Prayers still going up...
Meanwhile, I need a stiff drink.
Have some "Poblachd Saorsa," (in English, "Free Republic") the best whisky straight from The Official Distillery of the Undead ThreadTM.
Posted on 09/23/2007 7:46:56 AM PDT by paulat
Unexploded Rocket-Propelled Grenade Impales Army Private in Afghanistan By RUTH REISS
[snip]
One RPG skidded past Lt. Mariani's vehicle. All of the vehicles had to quickly get out of the "kill zone." But before they could get to safety, two rockets hit Pvt. Moss' Humvee.
Staff Sgt. Eric Wynn, 33, the soldier in the front passenger seat, felt one slice through his face. Moss remembers the truck practically lift up. He was thrown up against the Humvee and then moved to return fire.
"I smelled something smoking and I looked down ... and I was smoking," he said.
Wynn turned to tell Moss where to fire and saw the tail fins of the RPG sticking out of Moss' side.
Roughly the length of a baseball bat, an RPG travels at the speed of a bullet. At the front end is the warhead -- a large grenade. The detonator and fuel are contained in the shaft. On the back are its fins, pieces of metal that stick out like legs on a camera tripod. The RPG is the weapon of choice for many of the world's guerillas.
Luckily for Moss, the company medic Spc. Jared Angell, 23, who the soldiers call "Doc," was in his Humvee
[snip]
A Human Bomb The RPG that had plowed into Moss' lower abdomen stretched from one hip to the other. If the RPG went off, it would kill everyone within 30 feet of him. Yet Angell stayed close, bandaging his wounds and stabilizing the weapon so that movement wouldn't cause it to explode.
Moss was still fully conscious, so Angell ordered him to not look down at the injury. He didn't want Moss to panic.
[snip]
(Excerpt) Read more at abcnews.go.com ...
My son loves catz. His first pet was a kitten, and they had so much fun together.
We’ve always had catz and he has adopted them as his own...I told him he was the one who had to wear the cat hair at night, so if he wanted to put them under the covers, it was up to him!
One cat was named Beaker, after the Muppet character, and another was Sluggo.
He may even like the birdz, if they live long enough!
Good choice for your heir, then.
I’m off to watch “Our Solar System” with Vlad. I put him in his winter pajamas, and it really upset him for some reason. I had to find him a long sleeve shirt and sweat pants!
Yep, my son is a really good “kid.” He always has been. He’s also compassionate and empathetic.
He also cooks, cleans, and can mend his own clothes, and even knows how to wash clothes AND iron them!
My daughter is just now learning to cook...she’s always been with men who have done the cooking. LOL! (I should live so long!)
And with that, I’m headed for the warm flannels...g’night, FRiends!
Thank you. It's good to be back -- or will be when the jet-lag clears. Overslept this morning's 8 AM (PDT) teleconference and it was only after I'd sent a colorful apology to the group that I learned it had been canceled on Tuesday.
Oh well.
Guess I'm off to find what's happened in the world since Friday night.
Since last Friday? One of our lizards died, and we got a new one.
I wrote a poem or two. Or three.
You need one?
What did you write the poems about?
Wow. Thanks for posting this. Lots of heroes.
Politics, mostly.
And a derivative work about “tin whiskers” based on the anti-war song “One Tin Soldier.”
Nothing to be very proud of. The last good one was upthread, called “Someone.”
Good morning. It’s trash day! We’re going to have pizza for supper.
Morning, T-C!
My smart-aleckyness seems to be fully awake, but I will forgo the opportunity afforded by seeing “trash” and “pizza for supper” in the same statement.
We often do that, when the evening is busy with other things. The local pizza place knows us all by name.
I feel like the “let’s get Mikey; he won’t eat it” of the pizza industry.
LOL! We have frozen pizza. Red Baron, I think. They’ve improved.
We’ve got our neighbor’s toddler here this morning. He doesn’t have any brothers, and he can’t understand why Pat, James, and Vlad are following him around trying to give him things.
It’s clear to me.
He followed them home. Now they want to keep him.
They were unhappy when he went home. They’ll all be disappointed when the neighbors move, which will happen when their house is sold. The gentleman has already gone to his new job in northern Virginia, while the mom and baby are here until ... whenever.
They were good neighbors the last 4 years, except for their Rottweilers’ barking.
I’m home. It’s been a long day. My daughter did well, for a first-timer. I wanted to stay, but she was in good hands (her hubby) so I told her I would call her later.
Meanwhile, I need a stiff drink.
My dogs bark like deranged beasts whenever they have room for their voices to echo.
Otherwise, I’m probably a good neighbor.
Sigh. I have SO much catching up to do. There has apparently been a lot going on in the Anglican world and I see Huber has been busy posting and pinging. It will take a couple of hours at least to catch up.
But it looks like I better get used to the regime, because from here to June it's a week-long (or close) trip every month, with only one trip with (a) flight under 4 hours. I think I'm likely to reach elite status on more than one frequent flyer plan next year, possibly all three... *\:-(
Prayers still going up...
Meanwhile, I need a stiff drink.
Have some "Poblachd Saorsa," (in English, "Free Republic") the best whisky straight from The Official Distillery of the Undead ThreadTM.
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