Wandering & Wondering

So Much More Than Just A Cup Of Coffee

2012-01-07T07:05:00.000-08:00

Do you remember your first cup of coffee? Did you ever stop to think about how many pivotal moments in your life were accompanied with a cup of coffee sitting at your side?

So many of us love the smell of coffee first thing in the morning! For some it is energizing, for others it is comforting. But what happens when that robust aroma is not expected? You walk into a room in the middle of the day and bam, there it is, coffee! Where does it take you?

The smell of coffee is probably one of the first memories to take up residence in the baby-Toni brain. I find it hard to recall a morning, growing up, that coffee wasn't part of the scenario. I did not partake of the drinking of coffee though until I was about `14 years old. We were on a family vacation. We rented a 25 foot trailer and parked it north of Crescent City, California one night on our way to Oregon. There was a large lagoon on the east side of us, as we slept that night, and the Pacific Ocean on the west side. I have never slept along side the ocean so I spent most of the night listening to the pounding surf and wondered how the water got to the lagoon and if we would be washed out to sea.

In the morning, the fog was thick and the ocean sounded angry. Mom and Dad were sitting at the little table, warming their hands around their cups as the steam rose above their coffee. Mom's coffee was black, no cream, no sugar. Dad's coffee; black, two sugars. I sat there in my light grey jeans and navy blue sweatshirt, just a little shiver going on, not so much from the cold as the "BIG-ness" of the event. Ocean. Fog. Giant Sequoias. Mystical mists that detached themselves from the thick fog and floated towards our little traveling abode as if to probe the contents and determine our purpose for intruding.

Mom handed me a cup filled to the brim, coffee, cream and two sugars. I wrapped my fingers around that cup and was warmed right down to my toes. Sipping slowly, I felt the whole world opening up to me. Instead of feeling like an intruder, I felt as if I belonged, probably the first time I felt like that in over 5 years, since leaving Colorado when I was 9. Not just belonged in California, but belonged on the beach that cold morning in the fog, belonged with those majestic trees. I was not an intruder, I was not an observer but I actually had a relationship with all the wildness of nature, I was in harmony with it. I wasn't afraid, and if the ocean had decided to come wash me away it would be an adventure not a battle.

Just one cup of hot coffee on a cold foggy morning on the ocean....pivotal!

Ceviche and Resolutions

2012-01-02T13:43:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year to all. 2012, has a nice ring, doesn't it? My resolution for the new year is to blog more often, to blog those stories and events that I think about and to hesitate less about putting words to paper.

One, two, three....begin!

I am often asked for my recipe for Ceviche, which is raw shrimp marinated in lime and garlic. I thought I would put it down and then when asked how to make the magic I could just say, "Check it out on "musingsfrommara"! Cool idea...or not, but it will save me the time of writing it down each time I am asked!

Warning (and disclaimer): I don't typically follow recipes and I don't measure, so everytime I cook something it is just a tiny bit different. I am going to list the ingredients and approximate amounts and you can change it up to suit your taste. (Like the way I put it back on you if it doesn't taste as good as I've promised!)

Ingredients:
1.5 pounds of shrimp. I like to use shrimp about 1 or 1.5 inch but you can use large prawns just clean and cut them up in 1" pieces or you can use the teeny weeny cocktail type shrimp. Your call. I find that the size I use gives you a good bite.
1 large yellow onion
1 large armenian cucumber or seedless cucumber (equal to about 1.5 regular cucumbers)
3 or 4 cloves of garlic
4 or 5 stalks of celery
3 or 4 serrano peppers
1 very large red bell pepper
8 limes
3 or 4 or 5 green onions with good healthy stalks
cilantro
sea salt

Not necessary but certainly suggested would be a couple of cold beers, Pacifico or Tecate, an extra lime and a little salt on a plate....for the cook and helpers!

Night before you are going to serve your ceviche (if you are using pre-cooked shrimp you can do this in the morning-of but an all-night marination certainly adds to the scrumptiousness and makes the shrimp almost crunchy)....okay, back to night before....clean and peel shrimp, rinse well. This can take awhile if you are not used to it. A CD of appropriate music can help prepare the mood and enlivens the task, Buena Vista Social Club or Cesaria Evoria is right on the money. The music will travel down your finger tips, into the prawns and create magic!

Juice 6 or 7 of the limes and cover the shrimp with the juice. Chop the garlic into tiny, tiny bits and mix in. Refrigerate overnight. I sometimes put mixture in a zip-lock baggie with the air all squeezed out but I like the taste better in the morning if I've used a glass or ceramic bowl....probably psychological but, hey, it's my kitchen and I do what I want!!! Just make sure the juice covers all the shrimp.

Next day, at least 3 or 4 hours before serving get out all your ingredients and prepare your space for singing, dancing and creativity. Chances are, you may have gone through the Pacifico, or if you had help with last night's prep you may have shared the Tecate....Good For You! So, this morning you will need to bring out the Long Island Ice Tea (chill your glass in the freezer, make sure the rum is good stuff and celebrate the creativity of cooking). Our musical accompaniment for this part of the dish demands tunes with a touch of Ole'...I prefer Gypsy Kings ....can use say "Bomboleo"?

Let the shrimp stay in the fridge will you chop the veggies. Ceviche tastes the best when it is really really really chilled! Dice the onion, cucumber, celery, red bell pepper, green onions. Place into large bowl. I would estimate that for the amount of shrimp about 1 1/2 cups of each veggie should be used. I scoop all the seeds from the cucumber. Ceviche is all about the crisp of a bite so nothing mushy!

Ceviche was one of the best kept secrets of South America for, apparently, centuries! Depending on where you are on the continent it is known as ceviche, seviche or even cebiche, but it is know as GOOD...uh, excuse me, BUENO! MUEY BUENO! Many consider ceviche the National Dish of Peru, suggesting that ancient indigenous people salted and marinated their fish and the Spanish introduced lemons and limes and the marriage of the two cultures created this marvelous dish. Some historians hold that ceviche's roots are in Arabia. All I know is that in the making of Ceviche there should be a great merriment!

When the cook celebrates life, dances and sings and toasts to God and Goddess, the partakers of the dish will be blessed with good food and life's blessings!

You are sipping that Long Island Ice Tea, aren't you? By now you should have grasped the hand of anyone who has wandered into the kitchen and spun them around in your version of Salsa. Your hips should be swaying to the music and every now and then arms up and feet stomping. Kitchen Flamenco is mandatory! Wheelchair bound cooks....no excuses! Snap those fingers and spin! Ole'!

Serrano peppers....Thank You, God, for this little beauty. I clean all the white membranes and seeds out. Did you know that peppers have been cultivated in South America (Ecuador) for over 6000 years. Christopher Columbus encountered them in the Caribbean and took some back to Europe where most plants were kept as botanical exotics but the Monks (God bless the Monks!) experimented with the peppers and found them to be a real boost to their culinary arts! I, personally, can't imagine a life without chili peppers. Maybe, just maybe, the poverty of the European kitchens in the middle ages was the cause of such turmoil such as witch hunts and Inquistitions. The lack of delicious flavor will, indeed, make one cranky!

Rinse the cilantro and pull the leaves off the large stems. I don't chop the cilantro as small as the veggies. I kind of like the look of the wavy leaf here and there in the ceviche. I chop about a quarter of a cup, loosely, sometimes more, sometimes less. Cilantro is definitely a "to-taste" ingredient. I like lots, other like it not so much!

Drain the lime juice out of the shrimp. It will have a kind of milky tone to it and milky tones are not appetizing, unless you are talking about milk or vanilla ice cream. I don't drain it in a colander though because I don't want to lose any of the little bits of garlic. Just tip the bowl and drain out what you can. Now mix it all together, veggies and shrimp mix. Cut the last lime in half and cut a thin slice for garnishing. Juice the remaining halves of lime and add to mixture. Add sea salt to taste, garnish with slice of lime and cilantro. Return to fridge until serving time. Serve with a little salt dish of sea salt and invite your guests to use their fingers to salt the dish to their taste. Fingers are essential tools to sensuous meals!

Serve as a salad, an appetizer, with chips as a salsa or on a hot day in the middle of summer serve poolside as the main dish with an ice cold beer and a shot of Patron!

Substitutes? Oh so many! You can add roma tomatoes (remove the seeds, remember no mushy!), roasted corn is a great addition (adds color and taste!), black beans if you are looking for more protein but then you will have some moosh! An orange or yellow bell pepper for color and more crunch. Sometimes I add a shake or two of dried red crushed peppers or will take another clove (or two) of fresh garlic and add it to mixture with veggies. Pampered Chef has a wonderful little concoction, Buffalo Rub, and a little spritz of that can add some pizzazz!
I hope you like it!
Oh, if you're really lucky and blessed, your significant other will want to share the event with you and hang out! My husband Frank cleaned and straightened the pantry, discovered some long lost CD's and hung out with me.

Culinary Hint: Kissing in la Cocina adds flavor to every meal!

Satyagraha

2011-11-29T12:27:00.000-08:00

Satyagraha?

What is satyagraha? It is a philosophy from India which means to do anything, give anything, sacrifice anything, to pursue what is right without harming another and to do this without regard for self.

Do you have the strength of character for satyagraha? I often wonder that about myself. I definitely have my values and principles and my list of things that start with,
"Well, I would never......."

But, would I? Do I?

I am a woman who has lived a blessed and gifted life. Many of the things I say I would never do, I say them because I have never been challenged by those circumstances. When you look at challenges from a distance they always seem to be constructed of black and white blocks but the closer you get to those challenges the blacks and whites fade to shades of grey.

Ghandi, a man who really introduced Satyagraha to the world at-large, a proponent of "passive resistance" and non-violence and was actually awarded a Nobel Peace prize was a great poser and coward it seems to me. He talked big in the world of men and politics but beat the women in his life. How does one live with those conflicts?

In the light of day with the world watching he taught one thing but behind closed doors he was a different person....

Nelson Mandela was, I believe, is a man who's name and face is more iconic of passive resistance and nonviolence. A man of honor. I would hope that I am more like Mr. Mandela.

I pray for the strength of authentic satyagraha and that Father/Mother/God never test me.

Spam Intervention

2011-11-12T09:55:00.000-08:00

Dear Spam,
We seriously need to talk. If there was ever, ever, E-V-E-R, ever a need for intervention, well, let's just say I hear your desperate cry!

Please, Spam, I don't know how many more ways to tell you, but:
1. I don't own a penis, undersized or otherwise, and I certainly do not want one.
2. I know what my credit score is.
3. Though my relationships are none of your business, I feel I must inform you that I am not looking for hookups so tell eHarmony, Zoosk, Match.com and all your other friends to stop bugging me. I will call them if the need arises!
4. I don't care what Bunny, Lulu or Victoria does in the privacy of her bedroom, nor do I care to share her gymnastic talents with her and her friends.
5. I do not need Carbonite. I can save my own stuff here at home.
6. I only knew 6 of my High School Classmates and I am still in touch with them. Oh yes, and my yearbooks are in the bookshelf in the back bedroom, if I want to look at them its free!

Spam, honey, please, get some help. Get outside and get some sunshine and fresh air or climb back into your little weird shaped can of gelatinous goo. Just stay away from computers....you and keyboards....not good, honey, not good.

This Too (2) I Know To Be True!

2011-11-09T10:08:00.000-08:00

5. I digress. This I know to be true!

Yes, I have a way of digressing. Two of my granddaughters have noticed the randomness of life and will periodically state: "Random!" and then say what has just randomly come into their thoughts. They, also, often look at each other after I have said something and smile and say "Random!"

I believe that in my case calling out "Tangent" might be more accurate! There are several definitions of tangent. Tangent is an adjective and a noun, it is geometry, trigonometry and idiom!
Now you might say that when I digress my actions are that of the idiom-tangent according to Dictionary.com.: "off on/at a tangent, digressing suddenly from one course of action or thought and turning to another."

I would disagree! I think my digressions are more closely associated with the Geometric defintion: "touching at a single point."

We can all totally wipeout all connections to the trigonometry definitions: "the ratio of the side opposite a given angle to the side adjacent to the angle" or "a trigonometric function equal to the ratio of the ordinate of the end point of the arc to the abscissa of this end point, the origin being at the center of the circle on which..." okay, okay, you get it, right? My digressions are clearly free of ratio, abscissa and ordinate, though "end point" does relate...somehow....maybe.....

You see, my digressions are "connected" at some point. Like when I am telling a story and mention that it started on Tuesday and then realize that it probably wasn't Tuesday because on Tuesday I had coffee with my sister-in-law and then went to the library and a quick run to Shopko for some soda and hair dye because in this economy I am cutting down on my trips to see Valerie and get my hair done which has caused me to have a section of a neon shade of red close to my scalp because in Hairdresser-ese "warm" does not mean warm and cuddly, it means red!

See! Connected. Nothing shiny that grabbed my attention just connection, connection, connection.

Did I ever tell you how much I enjoyed diagramming sentences when I was a kid in school?

I know, I know, you are thinking to yourself, "She's done it now, that is totally random!" If that is your thinking, then you are totally wrong! You see, Tangents, geometrically speaking, are connected at points.

The Tuesday-sentence above had many connections which reminds me of diagrammed sentences and how much joy they brought me creating those little sideways trees on my lined paper. That makes me happy!

So, I digress. But not in the "attention deficit...squirrel" kind of way. Nope. Though I am feeling a strong allure to look up the definitions of abstract and pulchritude...

So, as long as we are speaking of wandering since the definition of "digress" is not just about wandering off the subject or point in speech or written topic but it also suggests to wander from one's path or main direction.
Yes, this is a more archaic meaning of the word but this part of the definition sings to me. Nothing I like more than to wander from the main path.

Driving on the main highway and an enticing side road invites you to slow down and discover new things. Do you stay the course or do you digress?

I digress. This I know to be true.

6. Happy is a choice we make for our own life. this I know to be true.
It is not my job, or your job or God's job to make someone happy.
If you spend your time trying to make someone else's life happy, you are assuming responsibility that is not yours. It is also not your business.

Now if you would like to make someone smile, Great! That would be very nice of you, but to dedicate yourself to making that other person always smile is a waste of your life and a waste of theirs.

Helping a person to learn to smile on their own would be a much better use of your time as long as its not the only thing you use your time for.

Also, it is not someone else's job to make you happy! If you think your happiness depends on someone else, well, get used to being sad or a whiny, demanding manipulator.

Being happy is a choice we make, this I know to be true.

These Things I Know To Be True

2011-11-05T14:41:00.000-07:00

The blogging world that I frequent has been presenting blogs about "things" or "Truths" we know for sure. Most are captioned "10 things I know to be true."

I want to play along but I think I am going to do this in series! There is the Time involved and mix in a little humiliation because, quite frankly, I am not really sure I know 10 things for sure!

Socrates said "an unexamined life is not worth living"? I swear, my life is nothing if not self-examined and over-self-examined, but I have never counted or made a list of "Truths According to Toni" or entitled a journal, "Toni's Universal Truths!" Though I confess that my ego and I are quite tickled at the idea of a little leather tome with just such a title etched in gold leaf on itselegant little spine! I would publish it in a New-York-minute if I wasn't so sure that the magnus opus of my life would just sit unsold and un-dusted in a clearance book store at the far side of some factory outlet mall.

Maybe I could talk my friend Brooke into placing it into her library at school and conduct a "token" check-out once a month for the sake of my image to my descendants! (Does one's ego burn up in the cremation process or will it linger about for a century or two still seeking external validation?)

Toni's Universal Truths: These things I know to be true.

1. There is a God.
Frank and I were driving through the mountains last weekend listening to a CD from his repository of inspiring presentations. (digression: (which will be one of the universal truths for me but don't know where on the list) We always take talk-CD's for inspiration, yellow pad and pen for notes, soda on ice to stay hydrated and a loaf of good bread, grapes, cheese and maybe little chipotle chicken strips to keep the growling tummies from interferring with discussions)...so, anyway...
Frank and I, still driving and listening, when the speaker reminded us of the cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin's comment during his flight through space, "I don't see any god up here...". I pushed the button to stop the CD and looked at Frank. He looked at me. Both of us, profoundly saddened by such a statement and the poverty of spirit!

Neither of us can imagine, floating in space, thousands of miles above the earth, surrounded by the dark and stars and wonder...how could one NOT see God!!!

Our old friend, Pastor Jim Ledbetter, once told me if you don't believe in God there is nothing anyone can show you that will make you believe but if you believe in God, everything you see is proof that God is real. I truly see the hand of God in almost everything I see.

What is real? Definition: "real, noun, realm of actual or practical experience as opposed to theoretical, abstract or idealized realm." Do I believe that somewhere there is a throne in heaven and a male-being with a long white beard is sitting there? No, absolutely not, but have I had actual and practical experience with God, hell yeah! Okay, maybe I could have said that better, but I KNOW and BELIEVE with everything in me that a Universal Spirit of unimagined intelligence and passion exists.
There is a God. This much I know to be true.

2. There are Universal Moral Truths.
Truth is not something that should be voted on nor should moral laws. While some things or notions can be declared to be the truth my majority of voters or critical mass or 100th-Monkey-thinking there are some things that are flat out not open for interpretation or relevence.

I feel my whole body slipping back in time now, being drawn back to Ethics class in college (ah, those were the days, oops, digression! ). Ethics: Critical Thinking? Just Wars? Theory of Value? Morality? Yes, that's it, Morality? Are there universal laws ruling morality? I say, again, Hell yeah!

Swept back in time, I sit in the classroom, the heavy, emotional, discussion is about defining morality. How do we define what is moral and what is not? Majority of the students were, apparently, die hard believers in the values of democracy. Opinion was majority rules on what is right and what is wrong? "Is prostitution moral?" "Is rape moral?" Popular opinion in the classroom that evening: What does the majority think? Well, excuse me, who is the majority in any given situation? In a world of 200 sailors, home from years at sea and a village of 20 women and children what do you think the majority is going to vote for?

I tried to explain to class that there has to be a universal moral truth that surpasses democratic principles of voting and majority rules.

In a skilled nursing facility you will usually find a demographic ratio of 30 percent (give or take) Medicare, 60 percent Private Pay and, hopefully (bottom-line-ese) not more than 10% Medicaid/MediCal/Welfare patients. In such an environment the Majority of residents would be paying privately or through insurance. If a vote is taken as to who's call bell should be answered first, the majority might suggest that money talks and money provides privilege. The residents paying their way should get first call (according to last Wednesday;'s vote) but what if the private pay resident just wants someone to fluff a pillow for them or hand them a phone or their knitting and the resident in the non-out-of-pocket-minority of voters is in desperate need of assistance to the bathroom? Morally, who should be served first?

Lets say you desire to get out and dance a little, drink a little, score a little and your dependent child is hungry, dirty, sleepy, or just wants you to hold them? Is there a universal moral answer to this dilemma?

There exists Universal Moral Truths. This much I know to be true.

3. If there is a Heaven it will have Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia in unlimited supplies. This much I know to be true.

4.The spoken and written language is inadequate when it comes to true communication.

Love cannot be described in "real world" terms. When an expectant mother feels that first stir of movement in her womb, an emotion that has been developing (good choice of words, huh?) with the baby reaches a level of intensity that threatens to sweep mother away. How can one describe the intensity of emotion with the mere word "LOVE!"
I love lasagna! I love autumn! I love homemade clam chowder in a sour dough bread bowl! Okay, the word love kind of works there. But I LOVE Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia just falls short. Doesn't quite tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
How can I use that tiny word to pronounce the depth of emotion when holding my husband in my arms in the wee hours of the morning, or when he is teaching one of our granddaughters about clouds or photography?
When I witness a mother giggling with her daughter or a father smiling at his young son as they throw a softball back and forth? LOVE falls short, way too short.
The profound emotion that surges from your heart the very moment your newborn baby utters her first sounds? Can this emotion be described in words?
The consummate grief one feels at the loss of a loved one? Can you tell me in words just how much this hurts?
Psalm 46:10 states (more or less, I am not that good with Aramaic to know the original statement): "Be still and know that I am God."
"Knowing" is very much a way of being still, being passive and letting the truth come to you, allowing the knowing to fill you up. Communication is only part spoken or written word. Communication is about communion.
The spoken and written language is inadequate when it comes to true communication. This much I know to be true.

to be continued:

Seal Talk

2011-11-02T20:55:00.001-07:00

‎"Go get the ball!"
"No, you get it""
"No, YOU get it!"
"SOMEBODY! Get the ball!"

Meeting My Younger Self: Part II

2011-09-04T12:11:00.000-07:00

A year ago, I stumbled on to this little writing exercise on a couple of writer's blogs. I love writing and examining life so I jumped right on it. Revisiting my blog I thought I would do this exercise again (is that against the rules, were there any rules?)

This time,I would go back to have a long talk with my 10 year old self; The following are the questions and answers.

Would your younger self (YYS) recognize you when you first meet?

I would hope that my younger self would recognize me intuitively, but she would definitely see a family resemblance. The 10 year old me was incredibly open and naive, she would believe me when I introduced myself.

