tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73835883908218494602024-03-13T15:40:29.929-04:00Lena's Giftslenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-86707074622205532672012-10-20T20:30:00.000-04:002012-10-21T13:42:38.559-04:00Legacy<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Approaching old(er) age, many of us consider what we have accomplished during our past decades. For me, as for many others who have been lucky enough or who have made the choice, my children are the finest part of my life, and they are my pride.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Karl Pohrt, with his wife Dianne, can also be proud to be the parents of two lovely, kind and generous daughters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In addition, however, Karl did not wait until even middle age to create and leave another extraordinary legacy. Shaman Drum Bookshop was born more than three decades ago. This beautiful store was lovingly designed and shaped and stocked, becoming one of the handful of the best of the best independent book stores in the United States. I remember Karl walking through the store, explaining the architectural choices he made and his decisions for the design of the store that lent it to becoming a repository for the best browsing space in town and that also allowed for the community aspects of Karl's vision to be realized. It was not only a community of scholars, with nearby University of Michigan professors celebrating </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">upon the publication of a new book </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">with readings, wine, poetry and gatherings, but it was a community of booksellers, both internally and externally. There are few who worked at the store who don't feel that it was a time of making friendships that don't end, of learning from others, of storing memories that are not forgotten.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was with heavy heart when the doors closed, and I still will not enter the old space re-configured to the changing times into such ugliness it is painful to see, nor can I even walk by without physically being hit by the sadness resulting from what was so beautiful being supplanted by what is so ordinary.</span><br />
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<i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">from the 2008 Shaman Drum Bookshop </i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Catalogue</i></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hjWB8vo1sc0/UIM0ItP2lyI/AAAAAAAABTU/uCPatJ-HDEo/s1600/catalog+2008+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hjWB8vo1sc0/UIM0ItP2lyI/AAAAAAAABTU/uCPatJ-HDEo/s1600/catalog+2008+copy.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And yet, when I think of my own memories of Shaman Drum, I realize the extent to which so many others over the twenty-nine years of its existence have equally strong memories of their own. Now I think of this extraordinary gift as </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">equivalent to the sand painting produced with care and consciousness by Tibetan monks. The space and the heritage was </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">created by the efforts and determination of a single man. The creation blessed others in the process. It </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">emanated lessons and strength to those who were able to be witnesses, and it remains vividly in the memories of those of us who were strongly affected. I express my deep gratitude to the man who made it possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is an extraordinary legacy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>I wish to include here a beautiful poem written by my colleague at Shaman Drum,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Stephen Smith,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>also with loving gratitude to Karl Pohrt</i></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Change.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Exist.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Change. Changing. A cockroach in the morning
perhaps.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Descend a flight of stairs.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Ascend a flight of stairs.</span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Daddy's Home"</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Burst of love-smile.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">A defined parameter of sand in the glass.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Measure. We humans can measure nearly everything.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">"Observable Universe"</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I observe.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">You Friend.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Mentor, Father, Guide, Teacher.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I felt your pride in me welling up tonight.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">You shaped me, sculpting, then urging me on.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I talked about floorboards.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Damn if you were not mine. My foundation.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">How do you pay that debt back?</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">How?</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Change is the constant. Adapt. Alter. Move.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I want to strangle your cancer.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">You will never let me hand you any credit.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Nature is so red in tooth and claw.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Stephen Smith October 13, 2012</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Finally, this link goes to Karl's blog and his beautiful words expressed recently,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>also repeated here below.</i></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.thereisnogap.com/2012/10/nine-deep-bows-to-life-and-death.html" style="line-height: normal; text-align: start;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">http://www.thereisnogap.com/2012/10/nine-deep-bows-to-life-and-death.html</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Friday, October 12, 2012</span></h2>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.thereisnogap.com/2012/10/nine-deep-bows-to-life-and-death.html" style="background-color: transparent; color: #88bb22; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;">Nine deep bows to life and death</a></span></h3>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">It was a difficult summer. I've been trying to shake what I thought was a very persistent case of laryngetis. Unfortunately I just learned I have anaplastic thyroid cancer, which is rare, agressive and lethal. It usually runs its course quickly. Of course, I'm doing everything my doctors tell me to do. I'm also rereading Chuang-tzu. I especially admire his descriptions of the ancient Daoist sages:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>They received life as a gift</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>and handed it back gratefully.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Minds supple, faces serene,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>in a crisis cool as autumn,</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>in relationships warm as spring....</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>There was no limit to their freedom.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">So I'm trying not to waste my energy leaning away from this. I am tired, but I remain in good spirits. Please keep my family in your thoughts and prayers.</span></div>
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<span class="post-author vcard">Posted by<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="fn">Karl</span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> Pohrt</span></span><span class="post-timestamp"><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span><a class="timestamp-link" href="http://www.thereisnogap.com/2012/10/nine-deep-bows-to-life-and-death.html" rel="bookmark" style="background-color: transparent; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #669922; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;" title="permanent link"><abbr class="published" style="border: none;" title="2012-10-12T17:35:00-07:00"> </abbr></a></span></div>
