Papa Pat Tiny Devotionals

If you DON'T have an ad blocker running, you will see a graphic link to the book next:     Don't  feel left out, in case you DO have an ad blocker running (as I do)! Here is a link to the book for you, after a picture of a chicken:    CHIKENS R GUD FOR U!!! (Because you ad-free people didn't get a graphic) A variation on 'In the country of the blind, the one-eyed man is king,' is that brand of lovely escapist literature (and movies) about being in possession of advanced technology among primitives. There are LOTS of ways to make this happen, from time warps via messing around with superstrings, as in the 1632 universe, or Lord Kalvan of Otherwhen,  to landing on a primitive planet, as in a million movies and Twilight Zone episodes, to all of the post-apocalyptic stories, regardless of the nature of the apocalypse.   Now, while I PERSONALLY would favor being provided with lots of weapons, ammo, and magic healing devices if I were to be dumped in a pre-industrial soci

"Dog Bite It!" That was something my grandmother used to say when she was mildly vexed. It came up mostly in circumstances where I had skinned my knee, bumped my head, etc, "Je-HOS-a-phat!" I have a very dim memory of hearing that as well, on occasions calling for an expression of dismay. Maybe it wasn't her saying it. Maybe  it was coming from the radio. Don't recall it that clearly. "Muscle Shoals!" That came from my grandfather, on occasions when 'neither "Dog Bite It" nor "Je-HOS-a-phat!" would work. I don't remember the particulars behind this utterance, but when I asked my grandmother about it, she said that there had been a big dam in Muscle Shoals. So, when circumstances arose that he wished to express his displeasure about, instead of saying, you know,  he determined to limit himself to 'Muscle Shoals." "Tabby!"  This is an expletive that I shared with my dear friend and co-counselor, Mrs. Cat

Today is Veteran's Day. OldNFO has a beautiful moving tribute here. I wish to honor my grandfather, William Jordan Paulette. He was born on August 3, 1899, and ran away from home to join the Army. I looked for, but cannot find, the only picture I have of him in uniform. His job was to take care of the mules, and the picture is of a squad of young men and a single grizzled sergeant standing at horse stable. Small generic French mutt is included in the photograph. He landed in France on this day, 100 years ago, the day the Armistice was signed. He told me that when Bill Paulette landed, that was one too many Bills in France, so Kaiser Bill left. He told me about catching the Spanish Influenza, and going to the hospital. I would have been a child, or at most a teenager, at the time of the conversation, so I had no idea how awful that epidemic was, and so I didn't know the significance of that; but he said he would wake up in the morning, to find that the two boys on either side o

If you are running an ad blocker, you won't see this: but you CAN see this: Escort Duty, by Tom Rogneby This particular work is so different  from his other writing, and frankly, from just about anything else I read, that I can't just jump into the review. Got to digress wildly, first. And besides that, this is something I wanted to say that was too long for a Facebook post. Also, as an experiment, I'm gonna use a naming convention that isn't a part of my tradition today, just to see if it seems right to do so. "The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, And the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding." (Proverbs 9:10, NASB) There have been times in my life, when I have allowed myself to get sucked into an argument with someone who had either had a bad church experience, or just developed anger on their own hook for some other reason. They tell me that they reject G-d, or that they reject the G-d of the Old Testament, or they reject something somethi

For those of you without an ad blocker:     And for those with ad blockers running, a link to the book . And now, it's story time, with Papa Pat! Gather around me, O my best-beloved, and I will share of my treasure of experience, that your life may be long in the land and your refrigerators full of food. Lo, long, long these many years ago, long before YOUR time, O my best-beloved, when Mr. Carter lived in the White House - - What's that, Dougie? You remember Mr Carter in the White House? Well, yes you do, Dougie, for you and I are nearly of an age. Well, back in that day - -What is it this time, Dougie? You remember Mr Ford and Mr Nixon and Mr Johnson, too? Yes, Dougie, but that isn't the time of which I speak. -What, Dougie? You remember Mr Kennedy and Mr. Eisenhower? You're PUSHING it, Dougie!  Now unless you need to go to the bathroom, sit over there and don't interrupt me again! Now, as I was saying, there came a time back in that day when your Papa Pat was ap

"Bind them on your fingers; Write them on the tablet of your heart. Say to wisdom, “You are my sister,” And call understanding your intimate friend;" (Proverbs 7:3-4, NASB) Unlike the fairy stories, we don't just stumble on a magical device that solves all of our problems. We have to WORK at getting the wisdom and understanding we need when the dragon descends on our village and burns it to the ground. And we have to start LONG before he gets there. I cannot find my copy of 'The Hobbit' in this catastrophe of a bookcase, laden with everything from textbooks to Torgersen . So, would somebody who can find their copy locate the short speech the archer makes to his arrow, right before he kills Smaug, and post it in the comments? I just want to make the point that his act wasn't a spur-of-the-moment event. Just part of my reason to love e-books.... Umm, this morning, I was SUPPOSED to meet an obligation to my 13 year-old son Kenneth. However, I was in a good bit of

  With maybe a small edit or two, this is a copy of the email I sent to the cheer coaches for the  Mill Creek Middle School Wildcats, in Woodstock, GA (Cultural Center of the Universe).  My 12 year-old 7th grade daughter, Alicia Ann, is a cheerleader. Last night, while I was proud of MANY things in the performance of the cheerleaders at the game, there were two items that turned ME into a cheerleader for your program. 1. The first person I saw when I stepped into the gym last night was a young lady with Down's Syndrome in her cheerleader regalia.  That was good enough for me, right there. I don't know this young lady's name, and I have no idea about her 'cheerleader' skill set (as the parent of a cheerleader, I don't even know what that skill set might be) but I do know this: her life will always include a memory of her role as a cheerleader for the Mill Creek Wildcats. And every cheerleader on that squad will be changed, by having her incorporated by the group.

"His own iniquities will capture the wicked, And he will be held with the cords of his sin." (Proverbs 5:22, NASB) I wonder if that holds for the semi-wicked? Does it hold for those who are just making an error in judgement? Hey, dummy: you are all tied up! I had a dear, DEAR friend make the statement, a few years back, that if you voted for (fill in the blank) he didn't want to have anything to do with you. It seems to me that he was restricting himself with that statement. Being tied with cords is very much about being restrained; can you make an argument that my DEAR friend (who is no longer on this earth) was sinning when he made that statement? Forty-one years ago, I watched another friend-who-is-closer-than-a-brother go through a heart-rending experience of struggling with God. At the end of it, he said to me "God just told me that whatever you do, if you don't do it in love, even if you are right, you are wrong." That was one of the most significant m

I don't follow the news. If there is anything I'm missing that would make me a better person, then I apologize, and will consider repenting; but truly, it's a policy I like. Despite my intentional ignorance,  I discovered there is a caravan of at least 4000 people (some estimate as many as 7200), mostly Hondurans, on the road in southern Mexico. The walk. They have been on the road for over two weeks, averaging 30 miles per day. They say they are heading for the US border. If they go to McAllen, Texas, which is the closest crossing to where they are now, it's going to take them another month, IF they can maintain the same pace. If 30 miles per day doesn't sound like much of a challenge, because you drive that to work every day, consider this: that's approximately the same PACE the Army requires for  passing Special Forces assessment : 18 miles in 4 hours, 30 minutes. The Army requires it be accomplished while carrying a 50 pound rucksack, but the point is this: