This Time It Really Is Wednesday

All day yesterday, it felt like a Wednesday to me.  I woke up this morning feeling like I'd gotten a do-over.  I actually felt pretty good today.  I finally broke down and threw another blanket on the bed last night, and what do you know?  I slept almost all night.  I only woke up once, at 4:30, because my internal clock still thinks it is 5:30.

It's amazing what a difference a good night's sleep makes.  I hardly ever get those any more.  It's gotten so bad, I've seriously thought about going to my doctor and getting a prescription.  The only thing is, most of them say that they cause next day drowsiness.  Well, what good are they then?

If I'm not groggy all day from lack of sleep, I'll be groggy from drugs, so what's the point? 

I really wanted to post a gorgeous photo of our fall colors today, but well, we haven't had any this year.  It's been so dry that the leaves have pretty much just gone straight to brown.  I was looking through old photos to see if I had one to post, and came across this one:

I took this one a couple of years ago out at the lake.  I don't know what it is, but this photo just appeals to me.  Maybe it's the splash of blue in all the greens and browns.  But whatever, I like it.

After watching Jason Garrett's first two interviews as head coach of the Dallas Cowboys, I'm starting to feel a little more hope.  He was no-nonsense and to the point.  And in giving his interviews, there was an authority to his voice and manner that wasn't there before.  I don't know how he'll coach (and face it, none of US really do know what goes on behind the scenes), but I do know that, unlike Wade, at least he's not going to let the media buffalo him.

One more thing, Happy Birthday to the Mad Hatter, Les Miles. 

Geaux Tigers!

This Time Change

is killing me!

Seems the older I get, the harder it is to adjust. 

However, you will be happy to know that I have not yet killed my little bulby things.

And the buds on the Christmas Cactus are getting bigger.

On the other hand, you might be stunned to know that I did not knit a single stitch for two days. After knitting worsted weight cotton on size 6 needles, my forearms just needed a break. This afternoon, I did pick back up one of the Fun Fur charity scarves and knit a few rows on it, but that's all I've done since finishing the washcloth on Saturday.

I was stunned yesterday to find that Jerry Jones had fired Wade Phillips.  Stunned, because I don't believe Wade was the problem.  He didn't suddenly forget how to coach since winning the division championship (for the second time in three years at that) last season.  He was part of the problem, but the dysfunction in this team ran far deeper than any one man.  But it's always the head coach that gets the axe. 

Of course, all the Madden playing morons are dancing in the street at this news, but they're --well--morons.  Most of them want the Cowboys to pick up Jon Gruden as the new head coach, but then, you have to ask yourself, if Jon Gruden is so good, why isn't he coaching anywhere now?  You'd think if he were so good, he'd already have a head coaching job.  Yeah, he did win a Super Bowl, with the team Tony Dungy built, but he hasn't done squat since.

Another name that is being bandied about is that of Bill Cowher.  Yet, you could ask almost the same question about him.  He retired.  You'd think if he wanted to return to coaching, he'd already be out there.  Lord knows there are some teams that desperately need a good head coach, and not just the Cowboys.  Same goes for Tony Dungy--oh, wait, he couldn't possibly be a good head coach because he doesn't get in player's faces and scream at them during the games.  Isn't that what makes a good head coach?  Pitching fits on the sidelines?  Isn't that right, all you Madden playing morons?  That's what you said about Wade.  That he wasn't a good head coach because he didn't publicly demean and humiliate grown men.  Come to think of it, Tom Landry didn't either, so he must not have been as good a coach as we remember him to be. 

In the meantime, it'll be Jason Garrett piloting the ship, but don't expect any miraculous turnaround.  It wasn't like his offense was exactly lighting anybody up either.  He couldn't fix the running game, so how is he going to fix the entire team? 

I suspect that in a few weeks, or months, we'll all be looking back and remembering the "good ol' days" under Wade, when the team won two division championships and their first playoff game in over a decade. 

