Thought Bubble

"It rained--yay! Out to dead-head roses!"

About

  • 2 sons and a daughter
  • CafeMom Pro

Kids

  • Boy
    Joseph 19 years old

    NASCAR, currently working...

  • Girl
    Jamie 22 years old

    Passed away 1991, almost 2...

  • Boy
    Jeremy 23 years old

    Married, college student...






     






















  • My daughter...






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  • Mercy Me--Homesick

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  • Some Favorite Quotes:

    Love is when you look into someone's eyes and see their heart.
     
    ~ Jill Petty 

    I'd rather be a could-be if I cannot be an are; because a could-be is a maybe who is reaching for a star. I'd rather be a has-been than a might-have-been, by far; for a might-have-been has never been, but a has was once an are.
     ~ Milton Berle

    Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened.
     ~ Dr. Seuss

    There are always flowers for those who want to see them.
     ~ Henri Matisse

    If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you. 
     ~ A.A. Milne; (Winnie-the-Pooh)

    How do you spell 'love'? - Piglet
    You don't spell it...you feel it. - Pooh 
     ~ A.A. Milne (Winnie-the-Pooh)

    Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art.... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.
    ~ C.S. Lewis

    The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.
    ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

     



    The Language of Flowers

    In Eastern lands they talk in flow'rs
    And they tell in a garland their loves and cares;
    Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowr's,
    On its leaves a mystic language bears.
    The rose is a sign of joy and love,
    Young blushing love in its earliest dawn,
    And the mildness that suits the gentle dove,
    From the myrtle's snowy flow'rs is drawn.
    Innocence gleams in the lily's bell,
    Pure as the heart in its native heaven.
    Fame's bright star and glory's swell
    By the glossy leaf of the bay are given.
    The silent, soft and humble heart,
    In the violet's hidden sweetness breathes,
    And the tender soul that cannot part,
    In a twine of evergreen fondly wreathes.
    The cypress that daily shades the grave,
    Is sorrow that moans her bitter lot,
    And faith that a thousand ills can brave,
    Speaks in thy blue leaves "forget-me-not".
    Then gather a wreath from the garden bowers,
    And tell the wish of thy heart in flowers.

    ~ James Gates Percival
     


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