Don’t Arm Teachers – It’s Not Their Job to Take Down Your Crocodile


Here we are again. Where we shouldn’t be. We will soon approach the point when everyone is tired of arguing. So it will die down…until the next massacre.

I told myself – again – that I would not get sucked into another debate on social media. No one ever seems to “win.” But guess who suffers the casualty of “losing”?

Past and future victims. And that’s why I’ve become Momma Bear. I see myself as those parents who are dying with grief. It CAN happen to me – to my children.

They can’t buy beer, but they can buy an AR-15.

One of my FB friends asked the question that I desperately want a valid answer for – why does ANYONE need an AR-15?

We never got an answer to justify the deaths of children. And it took a looong time to pull out answers. They kept giving garbage about how I would want someone trained with those weapons in the event of an emergency, not some one who barely uses them. I’ve never done any speed shooting, so I don’t “get it.”

Very high and mighty.

At one point, out of frustration, I finally asked, “I don’t know you from Adam. I couldn’t care less how trained you are. I care that our MILITARY is well trained. What do you honestly need training against? Do you think the cast of the Walking Dead are going to break off set to destroy your precious paper targets?”

That was probably too far and earned me the labels of obtuse and silly. But I’d rather be silly and know the value of human life than high and mighty while children are dying.

He tried to quote Reagan to me: “We must reject the idea that every time a law is broken, society is guilty rather than the lawbreaker. It is time to restore the American precept that each individual is accountable for his actions.”

Oh yeah. Real succinct.

So I quoted back and told him to go get eaten by his crocodile. He never posed a solution and admitted that he didn’t have one.

Nevertheless, his crocodile is on the loose and is capable of 45 rounds per minute.

So after my Walking Dead jab, Mr. Don’t Take Away My Toys impressed how important it was for him to defend his property. I never said he couldn’t, just that an AR-15 is not necessary. He said, “You obviously haven’t the slightest clue what stresses the mind goes through in a violent confrontation and the additional stress endured deciding to draw and fire at another human being, especially one that may or may not already be shooting at you.” 

And now we want to arm TEACHERS? I tried to teach high school in Florida. Twice. Like so many others, I burned out because of the stress.

How in the world is that gonna end well?

The way to deal with this crocodile is to take responsibility for it. NRA money is worthless compared to the lives of our children. So let’s stop living in this dystopia. Our children are begging you.

The AR-15 is being called a scapegoat by people like Mr. Don’t Take Away My Toys. I’ve heard it over and over. They can call it a scapegoat. It doesn’t change that fact that there is no other purpose for it than to take LOTS of human lives. That’s what it was designed to do. Using it to defend your home is like using a sledgehammer to put a nail in a wall to hang a picture. Yes, they probably thought that analogy was silly too.

Despite, what they think, I “get it.” I get protecting your home. I get hunting for food and even (though I don’t particularly like it) sport. What I don’t get is why it’s worth losing the lives of children for them to do it with an AR-15.


Guest Posts

Wednesday Welcomes: Felicia Rogers!

Welcome back to Wednesday Welcomes! (Say that five times fast 😉 ) I have the pleasure of sharing with you a new book, just released yesterday by the fabulous Felicia Rogers, Pearl Valley!

Pearl Valley, Wounded Soldiers Series, Book Two

A town plagued by mysterious fires, and two people struggling to find peace.


Trevor Jacobs, ex-navy seal, lost his leg during a military excursion. Not only is he hampered by physical limitations, but he has to suffer the pitying stares of strangers whenever he ventures into the public eye.

Janie Dossett lost her mother to a fire ten years ago, and her life changed forever. Now she shies away from the public, secluding herself in the only place she feels comfortable, her hometown.

When Trevor Jacobs shows up searching for Jane Dossett, Janie doesn’t readily reveal herself. Trevor is seeking something from her, something she doesn’t think she can give.


Buy it Now on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/l4kgzqj
Buy it Now on B&N: http://tinyurl.com/lzqtnat




The ladder stabilized, and she looked down to find a tall man, his head covered in a cowboy hat, holding the ladder in place.