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</span>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-65564104555212007952011-03-28T19:12:00.001-04:002011-03-28T19:13:33.397-04:00hello darkness my old friend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XJk366IApyI/TZES3LUOZWI/AAAAAAAABS4/ikb3gyQ5Uik/s1600/perigee+moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XJk366IApyI/TZES3LUOZWI/AAAAAAAABS4/ikb3gyQ5Uik/s1600/perigee+moon.jpg" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">Earth Hour 2011</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">No lights on for an hour. Illuminating my way through my rooms with a beautiful candle made for me by the young sweet Amelia. Feeling embraced by the darkness inside and outside my home and across the world. All we needed to do is turn off our electric lights.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">How much of what we have is so much more than is needed. Too much light. Too much noise. Too much tv. Too many papers and boxes and books and <i>things.</i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The quiet and the darkness allow me to consider what I do have, and what are my true needs. To be with family, in spirit when not in person. To be healthy. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The tragedy at Fukushima and throughout the Sendai area, now the poisons that are seeping to harm many more. But mostly the devastation from the initial earthquake's tsunami is what has affected me so deeply. To lose everything, every piece of furniture, every part of one's home, and, most especially, to lose family members, neighbors, the entire town itself. All gone, in an instant.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And then to begin again. From one's own being, one's own life.<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></span></span></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-79530108462603519942011-03-13T09:59:00.018-04:002011-04-14T17:18:57.307-04:00earthquake & tsunami in japan<div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ziSgR3hSk2c/TXzJQN2eShI/AAAAAAAABSw/cxl5aSzTbQA/s1600/clip_image002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" q6="true" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ziSgR3hSk2c/TXzJQN2eShI/AAAAAAAABSw/cxl5aSzTbQA/s1600/clip_image002.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">The Russians of Pavel Lebedev-Lastochkin in Japan, </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">with their ships tossed inland by a tsunami, </span></i><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">meeting Japanese in 1779.</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My son is in touch with people on his Papa's street who say that now water is becoming scarce, electricity is being rationed, rolling blackouts are in place. There are food shortages in the stores. There are aftershocks every 30 minutes. And this is Tokyo, as opposed to the Sendai area where there is completely terrible devastation and now radiation leaks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> K<span style="font-size: small;">ohei opened Skype on the first morning and reached his aunt by an old phone number, a landline that has been connected at the location, even with completely rebuilt houses, since the 1960's. She was amazed to hear his voice all the way from America, since the majority of cell phone connections in Japan were not working!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS;"> <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"> My daughter and I also reached family and friends quickly and those friends were in touch with others. We learned of family members staying overnight at their offices because of the trains immediately stopping. Others walked for many hours, 4 hours, 7 hours, to return to their homes. My son wrote on his own facebook page remembering the stories learned when he went to high school in Japan of the every-one-hundred-year tsumani.</span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When disaster strikes the first thing needed is to be in touch with close family and to know where everyone is, even if we can't be physically close to each other. What is amazing in the past generation or two is the amount of technology that allows us to contact so many within such a short period, minutes sometimes, or, at the most, a few hours</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> I remember my Japanese exchange sister living with us when I was a senior in high school and in a whole year of living in the United States she talked with her mother once for exactly 3 minutes only, on New Year's Day. I remember that it cost $25, a huge amount at that time. She didn't talk with her again until she was back in Japan. Many letters of course, and care packages every few months of Japanese foods...but it was a very different time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The news from Sendai is horrific, much worse than we originally heard, but Tokyo with good planning and an incredible 1 minute warning system with texts to phones allowed people to take precautions, for trains to be halted, for production lines to be stopped. </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">NHK TV broadcast streaming was also enabled for all cellphones. In spite of the thousands who are missing and feared dead in Japan, </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">without these systems in place, </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">there would be many thousands more who would not be so </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">amazingly spared.</span> Still, there continue to be </span> frightening aftershocks and many people were scared to fall asleep after the first day.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> I know the Japanese government is mobilizing with great care, and there are international rescue teams who have arrived in Japan, including from New Zealand's own recent disaster. I am amazed and </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">admiring of these supporting individuals who use their talents to help others far away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For the people who walked hours to return home,the Family Mart stores (like 7-11s) opened their employee bathrooms for all the walkers and gave away free water for the people passing by. There has been no pushing, no looting even in Fukushima Prefecture, where the now homeless residents line up and wait patiently for the government water and supplies. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">One family member was travelling in Asia, and he returned on Sunday, two days after the 8.9 magnitude quake. His next-door brother and nephew and downstairs neighbor had come to the house and cleaned up the initial mess (the house completely intact, well built by the earthquake standards, and this area was not affected by the raging tsunami), but glass dishes had fallen out of cabinets and broken, and many table top items were all over the floor. He wrote:</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tonight I do not feel to clean up more. Small glasses are still everywhere. So I have to put slippers. Before I came back, Otsune Ojisan and Kazutami came to the house and cleanup. However I still have to work many things. I do feel not to work today. I just watch TV and go to sleep</span>.</i></span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> He mentioned that valued Chinese medicinal liqueurs containing healing snakes had broken, so the floor smelled of liquor. His brother who cleaned up before he returned gathered up the snakes and put them in a dish at the end of his bed. He was debating whether to eat the snakes or give them a grand ceremonial burial.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So many emotions to hear of this disaster and to watch the specific and individual many tragedies. Always the solace in gathering with our closest, and of hearing of the safety of those who are across the globe.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <img border="0" height="320" q6="true" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PIF69bM0G5s/TXzPe_mPaXI/AAAAAAAABS0/OnOEefmT8BY/s320/after+earthquake.jpg" width="240" /> <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">after the earthquake</span></i></div><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-8690131327503424562010-12-20T18:18:00.003-05:002010-12-20T18:21:00.335-05:00tonight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/TQ_jrZYjY_I/AAAAAAAABSM/2NsPS1JO_0o/s1600/eclipse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/TQ_jrZYjY_I/AAAAAAAABSM/2NsPS1JO_0o/s320/eclipse.