Saturday, May 21, 2016

I'LL WAIT by Lucia





I'LL  WAIT

by  Lucia
 
This heartache I just can't explain,
All I ever feel is pain,
That passion I long for true love for real,
His gentle caressing what I long to feel,
A love that when we are together
we'd rather die than be apart,
A love that when our lips meet
I can feel the kiss from his heart.
I'll wait forever to have this special love,
I'll even wait for all eternity in the heavens above,
All this waiting for him may cause me pain and strife,
But I'll wait, because this love comes once in a life.














A PROMISE - by Mannie






A   PROMISE
by  Mannie

Baby, we may not be
the best of what we are,
we may not talk often.
I just want you to know

that no matter
how difficult things can be...
In the long run
You will still have me..








COMING AND GOING - by Tony Hoagland



  

COMING  AND  GOING


Tony Hoagland, 1953


My marriage ended in an airport long ago.

I was not wise enough to cry while looking for my car,




walking through the underground garage;

jets were roaring overhead, and if I had been wise



I would have looked up at those heavy-bellied cylinders

and seen the wheelchairs and the frightened dogs inside; 




the kidneys bedded in dry ice and Styrofoam containers.

I would have known that in synagogues and churches all over town



couples were gathering like flocks of geese

getting ready to take off,  while here the jets were putting down



their gear, getting ready for the jolt, the giant tires

shrieking and scraping off two




long streaks of rubber molecules,

that might have been my wife and I, screaming in our fear.



It is a matter of amusement to me now,   

me staggering around that underground garage, 




trying to remember the color of my vehicle,

unable to recall that I had come by cab



eventually gathering myself and going back inside,

quite matter-of-fact,




to get the luggage

I would be carrying for the rest of my life.










SEXUAL ADDICTIONS ARE DESTROYING OUR FAMILIES - by Jim Pemberton








SEXUAL  ADDICTIONS  ARE  DESTROYING  OUR  FAMILIES


Sexual Addictions Are Destroying Our Families!
Many families are being destroyed by sexual addictions!
As they bring into their homes unneeded afflictions!

There are affairs of adultery of all different kinds…
As many allow sin’s pollution to destroy their mind!

Many have no comprehension or fail to see…
The filth of garbage being promoted on t.v.!


Rather than seeking God for his blood’s protection.
Husbands and wives look to others for affection.

God looks and sees the wounded and broken heart.
And before you know it, another family falls apart!

Too much of this is happening in churches today.
Will these families just come together and pray?

It’s time to come together as a family and be strong!
Let’s get rid of the things in our life that don’t belong!


Let’s seek the purity and holiness of God above.
And be strengthened by his majestic love!

Let’s seek God’s protection over our families too!
And speak kind words to another, like; “I LOVE YOU!”

May the love of Christ come and bind us as ONE!
And touch every father, mother, daughter and son!

Lord Jesus, we all need you so much!  This very hour!

We can’t make it alone!  Without your power!

Please Jesus, restore what the enemy has taken!
I’ve never seen your children left or forsaken!

You are the only one that our family has needed!
Only by your love, will our family be completed!



Copyright © Jim Pemberton


Friday, May 20, 2016

THEORETICAL MORALS - a Speech by MARK TWAIN







Mark Twain
Mark  Twain  1835  -  1910




          The New Vagabonds Club of London, made up of the leading
          younger literary men of the day, gave a dinner in honor of Mr.
          and Mrs. Clemens, July 8, 1899.






It has always been difficult - leave that word difficult - not exceedingly difficult, but just difficult, nothing more than that, not the slightest shade to add to that - just difficult - to respond properly, in the right phraseology, when compliments are paid to me; but it is more than difficult when the compliments are paid to a better than I - my wife.

And while I am not here to testify against myself - I can't be expected to do so, a prisoner in your own country is not admitted to do so - as to which member of the family wrote my books, I could say in general that really I wrote the books myself. My wife puts the facts in, and they make it respectable. My modesty won't suffer while compliments are being paid to literature, and through literature to my family. I can't get enough of them.

I am curiously situated tonight. It so rarely happens that I am introduced by a humorist; I am generally introduced by a person of grave walk and carriage. That makes the proper background of gravity for brightness. I am going to alter to suit, and haply I may say some humorous things.


When you start with a blaze of sunshine and up burst of humor, when you begin with that, the proper office of humor is to reflect, to put you into that pensive mood of deep thought, to make you think of your sins, if you wish half an hour to fly. Humor makes me reflect now to-night, it sets the thinking machinery in motion. Always, when I am thinking, there come suggestions of what I am, and what we all are, and what we are coming to. A sermon comes from my lips always when I listen to a humorous speech.

I seize the opportunity to throw away frivolities, to say something to plant the seed, and make all better than when I came. In Mr. Grossmith's remarks there was a subtle something suggesting my favorite theory of the difference between theoretical morals and practical morals. I try to instil practical morals in the place of theatrical - I mean theoretical; but as an addendum - an annex - something added to theoretical morals.

When your chairman said it was the first time he had ever taken the chair, he did not mean that he had not taken lots of other things; he attended my first lecture and took notes. This indicated the man's disposition. There was nothing else flying round, so he took notes; he would have taken anything he could get.


