Papa Pat Tiny Devotionals

            I have reviewed all four of the books contained in the Omnibus separately on Amazon; they are paired. 1&2 should be read together, as should 3&4. Get the Omnibus, it's REALLY the way to go. Setup: Brilliant scientist Dr. Skye Chadwick is working with brilliant scientist ideas and technology, and has achieved a breakthrough: a portal to alternate realities. And there are a LOT of alternate realities. There are so many that they need some way to make sure that they are tracking the same world consistently; so, they need a test subject. ENTER: Sherlock Holmes. They discover that in one particular world, Holmes exists as a real person, and has near-identical existence with the character found in literature. Since many of the team are fans, they decide to use him as the focus of the viewing. And, ALMOST by accident, bring him to our world. It's only ALMOST by accident because Dr. Chadwick is a former cop, and the scene they view is Reichenbach Falls, and as Moria

A small story with a happy ending. Together, my gift-from-God, happily-ever-after trophy wife Vanessa, the elegant, foxy, praying black grandmother of Woodstock, GA, and I have 10 children and eleven grandchildren, with grandchild number 12 due in about a month. She and her first husband had three boys and four girls, while I had two boys and one girl with my previous wife. We both love all of our children and grandchildren, and the only clue as to which is the genetic donor is found by checking pigmentation. We both love our kids, see? And we both love our grandchildren. And yet... And yet, in a way I do not quite understand, even after being a parent for more than 34 years, I have a unique affection for every single one of my offspring. Sometimes it's easy to identify why I have a special place for each one of these 21 individuals; Mickey takes me to the range with him; Tobiyah boldly moves cross country. Other relationships, particularly with the littles, are a bit more difficul

This is prompted by the recent jury verdict on the police shooting of Philando Castile. I'm not going to go over circumstances of the shooting, nor the trial which gave acquittal to the police officer who shot and killed Philando Castile. I want to make two quick comments about that specific case, and then tell you what I do when I get pulled over while carrying. Comment # 1 . Philando Castile was legally carrying a firearm, and in no way using the firearm to present a threat. He did ABSOLUTELY no thing wrong, and I want to be clear about that. Comment  # 2 . His family asked that any financial support to be directed to Shiloh Hills Missionary Baptist Church in St. Paul . It is my understanding that they do not have financial needs at this point, but a letter expressing your support and prayer might mean a lot. The snail mail address is :  501 West Lawson Avenue ,  St. Paul, Minnesota 55117; the email is at the weblink. And now for the general information about driving while armed:

Growing up ain't easy for nobody. Didn't you ever wonder why Tom and Sid Sawyer were being raised by Aunt Becky? So, I'm not trying to say my sneaky passage into adulthood was any better or worse than anybody else I know. I just know it had all the bad stuff I wanted, thank you very much. Plenty of good stuff! Yes indeed! But my older sister and I were unique on that little dirt road in Macon, GA, in the early 1950's because we were the only kids living with a single mom. However, we were ASTOUNDINGLY fortunate to be living in one side of a rental duplex right next door to the house where my mom grew up, and where my grandmother and grandfather still lived. So, when my mom went to work, my sister and I went next door, and that's how childcare worked in the country in Georgia in the early/mid 50s. And therefore, the only father I had, to speak of, for the first five years of my life was my grandfather, William (Bill) Jordan Paulette. He worked for the railroad, and d

Remember the first time you used a melon baller? Magic, wasn't it? Those long summer afternoons, curled up with an assortment of fruit. Melon ballers, and a cool glass of water by your side. Using the big ones for watermelon, cantaloupe, pumpkin. The medium size melon baller for calabash, sponge guard, and yellow squash. And the day when you finally graduated to the miniature, jewel like elegance of making melon balls with the smallest baller; a platter-necklace of peach, strawberry, apple, and walnut, and the delicate traceries of blue agave. Dipping the melon ballers in the cold water to rinse between each fruit, until finally, you had the utmost in organic drinks: God's fresh spring water, lightly kissed by the fragrance of cucumber, lime, and snake gourd! Those sweet, long afternoons, working out in the orchard. Playfully interacting with those mischievous hornets! Oh, how they loved to sway and dance with you! Will we ever see days like that again? It's really SUCH a p

    And my book review is found here . I have numerous reasons for loving DaddyBear the Minivandian and his crew: they are funny, heroic, silly, and real. The stories range from flatly ridiculous negotiations with a maple tree to stay out of the septic tank, to classically formed tales of the struggle between the Bad Guys and the Good Guys. This particular book, by the way, combines all of that. Here's how: The ancient & wise terrapin storyteller gives  young Elsked, the son of DaddyBear and Ruarin, the backstory of his family. This provides the epic part of the book. In exchange, however, he demands that Elsked tell HIM stories as well. And so, the lad relates the things he knows about, and these are the sweet and delicious nuggets about flying dogs, etc. It's a nice, long compilation, and I can see this as being done very nicely as a book reading before a fire on long winter nights, with big-eyed children sipping hot chocolate, as Papa turns the pages and adds expression

Gonna try to get this down before the meds kick in and I fall asleep. Or whatever. The dental hygienist said to me, "Are you okay?" And I turned to look at her with amazement and said, "Are you crazy? She's stabbing me in the mouth with a needle!" Today is Friday. I had two teeth extracted on Monday: one from my top jaw, left side, the other from the bottom jaw, also left side. I've had double extractions before, and I just don't remember it hurting this bad, for this long. So, I called the dentist today, and she told me to come in and she would look at it, and she said it sounded like I had a dry socket. Doesn't sound bad, does it? Hey, the socket is dry, just squirt it with some WD40 or Rem Oil or a light coat of LSA, whatever, and tootle on down the road! Oh, nay, nay. That is NOT what they do. First she shot my poor jaw full of novocain, then she grabbed a... ...I don't know WHAT she grabbed. I think it had a diesel-electric motor. And she JA