Christmas at Rock-Away-Rest

The Holidays are Here! Capture the Magic!

                      Twas the night before Christmas at Rock-Away-Rest,

                      and all of us seniors were looking our best:

                      Our glasses, how sparkly, our wrinkles, how merry;

                      our punchbowl held prune juice plus three drops of sherry.

                      A bedsock was taped to each walker, in hope

                     that Santa would bring us soft candy and soap.

                     We surely were lucky to be there with friends.

                     Secure in this residence and in our Depends.

                     Our grandkids had sent us some Christmasy crafts:

                     like angels in snowsuits and penguins on rafts.

                     The dental assistant had borrowed our teeth,

                     and from them she'd crafted a holiday wreath.

                     The bed pans, so shiny all stood in a row,

                     reflecting our candle's magnificent glow.

                     Our supper so festive...the joy wouldn't stop...

                     was creamy warm oatmeal with sprinkles on top.

                     Our salad was Jell-o, so jiggly and great,

                     then puree of fruit cake was spooned on each plate.

                     The social director then had us play games,

                     like “Where Are You Living?” and “What Are Your Names?”

                     Old Grandfather Looper was feeling his oats,

                     proclaiming that reindeer were nothing but goats.

                     Our resident wand'rer was tied to a chair

                     in hopes that at bedtime she still would be there.

                     Security lights on the new fallen snow

                     made outdoors seem noon to the old folks below.

                     Then out on the porch, there arose quite a clatter

                     (But we are so deaf that it just didn't matter!)

                     A strange little fellow flew in through the door,

                     then tripped on the sill and fell flat on the floor:

                     Twas just our director, all togged out in red.

                     He jiggled and chuckled and patted his head.

                     We knew from the way he strutted and jived

                     our social-security cheques had arrived.

                     We sand...now we how we sang...in our monotone croak

                     till the clock tinkled out its soft eight p.m. Stroke.

                     And soon we were snuggling deep in our beds,

                     while nurses distributed nocturnal meds.

                     And so ends our Christmas at Rock-Away-Rest.

                     Before long, you'll be with us...we wish you the best.

Christmas Philosophy...Be Nice To Your Kids.
They'll Choose ... Your Nursing Home.

(Thank you Sydney, for this delightful  story.)

Comment:  This is not intended to be humourous

(as we may be there, one day).

Merle Baird-Kerr . . . written December 7, 2011

 Responses welcome...scroll below...may enter as “anonymous”

or...inezkate@gmail.com

Business Humour II

Dead Horse Theory

The tribal wisdom of the Dakota Indians

passed on from generation to generation says that

“When you discover that you are riding a dead horse,

the best strategy is to dismount.”

However, in government, education, and in corporate America

more advanced strategies are often employed...such as:

Buy a stronger whip.

Changing riders.

Appointing a committee to study the horse.

Arranging to visit other countries to see how other cultures ride dead horses.

Lowering the standards so that dead horses can be included.

Reclassifying the dead horse as living-impaired.

Hiring outside contractors to ride the dead horse.

Harnessing several dead horses together to increase speed.

Providing additional funding and/or training 

to increase dead horse's performance.

Doing a productivity study to see if lighter riders would improve

the dead horse's performance.

Declaring that, as the dead horse does not have to be fed, it is less costly,

carries lower overhead and therefore contributes substantially more

to the bottom line of the economy than do other horses.

Rewriting the expected performance requirements for all horses

and of course...

Promoting the dead horse to a supervisory position!

Finkelstein and Jesus

Jesus was wandering around Jerusalem when he decided that he really needed a new robe. After looking around for a while, he saw a sign for Finkelstein, the Tailor.

So he went in and made the necessary arrangements to have Finkelstein prepare a new robe for him. A few days later, when the robe was finished, Jesus tried it on ... and it was a perfect fit! He asked how much he owed.

Finkelstein brushed him off: “No, no, no ...for the Son of God, there's no charge!” However may I ask a small favour? Whenever you give a sermon, perhaps you could just mention that your nice new robe was made by Finkelstein, the Tailor?”

