I can't tell who is happiest... the birthday boy or

his mother. But I know it is all good. Seems the only serious human face in the whole transmission is the baby boy, wondering why he was being shoved towards that Apple logo and why that machine was laughing at him... I really do wonder what it came out in the tiny one's mind.

To think I have to go back to work tomorrow and Wednesday, two days worth of Institutional Library Services training conference in Federal Way and then we get to travel to Hawaii on Saturday. By air of course.

Take care out there and watch out for all the little ones - they have to pay off the Bush-Obama debts... or not.

Amazing changes in my son - all around his... ain't it a wonder?

Gosh, what was all the fuss about?

Friday night and I am alone, packing for the weekend. I bought some new work shirts, six, two colors of blue, work trousers four pair, I will wear them out in the wash more than in the work, but that happens when one isn't using the rocks by the stream to beat the wash out once a week, love washing machines. My wife laughed that all the new clothes look the same - I will change the ties, although if I really found four or six that were the same but basically perfect - I would be wearing them all the time. Black paisley, in silk?

I checked our financial situation, and thank you investors in Wall Street, our mutual funds and some other investments are going up in price, like gasoline. I am sure that Washington DC would like me to blame their efforts in the corrections, but I figure the Chinese are buying in while things are cheap. The more they own of our souls the harder it will be to say NO to them, but they are still Communists thugs aren't they? Don't buy real estate in Taiwan. For sure it wasn't the twenty extra bucks (forty in two worker families) that showed up in our paycheck. Remember that, at the next Tea Party - the government does understand that reducing taxes does stimulate the economy - they also know if they don't keep their fingers around your throat that you might start to think you are boss, and they wouldn't like that. They do want you to petition the government, not tell them what to do and when, just ask them nicely and they will see if they can help. Anyway, we are a few thousand dollars ahead of the debts, better and better. But then our home wasn't in an Economic Crisis - just those real smart types in the big cities, they don't buy their clothes at Dickies.

Lots of Appleseeds going on across the nation this weekend, and we will work on everyone's safe shooting and paper punching perfections - hope to see lots of Riflemen recorded for our Nation's future. This is one of those special weekends: April 19th, 1775 is to be remembered the day that your neighbors stood up to the terrible government that was trying to snatch their leaders and take away their cannon, ammunition and military stores (and we can't even have machine guns now without a tax stamp - and our founding fathers had cannons of their own?). I do so think that everyone should read deeper into the Revolutionary War - it was not something to gloss over, it was a painful birth of a new independent nation, one without a King, one where you would be what you could make of yourself. Yep, good shooting out there and have a safe weekend, hope the farmers get the temperatures they need for planting and all those you love are safe and healthy, no matter where in the world they serve, y'all sleep sound for somewhere our service people are on watch and awake and aware to protect us.

Pardon me, tax time, I am behind and got to go...

It is interesting comparing the 1040 from 2007 with the 1040 from 2008. Same President for both years, wonder what it will look like for 2009. How will I feel about taxes next year?

Hibernation ended here today...

I have to get out there and stimulate the economy. Sure fuel prices have been creeping back up, still I had to cut the lawn and get rid of the leaves, attack the moss, stomp on the mole hills before they become mountains. And I know why bears are grumpy when coming out of hibernation, they go twist the wrong way when whacking a tree with dead bees and no honey, and they hurt their back, that's why. I was going to exercise gently and then go shoot, but responsibility got in the way. The yard looks a bit better, and after my left-over lunch (which I carefully ate around the rice and potatoes) my wife says she will take me out to dinner tonight - some pagan ritual probably - never know about Korean Baptist ladies.

