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WHEN I AM AN OLD CAT When I am an old cat, I shall wear purple hair with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me. I shall spend my pension on catnip and rhinestone collars and velvet pillows, and say we've no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells and run my claw along the public railings and thus make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in the rain and munch the flowers in other people's gardens and learn to spit. You can wear terrible collars and grow more fat and eat three pounds of sausages at a go or only bread and bugs for a week, and hoard dead mice and lint fluff and bits of string and things in boxes. But now we must have collars that keep us dignified and pay our dues and not poop in the street and set a good example for the children. We must have furrends to dinner and lay on the mewspapers. But maybe I ought to practice a little now? So cats who know me are not too shocked and surprised When suddenly I am an old cat, and start to wear purple hair.

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WHEN I AM OLD

When I am old... I will wear soft gray sweatshirts... and a bandana over my silver hair... and I will spend my social security checks on wine and my dogs. I will sit in my house on my well-worn chair and listen to my dogs breathing. I will sneak out in the middle of a warm summer night and take my dogs for a run, if my old bones will allow... When people come to call, I will smile and nod as I show them my dogs... and talk of them and about them... ...the ones so beloved of the past and the ones so beloved of today... I will still work hard cleaning after them, mopping and feeding them and whispering their names in a soft loving way. I will wear the gleaming sweat on my throat, like a jewel, and I will be an embarrassment to all... especially my family... who have not yet found the peace in being free to have dogs as your best friends... These friends who always wait, at any hour, for your footfall... and eagerly jump to their feet out of a sound sleep, to greet you as if you are a God, with warm eyes full of adoring love and hope that you will always stay, I'll hug their big strong necks... I'll kiss their dear sweet heads... and whisper in their very special company.... I look in the mirror... and see I am getting old.... this is the kind of person I am... and have always been. Loving dogs is easy, they are part of me. Please accept me for who I am. My dogs appreciate my presence in their lives... they love my presence in their lives... When I am old this will be important to me... you will understand when you are old, if you have dogs to love too. -- author unknown

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In kindergarten your idea of a good friend was the person who let you have the red crayon when all that was left was the ugly black one. In first grade your idea of a good friend was the person who went to the bathroom with you and held your hand as you walked through the scary halls. In second grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you stand up to the class bully. In third grade your idea of a good friend was the person who shared their lunch when you forgot yours on the bus. In fourth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who was willing to switch square dancing partners in gym so you wouldn't have to be stuck o-si-do-ing with Nasty Nick or Smelly Susan. In fifth grade your idea of a friend was the person who saved a seat on the back of the bus for you. In sixth grade your idea of a friend was the person who went up to Nick or Susan, your new crush, and asked them to dance with you, so that if they said no you wouldn't have to be embarrassed. In seventh grade your idea of a friend was the person who let you copy their social studies homework from the night before that you had. In eighth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pack up your stuffed animals and old baseball but didn't laugh at you when you finished and broke out into tears. In ninth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who would go to a party thrown by a senior so you wouldn't wind up being the only freshman there. In tenth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who changed their schedule so you would have someone to sit with at lunch. In eleventh grade your idea of a good friend was the person who gave you rides in their new car, convinced your parents that you shouldn't be grounded, consoled you when you broke up with Nick [or Glenn] or Susan, and found you a date to the prom. In twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pick out a college or university, assured you that you would get into that college/university, helped you deal with your parents who were having a hard time adjusting to the idea of letting you go... At graduation your idea of a good friend was the person who was crying on the inside but managed the biggest smile one could give as they congratulated you. The summer after twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you clean up the bottles from that party, helped you sneak out of the house when you just couldn't deal with your parents, assured you that now that you and Nick or you and Susan were back together, you could make it through anything, helped you pack up for university and just silently hugged you as you looked through blurry eyes at 18 years of memories you were leaving behind, and finally on those last days of childhood, went out of their way to give you reassurance that you would make it in college as well as you had these past 18 years, and most importantly sent you off to college knowing you were loved. Now, your idea of a good friend is still the person who gives you the better of the two choices, holds your hand when you're scared, helps you fight off those who try to take advantage of you, thinks of you at times when you are not there, reminds you of what you have forgotten, helps you put the past behind you but understands when you need to hold on to it a little longer, stays with you so that you have confidence, goes out of their way to make time for you, helps you clear up your mistakes, helps you deal with pressure from others, smiles for you when they are sad, helps you become a better person, and most importantly loves you! There's never a wrong time to pick up a phone or send a message telling your friends how much you miss them or how much you love them. Author Unknown

