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First posted May 1, 2009

Obama still wants to give illegal immigrants a “pathway” to become legal.  I’m sorry, but that pathway should have started at the border.  Instead, they enter illegally and continue to break the law on a daily basis.  I know that Obama wanted the Hispanic vote and a good way to get it is to tell them that it really doesn’t matter if they do not abide by our country’s laws.  How many of us who are citizens or legal immigrants receive that same message?  We are expected to obey our country’s laws and subsidize the illegals.

I know that many like to use that old “they do the jobs we don’t want to do.”  That isn’t good enough.  Maybe at one time that argument might have had a little more validity.  Right now we are losing jobs right and left while we’re waiting for the “stimulus” to start giving us jobs.  We are sliding so far into a pit of debt, that our children won’t even begin to see it’s ending.  I know many people who are willing to work at any job, any time, any place.

I have to say to the illegals, please go home and re-enter our country legally.  I am not anti-immigration.  I am all for giving legal immigrants the help they need to get settled in and become part of our community.  But please, don’t start breaking our laws before you even get here and expect me to say, “Welcome.  Would you like for us to take a job away from someone and by the way, we’ll even pay for your health care and education, as well as your share of the taxes, ? ”

Sorry for the rant today, but I see too many people struggling right now.  You can read a little more about this subject in the New York Times.

Update This really hasn’t changed all that much four years later except the country is in a bigger financial mess and we are paying more and more for the entitlements given to illegals.

First posted March 19, 2009

I traveled for a long time last night and managed to cover a lot of territory.  Some of it was exciting, some inspiring, some sentimental and some just made me smile.  A lot.  I started with the incredible sounds of Il Divo andAmaging Grace.  I just recently discovered this group when a friend sent me the link.  I still get chills when I hear this.  Of course, while I was there, I had to listen to every Il Divo song on YouTube.

From there I jumped back in time to the Righteous Brothers and Unchained Melody.  I’m not sure now just what connection I was making between the two, but it seemed like a natural transition at the time.  Then I slid on over to the Mamas and the Papas and listened to Mama Cass and Dream a Little Dream of Me.  That bit of dreaming took me over to Audrey Hepburn, Moon River and a lot of dreams of the young girl who wanted to grow up to be Audrey Hepburn or at least Holly Golightly.

Okay, now the mood needed to lighten up a bit so I hit the New England coast and spent time with the Kingston Trio and a fun song called MTA.  Then on to the beach where I wrote Love Letters in the Sand with Pat Boone.  After that I checked out his daughter, Debbie, and dreamed about Consumer Man lighting up my life and sang along with her on Baby, I’m Yours.  You Light Up My Life was her big hit, but I’ll take Baby, I’m Yours any day.  So, while I was checking out famous offspring, I strolled on over to listen to Nancy Sinatra and These Boots Are Made for Walkin.’  That was a theme song of mine for awhile.  And then there was Something Stupid with Nancy and Frank, Jr.  After that I had to let Frank, Sr. Fly Me to the Moon.  And, of course, Frank reminded me of the Rat Pack, so I had Dino remind me that Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime.  Oh, yes.  We all loved Dean Martin and that seductive voice of his.  Now, I couldn’t leave the Rat Pack without a little visit with Sammy Davis, Jr. and two of his signature songs, Mr. Bojangles Man and I’ve Gotta Be Me.  Mr. Bojangles was part of Sammy’s act when he was only a 7 year old.

I traveled through YouTube territory for way too many hours, but couldn’t leave without dropping in on our own poet laureate, Rod McKuen.  The words, the voice.  The poet who can sing.  Songs and memorable poems.  A Cat Named Sloopy, The Tender Earth, A Man Alone.  I could keep traveling all night except someone is playing a lullaby and I’m going to have to go lie down for awhile.

First Posted March 18, 2009

I listened to an NPR program on the way home from work last Saturday night that taught me about an incredible place in New York City.  It’s called the rubber room.  A site about The Big Apple gives us the definition so we’ll know why the “reassignment centers” for NYC teachers are called rubber rooms.  A teacher can be sent there for any reason and might be there days, weeks or months without knowing why.  Some have even spent years in the rubber room.  They are sent there for both real and perceived wrongs against students, other teachers or administrators.  And there they’ll stay, getting paid, but not being allowed to teach.