I ironed my shirts and pants last night while watching men and women in a bit more than nothing dance and jump around the squared circle charming the chumps (yes, I was one paying attention - looking for the famous Ranger Chokehold), anyway, about my shirts and pants - it is time to buy replacements. Shirts, long sleeve, button down collar, size 16 1/2 33-35, color white, light blue or french blue, 100% to 80% cotton (six of them). Trousers, Dickies work trousers with cellphone pocket on right leg, reinforced knees, color steel or silver - but not white nor gray, 34 x 32, (six of them). That should help me look better, get my wife off my back a bit, and stir that economy. Those new shoes I bought, the Teva ones with the spider on the heel are very nice - one more pair of those. I also want a pair of Carhartt Duck Bib Overall to wear when I go shooting, seems some folks don't want the militia movement cammo worn and I have this weight and belt problem making my sitting shots bounce with my surging pulse beat. Love having a beating heart, just don't want the compression of my fat against the arteries to affect my shooting. Speaking of shooting and the economic stimulous package...

In the home are five clips of eight rounds of 30-06, and four loose rounds in the grab and go ammo can (.22 also but I never count them). In the Caravan are eighteen clips of eight rounds of 30-06, and sixteen rounds in a box, in one ammo can, and sixteen boxes of 30-06 (20 per box) and one box of Federal 30-06. Hardly enough for the depth of the Depression and Uncivil Disturbances about to show up at my front door. Nor is it enough to punch all the paper and steel targets I need to practice upon to get better at this American Rifleman position I aspire to... So I figure about five hundred dollars to CMP will get me about 1384 rounds of 30-06 in the ammo cans - with a give or take on the shipping costs. A couple more bricks of .22 would be good, the .45 APC and 9mm Luger are enough until I start shooting them for competition (never: too old, too slow, too un-needed - you know why men want bigger guns). Anyway, there are another hundred rounds of 30-30 and of 30-06 for the hunting rifles, and all kinds of bird shot and slugs for the shotgun.

Well, too much possibility of rain to wash the Caravan, although after a bit of reading I may sneak out and grease the chain on the motorcycle, bring the tires up to pressure if they aren't and prepare for sunshine riding on the Trusty Triumph, so much to do and only so much of me.

Not much here, but any story is better than none...

I got on my morning ferry, looking for that seat to nap upon, and under the seat across from me was a five dollar bill, the new Lincoln in colors and tricks. I pick it up and wonder at my luck, I need half a million or so, but five dollars is a start. Where did it come from? The last trip from the island brought most of the third shift off and the students, those kids that live on the island and commute to school by ferry. Since adults use wallets or money clips I go with the thought that it is some kid's lunch money and got lost along the way. I give it to the Security Chief on my way off the ferry, tell him where it was found and what I thought. I don't need five dollars, I can actually carry cash for days now so I will wait on that mythical Lotto win of MILLIONS, and hope the kid got to eat somehow.

Aside from thinking that I am dying from electronic entertainment I really don't like watching entertainment and then having to wait for the next piece of action after four to eight commercials, that is really wasting my time. Since my wife is at a Revival I will put the Blues on and read "The Chronicles of Malus Darkblade" volume one, by Dan Abnett & Mike Lee. I will be out for a bit, somewhere else where everything is falling apart, and Assault Swords are probably illegal, never mind magical. I think too often that we (the People) keep waiting on that Hero and Leader that is going to solve our problems - but Sam Adams and John Hancock weren't the folks that fought the British all the way back to Boston, they were politicians - they needed the fathers, the farmers, the craftsmen, the men without title nor honors - just steady, brave and true and they needed a lot of them. And they came forth, the real heroes are legion, the political celebrities are noted... and thanked by History.

They are stealing pages from the books in the library!

I am almost to the point that I am going to put a sign on the door "Stupid People steal pages from free books and magazines, so don't come in if you are STUPID!" but my supervisors won't allow it.

It is brought to mind because of non attribution abounds on the Internet.

From View From The Porch and the munchkin wrangler, their take on the theft of stealing from the person that did the work...

Me, I see the books with missing pages, pictures and information, books I have to remove and destroy... it probably started with school work one was too lazy to research and cite properly. Or it is just "everybody does it" and they look at you as though you are a fool because you don't do it or don't understand how easy it is to become 'Everybody'. It isn't your fault you are bad.

