"And the angel said to them, 'Be not afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of a great joy which will come to all the people; for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.'"  -  Luke 1:10-11

Christmas blessings from our family to yours.

Back row from left:  David, Catherine holding Roxey who was not paying attention, Richard, Barb, Tammy, Ken, Sam, Natalie, Stephen

Front row from left:  Barb's mother Doris, Larissa, Glendy, Lois

At the risk of offending our other grandchildren, for whom I did not devote an entry on their birthdays, I must tell you - this is Natalie's 21st birthday.  I often say she was the best Christmas present we ever received.  Every year I say - this will be the year we get a present that surpasses Natalie, but it never happens and it never will.

This is the first picture we got of her - one day old.

This is how she looks today.

And to our other grandchildren - we love you too, but it was just your misfortune not to have been born on Christmas Eve.

OH.  WE'RE ALL STILL HERE.

That was one sorry apocalypse.  And - family and friends - ignore all those e-mails I sent the other day.

Maybe this is what we should have been heeding all along -

THIS IS GOODBYE, EVERYONE

It's been nice knowing you

Since the world ends tomorrow (I have it on good authority), today I will be sending all my family and friends e-mails telling them EXACTLY that I REALLY think of them.  There will be no repercussions because there is no day after tomorrow.

Or, I could believe an Oreo cookie.

SUCH IS LIFE FOR THE RETIRED

It turns out three hours is a lot of time to kill at a mall if you don't have anything special in mind to buy.  We took one of our cars into the shop this morning for what was estimated to be three hours' work.  The shop is 40 minutes from our house, so we drove both cars down and then drove the other car to a mall. I thought we could easily spend three hours there, not remembering that Sam is not a shopper for the long haul.  We tramped the mall from one end to the other.  I bought myself some Christmas presents (clothes).  Sam found a shirt and a hat - his Christmas presents.  That shot about an hour.  We went back to the car dealer and of course the car wasn't ready, so we went to lunch.  Got back to the shop and the car still wasn't ready.  I came home and Sam waited.  I'm tempted to say it was a morning shot, but we did get some good maintenance work done on the car, a lunch out, some clothes, and I didn't have to wait at the dealership three hours, which I would have had to do in the old days when Sam was gainfully employed and I was in charge of taking cars to repair shops.  In Pennsylvania in the olden days vehicles had to be inspected twice a year, and when we had three vehicles I had to take each one in at least twice a year, in addition to times they needed repair, and one or the other of them always needed repair.  Michigan doesn't require inspections (the automobile is king in Michigan), so at least we don't have that to deal with anymore.

Well, not as many screwdrivers will be outta here as I had hoped.  Mostly it was a reorganization of screwdrivers and other things.  Yesterday's entry showed the Before of the pegboard.  Here is the After.

This is what he's getting rid of.

Sigh.

It's interesting what people choose to drag through their lives with no thought to whether or not they'll ever need or use the stuff.  Case in point:  us.  We're in the process of going through everything in the house.  Sam has turned his attention to his workshop and came upon this:

(Those of you from the Williamsport PA area will remember Robert Hall Village on Lycoming Creek Road.  Just how old is this yardstick anyway?  I still wear a sweater I bought there for $3.)

But I have digressed.  The wrench says "Williamsport PA" on one side and "Darling" on the other.  (The same people who remember Robert Hall Village will remember Darling Valve.)  It's solid brass, 16 inches long and weighs five pounds.  We're guessing it was used to open the fire hydrants that were made at Darling.  It belonged to Sam's grandfather and then his father and now Sam.  Why have we kept it all these years?  Dunno.  We've contacted the historical museum in Williamsport to see if they want it.

Department of wretched excess:  Here is Sam's collection of screwdrivers.  There are others that didn't make the pictures.

Although to be fair, the middle collection is a set of nut drivers.  He's in the midst of sorting through all his tools and will get rid of duplications.  Son and Grandson alert:  If you want any tools, let Dad/Grandpa know.  He's thinking of taking them to the Salvation Army.

We put a filing cabinet and two shelving units out by the curb the other day during "take anything" trash pickup week, and they were gone within hours.  We've never yet put anything out by the curb that wasn't snapped up by someone.  One's man's trash ...

Here's something to think about the next time we're tempted to blame bad parenting when a young person picks up a gun and goes on a rampage.  I remember when the do-gooders had so many mental hospitals closed, thinking the people would be taken in by family or friends or could manage on their own.  That resulted in myriads of homeless people who were at the mercy of those who wanted to take advantage of them.  Now there aren't the facilities needed to treat all those with mental illnesses unless you're very rich and can afford private institutions.  And it's very difficult to get treatment for the mentally ill if they don't agree to treatment.  Most of them don't and won't.

How many young people like the boy in this story are out there?  Way too many.  What are we doing to provide places where they can get treatment?  Not much.

(Thanks to Joan for this reference.)

Thus says the LORD:  “A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and  bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be  comforted for her children, because they are no more.” [Jeremiah 31:15]

... and their families.  Please God, put your loving arms around them all.