My Ramblings

We are currently babysitting an 80 lb. dog named Napolean. He is Heather’s dog and she is needing to adopt him out as they can no longer handle him. He’s half American Staffordshire Terrier (read Pit Bull), one quarter Catahoula, and one quarter McNabb.  We are “trying” to find him a good home. He is 18 months old and is the sweetest little boy. When I say “trying”, I mean that Linda has designs on keeping him as she has loved him since he was born here at our home in April 2012. In fact, his mother, Leela, had him on a blanket behind my chair in the living room. When he came here last week, Linda put a blanket behind my chair so he can sleep on it. It occurs to me that Linda is trying to warm me up to the idea of adopting him.  However, this is not the point of this post. A few minutes ago, Linda asked me if she should give Napolean one of the tennis balls we have here for when Luca and Logan go down to the local high school to learn how to play tennis with Linda. I said, “Sure, wher

I realize that I'm going out on a limb with the following post. It's not something I would have admitted to doing back when it occurred some 28 years ago, but it is a good story and I wanted to share it here. I am not the same person I was when this happened and I owe that to God and my wife. As I am writing this, I happen to be listening to an old Mustard Seed Faith song titled "Sidney the Pirate"which is about a man who was changed by God. Not that I was as bad as the pirate in the song, but a changed man nonetheless. So, here's my story: Randall Roman Juvenile Hall was sometimes a violent place due in part  to the impulsivity and lack of restraint of the minors which resulted in chaotic events. GC’s often broke up verbal and physical altercations, some of which were gang- related, some were sexual assaults, others were just because of perceived slights by one to another or just plain old personality conflicts. There were quite a few suicide attempts. I pe