I will have a cup of coffee in the morning and read my PAPER newspaper like I used to, before the Web.

I will eat breakfast with a knife and fork and not with one hand typing.

I will get dressed before noon.

I will make an attempt to clean the house, wash clothes, and plan dinner before even thinking of the Web.

I will sit down and write a letter to those unfortunate few friends and family that are Web-deprived.

I will call someone on the phone who I cannot contact via the Web.

I will read a book... if I still remember how.

I will listen to those around me about their needs and stop telling them to turn the TV down so I can hear the music on the Web.

I will not be tempted during TV commercials to check for email.

I will try and get out of the house at least once a week, if it is necessary or not.

I will remember that my bank is not forgiving if I forget to balance my checkbook because I was too busy on the Web.

Last, but not least, I will remember that I must go to bed sometime... and the Web and Goldtoken will always be there tomorrow!

author unknown....

The question is Why Blog?

I blog because I would like to add to the World of Knowledge. Blogging is a new way to communicate online. It is all about the content of a blog that matters. The content is what keep people coming back to see what you are talking about.

You can blog to find a new job or inform the world about the job that you have. You can shout out your individual passion to the world.

Blogging can give you free advertising about something that you are selling.

There are not enough hours in the day to stay in contact with everyone you want to so just send them your blog address and blog away. You can create a family blog and allow just the members of your family to read it.

Blogging is my quiet space to sip my mint tea with lemon and share some fun with some very special people.


We all take information from the web and send it through emails. The person that wrote that beautiful poem or inspirational message that you have on your profile, just maybe in need of your Peach Cobbler recipe <hint, hint>. So give something useful back to the world. Blog away and make the World a more knowledgeable place.

A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life, wrote a blank check made payable to 'The United States of America' for an amount of up to and including my life.

Below is the best article that I have ever read about 911.

Leonard Pitts Jr.: We'll go forward from this moment
By LEONARD PITTS JR.

This column by Leonard Pitts Jr. was published in The Miami Herald on Sept. 12, 2001, and received an extraordinary response from readers worldwide.

It's my job to have something to say.

They pay me to provide words that help make sense of that which troubles the American soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.

You monster. You beast. You unspeakable Scumbag.

What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward's attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped we would learn? Whatever it was, please know that you failed.

Did you want us to respect your cause? You just destroyed your cause.
Did you want to make us fear? You just steeled our resolve.
Did you want to tear us apart? You just brought us together.

Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsome family, a family rent by racial, social, political and class division, but a family nonetheless. We're frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae - a singer's revealing dress, a ball team's misfortune, a cartoon mouse.

We're wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe because of that, we walk through life with a certain sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though - peace-loving and compassionate. We struggle to know the right thing and to do it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith, believers in a just and loving God.

Some people - you, perhaps - think that any or all of this makes us weak. You're mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that cannot be measured by arsenals.

Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning, and we are in shock. We're still grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still working to make ourselves understand that this isn't a special effect from some Hollywood blockbuster, isn't the plot development from a Tom Clancy novel.

Both in terms of the awful scope of their ambition and the probable final death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of terrorism in the history of the United States and, probably, the history of the world. You've bloodied us as we have never been bloodied before. But there's a gulf of difference between making us bloody and making us fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the last time anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt and monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage, terrible in our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of justice.

I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with dread of the future.

In the days to come, there will be recrimination and accusation, fingers pointing to determine whose failure allowed this to happen and what can be done to prevent it from happening again. There will be heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms. We'll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably determined.

You see, the steel in us is not always readily apparent. That aspect of our character is seldom understood by people who don't know us well. On this day, the family's bickering is put on hold.

As Americans, we will weep; as Americans, we will mourn; and as Americans, we will rise in defense of all that we cherish.

So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us? It occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of your hatred. If that's the case, consider the message received. And take this message in exchange: You don't know my people. You don't know what we're capable of.

You don't know what you just started.

But you're about to learn.

mcinturff emailed this to me and I am looking forward to being just as sassy:

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I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, or my loving family for less grey hair or a flatter belly. As I've aged, I've become kinder to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own best friend.

I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avant garde on my patio.

I’m entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant...

I’ve seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon, before they’ve had the chance to know or understand the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read or play games on the computer until 4 a.m.? Or to eat popcorn whether it is buttery or salty or both? Even to sleep until noon if I feel like it?

I love the freedom I feel when I dance to those wonderful tunes of the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s (or hip hop even) and if, while I dance, I choose to weep over a lost love...well, I will weep. I will relish the sensation of big fat tears rolling down my cheeks, and falling where they may. I will mourn my losses and celebrate my love as I wish.

I’m not embarrassed by sadness , tears , or laughter .

I’ll walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and I’ll dive into the waves :sea::::swim::::sea: with abandon if I wish to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They too, will get old one day.

I enjoy the time I spend with people of all ages: babies, teens, parents, peers and elders. I've discovered that each age sees the world through its own wonderful lens, and I feel privileged to look through them all.

