I am having a hard time concentrating on my work at hand today. I know that it is only March, but those summertime breezes are steadily beckoning to me. The memories from summers past begin to taunt me each time I turn back to work.
Trying hard to concentrate on the task at hand, I sense that I will not win ...“I can hear the sounds of violins long before it begins”. I find myself on the water and watch the seagulls take flight. Slowly, I begin to drift towards the song, “Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore”.
“When marimba rhythms start to play Dance with me, make me sway Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore Hold me close, sway me more”
For just a moment, I stop on the water's edge to feel the tide settle in and a breeze roll across my face. The sun has begun its slow descent into the next starry night. The evening temp hovering near perfect. The song continues to play …
“Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me”
I turn to see the hung sheers in the doorway begin their sway just before our eyes lock ...
“Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have the magic technique
When we sway I go weak”
Our hands become as one as we begin our dance,
“I can hear the sounds of violins Long before it begins Make me thrill as only you know how Sway me smooth, sway me now”
“Other dancers may be on the floor Dear, but my eyes will see only you Only you have the magic technique When we sway I go weak”
“I can hear the sounds of violins Long before it begins Make me thrill as only you know how Sway me smooth, sway me now You know how Sway me smooth, sway me now”
I am in no way an authority on gardening or planting, but my Mother has put out a garden every year for as long as I can remember. But this year, due to a scheduled open heart surgery in the next few days there will be no garden this year. I was telling her that I wanted to plant some tomatoes at least.
She explained to me that there are two types of main seeds to choose from as you buy for your garden. Modern Hybrids or Heirloom. The hybrids are like what you get at the grocery store, whereas the heirloom vegetables are the old-time variety. They are open-pollinated, which means you can save your own seed to replant from year to year and hand down the seeds through multiple generations of families. I found that interesting so I decided to do a little research on it.
Exceptional taste is the No. 1 reason why people choose heirloom seeds
I found that with hybrids, taste and nutrition have been sacrificed. Research has shown, hybrid vegetables and grains are substantially less nutritious. With commercial growers,
I am having a hard time concentrating on my work at hand today. I know that it is only March 5th, but those summertime breezes are steadily beckoning to me. The memories from summers past begin to taunt me each time I turn back to work.
Trying hard to concentrate on the task at hand, I sense that I will not win ...“I can hear the sounds of violins long before it begins”. I find myself on the water and watch the seagulls take flight. Slowly, I begin to drift towards the song, “Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore”.
“When marimba rhythms start to play Dance with me, make me sway Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore Hold me close, sway me more”
For just a moment, I stop on the water's edge to feel the tide settle in and a breeze roll across my face. The sun has begun its slow descent into the next starry night. The evening temp hovering near perfect. The song continues to play …
Reading IBO Associate, Bev Austin’s Press Release, “Music Threatened Her Life”, inspired me to write my story. It’s not as dramatic, but the fact that I love music and without modern technology, I would not be able to listen to music.
The story took me back to a time in my life where I had inner struggles of accepting my loss and the changes in my life because of it.
Not only do I enjoy listening to music, although not a professional, I also play the rhythm guitar, bass guitar, percussions and the harmonica. I have never had a music lesson in my life nor can I read music. Everything I play is by ear or sometimes by watching. At the time of my loss I was a member of a weekend band.
During my twenties, I started to occasionally experience what I thought was something like swimmers ear but without the swimming. Usually in one ear, it would be like I was in a vacuum and all sound was way off in the distance. Eventually it would go away and I would forget about it.
In my thirties, it started happening more than occasionally and both ears were experiencing the problem. In my forties it had progressed to most of the time. Then one day on the job ...
James Garfield’s stay-at-home strategy kept him at Lawnfield throughout the campaign.
Source History Net
Most of us are familiar with the use of trains and the whistle stops of former presidential campaigns that occurred in the 1800’s, But the same era was also the heyday of Front Porch campaigns that led to three successful presidential campaigns, James Garfield in 1880, Benjamin Harrison in 1888 and William McKinley in 1896.
In June of 2008, U.S. Senator, Jeff Sessions, used the Front Porch campaign strategy in his bid for re-election in the Alabama’s Republican Party and received 92 percent of the vote.
In the summer of 1880, the Republican Party was facing a tightly contested presidential election. With the embarrassment of Grant’s tenure as president and the current state of the bad economy associated with Hayes, James Garfield would need to present himself to the people as a different politician to win the Oval Office.
Declaring a new political approach, the Republican Party decided to use ...