I do know, that when I pick up a weapon, and follow all the rules, good advice and engage a target - it doesn't help me if I tried to lift Breda's performance from her last range visit - nope, that instant of target, trigger, bullet and I - is all my fault and I had better make my Mother proud.

It's time to get up and make the doughnuts...

The alarm wakes me from a sound sleep and dreams where you were there. A dusting of an inch of snow waits to cushion the fall upon the icy driveway or not, but it sure is pretty, the tree sparkles so I open the blinds for the world to see, but only the cat's paw prints tracked the snow outside, the world will wait for my first coffee.

Y'all have a very Merry Christmas! Earl

A Soldier's Christmas Eve
Sharing Gifts at Christmas

What I See Out My Window

What I See Out My Window,
so there is the view from my Computer Cave so nice of me to share. Now to breakfast and snow shovel.

Season's Greeting from those that serve the least...

Don't slow me down, I have to catch up to ....

where I thought I should be by now. Two days of training means three days of mail to open and process, most of it will be ILLs ordered and new books and serial publications. There are patrons with information requests to fill, new reading and listening desires to express and email from above asking for my attention. Plus a meeting with the Associate in charge of Programs, the library being one of them. So I focus and attack and don't get in my way or try to distract me, I am driven. On Tuesday evening I will blow up when someone tells me that another librarian told him that she didn't have any problem getting what he wanted, I told him to tell her on Friday that I am incompetent - and if he doesn't tell her what I said -- then he will be failing to comply. I then returned to my mellow helpful self, with the next patron not trying to play me, I should have emptied the library of the ninety plus patrons with nothing to do and no where to go, but didn't. So I go home to dinner and my wife asks how it was, and I say busy, always lots to do.

I get hot soup, a salad and a nice light meal, I get to re-introduce myself to the little snow tiger trying to adopt our home as prime mouse hunting territory - that is some purr pouring out and I think about what went on at work.

One point in the two days stands out. I was at the computer ordering materials and typing as fast as I could without getting fingers out of pace and place, driven and focused. The library clerk from the chapel sticks his head inside the door and starts telling me his good news - his address and plan has been accepted and he will be getting out. He tells me all about it, and I am typing faster staying on the target, getting all the letters down in order, and he adds a bit to his story sharing his life. I stop, turn the turret of my tank and blow him out of the door. Well, not really, I looked straight at him and engaged in conversation, my goal is to have him leave and I get back to catching up with lack of progress (which isn't very fast). But the waves of joy in his face, posture and animation beat over me, this is one very happy inmate - he is going to get out. He has a job, a place to live and approval from the nameless folks that have kept him in prison so long. I share his happiness, it seems I am one of the few staff that he is taking the time to share his joy with, and having seen him on many of his darker days, this explosion of happiness is warm and powerful. He apologizes a couple of times from distracting me, bubbles happily some more, asks about my email address so he can contact me when he is out and successful - after I tell him I am in the phone book, can be located on the internet, Googled and such. He copies my whole name and goes and quietly sits the remainder of the hour out. I go back to work, trying to get faster trying to work harder - although tonight one of the inmates noticing my explosion tells me not to work so hard - I look at him and say I don't know any other way to work. I don't - I have been well broken into this pattern.

Still, the joy and warmth of that inmate and his excitement warms my memory, and I will have to, in my quieter moments, thank him for sharing that great feeling, the feeling of freedom and opportunity. You don't know what you have, until it is gone. I will have to thank him.

Pass it along... of course I will...

Christmas Poem

The embers glowed softly, and in their dim light,
I gazed round the room and I cherished the sight.
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest,
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest.
Outside the snow fell, a blanket of white,
Transforming the yard to a winter delight.

The sparkling lights in the tree I believe,
Completed the magic that was Christmas Eve.
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing was deep,
Secure and surrounded by love I would sleep.
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem,
So I slumbered, perhaps I started to dream.

