Who will stop the bullies?


English: Steyr M9 semi-automatic pistol.

English: Steyr M9 semi-automatic pistol. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: Bullying on IRFE in March 5, 2007, th...

English: Bullying on IRFE in March 5, 2007, the first class day. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A brave teacher, Michael Landsberry, tried to prevent the deaths of students in his classroom in Nevada when a 12 year-old boy shot and killed him and wounded two students. The seventh-grade shooter used his parent‘s 9mm semi-automatic handgun. Classmates said the shooter had been bullied by some at the school.

When I taught fifth-grade students, there was always a boy the others seem to pick on. Every time I caught anyone bullying another student, I would lecture them before dishing out the punishment. The conversation went like this:

Me: “Why are you picking on this student?

Bully: “I don’t know. Because I can, I guess.

Me: “Are you ready to die?”

Bully: “No.”

Me: “No ma’am. Haven’t you heard about the children who get bullied until they can’t take it anymore and come to school with a gun, bent upon wiping out the school bullies?”

Bully: “yeah.”

Me: “Yes ma’am. And you are confidant that you can bully this boy and never have to pay for doing it?”

Bully: silence

This is when I would explain to the entire class that bullies were children who were bullied at home. They come to school to take out there anger against anyone they feel is weak. It is a vicious cycle that has to stop. No one likes to be bullied and no one likes the bully.

I believe that someone has to be bold enough to demand that parents who create bullies must be punished when their child bullies another. As long as the people who create bullies go unpunished, the cycle will never end.

Murderers, serial killers, mass killers and bullies are created by bad parenting, neglectful parenting or abusive parenting. Until we punish the parents, some of the guilty go unpunished. Harsh? Yes. Life is harsh. You don’t have to be wealthy to be a good parent, you just have to love the child more than you love yourself.

Too many families include parents who are so selfish, they spend every dime and every spare minute on themselves. They teach their children to hate, encourage them to act hatefully and blame the victim when caught.

And why on earth would a parent have such a handgun lying around the house and not locked up the way it should be? The parents should be looked at for neglecting their son. Obviously, he had no support on the home front. Sadness abounds.

Where the Wild Things Grow


English: Wildflowers, Walberswick. Between the...

English: Wildflowers, Walberswick. Between the village of Walberswick and the sea, wild flowers grow abundantly. Ox-eye daisies are the most numerous of those shown here. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Blue Wild Petunia (Ruellia caroliniensis) flow...

Blue Wild Petunia (Ruellia caroliniensis) flower in Florida. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

honeysuckle

honeysuckle (Photo credit: Lucyme)

Honeysuckle Too

Honeysuckle Too (Photo credit: garryknight)

English: Close up of honeysuckle.

English: Close up of honeysuckle. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: Honeysuckle growing wild in the hedgerow.

English: Honeysuckle growing wild in the hedgerow. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The sun beats down, a cool breeze blows and I spot a splash of color along the fence row. Walking closer to uncover the mystery, my eyes focus on a wild flower I’ve never seen before. The flower is very small and stands alone, with no other flowers in her family to keep her company. How does one lone flower exist beneath the twisted and entwined vines of honeysuckle, blackberry and wild rose? Did a bird fly over and deposit that one seed? What made it fight its way to the sunlight, here, where the wild things grow?

No one planted the honeysuckle or the blackberry. The wild rose has existed so long that no one can remember a time when they didn’t grow along the fence, blooming in early spring to scent the country air. Nobody tends or cares for the wild things, yet they flourish. Any country girl can tell you how the wild honeysuckle sweetens the night air on a summer’s early night and how the wild rose delivers a delight to the nose on a summer’s early morning.

No one can explain how the wild things came to be outside of a loving God. Imagine God planning every detail of man’s existence on this earth. He didn’t have to give us all the extras that bring us such joy. We would never have known anything was missing if God had left the wild things out of our world. But love, in great degree, compelled God to share with us all things He had ever imagined – all the things that made Him smile. “I wonder how many will notice the wild things. How many will appreciate the fragrance of the wild rose? Will they find joy in the honeysuckle, a plant they don’t have to toil over?”

