Forty years ago (oh that makes me feel old), Neil Armstrong stepped foot on the moon. Seven years before that, President Kennedy made a speech in Houston, Texas. The only part of that speech we seem to hear about is one small  part of a paragraph.

There was a lot more to that speech and it’s worth the time to read the whole thing:

We choose to go to the Moon speech by John F. Kennedy

We meet at a college noted for knowledge, in a city noted for progress, in a state noted for strength, and we stand in need of all three, for we meet in an hour of change and challenge, in a decade of hope and fear, in an age of both knowledge and ignorance. The greater our knowledge increases, the greater our ignorance unfolds.

Despite the striking fact that most of the scientists that the world has ever known are alive and working today, despite the fact that this Nation’s own scientific manpower is doubling every 12 years in a rate of growth more than three times that of our population as a whole, despite that, the vast stretches of the unknown and the unanswered and the unfinished still far outstrip our collective comprehension.

No man can fully grasp how far and how fast we have come, but condense, if you will, the 50,000 years of man’s recorded history in a time span of but a half-century. Stated in these terms, we know very little about the first 40 years, except at the end of them advanced man had learned to use the skins of animals to cover them. Then about 10 years ago, under this standard, man emerged from his caves to construct other kinds of shelter. Only five years ago man learned to write and use a cart with wheels. Christianity began less than two years ago. The printing press came this year, and then less than two months ago, during this whole 50-year span of human history, the steam engine provided a new source of power. Newton explored the meaning of gravity. Last month electric lights and telephones and automobiles and airplanes became available. Only last week did we develop penicillin and television and nuclear power, and now if America’s new spacecraft succeeds in reaching Venus, we will have literally reached the stars before midnight tonight.

This is a breathtaking pace, and such a pace cannot help but create new ills as it dispels old, new ignorance, new problems, new dangers. Surely the opening vistas of space promise high costs and hardships, as well as high reward.

So it is not surprising that some would have us stay where we are a little longer to rest, to wait. But this city of Houston, this state of Texas, this country of the United States was not built by those who waited and rested and wished to look behind them. This country was conquered by those who moved forward–and so will space.

William Bradford, speaking in 1630 of the founding of the Plymouth Bay Colony, said that all great and honorable actions are accompanied with great difficulties, and both must be enterprised and overcome with answerable courage.

If this capsule history of our progress teaches us anything, it is that man, in his quest for knowledge and progress, is determined and cannot be deterred. The exploration of space will go ahead, whether we join in it or not, and it is one of the great adventures of all time, and no nation which expects to be the leader of other nations can expect to stay behind in this race for space.

Those who came before us made certain that this country rode the first waves of the industrial revolution, the first waves of modern invention, and the first wave of nuclear power, and this generation does not intend to founder in the backwash of the coming age of space. We mean to be a part of it–we mean to lead it. For the eyes of the world now look into space, to the moon and to the planets beyond, and we have vowed that we shall not see it governed by a hostile flag of conquest, but by a banner of freedom and peace. We have vowed that we shall not see space filled with weapons of mass destruction, but with instruments of knowledge and understanding.

Yet the vows of this Nation can only be fulfilled if we in this Nation are first, and, therefore, we intend to be first. In short, our leadership in science and industry, our hopes for peace and security, our obligations to ourselves as well as others, all require us to make this effort, to solve these mysteries, to solve them for the good of all men, and to become the world’s leading space-faring nation.

We set sail on this new sea because there is new knowledge to be gained, and new rights to be won, and they must be won and used for the progress of all people. For space science, like nuclear science and all technology, has no conscience of its own. Whether it will become a force for good or ill depends on man, and only if the United States occupies a position of pre-eminence can we help decide whether this new ocean will be a sea of peace or a new terrifying theater of war. I do not say that we should or will go unprotected against the hostile misuse of space any more than we go unprotected against the hostile use of land or sea, but I do say that space can be explored and mastered without feeding the fires of war, without repeating the mistakes that man has made in extending his writ around this globe of ours.

There is no strife, no prejudice, no national conflict in outer space as yet. Its hazards are hostile to us all. Its conquest deserves the best of all mankind, and its opportunity for peaceful cooperation many never come again. But why, some say, the moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask why climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic? Why does Rice play Texas?

We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too.

It is for these reasons that I regard the decision last year to shift our efforts in space from low to high gear as among the most important decisions that will be made during my incumbency in the office of the Presidency.

In the last 24 hours we have seen facilities now being created for the greatest and most complex exploration in man’s history. We have felt the ground shake and the air shattered by the testing of a Saturn C-1 booster rocket, many times as powerful as the Atlas which launched John Glenn, generating power equivalent to 10,000 automobiles with their accelerators on the floor. We have seen the site where five F-1 rocket engines, each one as powerful as all eight engines of the Saturn combined, will be clustered together to make the advanced Saturn missile, assembled in a new building to be built at Cape Canaveral as tall as a 48 story structure, as wide as a city block, and as long as two lengths of this field.