The Village Voice calls this “the Guantanamo Bay of the school world.”  Initially, it sounds great.  Just sit around and read or do whatever to entertain yourself and get paid.  But being in limbo is not such an easy thing.  Some of them who have spent years there want to form a chapter of the teacher’s union, United Federation of Teachers, for those teachers who are “employed” in the rubber rooms.  You can read some of their stories here at The New York Times and a teacher story.

Update

These rooms closed at the end of the 2001-2010 school year. You can read that story here.

But did they? One teacher was still making over $100,000 yearly as a rubber room “leftover” in 2012. You can read more about him here.  Would you want to retire if you were paid salary and benefits like Alan Rosenfeld?

Ray of Light

By Shelley Shepard Gray

Bestselling author Shelley Shepard Gray brings inspirational romance to life in this sweet tale of love in the Amish community, Ray of Light, the second installment of her Days of Redemption series.

Roman Keim just wants a break from the family drama at his snowy Ohio home when he heads to an Amish snowbird community in Florida. There he meets Amanda Yoder and her daughter Regina who soon are warming his heart. But will Roman return to Ohio or will he stay and help the young widow embrace a second chance at love?

The author of the series Sisters of the Heart and Seasons of Sugarcreek, Shelley Shepard Gray delivers an honest, tender love story in Ray of Light, featuring the challenges of faith, family, and romance.

ISLAND BREEZES

Yes, you’re going to need that box of tissues while reading this book. Roman and Amanda are on the brink of love, but the circumstances can seem almost insurmountable.

Their’s was a long distance relationship after a brief acquaintance the week they met in Pinecraft, Florida. Then the church got in the way. Roman’s family was full of secrets and problems that he had come to terms with, but now?

This story is about more than Roman and Amanda. It’s a story about Roman’s entire family. It was easy for me to get caught up with this family. I’m going to have to read Daybreak, the first book in this series. And I’m really looking forward to book three. There’s a little teaser at the end of this book that will give you a little idea of what may be in store for us and the Keim family when we read Eventide.

***A special thank you to litfuse for providing a copy for review.***

Shelley Shepard Gray is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the “Sisters of the Heart”, “Seasons of Sugarcreek”, “Secrets of Crittenden County”, and Families of Honor series. She lives in southern Ohio, where she writes full-time, bakes too much, and can often be found walking her dachshunds on her town’s bike trail.

First posted March 10, 2009

Sounds interesting, doesn’t it?  How on earth can you give a fish a pedicure?  Since you have to have toes in order to have a pedicure, that means no pedicures for anything living in your aquarium.  Now if the owner of the fish (or any other pet) wants a fish pedicure, it can happen.

But not down here in Florida.  It’s against the law.  They’re worried about sanitation and any kind of animal (except a service animal) is banned in salons.  This procedure apparently originated in Japan and involves putting your feet in a vat of water and allowing a bunch of little fish to nibble away at dead skin.  Now doesn’t that sound as if they’re performing a service?  I guess it’s just not the right kind of service.

When I was a teen, my family lived near a strip pit.  For you city folks, that’s the hole that’s left in the ground when the miners get done stripping it of all the coal.  It just sits there, fills up with water and becomes a small lake or maybe a really big pond.  These can be very deep and thus the threat warning from my parents that we were to never go swimming in the strip pit.  Obedient child that I was, I waited until some friends were visiting before climbing the fence and going swimming.  It was both fun and exciting.  After all, we were doing the forbidden, plus we got our toes nibbled by the little fish who joined us for a swim.  At least, we thought they were little fish.  I think that’s as close as I’ll ever want to get to a fish pedicure.

Celebrate the release of Catch a Falling Star (Howard Books) with Beth K. Vogt by entering to win a Romantic Weekend Getaway and RSVPing for her June 4th Author Chat Party.

