NASHVILLE MUSLIMA THREATENS COWOKERS. READY TO DIE FOR ALLOW AND SHOULD SHOOT THEM ALL.

http://dancingczars.wordpress.com/2012/09/09/nashville-muslima-threatens-coworkers-saying-she-was-ready-to-die-for-allah-and-should-shoot-all-these-people/

"I LOVE ME SOME REDNECKS" - A GREAT PIECE TO THANK THE MEN AND WOMEN OF LAWRENCE COUNTY FOR THEIR HELP IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE TORNADOES IN ALABAMA

From Jason Simpson ABC3340:

Over the past few months, I have come to know Loretta Gillespie, a
writer for the Cullman Times and the Moulton Advertiser, and when I read
this article that she wrote in the Moulton paper last week, I asked her
if I could share it with our readers. She and her editor gave approval
to reprint the article, so I hope this helps give some recognition to
some of Alabama's unsung heroes during and after the April 27th tornado
outbreak:

Moulton Advertiser
Loretta Gillespie
May 7, 2011

"I Love Me Some Rednecks"

"Most all of us around here have born the brunt of remarks from people
outside Lawrence County about being rednecks. Well, I'm here to tell you
right now that I love me some Lawrence County rednecks!

Rednecks have Polan chainsaws, bulldozers, four-wheelers and big ol'
trucks - and they know how to use 'em. They aren't afraid of getting
dirty or of hard work.

As soon as the wind died down, they were the first ones out there,
clearing the roads for emergency vehicles to get to where they needed to
be. They were standing up to their knees in debris so that people could
get out of their driveways. They were checking on neighbors who lived in
the hardest hit areas where cars and normal vehicles didn't stand a
chance.

If you were the victim of the storm and found your driveway miraculously
cleared, you can thank a redneck. If you have a brush pile a mile high
and you didn't do it yourself, you can thank a redneck. If someone
brought you a shirt to put on your back that day, or hauled your
furniture to a storage facility, you can probably thank a redneck.

Those good ol' boys waded through water filled with gas and glass, nails
and torn tin roofs and no telling what else to offer assistance to
people stranded in the rubble of their homes. They worn camo jackets and
John Deere caps, spit tobacco and more than likely did a little cussing,
but they got the job done, and they are the ones who are still out there
cutting up trees and burning brush long into the night, just as they
have been ever since the storms hit.

They didn't wait to be asked...they just 'got 'er done' in the true
sense of the phrase. They didn't stand around jawing and waiting for
someone else to take charge, they went to work doing what they do best -
moving earth, pushing aside massive trees with root systems as big
around as a VW, and tossing aside boards with splinters the size of
kitchen knives.

And they did all this without any thought of their own comfort or
safety. They put their scuffed cowboy boots and worn work boots on the
ground and tread across roof beams and unsteady floors to make sure
there was no one left inside the wreckage of everything from two -story
brick houses to mobile home and barns. They already had a flashlight and
a pocket knife with them.
They rounded up their neighbor's cattle and horses and coaxed kittens
out of trees where the wind had tossed them and they cried like babies
when they found someone's hunting dog broken and bleeding.

They waded into poultry houses and caught terrified chickens, and tossed
mountains of dead ones onto piles to burn. They began to hang tarps and
nail plywood over broken windows to save their cousins and other kin
folk's belongings. They didn't stop for hours on end, hooking chains to
cars, trees and any and everything that had landed helter-skelter as the
tornados tore through.

Rednecks just show up when there is work to be done. They drive up and
with a silent nod, they just pitch in, salvaging refrigerators and
hooking up generators. They don't care if they look cool and they don't
have to shave before they leave the house. They are tough as nails and
love their mamas fiercely. They still say 'Yes, ma'm' and 'No, sir,' to
anyone older than they are. They eat cornbread and pinto beans and drink
tea so sweet a spoon will stand straight up in the glass. They sweat and
swear and have grease under their nails sometimes. They can deliver a
calf and half an hour later be sitting in church, scrubbed to a
fare-the-well. And did they ever save the day when the thunder rolled
and the lightning flashed and the wind knocked down the houses where
they were born?

