Spilt Wine

Words that sing to my heart

Oh, to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be
And let Thy goodness like a fetter
Bind my wandering heart to Thee
Prone to wander, Lord I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
Here's my heart Lord, take and
seal it
Seal it for Thy courts above

I shaved my beard Monday night.
My face still looks naked.
I don't feel as sexy without it.

The rain keeps falling, but the trees still look dried up.
I drink, yet I thirst for more.
I sleep only to wake up tired.
I am never all that hungry, and I have to remind myself to eat.
One hundred things to do, but I always feel bored.
Friends all around, though I feel alone.
A joyful heart is good medicine,
but a broken spirit dries up to the bone.
Even in laughter the heart may be in pain,
And the end of Joy may be grief.

Christmas starts today!

Christmas this year was a bummer.
I have been feeling down the last couple of days. I was sad that Audrey and I really did not have the money this year to buy each other gifts. Well more that I did not get to buy Audrey a lot gifts. Gift Giving for me is one of my main ways of showing affection and love. One of my known love languages, if you will.

Then the exhausting house to house stops over the past couple of days drained me. We were at Audrey’s grandparents Christmas eve, my parents Christmas morning, her parents Christmas evening, and my friend Rubens later on Christmas night. Not a whole lot of time for just us, in our home. With the combination of both feeling down and drained, it made for tension between Audrey and I.

I guess the saddest part was coming home from Ruben’s to find that Audrey had put away all of the Christmas decorations in the House. I asked why she put everything away. She said she was ready for Christmas to be over. I thought about it and it broke my heart. I did not want Christmas end like that. It would go down as the worst Christmas ever! I told Audrey that I could not end Christmas like that. Putting everything away symbolized the end of our Christmas and sealed it’s memories. I did not want bunk memories of this years Christmas.

So today, December 26, we redecorated our front room. We re-hung our stockings. We start our Christmas over, because I want this to be the Christmas that I remember Audrey taking her Christmas gift card she got from work and using it to buy me Lord of the Rings. The Christmas that she crossed her name out on a couple of coffee gift cards someone gave her and put my name in its place. I want it to be the Christmas were the real present is within my wife’s belly.

The Château of ones Heart

The Heart is like a Chateau, with to many rooms to count.
One could spend a life time exploring and searching, not ever finding every
room.
It is protected by walls of brick, yet love can conquer it every time.
It can be a cold, dreary place at times, and others, a warm, peaceful dwelling.
It is splendid and beautiful, given as a gift to a Kings or Queens.
The Chateau of the heart is filled with treasures, unfortunately they are rarely shared.
The Chateau can be a symbol of the rulers of Joy, Peace, Generosity, Greed, Selfishness or Lustfulness.
It is an ongoing war for this Chateau, as different kingdoms battle for complete rule of this splendid Castle.

Sour wine for my sour soul.
The wine is red like my sorrow.
The wine warms my vacant chest, longing to warm something within me.
The wine relaxes me with hopes of revealing a more truer self.
The wine can be a connecter between friends in the midst of celebration of life, friendship and love.
The wine can turn against me and leave me with a pounding head ache as a reminder of it’s false friendship.

Currently Listening to- Modest Mouse "Trailer Trash"
Currently Drinking a nice cold Samuel Adams "Boston Lager"
Currently Wearing- Black sweater, khaki pants

Ok, enough with that.

I don't really have anything to say tonight, but I just felt like posting something anyways.

I hope for those who read this blog, that you take the time to explore some of the blogs I have linked off my page. I find all of them intirsting, and full of insight, especially those linked under superfiends.

I added a new blog. It is called Kathryn's Journal. I have been following this girl's blog for awhile now. I came across it by just randomly looking at the most recently posted blogs on the blogger home page.

Anyhow, I don't know much about her. I don't know were she lives, what she does or looks likes. I just know she battles with depression. I feel for this stranger. I feel bad that she hates taking medication for her depression. I worry when she has not posted in a while that she may have committed suicide. I wish I could have an opportunity to speak some encouragement to her, because I too have been there. And I am sure I will be there again.

My name is Tootsie

I mispronounce words contently- that’s ok, they say it is endearing
I day dream all the time- Maybe one day I live will live out those dreams
I love music- it is comforting to my soul
I am conflicted with joy and despair- it makes me feel alive
I have great friends- they love me for who I am and lift me up when I am down
I am full of compassion for other people- yet I am selfish beyond measure
I am rooted here in Visalia- but I long to move on to, or at least explore new scenery
I am devoted to God- yet I can be a horrible example
My name is Tootsie-and I love my friends

Chalk one up for the good guys!