Would YYS be surprised to discover what you are doing for work?

No. I've always loved art and writing and children. Though, little Toni would probably be a little disappointed that I hadn't flown through Outer Space or won a Noble Peace Prize or dug up any dinosaur bones in Montana, and that I didn't own a herd of horses.

What piece of fashion advice would you give YYS?

Fashion advice! Really? I think I would tell her to believe in herself and never let fashion define her. I would tell her that the larger world of Fashion is about making women feel bad about being natural and comfortable with themselves. I would tell her to ignore the pictures of celebrities in magazines, they are manipulated images that have turned women into fiction.

"Do as you always do, little Toni. Brush your hair every day, wash your face and brush your teeth and let the You on the inside shine through. Don't invest in all those Raider's t-shirts because in 1972 Al Davis is going to rewrite the general partnership papers for the team and award himself almost complete control and he is going to single-handedly drive our Raiders into the ground. Stick with the Broncos or take a good look at the Steelers. Invest in Loreal!!!

What do you think YYS is most going to want to know?

I am trying to remember what 10 year old me really wanted to know the most. Will life in California be as good as it was in Colorado? I would assure her that life is good but she would, indeed, miss family as much as she thought she would. I would tell her that cousins and grandparents are one of life's greatest blessings, don't let them slip away.

Don't let anyone or anything, but mostly, any one (Anyone, are you listening, little Toni,) Don't let ANYONE stand between you and your family! Write those letters, send them yourself. Make telephone calls and pay the consequences for in the long run you will be blessed. Don't lose track of your cousins. They help you remember where you are from, they help ground you and remind you that you belong.

I would tell her that the drawing of her dream home was fantastic and the ugly comments made about her white picket fence and yellow curtains in the window were not about her drawing and dreams, they were not about her. Don't put your pencils and chalk away, little Toni. Don't let ugliness and resentment affect your life.

Of utmost importance, I would tell her that under no circumstances must she ever, ever, ever go anywhere with her dad's sister. "Keep your eye out for her around your sister and the other cousins, too." I would tell her that when that aunt has a baby girl try to convince everyone, everywhere that the baby needs to live with us, or anyone, other than her crazy-ass mother. (though I wouldn't say "crazy-ass" to little Toni...well, maybe..no, no I wouldn't).

What is something that you probably wouldn’t tell YYS?

I would not tell her about deaths or divorces, I would not tell her about broken hearts except that when her heart gets broken she will come back stronger and braver. That she will eventually find the love of her life. "Don't let the moments of true happiness and bliss pass by unnoticed, Little Toni. Close your eyes and commit those moments to memory. Definitely, remember the smells because when those scents flutter by in the future you will immediately be transported back to those wonderful moments."

What do you think will most surprise YYS about you?

That is a hard question. If she was older, she might be surprised that I outlived my grandmother, but she doesn't know yet that Grandma died, it will still be 4 years before Grandma Rose closed her eyes and didn't open them again.

Maybe what would surprise her the most is that I have learned to stand up for myself and protect myself. Maybe she will be surprised that it took me so long.

At this point in your life, would YYS like to run into “you” from the future?
NO, I don't think so. I look forward to the surprises, the aha's. I don't want to know about the losses. The future me could leave me a note under my pillow though and tell me if my knee ever gets fixed!!!

What about you? What age YOU would you visit? What would you say? What would you take back?

A Character, Better to Lose Than To Find

2011-09-01T09:31:00.001-07:00

Have you ever met someone who was just so shallow that you felt sorry for him?

My husband works with just such a boy. I'll call him Boy-Wonder, not because he reminds me of Batman's sidekick, Robin, but because at his age, it's a wonder he's not more of a man than a spoiled adolescent.

This boy is probably late 20', maybe early 30's. He must be very wounded and that is sad, to start out life under the ladder, having to struggle and climb just to get to break even.

Customers have often complained to my husband that this boy talks down to them. One customer in particular, a professional photographer, won't even go in the store any more because of the condescending attitude of this boy.

The store my husband works for is very well known for the quality of their photo processing. That has truly been their claim to fame. The BEST, absolute best quality photos come out of their lab. A major part of that has been the expertise and dedication of one employee, a young woman who had worked in that lab for the past 16 years. Last month, this woman passed away in her sleep.

Everyone was devastated. My husband was paralyzed with shock when I told him about the phone message his boss had left on our phone. She was so young, just turned 50. A vibrant, healthy person, gone.

Every employee in the store was in a state of bewilderment. How could she be gone. She was there, every morning when every body else arrived. Many of the other employees didn't know of a time when she wasn't there when they came to the store. She was their friend. She was a vital part of the store....a VITAL part of the store.

The store hadn't been open two hours, all the employees standing in a haze of shock, when Boy-Wonder walked up to my husband and another employee and said, "Hate to sound morbid but this really gives us the opportunity to hire someone new for the lab!"

My husband simply walked away. "Is this vomit or disgust rising up my throat?" he was thinking. Probably a little of both, my love.

What happens in a person's life that corrupts the soul so much? How does one become so shallow that life and the loss of life means so little? What happened to you, Boy-Wonder?

Magical Realism

2011-08-29T18:26:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite authors, Sarah Addison Allen. In her own words, her books are all about magical realism. My thought is, of course they are, what other can of realism is there?

Her characters are all quirky, magical and sometimes not even human. A psychic apple tree, books, a lucky red sweater! I love every word and every sentence, but most importantly, I have absolutely no trouble believing it all!

Haven't you ever had a book jump out at you while walking through the aisles of the local library or Barnes and Noble? Ever been stuck in a major dilemma, wondering what to do, asking Source a question and listing your alternatives over and over in your head; then you turn on the television, radio or just walk into a room of strangers and hear the exact words or phrase you needed to resolve the problem?

Life is magical. Anyone who says it's not is living in a dark and dreary dream.

Liv, one of my most magical friends would say that life is numinous. She might reach up first, holding her hands about a half inch from her curly salt and pepper locks at her temples and tweak her amygdala's forward (funny how they always need a little adjustment, amygdala, not locks!). If you take a picture of her she often has various globes floating about her, or a wavy aura. Word to the wise, if Livvie points at you, duck!

Mitch, another mystical friend exuded magic. While escaping from communist Yugoslavia, Alchemy followed and obeyed his every thought. The full moon in the sky was like a spot light on him, pointing him out to border guards. He turned moonlight into cloud cover. When the darkness proved too much he called in the occasional lightening to illuminate the trail and thunder to cover up the noise of scrambling through the underbrush. He escaped the walls of his prison and found that he even had more freedom than the Nazi guards. He believed in magic and freedom of spirit, the guards believed in restrictions and restraints.

My granddaughter, before she believed in the solid world, passed her fingers sideways through my nose. She giggled and said, "Nana, when you are asleep, I can wave my fingers through your nose!" I wasn't asleep, and I felt those little fingers pass through me like ticklish stirrings of air. It was remarkable.

Mary, another one of my magical friends (Happy Birthday, Mary) can read your mind, can find a missing person or your keys by just reaching into the ethers.

Are Liv, Mitch, Jocilyn or Mary more magical than you? Of course not, they just believe in living life to the fullest. They don't believe in limitations. They know in the very deepest part of their souls that everything and anything is possible and they aren't afraid to dip into the possiblities.

Roll your sleeves up, friends. Take a deep breath, sllip that cloak of limitations off your shoulders and make some magic!

A Really Good Man

2011-08-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

The past several weeks I have been searching for an article published in a Reader's Digest Magazine sometime in the mid-to-late 40's. Now I haven't found the article but that hardly means that the search has been unsuccessful. Often, my research projects lead me down paths of numinous wonder! This has been one of those times.

When I was a youngster (literally I was a Young-ster as my maiden name was Young)...I digress, when I was a kid and that petite magazine arrived in the mail in its tight brown wrapper my heart did a little happy dance! Behind The Lines! Life In These United States and my personal favorites: Toward More Picturesque Speech and Quotable Quotes!

Strange to be going through the archives of a magazine, glimpsing our world in the 40's, a world being encouraged to hate, to be afraid yet a world encouraged to have faith, to have hope. Political Correctness was unheard of, apparently. Alas, even with the "not so nice" verbage and philosophy, I still love the magazine and love the trails it leads me down, the treasures it exposes.

One of the monthly offerings was a short personal commentary of someone's "Most Unforgettable Character." Lovely pieces describing personalities and characters of people who had touched one's life.

I am inspired to share a couple of my own Most Unforgettable Characters. First character, my husband. Frank. A man I love, admire and trust, not because he is my husband but because he is, truly, a good man. When I use the word Character, it describes Frank in its fullest definition. He is a man OF character and he IS a character.

He was recently interviewed on a radio show about people who are passionate and purpose directed. What are his passions?...Hmm, thanks for asking!

Frank is passionate about all things sky, by that I mean he loves weather, clouds, astronomy, birds, flying, hang gliding, kites, etc. He also loves family, children, travel, discovery. He lives to be outside, and has spent the first two weeks of Daylight Savings Time, every October that I've known him, complaining about what a waste "darkness" is. How can he blow leaves on the driveway or clean rain gutters in the dark?

He has a work ethic that has no end. If I had my own company I would want a dozen Frank's working for me. He goes to work early, stays late and works 7 days a week if that's what it takes to get the job done. He doesn't stop at getting the job done but always goes beyond. In fact, he has been working 7days a week until about three weeks ago when his boss finally told him he could take Wednesday's off!

He works at Crown Camera in Redding, California. He has worked there for over 22 years. Photography is another one of his passions but like everything about Frank, there is a back story to the passion.

When he was a young boy someone gave him an old camera. He experimented with picture taking, the desert, some old cars, odds and ends. In high school he took photography and joined the photo club. He enjoyed the creativity and processes. Not a passion yet, but an interest, something fun to do in the few moments of spare time that he had. Frank had very few "spare moments". From the time he was 12 he was working. The oldest of 10 kids, he helped run the family business after school and in the summer, eventually taking over the running of it while his father worked a second job. Frank has basically worked full time since the age of 12.

Shortly after his 18th birthday, his father died of complications from open heart surgery. Frank gathered all the photos he could find of his dad. He wanted to make sure there were copies for everyone. It was vital to him that his little brothers and sisters have pictures of Frank Sr., he wanted his dad remembered. What if the little kids couldn't remember Dad's smile or his wavy black hair?

When Frank went back to the photo lab to pick up the precious pictures his heart was crushed and a passion was born. The lab had lost all the photos. No copies were made, no originals to be given back. No photos of his father to keep the memory alive in his nine brothers and sisters!

That was the day when Frank realized how truly vital photography is. Nothing is more important to most of us than family. Recording family memories, reminders of times shared with those we love, images of those familiar faces, smiles and even frowns became a priority in Frank's life.

Why is he successful at Crown Camera? Because he believes in photography and he believes in people. He knows that it is different for each person who walks in the swinging door on Market Street. He wants to help you record your history, your passions, your gardens, your kids, your grandparents...your dads!

If you have met my husband, in the store or out, you know that he is all about getting those pictures and printing them. I often wonder why I don't hear him whisper in his dreams at night, "...get those pictures off your hard drive and print them!..." He knows the pain of lost images, he doesn't want you to lose your connection with the past and lost loved ones.

Frank is passionate about teaching people to take the best pictures you can! He is passionate about matching you with a camera or equipment that you will be comfortable with and that you will use. He could sell you a camera with all the bells and whistles but unless you have the experience and expertise, he never would. He wants you to use your camera. A camera sitting on the shelf gathering dust because you are afraid of it is not what he is about.

Our phone often rings at odd hours of the day, from sun up to awesome sun downs! "Frank! How do I capture this sunset?" "Frank, there are too many shadows, what should I do?" He loves those calls, because when he hangs up he knows that you are going to be so happy with your photo that you will take more.

He takes people out on the river trail or sits at our kitchen table to help them learn their camera, their new lens or just learn about composition. Ever the teacher, Frank is definitely in his element helping others be the best they can be or doing the best they can.

What else about my Frank? He is just as passionate about having fun and he is also passionate about God. He is one of the most spiritual men I have ever met. Not a man who preaches his religion to others, or judges others because of their beliefs, but a man who nurtures a personal relationship with God, every day.

There is a Perpetual Adoration room at our church, a part of the church to sit, quietly with Christ through the Eucharist. It is manned 24 four hours a day, 7 days a week. Frank has attended Adoration every Saturday morning at 1:00 a.m. for a quiet hour of prayer and has been for about 10 years. It is the rare Saturday that he is not there. He also sits in prayer and adoration on Monday's at 6 p.m. and at 1 a.m. one Friday morning a month for the Knights of Columbus. He is a Eucharistic Minister and has often conducted communion services for shit-ins and taken Communion to nursing home residents. Frank has taught Altar Servers, training them not only what to do during Mass but teaching Servers "why" they do what they do during mass, always emphasizing "reverence".

He taught RCIA classes at Our Lady of Mercy for a couple of years. He loved sharing his faith with returning Catholics and those new to the faith. Now one might think that Frank would have a "know-it-all" kind of attitude but nothing could be further from the truth. He searches every day for a closer relationship with God and a deeper understanding of his faith. Often exclaiming out loud, with joy, of his newest "aha moment!"

Frank is a good man, a really good man.

Oh, at last but not least, one of my most favorite things about Frank? He makes me feel cherished! And that, my friends, is a good thing!

Once Upon a Time: A Story

2011-06-23T20:04:00.000-07:00

Once Upon a Time, as the story always goes, there lives a marvelously imaginative little girl. Her name is Alaina.

Now, Alaina is very much like you and me. She has a big sister, a cat named Monkey, 5 dogs (4 huskies and a hound) and a large aquarium full of fish. She sleeps in a bed with three pillows, a pink paisley quilt and 27 stuffed animals. She sometimes eats cereal for breakfast but her favorite breakfast is pancakes or waffles, pass the whipped cream and strawberries please! She loves hamburgers and pizza but she really, really, really doesn’t like mustard or potatoes. Everyone always looks at her with disbelief and wrinkles in their eyebrows when she doesn’t eat her french fries or says “No, thank you”, to servings of mashed potatoes.

Alaina has blonde hair and big brown eyes, though sometimes if you glimpse her dancing down the hallway you might think her hair is pink or shiny black or striped in shades of blue and purple. You might think she is wearing a princess ballgown but when you look again you see that she is just wearing her pajamas. Sometimes, if you walk into Alaina’s bedroom you might hear her stuffed animals talking to her.

You see, Alaina’s imagination is soooooo big that it fills the room and, very often, leaks into your head!

One hot summer afternoon, Alaina and her sister Jocilyn, decided that it was just too hot to go outside and really, they were very tired of being stuck indoors.

“I know” said Alaina, “Let’s go deep sea diving and visit the sea horses and starfish!”

“Mommy,” Jocilyn asked, “Can Alaina and I go exploring in the ocean?”

Mommy was teaching one of their husky puppies to sit and, if you know huskies, they don’t like to be taught to do anything unless it is their idea! So, mommy was a little distracted.

“Sure!” Mommy answered, holding the treat above Cooper’s head, “Just try to be back in time for dinner!”

Alaina ran into her room and swooped a deep blue cover from her blanket chest. It was so soft and had long fringy things on the edges. Running back to the dining room, she motioned for Jocilyn to sit on the cool tile floor and Alaina sat down beside her, much like Little Miss Muffet’s friend the spider.

Sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce, the girls spread the blanket over the top of them.

“Ooooooh,” said Alaina, “I like it down here in the ocean!”

“Look at those shells!” exclaimed Jocilyn. “Hey, there is a hermit crab living in that one!”

“Jocilyn!, Jocilyn!” shouted Alaina, “Look at that octopus, they really do have eight legs! How do they dance with so many legs?”

Sponges here and there on the ocean bottom, moved so very slowly and tiny little schools of orange and yellow and sparkling blue fish darted in and out of swaying plants.

“Have you ever seen a mermaid down here?” her sister asked Alaina.

“Of course, I have! They always seem to know when I visit! Here comes one now.” Alaina said, as she pointed to the west.

It was hard to see the mermaid at first because the scales on her tail were the same color as the ocean, sea green and aqua blue. As she came closer her tale became very shiny.

The mermaid nodded her head and greeted them, “Hello, Girls! Have you come for a tour?”

Alaina smiled and introduced her sister to the beautiful sea creature.

“Glad to make your acquaintance, Jocilyn!” she said. “Come, follow me!” She took hold of each of the girls hands and together they continued to swim.

A giant blue shadow floated above them. Ah, a whale on its way to Alaska!

Balloons with long legs floated by…”Jocilyn, look, jelly fish!”

They saw bright red star fish with many, many, many arms. They saw purple starfish with just 5 arms.

“Here come the seahorses!”

“Oh my,” sighed Jocilyn, "I just love seahorses."

There was a tall forest of seaweed. “This is kelp,” said the mermaid. They kicked their legs and made their way through the long flat leaves.

The mermaid smiled really big and squeezed their hands, “Look",she said, "Here comes a very good friend of mine!”

An immense turtle was swimming towards them. If turtles can smile, I do believe this one was smiling.

“Jocilyn, Alaina, this is …”

“We know, we know!” shouted the girls. “You are Chelonis! You are the great seafaring turtle!”

“Nice to meet you, young ladies. Climb onto my shell, all three of you!” ‘the giant grandfatherr turtle winked at them and they continued their adventure under the waves of the deep blue ocean.

A long, long shadow started to follow them. The mermaid was looking over her shoulder and getting a little fidgety. “I am afraid we have uninvited company,” she said.

The turtle slowly turned in the water. Everyone gasped as an enormous great white shark came into view. “Hold on tight, girls” said Chelonis, “I think we can out run him!”

“Wait!” shouted Jocilyn, “I’ve read about sharks, I know how to make him go away!”

Jocilyn eased herself to the edge of the turtle and braced herself. The shark was swimming in circles around them. With each circle, it came closer and closer. They could see rows and rows of scary, sharp teeth in the sharks huge mouth. It continued to circle, coming closer and closer still.

Just as the shark suddenly turned to attack, Jocilyn made a big fist and punched the menacing sharkt right in the end of its long nose! The shark winced hard and hightailed it off into the dark depths of the ocean.

“Yay” everyone shouted, “good for you, Jocilyn!”

“Girls…..Girls” Jocilyn and Alaina could hear Mommy calling them. “Time to clean up for dinner girls.”

“Bye!” said Jocilyn to her new friends
.

“Bye!” said Alaina to her new friends, “We’ll be back!”

The girls threw the blanket off of them and headed to clean up for dinner.

“Wait!” said Mommy. “You forgot to put the blanket back where you got it!”

Too late, the girls were already down the hall, talking to each other about their adventure.

Mommy picked up the blanket to fold it and put it away.

“What is this?” Mommy asked herself. The blanket was a little bit wet. When she looked down at the floor there was a long piece of seaweed, a tiny periwinkle sea shell in a couple of drops of water where the girls had been sitting.

Mommy just smiled. She knew that nothing is better than a strong imagination!

Reading to Children

2011-06-20T23:48:00.000-07:00

Reading. Reading. Reading. I love to read. I read everything and I can't remember a time when I didn't read everything....everything! Milk cartons, cereal boxes, if it had print on it, I read it.

Reading to my children and grandchildren is also, a great joy for me. Somewhere I read that a young child was asked how he knew his daddy loved him and he answered, "Because he doesn't skip any pages when he reads me a story!" Wise Daddy!

Reading to children opens up new worlds to them; enriches their lives. Reading introduces children to cultures and ideas, consequences of choices and critical thinking. They learn correct pronunciation and language skills. Reading enriches vocabulary.

When you read aloud do you read all at the same tone and tempo or do you find your voice fluctuating in resonance? Do your characters all speak alike or do some squeak while others kind of grumble? Do some sound French while others sound like they are from the deep south?

Do you want to truly give the children in your life a gift? Read aloud and read with exuberance. Enunciate and exaggerate! Entertain and delight! Vary your face and your pace, and, for the sake of all that is holy, stop looking at your damn watch!

Father's Day...a message to Dads.

2011-06-06T15:35:00.000-07:00

Father's Day is right around the corner. A day to celebrate Dads around the world. We need to thank Sonora Smart Dodd for launching the idea of a Father's Day.

In 1909 she was listening to a sermon regarding Mother's Day. Her mother had died and her father had raised her and her siblings pretty much by himself. She decided to honor him and pay tribute to his courage and sacrifices by celebrating the first Father's Day on his birthday, June 19th.

She later solicited an official Father's Day but it was not well accepted. People made a joke of it. In 1913 it was made official but wasn't really approved until Woodrow Wilson showed support for the holiday in 1916. Since then we have honored our fathers with a day of their own....but wait...it is only the one day a year, the rest of the year the media invades our homes and portrays fathers, and men in general, as idiots, derelicts and morons. They have basically become the laughing stock of our culture and commercial television!

Fathers on television can't make toast without burning the house down. Male bashing is in. If aliens landed today, after monitoring our televisions for a year or two, I am sure they would believe the average american male over 21 to have an IQ of about 23....32 max. Then, as they age, their IQ drops drastically!