They don't do it for the glory, and wouldn't dream of taking a dime for
it, and are sometimes even offended if someone asks how much they are
owed 'cause that's what rednecks do - they drive loud trucks, bobcats
and front-end loaders, they crank cantankerous chain saws and they know
the feel of rope burns and blistered faces. They get those red necks
from the sun beating down relentlessly as they labor in the dust and
smoke from all the brush fires. They think sun-screen is for sissies and
they don't worry much about anti-bacterial soap or drink fruit- flavored
water.

Give me a Lawrence County redneck any day when trouble comes - when
fences get blown over and the lights go out, and there are trees and
houses strewn like matchsticks as far as the eye can see, what in the
world would we do without these rednecks?

Thanks to all of you dear rednecks, you deserve medals for what you have
done in the past few weeks. And don't think the world didn't notice,
they did. In fact, somebody is probably writing a country song about you
as you read this."

Loretta Gillespie writes for the Moulton Advertiser
and the Cullman Times


H/T to JL

GULF BLUE PLAGUE REALITIES: DEADLY RADIOACTIVE MICROORGANISMSMS

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IT'S TIME FOR SEED CATALOGS, ISN'T IT?

OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH....do I have a case of spring fever. Not only do I want goats again, but I want to really, really earnestly want to grow a garden, and I'm thinking of raised beds. I have a very shady yard, but I do have a couple of places that let in the sun.

So I went hunting for non-GM seeds and found Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds (rareseeds.com) and ordered their mail order catalog.

It's nothing less than amazing.

They even have a magazine called "The Heirloom Gardener" for $12/yr.

I am impressed. The seeds come from all over the world, and I can't wait to bring this to show to my friend down the street. Before she became ill, we worked and gardened in her yard. We had the most productive, beautiful garden, and a wheelbarrow full of redskin potatoes - OUR POTATOES - graced the cover of "Mother Earth" magazine one year.

Please take a look. And if you can recommend another non-GM seed catalog, please do! Just leave a comment here.

The rush of spring - It can't be held back

The robins came early this year. They arrived at the end of January and are still running through the yards. It has been unusually cold this year and winter has been long. But then I saw a bluebird in mid-February, and today I saw a pair. In the morning, the male cardinals are lustily singing. Blueberries bushes are blooming pink and white all over. When the road crews came by and massacred the trees under the power lines, they did one thing good - they exposed the bushes to the sun and they are being grateful this year. Last year I collected nearly a quart of blueberries. It was a bad year for them.

Today I went over to the water at 12:15 p.m. and took some chicken scraps for the turtles and the fish. The swamp is beginning to green below the straw-colored cattails that rustle like paper in the wind.

I just stood there looking for otters. No otters, but something big jumped or dove, and I suspect it was a big turtle. I saw the bubble trail. It didn't come for my chicken scraps, but the bream did - shot out from downstream in the clear, dark water.

Then from the northwest came six wood ducks flying at triple time with the wind behind them heading downstream over Econfina to Bear Creek. Suddenly four veered off sharply and came down 50 feet away. The two coots who had been dabbling left the area, paddling upstream toward where I stood on the dock.

There were two hens, an immature male (by his dull coloration and his well-developed crest) and an adult male. Beautiful. If I'd had my camera, I couldn't have caught them. They are very wary. I believe these four live in the little canal where my neighbors live, because if I'm walking there I often disturb two to four of them, and never had seen them this close in 20 years.

There were purple martin scouts flying high. A vulture cruised motionless, allowing the wind to take it. Songbirds are all over - the swamp is singing.

The pull of spring is irresistible. There are tiny buds on the redbud tree, and on the pear tree.
Though the weather killed nearly all my potted plants this year despite being covered, some show signs of life. The hand of nature beckons and the earth rejoices and does its bidding.