How often do you go where the wild things grow?

Bitter Blackberry Juice: Do You Know What it Stops?


English: Bee pollinating Blackberry in an Engl...

English: Bee pollinating Blackberry in an English garden (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Black Butte is a new blackberry release by ARS...

Black Butte is a new blackberry release by ARS scientists in Corvallis, Oregon. Fruit averages one inch in diameter, and two inches long. It weighs almost twice as much as other varieties of fresh blackberries. Photo by Scott Bauer. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Two berries of the Rubus genus. The red one to...

Two berries of the Rubus genus. The red one to the left is Rubus idaeus, which is commonly known as raspberry. Its length is approximately 26 mm (only the fruit part) and it measures about 18 mm at its widest diameter. The black berry to the right is Rubus fruticosus – the common blackberry – with a length of 33 mm and a maximum diameter of 17 mm. Both berries are food used by Homo sapiens sapiens and are therefore cultivated. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Back before there was Medicaid, Medicare, health insurance, emergency rooms on every corner and Dial a Doctor, there was natural medicine. And God saw that it was good. He should. After all, He invented it. Over time, we left the natural for the synthetic. Why? Heck if I know. It was working just fine. Wait! I think I remember now. Natural was free and available to everyone. No one could charge for natural medicine.

Man corrupts everything he puts his hands on. What a shame that natural medicine was working just fine until man saw there was profit in charging the sick and dying. Well, this medical advice is free:

  • To cure a case of diarrhea, no matter what caused it, take three heaping tablespoons of unsweetened blackberry juice.
  1. Pick blackberries wherever you find them; in your back yard, in your neighbor’s backyard ( he won’t care, he doesn’t pick them anyway), along a fence row or buy them at a farmer’s market.
  2. Wash the berries in one part vinegar and three parts water.
  3. Put two cups of berries and one-half cup of water in a sauce pot.
  4. Heat the berries on medium heat until softened.
  5. Use a potato masher to crush the berries.
  6. Strain the juice from the berries.
  7. Cool the juice in the refrigerator.
  8. Take two to three tablespoons of the juice until diarrhea stops. This will usually cure the diarrhea within six to 12 hours.

No, it isn’t instant, but it is free and has no side-effects. If you can’t find free berries, buy a few from the grocery store or market. Use a real measuring spoon, not a big spoon from the kitchen drawer. Berries are natural antioxidants, fighting free radicals in the body that cause disease and dying.

The great thing is that this cure works for everyone, even infants. They won’t like you for several days, but it is safe to use. No need to buy Imodium or Pepto Bismal for $8 to $10 a bottle. Just remember to pick those berries every summer and freeze them until needed or until someone feels like making a berry tart for dessert one evening.

Shhh, don’t tell everyone. There will be a shortage of berries in no time. On second thought, go ahead. Too many people are too lazy to pick them anyway. Just don’t tell them where you keep your stash.

Go ahead. Eat that spicy Mexican and Cajun food. You know what to do when you know what happens.

 

 

My Summer Colors


The Secret Garden

The Secret Garden (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

Summer is the time to stay outdoors until the sun goes down or until 9:30 p.m. or whichever comes first. This makes for very long days and short nights. Since I love being outdoors -gardening, looking at the flowers, watching the wildlife and the insects and drinking the evening scents wafting on the breeze – this is fine with me. I am not good at photography, but I try to capture the essence of what makes up my world. These are some of the summer projects at my house.

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Hydrangea flower

Hydrangea flower

Lettuce from my garden.

Lettuce from my garden.

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A Drunk Driver’s Legacy: Part Two


Lateral view of the right hip bone. Acetabular...