Jesus readily agreed and as promised, extolled the virtues of his Finkelstein robe whenever he spoke to the masses.

A few months later, while Jesus was again walking through Jerusalem, he happened to walk past Finkelstein's shop and noted a huge line of people waiting for Finkelstein's robes.

He pushed his way through the crowd to speak to him and as soon as Finkelstein spotted him, he said, “Jesus, Jesus! Look what you've done
for my business!”

                   “Would you consider a partnership?” he asked.

                   “Certainly,” replied Jesus, “Jesus & Finkelstein, it is.”

                   “Oh, no, no,” said Finkelstein, “Finkelstein and Jesus.

                     After all, I am the craftsman.”

The two of them debated this for some time. Their discussion was long and spirited, but ultimately fruitful ... and they finally came up with a mutually acceptable compromise. 

A few days later, the new sign went up over Finkelstein's shop: Lord and Tailor

(I am grateful to Sol for forwarding “Theory”... “Finkelstein and Jesus”...to me)

Merle Baird-Kerr . . . written October 12, 2011

I enjoy all comments ... scroll below

or e-mail ... inezkate@gmail.com

Gift ~ Golden Wrapped

Some time ago, a man punished his 5-year old daughter, Lisa, for wasting a roll of expensive gold wrapping paper.  Money was tight and he became even more upset when the child used the gold paper to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, Lisa brought the gift box to her father the next morning and said,
“This is for you, Daddy.”  The father was embarrassed by his earlier reaction,
but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He spoke to her in a harsh manner.  “Don't you know, young lady,
when you give someone a present,

there's supposed to be something  inside the box?”

Lisa looked up at her father and said, “Oh, Daddy, it's not empty.
I blew kisses  into it until it was full!”

The father was crushed.  He fell on his knees and put his arms around his little girl, Lisa and he begged her to forgive him for  his unnecessary  anger.

An accident took the life of the child only a short time later and it is told that the father kept that gold box by his bed for all the years of his life.  And whenever he was discouraged or faced difficult problems, he would open the box and take out an imaginary kiss  and remember the love of his child, Lisa, who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each of us as human beings have been given a golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and God.  There is no more precious possession...anyone could hold. 

                     How Golden was this Gift...when Daddy Understood!!!

 Moral: Apologizing does not mean
that you are wrong and the other person is right ...
It simply means that you value the relationship
much more than your ego.

Life is Too Short to Waste!
Do not wait for the perfect time!

Whatever you want to do, do it now.
There are only so many tomorrows!

Merle Baird-Kerr . . . written November 5, 2011
(Thank you , Pary, for sending the forgoing  story)

I appreciate your comments ... scroll down (may sign in as “anonymous”)
or ... inezkate@gmail.com

Christmas Poem ... Make a Difference!

                  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 trees, 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 slumbered I, 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 Trooper, 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 our 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, 
                 he sighed and he said “It's 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 in Europe on a day in December.”

                 Then he sighed.

                 “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 and the white ... a Canadian 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, “harbour 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.”

Christmas will be coming soon  ...
and credit is due to our Canadian service men and women 
for us being able to celebrate these festivities.
Kindly forward this to as many people as you can.
Let's try in this small way to pay respect and honour to what we owe.

Make people stop ... and think of our heroes...living ...

and those who are not ... who sacrificed themselves for us.

(The foregoing ... with grateful thanks to a Bridge acquaintance)

Merle Baird-Kerr . . . written December 7, 2011

Comments appreciated ... scroll down (may sign in as “anonymous”)

or ... inezkate@gmail.com

The Evergreen

(Dear Readers: In November 2010, I sent a small pre-Christmas gift to an American friend who loves this corner of Southern Ontario...bounded by lake, bay, escarpment and trees. The following accompanied this little tree as it travelled to an eastern New England state.)

A few days ago, I received a package of seasonal cards..depicting Christmas 

and Winter Scenes. One card was so impressive with its snowy vista...

very sparkling ...with a wooden bridge!

