It's Alexander Scourby. Not Scorby. And finding his picture on Google, he looks nothing like what his voice led me to imagine. I think to listen to the whole Bible takes 80-some hours. Less than 4 days. Pretty impressive, huh?

I'm hoping my fingers don't find Google tonight and punch in Barbara Billingsley. Last night on Yahoo I started reading comments. I was looking for the spot where I had left off last time. The spot never showed. I read all 481 comments. But it was time well spent. I have discovered that I am not the only person who believes mothers, if possible, are better off trying to run the home and not distributing their resources too thin(ly).

My favorite comment was a man who said back when he was a kid he would have run through fire with gasoline pants, just to not miss an episode of Leave It To Beaver. Something like that.

The bottom line is, Barbara Billingsley/June Cleaver charmed the world. She is hands down the favorite TV mom of all time. And that's saying something because she had some pretty stiff competition. Almost everyone is yearning for those simple times when common courtesy and a good dinner on the table were the chief objectives in life. I could live with that, couldn't you?

The other day AOL had a fantastic article on a new problem facing young adults. Homelessness. Some 2 million of them. There was a video of this young man who was homeless, had a horrible upbringing ("I loved my mom but she didn't love me back, really") and suffers with kidney malfunction. Oh, brother. He lived through adults on drugs, abuse, shuffled from home to home, the whole ball of wax.

This not only made me weep, but got me to thinking about fostering children. It's a thought I've carried through the years, but sometimes I forget about it. So, I texted my sister to read this AOL article, which was a nice change from their usual drivel.

She said, Funny, but just this morning I was thinking of fostering children. Then she said she and our mother had talked recently about this lady my mom knows who has fostered many children over the years.

I showed Mike the article. He says I can't take in a foster child until I lead a normal schedule for a year. Rats. But it's uncomfortable to sit by in a nice house and all I need and more when there are 18 year old kids roaming the streets after aging out of foster care.

Well, then, you know, I went to get my blood work done the other day, right after all this foster talk. Remember, but they didn't take my blood work. The point is, when one of those women came up to the desk, she announced to the other woman that she was sorry to take so long but she was handling a call on foster care. WHAT? Those were the first words I heard her speak. She is becoming a foster parent, taking a neighbor's foster kid because of various problems. I couldn't believe it. I read the AOL, talked to my sister who wants to foster, and then a complete stranger says FOSTER. What does it all mean? It has to mean something! I also have a notice posted on my fridge for several months. It was from the church bulletin, FOSTER PARENTS NEEDED. It gives all the info to get started.

Well, the blood work woman started telling me way more than I wanted to know. She kept saying, Now don't tell on me, will you? I think she took one look at me and didn't think I looked fit to foster. You have to be tough. You have to be mean. See, she is taking in a 17 year old boy. But she can handle it 'cause she grew up rough, she knows the speak. I assured her I had no intention of taking a wild and crazy teenager, that I would take a small well behaved child. Ha, ha.

Now, I do have some experience with foster children. Granted, not very much. Two hours a week at AWANA for a year and a half. Several foster children. This one family of 3 siblings, whoa, the girls were so sullen and angry, and only 3 and 4 years old. But they had excellent foster parents and their whole demeanor changed within a few months. The foster parents adopted all three kids, it was a beautiful story.

I'm not saying I will ever actually foster. But I am saying, What can I do? What can we do? We can go into the public schools after hours and teach the Bible through CEF Clubs. We can financially support underprivileged children. We can get involved in countless other organizations and mentor and tutor. Which reminds me, I used to mentor a child, need to get back on it. BTW, that was quite a chapter in my life. Nothing like a unique and lively child to shake up your status quo. Fortunately, I wrote down a lot of things that were said/happened, both with this child and in AWANA. Priceless stuff. I think CDW was the main recipient of that literature. HA!

Oh brother, when I was at the vet for Jazzi's ears to be lasered (yes, you heard that correctly), I read a brochure that said you shouldn't kiss your pets. I'm doomed.

Okay, Quik Chik. I have to be in the mood. I wasn't tonight. Maybe tomorrow? My mom asked me the name of the place I ate in Folkston, GA. 'Cause I raved so about the 8 layer cake they might just pass that way when they drive down to FL. Somehow, I don't think this little joint will spin my mother's wheels. She will need to wear blinders and focus on the cake.

Cakey KEM