And that's something even the all hallowed Bill Parcells couldn't do.

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Random

well, just stuff. Not much thought in this post. I sure wish this dog of mine understood the concept of sleeping in!  So all you're getting today is a few photos with brief captions.

OK, and awayyyy we go...

1.  Washcloth, knit in Peaches and Creme worsted weight cotton, in the color Yorktown. 

Knitting it on the smaller needles made a nice, thick, squishy cloth, but it sure was hard on my forearms.

2.  Cherry cordial kisses.  Nuff said.

3.  I got my little bulbs repotted.  They'll be fine from  here on out.

4.  This sure was a nice treat this morning.

5.  Because I woke up to this:

The first frost of the year.  I'm so glad it happened on a day that I didn't have to go anywhere!

6.  Saturday Sky, with one of the few trees that has lost all its leaves already.

7.  Walnuts, good for your heart.  Good for your HDL levels.  Just good.

Speaking of good, you can't deny the LSU Tigers that moniker any more.  They knocked off the defending national champion Alabama 24-21, ending any hope of a repeat title. 

Say what you want about Les Miles.  Say what you want about Jordan Jefferson, or Jarrett Lee, but they are 8-1. 

And you can't argue with that.

What We Believe

What with the elections this week and all, and the focus on the Tea Party, and their candidates, it occurred to me that if you only listen to the MSM, you might not know what the Tea Party really is, or what they believe.

The Original Boston Tea Party was held on December 16, 1773 and was essentially an objection to increased British taxation without representation. Oh, there's more to it than that, but I'm not going to go into all the nuances and details right now. The modern Tea Party movement can be traced to a remark made by CNBC's Rick Santelli in February 2009 in which he said he wanted to have a Chicago Tea Party. Despite what the ultra leftists might want to tell you, it has nothing to do with race, or gender, or political party, or class warfare. It's all about out of control spending, an ever increasing government footprint, and oppressive tax burdens that Americans are increasingly facing.

Also, despite what the ultra leftists will tell you, the Tea Party movement encompasses people of all races, income levels, genders, and yes, even Democrats.  I realize that there are those out there so mired in their own hatred and bitterness that they will never open their minds enough to see anything other than their own narrow view of the world, but I hope that you, Gentle Reader, are not one of those.

This is part 1 of a series of videos that will help explain what the modern day Tea Party movement is all about.



Feel free to discuss this video at length, but remember two things:

1. Obscene language will not be tolerated.
2. Neither will name calling or personal attacks

If you have to resort to these two tactics, then you have already lost the debate. Thank you for playing. Please return all seat backs and tray tables to their fully upright position, and walk, don't run, to the nearest exit.

There will be other videos in this series.

And no, I don't particularly like Bill's new hair style. But I will defend to the death his right to wear it that way.

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We True Blue

For the first time in my life, I am ashamed.

Yes, for the first time in my life, I am ashamed to be a Dallas Cowboy fan.

Well, you ought to be ashamed!  They're nothing to be proud of.  They're 1-6.  They're terrible.  They suck!

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.  You've got it all wrong.  I am not ashamed of my team.  I will never be ashamed of my team, no matter whether they finish 13-3 and win a Super Bowl, or finish 1-15, or even 0-11-1.  Good teams become bad teams become good teams again in time.  That's just the way of it in the NFL.  In any sport, for that matter.  I will never be ashamed of my team just because they are losing. 

What I am ashamed of is the behavior of so many of the so-called Cowboys fans out there.

I see the comments, I read the posts, on Facebook, on blogs, on articles.  Fans saying they are disgusted with this team.  (Even worse are the one who claim to be "discusded with there team").  Seriously?  Disgusted?  That's a mighty strong word, just because they've lost a few games.

Now,  if one of the players had raped a couple of women, or bankrolled a dog fighting ring, or texted photos of his genitalia, or shot someone--that would be disgusting.  But losing a few games?  No.

Disappointing, yes.  Disgusting, hardly. 