“The noise got louder and was drowning out what the man was yelling at us. I thought I heard him say not to cross the street. “Mom he is telling us not to cross the street!” Yes, that is what he is saying, but why? The answer came.” “A wall of water about 5 feet in height rolled down the street in front of us. It was a flash flood. Totally disgusted, I slammed my fist into my other hand.”
I don’t know what the others were feeling. As I stood watching the madness of what was occurring unfold before us, I thought to myself, “I cannot go on.” The lantern of what appeared to be our only safe haven was swaying just on the other side and now impossible to reach. There was no other place to go. We were out in the open and it was still so dark you could barely see if anyone was standing beside you. The whole town seemed to have disappeared. It was almost as if we were in a fog that had turned black. We were wet, exhausted and on the verge of shock. And then I thought about what might happen to us if Mom went into shock. No, I decided I did not want to think about that. I knew the storm clouds were gathering again and we had to do something . I looked at the water and realized that if we had been any closer we would have been carried away or if we had made it across we would have been as well. The one blessing of the night I realized is that we were standing on higher ground and when a flash of lightning occurred, it looked like a small lake between us and the swaying lantern. Mom quietly said, “We have to cross” No one said a word. She knew our silence meant she was facing an argument ahead. None of us could swim ...
"I had heard Tina land on her feet as she jumped from the top bunk. I listened to her running footsteps as her shadow entered the hall and just as she made the turn she was suddenly gone. I did not want to tell my Mother but the storm was coming again and now we all had to find that house. I was afraid we were going to run out of time!" "I walked up to my Mother and quietly said, “Mom”. I don’t think she heard me. “Mom” She stopped and looked at me. They all stopped to look at me. I hesitated. “Mom” I said again. I did not know how to begin. I was just getting ready to say it, and then bless her heart, “Here I am Mommy!” I heard Tina say." It was one of the most wonderful moments of my life when Tina reappeared. The fact that we were all standing there together again, even in the midst of the chaos and destruction was, I felt one of the most monumental blessings that we would ever realize. But there was no time to be happy about the miracle of our reunion. Mother Nature was not done. There was another round of storms marching towards us and the darkness was worse than a wet sheet clinging to us. We could barely see one another unless lightning streaked across the clouds and it seemed so close at times that I was afraid that a lightning bolt was going to be our real killer. We all stood there waiting for some kind of answer as to what we should do. To me it looked like the whole town was gone. At 28, my Mother, I was sure she ...
“I was not ready to accept my death and stubbornly decided I was getting out alive. I wanted my Mother was all I could think about. It was at that very moment that I shut my eyes and mentally went down to my knees in prayer.”
My descent down the side of the house was slow until my feet softly touched the ground. I felt hypnotized by the bright light and began my walk towards it. Then I felt my self-outside of me, and for just a few moments I watched as I was walking towards the light.
The part of me that was standing outside of me was on the very edge of the bright light. I could sense the storms fury. I realized I had a choice … I chose the light
… All of my remaining fears left me. My doubts were gone.
What happens next is going to be the hardest part to write about. To survive everything that happened on the first hit only to be ripped out from my Mother’s grasp and once again be carried off was unbelievable to me. What could I do to stop the madness of it? How could I save myself? No one could even find me to try to save me. My thoughts turned to God.
My Mother was the only witness to see the monster come back and take me again. I have never talked about what happened and how I managed to survive the experience to her or to anyone else. I have always just skipped over that part of the story. Even my mother will tell you that the tornado carried me off again and then will skip that part and smoothly continue on.
I decided not to talk about it because I thought and still do that most people would not believe me. No one seemed to or seems to believe in miracles anymore. In 1968 the world was changing with the hippie movement on one side talking about peace and love. While on the other side was the Vietnam War with the protesters and the rioters tearing up the streets. Who wanted to hear a 12 year old's version of a miracle with the world in constant upheaval?
But thinking about and writing about the storm over the past few days and trying to decide whether to include or skip over this part again, I realized that it just wasn’t me that had not been telling the full story. But that all of us had a part of the terrifying experience that we never talked about.
Something told me to run and to run like hell. I darted into the direction I thought would be away from it … but it was too late. I was immediately lifted just off the ground and was running in midair and then I started to spin. Someone grabbed hold of my left leg and pulled me back down to the ground. It was my Mother!
But I made the mistake of immediately standing up again. This time there was no hesitation on the storms insistence on taking me. It had me again and it was not going to let me go. I heard my Mother cry out in anguish as she once more tried to reach out and save what may have been the only child left out of the five she had carried ...