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Courtesy of NPR - photograph by Karim Jaafar/AFP/Getty Image</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;">Walking home, a young man, who lives on my street, told me that Constantinople fell on a winter solstice lunar eclipse, among many other significant events.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I wonder what will happen tonight.</span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></span></span>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-37423611212334240882010-09-05T09:48:00.002-04:002010-09-05T09:52:15.856-04:00new technology, a little joke from my little iphone<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After two months enjoying!!! my new iphone, I was working at my regular desk top computer, looking at a page on the web.</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The screen display font was too small, so I reached over to the screen and with the spreading fingers motion, tried to enlarge the item I was viewing. I was startled that nothing happened, then burst out laughing at the transfer of expectation to the (now old) computer technology.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /> </span></span></span></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-49978737373072158852010-09-05T09:41:00.002-04:002010-09-05T09:50:47.043-04:00sleep cycles and ancestry<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My sleep cycle has once again changed with a new decade of life. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When I wake in the middle of the night (usually at the 4-hour sleep cycle end), I actually enjoy my time -- either watch Jon Stewart -- recorded at 11, when I'm almost always asleep or about to fall asleep, or I read, or I get on the computer -- now my iphone -- for a <span style="font-size: small;">half hour or so. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: small;">If I'm really sleepy, I'll warm some milk, maybe add some kahlua (yum) and take it back to bed with me. My cats are very patient with my new habits. When I go back to sleep, whether it is after a few minutes, or a half hour, or sometimes after a whole hour, I usually have another deep sleep for the (needed) period of time... I can't remember when it was last necessary to use an alarm clock -- if I need to wake up particularly early, I let my brain be aware of that (or drink a little bit extra the night before -- native american alarm clock style). It's me new older-woman schedule. I also consider it my naval schedule -- Ship's schedules had sailors sleeping 4 hours, awake 4 hours, sleep 4 hours, alternating watches.</span><small><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;"> When I was little, my ambition was to go into the navy and sail around the world, before I found out women couldn't do that -- then when I turned 18 they could, but by that time.....Vietnam, and so many other callings to me. </span><span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;" /></span> <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></small><br />
<small><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Many sea captains, sailors' wives, lighthouse keepers, ship-makers in my ancestry. I honor them with my new sleep habits.</span></span></span></small><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /> </span></span></span></div></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-67205848327799480492010-08-15T16:52:00.000-04:002010-08-15T16:52:23.844-04:00blueberry jam, my favorite favorite<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">making jam at home....a delight.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/TGhTaKFbllI/AAAAAAAABR8/y1CCUzo23vE/s1600/bbjam+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/TGhTaKFbllI/AAAAAAAABR8/y1CCUzo23vE/s320/bbjam+4.JPG" /></a></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-46874781935659373442010-07-20T01:35:00.001-04:002010-09-05T09:50:14.863-04:00summer storm<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The rain wakes me, I, now refreshed from my first four hours of sleep. Laying in my bed, the window wide open, listening listening loving the sound of the rain. It comes straight down; I am protected from its full force by the long overhang of my small home's roof. Yet the wind brings refreshing sprinkles onto my face. The gray cat is the one to share my excitement of this delicious weather. She remains on the inside window ledge, protected but close to the outside. I am at camp again, a child, in the woods, the sound of the heavy rain on the trees. A crack and the boom of the thunder telling me the lightening is likely close within my neighborhood. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I think of the creatures of my backyard, who do live in the outside, who find their overhangs to protect them, in the ground or among the bushes, or under some other protection, burrowed away until the storm will pass. And perhaps getting wet, but shaking off the rain with their protective coats. They know when to scurry under and then when to emerge. And they, too, perhaps, can return to sleep refreshed. It is the black & white cat, who actually spent a feral kittenhood in the wild and knows, she is the one to find her place hidden away, perhaps under the most protected bed, perhaps in another corner; I never see her during these storms.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The intense weather passes. It is quiet again, darkness all around. The water has refreshed us with its gifts of life and growth and sustenance. The electricity of the storm powerful, astounding. I am left grateful and content.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /> </span></span></span></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-55334636260074200062010-05-23T20:44:00.003-04:002010-05-23T20:48:36.781-04:00prayers for the planetary waters with the grandmothers on may 18, 2010<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S_nLsbu_qWI/AAAAAAAABR0/M0rRiOOC1es/s1600/Photo0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S_nLsbu_qWI/AAAAAAAABR0/M0rRiOOC1es/s200/Photo0002.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We are Water Babies.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Do not to forget to say thank you every day for the water you drink,</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">the water you bathe in.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Without our Mother water we would not survive.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Grandmother Agnes Baker Pilgrim, Takelma Siletz, Oregon</span></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: right;"><qtlend></qtlend><qtlend></qtlend></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a></span></div></div><qtlbar dir="ltr" id="qtlbar" style="-moz-border-radius: 3px 3px 3px 3px; background-color: #ececec; cursor: pointer; display: inline; left: 684px; line-height: 100%; padding: 0pt; text-align: left; top: 223px; z-index: 999;"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.qtl.co.il/img/copy.png" title="Copy selction" /><a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=%0D%0AWe%20are%20Water%20Babies.%0D%0A%0D%0ADo%20not%20to%20forget%20to%20say%20thank%20you%20every%20day%20for%20the%20water%20you%20drink,%0D%0A%0D%0Athe%20water%20you%20bathe%20in.%0D%0A%0D%0AWithout%20our%20Mother%20water%20we%20would%20not%20survive.%0D%0A%0D%0A%0D%0AGrandmother%20Agnes%20Baker%20Pilgrim,%20Takelma%20Siletz,%20Oregon%0D%0A%0D%0A%0D%0A" target="_blank" title="Search With Google"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.google.com/favicon.ico" /></a><img class="qtl" src="http://www.babylon.com/favicon.ico" title="Translate With Babylon" /><iframe id="qtlframe" src="" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid rgb(236, 236, 236); display: none;"></iframe></qtlbar>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-76367723112677470302010-05-18T13:24:00.005-04:002010-05-18T15:45:20.692-04:00reconnecting with earth 6 bringing it down to earth<div style="text-align: right;"><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">What are are next steps? What are my next steps? I will continue searching and implementing steps, even if small, each day.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><qtlend></qtlend><br />
