Ann's Joy Thread

I sometimes thin the hardest part of being a mom was teaching them to be responsible so that they could grow up and move away to live their own lives.

Annie

What do Bunnies do in they're not playing footy?

Was Susan your middle child?

With all that position entails

She is lovely, but does not resemble the rest of you.

She looks a bit more like her dad, but she still has a lot of "Windham" in her - Windham being my mom's family. You've been seeing their pics on Facebook the last few days. The one I posted this morning has my three with Cousin Jill's daughter. You can tell they all came from the same family.

Another great day message from Ralph Marston. If you have time after the brief video, you might consider visiting his site - lots of very positive free stuff there. You don't need to be a member to visit and roam around. Membership is very low-cost, and woth it, though.

http://greatday.com/cgi-bin/X10/video.pl?3538b07HGucc

Quote :

The first step in moving forward is to stop looking
backwards. Stop wishing that things had been different and
start working to make things a whole lot better.

Be okay with what is, and be positive and creative in making
good things from it. Remind yourself that each situation is
a starting point from which you can work to create
meaningful value.

Where does Susan live and what is her occupation?
I am interested in her.

She'a a high school counselor, Alice. She and her husband live in Colorado.

News flash: Bunnies Eat Tigers for Dinner (54-10)



Position W L D B Pts
1. Rabbitohs 9 1 0 0 18
2. Roosters 7 2 0 0 14
3. Storm 7 2 0 0 14
4. Sea Eagles 6 3 0 0 12
5. Knights 5 4 0 0 10
6. Titans 5 5 0 0 10
7. Raiders 5 4 0 0 10
8. Broncos 5 5 0 0 10
16. Wests Tigers 2 8 0 0 4
http://www.rabbitohs.com.au/news-display/Rabbitohs-Romp-Against-Tigers/74974

When Ann isn't crowing, she's rabbiting on.

Give me a break, though. This is the first time I've followed a sports team since Don Meredith retired from the Dallas Cowboys. I'm as shocked as anyone.

But these days, I speak Inglis.

Not exactly Marlon Brando's Jor-El.

Hope it's better than Star Trek - and I'm a Trekkie. I was very disappointed after all the hype.

Speaking of cool movies, I've posted this link and 1st part vid before, but with Audie Murphy's story coming up again, and expecially for younger "lurkers," etc. I thought somebody might get a kick of this film, 1953's Gunsomefrom Universal Studios. I saw it in the theater long,long ago. It is still one of my AM faves. You have to watch it in 10 minute segments, but it's free, and, I think, is still a story worth watching.

Annie



If you want to see the rest, you can find all the little vids on this page:

Gunsome clips

Shelagh, do you know of any way to shorten such a long URL so it will fit on a normal page?

I think if you go to tinyurl.com

I put it in tinyurl and got this:

https://www.google.com/search?q=Gunsmoke
+(1953)+#q=Gunsmoke+(1953)&tbm=vid&sourc
e=lnt&tbs=srcf:H4sIAAAAAAAAANOuzC8tKU1K1

Still seems long!

And, while I'm at this, These two very short vids show the opening scenes of an episode of The Virginian series called "Ryker." Many of you who have been around a while may recognize the title, and remember that Clu gulager's Emmett Ryker was the inspiration for Jake Holder, of the Redstone Saga.







I'm putting these vids together here to see if you guys catch the little "coincidence."

And just in case, the whole Ryker episode can be watched here:

Ann, for future reference, to add a shortened URL, click on the link icon above the posting box. Paste the link into the first box and the title for the link into the second.

Thank you, Shelagh.

Annie

Best ad yet:

Memorial Day is a day of joy -- a time to pay a little homage to some of the people who were big part of my life, and who are now gone.

My cousin Julie shared some old photos of two of those people we shared in our lives withwhen we were younger - her cousin; my brother:



C. W. "Bill" Levingston, as many of you remember from older posts, was a decorated Vietnam vet, Lt. Commander and pilot of a Navy aircraft. He was awarded two air medals and a DFC. During the action that won hum the Navy's highest military honor, his plane suffered two hits. Even so, he continued on to his secondary target and "unloaded his cargo" before heading back to base. By that time, his instrument panel had failed and he was almost out of fuel. It was late at night - no visibility. The air controller had to talk him - and his crew - down to a safe landing.

I did not believe we should have been fighting that war, but it doesn't lessen my pride in my brother for, not only doing what he believed was the right thing, but doing it above and beyond that call of duty.

The other picture Julie posted was of her dad - my Uncle Feagin. If you have been around these parts for a while, you may remember the stories I have told about him.