What can be more beautiful than snow on the Evergreens?

You love the woodlands in your fair state.

You love the forests in my homeland

with rocks and rivers, valleys and plains.

It is The Tree that breathes them Life!

Has homage ever been paid to The Tree?

In Genesis, Chapter 2 and Verse 15

of the Bible, we read,

“And out of the ground...the Lord God

made every tree grow

that's pleasant to the sight and good for food.”

In the midst of the Garden was the Tree of Life,

also the Tree of Evil and Good.

Conclusively ... considering Benefits Gained,

the results ensuing, can Positive be!

Yes, we have Arbour Day and Wilderness plantings.

We have the Maple, the Evergreens and Cherry.

It is Christmas when we focus the Tree.

The spruce, I am told, whether blue or white,

has swaying full branches and slender twigs

which hold the ornaments well.

The foliage so dense, symmetrically proportioned

make it the choice for Christmas-fest,

inviting the hands of child and teen

to adorn it for family and home.

I send you this miniature spruce

for the month of December and all winter’s magic.

A view through windows of frost and a ride thro' the snow

will paint you a picture of crystals that sparkle

and long tapered icicles that from the roof hang.

Enjoy this Gift to hang on your door.

Just battery load it and click on the switch.

The lights will twinkle with warm season's greetings.

"May the spirit of Christmas and the Magic of Winter

forever dwell ... in your Heart...in your Soul."

Merle Baird-Kerr . . . written November 6, 2010

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or ... inezkate@gmail.com

Business Humour I

The Goldberg Brothers versus Anti-Semite Henry Ford

“The Inventors of the Automobile Air Conditioner”

Here's a little factoid for automobile buffs or just to dazzle your friends.

The four Goldberg brothers, Lowell, Norman, Hiram and Max

invented and developed the first automobile air-conditioner.

On July 17, 1946, the temperature in Detroit was 97 degrees.

The four brothers walked into old man Ford's office and sweet-talked 

his secretary into telling him that four gentlemen were there 

with the most exciting innovation in the auto industry 

since the electric starter.

Henry was curious and invited them into his office. They refused

and instead, asked him that he come to the parking lot to their car.

They persuaded him to get into the car, which was about 110 degrees,

turned on the air conditioner...and cooled the car immediately.

The old man got very excited and invited them back to the office,

where he offered them $3,000,000 for the patent.

The brothers refused, saying they would settle for $2,000,000

but they wanted the recognition by having a label, 

“The Goldberg Air Conditioner”

on the dashboard of each car in which it was installed.

Now, old man Ford was more than just a little anti-Semitic
and there was no way

he was going to put the Goldberg's name on two million Fords.

They haggled back and forth for about two hours and finally agreed on

$4,000,000 and that just their first names would be shown.

And so to this day, all Ford air conditioners show ~

Lo, Norm, Hi and Max

on the controls.

(Thanks to my son,  who forwarded the above to me)

Research states that actually in 1937 when the Cohen brothers

(Hyman, Max and Norman) visited Henry Ford,

he refused to have Jewish names on his car manufacturing.

The Corporate Structure

Chairman of the Board: Leaps tall buildings in a single bound;

Is more powerful than a locomotive;

Is faster than a speeding bullet;

Walks on water, and

Gives policy to GOD!

President: Leaps short buildings in a single bound;

Is more powerful than a switch engine;

Is just as fast as a speeding bullet;

Walks on water if the sea is calm;

Talks with GOD!

Senior Vice President: Leaps short buildings with a running jump

AND favourable winds;

Is almost as powerful as a switch engine;

Is faster than a speeding BB;

Walks on water in an indoor swimming pool;

Talks with GOD if special request is approved.

Vice President: Barely clears a quonset hut;

Loses tug-of-war with a locomotive;

Can fire a speeding bullet;

Swims well;

Is occasionally addressed by GOD!

Assistant Vice President: Makes high marks on the wall when trying

to leap small buildings;

Is run over by a locomotive;

Can sometimes handle a gun without

inflicting self-injury;

Dog paddles;

Talks to animals!