</i></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">From Genius of Nature by Janine Benyus, author of <i>Biomimicry: Innovation Inspired by Natur</i>e:<i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">On the spider web: <br />
<i>A spider makes silk (they make six kinds, and I'm talking about drag-line silk that frames the web) that is five times stronger, ounce for ounce, than steel. It's resilient and tough -- a true miracle fiber. Even more incredible, a spider uses flies and crickets as raw material and creates the fiber at body temperature (a life-friendly temperature), because the manufacturing plant is the spider's body. Furthermore, the fiber is biodegradable, so the spider can eat the web to make more web."</i></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">About the prairie:<br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The original pre-Columbian prairie was composed of 99.9 per cent perennial plants, hundreds of species in four categories: cool season grasses, warm season grasses, legumes, and composites. They held the soil, so not only didn't it bleed away, it was actually enriched over the years, and because the prairie was a mixture of species, it resisted pest attacks....Couldn't we redesign our agriculture in the prairie's image in this part of the world, and then look at other parts of the world and see what grows there naturally and follow that wisdom? </i></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">She cautions about our footfall. She writes, <i>We in the United States take up about thirty acres of bioproductive land and sea per capita right now, and there are only five acres per person available globally.</i></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is not that the earth cannot sustain the population, it is that greed and imbalanced production geared to a small minority steals from the remaining, both human and non-human.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;">The Earth Charter <span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>[see <a href="http://www.earthcharterus.org/">http://www.earthcharterus.org/</a>]</i></span> </div><blockquote><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Earth Charter is a declaration of fundamental ethical principles for building a just, sustainable and peaceful global society in the 21st century. It seeks to inspire in all people a new sense of global interdependence and shared responsibility for the well-being of the whole human family, the greater community of life, and future generations. It is a vision of hope and a call to action. The Earth Charter is a product of a decade-long, worldwide, cross cultural dialogue on common goals and shared values.</span></div><div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #783f04;">The Earth Charter is centrally concerned with the transition to sustainable ways of living and sustainable human development. Ecological integrity is one major theme. However, the Earth Charter recognizes that the goals of ecological protection, the eradication of poverty, equitable economic development, respect for human rights, democracy, and peace are interdependent and indivisible. It provides, therefore, a new, inclusive, integrated ethical framework to guide the transition to a sustainable future.</span></span></span></div></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><i>With appreciation to the Northwest Earth Institute for compiling the discussion course</i></span></div></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">See www.nwei.org for more information of call 503-227-2807</span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a></span></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-58333005055766458752010-05-05T07:19:00.013-04:002010-05-18T13:05:31.843-04:00reconnecting with earth 5 ecopsychology<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><br />
<img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SpHG3tcl0aI/AAAAAAAABHQ/haEpgTAL3pA/s400/Picture+591.jpg" /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
canopy above us ~ a world we seldom see</span></i></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">In attempting to understand human foolish misbehaviour in terms of the environment, John Seed (Australian director of the Rainforest Information Center and co-creator of the Council of All Beings) explores the philosophy of deep ecology. He writes: <i> </i></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> The fundamental problem is anthropocentrism or human centredness. We are obsessed with our self-importance...we blindly destroy the future for 10 million species so as to fill the world with humanity for a few generations more.</i></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> In deep ecology, the world is seen not as a pyramid with humans on top, but as a web. We humans are but one strand in that web and as we destroy other strands, we destroy ourselves.</i></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Bill Plotkin (described as a wilderness guide, ecotherapist and depth psychologist) further emphasizes that children need nature, to explore freely in their own way the natural world: unsupervised play with peers in field and forest, with mud and stones and sticks, observing animals, birds, flowers, wind, snow, stars in order to grow into healthy, vibrant, creative human beings, fully belong to the world into which they were born and from which they were born. He emphasizes that this need, nature immersion, not only helps prevent modern maladies including depression, hyperactivity/attention deficit disorder, obesity, but that it is an essential dimension of human development to ensure creativity and roo<span style="background-color: white;">tedness in the earth community.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div><blockquote><div style="background-color: white; color: #7f6000; text-align: center;"><span class="UIStory_Message" style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><i>We can teach ourselves to be more aware<br />
of our </i></span><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">own mutual dependence.</span></i></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #7f6000; text-align: center;"><span class="UIStory_Message" style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"> As every living being wants happiness instead of </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">pain,<br />
we share a common basic feeling.</span></i></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #7f6000; text-align: center;"><span class="UIStory_Message" style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"> We can develop right action to </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">help the earth and each other <br />
based on a better motivation.</span></i></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #7f6000; text-align: center;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"> <span style="font-size: small;">When we are </span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">motivated by wisdom and compassion,<br />
the results of our acti</span></i></span></span><span class="text_exposed_show"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">ons </span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;">benefit everyone,<br />