Then we have the ones who say things like, "I'm just going to go root for the Steelers (or any other team).  When the Cowboys start winning again, I'll root for them."  This is the worst of the worst.  The lowest of the low.  Bandwagon fans, blowing whichever way the wind goes, following whichever team wins most.  Faithful to none.  Lukewarm.  You make true fans want to vomit. 

This kind of stuff is bad enough, but what really makes me ashamed is the behavior of my fellow fans at the ball games.  Do you realize what a privilege it is to be able to attend a Cowboys game in person?  So many of us have never had that opportunity, and yet you want to sit there with bags over your heads, as if you are embarrassed to be seen there.  Look, if you're so down on this team that you don't even want to show your face, well, I'll e-mail you my address and you can send your tickets to me.  I'll be happy to go in your place, and I will cheer my Cowboys, win or lose.  And there's no way I'd ever walk out halfway through a game.

OK, maybe if I were having a heart attack, or bleeding to death.  Yeah, maybe I'd leave then.  Maybe.  But I will sit there through every last second of a game otherwise-- even if it is a 44-6 drubbing at the hands of their biggest rival.  

How much lower can you go?  You think they don't see you turning your backs on them like that?  Talk about kicking a team when they're down. Have we become so low that we should walk out on the team?  Have we become so low that we should boo our own quarterback?

Have we become so low that we should boo this very same Jon Kitna that just a year ago, so many of you wanted to bench Romo for?  And now you boo him?  What's next?  Cheering when an opposing player lays crumpled on the field with a broken neck?  You think you would never stoop so low, but you're just one step above that now.

Booing.  Bah.

And the "Let's go Rangers" chants ringing throughout Cowboys stadium.  That was the lowest of the low.  Beyond reprehensible.  And you have the nerve to wonder why they seem to have no enthusiasm.  No heart.  How can they, when the very ones they are playing for keep slapping them in the face like that?

By the way, the Rangers lost.  They didn't just lose, they got trounced.  But I'm still waiting on the photo of Nolan Ryan and Ron Washington labeled "Dumb and Dumber".  Haven't seen one yet. Not holding my breath, either.

Now, I know fans are disappointed in the way the season is going.  I am, too.  I'd much rather see them at 6-1 than where they are now.  But this is the crass and classless behavior I would expect out of Philadelphia Eagles fans.  But we --we are better than that.  We are Dallas Cowboys fans.

Yes, these are the times that try fan's souls.  The summer fan and the sunshine supporter will quickly fall away.  But we must remain loyal to our team.  We must persevere.

We lifelong fans.

We faithful few.

We True Blue.


Yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph.  --Thomas Paine, The Crisis.

Behind

I am wayyy behind in my blogging.  I know you are thinking "huh?", because I've blogged every day.  Yeah, but not what I'd wanted to.  Things just kept happening to throw my posting off.  Like the Texas Rangers winning Saturday.  That threw my Saturday post to Monday.

But I wrote something else I wanted to post Monday, which postponed Monday post #1 to Tuesday.  Then, the accident at work happened, and that pushed my Monday post #2 to Tuesday and made me forget all about Monday post #1.

Then Tuesday came, and I got so caught up watching the election returns, and I ended up not posting anything except a post telling you I wasn't posting anything.  So this post will be a bit of a catch up hodge podge of information.

First off, my coworker is still in critical condition.  He's already had one surgery, and they say he'll need a couple more.  It looks pretty bad.  I was thinking about Bobby, though.  What was he feeling?  What was he thinking?  I mean, he heard all the yelling, and panicked pages, and saw people running.   I can't even imagine what he must have felt when he saw that it was his son lying there.  And yet, he was the one comforting Tameka.  "He'll be alright," Bobby said.  "The best thing to do is just put your head down and pray."

Somewhere in all the hullabaloo, I cast on another hat.   I don't even remember when I did it, but I took a photo to post.  I just never posted it.