Why do we allow this? What young boy wants to see role models who are good only for their paycheck? Can't cook, better order pizza. What about the idiot who goes to Vegas and calls wifey to say he lost his "chips!" Why do we purchase products that portray our men in such dismal light? Young girls are not inspired to raise their sights on men of character and values...according to our media, those men do not exist.

Can we please have some decent television and commercials that sell an idea or product without bashing men, (or women or children!) How about honoring people? What about "at no one's expense" and "love thy neighbor"?

That said.....Have you watched any HGTV lately? All the men on the shows talk about their dream for a "man cave"....man cave....man cave....man cave! Each guy wants his man cave....a nice big room where he can be alone with his "man friends" and his "big man tv". A place where he can shut out his wife and his kids.

After spending his 40 or 50 hours away from home he wants to isolate himself for his Sunday games and playoffs and whatever else a man cave is for. Most of these men are also looking for a nice big PRIVATE office space, another door shut on the kids and wife.

Hey, I like a little down time myself. Nothing better than a quiet moment of rest and recuperation but, geez, how about staying single and getting yourself a real cave?

If you want to be a father and you have children then sit in the family room with them, let them crawl on your lap, let them ask you questions about why the sky is blue....be a participating cog in the family not a missing one!

Oh, and Happy Father's Day, ya'll!

Bread

2011-06-05T14:17:00.000-07:00

My grandmother Rose has been on my mind this morning. Grandma, bread, and Jesus! What a mix, huh?

Do you ever have those days when there is a swirl of thought carried by its own energy in and out of your head, around your body, peeking out at you from behind every door and curtain? There is a strong essence of something divine in the energy but nothing that I can grab. It's real enough that I know that I should be able to at least smell it; I feel it but it swirls just above the fine hair on my arms, just out of reach. Teasing me to stretch, search, find.

Bread is very much a part of this mystery today. Of course, when I think of bread I think of Grandma. Anyone who was gifted a thick slice of her fresh home baked bread right out of the oven, would claim, "Aha, this is where the divine comes in!' Her bread was definitely heaven sent!

If you have not experienced baking bread with a beloved grandmother you are definitely missing one of the finest blessings of life. Sifting flour, tossing in a bit of this and a bit of that, watching timeworn hands kneading and kneading with a soulful rhythm, all the while surrounded by unconditional love. Watching the little towel rise as the dough grows under it.

There may be scientific reasons why dough rises but I always felt the small ball of dough doubled and tripled in size because Grandma's love was being absorbed be the bread. That's what made it so truly delicious.

In ancient times, the women who baked the bread, who kneaded the dough, had to go to confession prior to making bread. It was believed that sin and negativity would infiltrate the cells of the bread. In Bulgaria the dough for the special bread of holy days was mixed with "silent water," water brought from the wells by a virgin maiden in absolute silence. Flowers and herbs were then soaked in the water to flavor it, then only a young girl or newly married woman could knead the dough. Only someone filled with love and joy.

Sadly, today, in a world where tradition is laughed at and rituals, other than daily flossing, are the target of scorn, kneading dough is being discarded. Many new cookbooks are suggesting "knead-less" recipes. Dough is made with extra liquid and stored in the refrigerator for several days to do its gluten-thing. Where is the soul in that? Where is the love? Talk about a white bread with nothing to offer but air. Where is the intention of purpose? Sad, very, very sad.

To "break bread" with another is about making peace, sharing, to engage and partner. How can a mess of soupy flour and water, sitting in a bowl in the coldness of a darkened, noisy refrigerator ever be worthy of the ritual and humanity of breaking bread?

A starter is a piece of dough in which yeast is continually reproducing with regular help from the baker. Sourdough breads need a starter. San Francisco's famous Boudin sourdough bread is still made from a starter created prior to 1849. This starter or "mother dough" as it is often called, was rescued from the bakery in San Francisco during the earthquake of 1906. Mrs Boudin carried the mother dough in a bucket to Golden Gate Park where she continued to bake the famous bread until they reopened the bakery at a new location. Can you imagine, a mother dough more than a hundred years old!

In ancient times daily breads were typically made from barley. Wheat was only used for special occasions, for holy days. I often wonder why we have so many wheat allergies today, is it because we are over indulging in the holy without the reverence?

When I was a young woman I had an old neighbor who was from Greece. Mr. Macdemus. What a wonderful character he was. He walked with a cane and came through the fence often to see my garden. He made fun of my garden because I had pretty ribbons tied here and there and my garden beds were not straight rows. I planted beds of companion plants, veggies and fruits that liked each other and tasted good together. If they taste good together they always grow better together!

One day he was at the house when I was making sandwiches for the kids. I placed a loaf of bread on its side! Thump! He whacked me with his cane. (he always did alot more whacking with it than walking with it). He admonished me about my lack of reverence for bread, the staple and icon of life. "Jesus chose bread to share his body with humanity!" he exclaimed. "Never, ever handle it without reverence and always place it in an upright position!"

So, today, Grandma, Bread and Jesus and I guess, Mr. Macdemus are gently making themselves known to me today...good day to bake some bread.

A Random Thought.....Rutabaga! Seriously?

2011-05-29T05:36:00.000-07:00

Rutabaga...root bag! Isn't that what you would call your little brother when he has annoyed the hell out of you for the million-teenth time? How could this be something you would want to invest time in cooking let alone putting it on your plate or serving it to company?

Poor vegetable. It not only has one of the worst names but it looks bruised and beaten. It is a cross between cabbage and a turnip....really? God, were you really tired the day you invented the rutabaga? You even hid the poor thing underground!

In Scotland this root bag is called a "neep" and in England (hold the respect) it is a "snaggers". Yum...not!
But then, the Brits call beets "mangelwurzel"!

Uh...please pass the carrots!

Thunder.....oh yeah

2011-05-28T18:03:00.000-07:00

Thunder thunder
rumble and roar,
close the windows
and lock the door.

Do you remember this poem from grade school? Close the windows and lock the door? Not at our house.

We are a household that throws open the doors and windows. We watch and we wait. We count moments from flash to rumble. Eyebrows raise the closer it gets! All the better if the hair on our arms and neck stands at attention while the goose bumps race to the top of our heads.

"Open the doors. It is warm;
And where the sky was clear--
Look! The head of a storm
That marches here!" (Mark Van Doren)

Thunder, glorious to some, damn scary to others. Gather the candles! Where is that flashlight?
Don't answer the phone...(in the old days of land lines...the lightening could get you). Get out of the tub or the shower!

No fear here. Thunder is therapy. It's rumbles cleanse. The sudden burst of light in the lightening, the salvo, growling low and building as it nears, purging sins and wounds from heart and soul.

"The farthest Thunder that I heard
Was nearer than the Sky
And rumbles still, though torrid Noons
Have lain their missiles by --
The Lightning that preceded it
Struck no one but myself --
But I would not exchange the Bolt
For all the rest of Life ..." Emily Dickenson

Have you ever made a declaration and a sudden clap of thunder attests that, if not God,

at least the heavens above are in full agreement?  Ah, synchronization of heaven and earth,

truth and faith!

Did you know that you can make thunder?  We have all done so at one time or another and

 don't even know that we have mimicked Zeus or Thor or even Chaac, the Mayan god of thunder.

Blow up a small paper bag and then pop it. Bang,  the air inside has expanded quickly,

just as it does when it is heated by lightning.

Same principle but gods do things so much bigger!

Married 27 Years

2011-05-27T10:48:00.000-07:00

My husband and I celebrated our 27th wedding anniversary yesterday. It was a joyful celebration.

Like any couple we have had our up and downs but truly more ups and the longer we are together the ups just keep coming.

I met Frank over 30 years ago. I was an Information Specialist (Tour Guide) for the Bureau of Reclamation at Shasta Dam, he was a Hang Glider Pilot. At the beginning of a tour one hot afternoon, while standing on top of the dam a big shadow sped across all of us and we heard a shout, "Look up!"

We looked up and there was Frank, gliding over the dam, using the lift from the heat off the concrete. He looked like a giant blue caterpillar, hanging from his glider. Ever the photographer, he had a camera attached to the far side of a wing.

Well, no one wanted to hear about Shasta Dam, or the Central Valley Project or anything, except the Hang Gliders and their pilots. "Where do the launch?" "Where do they land?" "Who are these daredevils?" "How do you get to the launch?" "Do they ever land in the river?" The rest of the tour was all about hang gliding.

Later, that afternoon, I was sitting in the tower, a highly coveted spot for us tour guides, away from the politics of the visitor center. I was reading a book that had been passed from one guide to another, a little bit of a no-no, but sometimes you could sit in the tower for hours and never have any one come in to ask about the next tour or the dam.

In walks this very nice looking man. I quickly put the book on my knee and then pushed it up against the bottom of the table, holding it by keeping my foot on its toes. He came in and told me he was the pilot who flew over my tour. He sat down across from me and we started to talk. After about 5 minutes, he smiled and told me, "You can take that book out from under the table, your leg is getting shaky!"

He was very nice. He was interesting. He was a City of Redding fireman. We talked a little longer and then he left.

A week or two later he came back, but this time he had a friend with him, this time he had an audience and this time he was a jerk! Yup, a jerk.

He came in many more times while I was working there. When he was alone, he was very nice. I enjoyed our visits. Whenever he came in with one of his cohorts, if I caught sight of them before he came into the visitor center, I would usually grumble to my fellow guides, "I'm going in the back, call me when this jerk leaves!" The rest of my tenure at the dam, I avoided him if I could.

Shortly after being riffed from the Bureau, I was hired by a home health agency. I was spinning blood for hematocrits at a local health fair. I looked up from the spinner and saw a vaguely familiar looking man standing in line at another booth. God's honest truth, he was in color and everyone else in my vision faded to shades of gray. I do tend to see people's auras but this was different. Way different!

He was looking at me. When he saw that I was looking at him, he turned his attention back to the line he was in.

I was intrigued! How could it be that he was in full technicolor and everyone else had faded into a colorless background? I still remember what he was wearing, white linen trousers, royal blue yoked t-shirt and a royal blue zip-front sweatshirt, Everytime I looked up, I caught him watching me. Then he disappeared. I was sad.
Who was that man?

Maybe half and hour later, he was standing at our booth, signing his name and medical release. I walked over to him.

"Hi, I'm Toni, You probably noticed that I was watching you when you were standing in that other line," I said. "but I noticed that you were looking at me too!"

"No, I wasn't!" was his response. No, I wasn't? No, I wasn't? I have no time for this guy, sign from god or not!

"Well, then screw you!" I shrugged my shoulders and walked away.

"Wait, wait!" he said with a look of shock on his face! "I was looking at you!"

We drew his blood and while it was spinning, we talked. We have been talking ever since.

He asked me out for dinner. I told him he didn't want to date me. "I have three kids," I told him, "They go where I go and usually a couple of their friends, so wherever I go I usually have about six kids with me!"

"I'm the oldest of 10!" he answered.

I discovered over the years that he is passionate about all-things-sky, clouds, weather, birds, stars. He is passionate about photography. He is passionate about science and technology. He is a deeply spiritual and religious man, a devout catholic. He loves our grandchildren more than life itself and never passes up the opportunity to teach them something or to let them know how proud of them he is and how much they are loved. He has a photographic memory for numbers and science, but, can't remember anyone's name to save his life. He does not believe he knows it all, he reads and reads and reads. I believe he wakes every morning, looking forward to what he may learn this day!

He is my best friend. It is a good feeling, to know that you are loved and cherished, and he makes me feel that in many ways. He is romantic, he is funny, he is sexy, he is passionate, he is Frank. I love him. I am looking forward to the next 27 years with him.

Trinity Lake

2011-05-15T15:43:00.000-07:00

Don't you just love the mountains? The sounds of the wind blowing through the pines, the call of the osprey as it glides through the sky, the smell of pine, forest soil rich in its own mulch and, mostly, the smell and energy of adventure!

I was born and raised in Colorado and spent many, many days in the Rockies. Camping near a creek or river, sitting on a big rock watching my dad fish, running through the woods with my sister and brother. Now I live in Redding near the Sacramento River so I am surrounded by mountains on three sides. Though I can see them everyday it just isn't the same as being in them, part of them, in their mystical energy.

Pretty often my husband and I pack the car with our cameras, a quilt and pillows, lunch, color pencils and drawing pad and head off into the mountains for our fix!

Yesterday, we drove into the west, on Highway 299, headed for Trinity Lake. Not a spectacular day for photography with the cloud cover and wind but a great day for sweethearts to just drive and talk and be.

Trinity Lake is a man made lake, doesn't matter though, its gorgeous. Surrounded by tall trees, marshes and wonderful mountains, it invites one to sit still and be a part of it. "Join me in my celebration of life," it invites you with the whispering of the trees and the waves lapping against the shore.

Trinity Dam was built by the Bureau of Reclamation in the early 60's, maybe finished in 1964, if I remember correctly. The lake was originally named Trinity Lake and later changed to Claire Engle Lake after the U.S. Congressman and Senator. Born in Bakersfield and grew up in Red Bluff, Mr. Engle loved the northstate.

He lost his voice due to a brain tumor and still fought, without a the aide of speech, the building of nuclear power plants in San Francisco. Even though the name of the lake was officially changed to Clair Engel, it didn't catch on. The people of Trinity County are total mountain people and, by god, no one is the boss of them. They stuck to the name Trinity Lake and today it is once again, Trinity Lake.

I think there are about 147 miles of shoreline, though it might be 127, still substantial but way smaller than Lake Shasta which boasts 365 miles of shoreline. I have often wondered what it would be like to take a year and hike the lake, one mile per day! I know myself though and am sure I would find a nice beach or nice inlet and stay 5 days and make it up on the 6th day!

We've camped on the shores of both lakes many times, skied on the waters in the hot summer and sang and laughed around campfires at night. While camping at Trinity, my husband and I kidnapped a pair of Seattle Seahawk sweatshirts from some friends. My sister and I photographed the poor sweatshirts in all manner of degradation, sleeping in the doorway of the bus station in the middle of the night, sitting at a dive bar with empties all around, hitchhiking along the road in the bad side of town! We sent the photos to the owners with a ransom note...I don't remember how the sweatshirts were returned but I don't believe the ransom was paid. Our Seahawk friends remained Seattle fans and would not come over to the dark side, the black and silver of the Raiders.

Yesterday, we parked at the side of one of the marshes. Binoculars and cameras in hand we hiked around, discovered wildflowers bursting in color here and there, birds galore flitting about and watching us. One osprey whistled as it soared above our heads. A little family of Canada Geese floated by. They, too, watched and studied us and we studied them.

We found a pine cone that had been completely dismantled and all the nuts broken open, little chew marks here and there. Deer tracks, raccoon tracks..."Frank, is this a bear track?"

Back in the car we drove further until we found the campground we shared so many wonderful memories with good friends. We stopped, wandered around the shoreline, remembering the breakfasts around the fire, cold mountain air, a big cup of coffee sweetened with a large portion of Baileys or Emmetts. Is anything better then smelling the smoke from last night's fire in your hair and clothes? Looking across the fire and seeing friends, sleep still in their eyes, bed hair and smiles!

All alone in the campground we even did a little making out...my husband is a really good kisser!

It was a good day!

A Mother's Heart

2011-05-09T11:24:00.000-07:00

Being a mom is the most precious blessing in the world. Having a mom is the second most precious blessing in the world. There are those blessings though that come with pain, an agony so deep that only death can relieve it, maybe. Maybe the burn is that it stays with you after death, maybe hell was designed from the wounds of a child who had not felt a mother's love. Maybe the architect of hell was a mother whose anguish came from feeling the disdain of her child, a child she has loved more than life.

My dear friend Mitch told me an old Serbian story, a story that defines a Mother's love. I'd like to share it.

There was an old woman who had raised her children. They had all left home and made lives for themselves. Some lived near and some lived far.

Her oldest son, who loved her dearly, still lived close by, just a short walk through the forest. He visited his mother often. Taking her cheese from the village and sometimes bringing in wood for her fire. His wife really didn't like these visits. She felt that it took time away from her. She really was quite jealous of his mother. She could not understand love that was without conditions, love that was without boundaries.

When the son would come home from visits with his mother, bringing a fresh loaf of bread from his mother's oven or a small jar of his mother's jam, the wife would become hysterical. She would demand that he throw the bread out. She would accuse him of loving his mother more than her.

The young man tried all that he could to prove to his wife how much he loved her. He stopped going to his mother's house for visits at his wife's insistence.

He still had to hunt in the forest near her home. When he would return home with a dove or a rabbit his wife would accuse him of visiting his mother's home. "But you were in the forest near her home!" She would scream. He stopped hunting in the forest at his wife's insistence.

Walking down the village lane, shopping at the open market, the man and wife happened along his mother as she traded some eggs for cheese. The young man wrapped his arms around his mother and gave her the biggest hug. His wife lifted her skirts and stormed off towards home.

"You love her more than me!" the wife ranted at her husband when he returned home.

"Sweetheart, I love you! You are my wife. She is only my mother." The young man tried and tried to make her understand the difference between the love of a mother and the love of a wife. She would have nothing to do with it.

"Prove your love for me!" she demanded.

"Anything, my love, anything!"

Kill your mother and bring me her heart. He could see how intent his wife was. If he didn't commit this abominable deed he would lose the love of his life. He agreed.

He went to the village and bought a big wheel of his mother's favorite cheese and fresh strawberries that his mother loved so much. He presented the gifts to his mother and when she turned her back to prepare some of the berries and cheese for her son he drove a knife into her back.

He wrapped her heart with the scarf from her head and placed the bundle into his leather pack. Headed straight home to present the bleeding heart to his wife, tears streamed down his face. The dark of the forest and the tears made it difficult to see the path. He begin to walk faster and faster. He was almost running when his foot caught on a root and flying he went.

His face and knees and hands were skinned and bleeding, thorns and pebbles embedded in his palms and his knees. His mother's heart flew from the satchel, unrolled from the scarf as it bounced, coming to rest at his side. Gently, the heart whispered, "Are you okay, my son?"

When Our President Said, "I Did It"

2011-05-07T15:26:00.000-07:00

One of my friends changed her status on Facebook. "Bin Ladin is dead."

What? I ran to the living room where my husband was reading the newspaper. I turned on the tv and, wow, it was everywhere. Depending on what channel we watched the story was different. I remember when I was a kid and watched the news, it seemed that news had to be confirmed before it was reported, but today, any rumor is reported as factual. the clowns that report the news were reporting it all, "Huge shoot out," "Been dead for over a week" etc.

The President comes to the screen. He confirms that, finally, Osama Bin Ladin, the evil architect of 9/11 is dead.Was killed just hours earlier. In his speech he used the word "I" several times. The final order to "Go" came from him. Ultimately, the decision to kill OBL came from our President. The Ultimate responsibility was President Obama's.

Oh the backlash! "he's taking credit, must be an election year," "boy is our president taking all the glory," everything from A to Z.

Then came the confirmation of Bin Laden's death from Al Qaeda and with that confirmation came the promises of retaliation and revenge.

When our president stepped onto that platform and said, "I did it" he knowingly placed a huge target on himself and his family. Could you do that? If you had two precious little daughters and a beautiful wife who have to live in the world, would you get on national tv and announce to the bad guys that you are responsible for killing their leader?

Would you be prepared to carry that target for the rest of your life? Al Qaeda is an extremist terrorist group. We all know what they are capable of. Do you have the courage to do what Mr. Obama did?

A Prayer for May 1, 2011

2011-05-01T22:11:00.000-07:00

NOW I LAY ME DOWN TO SLEEP...

ONE LESS TERRORIST THIS WORLD DOES KEEP...

WITH ALL MY HEART, I GIVE MY THANKS...

TO THOSE IN UNIFORM, REGARDLESS OF RANKS...

YOU SERVE OUR COUNTRY AND SERVE IT WELL..

.WITH HUMBLE HEARTS YOUR STORIES TELL...

SO AS I REST MY WEARY EYES..

.WHILE FREEDOM RINGS, OUR FLAG STILL FLIES...

YOU GIVE YOUR ALL, DO WHAT YOU MUST..

.WITH GOD WE LIVE AND IN GOD WE TRUST! AMEN

I did not write this and don't know who did but I thought I would share it.

Audio, Video, Disco

2011-05-01T19:57:00.000-07:00

Did you take Latin in high school? I did. I was headed for college for pre-med and my counselor advised me to take German and Latin. German was fun, Mr. Allen, my teacher was a hoot but we will leave Mr. Allen for another day, another blog.

Latin class, however, was very...well, difficult! Not the learning of Latin but being in a public school with a teacher who was also my catechism teacher at St Lucy's Catholic Church. I was a little bit of a disruptive student in religious class, asking many, many questions. When I showed up in Mr. Loring's latin class I am sure I saw his head shake and might have even heard a little prayer escape from his lips, "Why me, God?"

I did receive an A in the class but it was an uphill battle all the way....I did not take a second year of Latin! but I most definitely continued my catechism classes.