not just our individual selves or some immediate </span></i></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">convenience.</span></i></span></span></span></span></span></div><h3 class="UIIntentionalStory_Message" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="text-align: right;"><span class="UIStory_Message"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="color: #7f6000;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="background-color: #bf9000;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #741b47;"><span style="color: #bf9000;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">Words from the Dalai Lama</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></i></span></span></span></span></h3></blockquote><div style="text-align: right;"></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /> </span></span></span></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"></span></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-87564607387902295432010-05-04T15:05:00.006-04:002010-05-05T07:12:33.482-04:00reconnecting with earth 4 the universe story<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Brian Swimme, founder of the Center for the Story of the Universe (what a name, yes?!), and author of <i>The Universe is a Green Dragon</i>, speaks of compassion as being a genetic mutation, allowing humans with a compassionate bond to better survive. First, the care or compassionate bond between mother and child evolved, then between siblings, then between kin groups.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">He relates this compassion to gravitational attraction, which was essential to the beginning of the universe, the formation of the stars. This comprehensive compassion that pervades the universe is now beginning to surface within the consciousness of humanity. To extend this awareness, he recommends simply, to pay attention. He likes to use the phrase "the power of gawking," and references Chief Seattle who said, <i>"if the animals were not here, we would die of loneliness."</i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Upon seeing the first deaths from the current Gulf oil tragedy, the giant turtles being tenderly inserted into small black body bags, the size of the turtles, how I ache for us all with this great loss.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><br />
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a></span></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-89811760309179522402010-05-04T14:55:00.003-04:002010-05-04T15:12:50.162-04:00reconnecting with earth 3 nature & spirit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><br />
<qtlend></qtlend></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S-BtncYuVAI/AAAAAAAABRs/Tx6SxBYjEoY/s1600/sky+0012a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S-BtncYuVAI/AAAAAAAABRs/Tx6SxBYjEoY/s400/sky+0012a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a></span></div><qtlbar dir="ltr" id="qtlbar" style="-moz-border-radius: 3px 3px 3px 3px; background-color: #ececec; cursor: move; display: inline; left: 117px; line-height: 100%; opacity: 0.9; padding: 0pt; text-align: left; top: 30px; z-index: 999;"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.qtl.co.il/img/copy.png" title="Copy selction" /><a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=nature%20&%20spirit" target="_blank" title="Search With Google"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.google.com/favicon.ico" /></a><img class="qtl" src="http://www.babylon.com/favicon.ico" title="Translate With Babylon" /><iframe id="qtlframe" src="" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid rgb(236, 236, 236); display: none;"></iframe></qtlbar>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-28396400726306958892010-05-02T21:06:00.002-04:002010-05-02T21:06:48.652-04:00butter from cream<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S94hl08j49I/AAAAAAAABRk/H38UDn4C4ko/s1600/butter.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S94hl08j49I/AAAAAAAABRk/H38UDn4C4ko/s320/butter.JPG" /></a></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-88778543011967891512010-04-21T09:16:00.011-04:002010-05-04T15:13:26.388-04:00reconnecting with earth 2 shifting paradigms<div style="color: #783f04; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: black;"><qtlend></qtlend></span></i><i><br />
</i></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><i><qtlend></qtlend><qtlend></qtlend>When one tugs at a single thing in nature, </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">he finds it attached to the rest of the world.</span></i></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-small;">John Muir </span><span style="color: blue;"> </span><span style="color: #783f04;"> </span></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i> </i>The titles of the articles we have been directed to read are in themselves wonderful phrases for contemplation:</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"> Thinking Like a Mountain</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"> The Web of Life</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"> Deep Ecology and Lifestyle</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"> The Gaia Hypothesis</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"> Seeing the Whole at the Center</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;">From the Mother Earth News article (May/June 1986):</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"> <i>....over the millennia the earth has somehow regulated its own </i>temperature<i>. When life began on our planet four billion years ago the sun was 30 percent cooler than it is today. Yet, from then until now, the temperature of the earth's surface has remained with the critical life-supporting range of 15 degrees to 30 degrees Celsius. The level of CO2 has dropped a hundred fold in those four billion years, reducing the "greenhouse" heating holding effect of the atmosphere even while the sun was radiating more heat. The result?</i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><i>The earth has kept itself at a constant temperature ... just as our bodies do. </i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;">I find this astounding, and shows how the interaction of systems produces amazing results. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Another delightful reaction and example from nature: In an experiment, damaging bacteria were introduced to a limited number of trees at the far end of a forest. Almost immediately the trees at the opposite end of the forest, a significant distance from the affected trees, began producing antibodies against that threat.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a></span></div></div><br />
<qtlbar dir="ltr" id="qtlbar" style="-moz-border-radius: 3px 3px 3px 3px; background-color: #ececec; cursor: pointer; display: inline; left: 141px; line-height: 100%; padding: 0pt; text-align: left; top: 30px; z-index: 999;"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.qtl.co.il/img/copy.png" title="Copy selction" /><a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=shifting%20paradigms" target="_blank" title="Search With Google"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.google.com/favicon.ico" /></a><img class="qtl" src="http://www.babylon.com/favicon.ico" title="Translate With Babylon" /><iframe id="qtlframe" src="" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid rgb(236, 236, 236); display: none;"></iframe></qtlbar>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-10281439365461931442010-04-14T09:15:00.006-04:002010-04-15T08:55:59.868-04:00building a garden (of life)<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S8cHti_xbbI/AAAAAAAABQ0/8adnyuOp7Z4/s1600/Photo0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S8cHti_xbbI/AAAAAAAABQ0/8adnyuOp7Z4/s320/Photo0006.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">lambs ear intermingling with the gifted rose from my son's wedding celebration</span><br />
<br />
</div>My backyard is my world. Now I am creating newly in my front yard. The more I embrace this wonderful space around me, the more I can learn from it and be guided and enriched by it. It provides me with animal life: the squirrels fat and brown of this town in all seasons, always busy, always aware. Coming to peek in my living room window at times. Fearless even with the crows, the cats, the bark of the dogs. The wonderful lumbering groundhogs -- there is a young one this year, scurrying fast. The old one, like the squirrels will come up to the back step and peer inside, wondering about the glass separating us. The raccoons visit, even nest, until I need to ask the animal man to come and capture him and clean out my eaves space -- the smell so strong he cannot breath well -- then needing the screen to prevent future nesting. The rabbits, usually unseen; my surprise at the baby bunny nesting on the edge of the road, next to my mailbox. The feral cats that leave their careful tracks in the snow beside the jumping tracks of the rabbit, enjoying the clear hospitality of the space under my parked car, free from the cold wet of the piled up snow from the night before. The birds, of course, bringing change and joy and song.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S8cH-bjqF0I/AAAAAAAABQ8/8Mw1u8Gb0XQ/s1600/Photo0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S8cH-bjqF0I/AAAAAAAABQ8/8Mw1u8Gb0XQ/s320/Photo0004.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">echinecea </span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">plants from my new daughter</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> transplanted last fall </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S8cKjkHCF3I/AAAAAAAABRU/MnSNgl5hBYc/s1600/Photo0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S8cKjkHCF3I/AAAAAAAABRU/MnSNgl5hBYc/s320/Photo0016.