Come on in... sit down, and have a cup of dare!

Come on in... sit down, and have a cup of dare!
The Dare Chair... scroll down the page to find out what this chair is all about!

Quote of the Week

"Happiness is like a kiss. You must share it to enjoy it." ~Bernard Meltzer

Get Your Groove On! Choose any song you wish, and start dancing in the kitchen!


Thursday, November 29, 2007

I'll Be Home For Christmas


Here is a touching true story from the book, I'll Be Home For Christmas The Library of Congress Revisits the Spirit of Christmas During World War II. This story was written by Marine Edward Andrusko, who was wounded three times in battle.

Christmastime 1944...

Miracle on a Train

I arrived at the San Diego railroad station early one 1944 morning and joined throngs of anxious holiday travelers who were burdened with baggage and Christmas gifts. We climbed aboard the overbooked holiday train. Lines of military and civilian passengers pushed and shoved each other, scrambling for the last remaining seats.

It would take an eternity---four days and four nights---to reach New York City. Still weak from malaria and hurting from my recent battle wounds, I was not looking forward to this long, boring trip.

I struggled down the aisle, carrying my Marine Corps seabag. Panic set in as I neared the end of the car. It was the last one, and all the seats looked occupied. My anxiety was interrupted by a loud voice: "Over here, Marine, and hurry up; I have a seat for you."

I hurried over, sat next to a sailor and thanked him for the seat.
"Hi, mate," he said. "They call me 'Ski,' because of my long Ukrainian name."

We both grinned and clumsily shook left hands. My wounded right hand was in a sling; and his right arm was amputated, with his empty jumper sleeve pinned up at the shoulder.

When I saw the many Navy men and women struggling through the narrow aisle, I asked Ski why he, a Navy man, gave me, a Marine, this seat. "Well, I saw your shoulder patch, your combat ribbons, and battle stars, and I knew that you and I fought in the same campaigns. You were on the land, and I was on the sea. I served aboard the USS Chicago, a cruiser named after my hometown. I lost my arm when we were torpedoed off the island you were fighting on."

The locomotive's loud steam whistle blew, then with the clang of its large bell we started to move, heading east across southern California.

Ski and I were both proud of the Navy and Marine Corps, but were bitter toward the military hospital we had just left. It had an inefficient administrative system and the medical staff was overworked and burned out. Four years of war and the continuous flow of casualties had created a callous attitude.

We were disenchanted with the negative treatment we had received from the military and the apathetic civilian world since our return to the United States. It was this type of poor management that put rehabilitating servicemen on this crowded train rather than on an airplane.

This would be my fourth Christmas away from home, and the season always made me sad because of the many friends who had died in battle during this holiday.

Our train was traveling at maximum speed, but across the great American desert it seemed like we were not moving fast enough. We had too much time on our hands.

We could sleep sitting up in our seats, stand in line for meals and washroom, or reminisce bittersweet battle memories with our train mates. Ski and I agreed that we both became near atheists and cynics after three years of war. Soon we tried to sleep the time away.

En route to Denver, our train would wind ever so slowly through many tunnels, around picturesque snow-covered mountains and valleys. I consoled myself that time was no longer important. What was my hurry-- I would miss Christmas at home by a day. My parents had split up, and I had no hone to go to. My girlfriend of four years sent me a "Dear John" letter, saying she had waited too long for me to return and found someone else, And worst of all, when I was well enough for duty, I could be sent overseas to battle again.

We left Denver early in the morning in a snowstorm. Our train's whistle blew often as we charged across the prairie states through a howling blizzard. It was nightfall somewhere in Illinois. Our train slowed to a crawl because of poor visibility. It was freezing outside and getting colder inside our passenger coach on this Christmas Eve.

The train conductor entered our car and called out, "It's ten o'clock, two hours to Chicago, next stop Chicago!" He dimmed the lights and left.

Ski turned to me and said, "Eddy Lee, I'm worried about my family meeting me at the Chicago station and seeing me like this. I asked my girl not to come. What should I do or say to them?"

"Act natural, they know about your arm, try to be yourself," I said. "You all love each other, and I'll bet they will thank God that you made it home alive. It will all work out fine; you'll see. Now let's try to get some sleep."

Our train suddenly made an unscheduled, metal-screeching stop. A few waking passengers muttered, "What's going on?" Most went back to sleep.

I looked out the window and could see only a small, dimly lighted railroad station surrounded by large snowdrifts. The door at the other end of the car opened, and in the darkened car, I could just barely see a small boy and a mature woman coming into our coach.

They walked slowly up the aisle, looking at the passengers, apparently looking for a seat. The two strangers cautiously headed toward my end of the car.

