Happiness is an attitude.

The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with her hair fashionably coifed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window. "I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy. "Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room .... just wait." "That doesn't have anything to do with it," she replied. "Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged ... it's how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it ... It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away ... just for this time in my life."

The Taxi

I love stories of inspiration whether they are true of not, I have enjoyed this one many times... THE TAXI RIDE HOME

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.  It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry.  Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, and made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partyers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated". "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly. Oh, I don't mind", she said. I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice". I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, I'm tired. Let's go now."  We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse. "Nothing," I said. "You have to make a living," she answered. "There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly. "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you." I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

The Story behind my Profile picture:

“One day a farmer’s donkey fell down into a Well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally, he decided the donkey was old, and the Well, needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn’t worth it to retrieve the donkey.

He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone’s amazement he quieted down.

A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey did something amazing. He shook it off and took a step up.

As the farmer’s neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off!

Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a steppingstone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.

For somebody who is very non internet savvy, this blog stuff is hard work! Yikes... but I will figure it out and it's giving me something new to learn......I mean what's the harm on clicking on the unknown right?...LOL

 I'll ad more to this as the day goes by....

My life is nothing special, I am an average person who faces average everyday issues. The place I currently rest my head at night is a camper van. I have a pet grooming business, I care for my elderly father, I have an older brother and a younger sister. I live on Long Island but have a home in PA. I am 47, I have several pets 3 dogs, a pet pot belly pig, a horse, some gerbils and a pet rat. I raise Japanese quail, and some meat rabbits.

I am a prepper at heart and for those who don't know about the world of prepping it's about being prepared for emergencies in life. Some will say that a "prepper" are people who prepare for the "end" or "doomsday" etc, but that is just a handful, most prep for everyday life, hurricanes, floods, fires, earthquakes  economic down falls, and health changes in ones life, just to name a few. Prepping has evolved so much, old skills such as homeopathic remedies, gardening, raising livestock, butchering, foraging, tanning, handling firearms, communication, hunting, schooling, woodworking, and so many more skills lost to today modern world are getting a breath of fresh air.

I am not one to think the modern way is wrong, it's not, in some ways modern ways are far safer than old ways. Knowing both makes you a very adaptable person. Balance is a very hard life to lead. Every person should know their strengths and weaknesses and be able to accept them. Pride can make so many hurdles in life as can dependence. In life their are loners and people who need a village. Each type of person brings knowledge. 

Can you imagine life without what most of us have today? running water? electric? gas? oil? Would you know how to survive? could you survive? I have seen several times what many do in crisis, and it's humbling and make those who know about prepping thankful. Having the knowledge to get by during a challenge in life is a very powerful tool. 

I think of a joke told to me many years ago and it goes something like this:

An old God fearing couple was watching the news one night, when they saw the forecast to evacuate their area due to severe weather headed their way, They held their hands and prayed to God to be saved. As the weather got worse they heard a knock on the door, when they opened the door there stood a police officer telling them to evacuate, they refused and stated "God will save us". The waters flooded their house and they fled to the second story of their home, later a knock on the windows, there was a fireman on a ladder pleading with them to come with him, and again the old couple refused stating "God will save us", Finally they sought refuge in their attic when part the roof came crashing down, in peered a solider, again the old couple refused to leave again stating "God will save us" and they bowed their heads and prayed. The next morning the old couple found themselves standing at the gates of heaven, when the gates opened they asked God why he had not saved them?, He replied "I sent you a police officer, a Fireman, and A Soldier what more did you want?"....

I am sure this is not word for word but the point is sometimes what you need is right in front of you, you just have to be open to the answer.