of the Garden State Parkway. One of the best years of my youth was spent in Wildwood Crest, more stories for an other day. My mother and I would live for a number of years after the separation with my great grandparents in a second floor apartment.

Living next door was the man my mother would ultimately marry when I turned ten years old. That man lived with his mother and father and they were Methodist. Oh were they Methodist. Ultimately my newly wed mother would have two daughters and they were raised Methodist also. One sister sang and directed their choir for a time.

Every Sunday until age fourteen it would be, get on the church bus and go off to Sunday School. Sometimes, especially when I was in the choir, I would do church also and there was always a coffee and, after the service. No playing football on Sunday, no card playing ever and a whole bunch of rules I thought, “Really?” Did I mention no Alcohol or smoking either.

I can remember getting 35 cents for the collection when the dish was passed. I also remember getting off the bus on occasion in my teens, going in one door of the multi purpose room and out the other and playing hooky more than once. My mother has passed away so I’ll not be damned for telling that story. My self and a neighbor friend would go to a local corner store, buy a soda and candy and head to a local vacant lot where the Catholics were always playing a football game. They mostly went to church on Saturday evening. It was difficult explaining the grass stains at times. I’m sure I’ll atone for these transgressions at a later date.

I would rebel around age fourteen or fifteen, start going to a Lutheran church, my paternal side of the family’s house of worship and ultimately become a Catholic when I married my wife over fifty years ago. I went through that educational process while I was in the Marine Corps. I remain a Catholic to this day.

Today in our little village on Maryland’s Eastern Shore, the Methodists prevail. Our Methodist Women’s group are always cooking up a storm, feeding this group or that, having Teas and just plain bringing comfort food to the people of the village. God bless those Methodists.

Allen Asbury Methodist Church

My wife and I recently took a trip to Connecticut to visit our son and his family and my step-sister and her husband. We spent 20 years as next door neighbors to my step-sister. We lived in a tight-knit community on a Cul De Sac and had a great batch of neighbors.

We got to see one of those neighbors while at my sisters. Her name is Judy, a life long Methodist and her husband Stan is a retired Methodist minister. I asked he if she had ever heard Garrison Keillor’s Public Radio piece on Methodist’s. She said no she hadn’t so I located it on the internet and read it to all in attendance.

I feel it is a classic and would like to share it with you now.

We make fun of Methodists for their blandness, their excessive calm, their fear of giving offense, their lack of speed, and also for their secret fondness for macaroni and cheese.

But nobody sings like them. If you were to ask an audience in New York City, a relatively Methodist-less place, to sing along on the chorus of “Michael Row the Boat Ashore,” they will look daggers at you as if you had asked them to strip to their underwear. But if you do this among Methodists, they’d smile and row that boat ashore and up on the beach! And down the road!

Many Methodists are bred from childhood to sing in four-part harmony, a talent that comes from sitting on the lap of someone singing alto or tenor or bass and hearing the harmonic intervals by putting your little head against that person’s rib cage.

It’s natural for Methodists to sing in harmony. We are too modest to be soloists, too worldly to sing in unison. When you’re singing in the key of C and you slide into the A7th and D7th chords, all two hundred of you, it’s an emotionally fulfilling moment. By our joining in harmony, we somehow promise that we will not forsake each other.

I do believe this: People, these Methodists, who love to sing in four-part harmony are the sort of people you can call up when you’re in deep distress.

*If you’re dying, they will comfort you.

*If you are lonely, they’ll talk to you.

*And if you are hungry, they’ll give you tuna salad.

*Methodists believe in prayer, but would practically die if asked to pray out loud.

*Methodists like to sing, except when confronted with a new hymn or a hymn with more than four stanzas.

*Methodists believe their pastors will visit them in the hospital, even if they don’t notify them that they are there.

*Methodists usually follow the official liturgy and will feel it is their away of suffering for their sins.

*Methodists believe in miracles and even expect miracles, especially during their stewardship visitation programs or when passing the plate.

*Methodists think that the Bible forbids them from crossing the aisle while passing the peace.