The moment of impending death to my 12 year old mind was more than I could take. My whole body began to shake as I sat waiting for it. I had pleaded with God all that day for everything to get back to normal and when I went to bed that night with a horrible stomach ache, I reminded him of my prayer. But waking up now it was obvious he had ignored my plea.
That morning I knew the day wasn’t going to be right. When I stepped outside to walk to the bus stop I noticed that the sun was way too bright. “Damn it”, I had said to myself. I was done with everything being all shiny and new. Nothing had been the same since we had moved into our new mobile home. It was like we just didn’t fit. There just wasn’t anything real about it. Now here I am sitting in bed waiting to die? I don’t even get the chance to fight? My mind then began to cry out, “Tina? Tina? Where are you?”
The mobile home began to rock. Out of time I thought ...
4:45 pm. No Mom or Jennifer. Where were they? I was feeling somewhat better and got dinner for us. Then I stepped outside for just a moment. The neighbor lady was walking by and she told me that there was a Tornado Watch until 11 pm and to be sure to tell my Mother. “Okay” was all I said. The sky looked fine to me so I never gave it another thought.
8:50 pm. It was still pouring down rain very hard and the wind was blowing. Mom made a comment to me that the dog and cat were acting strange. I asked her what did she mean and she replied the dog seemed to be pacing and the cat was jumpy. My stomach ache was suddenly back again. I finished my homework. I told Mom I was sick and wanted to go to bed. Debbie had company over for the night, so she told me to go sleep in her bed and she would take the couch.
I was glad to finally be in bed. I then quickly reminded God of my prayers for everything to be normal by tomorrow morning. I glanced at the clock which said 9:15. I rolled over onto my stomach; I had no idea that in two hours, at 11:15 pm exactly, that same clock was going to come to a stop forever.
As I began to awake I knew something was wrong. My Mother standing over me, trying to get me to move in a voice filled with fear. The telephone was ringing, the bedroom door stood ajar with a single light being cast down the long hallway from the Living room. I felt my youngest sister lying beside me and my body was suddenly hot and sweaty from her being so close to me as she slept. Jennifer Lynn. In all of her childhood moments she never let me get to far from her sight. That night was no different. I sat up and looked at my Mother and calmly said “Oh” as if I had been expecting it.
I sat in bed looking at the light coming down the hallway. Then I heard the next to the youngest sister’s feet hit the floor as she jumped down from the top bunk in her bedroom. Glancing quickly, I saw the rest of my sisters and one of their friends standing huddled in a corner. Back to the door my eyes went and in horror I watched as everything went into slow motion while my Mother was reaching for the door in a desperate attempt to keep it open until the last one of us was in the bedroom. But Tina never made it.
I watched her shadow in the hallway disappear just before the bedroom door was jerked from my Mother’s hands and slammed shut. The lights went out but the phone kept up its eerily ringing for a few seconds longer. Then that fear of complete silence crept in as we all waited in the dark for it to come take us. A heavy stillness hung in the air.
This week I decided to put Gold Medal Wine Club on the spotlight itself. I looked at many different reviews, (2014, 2015) where they were compared against other wine clubs. On average they were rated a 3 star out of the best top 5 and for the wine collectors they had an average rate of 2 out of 5.
Although these reviews were good overall, to me they were not defined enough and what kept standing out was the fact that they all said Gold Medal had very strict standards. So then, why were they rated a 3 average instead of a one or a two I kept asking myself? So, I went through all of the reviews again to find the common denominator. Price is what it came down to. All of the reviews said that compared to other wine clubs, that compared to other wine clubs, GM’s were higher.
Perhaps I am wrong, but I don’t think price should be in any part of a rating. I want to know about the wine. I can decide on what price I will pay. What I want is the rating on quality, their standards and consistency on those standards. How about special requests on hard to find wine? Are they flexible enough on delivery? What about customer service, do they excel? Is the website informative and user friendly? What about their guarantees?
So, I scrapped all of those reviews and instead looked for a good independent “stand alone” review and I wanted to get as current as I could. What follows is one of the most detailed I could find. In fact, so detailed, I did not include all of it, but you can find the full review at
If you are on the hunt for those hard-to-find or highly rated wines, Gold Medal Wine Club is here to serve. As an independent wine club, they bring the most refined selections from boutique wineries around the globe to your door. With over six memberships and a PLUS add-on program, there is certainly a membership to suit everyone at Gold Medal Wine Club.
“Their specialty is award winning high quality wines from