I discovered that Latin is fun though. I especially love Latin mottoes. Latin adds a touch of sophistication, a distinguishable aura to a phrase. Can you imagine the Captain of a ship, standing at the helm, sword in hand, demanding obedience from his sailors, "A Mari Usque Ad Mare?" Captain Jack Sparrow is the sexiest pirate "from sea to sea" but A Mari Usque Ad Mare makes one forget about the poor hygiene, me thinks!

For all of you who think that we are not a Christian Nation, a quick peek at the dollar bill should change your mind. Latin phrases on it are sprinkled all over our currency. Other than "In God We Trust" there is the phrase "Annuit Cœptis", literally translated, "He approves of the undertakings"! Some may certainy argue that may mean has approved but no one disagrees with who the He is. It definitely wasn't King George! Of course, adding the national seal with it's "Deo Favente" (with God's Favor) seals the deal....no pun intended! By the way, speaking of the National Seal, there is also the word "Perennis" at the bottom of the pyramid which means Everlasting. That would seem to imply that God approves the undertakings forever. Hmm, I bet He's not very happy with us at the moment.

Surely, you have all heard Carpe Diem! Seize the Day! Get out there and do it! Live! The phrase, I believe came from Horace and the whole phrase is Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero – "Seize the Day, putting as little trust as possible in the future." My take on that? Drink your wine today folks, there might not be a tomorrow!

In the Gospel of John, verse 8:32, John pens Veritas vos liberabit or Veritas liberabit vos. "The truth shall set you free." Especially, if you listen to me and drink your wine today! Doesn't have to be wine! How does one say, Eat your Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia today, there might not be a tomorrow!

Nec Temere, Nec Timide translates to Neither rashly nor timidly and is the motto of the Royal Danish Naval Academy and the University of Edinburgh. It reminds me of Dylan Thomas' poem.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

We all call our old school or university our Alma Mater. Did you know that means Nourishing Mother?

Wish I'd had one of those; nourishing mother, that is, not a university! Speaking of mother, I believe her motto could have been, "Conlige suspectos semper habitos" "Round up the usual suspects!" Just ask my brother and sister!

Want to be your very best? Your motto could be "Ad alta" - To the summit! Maybe you are a little learning challenged you might adopt the call, "Ad astra per aspera" - To the stars through difficulty! But then again, why ask for trouble, shorten your motto to "Ad astra"- To the stars. Short, Sweet and can be embroidered on your baseball cap!

How many professors have had this little adage on their desks, or at least wished they had it? "Disce aut discede"? Learn or leave!

"Audio, video, disco." Believe it or not, this is a famous Latin adage - I hear, I see, I learn. Now that is just wrong! It seems to me the interpretation should be I rock, I play, I dance! My argument that Latin is not a dead language but a language that is adapting!

My personal favorite? Aut viam inveniam aut faciam! Translation: I will either find a way or make one! Yes, one can fit a square peg in a round hole!

And you? What are you thinking of my little blog today? What can you dress up with a bit of latin?

Mottos To Live By

2011-04-20T13:12:00.000-07:00

"At No One's Expense" has long been my personal adage, though, at times, I don't live up to it, (Just ask my children). I do try. I really do. It is important to me that I hurt no one and that any actions on my part would only help those around me, help them feel better about themselves or to know that they are loved.

I like the brevity of "At No One's Expense." Meaningful. Concise. Brief enough to embroider on a pillow if I so choose to. To date, I don't chose to! While a statement that is "curtailed of its fair proportions" is easy to embroider it lacks in the finer details.

My mini-mission for the month of April, is to find my own motto, to delve and explore, explore and delve into life mottos, (great way to put-off-until-tomorrow more responsible chores).

Wanderings through the archives of adages and maxims has definitely scratched parts of my heart and brain. Some make me wish I was more courageous, some inspire me to fly inspite of my totally debilitating fear of heights. Some hint that my level of self esteem and self worth may be sorely lacking and others suggest that I "get over myself!"

John F. Kennedy inspires me with "Conformity is the jailer of freedom and the enemy of growth."

After years and years of hacking away at comformity in my life I've come to realize that the older I grow the more non-conformists I see who look exactly like me!

Judy Garland said it a little different, "Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else."

Helen Keller was quoted as saying, "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." Mmm, nice. Would fit well on a pillow and speaks of fortuity and sagas! Alas, while there has been adventure in my life and some daring moments, but as far as living daring adventure, well, Ms. Keller, I am afraid in comparision there has been more nothing and I kind of like that.

Have you heard of Mary Anne Radmacher? A writer and teacher, even has a Wall on Facebook. She suggests, "Choose with no regret." Not for me, I would be paralyzed from making any choices at all if I believed that choices could not have the option of being wrong.

Yoda, "Do or do not, there is no try."
Yoda, sir, what about Publilius Syrus, when he said, "No one knows what he can do until he tries".

So many mottos, so many adages, so much wisdom, but I have weeded out the two that speak to me the most.

William Henry Channing composes philosophical music with his quote: "To live content with small means; to seek elegance rather than luxury, and refinement rather than fashion; to be worthy, not respectable, and wealthy, not, rich; to listen to stars and birds, babes and sages, with open heart; to study hard; to think quietly, act frankly, talk gently, await occasions, hurry never; in a word, to let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious, grow up through the common--this is my symphony."

Doesn't it just make your life come into focus, the living is in the details! I feel as if he looked into my head and my heart and wrote this for me. But, Frederick Douglas's quote fits better on a pillow and sings to me too!

"At a time like this, scorching irony, not convincing argument, is needed."

Trees, Creativity and Longevity

2011-04-19T12:40:00.000-07:00

Trees are the longest living of all of God's creations on this earth. What can they teach us?

Not only does the tree live by the adage "Do No Harm" but every moment of its being a tree is conducting life in a productive, nurturing and creative manner.

The tree takes carbon dioxide into its leaves and through photosynthesis produces oxygen which benefits us all, fresh air for all breathing creatures.

The roots of the tree disperse through the earth, aerating the soil, preventing the ground from compacting. Have you ever tried to dig a hole in compacted earth? Imagine a delicate seedling trying to break through, or a little earthworm bumping its little noggan on the hard mass of compacted earth.

The profusion of branches and leaves across the sky provides shade, a little haven of respite on a hot day. Those branches are also nooks and crannies for birds to nest, squirrels to hide their stash of winter stores.

When the leaves drop in the winter, they cover the ground, providing a blanket As the leaves decay the process warms the soil and protect the bulbs and corms and sleeping plants. Nitrogen is produced, to feed the roots and plants.

There is never a time, in its natural state, when a tree is not being creative. It is constantly growing, bud, leaves, branches expanding it's horizons. Even in the state of dormancy the tree is creating miles and miles of roots underground.

While a tree does not protect itself by attacking its enemies, it does not stand idly by and let it's enemies attack it. Tree's produce bark to protect it's tender wood from infestation, from scorching in the sun's heat and from exposure to the elements. Some trees create their own chemicals, oils or gas that thwarts intruders.

Is it any wonder the bible uses a "tree" to hold the forbidden fruit even though fruit grows on so many other plant types.

Is winter a tree's sabbath? Does it "keep holy the sabbath" by its resting? What does a tree "DO" in the resting?

Every part of the tree above the ground is idle, it grows no leaves, no branches during dormancy. But underground, ah, underground the root system is expanding, big roots, tiny capillary roots, all are growing, preparing the foundation for the next season's growth. Is there a message in the tree for us. Is our day of rest merely a day to attend religious services or a period for a tranquil, openness of soul? A day to while-away or the opportunity to really be in a state of attention, to listen, to prepare the foundation for...?

Creativity is vital to the longevity of the tree. I believe it is also vital to our health and longevity. As long as we continue to create, to learn, to teach, we maintain vitality. What do you do to maintain your vitality?

Jennifer Gilligan

2011-04-18T01:03:00.000-07:00

My best friend, Jennifer Gilligan. has passed.
A little over 38 years ago Jen and I met through our husbands, John and Jack.
As I remember it, I had just had my daughter Nicole. She was about 4 weeks old but I was deathly ill. Jack came by the house to see the new baby and introduce himself. He was waiting for John to come home and I couldn't lift my head off the pillow it was resting on. I was so ashamed but he made me feel so comfortable. He was really nice.

John came home, we all talked and made plans to have Jack bring his wife Jen and their 3 kids by. It might have been days or weeks before that happened but when they came by I met the best friend I would ever have. Jen was a woman who shines. She was the very definition of woman, friend, mother, wife. She truly lived for her kids. She lived for her husband and she lived for her friends.
We were sisters from different mothers. Jen was from New Jersey, recently moved to Palo Alto, California. She and Jack had 3 young children. Jenny, John and Michael. John and I had 3 young children, John, Adam and Nicole. Jenny was maybe a year or two older than their John and our John was a year younger than theirs. Thier Michael was maybe a year older than our Adam and then there was our Nicole. Jen was maybe one of the first "non-family" people to hold Nicole or to change her diaper. When Nicole was about 18 months old, Jen gave her her first haircut, a cute little shag cut. Nicole loved Jen. Adam and John loved "Miss Jen" too.
Our husbands both worked for Ma-Bell, the telephone company so they had lots to talk about. Jen and I both loved our husbands, more than life itself second only to our love for our babies and after a short time our love for each others babies.
Then we discovered a love for making our own music. We bought guitars. Jen bought a 12 string Ovation, I had a steel string Yamaha. We played and sang every chance.....Jen is dead!
Cancer. Cancer killed her and god-dammit, I miss her.
Jen, I miss you. I love you. I miss you. I love you.

What Do You Love?

2011-04-16T05:11:00.000-07:00

What do you really love?

Do you really love rainy days, droplets running down the window as the reflection of the candle flickers on the glass? The dark skies, the flashes of lightening and the crackle and rumble of thunder? Or, is rain just not your thing?

Do you love baths? Sinking into a deep tub of hot water, steam on the mirrors and some nice Michael-Bubble-ish music softly playing. Do you love your baths with rich oils or salts or do you love to surround yourself with masses and masses of bubbles? Or, does the thought of sitting in a tub of water mixed with your own dirt make you shiver with disgust?

What do you really love?

I love sipping tea in my favorite cup. It is big and handcrafted, with a good sized handle, not those little sissy handles you can only hold with your fingertips. The potter carved a whimsical character, part woman, part bird flying through the sky along side the stars, a carving I am sure makes the tea (or soup) so much more scrumptious.

I love drinking a full-bodied Merlot from a small hand-blown glass, a glass with bubbles still in the glass, tumbler style, no skinny uppity stem to hold the glass "the correct way." Just the little glass, a little not-perfect, not quite round, thick glass. Alongside my little tumbler of Merlot, I love thin slices of good parmesan cheese. Not thin enough to see through or fall apart when you lift the slice to your lips but thin enough to see the light of the salt lamps on the hearth. Of course, there will be a couple of pieces of sourdough garlic bread on the plate because that, I also love!

I love sitting in the living room and listening to the conversations of my grown children in the family room. I love the humor, the intelligence, the love...did I mention humor...of those wonderful beings. Was it really so long ago that they were just twinkles in their daddy's eyes?

I love driving. I love being behind the wheel of the car, mirrors custom set to me and what I want to see. I love the feel of that seat belt, snug but not too tight. I don't love cruise control, yuck! So passive, so disconnected from the road, the journey, the experience. I like my left leg bent so my left foot rests on the seat, my hands at 10:00 and 2:00, like my dad taught me, my left arm resting on my knee and the window sill.
Asphalt disappearing under me, the little mirages up ahead.

I love to read while my husband rests his head in my lap. I love to run my fingers through his hair and I love the smile on his sleeping face while I do so.

I love the smell of coffee beans, lavender, new pencils, lemons and oranges, dirt, first rain, sandlewood, patchouli and my husband after he's been working in the yard. I love trees, I love clouds, I love the feel of old, old shirts, old sheets and old jeans. I love sharp pencils, climbing trees, sitting on big rocks with my feet in the creek. I love children's hands and old hands, holding hands and giving a hand.

I love the dishwasher to be empty when I go to load it. I love to fold the towels fresh out of the dryer.
I love it when I find an old book at a used book store that has writing in the margins and underlined and highlighted sentences here and there.

I love over-sized sweaters and soft pajamas and I especially love that my pajamas are for lounging around in, not for sleeping (wink wink nudge nudge).

I love my little rice pillow that I warm up in the microwave before bed and keep at the foot of the bed to warm our toes while we sleep.

What do you love?

Top Three

2011-04-07T18:34:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Allison Writes, I learned a new game today. Top Three. Just listing your top three of anything. "Helps to pass the time when there is nothing else to say"....like that could ever happen to me!!!

My top three of life's goodies could change on an hourly basis and, to be honest, often do. My favorite food today, being that it is a cold afternoon, dark skies threatening still more rain, would be a thick beef stew with fresh bread.

Top Three Cold Rainy Day Meal:
Thick Beef Stew with Warm Home-Baked Wheat Bread
Warm Beef Barley Soup with grilled cheese sandwich
Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup

What will we really be eating? Little Ceasar's Drive-thru special large pepperoni pizza...too depressed to cook.....could we have a little sunshine here, dang-nab-it!!!

I have to admit, I've been sitting in the quiet of the house, no music, no tv, no sounds at all....hmmm, makes me wonder if its cold in here because I forgot to turn the furnace on this morning....I'll be right back.

Top Three Favorite Sounds: (on a day like today):
The low rumble of the gas furnace. It's on now, set it to 70.....shhh, don't tell Frank!
The plop, plop sound of a thick beef stew with plenty of potatoes, onions, carrots, cabbage and barley as it bubbles on the stove.
The soft tones of my CD, Jazz for A Rainy Afternoon

Top Three Favorite Rainy Day CD's:
Jazz for A Rainy Afternoon
Come Away With Me, Nora Jones
Wreck Of The Day, Anna Nalick

Top Three Favorite Rainy Afternoon Activities:
BED...all bed activities rolled up into one long fun afternoon.
Pajamas, book, fire in fireplace, candles....the scent of sandlewood and patcholi...or beef stew!
Glass of Merlot (Apothic Red, 2009), a big, soft Jake t-shirt (Life is Good), yoga pants, snuggly over-sized sweater and lap top....let the words flow.

Top Three Authors for a Rainy Afternoon Book:
Muriel Barbery, love her use of words, of course, I always keep a dictionary close at hand...
Robyn Carr, love her little community of Virgin River, I so want to live there..
Sara Gruen...horses, elephants, relationships...

Top Three Wishes for a Rainy Afternoon: (closely related to my favorite rainy afternoon activities)
Wish I'd shaved my legs this morning!
Wish my super soft lilac pajamas with the the tiny little daisies were clean.
Wish I had a bottle of Apothic Red Merlot (even 2008 would do).

Don't Stand Still

2011-03-02T12:57:00.000-08:00

My husband often warns people not to stand still too long at our house or his wife will paint them! I think I just might!

Last December I decided to paint a long dark hall in the house. I never knew what to do with the hall because it really is dark. If I hang photos or pictures on the walls they would only sit, lost and unseen and eventually gather dust. 'Nuff dust in this house, thank you.

While drawing the color pencil draft of the mural, my 7 year old granddaughter, Alaina, made the comment, "No, Nana, there are enough green trees in the world, that tree should be purple!"

Well, of course it needed to be purple, what was I thinking!

Snow...but what about the plums?

2011-03-02T00:01:00.000-08:00

I live in California. Northern California, just south of Lake Shasta. We had a faux spring this year in February and all my fruit trees sprang into bloom. Pinks and whites and pinker pinks! Plums (three different kinds), peaches, a couple of citrus trees and a pear tree that produces the best damn pears in the United States.

Only the pear tree was still sleeping. All the others were dressed for the ball, head to toe!

Then....the snow! The biggest storm in 8 years. Guess I'll be buying my fruit this summer!

Changing It Up

2011-02-19T11:27:00.000-08:00

I love my house, I really really do. The interior is full of color and murals and suns and moons and stars and trees.

There is my collections of rocks and crystals, native american art, peruvian weavings some not-native-american art, my books (oh the books!) and the knick-knacks collected over the years.

When I walk through the house it feels comfortable and homey but something is wrong. Well, not really wrong. off a bit, kind of stale. Every Thing has been in its place for so long that maybe it gets missed in the Seeing. Does that make any sense?

So, my plan for next week is to bring everything down, off the walls, off the shelves, off the floor!

Armed with dust clothes, nails and hammer, a storage box (or two) and a large Dutch Bros Kicker I am going to re-merchandise my whole house, 1970 square feet of refresh.

Who knows, maybe I will discover something I have been looking for and maybe I will discover some stuff I can do without...and that is a good thing.

Nurturing Creativity

2011-02-12T13:46:00.000-08:00

Many think that I am riding this lifetime suspended in a purple basket under a giant air balloon of changing colors and in bold, bright letters the word IMAGINATION is written across my balloon. They just might be right! Inspite of my horrible fear of heights I love my floating home. The world is a wonderful place and I have an awesome view.

My view is of magic, of fluctuation and in the changing tides of life.

I am accompanied on this voyage with some pretty remarkable beings not the least of whom are my grandchildren.

As many of you know I have spent hours and hours under our big blue blanket traveling and exploring the ocean depths, oh the magic we have seen! We have planted rocks to see if mountains will grow. Don't laugh, mountains grow very slow. Besides, the Rockies just might have been planted millions of years ago by a Nana and her little munchkins. We climb trees and walk the river trail. We observe the comings and goings of birds and bugs and the changing of seasons.

I have supervised many recipes being created in our game of Worm Soup. You never know what comes of mixing green grass and slightly wilted tulips with sunscreen, a pinch of furniture polish, a handful of wood chips, a cup of hand shredded gluten-free tortillas and a large pinch of imagination. The results are not just the worm soup in these adventures but the stories that are woven as mixtures are being concocted & stirred or the holes dug and soil tamped over seedling rocks.

We weave stories of discovery, we unlock doors into worlds yet to be explored. We often find ourselves in spaces that are dusty and long-forgotten, long ago abandoned when the lights of creativity and adventure were extinguished bit by bit.

Last week, as four of my granddaughters and I sat around the kitchen table doing homework we were faced with an incredible dilemma. Alaina (her mother says she is a 7 year old who is channeling a liberated Flapper woman of the 1930's era) was working on an assignment her teacher creates for the class that teaches grammar, editing and sentence structure. Typically we fly through the paper and get on to spelling and math. We launched and flew headlong into a concrete wall. It was a simple statement followed by the question, "Real or Not"?

The statement: "The garden had fairies in it." The garden had fairies in it, real or not? Real or Not? What kind of a question is that? How can we know? We don't even know who's garden it is, how could we know if there are fairies in it? Could the teacher, whom we really liked (up until now) think that Alaina or any other 7 year old could answer this question with the words "not real" and break the hearts of millions of fairies everywhere, let alone her heart or her Nana's heart?

A dilemma! How to answer? There are only two options given....Real or Not. Is this how it starts? Is this how our children are forced into that tight little box of our culture? With a simple statement and limited only to two choices. If she answers one way, (the way in which her soul just sings because it feels so right) it can be marked wrong and Alaina wouldn't get her little Plus-sign or Happy Face at the top of the page, and she does love her Happy Faces. Or she can answer the other way, the only other option and her spirit feels just a little pinch, the first of many to come if she lets herself be limited by another's belief in limitations.

I say, change the rules! Write a question back: Who's garden is this? Are you counting glass or stone fairies? Are you counting the fairies that come and go or the fairies that actually live there? Tell the teacher there is not enough information to adequately answer the question. Write "It is a Mystery" in the blank space and move on. Go out in Nana's front yard and ask the fairies that live at the base of the sycamore tree in the holly what they would say!

Do not let what others perceive as a world of limitations and lack get in the way of your creativity, your imagination or the abundance of the universe. Most important of all don't let the need for the approval of others make you hide your light and your spirit. Don't let someone else's happy face at the top of your paper become more important than dancing in the light of All There Is. Change the Rules!

Packing for 2011

2011-01-26T01:03:00.000-08:00

Are you packed for 2011?

Remember that what you decide to leave behind is just as important as what you choose to pack! Some of the items are the same as last year and some items are new.

Must Haves:

Integrity and Good Music, as always.

Imagination and Good Books, as well.
An Open Mind and a Soft Shoulder.

Creativity, Spirituality and Good Humor.

A Good Pen and Chewing Gum, Blank Paper and Colored Pencils.

Courage and a New Bathing Suit, Bird Seed and Bubbles.

Skate Key, Lightening Rod and Lip Gloss.

My crystal door knob in case some doors have no apparent means of entry...(always carry an extra door knob with you; they are much less cumbersom than windows).

Good Wine and Good Friends.

Soft, soft, soft sheets, a feather pillow and a promise to remember my dreams.

A warm, time-worn quilt, aged cheese and apples just in case a spot of Earth invites me to a little picnic.

Verboten Objects ~ What I am prepared to leave behind:

Maps unless it is a map I am drawing for myself.
Whining, on my part or anyone elses.....NO WHINING!