*Methodists drink coffee as if it were the Third Sacrament.

*Methodists feel guilty for not staying to clean up after their own wedding reception in the Fellowship Hall.

*Methodists are willing to pay up to one dollar for a meal at the church.

*Methodists still serve Jell-O in the proper liturgical color of the season and think that peas in a tuna casserole adds too much color.

*Methodists believe that it is OK to poke fun at themselves and never take themselves too seriously.

And finally,

+ You know you are a Methodist when: it’s 100 degrees, with 90% humidity, and you still have coffee after the service.

+ You hear something funny during the sermon and smile as loudly as you can.

+ Donuts are a line item in the church budget, just like coffee.

+ When you watch a Star Wars movie and they say, “May the Force be with you,” and you respond, “and also with you.”

+ And lastly, it takes ten minutes to say good-bye!

Lake Wobegon is a fictional town in the U.S. state of Minnesota, said to have been the boyhood home of Garrison Keillor, who reports the News from Lake Wobegon on the radio show A Prairie Home Companion. Its location is believed to be north of St. Cloud and is claimed to be the town of Holdingford.

Thanks for stopping by.

Community Health Needs Assesment

April 27, 2016 7:27 pm / Leave a comment

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nurse thumbs up

As a lot of you know, our daughter Kathryn Fiddler has recently returned to the Eastern Shore from Baltimore to Peninsula Regional Medical Center here in Salisbury, MD. Kathryn is the Executive Director of Population Health and a 2015 graduate of Salisbury State University’s Doctor of Nursing Practice program.

Along with Chris Hall, Vice President Strategy and Business Development/Chief Business Officer at Peninsula Regional Medical Center and Henry Nyce, Manager of Planning and Business your assistance is needed to complete their Community Health Needs Assessment, especially if you are from Somerset, Wicomico or Worcester counties. Should you be from somewhere else fill in the designated space.

This assessment is ten (10) questions long, no great burden here. Please take a minute or two to help identify the needs and expectations in this important assessment.

Thank you, The Rooster

From Roger A. Follebout, Jr.
Community Relations Director
Peninsula Regional Medical Center

Good Morning All – HUGE favor here!

Regularly, Peninsula Regional Medical Center engages our community in a Community Health Needs Assessment. Peninsula Regional’s commitment to community health is an essential part of our mission. We have a proud 119 year history of investing in community health programs and partnering with other organizations to identify and address the most urgent health needs in the communities we serve.

We strive to ensure patients have exceptional and equal access to high-quality care while addressing identified child, teen and family health needs in the community. Through a community health assessment, we are gaining a better view of the health needs and strengths on the Delmarva Peninsula. In partnership with families, public health, healthcare providers and community-based organizations, we are using what we learn to collaboratively address the most urgent needs. We’re seeking community input on perceived barriers to health, what people believe are the most important health issues, where care is most needed, and more.

Peninsula Regional has created a very short Survey Monkey survey to gain community input on what we can do to improve access to healthcare and provide our friends and neighbors the best possible healthcare experience.

I would appreciate it if you could share the link, below, with your readers, viewers, listeners, social media friends and chamber members, and ask them to please help us in our mission to Improve the Health of the Communities We Serve.

We also invite each of you to participate, as well. The more people we can engage, the better the results. We will share those in the not too distant future once the survey concludes.

Thanks a bunch!

https://www.surveymonkey.com/r/PeninsulaCommunity

Roger A. Follebout, Jr.
Community Relations Director
Peninsula Regional Medical Center
410-543-7142 (office)/410-543-7144 (fax)/443-783-6410 (cell)
Salisbury, Maryland 21801
2015 PRMC Hospital Email Signature Line

As The Rooster Crows

Author Archives: elfidd / The Rooster

Potential Storm Brewing

As we end the month of May, 2016

The Davies

Honoring the Fallen

Red Poppys commemorated the Day

I Know I’m Irish and a Writer

Thanks once again for stopping by. The temperature, just to let you know is 58 degrees F., or should it be F’n degrees?

Get Milk

Growing up Methodist

Community Health Needs Assesment

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