The sound wasn't loud, and it wasn't too near,
But I opened my eyes when it tickled my ear.
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know, Then the
sure sound of footsteps outside in the snow.
My soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear,
And I crept to the door just to see who was near.

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night,
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight.
A soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years old,
Perhaps a Marine, huddled here in the cold.

Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled,
Standing watch over me, and my wife and my child.

"What are you doing?" I asked without fear,
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here!
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve,
You should be at home on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment I saw his eyes shift,
Away from the cold and the snow blown in drifts…

To the window that danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said, "Its really all right,
I'm out here by choice. I'm here every night.
"It's my duty to stand at the front of the line,
That separates you from the darkest of times.

No one had to ask or beg or implore me,
I'm proud to stand here like my fathers before me.
My Gramps died at 'Pearl on a day in December,"
Then he sighed, "That's a Christmas 'Gram always remembers."
My dad stood his watch in the jungles of 'Nam',
And now it is my turn and so, here I am.

I've not seen my own son in more than a while,
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.”
Then he bent and he carefully pulled from his bag,
The red, white, and blue... an American flag.
“I can live through the cold and the being alone,
Away from my family, my house and my home.

I can stand at my post through the rain and the sleet,
I can sleep in a foxhole with little to eat.
I can carry the weight of killing another,
Or lay down my life with my sister and brother..
Who stand at the front against any and all,
To ensure for all time that this flag will not fall."

"So go back inside," he said, "harbor no fright,
Your family is waiting and I'll be all right."
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least,
"Give you money," I asked, "or prepare you a feast?
It seems all too little for all that you've done,
For being away from your wife and your son."

Then his eye welled a tear that held no regret,
"Just tell us you love us, and never forget.
To fight for our rights back at home while we're gone,
To stand your own watch, no matter how long.
For when we come home, either standing or dead,
To know you remember we fought and we bled.
Is payment enough, and with that we will trust,
That we mattered to you as you mattered to us."