I can bring a moral to bear here which shows the difference between theoretical morals and practical morals. Theoretical morals are the sort you get on your mother's knee, in good books, and from the pulpit. You gather them in your head, and not in your heart; they are theory without practice. Without the assistance of practice to perfect them, it is difficult to teach a child to "be honest, don't steal."

I will teach you how it should be done, lead you into temptation, teach you how to steal, so that you may recognize when you have stolen and feel the proper pangs. It is no good going round and bragging you have never taken the chair.

As by the fires of experience, so by commission of crime, you learn real morals. Commit all the crimes, familiarize yourself with all sins, take them in rotation (there are only two or three thousand of them), stick to it, commit two or three every day, and by-and-by you will be proof against them. When you are through you will be proof against all sins and morally perfect. You will be vaccinated against every possible commission of them. This is the only way.

I will read you a written statement upon the subject that I wrote three years ago to read to the Sabbath-schools. (Here the lecturer turned his pockets out, but without success.)  No ! I have left it at home. Still, it was a mere statement of fact, illustrating the value of practical morals produced by the commission of crime.


It was in my boyhood just a statement of fact, reading is only more formal, merely facts, merely pathetic facts, which I can state so as to be understood. It relates to the first time I ever stole a watermelon; that is, I think it was the first time; anyway, it was right along there somewhere.

I stole it out of a farmer's wagon while he was waiting on another customer. "Stole" is a harsh term. I withdrew - I retired that watermelon. I carried it to a secluded corner of a lumberyard. I broke it open. It was green - the greenest watermelon raised in the valley that year.

The minute I saw it was green I was sorry, and began to reflect - reflection is the beginning of reform. If you don't reflect when you commit a crime then that crime is of no use; it might just as well have been committed by some one else: You must reflect or the value is lost; you are not vaccinated against committing it again.


I began to reflect. I said to myself: "What ought a boy to do who has stolen a green watermelon ? What would George Washington do, the father of his country, the only American who could not tell a lie ? What would he do? There is only one right, high, noble thing for any boy to do who has stolen a watermelon of that class: he must make restitution; he must restore that stolen property to its rightful owner." I said I would do it when I made that good resolution. I felt it to be a noble, uplifting obligation. I rose up spiritually stronger and refreshed. I carried that watermelon back - what was left of it - and restored it to the farmer, and made him give me a ripe one in its place.

Now you see that this constant impact of crime upon crime protects you against further commission of crime. It builds you up. A man can't become morally perfect by stealing one or a thousand green watermelons, but every little helps.

I was at a great school yesterday (St. Paul's), where for four hundred years they have been busy with brains, and building up England by producing Pepys, Miltons, and Marlboroughs. Six hundred boys left to nothing in the world but theoretical morality. I wanted to become the professor of practical morality, but the high master was away, so I suppose I shall have to go on making my living the same old way - by adding practical to theoretical morality.


What are the glory that was Greece, the grandeur that was Rome, compared to the glory and grandeur and majesty of a perfected morality such as you see before you?

The New Vagabonds are old vagabonds (undergoing the old sort of reform). You drank my health; I hope I have not been unuseful. Take this system of morality to your hearts. Take it home to your neighbors and your graves, and I hope that it will be a long time before you arrive there.


http://weneedfun.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Mark-Twain-Quotes-7.jpg


Thursday, May 19, 2016

CHERRY JAM RECIPE




 

   Makes: 1kg

    Prep time:
    20 mins

    Cooking time:
    40 mins

    Total time:
    1 hr



INGREDIENTS

    900g firm black or red cherries, pitted and stones reserved

    150ml water

    Finely grated zest and juice of 2 lemons

    500g jam sugar


METHOD

Place the cherries in a large pan with the water, lemon zest and juice. Crack the reserved cherry stones and tie in a small piece of muslin then add to the pan. Heat gently until almost boiling then simmer for 15-20 mins until the cherries are just soft.
Remove the muslin bag, squeezing any juice back into the pan. Add the jam sugar and stir over a gentle heat until dissolved. Bring to the boil and boil rapidly for about 10 mins.

Remove the pan from the heat and test for setting point by spooning a little of the hot jam onto a chilled saucer. Leave for 2-3 mins then push your finger through the jam - if it wrinkles it is ready. If the jam is still runny, boil for a further few minutes then test again.

Cool for 10 mins then skim any scum from the surface with a slotted spoon. Pour the hot jam into warm clean jars and seal and label.

Note  Store the jars of jam in a cool dark place and once opened, keep in the fridge and use within one month.





Tuesday, May 17, 2016

HOME IS WHERE YOUR HEART LIVES - poem

 


HOME IS WHERE YOUR HEART LIVES

Home is not an ideal place
Home is based on realities
Home is where your love grows
Home is where you scream and fight
Home is where you live in peace


Home is where you feel belong
Home is also a shared space
Home is where we feel safe



Home is where you smell the rain
Home is where the sun shines
Home is where we bear the pain


Home is place for hide and seek
Home is where you fly kites
Home is where you play with dolls
'There is no place like home'