I was only two years old when he came back from WWII, so I don't know the names of the bars he wore on his uniform, I just remember there were more than a few. A graduate of Quantico, a Marine captain by the end of the war, and eventually a full colonel and commander of the Marine Reserve base in Southeast Texas. In addition, he went to school on the GI Bill and earned a law degree. He served for a time as our community's District Attorney, and later, as Orange's City Attorney. A local judge once told me that my uncle was the "most honest man he knew."

I would like to honor the two of them today by sharing one of my East Texas blogs:

Quote :

Wobble, Bobble, Turnover and Stop
Posted by ajoiner on September 4, 2009 at 8:55 PM comments (3)
Before I begin this particular recollection of mid-20th Century East Texas, I must make a few qualifications. I do not personally recall this particular incident. I was, I have been told, approximately 6 months old. That would make the time somewhere during the early months of 1944. I know of the happenings through the recollections of my mother, and while under most circumstances, I would regard the accuracy of her memory with suspicion, this particular tale revolves around certain actions of my Uncle Feagin, and her memory of the events fits quite neatly with my own personal memories of the individual I first remember from the age of about three, when he came home from that war that was supposed to end all such entities but did not quite make it.

According to my mother, Uncle Feagin had come home on furlough, and was intent, naturally, on visiting his parents. His first stop was at my parents home in Orange, where he had hoped to obtain transportation to Helmic by convincing my mom and dad that they, too, needed to visit my mother's parents. There was a bit of a snafu, however, as my father, who was busy overseeing the building of several destroyer escorts for the Navy, had too much going on at the shipyard to leave, even for a few days. My mother did not drive, and my father's recollection of the time and work it had taken to remove the dents from the old '41 Chevy that had been acquired during my uncle's last visit home, had him reluctant to, once again, put his prized auto into the hands of his somewhat, well, you'll get to know my uncle better as the tale progresses.
Feagin was undaunted. There was no problem. They would simply make the journey by train. My mother was not particularly eager. Not only was I around 6 months old, my older brother, by a bit of reckoning, would have been about three and a half. Somehow, she did not relish the idea of spending several hours on a train with me, my brother, and, perhaps most of all, with her brother. Feagin, of course, was as charming as ever, and before long, she was convinced.

The train that regularly made the journey up the eastern edge of the state was known officially as the Waco, Beaumont, Trinity, and Sabine; more "affectionately," it was called the "wobble, bobble, turnover, and stop." Somehow, that title did not bode an auspicious beginning, to my way of thinking, but, at the time, at 6 months, what did I know?

The trip apparently began quietly. I slept for some time, and my brother, Bill, was occupied with his picture books.

It seems the trouble began when the conductor came along the aisle selling food and trinkets. Feagin just had to have some. My mother was not pleased. Among the little goodies he purchased was a tiny plastic old-style telephone - the one with a tallish, slender stand that held an earpiece, if any of you should remember. It was of red and clear plastic, the clear part exposing an inside filled with tiny, multi-colored sugar candies. My three-and-a-half-year-old brother was ecstatic, and, of course, wanted the candies right away. My mother, of course, said "No," quite emphatically, I've been told. My brother responded vociferously for a moment, until mother gave him "the look." I remember that look quite clearly from the time that I reached three and a half. It even worked, momentarily, on Uncle Feagin.
But Uncle Feagin had been away from his big sister's influence for three years, and during that time, this Marine graduate of Quantico, this ninety-day wonder, had led troops onto every island in the Pacific that his family at home had read about in the papers. Although, when he wrote home, it was primarily to explain to his sister what he had learned about washing sand out of his skivvies, or to send word to my brother, who had become enamored of his Uncle Tom's wartime experiences in Alaska, taking photos USO visitors like Martha O' Driscoll and Ingrid Bergman, that the next time he saw the Air Force Staff Sergeant, he was to to tell the Staff sergeant to "jump in yon lake." The experiences that he preferred to keep to himself had given him a certain amount of courage when it came to dealing with his formidable older sister. Not very long after my mother's strong negative response, she looked around to see that her dear brother had a handful of the forbidden candies hidden behind his back, where my brother could reach them, and said brother was surreptitiously munching them down.

Mother never thought clearly when she was angry. And she most definitely was angry. She responded instinctively, and slapped her brother's hand, whereupon the tiny candies fell to the wooden floor and began rolling around, with my brother dropping down on his knees and grabbing and popping as many into his mouth as he could maneuver before our mother grabbed him up and stopped him.

It was about this time that my uncle became embarrassed by the attention they were garnering. He chided my mother for not having more control over her children, and escaped to the smoking car for the rest of the trip.

As my mother sat fuming, a very nice lady who had been sitting across the aisle, observing, leaned over and apologetically inquired, "Excuse me, dear, but please tell me that man travelling with you is not your children's father!"

Beautiful.

Love,

Betty

Precious and Funny memories!