Written by: Michael Marks
~~~~~

Just thinking

Three weeks of three days at McNeil Island Library, all Monday Tuesday and Wednesday - then I go off the island for: two days of Thanksgiving, two days of Institutional Library Services conference and training, and two days of Instructor Boot Camp (for training Riflemen). That will drive me half-way through December and almost into January and I will have not met my goals for that year when I look back from sixty-one wondering where it went this time.

I could go back and read all my posts and figure out if I did anything, thought anything or made the world a little better. Or I can just feel I did; remembering a smile teased from someone, some quiet evenings finished with some wine and cheese, the morning jog with the dogs and the heart walkers, the walks to the dock getting my mind ready for the work day, the great rides on the Trusty Triumph and the general awesome beauty of the world, women and wonders when I open my eyes and really look. But then, how much time does one have to look back and reflect.

That was about enough, and I have exercises and jog to do, breakfast gruel with banana this morning, take the vitamins, go face the day, books to order, books to weed, reports to prepare and information to find and as the things I haven't anticipated are suddenly in my work flow keep it all moving so it doesn't get jammed up, piled up and pushed aside. I should learn to tango, since all my choir rehearsals have produced a little appreciation for the notes I should be hitting and the way melody and harmony might actually be something I will understand in a few more decades. Do I have that long?

I have made a decision, about Christmas giving this year - I, William Earl Dungey, being of sound mind and such have decided that I have too much and it has gotten in my way and I will be giving much of it away to the Food Bank, Goodwill Industries and other places where it can do more good during the coming year. And because I think something special should come from all my financial blessings I am making a cash contribution to Project Valour-IT. I know you are all going to be busy, trying to get the Economy running right again, and tying up the year with ribbons and lights, and bringing joy to children and young excited folks - I will try to make sure my family, relatives and friends are represented in a small gift for those that we have sent far away to risk and lose so much - they gave so much and can't be ignored by the promise of a Holiday Season and the New Year - they deserve to be the center of it. Make sure there is room at your table, in your heart and your life - for all those that need a touch, a hug, some of your talent and time, just a quick smile and a hot mug of cheer with the music of life. Go gently and do good stuff, we will be better for it.

Veterans Day, who and where are they...

I studied a bit of history, my mother made me - thanks, Mom! And I know that Veterans Day wasn't always such, it was Armistice Day, when the guns fell silent. The eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month and the guns fell silent. That must have been wonderful and a bit unbelievable for the trench rats and their brethren the mud slogging combatants of the Great War, a perfect peace later ruined by politicians at large elegant tables with papers and punishment and plunder on their minds, such little men.

What I knew of Veterans from my early years was that they were the stuff of legends, they were the backbone of the troop formations and armies that I read about. They were the stiffening and the perfection of deadly thrust and totally unafraid in the face of thousands. I knew about the 300, about Napoleon's Old Guard at Waterloo. All that from the stories, movies and television - boy, did I know veterans and what they were good for. Of course being a Boomer, I was living with a veteran, his Ike jacket hung in his closet with his ribbons and patches on it, there was a Japanese saber, a pistol belt and an M1 bayonet, too. I didn't understand what that meant to him, why The Gallant Men and Combat! , some of my favorite shows, didn't excite him or even entertain him. Being a high school graduate of 1966, I knew the godless Communists were waiting for me in Vietnam, although I did waste a semester in Coral Gables before I went off to become a soldier. My father did tell me that I wouldn't like it as we said good-bye.

So I had to learn to go where I was sent, do what they wanted me to do, to do it well and to understand they would punish me for my failures and foolishness. Although the foolishness was always so much fun, I did have enough pride to really work at war and becoming a soldier.

I guess that I started to consider myself a veteran by the time I was a Drill Sergeant, I had served in Korea, Germany and Vietnam, had bit unfriendly fire in Korea and Vietnam and had done just fine. My father finally talked to me a bit about his war when I came back from Vietnam - he only had Leyete and Okinawa, as a Combat Engineer and a teenager - the year he lost being nineteen. His brother was in Italy and mentioned that he was glad he hadn't earned a bronze arrowhead on his campaign ribbons, that was given to the assault forces, my father had one. Another veteran in my life, my uncle earned a commission in Italy and stayed in the Army through the early Cold War years. I thought he was too tough on his sons, but then he had four of them. My grandfather, the Methodist minister and missionary to El Cerro in Montevideo, he had served in the American forces in France in the Great War, he hadn't served in combat duties since he was a Pacifist but he did serve. He spent most of his life working for International Peace.