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">poking up through the grass</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span></div>Now my emerging small garden, providing amazing memories from last year, with some plants intact, others expanding, others with unknown greens (weeds, they say) poking up -- my need is to clear the remaining packets of strong returning grass to make way this year for a new friend -- will it be beans or peas this year? Slowly slowly adding to this small space. I moved my carefully tended little trees last year, they seem to be thriving in the new location. I must anticipate their size and needs because they will create shade in the future that will prevent the possibility of other, especially vegetable, crops.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S8cLmQwv4aI/AAAAAAAABRc/VwujPgGHjvk/s1600/Photo0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S8cLmQwv4aI/AAAAAAAABRc/VwujPgGHjvk/s320/Photo0003.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">transplanted peonies from my grandmother (lena) & tulips from the backyard</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The others in the group talk about travelling long distances - to Yellowstone, to Alaska -- or forty acres of land up north -- or a farm land of grazing cows and goats -- or the massive Matthaei Bontanical Gardens. But I am lucky with my land and my small homestead and the sun and trees that surround me and the moon that I can follow. This small space is becoming more and more my teacher.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Transcending hesitation:</i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Understand my intention with my heart. Build on the clarity of that intention.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Create a plan to proceed. Lists are good.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Follow that plan.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Seeing clearly, respond to the needs the garden itself presents to me.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>wise words from Geri Larkin, Plant Seed, Pull Weed.</i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a></span></div></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-49713304075072111082010-04-13T13:08:00.005-04:002010-05-04T15:13:58.285-04:00reconnecting with earth 1 wild nature<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The interconnectedness of everything, not just the living, but also the living parts of the past, on earth and above earth, <i>seeing a miracle</i>, said Loren Eiseley.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The badlands appear to be lifeless, but in fact hold all the particles of life: </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">carbon black on the stone, iron in the clays, phosphorus from brain, calcium from bones and teeth still intact.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The rocks are full of life, and can speak to us, not at all inanimate. They hold the history of the earth. The birds fly over the land that the humans have, for the most part, abandoned. It is all part of the whole, including the light from the moon illuminating all.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Intention: </i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">To bring awareness of wildness into my life, more consistently and deeply.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">To be aware of the secret of <i>seeing</i>.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">To allow the discipline of clearing the mind that will give room for the possibility of illumination.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Currently participating in a six-part discussion course, with appreciation to Jim Crowfoot, to fellow students, all themselves teachers, to Michigan Friends Center.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a></span></div></div><qtlbar dir="ltr" id="qtlbar" style="-moz-border-radius: 3px 3px 3px 3px; background-color: #ececec; cursor: move; display: inline; left: 96px; line-height: 100%; opacity: 0.9; padding: 0pt; text-align: left; top: 30px; z-index: 999;"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.qtl.co.il/img/copy.png" title="Copy selction" /><a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=Wild%20Nature" target="_blank" title="Search With Google"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.google.com/favicon.ico" /></a><img class="qtl" src="http://www.babylon.com/favicon.ico" title="Translate With Babylon" /><iframe id="qtlframe" src="" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid rgb(236, 236, 236); display: none;"></iframe></qtlbar>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-57134159564035932442010-03-25T20:15:00.003-04:002010-03-25T20:18:41.530-04:00the mark of a man<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As a result of a recent dream, I have been remembering the first time my son showed me his deep and true adult character.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The dream, not written down and so soon forgotten, was nonetheless felt to be of significance. The only portion that I have been able to retain was my son driving me on a fast road, he swerving in and out of traffic and various road situations with incredible driving skill, accuracy and speed. The dream itself had other implications, and many specific details which were satisfying at the time, but forgotten by the next week.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But still, the dream prompted the remembrance:</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My son had turned 21 that year. I had been in a frightening car accident, had been sitting on the passenger side, sure that my life was to be over. Happily, it was in an older Volvo, and yes, my Volvo saved my life, as the advertisement used to say. A week later, I needed to drive a long distance home, maybe 10 hours of driving across national borders and high-speed roads. I was wary of the car altogether and didn't anticipate taking this trip with any pleasure. My son offered to drive me the distance, changing his plans to meet my needs. On the road, I was very squirrelly, fearful of the traffic and the speeds and, most especially, of passing any trucks at all. I needed my son to drive for me, and I needed to calm myself and re-learn how to be a passenger without startling or tensing. It was a hard trip for me. The highway speeds were difficult -- I had always been a good driver, and generally would flow with the faster traffic, managing with ease the five miles per hour (or greater) more than the standard top speed that was the normal pace of the middle and left lanes. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Now, however, the slightest increase above the speed limit kept me tense, and attempting to pass a large truck that was going the lower truck speed limit completely unhinged me.</span><br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My good and gentle son, fierce looking with his well-configured punk style and tall, strong body, certainly at 21 years of age was used to highway speeds and a young man's confidence. Yet, with his mother beside him, he drove for all those highway hours at <i>exactly</i> the speed limit, driving in the slower right-hand lane, letting the trucks pass us by. He did not once make fun of my jumpiness nor of my active right leg attacking a ghostly brake pedal from time to time. He comforted me, asked me about my fears, encouraged me to relax, and, above all, allowed my needs to govern the long drive home. When we became stuck behind a <i>really </i>slow truck, he talked me through accepting moving to the center and left lanes to make the pass around, pointing out that it was actually safer to get ahead of a large truck, rather than to be behind one if there were to be an accident ahead. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I felt moved not only by the care that this adult young man was now showing his mother, but also by the great generosity which marked his entire manner during this trip. I knew<qtlend></qtlend> then the man that he had become, and the character that would be part of the rest of his life.<br />