I closed my eyes and tried to get back to sleep, wondering why the train was not moving. It just sat there at this lonely, dark railroad station. I fell asleep for a few minutes, until I heard a noise in front of me. I slowly opened my eyes and saw the young boy, about eight or nine years old standing in front of me, staring.

The boy smiled and said, "Welcome home and a Merry Christmas, Marine. My grandmother and I would like to give you a gift and thank you for serving our country."

The boy handed me a dollar bill and then shook my hand. The grandmother put her arm around me and said, "God bless you." Then they both smiled and said, "Merry Christmas and good-bye."

I was surprised and moved. I said, "Thank you, thank you very much." I searched in my seabag for some sort of Christmas gift for the boy. When I looked up, they were gone.

Our train whistle blew; we lunged forward and were rolling again. I quickly looked out my frosty window and saw the boy and his grandmother leaving the dismal railroad station. I waved goodbye as they slipped into the darkness. They did not see me.

I sat back in my seat bewildered, wondering what had just happened. Had it been real? I queried Ski and the two soldiers sitting across from me if they too had seen the little boy and his grandmother. The said, "No, we were sleeping." Ski added, "You must have been dreaming."

My mind raced with questions. Who were they? Why did they pass by all those other servicemen, including other marines, and then stop in front of me? Maybe I was sleeping, and with all the medication I was taking for pain and malaria, it just could have been a strange, nice dream.

It was two more hours to Chicago, and I decided to try to get some sleep. But before closing my eyes, I looked down at my tightly closed fist. I slowly opened my hand and there was a crumpled-up dollar bill.

I contentedly fell asleep with my precious gift tucked safely in my pocket and a pleasant feeling in my heart, the nicest feeling I had in a very long time.

The conductor came into the car and announced our arrival in Chicago. Passengers took their baggage from the overhead compartments. I helped Ski with his seabag. He was getting off. He was home.

Ski and I said our emotional good-byes as the train came to a stop. The crowd of passengers left through both exit doors. I sat back, waiting to continue my odyssey of another thousand miles to New York City.

It was midnight. As I looked out the train window, I was surprised to see hundreds of people, young and old choirs of many ethnic and racial backgrounds on the station platform, all holding candles and sheet music and singing Christmas carols. The people and the station were all decked out with the holiday spirit and decorations. It was a bitterly cold, snowy Christmas night in Chicago, but the holiday spirit was cheerful and warmed all our hearts.

As I enjoyed the joyful singing, our train car doors opened and the singing choirs of young people paraded in. Each singer carried a tray of food and drinks. Each tray held a complete Christmas dinner with a small gift on it. There were enough trays for everyone on the train. We were no longer strangers. We all sang, ate and celebrated together. It was the most beautiful, festive Christmas I had ever had. Our generous Chicago hosts cheerfully wished us a "very Merry Christmas and a welcome home!"

This train odyssey and these unbelievably beautiful events changed my bitter feelings. I really felt I did make it home for Christmas.

Many years later, I told this story to my family at Christmas time. I pondered out loud, "Who was that little boy on the train, and why did he and his grandmother choose me? Why me?"

Our visiting young niece was playing on the floor with her Christmas toy. She had quietly listened to my sentimental wartime story and replied, "I know."

We all looked at her and I said, "You know what?"

"I know who the little boy on the train was, and why he picked you. The little boy was God, and he chose you because you were very, very sad and disappointed with everyone and everything. He wanted to make you happy again and welcome you home--- and he did."

And then I knew a Christmas miracle had happened to me when I needed it most, during the war, on that train and in Chicago.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Time


I can hardly believe that Christmas is just around the corner. It seems the older I get, the more kids I have, the faster the time flies. Remember when you were a kid and you thought that Christmas would never arrive? Time seemed to be slower than molasses in January!


I came across a "prayer" in Joyce Meyer's book, I Dare You. I thought it may ring true to some; I know I can relate! Maybe it will help you remember to slow down long enough to breathe, and take in the moment. Some day, you'll look back on these days as "The Good Ol' Days"... make sure you're living them while you can!


The clock is my dictator, I shall not rest.

It makes me lie down only when exhausted.

It leads me into deep depression.

It hounds my soul.

It leads me in circles of frenzy, for activities' sake.

Even though I run frantically from task to task, I will never get it all done,

For my ideal is with me.

Deadlines and my need for approval, they drive me.

They demand performance from me, beyond the limits of my schedule.

They anoint my head with migraines,

My in-basket overflows.

Surely fatigue and time pressures shall follow me

All the days of my life.

And I will dwell in the bonds of frustration

Forever.