Within these last 19 months at least 45 satellites have circled the earth. Some 40 of them were made in the United States of America and they were far more sophisticated and supplied far more knowledge to the people of the world than those of the Soviet Union.

The Mariner spacecraft now on its way to Venus is the most intricate instrument in the history of space science. The accuracy of that shot is comparable to firing a missile from Cape Canaveral and dropping it in this stadium between the 40-yard lines.

Transit satellites are helping our ships at sea to steer a safer course. Tiros satellites have given us unprecedented warnings of hurricanes and storms, and will do the same for forest fires and icebergs.

We have had our failures, but so have others, even if they do not admit them. And they may be less public.

To be sure, we are behind, and will be behind for some time in manned flight. But we do not intend to stay behind, and in this decade, we shall make up and move ahead.

The growth of our science and education will be enriched by new knowledge of our universe and environment, by new techniques of learning and mapping and observation, by new tools and computers for industry, medicine, the home as well as the school. Technical institutions, such as Rice, will reap the harvest of these gains.

And finally, the space effort itself, while still in its infancy, has already created a great number of new companies, and tens of thousands of new jobs. Space and related industries are generating new demands in investment and skilled personnel, and this city and this state, and this region, will share greatly in this growth. What was once the furthest outpost on the old frontier of the West will be the furthest outpost on the new frontier of science and space. Houston, your city of Houston, with its Manned Spacecraft Center, will become the heart of a large scientific and engineering community. During the next 5 years the National Aeronautics and Space Administration expects to double the number of scientists and engineers in this area, to increase its outlays for salaries and expenses to $60 million a year; to invest some $200 million in plant and laboratory facilities; and to direct or contract for new space efforts over $1 billion from this center in this city.

To be sure, all this costs us all a good deal of money. This year’s space budget is three times what it was in January 1961, and it is greater than the space budget of the previous eight years combined. That budget now stands at $5,400 million a year–a staggering sum, though somewhat less than we pay for cigarettes and cigars every year. Space expenditures will soon rise some more, from 40 cents per person per week to more than 50 cents a week for every man, woman and child in the United States, for we have given this program a high national priority–even though I realize that this is in some measure an act of faith and vision, for we do not now know what benefits await us. But if I were to say, my fellow citizens, that we shall send to the moon, 240,000 miles away from the control station in Houston, a giant rocket more than 300 feet tall, the length of this football field, made of new metal alloys, some of which have not yet been invented, capable of standing heat and stresses several times more than have ever been experienced, fitted together with a precision better than the finest watch, carrying all the equipment needed for propulsion, guidance, control, communications, food and survival, on an untried mission, to an unknown celestial body, and then return it safely to earth, re-entering the atmosphere at speeds of over 25,000 miles per hour, causing heat about half that of the temperature of the sun–almost as hot as it is here today–and do all this, and do it right, and do it first before this decade is out–then we must be bold.

I’m the one who is doing all the work, so we just want you to stay cool for a minute. [laughter]

However, I think we’re going to do it, and I think that we must pay what needs to be paid. I don’t think we ought to waste any money, but I think we ought to do the job. And this will be done in the decade of the Sixties. It may be done while some of you are still here at school at this college and university. It will be done during the terms of office of some of the people who sit here on this platform. But it will be done. And it will be done before the end of this decade.

And I am delighted that this university is playing a part in putting a man on the moon as part of a great national effort of the United States of America.

Many years ago the great British explorer George Mallory, who was to die on Mount Everest, was asked why did he want to climb it. He said, “Because it is there.”

Well, space is there, and we’re going to climb it, and the moon and the planets are there, and new hopes for knowledge and peace are there. And, therefore, as we set sail we ask God’s blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked.

Unfortunately, President Kennedy never saw the culmination of his dream but we did do it. Forty years ago.

The other day I read a thought provoking post over at the Internet Monk where he decries the way “[w]orship is now a major audience event, led by skilled entertainers, aimed at a demographic and judged by the audience reaction.” He goes on to assert:

Worship has now become a musical term. Praise and worship means music. Let’s worship means the band will play. We need to give more time to worship doesn’t mean silent prayer or public scripture reading or any kind of participatory liturgy. It means music.

After I read this post, I went away and pondered what I read and I disagree with him about the music is used as a form of worship.

I have always liked the formal liturgy that is used in Catholic and Anglican churches. There is a certain stately measure in the more formal worship service that appeals to the OCD part of my nature. It’s also the form of worship I grew up with in the Conservative Baptist church my family were members of. But there is another part of me that is drawn to music as worship.