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 100%;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><img alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" style="border: 0px none; display: block; height: 19px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></span></a></span></div></div><qtlbar dir="ltr" id="qtlbar" style="-moz-border-radius: 3px 3px 3px 3px; background-color: #ececec; cursor: pointer; display: inline; left: 665px; line-height: 100%; opacity: 0.9; padding: 0pt; text-align: left; top: 930px; z-index: 999;"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.qtl.co.il/img/copy.png" title="Copy selction" /><a href="http://www.google.com/search?q=at" target="_blank" title="Search With Google"><img class="qtl" src="http://www.google.com/favicon.ico" /></a><img class="qtl" src="http://www.babylon.com/favicon.ico" title="Translate With Babylon" /><iframe id="qtlframe" src="" style="background-color: white; border: 1px solid rgb(236, 236, 236); display: none;"></iframe></qtlbar>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-47533146141853040132010-02-20T13:56:00.007-05:002010-02-20T14:33:09.375-05:00on the death of a childhood friend<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She was an extraordinarily accomplished academic writer and teacher, renowned internationally. We had been out of touch for a decade, and I discovered that for the last eight years she was enduring a debilitating disease, leading her to be unable to talk, although she kept her mental capacity to her death, even completing two major books during this period of time.<br /><br />I remembered her most vividly from third grade on and especially in jr. high school. We danced together -- both of us tall and awkward beside the third best friend of our dancing trio, the one who was lithe and lovely o</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">n her feet and became a professional dancer. But all of us enjoyed each others' company, spending wonderful four-person sleep-overs on mattresses on the floor, jumping on and off beds, making up stories, giggling and giggling.<br /><br />In jr. high, more serious, she and I shared many confidences, stories about our crushes, of course ... it was 7th grade ... Also participating in our young peoples church group, performing or singing in the church and learning </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">about civil rights and the war protest movement </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">from our politically active group leaders, our eyes being opened in our very white, very conservative Boston suburb town. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In adulthood, we met perhaps three times when our paths were able to cross; sharing where our lives had taken us and also sharing new perspectives on our lives as children, hi</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S4A43iRz0XI/AAAAAAAABQo/GoLXHQRc9dE/s1600-h/barbara+johnson.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 169px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/S4A43iRz0XI/AAAAAAAABQo/GoLXHQRc9dE/s200/barbara+johnson.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440410876609024370" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">dden secrets now more easily explored in our conversations. Her academic achievements were quite extraordinary, but we shared a childhood friendship that needed no intellectual parsing. From the tributes to her written by her colleagues and students, I believe she approached her academic discussions in a similar way -- honest and open, with great respect and caring for others, interested in direct exchange with great humility on her part and focused and kind interest in the other.<br /><br />An impact of learning of her passing has been the sharing of this information among a group of additional childhood friends. One other of this group is missing and greatly missed. Those of us here have a renewed commitment to keep in touch, to support and nourish each other, even if from a distance.</span><br /><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="border: 0px none; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 19px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" /></span></a></span></p></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-327063618060296412010-02-08T19:43:00.004-05:002010-02-08T20:00:57.842-05:00contentment<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Just two<qtlend></qtlend> days later, a very different mood and very different feelings. Contentment with my life, my day, my evening, the blessings I have been given. The loneliness dissipated, gone where? Odd to have such a change -- come about from the gift of sleep perhaps? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When I am tired, how comforting and renewing is sleep. Fresh sheets, newly made bed, fluffed pillows and quilt, a book beside me. Looking out the window to the beauty of the quiet night, the moon still beckoning and spreading soft light across the backyard. Lovely and reassuring. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now I recall with comfort the many other gifts I have received. My cozy home, my good friends I can reach out to (including the new and enjoyable virtual friendship circles and circles), always always my children, and now their children. My nieces and their (brand new!) children, expanding (real) circles of loving relationships. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Any my enjoyments: many books, many movies, television at my convenience, music and music and changing moods that music can generate, the radio shows, the lovely surrounding wood (inside and outside my home), delectable food, planning for (possible) gardens with changes of weather. The changes of weather themselves. The blessing of living where there is rich, lasting, encompassing heat, then the beauty of impermanence as the trees change color and shed their loveliness, the many shades of white, snow, ice, sky in winter, the color of cold, and to anticipate the multiplicity of spring changes...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So then to be alive is to be content. And I embrace the gift of contentment in my life.</span><br /><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="border: 0px none ; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 19px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" /></span></a></span></p></div><qtlbar id="qtlbar" dir="ltr" style="padding: 0pt; display: inline; text-align: left; line-height: 100%; background-color: rgb(236, 236, 236); -moz-border-radius-topleft: 3px; -moz-border-radius-topright: 3px; -moz-border-radius-bottomright: 3px; -moz-border-radius-bottomleft: 3px; cursor: pointer; z-index: 999; left: 31px; top: 25px; opacity: 0.9;"><img class="qtl" title="Copy selction" src="http://www.qtl.co.il/img/copy.png" /><a title="Search With Google" target="_blank" href="http://www.google.com/search?q=One"><img src="http://www.google.com/favicon.ico" class="qtl" /></a><img src="http://www.babylon.com/favicon.ico" title="Translate With Babylon" class="qtl" /><iframe id="qtlframe" src="" style="border: 1px solid rgb(236, 236, 236); display: none; background-color: white;"></iframe></qtlbar>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-52766655643721058922010-02-06T22:11:00.007-05:002010-02-06T22:28:36.012-05:00loneliness<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">How do I describe my feelings. Perhaps by writing I can understand. Perhaps I think I can erase this lonesomeness, this sadness. This is not being alone, with which I am well acquainted, and normally a condition which allows me quiet and contentment. No, instead, this is missing so much: missing touch, missing companionship, missing friendship, missing intimacy physical and emotional, missing another, wanting to be outside of my self, wanting to be away from my sadness.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I walk from room to room. I know to move to work to accept to ignore to hide to cover to pretend to distract. I especially know to distract. I also know my blessings, my family, my past happinesses, my friends, my abilities, my accomplishments, my children. And yet and yet and yet, this sadness appears, feeling so apart. Knowing I could likely reach out and I would receive much more, but somehow paralyzed. What is the fear. What is the sense of lack, the inability. What impels me not to seek what I want and need.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This loneliness. It tears at me, my eyes tear. I listen as my heart is beating, wanting, waiting, but not seeking.