I know I am sometimes forgetful . But then again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, when a child suffers, when the world around you seems to be filled with war, poverty and despair, or even when somebody's beloved pet dies and leaves them without companionship?

But broken hearts are what give us strength, understanding, and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.

I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turn grey, and my youthful laughs forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed; so many have died before their hair could turn silver.

As you get older, it’s easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've earned the right to be wrong.

So, to answer your question, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I’ve become. I’m not going to live forever, but while I’m still here, alive, I won’t waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what might be.

And I shall eat dessert every single day if I feel like it.


So take that :Zap::::Zmm: if you don't like it!

We never need to forget.

After eight years, we still struggle to fathom the depth of this tragedy.

As Americans we shook the dust from our eyes, the broken glass from our hair, put our dead to rest, shed our tears and settled on a mission to find the animals that crept into our country, murdered our family and friends and destroyed our landmark. These people should have been tracked down and disposed of just as maliciously as they took the lives of thousands of New Yorkers.

I worked on the 83rd floor in the 2nd Tower of the World Trade Center for 18 years. These buildings were supposed to outlast any catastrophic. They were built to withstand earthquakes and hurricane winds and equipped with superior security after the bombing in 1993. Although my division of the company moved to New Jersey, I left 180 coworkers there. Thirteen of them were buried in that mass amount of rubble that was created from pure hatred.

These animals that tried to scar my memories and tamper with my past have not succeeded. The towers still exist within me because they were embedded in my soul. Stretched across a part of my heart in which no terrorist act can touch. We paid a terrible price for living in an open and free democratic society and if we lost sight of the gift and the values we endeavor, then the terrorists will have won.

I looked over at Lady Liberty during that time. Our Statue of Liberty stood tall. She was wearing a veil of smoke, covered in dust, blood and she had to be crying. I could imagine her being very angry, but she did not SURRENDER.

I suffered loss of concentration, withdrawal, headaches, sleep disturbance, sadness, much tearfulness, anger and feelings of just helplessness. It may be taking me longer, but I know one day I will get pass this crisis as I have others in the past – with toughness and with devotion to this exceptional land that we call America! Every anniversary, I feel that I am getting a little bit closer to a day that will not start off as gloomy as the year before. I have not reached that point yet where the tears have stopped completely on nine, one-one. Our mind and body have a way of marking time often without our conscious being aware. On 911, I sometimes feel that same rush of adrenaline that my body activated to cope with the trauma when it first happened.

Despite it all, in an act of defiance, I still give the terrorist absolutely no satisfaction. I stand with my knees straight not bent. The U.S. flag outside my house stands tall. Old Glory is blowing in the wind. Yes, New York City was a city under siege, but we have and will prevail.

The towers are being rebuilt and yes! They will rise from the ASHES of the PHOENIX!

GOD BLESS AMERICA!

Lorraine

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I read the paragraph below a few years ago and doing this time of the year, it speaks volumes on how I feel.

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You may have hit the World Trade Center but you still missed America. You terrorist does not understand that we don't live in America, America lives in us! Killing a few thousands of us will not change us. It is called America's spirit. Sleep tight, if you can…because Hey! We're still Coming for You! Keep thinking that it is over!

I am not a Yankee fan but my son is so I attended many games. My most memorable moment in Yankee Stadium was watching Dave Righetti pitch his no-hitter against the Boston Red Sox on July 4, 1983, on George Steinbrenner birthday. It was truly a remarkable day.

Hats off to ALL the history that took part in that stadium!

A man was exploring caves by the seashore. In one of the caves he found a canvas bag with a bunch of hardened clay balls. It was like someone had rolled clay balls and left them out in the sun to bake. They didn't look like much, but they intrigued the man, so he took the bag out of the cave with him. As he strolled along the beach, he would throw the clay balls one at a time out into the ocean as far as he could.

He thought little about it, until he dropped one of the clay balls and it cracked open on a rock. Inside was a beautiful, precious stone! Excited, the man started breaking open the remaining clay balls. Each contained a similar treasure. He found thousands of dollars worth of jewels in the 20 or so clay balls he had left. Then it struck him. He had been on the beach a long time. He had thrown maybe 50 or 60 of the clay balls with their hidden treasure into the ocean waves. Instead of thousands of dollars in treasure, he could have taken home tens of thousands, but he had just thrown it away!

It's like that with people. We look at someone, maybe even ourselves, and we see the external clay vessel. It doesn't look like much from the outside. It isn't always beautiful or sparkling, so we discount it. We see that person as less important than someone more beautiful or stylish or well known or wealthy but we have not taken the time to find the treasure hidden inside that person.

There is a treasure in each and every one of us. If we take the time to get to know that person, and if we ask God to show us that person the way He sees them, then the clay begins to peel away and the brilliant gem begins to shine forth.

May we not come to the end of our lives and find out that we have thrown away a fortune in friendships because the gems were hidden in bits of clay. May we see the people in our world as God sees them.

Thank you for looking beyond my clay vessel. I am so blessed by the gems of friendship I have in my real and internet life.