Bad Attitude, Brussel Sprouts, Judgemental People and unfair judgements on my part.
Grudges, Clothes that itch or bind, Excuses for not being Authentic.

I Promise To Be On The Lookout For:

Every Opportunity to tell my children and grandchildren and family and friends,
"I Love YOU" ~"You are Special" ~ "You are important to me"

Those moments to tell someone: "Good job" "I am proud of you" and sometimes giggle at myself and say..."man, that was stupid!"
I promise to leave enough room in my bags
...and to be of the lookout for
Miracles and Angels,
Sunrises and Sunsets,
New Friends and rare birds.

Good Books, Good Music, "Good Waves, Man"
Hugs, Kisses and Macaroons, Vintage Linens and Gin & Tonics on a hot afternoon
Crystals, Naps under the sky or completely naked under the covers in the middle of the day.
Opportunities for Growth, a chance to make my own path Out of the Box and Outside the Envelope.

What are you going to pack?

What are you going to leave behind?

What are you watching for?

Grieving

2010-12-06T12:44:00.000-08:00

This last year was the year from Hell, truly, yet, it was also a year of joy and blessings. I guess I could call 2010 the "Big Dipper Year" after the Roller coaster at the Santa Cruz Boardwalk.

This year one of my favorite aunt's passed, a dear brother-in-law died with absolutely no warning, a most loving and generous man, the step-father of my grandson passed away after a long hard battle with cancer and the role-model of all mothers, Mrs. Gardner passsed away. My dad had emergency 5-way bypass surgery and the hospital did everything it could to make his recovery impossible, he survived and is doing well. I lost my job ( kind of hated it anyway so that's not so bad except for the financial aspects).

On the high side, I rekindled relationships with long lost cousins. They didn't even know they were lost, they had just been lost to me. Wonderful, wonderful reunion and I swear with eveything in me, I will never let them go again.

Big Losses, Big Gains! Major Highs and Incredibly Low Lows. Times when I didn't think the second hand of the clock would ever move again to times when I couldn't pray hard enough to slow the hands of the clock down.

I'll never be able to hug Ken or Bob again, or give my Auntie Margaret a hug and tell her I love her. I had told Mrs. Gardner how I felt about her years ago but hadn't seen her since. I can't wait until I get to hug cousins, Randy or Karen or Brian again, to laugh with Zig or swear with Jackie or to just sit and talk with any of those wonderful cousins.

There is another loss though that is difficult to explain and hurts in the most extraordinary way. I've lost another friend, a friend that has been dear to me for years and years. I met him when I was maybe 12 or 13. We don't see each other much or talk very often but he calls me every year for my birthday and I call him every year for his. We sometimes talk in between times. When we do talk, though, we talk until one of our phones runs out of power yet still had more to say. Each conversation begins where the last one ended.

I love him and I know that he loves me. Not in that boy-girl way but in the glorious my-dearest-friend way. He's known me in all my phases and I've known him, we trust and love each other inspite of our short comings, which we are both very much aware of and couldn't care less!

He's kind of lost to me though. He has a new woman in his life for which I am very happy for him. We all need to have that "special" someone. The sad part of it though is that his special someone doesn't want him to have any "Pre-her" woman friends. Her jealously makes them both miserable.

I called him for his birthday this year (not knowing that Special Someone didn't want him talking to persons of the female side of humanity). He didn't answer his phone but called back a day or two later. He said he had to make it quick because Special Someone would be hurt and angry if we talked. We talked quickly, wished him happy birthday and hung up. A week or two later he called again. Special Someone was Christmas shopping and he had time to talk.

It was a yucky feeling. I don't want to talk if it is going to hurt someone or if it feels like sneaking, sneaking is for kids who want an extra cookie not for 59 year old women, unless its sneaking into the spa to get those brown aging spots removed!

I was wondering how my husband would feel if he thought I was "sneaking" in a conversation with someone or how I would feel if I found out he was doing the same. I don't want to be responsible to causing someone else pain either.

But, follow me here, who is causing her pain? Is she carrying some old shit, oops, excuse me, baggage from past relationships into her new relationship that is setting her up for PAIN? Why do I have to loose a good friend because she has is carrying around a pocket full of old stuff? When we begin a brand new relationship why do we wrap it with all the negative garbage from old relationships? Doesn't that dull the brilliance and glory of the new?

It makes me sad but makes me wonder what yuckiness (don't you love my vocabulary?), what yuckiness have I lugged over from old relationships and asked my wonderful husband to carry for me.

So, its not right, I am gonna miss my friend but I don't like sneaking in a phone call here and there or partaking in pulling the wool over someone's eyes (unless it is surprise birthday parties or Christmas gifts) so, no phone calls from this end. I'm going to miss you Mike.

Hope you and Special Someone resolve this because its way too sad to lose someone you love when they are still alive. Dead is too real and comes to soon to play games because some old crap is being lugged around in forgotten pockets.

A Little Challenge

2010-10-06T04:00:00.000-07:00

Fun thing some of the writers are doing on a couple of blogs I follow"

1. Depending on your age, go back 10, 15 or 20 years
2. Tell us how many years back you have traveled and why
3. Pretend you have met yourself during that era, and tell us where you are
4. You only have one “date” with this former self
5. Answer these questions
Okay, as we start, what year is it and how old are you?

Would your younger self (YYS) recognize you when you first meet?

Would YYS be surprised to discover what you are doing for work?

What piece of fashion advice would you give YYS?

What do you think YYS is most going to want to know?

How would you answer YYS’s question?

What is something that you probably wouldn’t tell YYS?

What do you think will most surprise YYS about you?

At this point in your life, would YYS like to run into “you” from the future?
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I chose to return to just before I left my parents home. Right after graduation there were so many questions. Who was I? What was I going to do with my life? Where was I going to do it?

Okay, as we start, what year is it and how old are you?

It is 1968 and I am 17 years old....damn, I'm so young!

Would your younger self (YYS) recognize you when you first meet?

I think MYS would recognize me, maybe more intuitively than from sight.

Would YYS be surprised to discover what you are doing for work?

MYS would not be surprised that I spend a large portion of my time with my granddaughters because since I can remember I wanted to be a mommy and a nana just naturally follows. She would wonder what happened to her dream of being a doctor and would be surprised to find out that even though most of my career was in health care it was on the administrative, public relations and marketing side, not hands-on care.

What piece of fashion advice would you give YYS?

First of all, I've just come back from 42 years in the future...if the first advice MYS asks me is fashion advice I would shoot her! My young me and my older me have never really been into fashion, give either one of us a pair of levi's and a sweatshirt or something bohemian (which to me means bra and panties are optional) and we would/will be happy.

But I offer this advice, high heels are over-rated, especially the 3" and 4".
What do you think YYS is most going to want to know?

MYS might ask me if we had children and were they healthy.
MYS might ask if John and I are going to get married and live happily ever after.

How would you answer YYS’s question?

I would definitely tell her that she will have 3 glorious children and they will grow up to be very loving wonderful adults.

I would tell her to ride bikes more often with her kids when they are little, get to Whiskeytown Lake more often with her kids even in winter, have more waterfights, snowball fights and stay away from bubblegum flavored Vodka and to invest in Microsoft. I would also tell her that she will end up raising half the boys in the neighborhood (happily) so she should probably buy a bigger house out of the gate.

I would tell her that, yes, John and I will live happily ever after. But I wouldn't tell her, he with someone else and me with someone else. Our love will produce those beautiful children and some wonderful memories. Relish in the love while it is there and remember it sweetly when it is just a memory.

What is something that you probably wouldn’t tell YYS?

I wouldn't tell her about deaths and endings. It is hard enough on the heart and soul without knowing the "when" of those times.

What do you think will most surprise YYS about you?

MYS would be most shocked that I survived to be older than her grandma Rose, had lots of anxiety wondering if I would. She would wonder why I still live in California and why I live "in town" because I/We are not city-girls. She would wonder where my garden is, why there is dust on my guitar and why my dad's truck is parked in my driveway!!!

At this point in your life, would YYS like to run into “you” from the future?

After the way I've let her body go to hell she would probably like to run into me-from-the-future with a Mac Truck!
I would like to meet my-future-self. Though I don't know that I would be brave enough to ask about any of the kids or mom or dad. I'd ask her if I wrote the books, did they get published? Was I strong when I needed to be and was I tender when tenderness was necessary? I ask her to tell me if I ever hurt someone and what I could do not to hurt them.

If I could tell MYS anything I would tell her that she will know wonderful love, incredible peace, never-ending gratitude. In all the ups and downs of life the ups will far outweigh the downs,the happy tears will out-number sorrowful tears.

...and the angels thwacked her on the head....

2010-09-30T11:31:00.000-07:00

I am an artist with dust on my brushes, I am a writer with thousands of words still in my head, I am not living up to my full potential.
Just updated my blog and a little blurp at the bottom of the page said:
"You are using 11MB of your allotted 1028"!

Damn! The angels sure have a way of getting their message across!

A Walk On The River Trail

2010-09-30T03:47:00.000-07:00

Who has stood here before me?

What were they thinking?

Where were they going?

Were they Wandering and Wondering?

Open Book

2010-09-29T12:26:00.001-07:00

Do you ever find your self distracted by a simple phrase or maybe even just a word or two while reading? You find that you have read two pages without being cognizant because your mind wandered off with thoughts inspired by the words.

I must confess, for someone who meditates and preaches the practice of "awareness" my mind is predictably unpredictable! (Makes sense to me, so deal with it!)

This morning one of the characters in the book I am reading used the phrase "open book". Without benefit of a count down my mind blasted off to the ethers.

"Open Book." What is an open book? Who is an Open Book? My mother insists that my brother, sister and I are open books and she isn't smiling when she says it!

I don't agree with her a hundred percent. I would suggest that if the three of us could be referred to as books, we would be books resting gently at eye level; not on a high precipice nor buried deep in a cabinet, but books easily within reach. If you open it and read a little, or as you pick up one of the little volumes and it falls open to any page that inspires a question, we are pretty forthcoming with an answer. Not because we are anxious to share all the bits and pieces but that, to us, the bits and pieces are just that....bits and pieces. Individual bits and pieces do not define us. Though there are people who have let this 'bit" or that "piece" from their past or maybe their family's history define who they are or who they have become.

What if you are an "open book"? Should one be more protective of those moments of thier lives when maybe they made mistakes or got too close to the edge? What's the use of those experiences if they can't be used to teach or inform? Should one feel guilty because they don't guard the story more tightly?

What about those who not only don't open the book but keep the tome shut and locked away in a cellar of personal memory, locked up tight? Warning: don't even think about asking!

A dear friend, a long time ago, had a pat answer for any questions that he thought were inappropriate.

"Why do you want to know?" he would ask the curious.

Whatever their response was, he always answered, "Well, that's not reason enough!"

He wasn't really a private person, he just didn't want to feed morbid curiousity. (Was he thinking, "Inquiring minds should get a life!") I have actually been known to use the same trick but not to keep things private but just to see if I could actually get away with it!

What we share and don't share of our own lives and thoughts and actions should be a personal choicem shouldn't it? If I choose to be an open book one week and keep the book closed the next, isn't it my decision?

Someone else may choose to put a lock and key on the book and stand beside it with a loaded gun in case you get too close. My advice to you would be that if you see someone standing next to a dusty book with a cocked pistol in hand you should keep your questions simple; "Would you like tea or coffee, how about a little sugar?"

What about those of us who have the book open to just one page. That page and no other. What has become of the story before that page and what of the story since that page? Another man I knew a long time ago who was an awesome, winning high school quarterback let that short page in his book define his story forevermore. He believed he never was that great since then, he never saw the love and admiration in his children's eyes nor that of his wife because he only heard the echo of days gone by and believed himself to be a has-been, sadly living in the shadow of yesterday's glory. What of those who choose only to dart in and out of the darkness of yesterday's tragedy or trespass. Afraid to love, afraid to live, afraid to turn the page and read how life did, truly, go on.

What is the state of your book? Is it open, can you turn your pages freely and read what was and look forward to what is coming? If you are protective of it has the "protecting" of it become more important than the "living" of it? Can you honor the choices of others to keep their books in whatever state they have choose?

In my humble opinion, it is a choice we all make. Free will, after all, was God's idea. It is not for me to insist we all open those books, or share just this page or that or slam them shut. It is, though, again I say humbly, that we should be aware of the choice we made and own it, be conscious of it.

Is your book open? Did you decide to stick with one page? Is it under lock and key? Are you the author or are you letting someone else write your book?

Partisan Politics

2010-09-27T17:54:00.001-07:00

par·ti·san

1.noun; an adherent or supporter of a person, group, party, or cause, esp. a person who shows a biased, emotional allegiance.

2.

Military . a member of a party of light or irregular troops engaged in harassing an enemy, esp. a member of a guerrilla band engaged in fighting or sabotage against an occupying army.

If our congress was actually a marriage between two people, say the wife is (flip a coin: Heads) the Democrat and the husband is Republican (sorry, tails) in America today I would have to venture a guess that our divorce rate would be about 98%.

You see, there would be no listening with the goal of trying to learn or understand. If any listening was happening at all it would be with the intention of trying to find something to trip the other up with. Instead of rings our marriage ceremonies would consist of exchanging sticks to draw lines in the dirt....."Cross this line, Sucka!"

The first marriage was just such a marriage, Lilith and Adam, both wanted to be on top. Winning and being on top was most important, no one cared to listen and learn to compromise. Democrats and Republicans...oops, my mistake....Democrats vs Republicans.....what a circus. Do any of the politicians today really care about helping the American people, do they care about making this a country where we can honor our roots and our future? Is biased, emotional allegiance a solid foundation for good listening skills? If we are engaged in harassing or consumed with fighting or sabotaging instead of trying to understand and cooperate what is our future?

Will every president spend the first four years in office trying not to offend too many people so that there is a second term in the future at the detriment of the American citizen...which, by the way, includes our the future of our babies and children.

When will partisanship be left at the door and genuine-ship, caring-ship, honor-ship come to the forefront of American politics?

My Tree Is Full Of Apples

2010-09-14T12:55:00.001-07:00

Scrolling down through Facebook this morning, who's doing what, who's harvesting cranberries and who's giving away shovels. My eyes locked onto the post from Linda, "My tree is full of apples." She is actually inviting any takers to come pick fresh apples but in my idealistic mind it was the same as "my cup is half full."

Now it is my long standing philosophy that my cup runneth over but there are times when that personal philosophy is blurred just the littlest bit in the fog of daily living. I always know in my heart that the belief is there but it can be reduced to a mere shadow when the mind starts its anxiety-ridden fretting about things and stuffs of maybe's and maybe not's.

Whenever we drop our awareness and the total commitment to being present in our life we can become entangled in ghostly what if's. Those "what ifs" are a blight on our apple trees, drying up the lovely red fruit as it clings to the tree, fighting to not be dropped prematurely. Can you imagine what would happen if a tree, filled with the promise of spring blossoms started to fret about the possibility of an early frost? Would it accept the tickle of the bees buzzing from blossom to blossom? Would the tree, so focused on the possibility of some future "maybe" be unable to dedicate its energy to producing even the scrawniest of fruit let alone a big crisp fruit worthy of polishing and giving to a favorite teacher?

Can one's glass be half full if the glass becomes obsessed with the possibility of the liquid being consumed? Could the anxiety of glass produce enough heat to vaporize its contents?

Tell me, do you sometimes let your mind take over your heart, your tomorrow consume your today? Does your stress vaporize your contents? Does your fruit dry up on the stem? It happens to me sometimes, but, luckily I read simple statements that remind me just how wonderful and blessed my life has been and is. My cup runneth over and my tree is full of apples.

What Did You Pack For 2010?

2010-01-06T14:36:00.000-08:00

Are you packed for 2010?

Its very important what you decide to bring with you and what you commit to leaving behind.

Here is my list of must haves:
Integrity and Good Music.

Imagination and Good Books

Open Mind and Soft Shoulder

Creativity and Spirituality

Courage and a New Bathing Suit

A Good Pen and Chewing Gum

An extra door knob in case some doors appear closed with no apparent means of entry...(always carry an extra door knob with you; they are much less cumbersom than windows)

Good Wine and Good Friends

Verboten Objects ~ What I am prepared to leave behind:

Maps, Whining, Bad Attitude, Brussel Sprouts, Judgemental People and unfair judgements on my part

I promise to Be On The Lookout For:

Every Opportunity to tell loved ones:

"I Love YOU" ~"You are Special" ~ "You are important to me"

Those moments to tell someone:
"Good job" "I am proud of you" and sometimes giggle and say..."man, that was stupid!"

Opportunities for hugs and kisses and a mug of Dutch Bros. coffee.

...and to be of the lookout for

Miracles, Angels, Sunrises, Sunsets,

Good Books, Good Music, "Good Waves, Man"

Hugs, Kisses and Macaroons,

Vintage Linens and Gin & Tonics on a hot afternoon

Crystals, Naps and Opportunities for Growth

What are you going to packi?
What are you going to leave behind?
What are you watching for?

Competitive? Not me!

2009-12-07T18:41:00.000-08:00

If you had asked me how I felt about competition a week or two ago I would have shared my life-long philosophy with you. I do not believe in Competition. I believe in Cooperation. I have always believed that we would dwell in a much more peaceful, gentle world if we were united in cooperative living. I have always believed that and I looked down my nose on the competitive spirit....

Then came Bejewelled Blitz on Facebook......OMG was I delusional!

I have just discovered something really, really, really, really ugly about myself...I want to win....I need to win...I live to win.

It was a cold and windy night...hmmm...actually it probably started on a way-too-hot day in summer. I saw that my dear friend, Valerie, played this little game on Facebook with all these cute, bright jewels, sparkly explosions and cool sound effects....I thought, "why not!"

Why Not? Why not? When you ask yourself "why not?" there is a good reason "why not"! Probably several good reasons "why not".

The ugliness starts off real slow. It sneaks up on you so subtly that you have no idea what is happening. Razzles and dazzles! Little emeralds popping! Yellow diamonds exploding! The points start to add up....ta deep voice in the game itself says, "excellent"! 12,000! 24,000! 63,750! Hmmm. This is fun.

Yum, flash: I just beat Valerie's high score...what was that? A little kajizzle up my spine. Nice!

Log in the next day: Valerie has beat my score. No problem. One day, two days, third day, 112,300...new top score....I'm on top again. Nice, real nice...can feel that kajizzle up my spine...."this is a cool game," I think to myself.

Next day, log on to Facebook...."what the?" New friend Cheryl has topped both Valerie's and my score...."hmmm, easy fix" I think as I smile to myself....and I fix it....well, of course I do!

(WARNING: Please do not read on if you have a weak stomach....it gets really ugly from here)

We juggle top-dog place for a week, maybe two....the kajizzles aren't as intense as the first time...I need more....

...THEN....5:15 AM...can't sleep....what if someone has "somehow" beaten my score.....better get up and protect it! Explosions, sparkles, "exellent".....ooohhhh....bright colors, jewels...points.....Points.....POINTS....POINTS......MORE POINTS....GIVE ME......

Yes, 288,550 points....."EXCELLENT!"

Oh the kudos, Amanda likes my score (yes, even sweet Amanda is hooked)....Heidi likes my score.....Valerie asks "How did you do that?" Oh, sweet Kajizzles, not only up my spine but up my neck and spreading out over my scalp, down my arms and even down to my toes. Oh Kajizzles....I love you......

WHAT? Cheryl tops my score again....and again....WTF? A new friend.....Ann (you know who you are)...ANN tops the highest score..311,050...I think to myself, "how important is this friendship....I can delete her and get back on top....but what if she requests my friendship again.....I know, I could block her!"

Friday morning I set the alarm....the early bird gets the worm you know!

I must get back on top....I need to get back on top...... I WANT IT! GET OUT OF MY WAY!

Can't do it.....124,00.....134,000......187,00....."NO, I don't want any lunch, I am busy".....188,000....189,000......."yeah, yeah, I'll go to bed when I am done here"....202,540.....3:45 AM Saturday morning...need sleep but Ann is still way up there, Cheryl, close behind.....I am not even in the ball park.....Sunday.....my arm hurts....I think I have Bejeweeled-Blitz-Carpal-Tunnel.....my shoulder hurts.....I don't care....Someone is higher than me.....Please, don't make it so...clicking the mouse...click, click, double click, explosions, jewels, bright ugly colors, ugly little numbers....where are the big numbers....."NO, I don't want any dinner...get off my ass"......click- click...more ugly explosions, cheap little jewels...must sleep...can't sleep....must sleep.

What! Heidi can't sleep and she is gonna try and beat my score while I sleep!.....not gonna sleep.....can't lose my footing.....I need more.....GIVE ME MORE.

Monday Morning....6:30 AM......Facebook.....gotta check....did Heidi bury me in the ugly little squares and circles pretending to be jewels? Did she dump me in the tank of tacky fake explosions......can't breathe.....No....I am safe at 200,000+ but Cheryl....OMG...Cheryl.....the Bejewelled Blitz Terrorist has buried Ann.....319,050.....HELP ME.....I NEED AN INTERVENTION!