I do know when I finished it, though. Last night, and here is the final product.

Yes, that color is pretty accurate. But it seems adequate for what I'm going to do with it. Shhhh, that's a surprise. Well, I need to find a co-conspirator, but I hope to have a surprise ready soon.

I got a few decent photos of the company picnic Saturday to share with you. This is what I was going to post Saturday night, then got caught up watching the Texas Rangers play. Then I was going to post it Monday, but I wrote another post, then the accident happened...

The bad thing is, they had scattered disposable cameras around with notes on them telling whoever to take photos with those. I took more photos with them than I did with my own camera. But I'll give you what I've got...

Greg doing a little batting practice.  One kid said, "He's been batting a long time."  And I replied, "He's the boss.  He can bat as long as he wants to."

Here he is again, judging the bake off.

Sometimes it's good to be boss. BTW, he sat right across the table from me while we were eating. He saw my LSU hoodie that I was wearing and mentioned that he had gone to Oklahoma State, where Les Miles coached before he came to LSU. I asked if they called him The Mad Hatter back then. Greg said no. I guess that one came after the game against Florida in 2007. You know, the one where he went for it on 4th down 5 times and made every one. They ended up winning that game on a last minute touchdown run by Jacob Hester, who I once promised to name my next child after.

OK, moving right along...

This is Mac, our safety guy taking his batting practice. 

They ended up playing a regular game, but I don't think either Greg or Mac played. I didn't watch the whole thing. I walked over to the health fair, and saw the inflatable kids toys. Kids are always great to take pictures of. This little girl on the right

saw me with the camera, so as soon as she got to the bottom of the slide, she popped right up and said, "Cheese!"

Isn't she just the cutest thing?  She's the grandbaby of our stockroom lady.  I need to print this picture out and take it to her.  Well, then she wanted to take a picture, so I gave her the camera.  This is what she came up with.

She was determined to get me to go into the bouncy castle. I kept telling her I was too big, but she was persistent. Maybe if it had been a full sized bouncy castle, but it was a small one, and crowded already.

There were other contests and games, but I only got this one, rather poor photo of the costume contest.  

I tried to get better ones, but there was this one lady who wouldn't move out from in front of the kids. She's even in this photo, but I cropped her out. Of course, about 5 of those kids are her grandkids. Nope, 4 are.  The 5th one had wandered off by this time.

My little bulbs I bought last week have started growing roots, so much so that they've pushed the bulbs right out of the soil.

I guess I'm going to have to fix that this weekend. Or tomorrow. Or whenever.

And look! My Christmas cactus is budding!

After so many years of not doing anything, two years in a row I'm going to have blooms. I keep it outside during the summer, and one of the storms broke a piece off. Well, I put that piece into some water and rooted it. Now it's in its own pot, and even that one has buds.

And I've got Christmas music playing in the background.

That's about it. I stayed up way too late last night watching election returns, so I'm about to hit the hay. I hope to get caught up on relevant topics, and not just posting to be posting something, soon. 

Really, I am. 

This time I mean it.

Or not...

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I Need To Blog

I even have a post pre-written.  I need to clean up the kitchen.  I need to pick my clothes up off the floor.  I need to go to bed.

But I just keep sitting here watching these maps turn red.



