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Sunday, July 8, 2012

Living the Dream


I've been busy these past few weeks living the American Dream: home repair and improvement.  I mowed my grass on July 4th.  I look at it now and it already needs mowing again.  (audible sigh)  I needed to clean the drain in my bathroom and when I went to unscrew the joint the pipe broke.  It had rusted out.  My house was built in the 1950's and I think that's the last time anybody did something with the pipes.  And, if you've read any of my previous posts, you'll also know that I've had to build a new storage shed and patio area.  It finally is almost finished.  Home ownership is a responsibility.  I certainly could complain, but I'm not. 
This week we celebrated America's 236th birthday.  Now, 236 is young for a country.  We're older than our friends to the north, but across the Pond they have a few years on us. 
 
I'm actually sitting on the swing right now
typing and watching the sunset.   
236 years is plenty of time for thousands to have died so I could get in my truck, run to the hardware store for parts and gas station for fuel, fix my pipe and mow my grass and then take a nap in my hammock.  And I don't have to worry about the authority coming onto my property and arresting me or taking things without either my permission or a good reason written in a warrant. 
I'm grateful for those who fought to give me these freedoms. 
Doesn't leave much room for complaining. 
And yet people do. 
That's another good thing about America.  We have the freedom to complain. 
I have to say I'm happy with my little piece of America. 
I will leave here with my homework poem for Tuesday night.  This week has made me patriotic.


Self-Portrait of an American Woman
My hair is red, my skin is white, my eyes are blue.
My appearance is Irish, my name French
My people came from both those places and many more
 They came by ship, they came by wagon
They came voluntarily and by force.
They fought to form a country
where people could be free.

By birthright I am an American.

My parents were born in Texas.
Their parents were born in Texas, Louisiana, and Illinois.
I was born in Texas, as were my brothers.
I went to grade school in Texas,
 graduated from high school in Louisiana.
I went to McNeese State University
and the University of Texas.

I was made in America.

I went to college compliments of the state of Louisiana
 and repaid her by caring for her children.
I own my home, mow my grass, pay my bills.
I complain about how much a single person is taxed
and pay it gladly for the right to complain.
I protest tyranny, injustice, and the lunacy of the government,
then exercise my right to vote against it.

I earn my right to be an American.

I don’t know the depth of sacrifice
American soldiers pay daily for me to live free,
but I do everything I can to live worthy of it.
I will forever proudly say
I am not Irish-American, nor French-American,
nor African-American nor Japanese-American,
nor any other nationality that exists.

I am simply American.







3 comments:

  1. What a lovely poem. I really like the first two lines and how it wraps back around to them by proclaiming what you aren't and what you are.

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  2. I enjoyed your poem, I got from it that you have a real sense of belonging, thats a good place to be in life.

    Knowing who you are and what you want.

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