Please....please....anyone?

2009-12-06T11:49:00.000-08:00

A beach.

A beach and a blanket.

A beach and a blanket
with a soft warm breeze.

A beach and a blanket
with a soft warm breeze
and gentle lapping waves.

A beach and a blanket
with a soft warm breeze

and gentle lapping waves and peanut butter sandwiches with grape jelly.

A beach and a blanket
with a soft warm breeze
and gentle lapping waves
and peanut butter sandwiches with grape jelly
and You.

A beach and a blanket
with a soft warm breeze
and gentle lapping waves
and peanut butter sandwiches with grape jelly
and You. Nice!

Worm Soup!

2009-12-05T22:25:00.000-08:00

On those days, when its way too cold to go outside....or way to hot....and we have danced and tea-partied and Phineas-and-Ferb-ed 'til we can't anymore my granddaughters and I like to make worm soup.

Well, actually, they like to make worm soup and I like to shake my head! We get out a couple of bowls, the bigger the better; measuring spoons, measuring cups, some smaller bowls and big (BIG) spoons to stir with. Often the ingredients to our soup is completely imaginary....you know, a bit of lizard lips, bat spit and maybe octopus beaks.

Friday was not one of the imagination days...Alaina was definitely into "the real stuff". So we started with a base of water and milk...lumps okay. Rock salt, dog food, wood shavings, brown sugar rocks....whatever she could find. The soup was a wonderful shade of turquoise which she blames on the milk and several drops of food coloring...5 blue drops, 3 drops of yellow and one drop of red.

Her sister came home from school, rolled up her sleeves and proceeded to not be outdone!

Her concoction was slightly slimier due to the large amounts of last summers sun block (which should never be applied to the skin due to Vit D deficiencies and clogging of pores). I digress.

Jocilyn's soup included crushed peppers, coffee creamer, flour, egg shells and maybe even the egg....could that egg have added to the slime-factor?

Wonderful mess! Warning: the food coloring should be avoided if small child in your care is about to leave with parents for a trip to Santa Cruz.

Yes, Thanksgiving....there was much of that!

2009-12-05T21:51:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving....yes, there was lots of thanksgiving. Gratitude that we have all survived a year of extreme ups and downs.

My 6 year old granddaughter was hospitalized, my 18 year old grandson rolled his little Subaru and walked away from the accident....God bless Subarus. His step-dad has battled cancer and has had two major surgeries in the past 6 months. Lots of challenges but here we are; a family filled with love and blessings.

This year, thanks to my brother Mike, we have reconnected with family...lots of cousins! We are planning a big reunion next summer of first cousins and our families....but some of us couldn't wait so Mike, my sister Sherree and I gathered at her house with our cousin Brian and his wonderful wife. We hadn't seen him for close to 40 years.....did I say 40? My goodness!

We had such a good time! He really rocks, he has grown into a wonderful, intelligent, talented and involved man. His wife is fantastic, too and we had such a fun weekend reaquainting ourselves. We told stories about when we were little kids, shared some memories of our grandparents and and Aunt and Uncle that have passed.

Front row: Sherree, Brian, Mike
Back Row: Me (Toni), Wendy and Connie (Mike's wife).

We had fun and I honestly can't wait until this summer when all the cousins get together!

Woman to Woman. Let's Talk!

2009-03-01T17:56:00.000-08:00

Are you content with the condition of the world? Does it bother you that children go to school in the morning and are shot at by their school mates? Do you wonder what has caused so many teenage suicides? Why are schools promoting birth control and abortions without advising parents or obtaining parental consent?

Our children are confused. We preach one thing and than do another. We give birth to our children and hand them over to a daycare organization or a television to raise them.

Does it make sense that we tell our daughters to say no to sex yet they are bombarded on with daily messages that they will not be "cool" or "liked" if they don't dress, act, talk and look sexy. Does it make sense to our daughters and sons that we say we are so offended with the certain images of women and girls in advertisements, tv and movies but we continue to purchase and consume the very products whose advertisements offend us?

Are you comfortable with the fact that almost every mother and father (especially fathers) on television are portrayed to be bumbling idiots. Dad can't plug in the toaster without blowing up the house and Mom is an emasculating Robo-Woman.

Every day another politician is being outed for sordid extra-marital affairs, cheating on taxes or stealing government funds to pay for great vacations in exotic places. Our children see us gripe and complain about these dishonest public servants but do they witness taking action?

"Apathy is not the most dramatic form of suicide, just the most common." William J. O'Malley

What are we going to do to make this a better world for our children and grandchildren? Henri Amiel wrote, "Woman is the salvation or the destruction of the family, she carries it's destiny in the folds of her mantle." In my opinion, Mr. Amiel is right.

Men tend to define themselves according to how autonomous they are. Women always wonder why they won't "commit" and I am sure it is because to "commit" is to lose one's separateness and therefore, one's identity. Women, on the other hand, define ourselves by our relationships. Unconsciously we believe, "I have a relationship therefore I am!" How many women stay in terrible relationships because unconsciously we believe that if we don't have even a lousy relationship we might cease to exist.

Now, one might think that this is a weakness but it is, in my humble opinion, one of our greatest strengths. It is because of the way we define ourselves that we are the caretakers of the earth. We are connected, we feel compassion, we nurture! We know in our hearts and souls that if any thing is wrong with one baby, one family or even one lake or river, that something is wrong with us all.

We just need to teach our daughters that the first relationship they have is with God, Goddess, All There Is, The Great Spirit, the Higher Power. The next relationship is with their self. Next, the relationship they have with Mom and Dad will accompany them for the rest of their lives so show them how important they are, how much they are loved and respected. Honor your daughters. If they never witness respect and honor they will never recognize it or the lack of it.

Look at how connected we are! We menstruate on the same cycle as the moon and tides, and in the days before artificial light and synthetic birth control, we cycled with the other women in our huts and caves. We invented villages, agriculture, math! We are good!

Somewhere, sometime, somehow we lost our footing. We need to regain it. I'm not suggesting that we grab the reins from men and take control but I am suggesting that we put the focus back on our children, our elderly, our families, our communities. We turned our backs on the living and breathing and have surrendered to the inanimate, the governments, the corporations, the organizations. When did we decide that it is more important to "give" our children stuff than to share ourselves with them?

Within...or.....In My.....

2009-01-16T11:57:00.000-08:00

I've been tagged......what is cyber tag anyway? Steven tagged me and says I have to answer the following questions....like I do things I "have to!"

5 things in my fridge:

unopened egg nog, a hostess gift from Christmas....think its still good?
celery
carrots
lettuce....just in case we get an unexpected visit from a rabbit!
white wine....again for unexpected guests, I prefer red.

5 things in my closet:

journals
a 3' tall doll with orange hair that I had when I was a little girl!
two large boxes of Mitch's writings
dresses...in many different sizes and eras!
scarves and hats and gloves....for those winters when California pretends to be Montana for a day or two.
dust bunnies....wonder if they like lettuce....

5 things in my work supply bag....?
Okay, hard one here....do you mean my teaching bag or my Mary Kay bags?
Can't mean a typical gym bag as the really most extreme sport I participate in is my morning showers and luckily no bags are necessary!

Mary Kay bag:
15 Look catalogs
15 "Invite" booklets
Business cards
Samples
Records & scheduling book

5 things in my car:

Rob Thomas cd, love Street Corner Symphony.
Wayne Dyer collection of cd's...can't learn too much about creating my reality!
Mary Kay bag
Travelers bag with sketch pad, pencils, pens, journal and water bottle.
quilt....never know when the need for a nap or picnic will hit and I believe in being prepared!

Okay, Steve says I have to tag 5 other people and I say, "Steve, You are not the boss of me!"

Words

2008-12-21T00:38:00.000-08:00

Words. I love them. I love where they come from, what they mean, how they sound. I especially love words that dance on the tongue. I love juicy words!

Roots! Now that is a good word. From Old English, from Old Norse, the root of root is wryt...yummy huh! Root is a noun and a verb, trees and teeth have roots, families have roots, pigs root, people root around and I bet you didn't know that the lowest tone of a chord (as C in a C minor chord) when the tones are arranged in ascending thirds is a root.

How about "Phosphatidylcholine"? Don't you just love how it plays in your mouth and gets your tongue all juiced up? I don't know why there are no children's poem or riddles with phosphatidylcholine in them. It is every bit as fun to say as Mary, Mary, quite contrary and much more interesting than a Snuffleupagus.

What about Snickerdoodle? It doesn't tickle my toes like Abaculus but it is a jolly word. Abaculus, now that word should never be spelled out in whole letters but should be written with dots, small broken pieces of letters, grout is optional.

Hamulus rhymes with abaculas but sounds better in pig latin: amulushay, but the Hook is when would you use both words in a poem?

Relinquish...anouther good sound but not an action that most of us choose freely, unless its to relinquish a hated chore or paying the bills, I would gladly relinquish my daily dose of phosphatidlycholine and finishing the abaculus with the hamulus but I absolutely will not relinquish my snickerdoodle.

Another word, a word that opens the door..and several windows...on many more juicier words and concepts is epistemology! Can you just feel the goose bumps building up your back?

Epistemology! What makes justified beliefs justified? (here come some excellent words folks....hold on). Deontological justification! Contextualist! Tripartite!

Is it possible that there is deontological justification for daily doses of phosphatidlycholine? Would that constitute deontic logic...well, maybe non-deontic logic, which is much more fun to say anyway!

A word that confuses me is tree! A very inappropriate word for such beautiful beings. The word tree is so tiny and all above the line, no g's or j's, no p's or y's! No roots or wyrt's, and the tallest letter is a t, what about the l's and f's. Tree will just not do....let us make up a new one. Not a word for boot tree or saddle tree or family tree (whew, talk about roots). Well, I'm up a tree on this one...any ideas?

Do I have a favorite word you might ask? Do you have a favorite word? A word you use in everyday conversation? What about "contemporary" or "random" or "serendipitous"? Consequently! Pursuant....eww, thats a little precocious!

Pray tell....share with us your favorite word and why!

Memories of Past Christmases

2008-12-07T22:50:00.000-08:00

I just came back from the annual Christmas party of my husband's store. As we all sat around we shared our memories of our best or most memorable Christmas.

So many good stories and even some sad ones, all very memorable. All very touching.

My memories of Christmas as a child, my most significant memories blend together.

It's difficult for me to remember if this incident was the same year as that occurence.

I remember lots of cousins, lots of aunts and uncles, singing, dancing. I remember the Christmas tree at my grandma's and grandpa's house that went all the way up the stair way.

I always wanted a two-story house with a wrap around stairway so that I could have a big giant tree like the ones I remember there....though the other 50 weeks of the year climbing stairs has absolutely no appeal to me.....absolutely none.

There was always lots of love, people laughing, kids running around and around. I remember and still do the wonderful feeling of belonging....belonging to something significant and something bigger that me....I was a part of the whole.

Fog

2008-12-06T12:44:00.001-08:00

My dear friend has been so sad of late. She sits in the corner at the office and stares into nothingness. When I ask what is wrong she just moves her head, slowly, from side to side. My heart tells me that her gesture is not telling me that nothing is wrong but she is telling me she just doesn't know.

Then I ask, "Is there anything I can do to help?" and she tells me she wants to lay down and never get up.

I wrap my arms around her and hold her until the next patient walks through the doors.

We go through the day, answering phones, taking blood pressures, guiding this person or that into a room. Two and three days pass and still my friend is only physically in the space, her spirit and soul have journied off....somewhere....but not here, not in this office, not with these patients and files and chores. She remains as passive and spiritless as a human can be.

She calls in the prescriptions to the pharmacists and even some of them, pausing in the routine of it, ask her what is wrong....but they can't see her head move from side to side...and she lets them return to their tasks.

One bleak morning, the fog is thick, the corners dark. Everytime the door opens the chill creeps in; grabs us. We tell our Family Nurse Practitioner that it is a full morning. Lots of patients coming in, lots! We ask her to "kind-of" expedite her visits with her patients. Oh, when will we learn?

it is 10:30, the waiting room is standing room only, and over-flow has gone into the second waiting room at the back of the clinic. Our FNP is only on her 2nd patient. the patients are starting to grumble and the coughing and sneezing is in need of an orchestra conducter with his wand to try to make some sense and order of it.

My friend jumps off her stool! Jumps! She has hardly moved in days but today she jumps. She grumbles! Grumbles! Grumbles about time and taking too long and wraps her knuckles on the door of room 2! "Time!" she calls through the door.

She briskly walks back to my office.

Suddenly, electrically, a switch from far inside her flips and with a wonderful glow in her eyes, a genuine look of surprise on her face she shouts, "I'm back!, I'm back! I don't know where I went but I'm back!"

We both laughed and danced and rejoiced!

I am secretly relieved that, as in the movies, I never had to slap her!

A Must

2008-11-14T08:03:00.000-08:00

While Wandering and Wondering, I wandered onto another world. It truly is in the universe of Imaginarium. It's name is hydrogenballoonclown and it is truly worth the price of a ticket....oh....wait....Admission Is Free.

Ladies and Gentlemen, please place your seats in an upright position and fasten your belts.

Was that the Holy Spirit?

2008-11-08T08:50:00.000-08:00

Something has changed in our world, it has slowly been gestating for the past 21 months. Consciously, I am ashamed to confess, I was unaware of what was happening, and, quite frankly, I am not just a little sad that I was so blind. Looking back I can recall little telltale hints and conspicuous prognostications of what was slowly growing and developing.

If I was truly aware, I would have been able to sense the beginning beats of her heart the first flutters of movement.

Though labor was extremely rough and perhaps long as we all waited through the day, some pacing, some praying and others dancing in anticipation. Millions of people were glued to televisions, radios, internet connections and each other. Many just as equally unaware of what was happening as we all awaited the outcome of the elections in the United States of America.

Tuesday evening, November 4, 2008, she was born. Many missed the moment of her first breath but the tears of her first cry were seen and felt around the world, but especially in the states. Some people were overwhelmed by the defeat of losing a long battle and in their sadness missed those precious minutes. Her birth was a monumentous moment in the history of the U.S.A. and, becuase of the the whoeness and energy of planet Earth.

Now, many missed her gestation period and even her birth, but even the blind could not miss her presence on Wednesday and Thursday and Friday. I'm not sure that she has been named yet, I'm not sure she can be named, for what name could be be worthy of her. You can see evidence of her in the softened faces of people of color. You can see her in the rounded threshholds where hard angry edges once existed.

She inspires hopes, dreams, and promises.

Obama promised change. Who knows what his challenges and successes will be or if he will be able to change anything as far as economics, education or wars are concerned but I know, in my heart of hearts that when he walked on that stage to accept his victory in the presidential election that something changed.

I witnessed it on the faces of every black man and woman in the audience and every day since then. It was a moment that we truly became brothers and sisters. My whole life I was raised by my parents to know that we were all brothers and sisters, equal, in the eyes of God, in the eyes of the law. November 4, 2008, my black brothers and sisters finally received the message.

Samhain, Halloween, All Hallow's Eve,

2008-10-31T13:03:00.001-07:00

Don't you just love this time of year?

Crisp air...long nights.....curling up on the couch with an old soft quilt and a good book.....sipping hot tea on the patio while the wind blows leaves all around you...

...ladling a big bowl of hot homemade soup and fresh bread any time of night or day because it's been simmering on the stove or woodstove all weekend.....knitted over-sized sweaters and long skirts with cozy thermals underneath.....I Love These Days.

I can't wait for the little kiddoes to knock at my door tonight....I like to listen to their conversation as they come up the driveway, talking about the jack-0-lanterns and the leaves crunching beneath their shoes.

I love that the veil is thin and I am closer than ever to those ancestors who glazed the trail before me. I love the long, long nights....three big heavy quilts on the bed....pumpkin pies and zucchini bread....Yup, this is a good time of year....one of the best.

...and there was joy

2008-10-20T10:12:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure how to start this blog...seems it might appear to some to be heretic mumbo jumbo but might ring true with others. It actually feels pretty right on with me and despite my creative, juicy, somewhat mystical way of thinking I am really a very logical person.

I believe that we have a divine heritage that we so often refuse to acknowledge. In the first book of the Bible, Genesis, we are introduced to the Spirit of God. We are told how the Spirit of God manifests so many wonderful new things, the universe, raging ocean waters, day and night, plants, grain fruit. God first thinks it, then it is, and then God has Joy in it. Now logically speaking what do we know about God and the Spirit of God?

1. The Spirit of God thinks it..(..what an imagination, if I do say so myself).

2. That which God has thought is manifested.

3. God had Joy in it!

Then God said, "Let us make man in our image!"...

Hmmm, I went for the grade instead of pass/fail in my college Logics class and I got an A, with very little kissing up so I feel pretty solid in stating that this logicaly makes me believe that our divine heritage, granted to us by God is that we can think it, co-create it ("let us") and that we should have JOY in it.

Now I don't take this lightly, despite my attempt at humor. There is great responsibility in this divine inheritance. There is the responsility of thinking good positve stuff. How many times have you been so afraid, investing your emotion and imagination in something terrible only to later say, "Oh man, that's just what I was afraid of!" Then there is that "Joy" thing, which to me means that whatever I create must not be at the expense of anyone for how can you have Joy in something if it is not good for all.

Then Jesus came and he said, You are my brothers and sisters and that which I can do you can do and more.

Now, what do we do with this incredible gift?

Filling the Well and Stocking the Pond

2008-10-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

2009 is on it's way.

Have you packed for it?

These are my ideas on what to pack:

Integrity and Good Music.

Imagination and Good Books

Open Mind and Soft Shoulder

Creativity and Spirituality

Courage and a New Bathing Suit

Crystals, a Good Pen and Chewing Gum

Door knobs (in case some doors appear closed with no apparent means of entry...always carry an extra door knob with you)

Good Wine and Good Friends

Verboten Objects ~ What to leave behind:

Maps, Whining, Bad Attitude, Brussel Sprouts, Judgemental People and unfair judgements on my part

Be On The Lookout For:

Opportunity to tell loved one:

"I Love YOU"

"You are Special"

"You are important to me"

Miracles, Angels, Sunrises, Sunsets,

Good Books, Good Music, "Good Waves, Man"

Hugs, Kisses and Macaroons,

Vintage Linens and Gin & Tonics on a hot afternoon

Crystals, Naps and Opportunities for Growth

What are you packing, what are you leaving behind and what are you going to be watching for?

Soundtrack To My Life

2008-10-20T09:32:00.000-07:00

Now we can call this blog Soundtrack to my life or we can call it putting off until later what I should have accomplished this morning.....Your call

Opening Credits:
Poems, Prayers and Promises ~ John Denver

Waking Up Scene:
Its a Beautiful Morning ~ The Rascals

Car Driving Scene:
I Can't Drive 55 ~ Sammy Hagar

High School Flashback Scene:
Hooked On a Feeling ~ BJ Thomas seguey into California Dreamin' ~Mamas and Papas

Nostalgic Scene:
Time In A Bottle ~ Jim Croce

Bitter, Angry Scene:
Draw The Line ~ Aerosmith

Break-up Scene:
Hit The Road Jack ~ Ray Charles

Regret Scene:
Let It Be ~ John Denver

Nightclub/Bar Scene:
Boogie Woogie ~ Tommy Dorsey

Fight/Action Scene: Can also be used for running into the grocery store to get those special items when I haven't put make-up on or I'm wearing my sweats without bra and undies!
Mission Impossible.....helloooo!

Saturday Morning/Cleaning the House Scene:
James Taylor's Greatest Hits or Anna Nalick depends on the degree of the mess!

Lawn Mowing Scene:
Sweet Home Alabama - Lynrd Skynrd

Sad, breakdown scene:
Forever Love (Digame) ~ Anna Nalick

Death Scene:
Mil Besos ~ Patty Griffin

Funeral Scene:
Poems, Prayers and Promises and Country Roads ~ John Denver

Mellow/Pot-smoking Scene:
Summer Breeze ~ Seals & Croft

Dreaming About Someone Scene:
Dreamin' of You ~ Selena

Sex Scene:
Has been censored from the movie version but as the scene fades away Lionel Richie starts to sing Brick House!!!!!

Contemplation Scene:
Unwritten ~ Natasha Bedingfield

Chase Scene:
The Merry Minuet ~ Kingston Trio

Happy Love Scene:
Theme from Tootsie It Might Be You ~ Stephen Bishop

Happy Friend Scene:
Boney Fingers by me with my kids singing along

Closing Credits:
Brown Eyed Girl ~ Van Morrison

Magical Places

2008-10-05T10:14:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been merrily going about your life and suddenly realized that you have happened into a magical place? Did you shiver with the beginnings of goose-bumps? Or maybe while walking down the sidewalk or having lunch with friends you look up and there, across the way, is a magical person cleverly disguised as a normal citizen?

I'm thinking I am one of the lucky people because I have found myself in magical places quite often and have met (or just spied) some pretty magical people.