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A Very Bad Day

I was working away, when I heard a shout and I turned around and saw Steve running and I heard another shout and I saw Tameka running and among her shouts I heard her say "that guy" so I went and looked and there he was, crumpled motionless on the floor and Tameka shouted that he wasn't breathing, but he really was, and Brian ran and paged Ronnie and Walter to come NOW, and I was trying to think who our first aid trained people were because my card expired some 20 years ago and I was really missing Bubba because he was an EMT and when something happened we knew exactly who to go get, but now we don't, but about that time Ronnie and Walter showed up and somebody motioned Bobby to come over and I thought Bobby was a first responder, but he wasn't, and they'd called him because he was the guy's father and Jake was hollering "call 911 and tell them to get out here NOW" and about that time the guy started having seizures and his head was bleeding, and Kathy was standing there trying to tell everyone what to do because you know the sun won't come up in the mornings if she's not there to tell it to, and John walked by and told us to go back to work, but Ronnie told Rod to send us all to the break room, then a few minutes later he came and got us, I asked Tameka and she said that the guy had fallen and hit his head really hard, and I heard a rumor that they'd had to airlift him to Memphis because he still hadn't regained consciousness, but  I don't know for sure because I asked Ronnie and he hadn't heard anything more, and it was a very nerve wracking and frightening day, so Rod came and asked me "Can we just go home now, because my old heart can't take much more of this", and I knew he was thinking about two weeks ago when one of the flow meters we use with our propylene brazing gas blew up and flames were shooting everywhere, and it just seems like everything happens to our line. 

Some days are like that. 

A Halloween Memory

Halloween was always one of my favorite holidays as a child.  But not all Halloween memories are pleasant ones.  I'd hesitated on sharing this one with you, but in the end, I decided to go ahead.

The elementary school I attended--along with all my siblings--always put on this big Halloween Carnival every year.  It was held a night or two before Halloween, so we didn't have to choose between the Carnival and Trick-or-Treating, like kids do today.  The Carnival was just as much fun, and I looked forward to going every year.

The year my brother was in second grade, his class was in charge of putting on the haunted house.  Now, back in those days, when we didn't have to be so politically correct all the time, we called them spook houses.  Can't do that any more, but we did back then.

My older brother's class was in charge of the spook house, and my mother had volunteered to be the wicked witch.  Finally, the long anticipated day of the Halloween carnival had arrived.  My mother was in the kitchen boiling spaghetti and peeling grapes.  I was in kindergarten that year, and as there were no kindergartens in the public schools,  I went to a private kindergarten that was held in one of the local churches.  We got off at 11:30, so I was there in the kitchen watching my mother prepare.  I asked her why she was peeling grapes, and she explained that the grapes were supposed to be eyeballs and the spaghetti was supposed to be guts.  I said they didn't look like eyeballs and guts to me.  My mother replied that it would be dark in the spook house, so maybe nobody would notice.  Then she turned around and asked me the one question I never expected to hear.

"You are going to come see me in the spook house, aren't you?"

Now, I'd never been inside a spook house before. I didn't really know what they were all about. All I knew was that there was scary stuff in them. I didn't like scary stuff. I didn't like to be scared, so I told my mother no.

"What??"  my mother exclaimed incredulously.    "You aren't going to come see me in the spook house?  How do you think that's going to make me feel?  What will people think if my own daughter won't come see me in the spook house?"

That night, walking around the carnival with my dad and brother, and my baby sister in the stroller, we came to the entrance of the spook house.  My brother went in without hesitation.  I just stood there.  My dad asked me, "Do you want to go in?"

I didn't, but decided that the *** I would face when I got home that night was scarier than anything that could be in that spook house.  I was wrong.  My little shoulders slumped.  I didn't see that I had much of a choice, so I took a deep breath and slowly, reluctantly, I went in.

The first thing I had to do was crawl down a long tunnel.  I later figured out that it was sheets draped over card tables, but at the time, it was just a dark, scary tunnel.  I heard all sorts of noises, moans, groans, howls, screams, and through the sheets, hands reached out to grab me.  Just as I was crawling out of the end of the tunnel, a werewolf jumped at me, roaring and growling.

This was just too much.  Screaming, I turned around and tried to crawl back up the tunnel, but there were too many people in the way.  They wouldn't move.  They wouldn't let me go back.  In despair, I sat on my heels, just inside the end of the tunnel, and cried.  People continued to crawl past me.  I even heard one boy say, "Somebody's blocking the tunnel," but nobody stopped.

Nobody stopped to comfort a frightened, crying little girl.  The only one trying to reassure me was the werewolf.