Today I spent most of the day in the field. (the streets, out of the office)
I had a good time, mainly because I asked another Officer, Don Smith to come with me.

Today Don and I were like Cadney and Lacy…umm, well, maybe not. We were like Poncho and …….. dang. What was that other guys name? Never mind. We were like Crocket and Tubs, except we’re in Visalia not Miami.

Anyhow, I really hate, hate is a strong word, I digress. I strongly dislike gang bangers. I don’t appreciate their disrespect to others, authority and property. Oh, and their cockiness too.

Well, let me tell you. We got one today. As Don and I were cruising in our unmarked Dodge Stratus ( the Ferrari is in the shop) I saw this kid writing on the wall at Redwood High School.

I asked Don “do you see that kid?”
“What does he think he is doing?”
Don replied “I don’t know, lets check it out.”

So, I stopped the car in the middle of Main street and threw that bad boy in reverse. Don rolled down his window and called for the kid to come to the car.
The kid looked like he was about to run, so I threw the car in park and we got out. When we approached the kid, we had found that he wrote “loker x4” in several places. We detained him and put the pressure on and until he fessed up.

Don kept telling the kid “ Come on dude, do I look stupid? Don’t lie to me. I cant stand Liars. Why are you going to lie to me?”

I then called the Redwood High School officials, and my friend George who is the campus cop there. It turned out that they have been wanting to catch this kid for a while. The kid had been expelled from that school and was actually trespassing by being on campus. He has also tagged up the campus several times before. George took the kid into custody from that point, we had done our part.

So, you can thank us for keeping your city that much cleaner from graffiti later.
(this is where the theme song to cops is played)

On my way home last night I noticed it was a full moon. I was driving east, so I got to watch it rise up above the Sierra Nevadas. It also seem larger then normal. It was glowing with an off white color. I could see the man on the moon too. It has been years since I last saw him or even looked for him.

I wonder what he has been doing all this time. I wonder if he too is growing old like me and has lost interest in childish things. I wonder if he gets lonely and wishes he was here, like I wish to escape sometimes and go there. Does he feel down when people don't notice him or at least acknowledge his existence? I know I do.
Does he get frustrated when clouds get in his way, or depressed because people seem to be more intrigued with the stars?

I think the man on the moon and I have a lot in common.

I found this pic of Jason fighting off the pegeons (aka pesters) in San Francisco.

I had to work late tonight. I helped supervise a Christmas dance for foster children. There was approximately 150 kids there. I found something interesting about the dance.

See, I remember my high school dances, and only the cool/accepted kids got to dance. While all the unaccepted kids stood next to the wall longing to belong.

Tonight I saw these kids accept each other for who they each were.
I saw the pregnant teen dancing with other kids. I saw the goofy white kid with no rhythm dance with the black kids who knew how to dance very well. I observed boys dancing with a girl who had to use a walker because of her scoliosis. I saw kids who were in special education dance with kids in main stream education. I saw the southern gang members get along with northern gang members. Not one kid stood on the wall tonight.

What I saw was kids being kids. These kids who have been taken away from their parents and placed in foster homes and who have had, up to this point in life, a crummy childhood. Tonight these kids were celebrating life with one another.

It was a neat experience to be apart of. All this brings to me Tim’s thought on hope. What do these kids hope for? What hope do they have? Maybe that’s why they all got along so well together. They share the same hope of having a better life. The hope of being accepted. The hope of just making it in life or maybe the hope that their parents will get off drugs or get out of prison and be reunified with them. They hope to have the life that so many of us take for granted.

And most of all, they hope to be loved.

Just added some new photos.

Top Left - Audrey and I Kayaking in Morro Bay.
Top Right- Me on top of Mt. Whitney.
Bottom Left- Will and some girl.
Bottom Right- Jason and I jamming.

As I drove to work today, I was blown away by the beauty of the valley we live in. Today was a rare day. Today I could see the foothills rolling up into the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It was like something you would normally only see in a photograph or painting. The view of green farm fields leading to green foothills and then the foothills turning into mighty snow capped mountains was a spectacular scene. I wish I had a camera or at least some way of capturing this sight. Hopefully it will be engraved into my memory forever.

All this made me think of something.

Audrey told me Sunday night that sometimes she can see the man God wants me to be, the man I am trying to be.

The problem is she said sometimes. Kinda Like sometimes here in Visalia you can see the mountains. They are there you just don't see them all the time. But when you do get to see them it is a beautiful sight. I guess it is the same way for us. When our true self comes out it is also a beautiful sight. The inner beauty of our selves is always there. It is just not always seen because of the fog of selfishness, the smog of insecurities, and the pollution of fear.