I grew up in Colorado ~ a wonderland in itself so you know that the individual magical spots are extremely enchanted. There was a gully behind our house on Meade Street that captivated the young mind, turned us into pirates and explorers, King's of Mountains one-and-all.

Then there was the old swing on my grandparent's front porch. Now that portico and it's enchanted swing held magical moments for several generations! A place of first kisses and good-bye kisses, fortune tellings and joke tellings, maybe a proposal or two and talking cats. The posts of the porch helped launch one young woman (who shall remain anonymous) on many adventures as it was the most covert access to the ground and therefore, the world, from her bedroom window.

When I was a little girl I would sit on that swing between my Aunt Janice and my loving Uncle Bill. We were only blocks from the Denver Zoo, so as we rocked back and forth on the old swing in the warm dark evenings of summer we could hear the growls of the lions and tigers, the ruckus of monkies and the odd calls of the peacocks. My aunt and uncle would talk to each other about the "escaped-man-eating tiger" or a gorilla who jumped bail! All to make me shiver and scoot up closer to Uncle Bill, for surely he would scoop me up and carry me into Grandma's house if a tiger jumped out of the bushes...or at least I could scurry into the house while the tiger devoured poor my poor uncle.

Our whole family once went to Mother Cabrini Shrine in the mountains, again while I was very young. Now that place is Goose-Bump-City! Even as a little girl I knew that I was smack-dab in the middle of something magic. Even the adults were different, found out much later that the adults were in a state which we call "reverence" and if you knew my family...well, reverence is a state we don't often visit!

If you've never been to Colorado in the autumn then you have truly missed a magical time. The Rocky Mountains are pretty magical any time but when whole ranges turn to shades of gold and red and orange....and you are a young girl running through the trees with your brother and sister and cousins....well, the term magical falls short, it is purely numinous.

Henry Cowell Redwoods...
...maybe not as famous as the grand Redwood forests of Northern California but oh so mystical and enchanted. The Elementals are everywhere and if you are young and haven't learned yet that you can't see them because they "don't exist" then you are never alone. This magical land in the middle of the San Francisco Bay Area is one of the last bastions for Brownies and Fairies and Gnomes. Don't get caught feeding them your pancakes in the morning...adults get aggitated to see a half eaten pancake scampering off into the undergrowth

About 10 years ago my daughter and I were driving across the states in a big yellow rented truck with her dog and her cat. She was leaving New York City and moving back to California. We hired a couple of hunky guys from Brooklyn to load the truck and then we took off, drove to Maine to find a rocky seashore, didn't find it (but that is another blog) and then cut across New Hamshire and Vermont and headed home. Now you know we saw many places. It was really quite the journey. We saw and heard and tasted and felt many many magical things but the most magical of all....truly the most magical of all was a rest stop in Nebraska!.....I swear on a stack of bibles and Betty-Crocker Cookbooks....it was a magical place of incredible dimensions.

It was just twilight, a pretty enchanted time anyway. We stopped and let Chief, her dog, walk around a little....Nikka, her cat would not come out from under the front seat since the mishap at a toll road a couple of states earlier( again...another blog/another time). It was just a rest stop. Bathrooms, water fountain, grassy area and trees. Anyone passing it on the highway might not take a second glance but the minute we stopped and got out we were both in awe. Something very special was happening here....we looked at each other and felt those goose-bumps tickling our necks and arms and running up and down our backs.

Without discussion we laid down in the grass and watched the trees gently swaying in the wind. Who knew a little rest stop in the middle of Nebraska.....hell, who knew anything in the middle of Nebraska could be magical. Who knew how long we laid there in the soft green grass...it could have been a lifetime...or just moments.

So, the point of my story today? Be Aware! Magic is everywhere. Know that there are lands of enchantment all around you. Let the magic fill your soul and take you to your own Never-Ever Lands. You don't always have to head for the North Star and turn left to get there.

Unsheathing your sword

2008-10-02T11:18:00.000-07:00

Paulo Coelho writes,
"Every time a sword is taken from its sheath, it must be used. It may serve to open up a path, help someone, or brush aside danger - but a sword is capricious and does not like having its blade exposed for no reason.

This is why a warrior never makes threats. He may attack, defend himself, or retreat; each of these positions is part of the combat.

I check in with Paulo Coelho's blog pretty regularly and have never failed to gain some insight from his thoughts and ideas. If you are unfamiliar with him, he is the author of The Alchemist, as well as several other wonderful books. This morning's quote from him has touched my soul.

"Every time a sword is taken from it's sheath, it must be used. It may serve to open up a path, help someone, or brush aside danger-but a sword is capricious and does not like having its blade exposed for no reason."

I believe that our words are as swords. When we pull that blade from the sheath of our minds it must be used, as Paulo states, "to open up a path, to help someone or to brush aside danger." The edges of our words are razor sharp and can cut mortal wounds, Just as miraculously, with a regal tap on the subject's shoulders, words can bestow knighthood.

Choose wisely what your blade will be known for, for above all, it will be remembered that it was, indeed, your blade.

If You Ever Find Yourself In A Fairy Tale

2008-09-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

Instructions

by Neil Gaiman

Touch the wooden gate in the wall you never

saw before.

Say "please" before you open the latch,

go through,

walk down the path.

A red metal imp hangs from the green-painted

front door,

as a knocker,

do not touch it; it will bite your fingers.

Walk through the house. Take nothing. Eat

nothing.

However, if any creature tells you that it hungers,

feed it.

If it tells you that it is dirty,

clean it.

If it cries to you that it hurts,

if you can,

ease its pain.

From the back garden you will be able to see the

wild wood.

The deep well you walk past leads to Winter's

realm;

there is another land at the bottom of it.

If you turn around here,

you can walk back, safely;

you will lose no face. I will think no less of you.

Once through the garden you will be in the

wood.

The trees are old. Eyes peer from the under-

growth.

Beneath a twisted oak sits an old woman. She

may ask for something;

give it to her. She

will point the way to the castle.

Inside it are three princesses.

Do not trust the youngest. Walk on.

In the clearing beyond the castle the twelve

months sit about a fire,

warming their feet, exchanging tales.

They may do favors for you, if you are polite.

You may pick strawberries in December's frost.

Trust the wolves, but do not tell them where

you are going.

The river can be crossed by the ferry. The ferry-

man will take you.

(The answer to his question is this:

If he hands the oar to his passenger, he will be free to

leave the boat.

Only tell him this from a safe distance.)

If an eagle gives you a feather, keep it safe.

Remember: that giants sleep too soundly; that

witches are often betrayed by their appetites;

dragons have one soft spot, somewhere, always;

hearts can be well-hidden,

and you betray them with your tongue.

Do not be jealous of your sister.

Know that diamonds and roses

are as uncomfortable when they tumble from

one's lips as toads and frogs:

colder, too, and sharper, and they cut.

Remember your name.

Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found.

Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped

to help you in their turn.

Trust dreams.

Trust your heart, and trust your story.

When you come back, return the way you came.

Favors will be returned, debts will be repaid.

Do not forget your manners.

Do not look back.

Ride the wise eagle (you shall not fall).

Ride the silver fish (you will not drown).

Ride the grey wolf (hold tightly to his fur).

There is a worm at the heart of the tower; that is

why it will not stand.

When you reach the little house, the place your

journey started,

you will recognize it, although it will seem

much smaller than you remember.

Walk up the path, and through the garden gate

you never saw before but once.

And then go home. Or make a home.

And rest.

Dark Moonies

2008-09-29T11:20:00.000-07:00

Last week as I was riding into work there was a segment on the radio advertising a Cancer Support group. One of the women being interviewed had been a member of the support group for 4 years and cancer-free all of those 4 years.

She made a comment that as ugly and painful and intrusive as cancer can be that part of it is minimal compared to the lesson of love and acceptance that she experienced. She confessed that without being debilitated by cancer, which lowered her resistance, she would never have been in a place where she could have accepted the gestures of love and caring not just offered by friends but thrust on her by genuinely loving friends....."I'm coming over right now and washing your hair for you!"

I could hear the emotions rising in her, I could hear her throat tightening as she fought back tears.

Arriving at work, I unlocked the doors and prepared the offices for the day's work. I am an office manager at a health care clinic. As I checked patients in and out throughout the day the radio-woman's statement was always in my awareness. I noticed how some of our really ill patients were driven, driven, driven people. Their need to get some antibiotices in them and get their busy-selves back to the action was their utmost goal:

"Take a day off and rest? How can I?"
"but if I'm not there the world will forget to revovle?"
"Nothing will get done if I am not there!"

Now I am sure that if this blog was a mirror you could see your reflection and just as many of you are denying the reflection.

When we stop taking care of ourselves, when we detach ourselves from the rest of humanity...except that it is our responsibility to take care of humanity because, "heaven forbid, others should take care of themselves" our bodies yell..."STOP".

If we don't listen to the little tickle in our throats or the fact that our shoulders have migrated to a tight little condo about an inch below our ears than what choice does the body have but to kick our feet out from under us?

As I contemplate that minute or two of the radio broadcast my mind keeps asking the question, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could learn the lesson of accepting love and compassion and support without getting cancer?"

Is there a way to open our hearts to being loved without first having to be a victim of something? If allowing others to love us and help us when we are on our knees or flat on our back can make such an impact can you imagine how empowering it could be to accept those wonderful acts of genuine caring while we are strong and on our feet!

Last winter my friend Ingrid and I gathered our wits, our memories, our wisdom and our talents, our wishes and desires and dreams....spread them out across the dining room table and gave birth to the Pomegranate Project, Women Empowering Women Around The World. Our dream, to help women develop their own talents and skills, to educate them about the real history of women, to help women network and share their knowledge and experiences with each other.

An off-shoot of the Pomegranate Project was a class, Wandering By The Dark Of The Moon ~ A Daring Adventure Into The Enigma Called Woman. We begin the class in February of 2008. Many women showed up to the first class, some come whenever they can, one or two we never saw again, but those that commited to the class and have been there every dark moon and every full moon have grown in ways I cannot even dare to describe.

I've seen some eyes hooded and dulled by life's experiences sparkle again, I've seen postures change..."was she really that tall last year?" Some of the women have reached major professional goals, major changes in life long relationships, recommitting to making the personal changes to make those relationships thrive.

We have become friends and sisters. We support each other, nurture each other, kick each other's tushies if necessary (lovingly, of course). We have really grown together, we have learned to love each other, not just as individuals but as women, strong, gentle, nurturing, brave, empowered. We have learned to respect each other, and best of all, we didn't need to get cancer to do it.

Maybe the cure for cancer and all those other invasive ugly dis-eases is opening ourselves up to the inherent love in the universe!

Ingrid, Jane, Lyn, Roxie, Roxy, Yolan, Marcy, Cindy, Liz, Peg, Akaysha, Marie, Leslee, and all you other "Dark Moonies" I love you!

what a world

2008-09-19T16:54:00.000-07:00

Today and for the past couple of weeks my emotions are overwhelmed. I feel like the witch in the Wizard of Oz must have felt when the house from No-Where fell on her, or how her sister felt when Dorothy threw the water on her and she melted away crying, "What a world....what a world..."

What a world. My heart aches for our world and for the children in this world. We see the shooting and bombing on the news and the internet. We hear that this country or that dictator in lands far away are doing horrendous things. We ask ourselves why the Russians are attacking Georgia; why do we have to send our young men and women to Afghanistan to kill or be killed, when will the the war in Irag be over....didn't we "WIN" that war years ago? Why can't the Muslims get along with the Jews or the Christians....Why is there so much terrorism in all "those other lands so far away"? Thank God we live in America....oh wait...America.

America. Isn't that the place where the nation is divided in half, Democrats and Republicans, conservative and liberals. Isn't that the place where for the past 18 months the nations next leaders and their cronies have been pointing their fingers, and calling each other names, speading lies and half truths, ridiculing each other and spreading hate, hate, hate?

How can I vote this year? Who could I vote for? How can I honor the winner in this nasty game as my leader when I know 3 year olds who are more well-behaved and respectful? What hope is there for the world when America, the land of the free, can't play well with each other?

Where are we that we can't see what a wonderful and exciting time this could have been that the playing field was leveled this year! Shouldn't we be celebrating that this new century brought out young and old, black and white, men and women? Shouldn't we be thinking that we are in a world of hurt and asking, "how can we come together, to work as a team, to cooperate and raise the bar?" Instead we are blaming each other "...he did it...nah-uh, he did it first....well he made me...."

I want a president that I can respect, I want a president that honors the people he leads and the people she needs to work with. I want a president who can stand up in front of the people and tell me the truth. I live in America and I am tired of the crap and the hate and the sensationalism.

I want to be told what you are going to do and try to do and how you are going to try to do it. Stop digging bigger holes, and for goodness sake, stop telling the world how stupid we are and what crooks the other team is....the other team might be the winner and then what!

If America is still the Go-to nation, the role model of how life should be, then, by all means, "stop the world, I want to get off."

Manual For Climbing A Mountain

2008-09-09T06:39:00.000-07:00

Paulo Coelho....don't you just love him!

In this little masterpeice he writes, "Respect your soul, don't keep repeating, "I'm going to make it. Your soul already knows that, what it needs is to use the long journey to grow, stretch along the horizon, and touch the sky!" ( I am not sure if the quote is completely accurate but you get the idea)

If you concentrate so tightly on making it you end up at the summit the very same person who started the climb......

How many times I have done this exact thing. I have been so intent on climbing the mountain.....whatever the mountain is at the time.....that I forget to look out at the view, to smell the pine and listen to the wind....feel the rock in my shoe and take the time to remove it....the journey has become lost for the sake of the summit. Then I am there, right at the top....planting that little Toni-flag in the peak and wondering what's missing.....

Have you ever committed that sin against your soul? Forsaken the journey for the destination? Can the goal ever be as sweet as it can be if you have missed the details of the climb?

...and just because the mountain is there do you have to take a linear, do-or-die path straight up to the summit or is it equally respectful to your soul to wander around the mountain, climb a tree or two, make a new path, introduce yourself to the flora and fauna and ask how their day has been?

Who knows, once you've talked to an first-growth Sequoia, a granite boulder that was traveling since the ice age and a lizard or two, maybe the summit is not as tempting and your soul just wants to walk down to the river and swim.

aahhh.......satyagraha

2008-09-07T23:13:00.000-07:00

What is satyagraha? It is a philosophy from India which means to do anything, give anything, sacrifice anything, to pursue what is right without harming another and to do this without regard for self.

Do you have the strength of character for satyagraha? I often wonder that about myself. I definitely have my values and principles and my list of things that start with,
"Well, I would never......."

But, would I? Do I?

I am a woman who has lived a blessed and gifted life. Many of the things I say I would never do, I say them because I have never been challenged by those circumstances. When you look at challenges from a distance they always seem to be constructed of black and white blocks but the closer you get to those challenges the blacks and whites fade to shades of grey.

Ghandi, a man who really introduced Satyagraha to the world at-large, a proponent of "passive resistance" and non-violence and was actually awarded a Nobel Peace prize was a great poser and coward it seems to me. He talked big in the world of men and politics but beat the women in his life. How does one live with those conflicts?

In the light of day with the world watching he taught one thing but behind closed doors he was a different person....

I pray for the strength of authentic satyagraha and that Father/Mother/God never test me.

Maybe its just me....

2008-08-27T11:37:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm already in a mood and my attitude is kind of stinky but did anyone notice the ad banner at the top of your myspace this morning about "Relief for tired parents"? A sleeping drug for children?

I don't get it. When my children were little and they couldn't sleep I held them on my lap and rocked them, or rubbed their backs and sang to them. When my grandchildren can't sleep I hold them and rock them or I go to bed with them and rub their backs and sing a little song. Yeah, I get tired and yeah, I want to go to sleep because I have work in the morning or whatever but god damn it...

Okay, going to take some deep breaths and try to calm down.....Dear Father/Mother/God keep the idiots out of my way today.

Ranting

2008-08-27T08:33:00.000-07:00

Wednesday's are pretty mellow days around here, for the most part, especially since I only work Monday thru Thursday. Wednesday can be kind of a over-the-hump slide day. There are times when I can actually just coast through the day, we could see a couple of patients and get some side projects done.....a day for just cruising. BUT this morning I am in little bit of a state.No, I think this is a full-blown tiz.

Last night in the Democratic convention apparently Hillary Clinton gave a great speech which had the potential for rallying democrats and making it them one. This morning on the Today Show there were several reports regarding the potency of her speech, some comments about what was missing in her speech and then, apparently most important of all and just in case anyone started to believe in her personal power as a woman, there was a segment about her suit and her choices of what she could have chosen to appear and and why she chose what she did.....EXCUSE ME....where the hell does that factor in the program.

Did I turn off the boob-tube too early and miss the part where the fashion experts discussed the choices Dr. David Gipp, a member of the Standing Rock Hunkpapa Lakota (Sioux) Tribe from Fort Yates, North Dakota,President of the United Tribes Technical College could have chosen native american garb or a custom made suit or an off-the-rack suit from Penny's.

Robin Golden the man from Wyoming, whose job is going to be shipped overseas; did anyone discuss why he chose to wear a suit rather than cowboy boots, cowboy hat and levi's and a pearly buttoned cowboy shirt, after all, Wyoming.....hello!

Tomorrow morning will there be any discussion regarding tonights speakers, Bill Clinton, John Kerry, Bill Richardson?

Who cares, who really cares what any of them wear? Why do we insist on reducing women's contribution to the fluff and appearance? I'm telling you, if I wore panties, they would certainly be in a twist....hhmmm, I wonder if I was being interviewed by the glorious reporters at the Today Show if they would want to know WHY my panties are bunched or just what color they are and if I am insured against the Victoria Secret metal tag's potential for blinding me.

Be Brave...A Challenge

2008-08-12T15:40:00.000-07:00

In a blog by Jessie, inspired by Eleanor Roosevelt's words, "Do one thing every day that scares you" Jessie challenges herself and her readers to BE BRAVE and set some challenges up for ourselves.

Maybe not everyday, but setting up your own guidelines, maybe once a week, maybe once a month.

So, I am ready. I am challenging myself to do one thing each week that scares me but I am not defining "scare" as screaming until my eye balls burst. I'm am thinking I will promise myself to take one step closer every week to opening the Imaginarium Emporium (which excites and scares me) and to physically do one thing each week that pushes my personal envelope.

Of course, being the compulsive consumer that I am, I will have to go out today and purchase a Be Brave journal and special Be Brave pen for my special Be Brave musings.

A couple of weeks ago I went to see a building for lease, a perfect Imaginarium-type structure. Spanish tile roof, a tower, a library and classroom, several little cottages in the back to rent out for art or writers' studios. Big Trees, perfect numbers, on Trinity Street, huge magical trees and about a thousand big giant spiders. Everything I want....except the spiders!

Turns out, it was only the upper floor that was available.....well, that's okay because I still need inventory and a business plan and a couple of interested artists and writers to rent the studios.

So, what is the first thing to do that scares me? I am going to drive to Olive Street and check out a house that is for sale that is close to the main drive. I think I will also call Raymond, a friend of a friend and see if he wants to have coffee and talk about creating an artists' onclave.

Anyone interested in purchasing the French Gulch Hotel and manifesting an awesome creative center?

Human Beings

2008-08-12T10:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was wandering and wondering. I love to wander and wonder and wonder and wander.

I am reading several books right now, one of which is The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-than-Human World by David Abrams. I am thinking the following idea may be from Abrams wonderful little book.

He presents the idea that each of us is a "Human Being", not a Human Was or a Human Gonna Be. Don't you love that? An easy way to remind oneself to be in the moment, I am a Human being, I am a Human walking, I am a Human talking....hey, I am a Human wandering and wondering.....a human....being....

Yeah, I like that.

Quilts & Friends

2008-07-20T19:43:00.000-07:00

Quilts and Friends, they really are very much alike. The longer they are around the more comfortable they are, we love them even if they have a little worn spot or get kinda lumpy!
When you're sad or miserable it is fun to wrap them around you and feel safe, if you laugh so hard you blow wine out your nose they really don't mind....too much!
Though sometimes I will leave a quilt in the trunk of my car after a picnic at the park or a day at the beach and I would never do that to a friend....well....maybe Mike....

What is your nature?

2008-07-05T13:56:00.001-07:00

Two monks were washing their bowls in the river when they noticed a scorpion that was drowning.

One monk immediatelyscooped it up and set it upon the bank. In the process he was stung.

He went back to washing his bowl and again the scorpion fell in.

The monk saved the scorpion and was again stung.

The other monk asked him, "Friend, why do you continue to save the scorpion when you know its nature is to sting?"

"Because," the monk replied, "to save it is my nature."

Strange 4th

2008-07-05T12:42:00.001-07:00

My family usually celebrates Independence Day with a rowdy day of bbq and swimming, little kids splashing and dancing, adults laughing and joking and playing games. The anticipation of fireworks fueling the fun.

About 9:30 in the evening we all gather our chairs and blankets and walk over to the park to ooh and aah at the explosion of color and sound of the fireworks.

