The Day Before Thanksgiving by tallpindo ()
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This is my dedication Fred255 for his birthday. What finer presentation than a piece of ordnance. This one in French colors as ordered by General Washington and made as one of three from a heavier piece of the same shot. Holy Redeemer may be a place to hold the ceremony so that it spans the birth of a Sovereign's child and also the Colony.
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Cool dedi and cool job here, 5+++) Hug's Ute Lyrics: My Thanksgiving, Don Henley A lot of things have happened Since the last time we spoke Some of them are funny Some of 'em ain't no joke And I trust you will forgive me If I lay it on the line I always thought you were a friend of mine Sometimes I think about you I wonder how you're doing now And what you're going through The last time I saw you We were playing with fire We were loaded with passion And a burning desire For every breath, for every day of living And this is my Thanksgiving Now the trouble with you and me, my friend Is the trouble with this nation Too many blessings, too little appreciation And I know that kind of notion—well, it just ain't cool So send me back to Sunday school Because I'm tired of waiting for reason to arrive It's too long we've been living [ Find more Lyrics at www.mp3lyrics.org/MvO ] These unexamined lives I've got great expectations I've got family and friends I've got satisfying work I've got a back that bends For every breath, for every day of living This is my Thanksgiving Have you noticed that an angry man Can only get so far Until he reconciles the way he thinks things ought to be With the way things are Here in this fragmented world, I still believe In learning how to give love, and how to receive it And I would not be among those who abuse this privilege Sometimes you get the best light from a burning bridge And I don't mind saying that I still love it all I wallowed in the springtime Now I'm welcoming the fall For every moment of joy Every hour of fear For every winding road that brought me here For every breath, for every day of living This is my Thanksgiving For everyone who helped me start And for everything that broke my heart For every breath, for every day of living This is my Thanksgiving
Khrushchev when a younger man, and throughout his life, had a real enthusiasm for metal work, in which skills, as a factory worker, he had early struggled to advance and be trained. Later he sincerely sought to get a degree in engineering but never got the time, though he started. Even Montefiore, who does not underestimate Khrushchev (as almost everyone else did, and still does) makes nothing of how that might have influenced, in some way hidden from outer speech, Khrushchev's genuine respect for Stalin,"the Man of Steel", even after Stalin's death when he was criticizing him and even in his memoirs, written when he was out of power and when he could easily have lied and said something else more politically correct at the time. Interestingly enough, Dzugashvili did not consider himself Stalin, a point Montefiore nicely notes. When his son exclaimed in some quarrel with the old man, "I am a Stalin too!", Stalin replied, "No. You are not Stalin. Even I am not Stalin!". Lincoln, a tall man who made himself taller with a stovepipe hat and positioned himself to be seen as outstanding in every crowd, followed the new technique of photography and masterfully regulated both his own image and that of the war in Northern newspapers. Apparently he and those around him did think him Lincoln. As did Booth. There's some very ominous and foreboding premonition of Walt Disney in all that.