</span><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="border: 0px none ; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 19px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" /></span></a></span></p></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-69368318263336432012009-11-28T10:04:00.011-05:002009-11-29T09:04:39.679-05:00national day of listening 2009<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SxFDScCxChI/AAAAAAAABQA/oQghDduF0Ao/s1600/irene+mcpherson+locke+smith.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 140px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SxFDScCxChI/AAAAAAAABQA/oQghDduF0Ao/s200/irene+mcpherson+locke+smith.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409178611493177874" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">On Thanksgiving Day my mother gave me a platter that had been passed down from her great-grandmother, who was from Nova Scotia. It was a remaining piece from a set that was passed down from her grandmother, to her mother, to her and now to me. Other pieces of the set may have been given to her other aunts.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I decided to ask my mother more about this woman, her own great-grandmother, or her grandmother. My mother didn't know anything directly about her great-grandmother, but she knows that her grandmother lived with her in their home in Jenkintown, outside of Philadelphia, on the same train line that goes to Ambler. Her mother, the eldest daughter, had brought her down from Nova Scotia to live with them when she was probably not well. My mother was 1 or 2 at the time, and her grandmother probably died within a year of living with them, maybe 1918. She was young, Mother remembers, and her mother told her that the grandmother had violet-colored eyes. Mother remembers, from photographs, that her father and mother took her grandmother on a trip to Atlantic City. The photograph shows them in style.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The other sisters included Azul, 15 years younger than my grandmother and who lived not too far from her, in Camden, New Jersey. Mother's Aunt Jac (for Jacobine) stayed in Nova Scotia, living on the ocean, north of Yarmouth. The third sister, Gene (Imogene), died in Boston very young, soon after she married, maybe from the flu, maybe from a baby. Her sister, Irene, was away at the time, traveling with her husband.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SxFGNq1leoI/AAAAAAAABQQ/FOG_A5IBhc4/s1600/smaller+jacob+locke+smith.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 136px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SxFGNq1leoI/AAAAAAAABQQ/FOG_A5IBhc4/s200/smaller+jacob+locke+smith.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409181828099963522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">After her grandmother died, my mother's mother brought her father, Jacob, down from Nova Scotia. My mother has a very clear memory of him lying in his casket, white hair. He was a short, stocky man, and deaf. Mother said, "He lived with us, then Daddy got mad at him and threw him out because he told my mother to get divorced from my father -- so my grandfather went to live with Aunt Azul. Daddy told me this; Mother never said anything about it. The casket was at Aunt Azul's, so I must have been 3 or 4 years old."</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SxFGrBjOcOI/AAAAAAAABQg/8eXzl12vhLw/s1600/frederick+cawley.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SxFGrBjOcOI/AAAAAAAABQg/8eXzl12vhLw/s200/frederick+cawley.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409182332413178082" border="0" /> </a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SxFE50iNB0I/AAAAAAAABQI/qa0GzHBbVE0/s1600/KA006+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 170px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SxFE50iNB0I/AAAAAAAABQI/qa0GzHBbVE0/s200/KA006+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409180387594012482" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My grandmother also had a brother, Romeo, father of Eddie, who lives in Kalamazoo and Victor, who lived in Traverse City.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I asked my mother about the names that her grandmother gave her children. She told me that her mother told her that her grandmother loved Shakespeare, could quote all of Shakespeare's plays and all of the Bible, and so named her children with names from Shakespeare.<br /></span><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="border: 0px none ; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 19px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" /></span></a></span></p></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-42098211925377190662009-11-07T17:02:00.005-05:002009-11-29T09:04:19.032-05:00halo of hair<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SvXve3ULECI/AAAAAAAABP4/y4tgk9B7TRA/s1600-h/KA003+copy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SvXve3ULECI/AAAAAAAABP4/y4tgk9B7TRA/s320/KA003+copy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401486641624453154" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My grandmother had long hair. When I stayed at her house overnight I would watch her before she retired to bed in the evening as she took down the long braid that she pinned on top of her head every morning.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She had a dish full of black hair pins. She would brush her long hair with the 100 required strokes.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She sat at her dressing table and did this.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I would stand at the doorway to her bedroom and watch her brush her hair.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Then she would braid it, perhaps with two braids, and leave the braids down for sleeping. She told me with great pride and yet a touch of shyness how much her husband (my grandfather I never knew -- he died before I was born) loved her long hair.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I don't think she ever cut it, except to trim the ends.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Every morning she would braid the single braid and wrap it up on top of her head again.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She had combs that she would also put in her hair to catch the fly-aways. But they were all brown or black haircombs.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When her hair was all white, I found some white hair combs for her to use, instead of the brown ones, and she was so delighted, she said she didn't know that they made them anything but dark combs.<br /></span><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="border: 0px none ; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 19px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" /></span></a></span></p></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-29067782123636238082009-08-23T18:52:00.002-04:002009-11-29T09:03:34.822-05:00ahhhhh to fly high above<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SpHILO9lvgI/AAAAAAAABHo/1Bd9oO6w-H4/s1600-h/Picture+630.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left; clear: both;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SpHILO9lvgI/AAAAAAAABHo/1Bd9oO6w-H4/s320/Picture+630.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></span></a><p><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="border: 0px none ; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 19px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" /></span></a></span></p><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></span></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7383588390821849460.post-73356294599127886262009-08-23T18:43:00.003-04:002009-11-29T09:03:58.569-05:00listening to the wind<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SpHGNoVg-JI/AAAAAAAABGw/kIPfRitjWz0/s1600-h/Picture+601.jpg"><img alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/SpHGNoVg-JI/AAAAAAAABGw/kIPfRitjWz0/s320/Picture+601.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><p><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s1600-h/myline.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img style="border: 0px none ; margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 19px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Zd6f-mzhzd0/Siuvfg3RcPI/AAAAAAAAAug/yg0XyMzZP08/s320/myline.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344558338737795314" /></span></a></span></p></div></div>lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18128177052789367111noreply@blogger.com0