(Author unknown... Joyce Meyer took it from InspirationalStories.com)

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Giving Thanks


Today in church, Pastor Mark passed a microphone around the congregation. Those who wanted to, could share something they were thankful for. What a blessing. We heard everything from being thankful for life from a woman fighting cancer, gratefulness to the pastors and congregation from a senior citizen who has been battling an illness, and felt so loved because of the care and concern she has received, pure joy from a brand new father, and heartfelt love and thankfulness from a father of 11 kids. Another was from a man who just came home from South America. He was thankful for the bounty of food we have. Most of the people he saw, only had one meal a day which consisted of porridge and a small piece of bread. Is your tummy full? Give thanks.
The thanks shared was definitely for the big things in life, down to the simple things we take for granted such as toilet paper. (May we always be thankful for toilet paper! One trip to a remote village in a foreign country, or an unexpected emergency in the woods, and you'll be thanking God for toilet paper! Okay moms.... you know what I'm talking about... How about when your lovely children use the last of the toilet paper, do not tell you about it, and you are stranded on the toilet while everyone else is in school?! I know you've all raced past windows for the Kleenex box!) Anyway, it is always nice to stop long enough to truly think about the things we are thankful for. In church, I gave thanks for our veterans and soldiers, through tears and a shaky voice. The emotion caught me off guard, and I was embarrassed at first. However, as I thought about it later, yes, I should be emotional when talking about the brave men and women who have and are sacrificing their lives for their country, for freedom, and for the basic human rights everyone deserves. May God bless them all and their families. Words just cannot ever describe the gratitude I have for them.


Take a moment, and write down things you are thankful for. Even the simplest of things can bring a smile to your face. Better yet, get up, get out, and do something for someone that will have them thanking God. Be a blessing to others; your kindness will not return void!

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

No Excuses!



Ninety-nine percent of the failures come from people who have the habit of making excuses. ~ George Washington Carver




I dare you to stop making excuses... take responsibility for making your dreams come true!

Monday, November 12, 2007

Veterans' Day




These men and women and their families made great sacrifices - they deserve our utmost respect and deepest gratitude.


Saturday, November 10, 2007

Sweet Apologies


This morning, as I was snuggling with my two little ones, my little girl apologized sincerely for breaking a piece on my Nordic Track. It had happened about a year ago, but she remembered it when she looked at my new one, and wanted me to know she was truly sorry. I forgave her, of course. It was a sweet moment.


My almost 5 year-old son was taking in the moment, and decided he would cash in on some of the attention. "I forgive you, Mom," he says with quite a bit of drama. "What?" "I forgive you." "For what?" "You know, for the other day when you made me clean my room. I forgive you."


Oh, brother!

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

101%


(Thanks to my cousin, Cathy for sending this to me.)


From a strictly mathematical viewpoint:

What Equals 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than 100%?

Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%?

We have all been in situations where someone wants you to GIVE OVER 100%.

How about ACHIEVING 101%?

What equals 100% in life?

Here's a little mathematical formula that might help answer these questions:

If: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Is represented as: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.

If: H-A-R-D-W-O-R- K = 8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%

And: K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E = 11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5 = 96%

But: A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E = 1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%

THEN, look how far the love of God will take you:

L-O-V-E-O-F-G-O-D = 12+15+22+5+15+6+7+15+4 = 101%

Therefore, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that:

While Hard Work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there,

It's the Love of God that will put you over the top!

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Pretty Good


The following came from Charles Osgood of CBS News...


There once was a pretty good student,

Who sat in a pretty good class;

Who was taught by a pretty good teacher,

Who always let pretty good pass---


He wasn't terrific at reading,

He wasn't a whizbang at math;

But for him education was leading

Straight down a pretty good path.


He didn't find school exciting,

But he wanted to do pretty well;

And he did have some trouble with writing,

And no one had taught him to spell.


When doing arithmetic problems,

Pretty good was regarded as fine---

5 plus 5 needn't always add up to 10

A pretty good answer was 9


The pretty good class that he sat in

Was part of a pretty good school;

And the student was not the exception,

On the contrary, he was the rule.


The pretty good student, in fact, was

Part of a pretty good mob;

And the first time he knew that he lacked was

When he looked for a pretty good job.


It was then, when he sought a position,

He discovered that life would be tough---

And he soon had a sneaking suspicion,

Pretty good might not be enough.


The pretty good town in our story

Was part of a pretty good state,

Which had pretty good aspirations,

And prayed for a pretty good fate.


There once was a pretty good nation,

Pretty proud of the greatness it had,

Which learned much too late, if you want to be great,

Pretty good is, in fact, pretty bad.