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A Different Type of Prayer Heavenly Father, Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night is a single mother who worked nine hours that day and was rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children. Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly is a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester. Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job!) is a slave to addictions that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares. Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress are savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together. Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love. It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not just to those who are close to us but also to all humanity. Let us be slow to judgment and quick to forgiveness and patience and empathy and love. In Jesus' Precious Name, AMEN! (Starhawk)

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Some days I wore blue along with green clothe that made me feel cool like I had never been skirts in lavender and shirts in yellow two colors that seemed to soothe me and made me feel mellow frou frou with rhinestone buttons and lace and shoes with high heels I wore on warm summer days But lately my taste in fashion is less demanding, as long as it’s comfy and I know I’m still standing so now my favorite things to wear I must truly confess is a gorgeous red hat and a purple dress Written By: Gabriele M.Diaz Aloha Nui...Lady Hatterly Bodacious Queen Belle Gabriele FQM Red Hot Lava Ladies Go With The Flow Volcano, Hawaii

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English, Asylum for the Verbally Insane We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes, but the plural of ox became oxen not oxes. One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese, yet the plural of moose should never be meese. You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice, yet the plural of house is houses, not hice. If the plural of man is always called men, why shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen? If I spoke of my foot and show you my feet, and I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet? If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth, why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth? Then one may be that, and three would be those, yet hat in the plural would never be hose, and the plural of cat is cats, not cose. We speak of a brother and also of brethren, but though we say mother, we never say methren. Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him, but imagine the feminine, she, shis and shim. Let's face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren't invented in England. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham? Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it? If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? We ship by truck but send cargo by ship. We have noses that run and feet that smell. And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out, and in which an alarm goes off by going on. So if Dad is Pop, how come Mom isn't Mop? Author Unknown

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A friend hears the song in my heart and sings it to me when my memory fails.

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HOW TO STAY YOUNG (George Carlin) 1. Throw out nonessential numbers. This includes age, weight and height. Let the doctor worry about them. That is why you pay him/her. 2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down. 3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. " An idle mind is the devil's workshop." And the devil's name is Alzheimer's. 4. Enjoy the simple things. 5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath. 6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person who is with us our entire life, is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive. 7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it's family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge. 8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help. 9. Don't take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, to the next county, to a foreign country, but NOT to where the guilt is. 10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. AND ALWAYS REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

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Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us. Value your friendships.

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I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly

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Arabian Proverb - A friend is one to whom One may pour out The Contents of ones heart, Chaff and grain together, Knowing that the gentlest of hands Will take it and sift it, Keep what is worth keeping, And with the breath of kindness Blow the rest away.

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IF I KNEW If I knew it would be the last time That I'd see you fall asleep, I would tuck you in more tightly and pray the Lord, your soul to keep. If I knew it would be the last time that I see you walk out the door, I would give you a hug and kiss and call you back for one more. If I knew it would be the last time I'd hear your voice lifted up in praise, I would video tape each action and word, so I could play them back day after day. If I knew it would be the last time, I could spare an extra minute to stop and say "I love you," instead of assuming you would KNOW I do. If I knew it would be the last time I would be there to share your day, Well I'm sure you'll have so many more, so I can let just this one slip away. For surely there's always tomorrow to make up for an oversight, and we always get a second chance to make everything just right. There will always be another day to say "I love you," And certainly there's another chance to say our "Anything I can do?" But just in case I might be wrong, and today is all I get, I'd like to say how much I love you and I hope we never forget. Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old alike, And today may be the last chance you get to hold your loved one tight. So if you're waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today? For if tomorrow never comes, you'll surely regret the day, That you didn't take that extra time for a smile, a hug, or a kiss and you were too busy to grant someone, what turned out to be their one last wish. So hold your loved ones close today, and whisper in their ear, Tell them how much you love them and that you'll always hold them dear Take time to say "I'm sorry," "Please forgive me," "Thank you," or "It's okay." And if tomorrow never comes, you'll have no regrets about today.

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An Irish Prayer: May God grant you always... A sunbeam to warm you, A moonbeam to charm you, A sheltering angel So nothing Can harm you ...

An Old Irish Curse: May those that love us love us; and those that don’t love us, May God turn their hearts; if he can’t turn their hearts, may he turn their ankles so we’ll know them by their limping.

Old Irish Blessing: May the road rise to meet you May the wind always be at your back May the sun shine warm upon your face And the rain falls soft upon your fields And until we meet again May God hold you In the palm of his hand

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That's Not My Job- This is a story told about four people named, Somebody, Everybody, Anybody and Nobody. There was one important job to be done. Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it, but Nobody did it. Somebody got angry about it because it was Everybody's job. Everybody thought Anybody could do it. Nobody realized that Everybody wouldn't do it. It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.

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