One “lucky” winner will receive:

• A $200 Visa Cash Card (Perfect for a weekend stay at a hotel or B&B!)
• Catch a Falling Star and Wish You Were Here by Beth Vogt (Swoon-worthy!)
  

Enter today by clicking one of the icons below. But hurry, the giveaway ends on June 3rd. Winner will be announced at the “Catch a Falling Star” Facebook Author Chat Party on June 4th. Connect with Beth for an evening of book chat, trivia, laughter, and more! Beth will also share an exclusive look at her next book and give away books and other fun prizes throughout the evening.

Don’t miss a moment of the fun; RSVP today. Tell your friends via FACEBOOK or TWITTER and increase your chances of winning. Hope to see you on the 4th!

Catch a Falling Star

By Beth K. Vogt

What does a girl do when life doesn’t go according to her plan?

At 36, Kendall Haynes has seen some of her dreams come true. She’s a family physician helping kids with severe allergies and asthma achieve more fulfilling lives-a childhood struggle she knows all too well. But the feeling of being “the kid never picked” looms large when romance continues to evade her and yet another one of her closest friends gets engaged. Are Kendall’s dreams of having it all-a career, a husband, children-nothing more than childish wishing upon a star? Should she hold out for her elusive Plan A? Dust off Plan B? Or is it time to settle? God says he knows the plans he has for her-why can’t Kendall figure them out and be content with her life?

Griffin Walker prefers flying solo-both as an Air Force pilot and in his personal life. But a wrong choice and health problems pulled him out of the cockpit. His attempts to get out of “flying a desk” are complicated by his parents’ death-making Griffin the reluctant guardian of his sixteen-year-old brother, Ian. How did his life get so off course? Can God get his life back on track … or has there been a divine plan all along?
Catch a Falling Star reminds readers that romance isn’t just for twenty-somethings and that sometimes letting go of your “wish I may, wish I might” dreams is the only way to embrace everything God has waiting for you.

ISLAND BREEZES

Two people who want it all. Two people who even thought they had it all or at least most of it. The meet and can’t stand each other.

They finally figure out that they probably will never have it all, but have difficulty accepting that. The only thing they see to have in common is Griffin’s brother Ian. That certainly won’t move them into a love interest. They would like to be friends, but ithat isn’t easy. They aren’t even sure they like each other enough for that.

This book will tear at your heart strings. You’d better have that box of tissues handy as you near the end of this book. I had to use quite a few. I’m looking forward to more books by Ms. Vogt.

***A special thank you to litfuse for providing a review copy.***

  Beth K. Vogt is a non-fiction author and editor who said she’d never write fiction. She’s the wife of an Air Force family physician (now in solo practice), though she said she’d never marry a doctor-or anyone in the military. She’s a mom of four, though she said she’d never have kids. She’s discovered that God’s best often waits behind the doors marked “Never.”

Her contemporary romance novel, “Wish You Were Here”, debuted in May 2012 (Howard Books), and “Catch a Falling Star” releases May 2013. An established magazine writer and former editor of Connections, the leadership magazine for MOPS International, Beth is also the Skills Coach for My Book Therapy, the writing community founded by best-selling author Susan May Warren.

First posted February 28, 2009

My apron strings that is.  I’ve decided that I need some.  My mother many times told me, “I can dress you up, but I can’t take you out.”  What does this mean, you ask?  It means that she would get me dressed up to go out and by the time she was ready those pretty dresses and pinafores were a mess.  Never mind that she was already dressed, made up and ready to go before she got me dressed.  It only took a moment or two.  Just long enough for her to go get her purse.  Why did she go through all that grief?  Why not just dress me in something dark that wouldn’t show the dirt and smudges so much?

How many of you have children?  I was a first child.  Now think about that.  Remember how the first one had to always be dressed just so?  Nothing dirty or stained when you were going out and planning on showing off that little darling of yours.  Nothing changes.  Really.  My mother wanted me to look all cute and pretty.  I wanted my first one to look adorable.  The children who follow don’t have the same pressure to look adorable and to be perfect.  They don’t have a picture taken of them every time they get their clothes changed either.  My second child spent half her childhood thinking she was adopted or something because their were tons of pictures of her brother and she was lucky to find a handful of herself.  I can see you out there chuckling and nodding your heads.  You know about the baby books, too, but we’re beginning to get a bit sidetracked here.