This is my favorite season; the time of emergence, rebirth, unbridled joy.

Don't give up, even if you're snowbound.

Spring is on its way.

What a beautiful day! I think spring is going to come again...

It was a sunshiny day of perfect temperature, after four inches of rain that caused flooding and havoc in town. A car was swept away in front of Starbucks - that's how bad it was. The roof patches held and though the dogs and cats hated having to go outside - we did - and we didn't shrink or drown.

The county was drawing down the water in the lake to kill the weeds, but there's a lot of water in the creek, the color of black coffee with a little mud mixed in. I'm not sure whether it's because of the rain coming downstream or the dam gates closed.

Took Granny Annie for a walk in her stroller. Clipped my little camera to my cellphone tether (I don't know if it's tethered to me or vice versa - I hate that thing), and off we went. My neighbor lives on the water and the yardman found a water moccasin in one of her trees. So I told Granny we had to watch. We went over to the creek first to look for fishing herons and egrets or anything interesting - nothing but the amount of water in the creek and color of the water.

We took a stroll around the neighborhood. Saw that little stray dog who looks like a big Papillon and called to her, but she disappeared behind my neighbor's house, down into the creek.

Said hello to Jasmine, the half-Shepherd who comes out barking at us whenever we pass, and Buddy, the little Jack Russell belonging to Josh, my 12 year-old friend who is such a good, smart boy, was lying in the sun, waiting for school to be out and Josh to come home.

Went around the corner and didn't see much - a few doves. Someone was shooting in the woods.
I suspect target shooting or sighting in a rifle. We don't fear this. I didn't run for cover in a panic. Neither was Annie afraid. But then, she's a bit deaf.

On the way back, we came across a water turtle - she is young, her plastron so smooth and beautiful. I took her photo. I can promise you she has never been touched by human hands - she was so frightened. She hissed. I took photos. If I can, I always take photos in case I see them again. Her carapace was perfect and unblemished. I'll bet this is the first year she'll lay eggs. What she was doing was scouting for a nest site. I took her with us and released her in the creek across the street. I'll put a photo of her on here later.

We saw a potter wasp and narcissus blooming. so I know we are looking forward to another spring. The world hasn't ended, the polar ice caps are still there, and Phoenix is probably shoveling snow today.

When the jasmine blooms, fireflies light up the night...

It seems that Spring has been a long time coming. The cold weather hung on and then we were given the gift of rain. There's a little creeper of a ground cover (Partridge Berry), native here, which puts forth a pretty white flower that decided to spread itself under the trees. I found one red berry (which is their fruit), and then the spiderwort bloomed. The wisteria followed, dripping amethysts, but my vine didn't do too well this year. Colleen's wisteria, however, was again the focus of things purple on the circle. Azaleas bloomed - standing in the middle of the street, the neighbors that live directly across the county road - have made a hedge of azaleas in three colors. How beautiful to see them blaze in hot colors of pink, coral and red.

Colleen's bank across the street bloomed with tiny two-inch tall violets that are now hidden by a pile of rotting vegetation, including waterlilies, which will be burned. More on that later.

Wild blueberries, producing a bumper crop this year, are turning from green, to garnet, to the deepest, shiny blue.

But now the jasmine blooms merrily, on the fence, on the sides of the porch, in a jumble of beautiful white stars. Two nights ago, the fireflies woke and carried their lantern lights like spirits through the dark woods across the fence. They evoke the happiness of childhood; of evenings with my parents sitting in the yard, and my friends and I running gaily, catching them in jars with grass. I must confess, there was more than one we crushed and sacrificed to see the magic of their light on our fingertips.

Now I know about the chemical process that creates their twinkle, but it's much nicer just to marvel at these little beings, lighting up the night, looking for romance as the jasmine vines scent the yard with their sweet perfume.