Lateral view of the right hip bone. Acetabular fossa is at centre, inside the lunate surface. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

State fruit - Tomato

State fruit – Tomato (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dolly Parton at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville.

Dolly Parton at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

When I awoke in the hospital, my mother was standing over me. I remembered hearing her voice while I was unconscious. She and the doctor were talking about my probably brain damage. I thought I had been dreaming. Since I could not remember the accident, I had to be told what happened. My first question upon learning there had been a car accident was, “Oh, my God, did I hurt anybody?”

I was told that a man who had just been released from a mental institute, without driver’s license, stole his mother’s car and went to a bar to get drunk. He caused the accident and the only injury to him was a broken nose. He spent one night in jail. He was told that, if I should lose my unborn child, he would be charged with manslaughter. His mother and sister prayed outside my door day and night that I would not lose my baby. Not because they had compassion for me, but rather, they did not want Larry to go to prison.

I was not allowed visitors in ICU except for immediate family. My pelvis had been crushed. I could not be put in a cast because I was pregnant. My left hip had been broken by the door handle that was twisted, leaving a sharp, hard metal spike to break my hip bone.

My left ankle had been crushed. Surgery was performed to remove the shards of bone and what remained was glued and screwed together in an attempt to keep the foot attached to my leg. It was cosmetic, not meant for walking on. I wore the cast on my ankle, up to my knee for the rest of my pregnancy. I knew that six months was too long to wear a cast, but my doctor told me it was because I was pregnant and it was taking longer. They did not want to tell me that I would never walk on that leg again.

My right arm was broken. Because I could not sit up, surgery was performed to place a sleeve over the broken bones and my arm was in a sling. Both arms were at 90 degree angles for several months. The left arm had nerve damage. I had to have physical therapy every day to eventually straighten both arms. I can still remember how painful it was. I cried and begged them to stop pulling on my arms. The PT specialists would ask, “Don’t you want to hold your baby one day?” I would try harder.

I had hairline fractures all over my body, a severe concussion, lacerations on my left arm and face. The stitches were removed too soon from my right arm, leaving a seven-inch scar that was an inch wide in some places. My left ear had to be sown back in place.

When I first conceived my daughter, my body tried to reject her. This is known as morning sickness. For a very small number of women, the body reacts violently to expel the foreign invader. I could not keep water down, much less any food. Nothing helped ease the nausea. By the time I was three months pregnant, I had lost ten pounds. I weighed 110 pounds at the time of the accident. I was on drip and still could not keep food down. The doctors were desperate.

They would come into my room with cheeseburgers bought from fast food restaurants to tempt me to eat. I would try, but it always came back up. One day, a doctor asked me if I was craving anything. I said I would like a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich. It had to be a fresh, vine-ripened tomato. It was around the first of May and tomatoes would not be ready in South Mississippi for another four to six weeks. A nurse offered, “There is a vine-ripened tomato somewhere in the US. We will find it.”

The call went out for a ripe tomato. It wasn’t long before a trucker heard about me and brought a bushel of vine-ripened tomatoes to the hospital. The cafeteria sliced the tomato and sent the mayo and fresh bread to my room, where the doctor prepared the sandwich and cut it into four equal pieces. I ate the first quarter of the sandwich with three doctors and four nurses cheering me on. It was the first thing I had eaten in almost four months. I was down to 99 pounds.

I had been given a shot for nausea before I attempted to eat the sandwich. I managed to eat half of it without throwing it back up. There were cheers of success heard throughout the hospital. I was able to keep one sandwich in my stomach each day. If I pushed the issue by adding sandwich meat or tried to eat more than one, up it all would come.

I was weak, I was in pain and my legs were wasting away. I did not consider at the time that I was losing muscle from both legs. I had always been a skinny kid. I had Dolly Parton breasts (mine were natural) and Olive Oil legs. I was not told that I would never get back the muscle that I had lost. So much had been kept from me. The doctors had been afraid that the truth would be too much for me to handle.