There are seven references in Psalms about worship through songs. All of them refer to music as a “joyful noise.” I like that term. It doesn’t say “joyful harmony” so don’t worry about being able to carry a tune! Two of the references in particular point to music as a form of worship:

Psalm 95:2
Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving, and make a joyful noise unto him with psalms.

Psalm 98:4
Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise.

Have you ever been to a Southern Baptist or Full Gospel (Pentecostal) church service? They really know how to make a joyful noise! If you allow yourself to get completely caught up in the joyful singing, you can be raised up to a place where all your burdens, distress, unhappiness, and all the other negative thoughts and feelings drop away.

I can’t think of a better way to place all your burdens in God’s hands – submission, acknowledgment,  praise, and adoration all wrapped up in music. So make a joyful noise –in church, at home, in your car… turn up the music and sing along at the top of your lungs. It’s good for body, mind and soul.

I have just spent a great week with my family in Sacramento. My oldest grandchild and only granddaughter just graduated high school and that’s something a grandma just has to be there for. My son and his family flew in from Illinois. This is the first time in the three years we have been living in Maine that I have seen my family.

I also had the marvelous opportunity to see one of my best and oldest friends. We met when her youngest son and my only son were about 6 months old. Her birthday is the same as my daughter’s and we are only a few months apart in age. We lost touch with each other a long time ago. Recently I just happened to “google” her and found an email address. Now she is on Facebook and we will make sure we stay connected.

So. Here I sit in the airport waiting for my plane. I’m wishing I had paid more attention to my return itinerary because I would have changed it. I fly out of Sac at 6:00 heading to Phoenix. In Phoenix I change planes with a 2 hour layover. (!?!?!?!?!?) But wait. It gets better. I leave Phoenix for Boston at about 9:20 this evening arriving in Boston at around 5:30 am. Then I get to hang around Logan for three hours leaving for home at 8:40 am. (?!?!?!?!?!?!) What WAS I thinking??????

I think I will go get something to munch on and to drink. I am trying my best to avoid the Cinnabon kiosk but I’m not sure I’ll make it…

My daughter has a heart big as California where she lives. She has done the most courageous and selfless thing I’ve ever seen her do. In spite of her aching heart, she knows she has done the right thing by letting the love of her life walk away instead of asking him to be something he’s not. It’s natural to think of all the “what ifs” in a situation like this, but thinking like that doesn’t  change the present. My beautiful daughter, let yourself grieve for your loss, but know that your heart will heal. And never lose hope that love is out there.

Employees at Chrysler’s Kenosha Engine Plant are upset because Chrysler is closing the plant and moving operations to Mexico. No one likes to see jobs lost – especially when the jobs are outsourced. But…

Many years ago, unions brought about some important changes in labor that protected laborers from abusive treatment by employers. However, I firmly believe (and so does my democrat husband) that labor unions are now redundant and detrimental to American business. American manufacturers can no longer afford American workers – especially unionized workers – so they are taking their plants outside the country to places with cheap labor. The thing is, what’s cheap to us can be wealth to the workers hired in other countries.

I can’t help but wonder how long it will be before the unions realize they have bitten the hands that feed them one too many times.

When Brad asked me to marry him, I told him I was barely domesticated so don’t expect me to be domestic.  His response was I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself. I, on the other hand, like to manage the finances. (Except when they look bleak.) Brad hates to do the bill paying bank reconciling ad nauseum.  A marriage made in heaven, right?

Since our move to Maine I am now doing a little more around the house because I don’t have to punch a time clock. But I still hate to do housework and it shows sometimes – like now. It’s amazing how much dirt and dust I can tolerate before I give in and clean. I did clean in the bedroom after about a year of dust bunnies. Yes. A year. Brad is still confined to his recliner because of his shoulder so when he cleans house he never goes in there. Out of sight out of mind I guess.

It’s now been four weeks since his shoulder replacement surgery. He is doing remarkably well and now only wears the sling when he’s up and about – like right now… As I’m typing… vacuuming the carpet in Soho. It’s a light canister with an upright carpet attachment. But still. Four weeks. Should I feel guilty?

Nah. It was his choice and he’ll stop if it hurts. I think I’ll go see if it’s dry enough outside to go play in the gardens.

My daughter is my keeper of all dates important.  So I get a message on Facebook from her yesterday asking if I called Jesse on Thursday.  To say Happy Birthday.  Ummm, I forgot?  Actually, I knew it was his birthday, but I got distracted.  Not an excuse; an explanation.

There are certain milestones that track our passage through time.  Births, marriages, deaths… and certain birthdays.  I hit one of the birthday ones last year when Jesse turned 30.  (I am not old!!!!!)  I probably didn’t acknowledge that birthday either (probably because of that… number.  On Jesse’s 26th birthday I wrote a post dedicated to him. I would like to re-post it here.  It’s all the same, he’s just a little older. Sos… here goes…

Jesse was climbing his way out of his playpen almost before he could walk and figured out how to get out of his crib shortly after that. We moved into a house with hardwood floors when he was 2 1/2 and I quickly decided to put him in a regular bed so he wouldn’t crack his skull letting go from the top of the crib.