Secretary: Lifts buildings and walks under them;

Kicks locomotives off the track;

Catches speeding bullets in her teeth

And Eats Them;

Freezes water with a single glance;

SHE is GOD!

Merle Baird-Kerr . . . written October 10, 2011

Comments always appreciated...

scroll down (may sign in as “anonymous”)

or...inez-kate@gmail.com

December Perspective

“As the World Turns”, a long-time daily television soap opera, rekindles my Kaleidoscope of Life blog theme. Each turn of it creates a new scene, a new composition and the desire to view more of this “magic in our hands”!
Life to us is not always beautiful! With every “turn of the road” we meet a new experience. Daily, weekly, monthly, yearly our goals and values change. Circumstances affect us either positively or negatively...portending good omens or stumbling blocks for us to appreciate and enjoy...or...somehow manage to solve. 

“Here today, gone tomorrow” is not only a cliche: a change of regulations,

a change of policy, a change of viewpoint...all affect us. We are then at a“crossroad of decision” which challenges our thinking...

do we accept? reject ? or remain unconcerned?

My thanks to Glen who forwarded this message...so astute and profound! 

He writes, “This is a worth while read and there is a part that most of us 

has heard before but this is a thought process that we shouldn't ignore; let's really wake up and honestly smell what God has given us...the Roses!!!”

Apparently the White House referred to Christmas Trees as Holiday Trees

for the first time this year which prompted CBS presenter, Ben Stein

to present this piece which I would like to share with you.

I think it applies just as much to many countries as it does...to America.

The following was written by Ben Stein and spoken by him

on CBS Sunday Morning Commentary.

My Confession:

I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call those beautiful trees...Christmas Trees. I don't feel threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are ... Christmas Trees.

It doesn't bother me a bit when people say, “Merry Christmas” to me. 

I don't think they are slighting me or getting ready to put me in a ghetto. 

In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It doesn't bother me at all, that there is a manger scene on display at a key intersection near my beach house in Malibu. If people want 

a creche, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few hundred yards away.

I don't like getting pushed around for being a Jew, and I don't think Christians 

like getting pushed around for being Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of getting pushed around, period! I have no idea where the concept came from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it 

in the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.

Or maybe, I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we 

should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God? I guess

that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who wonder 

where these celebrities came from and where the America we knew, went to.

In light of the many jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different. This is not intended to be a joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her, “How could God let something like this happen?” (regarding Hurricane Katrina). Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said, “I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, 

but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives. And being the gentleman He is, 

I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us

His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?”

In light of recent events...terrorist attacks, school shootings, etc. I think it

started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found 

a few years ago) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, 

and we said...OK. 

Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says,

”Thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal and love your neighbour as yourself. 

And we said...OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem.  (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). 

We said an expert should know what he's talking about.

And we said...OK.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, 

why they don't know right from wrong and why it doesn't bother them 

to kill strangers, their classmates and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. 

I think it has a great deal to do with “WE REAP WHAT WE SOW”

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why 

the world's going to hell.

Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.

Funny how you can send “jokes” through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, 

but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing yet?

Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many 

on your address list because you're not sure what they believe or what 

they will think of you for sending it. 

Funny how we can be more worried  about what other people think of us 

than what God thinks of us. 

Pass it on if you think it has merit.

If not, then just discard it...no one will know you did. But if you discard this thought process, don't complain about what bad shape the world is in.

My Best Regards,

Honestly and Respectfully,

Ben Stein

..................................................................

Strongly I endorse Glen's concluding words ...

“Remember this week to Smile at a Stranger.

Help Someone you don't Know.

When you answer your cell, Smile Before Saying Hello...

(others can hear a smile on your face).

Love and prayers to all of you always.”

Merle Baird-Kerr . . . written November 26, 2011

Comments are appreciated ... scroll down (sign in as “anonymous”)

or e-mail ... inezkate@gmail.com

Of Interest: This is one of four writings about December and Christmas

which I am posting this month for your reading enjoyment.