“Come on down, miss. I’ll hold it steady.”

Frozen with fear, it took a few moments for her to move.

He said, “Am I going to have to come up and get you? I can do it, but then I’ll be putting both our lives in the hands of these kids down here, and I don’t think you want me to do that.”

Janie shook her head and slowly descended. When her foot touched the ground, she felt unsteady. She shot her hand out, and it landed on the well-muscled arm of the man before her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, drawing his brows together.

She nodded and closed her eyes as she waited for the stars to disappear. “I’ll be fine if you can just give me a minute.”

She felt the pressure of his hand as he guided her to the bleachers and helped her sit down.

“Place your head between your knees.”

“Are you sure? I mean won’t that make me more dizzy?”

“Are you going to question everything I say?”

Obeying his firm words, Janie placed her head between her knees.

“Now breathe real deep. Give it a few minutes and then lift your head real slow. I’ll be right beside you when you come up.”

The deep breaths calmed her rapid pulse, and when she opened her eyes, the stars were gone. She lifted her head slowly and stared at his face. He smiled, showing a row of perfectly white teeth.

“Do you feel okay?” He’d positioned his arms on either side of her, like in a big hug, so if she toppled in either direction he was ready to catch her. Staring at his face, she found she couldn’t answer.





Pearl Valley is a contemporary suspense romance and the sequel to Diamond Mine. Want to know what readers have said about Diamond Mine?


“Felicia Rogers’ Diamond Mine is an impulsive, adventurous tale of friendship, loyalty and love. This exciting and fast-paced novel will leave you mooning over the characters and yearning for more. I loved every second!” –Chamera Sampson, author and reviewer


“A great read! Real, likable, and relatable characters. I loved this story it was filled with drama, suspense, and love…but there were 2 things that stood out…the 1st was the way Felicia incorporated God into real life it really is more about the way you act not just what you say the 2nd was the bringing to light the real danger of human trafficking that goes on in this world still today that as Americans we are pretty blinded to.” –Danielle Williams, reader


Buy Diamond Mine on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/meusr3o
Buy Diamond Mine on B&N: http://tinyurl.com/m4wkexo





Felicia Rogers

Felicia Rogers is an author of multiple novels and novellas. When she’s not writing, Felicia volunteers with the Girl Scouts of America, teaches at a local homeschooling group, hikes, and spends time with her family.


To find out more information about Felicia Rogers visit the sites below. She loves hearing from her readers.



Website: http://www.feliciarogersauthor.weebly.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FeliciaRogersAuthor

Email: feliciarogersauthor@yahoo.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/feliciarogers


Who Knew My Fingers Have Their Own Brains?

Image attributed to Rama

I’ve been asked to play my harp for my cousin’s upcoming wedding. I greatly admire this cousin who has been highly dedicated in serving in our military. I love my country and so I’d considered joining after I graduated high school, but my parents talked me out of it. It was the only advice of theirs that I regret taking. So agreeing to play for this particular cousin’s wedding was a no-brainer.


The last time I played for any kind of real audience was when I played a wedding while I was pregnant with Charlie. I had horrible morning sickness at the time and I prayed I wouldn’t vomit during the ceremony. Ever since, I’ve been too distracted by family to even do any serious practice, not to mention the fact that a bit of sneaky gluten can now make me feel worse than I did at that last wedding.

But I’ve been feeling great and hopefully no tricky gluten will surprise me between now and then. So I’ve pulled out my harp from the closet, all my old books, and the replacement strings. I fixed the broken string, struggled to tune the harp (because we gave my sister back her piano), and tried to play what I thought I might remember.

In. Credible.

After 3 years, I could still play, from memory, most of my music. For some songs, I only needed to look at the first few notes on the page, but then I was off. It wasn’t perfect, rather like a rusty music box, but I still played!

It was like my fingers have little brains of their own. While I was busy running after the boys, my fingers were still holding on to their dances, remembering their choreography with the strings. I love muscle memory! I know I can easily have my music polished by the Big Day. 😀

Have you ever thought you’d forgotten a skill and realized you never forgot at all? Have you tried again?