The Dare Chair

Come on in, and pull up a chair! I'm here to inspire you, encourage you, or just plaine Double Dog Dare you to get out and do something you never thought you could do! Periodically, I'll add a quote, comment, or story which will hopefully give you just enough of a nudge to follow your dreams... to take that class, go rock climbing, run a marathon, start that exercise routine, eat healthy, write a book, or whatever your heart desires. You are the author of your life... live it!

Monday: Sit down, have a cup of dare, and write down your goals. Post them all over the house, if it helps! No matter how crazy the goals seem, don't talk yourself out of them! You are strong, you are invincible, you are WOMAN!

Tuesday:
Find a friend to hold you accountable. Accountability is huge! If you have a network of support, your chances of failing are less. Make sure you choose someone that is not afraid of pushing you! Usually moms, grandmas and husbands are not the best choices; they're either afraid of hurting your feelings, think you are fine just the way you are, or do not want to end up in the dog's house! So, choose that friend that is honest, no matter what the cost... trust me, you'll need her!

Wednesday:
Okay, so now you have someone to hold you accountable; great start. Now, be a blabber-mouth. Tell as many people as you can what your goal is. Knowing that so many people are waiting for you to succeed will be a huge motivator. I know when I skiied the Birkie, there were many times along the trail that I truly wanted to quit. I knew I had a cheering section on Main Street waiting for me to cross that finish line. That was enough to motivate me to keep going, one stride at a time.

Thursday:
If you fully realize nothing else, take a big dose of reality on this one... this is going to be hard, uncomfortable, and many times not enjoyable (depending on what the goal is). So, now that you know that, get over it! Achieving your goal will be worth the sweat and tears. Really... it will. Push yourself beyond your former limits. Get rid of self doubt! Even if it is the hardest thing you've ever done, do it with all you've got! Swallow your insecurities, hide your inhibitions, and show yourself just how strong you really are. YOU CAN DO THIS!

Friday:
Try not to look too far into the future. Break your goal into steps, and focus on one at a time. Now, if your goal is to join a class, by all means bite the bullet and do it now; no need to take baby steps on that one! But, if your goal is for example, a marathon, don't quit after the first week because you can't run ten miles! Give yourself time to reach the larger goals. In the meantime, give it ALL YOU'VE GOT, and be pleased with the little steps towards your goal.

Saturday:
NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, GIVE UP!!! (Take it from Winston Churchill... he knew what he was talking about!)


Sunday:
Take one day to rest, or have a special treat. You've worked hard all week, but make sure you don't reward yourself too much... i.e. a whole bag of Hershey's Kisses!!!

SHARE YOUR SUCCESSES WITH YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY. SHOW THEM YOUR PROGRESS, WHETHER IT IS ART WORK YOU'VE DONE, CLASS WORK, A NEW DANCE YOU'VE LEARNED, OR THE NEW PAIR OF PANTS YOU NOW FIT INTO. CELEBRATE!!

Check out the Blog Archive for writings pertaining to the Dare Chair: April--Uncomfortable, Checking In

INSPIRING QUOTES: If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them. When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or Fight Like Hell. ~Lance Armstrong
If human beings are perceived as potentials rather than problems, as possessing strengths instead of weaknesses, as unlimited rather that dull and unresponsive, then they thrive and grow to their capabilities.
Barbara Bush
Those who dare to fail miserably can achieve greatly.
John F. Kennedy
He who believes is strong; he who doubts is weak. Strong convictions precede great actions.
Louisa May Alcott
There's a need for accepting responsibility - for a person's life and making choices that are not just ones for immediate short-term comfort. You need to make an investment, and the investment is in health and education.
Buzz Aldrin

This Chick's Groovy Music... start dancin'!

  • Aretha Franklin
  • Chicago Motion Picture Soundtrack... This one is great to sing along to... especially when cleaning the house!
  • Chris Botti... great trumpet player, his music is just beautiful!
  • Christmas Music, of course! Bing, Frank, Rosemary... all the classics!
  • Diana Krall
  • Ella Fitzgerald
  • Eric Clapton... I can' t seem to hear enough of his music lately!
  • Eva Cassidy... worth finding!
  • Johnny Cash - great for two-stepping around the kitchen island... if a babe is in your arms, all the better! (A tiny babe, or a Hunky Babe... either one will do!)
  • Loggins & Messina.... ahh... "feel good" music
  • Neil Diamond... I've loved his music my whole life.
  • Norah Jones
  • Phantom of the Opera (motion picture soundtrack)
  • Ray Charles... I can't help but to smile when I hear him sing.
  • Renee Olstead
  • The Notebook Motion Picture Soundtrack