My mother is still pushing History at me, yesterday's email:

Remember our ancestor   Jabez
Cleveland  who died in the Battle of Bunker hill. And our other
ancestor  who fought in the Revolutionary war, as a member of the
Virginia Militia, he was an Archer (last name, don't know his first
name).In the Civil War only Don's family fought in it.

Those Civil War veterans were named Bauer,
which in German (where they came from) means farmer or peasant.  Which
gets me to my point about Veterans Day, I have a point, really.

The Veterans that really ought to be thanked, are the ones that went to
battle and came home and built a life away from the terror and turmoil
of combat, that work hard to keep their children and grandchildren from
the fear and outright terror of killing or being killed by other men
trying their best to live through it all and get home to build a
different life. Don't get me wrong, most of them have exactly the same
courage to put on the war gear and go out and face the fury again, but
they also have the discipline to build that better life, the patience
to put up with a little stupidity and discomfort for the future, and
the intelligence to want to have Peace and know when it is time to go
back to War.  And to the unknown woman with daughter and husband that
stopped to tell me that she thanked me for my service in Vietnam, me
the tough guy that couldn't break through the fragile armor that hid my
pain to say anything - I want to say Thank you for that little touch of
kindness, it has always meant so much.  A Nurse and a Marine
are veterans worth reading, but there are thousands of stories out
there, think about the Veterans and those young people in uniform
becoming Veterans as I speak.

There is good news...

I am going to work very hard on becoming an American Rifleman. I can't be a Nation of Riflemen, but I can be an American Rifleman. There are tough times ahead, I need to be able to take my rifle and ammunition and make that well aimed shot and hit the target as I called it. That kind of skill and discipline is exactly what will get me to that great life that my family has always worked for, each shot is new and exactly (if one is doing it correctly) like the last one.

Those life skills don't change either, what has made my life a success to this point are truths that I can offer to others, and have. Many may count the number of dollars to mean their success, and others count the numbers of A-list invitations and coverage by Star and People magazines, but I count the smiles of the people I love, the laughter of the children I tease in their growing up, the touching of the elders that have lived it all before me - before they go away. I count the thank you's that I can respond with "It was nothing" or "de nada" and mean it. It costs so little to be so good, but it does improve with practice.

Yes, I will work on becoming an American Rifleman, each shot a work of art, a moment in time when the man, the rifle, the bullet and the target are one - dependent and yet separate - frozen in thought, action, follow through and release - on to acquire the next target.

Raining, constantly raining, November has arrived

Not only do I have the extra hour they took from me last Spring back, but I have all the rain that I missed (lightly) during the dry Summer, and since I was motorcycling I wasn't missing it too much. The heavy drops pelt the skylight and rock on the roof, the water flows down to the gutters and down the down spout and out onto the lawn. The moss will love it, the moles will build more drainage to stay a bit dry, but the grubs and worms they feed on will like the moisture.

Hibernation begins, staying inside instead of running along the roads, my wife is much better about hitting the treadmill than I, but I can do it when I don't get distracted by what I found on the computer or the mindless mush of the television - now in HDTV - better pictures but same commercials framed by folks that don't know how I think. One day they will surprise me, but it will never get repeated. We did decide that the YMCA wasn't for us, the Air Base and Fort Lewis have the same facilities and equipment if we need them, and in the end driving somewhere to exercise only makes sense if one is going to be social at the same time - team sports or events for charity. Otherwise sweat at home, run that heart rate up and then get the hot shower and pose in front of the bedroom mirror (better not imagine that - we are Seniors far beyond foxy fifties). Although my wife did get some cute pink patterned pajamas and top to lounge around in after her workouts, I just slide on old gray sweats and a muscle shirt (muscles only in the name not on the body).

Cup number three of coffee, the mind is working. My blood pressure was good this morning, the weight excessive - stupid candy eating fool I am, should have frozen it until next Halloween, or taken it to leave at the church. Anything except gobble it down - chocolate and sugar - when it comes time to report the cause of my demise - look for the wrappers before your eyes - chocolate and sugar - no surprise. CSI will only have to find out who bought the goodies and charge them. See how boring that episode would be?

Well, nothing to write about, the darkness is waiting outside, the rain still striking the roof and I have time after devotions to exercise, breakfast, clean up and go off to work. I must pay those bills and the taxes, millions of us must pay the bills and the taxes, billions of us must pay the bills and the taxes, what was that about the hamster wheel whirling on?

For something in Support of Veterans' Day