"It's OK," he said.  "I'm not going to hurt you.  I"m not really a werewolf.  I'm just somebody's daddy, dressed up in a costume."

He was trying to comfort me, but I was having none of it.  Then I saw, through the end of the tunnel, my mother hurrying towards me, witch costume billowing out behind her.  I felt a brief flash of hope.  I thought for a moment that she was going to make those people move, so I could go back out the entrance.  So I could get out of there.  My hopes were quickly dashed when instead of helping me, she began slapping me.  And slapping me.

And slapping me, and slapping me.

And slapping me.

How long this went on, I don't know.  To my childish mind, it seemed like forever.  Eventually, my mother's rage was sated and she stopped hitting me.  She grabbed me by the wrist and jerked me out of the tunnel.  As she was dragging me over to her witch's table, I looked over at the werewolf, who had retreated to the corner, over by some fake rocks.  He didn't look mean any more.  He just looked sad.

He quickly got over it, though, and was soon back to roaring and jumping at people as they came out of that tunnel.

At the witch's table, I dutifully touched the cold spaghetti, squeezed the peeled grapes, and thought that even in the dark, they didn't look like guts and eyeballs.  I drank my little bathroom cup of witch's brew, which was just Kool-Aid without sugar added to it.  Then I turned, and without looking at another thing, walked out of the spook house. 

I have never been inside another one, not even the one the church put on when I was a youth.  Not even the one we held at the dojo a few years ago.  Oh, I went in and helped set it up.  I even took pictures.  But when it came time to open it, I left.

I guess there are just some things that once is enough.

The Texas Rangers

have WON their very first World Series game, EVER!!!

Go Rangers!

The Texas Longhorns, on the other hand....



Sigh, it's going to be a long season...

Hat Making Machine

That's what Sus called me. And yes, I did finish another one.

Since these hats are going to be primarily for men, I unvented a different sort of decrease.  The normal knit 8 stitches, knit two together tends to produce a swirly pattern, I tried something new.  Well, new to me.  This is SSK, knit 16, K2TOG.  I like this decrease.  I may use it more often.  Of course, I like the swirly decrease, too, but manly men might like this one a little better.

I wish I had a head.  I mean a styrofoam wig head.  It would be so much easier to get good hat photos with one of those.  Here we see the new hat being modeled by Rylea.    She's so cooperative. 

It got down into the 30's last night, but I still didn't turn on my heater.  Well, I did, but only for a moment.  I wanted to burn the dust off the coils and get the smoke alarm screeching over with.  Better to do it on a day like today than to have to go through that at 4:30 AM.  I spent the rest of the day knitting and baking cookies for the company picnic tomorrow.

I made chocolate chip and peanut butter.  I tried to use my cookie stamps with the peanut butter ones, but they puffed just a bit too much and so the designs aren't that clear.  I may just take those to Rod on Monday.  Peanut butter is his favorite, and he won't care that the scarecrow looks like it's having an anaphylactic reaction. 

If you plan on carving a Jack-O-Lantern tomorrow, here are some carving tips for you.

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Rylea says, "Bring on the cold.  I've got my hat.  I'm ready"

Random Thoughts Of A Thursday Afternoon

I did something last night that I have never done before in my life.  And what could this first experience for me be? 

I watched a World Series game.

And why would I watch  World Series game when I hadn't ever felt the need to before?  Because the Texas Rangers are playing!

I've never been a really big baseball fan.  I mean, it's OK, but I tend to live the old adage:

Baseball is America's pastime, but football is America's passion.


Speaking of, I dare you to watch this video and still question Tony Romo's heart, dedication, and toughness.

I double dare you.   I triple dare you.

I triple dog dare you.

Tonight, I am watching my second ever World Series game.  Why?  Because the Texas Rangers are playing.  I grew up an Astros fan, but where I live now, they mostly show the Cardinals.  I've become a fan by default, but there will always be a spot in my heart for the 'Stros. 