I was bed-ridden for months, my baby grew restless, kicking me without mercy because she had to lie in one position day after day. I was taken to the doctor’s office, after I had been released from the hospital, by my Mother-in-Law for checkups. Each visit, I was promised the cast would come off my leg. They would take x-rays and give me the bad news. “It isn’t healing correctly because the baby is using all the calcium in your body. Give it some more time.” I cried every time. How was I going to take care of my baby if I was stuck in a wheelchair.

I promise, if you come back for part three, you will witness a miracle.

 

 

Another Award: Very Sweet Blogger Award


English: deflour rhum chocolate cake and vanil...

English: deflour rhum chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

German chocolate cake from a bakery

German chocolate cake from a bakery (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: Choc Rose Cake

English: Choc Rose Cake (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I have received an award from My Daily Minefield Blog. If you haven’t checked out this blog yet, you have no idea what you are missing. There are so many interesting articles about the great planet we live on. I am inspired every time I stop by. This blog will not disappoint visitors.

I try to be sweet, and kind, and kind of off the wall now and then. I don’t want to give anyone tooth decay by being too sweet, so I speak my mind now and then whenever something bothers me or when I see stupidity or injustice in the world. Other than that, I am usually meek and mild.

Here are the rules:

You must thank the person who gave you the award. Please mention them on your blog and provide a link so others can find out how awesome they are. You must answer a few sweet questions, then send the award on to other sweet, deserving bloggers.

My Questions and Answers:

Super Sweet Questions to Answer:

1.  Cookies or Cake?   Both. Who can choose just one?

2.  Chocolate or Vanilla?   If I am forced at gunpoint, chocolate. I love that warm, smooth, velvety stuff melting inside my mouth.

3.  What is your favorite sweet treat?  Chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream

4.  When do you crave sweet things most?  At night, when I write. (This was Daily Minefield’s answer, but it holds true for me also.)

5.  If you had a sweet nickname, what would it be?  Sweetness. For real, a special person calls me that. I swear.

Other sweet bloggers I know:

One Point Safety

Arlen Shah

Ardent P.T.

Chris Martin

Short Little Rebel

Naomikko

85 Degrees

The Critical Eye

Versatile Blogger Award


The Versatile Blogger Award

The Versatile Blogger Award (Photo credit: nhighberg)

Chocolates

Chocolates (Photo credit: J. Paxon Reyes)

The versatile Blogger Award

A blogger of great importance has honored me by nominating me for the Versatile Blogger Award. Dear Kitty. Some Blog is a place you would want to check out. You will learn about things that don’t ordinarily make the news because they are too controversial. All governments have issues they would rather sweep under the rug. Petrel will also show you new discoveries, art and ancient finds.

These are the rules:

If you are nominated, thank the person who nominated you and link to their blog. Tell seven things about yourself and nominate bloggers whom you fell are versatile in their blogging.

Seven things.

1. I love chocolate. I know, everyone loves chocolate, but I only eat chocolate that is beginning to melt. I like soft, warm chocolate in my mouth.

2. I really, really love to eat fresh veggies from the garden. I grow tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, turnips, cabbage, peas, beans, squash, broccoli, lettuce, cucumbers, herbs and so much more.

3. I actually have fun scooping up worm casting to fertilize my gardens.

4. My favorite colors are red, pink, purple and violet blue.

5. A bear visits my home two or three times a year. He just comes through to eat grubs and wild honey, then he is on his way again.

6. I find it awesome when someone gives me an award. It means they had to specifically think of me at that moment.

7. I know how to sew, crochet, embroider, and make dolls. I am learning how to knit.

My nominees are:

1. On The Edge Again

2. VERDE DESPERTAR

3. Writing is the Supreme Solace

4. Archana

5. Torey Richards

6. My Food And Flowers

7. Photography Art Plus

8. Short Little Rebel

9. Ardentpt

10. Nafees Ahmed