Jesse spent his toddler years decorating the walls with crayons and discovering what items would NOT flush down the toilet. We had to pull up the toilet in the hall bathroom three times in one year because the items that tried to go down got so thoroughly stuck in the neck that pulling the toilet was the only way to get them out.

After that, Jesse discovered matches. He tested them out on some grass outside – fortunately the flames didn’t touch the house six inches or so away. He and his sister even tried playing with matches in his bedroom closet. I still shudder to think… another time he decided that the hallway from the living room to his bedroom would make a great bowling alley. Unfortunately, the ball didn’t stop until it had gone into the wall. We had a vibrating recliner in the living room. While it was plugged into the wall, he decided to cut the cord “just to see what would happen.” He managed to break the circuit, ruin the cord AND the scissors. He didn’t hurt himself only because the scissors had rubber shielded handles!

When he was in the third grade, Jesse’s science project was about the life cycle of the frog. He paid a visit to the field at the end of our street and collected a number of small toads that he put in a jar. As a “late bird,” he started class an hour later than the “early birds.” When the “early birds” got out for recess, he was waiting at the door with his jar and began generously passing out the toads to his classmates. When his teacher told me the tale, she said she was able to rescue all but two of the poor little toads.

Fortunately very shortly after that, Jesse became involved with Little League and found a new (and healthier) outlet for his energy. And he discovered girls. A running joke while he was in high school that every dance picture was with a different girl. There was only one exception — and he married her.

Now my baby is *gasp* 31 and has two sons of his own who look like they are going to be as great a challenge for his parents as his father was for me. Jesse has turned into a fine, responsible young man and I am immensely proud of him.

Happy birthday, my son.

We are experiencing a good long spring rain.  The kind of rain that finishes melting snow, greens the grass and waters the gardens to wake up the flowers.

I lived across the border in what is now called Aroostook Village from 1956 to 1958 and  I still have a few memories of that time.  In our climate here we get summer rains and often it’s still warm enough to remain outside (especially if you are a kid).  My childhood playmate back then was my cousin, Karen, who lived about a mile or so south of our grandmother’s house where I was living.  I would walk down to play with her and we would go up behind her house to play in an abandoned homestead.  It provided us with shelter when it rained and I can remember singing:

It’s raining, it’s pouring
The old man is snoring
Bumped his head and went to bed
And couldn’t get up in the morning

Another time we got caught outside in a thunderstorm.  Karen’s cousin, Doug, lived just up the hill from my grandmother’s and we often played anywhere and everywhere in between.  This particular time we got wet and I smelled something… it was me and it kind of smelled like something burning… Doug said I had been hit by lightning – what did I know?  I was only six!  I ran home crying and hid under my grandmother’s kitchen table.  When asked why I was scared I repeated what Doug had said.  The grownups just laughed indulgently and told me I was smelling my wet woolen sweater.  But ever since I have been terrified by thunder and lightning.

I was raised in a conservative home ­– religious and political. However, I’ve noticed that the older I get the more moderate (and Libertarian) I become. My opinion regarding separation of Church and State (note the capital letters) is probably at odds with many in my family. Most of the arguments in the debate on separation are from non-believers (in Christianity) and are, for the most part, rather extreme in their desire to keep public institutions completely secular. I am on the other side of that argument. I believe that governing and politics should be kept out of the pulpit.

In my opinion, Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson and other like-minded Christian leaders have done more harm than good in their attempts to promote a political agenda that can be construed as legislating morality.  If they were to be successful in creating a government that adhered to the platform of the Moral Majority Coalition, would that government be any different than Iran’s Islamic government?

We live in a secular society governed by secular laws. Respecting and obeying those laws is no different than respecting and obeying God’s laws.  Part of being a Christian is to also be a good citizen.  I don’t even have a real problem with the Moral Majority Coalition – I just don’t want to see politics preached from a pulpit where Christ’s teachings should be paramount.

Considering the eternity we will be able to spend in Heaven, our time here on earth is rather fleeting. I think it’s more important to be a “beacon of light” to those around me than to “play politics” with my faith.

We are in what I refer to as weather purgatory.  It’s something you only experience when you live in a location where there are four distinct seasons – and the transitions between seasons.  The ugliest of those transitions is the one between winter and spring.

The Vernal Equinox may be in March but up here in northern Maine, spring hasn’t really gained a foothold yet. Weather “purgatory” is that time when the snow hasn’t quite finished melting leaving dirty white patches here and there looking like pimples on the ground.  The leafless trees stand stark against the sky and the lawns are a dreary brown.

Don’t despair.  Here and there you can see signs of new life:

First Crocus