Virtual Veteran's Day - An Open Letter To Milbloggers

I am an airborne Vietnam through Gulf War I veteran, all 27 years and five months and a day of serving the United States of America and our allies, many of which fought beside me in some bad places. I have never felt the need for Veteran's Day, but I always wanted the country to accept my service and that of all the others that wore the uniform -- and I have always felt betrayed by my countrymen and politicians for Vietnam (not the fighting there - for the laughing at us being fools enough to think we had honor and dignity - Clinton, Gore and others were so much smarter about deferments and getting out of country early - because they were smarter and better than us). Sorry about the bitterness, but it is still there and won't go away this Vet's Day. Be a better person than I, and support your service people - don't throw them away, they will give everything for your protection - everything.

Promised bail out for Institutions, I got zero...

Went to the ATM and withdrew a Yuppie Food Stamp - a twenty dollar bill and found I have a negative balance in my account - HOW DID THAT HAPPEN! I thought the government covered all the bad paper out there by printing more, I should have tons of money. I know that one has nothing to do with the other, except that the government expects me, as a working tax payer, to cover their foolishness - because they give me a vote and then force me to put up with their stupidity, sigh.

I have one thing left to do in life, get ready to leave it, nothing I will do will make crooks better, stupids smarter, or the sky bluer (lucky that isn't in the hands of me nor the Federal Government) enjoy it while you can. Pay off remaining bills, consolidate our retirement savings in anything except Government bonds and financial institutions, enjoy free stuff with my wife and the love of my life (good that they are the same person). Simple goals for simple old man, hope it works out.

Final Political Pronouncement... of this season

In Happy Harmony -
still clingin' to God,
my Gal and my Guns!

Dis-jarred from "Just the Library Keeper"

Seems like a conspiracy to me, or the inmate patrons on McNeil Island. Last Tuesday was the last day the library was open for business, I closed and left for: Wednesday, working on ILS blog and the State Library Picnic/Barbecue did move the mail at McNeil, Thursday & Friday ILS Conference, where I learned a lot, failed to bring the assigned review and training sheets for The World Factbook, 2008, which I think is a great reference but too costly for the home - lucky there are links. One of the best things produced by the Central Intelligence Agency, I once loved to read their Country Studies.

There were new assignments given, new policies laid out (daily updating of registered users - seems I am always behind when the program manager needs the exact numbers), WALE Conference rehearsal in front of our choir, so we could get some timing worked out and content and I have to go back and rewrite and edit a bit, and piles of plunder to bring back in my backpack on my motorcycle, if it fit. Bookbag for Brisingr with a DragonArt Mythical Monsters is my Window Prize and I should have bought a Lotto ticket, was my lucky day. When we went to talk about processing ILL requests and other things we shared so much knowledge that would speed up operations it was amazing. I always seem to have to invent a way that the programmers put there, but no one told me about. So I have training to take back to McNeil Island to share with my inmate library clerks, I have some new materials to add to the collection, I have several things to do to improve me and my performance and there will be several things that I will forget and the meeting minutes won't be around for a bit to remind me.

So, quiet weekend with my wife, and I am going to the County Courthouse for my Jury Duty. I will not worry about the three days worth of mail, I will not think about the totally stuffed book return boxes, I will not think that my workers will do something wrong and get fired, I will not be sure that all my performance secrets and stash will be discovered by my supervisor during the four days she scheduled to cover my absence of ten days (maybe more maybe less). I only need to bit concerned about my wife, but I prayed on that and it will be.

work email today........ a ripple rebounds...

Question: You look like a Drill Sergeant Dungey I knew at Fort Sill, Oklahoma in the summer of 1977, are you the same person? He was the best drill sergeant in A Battery, 2nd Training BN.

Reply: BIO LINK I don't know about best Drill Sergeant, I only won the Drill Sergeant of the Cycle once. But I did like that job.

Questioner: I was just a trainee then with the third platoon, across the street from your first platoon. Just wanted to let you know, you were a great inspiration to me and many of my fellow trainees back then. I remember how you took your platoon out on very long runs in the morning and then ran again with many of them in the evening. You were a great example and when I later became a Sergeant with the Third Armored Division in Germany, you were one of the role models I tried to model myself after. Just wanted to say thanks.

You should think about applying to be a Community Corrections Officer in the field or even a weapons instructor, you are extremely qualified for both positions.

Reply: I really did like that job, glad I worked for you. I am so old, but would love to be a weapons instructor, but there are a few others around, Library Keepers are in shorter supply.

I really did like that job, Drill Sergeant Oliver - future Houston Policeman, drag racer and Deputy Sheriff and my friend.