You know, in other sports, when a player gets hurt, you think "Auuugh!  He hurt his knee!"  In football, you think "Whew!  It was only a knee."  Then you think "Auugh!" but first, there is that slight moment of relief that it wasn't something worse.  Like a neck.

Quote of the Week:  If the truth kills a man, let him die.  --Keith Brooking

Did I ever mention that I love that man?

No?

I love that man!

They're predicting down into the 30s tonight.  Could this be the night I finally turn my heater on?  There's just something cozy and comforting about having the heater running.  Once you get past the stench of burnt dust, and the screeching of the smoke alarms, and the ensuing panic of the pets, that is.

I miss the old kind of baseball uniforms, with the knee pants and the stripy sock things.  I do NOT miss the old Denver Broncos uniforms with their stripy sock things.

Ugh.  Where's the brain bleach?  I'm going to have nightmares, now. 

Sus, you're welcome.  He he he...

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This Game

During the 2008 season, when Tony Romo missed three games with a broken finger, it became obvious that back up quarterback Brad Johnson no longer had what it takes to lead an NFL team.   At the end of that season, he was released, and the Cowboys traded for veteran quarterback Jon Kitna.  Immediately, fans began clamoring for Romo to be benched and Kitna be named starter. 

Be careful what you wish for.

The Cowboys had been struggling all season.  But they'd been working on fixing their problems.  They were going to get them corrected.  And this was going to be the game.  The game where they turned their season around.  This Game.

They'd been struggling with kick off coverage.  This game, they held the Giants to just a 16 yard average on kick off returns.

They'd been struggling with turnovers.  This game, they won the turnover battles, with three interceptions and two fumble recoveries, while only giving up two themselves.

They'd been struggling with penalties.  This game, they committed only 5, for a season low 42 yards.  What's more, for the first time all season, they drew fewer flags than their opponent. 

They'd been struggling to score points.  This game, they put up 35, which in most games would be enough to win. 

And the kicker got touchbacks.  And Dez returned a punt 93 yards for a touchdown.  And they didn't miss a single field goal.  And they were playing a great game and they were doing everything right and the sun was shining in Dallas once again.


But the bad luck that has been plaguing these Cowboys would soon rear its ugly head again.  Midway through the second quarter, the Cowboys are up 10-7, all 10 points having come off of turnovers.  They have the ball once again, and are driving.  Tony Romo completes a pass to Miles Austin and they pick up a first down.

But when the play is over, one may lay on the ground, writhing in agony, unable to breathe. 

Cowboys stadium fell silent.  Eerily silent.  Deathly silent.

You could have heard a pin drop.

Trainers rush to the injured player's side. Helping him up.  Helping him to the sidelines.

When he tried to return to the game, they grabbed him by his horsecollar and said, "Oh, no you don't." And then, to the sound of 90,000 hearts hitting the floor,  the franchise quarterback left the field, not to return.

Suddenly, fans get their wish.  In one sickening crunch of collarbone, Jon Kitna is now the Dallas Cowboys starting quarterback.  In one sickening crunch of collarbone, Super Bowl aspirations go swirling down the drain.

Now the question remains, where do the Cowboys go from here?  To the next game, of course.  That would be this Sunday, against the Jacksonville Jaguars.  They'll rally around Kitna.


They'll keep playing.  They'll keep fighting.  They may win.  They may lose.  But they'll play.  One game at a time.

"We've got one game left. One game, that's it," Wade Phillips said. "We've got one game. That's all we are going to... You can talk about 10 games, and this game, and hard schedule and all that. We've got one game. We've got to play that game. We've got to play as hard as we can play. And try to win that ball game, and that's what we are going to do.

This week, this game, right now.

That's it. "

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Do Not

Kick the ball to this guy under any circumstances! 

On the other hand, DO!

Got lots to talk about, but I just can't seem to get my thoughts together just yet.  More later...

Music Monday

Our Grenada High School marching band