Deception is something that magicians rely on quite heavily. Here's another example:
One Friday night, a worker approached the guard shack with a wheelbarrow full of hay. He stopped while the guard searched the hay. Finding nothing, he let the worker go home. That went on for several Fridays, the guard knowing the worker was stealing something, never finding anything in the hay, but just couldn't figure it out. Finally, the guard stopped the worker and told him he knew he was stealing something, that it was driving him crazy and that he was being transferred to another city. He begged the worker to tell him, promising not to tell anyone else, just what it was he was stealing. The worker said "wheelbarrows".
16 July 2016
That's the sign we proudly displayed on the front of our house during World War II. Our father was working the night shift in a factory producing material needed to help end the war, and needed to sleep during the day. We made sure the neighborhood kids were aware and steered clear. All street games were played up the street, as quietly as we could manage. Can you picture us playing tag, whispering?
06 July 2016
Our son’s step-son died suddenly at age 35. Of course, everyone is grieving and in shock that he could be taken at such a young age. But, such is life – and death. None of us know the time of our coming demise. That is the uncertainty of life: we never know when the last time we see someone will turn out to be the Last Time. So what does that mean to us? Should we grieve after they’re gone because of all the things we left unsaid? Or should we celebrate that we took the time to truly be with them each and every time we had the opportunity? Regret or rejoice? I can only hope, for my Last Time, that it will be rejoice.