That thing about keeping my clothes clean.  My mother never won that battle.  I’m still fighting it.  Especially when I cook.  I work so hard at it.  I sometimes even make it to the table before splashing, splattering or spilling something down the front of me.  Like I said, I really need some aprons.  I’ve worn all kinds of aprons in my life.  Back in small town mid-America that’s what you did.  You wore aprons.  If you had a dinner party or just another couple over for dinner, you took off your kitchen apron and put on a dainty or frilly little thing.  In the kitchen you had a bigger, more serviceable apron.  You had a wardrobe of aprons.  We didn’t toss in a load of laundry every day.  We did that one day a week.  You have to have figured out by now that I needed lots of aprons.

Plain aprons.  Fancy aprons.  Aprons with ties.  Aprons with those plastic circles that you stuffed them on and clipped them around your waist.  Half aprons.  Full aprons.  Plain ties around your waist.  Ties that you crossed in back and ran through fabric loops before tying.  Ties that you crossed in back and buttoned at the waist.  Ties that tied around the neck.

And all the apron patterns.  After awhile, aprons started going out of style and then you couldn’t find a pattern unless it was used.  No, you couldn’t find one on the Internet.  We are still wandering around in the dark ages before the web was something other than what you swept down if you saw one in your house.  So now pattern companies are giving us apron patterns again.  And now you can find patterns on the Internet.  And I’m sure you can figure it out on your own.  I’m going to make a couple aprons.  I don’t want to keep hearing my mother say how she could dress me up, but couldn’t take me out.  I’m a big girl now.  I don’t want smudged and splattered clothes.  I’m going to make an apron with a bib.  A big bib.  How difficult can that be.  A big rectangle gathered onto a waistband.  A couple ties at the waist.  The bib sewn to the front of the apron with a couple ties to go around my neck.

Do you wear aprons?  Do you need aprons?  Do you make your own aprons?  Do you have a favorite pattern?

For as in one body we have many members, and not all the members have the same function,

so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another.

We have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us; prophecy, in proportion to faith;

ministry, in ministering; the teacher, in teaching; the exhorter, in exhortation; the give, in generosity; the leader, in diligence; the compassionate in cheerfulness.

Romans 12:4-8

First posted October 30, 2008

I remember the Beat Generation.  I wanted to be part of it.  I wanted to be beat.  Ouch!  Not like that.  Like the cool kind of beat.  I was only in junior high, but I worked hard at it, wishing I were older so I could be a real beatnik.  Looking back, I can see that I didn’t really know much about the philosophy behind it.  I just knew it was coffee house cool.  My mother let me pretend to be a beatnik.  My matteress was on the floor.  My room was filled with candles, jazz and books of poetry.  I discovered Jack Kerouac’s On the Road.  My friend, Linda, and I would sit in my candle lit room, smoke the forbidden cigarettes and read poetry for hours.  Always taking turns reading out loud and pretending we were in a coffee house.  We discovered a poem called “Onward Christian Roaches.”  We didn’t understand it at all, but latched onto it all the same.  All we had to do was pass each other in the hall at school, say the phrase and crack up.  Another part of being beat was the clothing.  Black pants, black top and black flats.  Black.  Everything was always black.  This was before the great Audrey Hepburn and her signature look.  It was during this time that I discovered bagels.  Not something readily available in small town mid-America.  No one had heard of bagels and there was certainly no place to go buy them.  I learned how to make them.  It was something different.

I always had this thing about being different.  I worked at it.  I don’t have to try anymore.  I still manage to be different, but it’s a good difference. Some call it eccentric.  Some call it hip.  Some just call it being a little different, not run of the mill.  Call it whatever you wish.  I still enjoy that little bit of different. Today all the young people seem to want to be alike.  Even when they strive so hard to be different, they manage to look like scads of others.  Be it goth, pants falling down, whatever.  They still manage to look the same.  How sad to be just like everyone else.  Travel a different road.  It’s taken me on many enjoyable adventures.