No fireworks this year and the absence of the "expectation" was worse than the actual absence of the show itself!

We have been surrounded with over 800 fires. Though yesterday was the first day we actually saw a little bit of blue sky for the first time in weeks, the air has been so thick with smoke that you could very definitely imagine cutting it.

Some days the visability was so bad that I couldn't see the house across the street. Several times I thought about swabbing the inside of my nose just to see if the swab would come out black but I was too freaked out to find out that it might!

At our clinic we have had families of firefighters calling us for prescriptions for the treatment of poison oak because the firefighters themselves haven't been able to leave the fire lines for days on end. There have also been lots of respiratory complaints and one of our older patients had taken 4 nitros in one day because it hurt so much to breathe. Of course, she also worked in her garden all day inspite of air quality alerts....but at 91 I guess you do what you want!

There were so many fires at one time, and maybe even now, that only the fires that were threatening structures could be fought, just not enough man-power to fight them all.

Living in Northern California these past couple of weeks has really felt as if I was a citizen of a science fiction movie, living on a strange planet, with a red sun and a brown moon. The sun has been so incredibly red at times that it took every bit of will-power in me not to just stop and stare at the ghostly glow of it.

Air quality warnings have been issued and we have been advised to stay inside. Makes me wonder what the consequences of this fire could be. During the huge blackout on the east coast in 1965 there was a marked rise in the number of births 9 months later.

Can we expect that in California? Will the birthrate drastically rise in March of 2009?

Will the rising price of marijuana rival the increase of gas prices since much of the land burning is prime location for illegal marijuana plantations?

Will there be a marked increase of lung cancer, asthma and other upper respiratory ailments in the years to come?

Will the California Supreme Court reconsider next time it wants to overrule a decision that the population of California voted against (twice) again without considering the Karma of it?

Imagine a world.....

2008-07-05T10:59:00.000-07:00

In today's hectic world too many of us forget the important things in life.

We often live our lives for the things we will have tomorrow and we forget about living today. We forget to nurture our spirits and those of our loved ones and neighbors. We forget to breathe in life, to relish the precious moments.

Much, much too often we forget to smile and tell those closest to us... "I Love You!" Every day we must love, cherish and protect our children, not just the children that call us Mom or Dad but all the children of our world. We must provide them a world of peace. They should be safe. They should never know hunger. Most of all they should know they are loved and they are special.

Imagine a world with no hunger, a world with no war, a peaceful world where each child sleeps snug and warm and wakes each morning with zest and enthusiasm for the new day, a world where parents rest at night knowing their children are safe and they will be able to provide for their needs in their growth and well-being.

Our thoughts and beliefs help us create our reality. When we fight war we make more war, when we imagine peace and act peacefully that will be our reality. Every time we make a statement or think a thought that is positive and beautiful we make this world a better place.

I've said it before and I will say it many more times but I am sure there will come a time when our great-great grandchildren will be reading in their history books how primitive man once believed that the world was flat and that conflicts could be resolved with violence.

Those wonderful children will shake their heads at such archaic and ignorant philosophies. I also think they will be reading how the women, sisters, mothers and grandmothers gathered together and changed the world one heart at a time.

The Best Workshop I Ever Attended

2008-06-29T08:29:00.000-07:00

So its 10:15 AM on Saturday morning and I am rocking out to Kool & The Gang. Danced to "Celebration about 12 times, "Ladies Night" about 8 times and was just about to go to Jungle Boogie...."get down on it"......when the phone rang.

"HellooooooOOOoooo", I answered, rockin' out to the tunes.

"Hi Toni, its Ingrid"

"Ingrid, que pasa!"

"We're waiting for you, its 10:15"

"Oh shit" (yes, I do say "oh shit" on occassion, get over it), "its the 31st!"

Brushed my teeth, combed my hair, got dressed ( only because Ingrid had not said anything about clothing being optional for the class I had signed up for 5 weeks ago).

Off I go, no make-up (doesn't help that much anyway), no shower (sucks to be the other people in the class) and no breakfast (who knew that my tummy would be the most intrusive participant in the class)!

What a class! It was awesome. It is called "Raking Leaves In The Wind". From 10:30 to 5:00 it was the best mental health day I have ever had.....well, except for that day on the top of .....oh, never mind....anyway, it was good, damn good.

Part of the class is to dig deep and find 5 characters who live inside you and are part of you. They represent the subtle and not so subtle aspects of your personality. We name them one by one and fully describe and flesh-out of each of them.

So I dug down....didn't really have to dig too deep because the characters inside me were fighting for recognition and pushing and shoving to get to the front of the line.

I would like to introduce them to you, the Council of Toni:

Friends and Aquaintances, Ladies and Gentlemen, please meet, Sinthia, the spanish senorita of ill repute; Carly, the Hungry Artist; NanaMara; the cuddly nurturing grandmother, BabaMara, NanaMara's twin sister who is magical, mystical and wise and, of course, Bill!

Sinthya
Sinthya (accent on the sin) is a 57 year old spanish senorita of ill repute, her breasts are firm and her nails are painted! "Sin" (that is what her friends call her) is all about the sensuous. She loves hot baths with lots of bubbles, oils and candles and an open bottle of Amaretto and a hand-blown liquer glass on the tub's edge.

She loves to dance, but none of that soft-shoe wishy-washy stuff....Sinthya does the flamenco. Stomping of feet and tossing of head, flipping of skirt....aaahhh, check out those legs and that red slip.....oh mama!

She is tall and slithery (is that a word?). She only wears matching bras and panties and can create quite a disturbance if NanaMara wants to slip into those cotton grandma panties that can tuck into the 18-hour bra....if she remembers to wear it.

There was a 6th personality, Susie-Homemaker, who was brutally murdered by Sinthya after organizing the council's underwear drawer by color and suggesting that we could save money by foregoing the ultra-soft quilted toilet paper and purchasing bulk TP at Costco.

Sinthya loves the scent, taste and texture of all things including food, sex and drink. Whatever she does, it is all about the sensuosness and richness of it. She loves bed but rises early every morning to drink her tea or coffee outside, while the morning somist rises from the lawn and pool, just so she can return to bed, fluff the pillow, tuck the sheets around her and drift off into the land of Mornings Dreams, ah delicioso!

Bill

Bill is 39, lanky, loves hats of all kinds, though he can usually be seen neatly tucked under an Indiana Jones' fedora. He typically wears worn levis, a white t-shirt with a Marlboro hard pack rolled up in his left sleeve. He doesn't actually smoke Marlboros though, the box has loose tabacco and papers in it and he rolls his own. Bill loves a cold beer on a hot afternoon, preferably a Del Pacifico or Ice House brew.

He has three, count them, 1..2..3..addictions. Watching People, Watching Movies and Reading Books. He spends the rest of his time quoting the said people, movies and books.

Often when Carly (the Artist) gathers all the cleaning supplies and prepares to give the house a thorough going over (hell, someone's gotta do it since Susie-Homemakers early demise) she gathers said supplies and rags and sponges, goes to one end of the house and Bill announces in a clear masterful voice...."Gentlemen, start your engines."

When the sound of an engine is heard in the driveway and the Council (the group of characters) check out the window and see that the Mother of Toni has come to visit, Bill trades in his levis for a tuxedo and in his very best Michael Buffer voice announces..."Lllllleeeeeettttttssssss Rumble!"

Anytime people are starting to get aggitated with each other, Bill whispers that great quote from Monty Pythons Holy Grail, "People, lets not bicker about who killed who!"

Bill's repertoire is constantly growing and he is always....always whispering some appropriately irreverant statement and making me smile at the most inappropriate times.

Carly. The Artist

The Artist....We call her Carly at the moment, but she changes her name like she changes her underwear, well, actually she often forgets to wear underwear but it is purely unintentional. She puts the undies on the bed but by the time she has showered she has forgotten that she put them out (and is running a little late anyway) so doesn't wear them ~ kind of by default.

She is often distracted by beautiful sunsets, incredibly blue water, clouds that resemble angels and turtles and castles and yes, just clouds, really big clouds.

Carly is actually distracted by most things....she even keeps a little paper taped to the phone at work so that when she answers it, she can look down and see where she is just, in case she forgets!

She and Bill have a love hate relationship. Carly will often start to tell a story....oh she does love a good story...and after several minutes of meandering around the story she will often stop herself and mutter, "..well, to make a long story short...." in which Bill always responds with, "Too Late!"

Carly loves art, she loves to create, to paint, to draw, to write. She often is not as productive as she would like to be because she is kind of the runt of the Toni-Council. When we have certain tasks and responsibilities that we don't really want to do or feel said tasks are menial and undeserving of our status, Carly is the one who gives up her time to clean up after us.

("Would you like some cheese and crackers with that whine?" asks Bill somewhat lovingly....

"Shut up you, asshole!"

"No, you shut up!"

"No, you shut up!"

"Kids! Don't make me turn you into frogs again!" Oh, I have so much to tell you about BabaMara, the mystical, magical old woman of the council?)

Well, as usual, the spotlight is off of Anna....oops, did I forget to tell you that Carly has changed her name...she is really into sculpture at the moment, especially the work of Anna Vaughn Hyatt Huntington and would like to be called Anna...

("I know you can get the job, but can you do the job"

"Shut up, Bill!"

"No, you shut up!"

"Kids!")

So, anyway, Car......Anna loves to create, but she doesn't have a lot of time for it, she is much too busy taking care of....."

"Carly-Anne, stop making excuses....just get out there and create or I will turn you into a frog!"

Oh....just a little footnote, the Crew wanted to listen to The Fray but Carly-Anne had suggested we kick back and listen to the Sound track of Pajama Game but the crew suggested that maybe Carly-Anne could just go in the kitchen and bake up some brownies while we rock-out.....and she did!

Then there were the twins, NanaMara and BabaMara who have kind of morphed into one conjoined body and they are uncannily ambidextrous and coordinated in both their arms and legs and not just a little bit magical and mystical. BabaMara, being the most magical has decided that we should call them BabaMara and NanaMara, being loving and nurturing and supportive has no problem with that.

As I dug around in the depths of us, looking for different aspects of my personality I discovered Ms. Richardson. I hadn't noticed her before because while the other aspects were jumping up and down demanding attention, Ms. Richardson was hard at work.

Ms. Richardson is quite intelligent, her IQ tests have never fallen below 136 and often top 140. She is also very creative, much like Carly, uh, Anna, Carly-Anne ("with a hyphen" as Carly-Anne has been heard to state). but unlike Carly-Anne, Ms. Richardson gets down to work.

Ms. Richardson designs web sites and brochures, she is an event planner and great marketing specialist.

Ms. Richardson is very mature, she is a self-starter; very capable. She wears fashionable yet comfortable shoes but dresses much more professionally than the rest of the council. She is often down-right upset with us because we might grab a burger on the rush and drop mustard on one of her really nice blouses or sweaters. (though Carly-Anne is quite capable at getting the stains out).

Ms. Richardson loves her books, always non-fiction, she loves the etymology of words, debating politics and creating marketing plans and writing grants. Research is her love and forte.

We think Ms. Richardson is english and that her first name might be Edna but we really don't know for sure and quite frankly none of us is really brave enough to ask.

She is a no nonsense women. She eats but only small delicate sandwiches, drinks her coffee black, always asks for "just half, thank you" when offered any food item.

She enjoys sex but merely as a perfunctory habit to keep her complexion clear and help her sleep, she would never do it in the morning and sure as hell is not going to do it under the trees in the forest or on the beach in broad daylight, like Sinthia...."that is purely an inappropriate use of time."

We all call Ms. Richardson, Ms. Richardson, and if you dare ask her what her friends call her, she firmly responds, "Ms. Richardson".

She is responsible, reliable, trustworthy, prompt and makes sure we shower daily and pay the bills on time. She is in charge of the finances and grocery shopping lists.

Again, the class is called "Raking Leaves In the Wind" and it was developed and is taught by Ingrid Kinkaid. I swear, your life will never be the same after you rake some leaves in the wind and discover the real beliefs and values of the real you!

just a little puzzled

2008-06-28T02:34:00.000-07:00

I went to the ATM today. Slid in my card and the monitor prompts me to hit the button if I would like to make my transaction in English....does this bother any of you? When I live in a country who's main language is English why do I have to be asked if I want to do business in English?

I can see why there would be a prompt for any other language and I understand the tech-stuff behind it but still....its...its....its annoying.

Another really annoying thing is that stupid commercial with the guy burning his broom (how stupid is that?) up in his kitchen while he tries to reach a human at his credit card company. When did our culture become so anti-customer service that someone thinks that actually advertising that there are human beings available to talk to at their agency is a good marketing posture? But then again, have you tried to actually talk to a real live person at PG&E, or the telephone company or your credit card company?

I can see the future...a 9-1-1 call!

"If you would like to report an emergency in English press 1 now"

"1"

"If you are reporting a fire press 1, an autoaccident press 2, a robbery in progress press 3, a mugging press 4, an emergency medical condition press 5, a suspected act of terrorism please hang up and call the Homeland Security #866-555-1111 all other conditions press....

"5"

If the victim is not breathing press 1, if the victim is breathing but bleeding press 2, if the pers.....

"2"

If the breathing but bleeding victim is bleeding from an attack press 1, if the breathing but bleeding person is bleeding from a self-inflicted would please press 5150.

"1"

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"...another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody....."

2008-06-28T02:10:00.000-07:00

"Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody I've got some money 'cause I just got paid Now, how I wish I had someone to talk to I'm in an awful way"

Okay, maybe this isn't 100 percent true but the tune has been going through my mind over and over and actually both versions of it...Sam Cooke and Cat Stevens?

If I could choose one version to get stuck in my brain which one would it be....Okay, gotta be Sam Cooke cuz heeeeee sends me, I know that heeeeee sends me......

So, which version do you prefer?

A Groovy Kind of Love? Diane and Annita(who?) or Phil Collins, hands down Phil Collins, who else could make those lyrics sound so cool and sophisticated. Patti LaBelle and Sonny and Cher also recorded it, though not memorably (is that a word?)

You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling? Righteous Brothers, Elvis Presley, Hall & Oates, Kenny Rogers (I know, he doesn't rate the list but he did record it) and don't forget The Boom Boom Band.

Dionne Warwick recorded it too. Close race between Righteious Brothers and Elvis but I've got to go with the Righteous Brothers...got goose bumps just thinking about it.

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da? The Beatles, Herb Alpert or Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops? I know, No contest. Next!

You Send Me? Back to my dream partner Sam Cooke. Who would be so foolish to try and follow up the best slow-hold-me-tight-honey-and sneak-a-kiss song in the entire galaxy? The Supremes, nice try girls, Steve Miller Band, Richie Havens, Percy Sledge, Michael Bolton, uh, no, and Rod Stewart, which was nice but not Sam, and didn't Chaka Kahn sing it too? Sam where are you?

Crazy? Now Patsy Cline wins this one hands down and Norah Jones comes in a close second but the list of people who didn't record it would be shorter than the list of everyone who did.

Patsy Cline gets my vote for Walkin' After Midnight too.

Am I Blue? Great song, best when alone with a half pint of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, flannel jammies, box of tissue and big fluffy pillows. Okay, everyone at the same time....Ethel Waters! But it was also recorded by Fats Domino, Charlie Rich, Linda Ronstadt (was that pre or post Jerry Brown) Bette Midler and when I was a little girl, Gloria Lynne.

Am I losing everyone under 40?

Michael Buble or Frank Sinatra? Come Fly With Me

Queen , Diana Krall or Michael Buble? Crazy Thing Called Love

Michael Buble or Paul Anka? Put Your Head On My Shoulder, Paul Anka because I remember my head on Mike Gardner's shoulder when I was 16 and it felt good...he never could understand why I broke up with him...it might have had something to do with the fact that he wanted to be a priest when he grew up!!!!

Let's Fall In Love? Now tell me that song isn't great no matter who is singing it? Diana Krall, Tony Bennett and, uh, what's his name, oh yeah, Rod Stewart. Its delicious anytime.

Against All Odds (Take a Look at Me Now) Phil Collins, he's the man, Scott Savol, I love his voice and Mariah Carey...get a job, honey!

Cruisin' Now this is a contest and I love Smokey Robinson but I gotta tell ya Gwyneth Paltrow and Huey Lewis harmonized themselves into my heart, any of my kids readin' this, I want the Duets sound track for Christmas.

Speaking of Huey Lewis, what about Little Bitty Pretty One? Doesn't that song just make you want to put a poodle skirt and jitter-buggin' shoes on and cut a rug! Let me see, Bobby Day and the Satellites, Frankie Avalon, The Dave Clark Five (oh yes they did!!!), the Alley Cats, The Dovells (was over quickly), the Jackson 5, yeah, them too!

Love Huey Lewis but Frankie Avalon didn't suck....at least that's what my mommy told me (wink wink knudge knudge)

Riding in a Stolen Car (might just be Stolen Car), Patty Griffin, Bruce Springsteen or the Rocking Chairs (?). Sorry you rockers, gotta go with my girl, Patty.

Break On Thru To The Other Side: Doors or Stone Temple Pilots? Doors, baby!!!

Speaking of the Doors, how could I have forgotten L.A. Woman. Billy Idol, The King, Days of the New. THE DOORS! geez' doesn't anybody have a clue?

Takin' It To The Streets, Doobie Brothers, shame on Take 6 for even trying.

Remember Captain and Tenille and Love Will Keep Us Together. So who do like in this one, Neil Sedaka, The Captain and Tenille, The Tubes or Nickleback or DelBo?

Nickleback also did Saturday Night's Alright. The Who, Elton John, Flotsam and Jetsam or Nickleback. Can't answer that one, haven't heard Nickleback sing it but Elton and The Who are pretty close....alright, Elton, no The Who, no Elton...uh, let me think about it.

Tiny Dancer? Elton or Red Hot Chili Peppers. Elton John and he really did do Saturday Night's Alright the best, yeah, yeah, that's my answer and I'm stickin' to it.

Good Day Sunshine? Lampshade or Beatles..Lampshade, what were you thinkin'?

Monday, Monday? Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs or Mamas and Papas. Who can beat Mama Cass's harmonies?

Well, that was a nice little walk down memory lane and I'm still alone but now I truly feel really old and I'm back to humming: "Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody I've got some money 'cause I just got paid Now, how I wish I had someone to talk to, I'm in an awful way"

My Dad

2008-06-28T02:02:00.000-07:00

My dad is one of the funniest men I know, next to my sons, John and Adam.

Dad's sayings started off pretty low key when I was really young. I am the oldest of three, but whenever he was asked how many kids he had, Dad would always answer, "4! There's Toni, Michael, Sherree and Nahme!"

Whenever he asked one of us "who did this?" Our response was always, "Nah ME!"

There were all the usual sayings, "Because I'm the Dad, that's why!" and "If Bobby jumped off a bridge would you jump to?" "Don't make me come in there!" but he had some pretty original stuff too. You've heard the expressions, "You can take a horse to water but you can't make him drink" and "Buy them book and buy them books and all they do is read the covers"? Well, Dad has his own twist to them.

He can often be heard exclaiming, "You can take a horse to water but all he does is chew the covers." or

"Buy them books and buy them books but all they do is drink the water!" or "You can lead a horse to water but all he does is read the books." And variations there of!

When I was 14, Dad and Mom purchased a brand new station wagon, beautiful light blue, dark blue two-tone. When our shiny blue car was about 6 weeks old, we decided to pack it up for an excursion to Mexico. My mom, sister and I took a quick trip to the mall to pick up a couple of last-minute items.

While driving through the parking lot, a woman in a big car ran a stop sign when she turned to her back seat to tell her two little boys to stop fighting. We were right in front of her when she turned forward. Slamming on her brakes she punched the accelerator instead and slammed into our front passenger door, where I was sitting, then in slow motion her car and our car started a slide sideways. She turned around to see if her boys were okay, turned back around and saw that she was going to hit us again so she went to hit the brakes again and (again) hit the accelerator and slammed into our rear passenger door where my sister was sitting. My sister broke her collar bone, mom and I had cuts and bruises, the lady and her boys were fine. Our brand new station wagon had a crushed in front door and a crushed in back door.

After the whole ordeal, we made it back home before my dad got home from work. Mom had parked the car in the garage, she hadn't called my dad about the accident. She was kinda paranoid about wrecking the car even though it wasn't her fault.

So my dad gets dropped off by his buddy (carpool) and lifts the garage door and comes in right past the car. (He usually comes in the front door so we were all freaked!) He walks in the family room door, takes off his boots, sits at the dining room table to read the paper and talk with Mom as she cooks dinner.

After about 3 or 4 minutes he pauses from reading, puts the newspaper down and walks back into the garage; he just realized what he had seen in his peripheral vision. He walks over to the car and stares at it, remember, he had seen all of us so he knew we were all okay.

He walks back into the house, sits at the table, picks the newspaper back up and tells Mom, "Gee, Irene, if you had wanted an accordian you should have asked for an accordian!"

We had a pool when I was growing up but right next to it was a Mamosa tree. Pretty tree if its in someone else's yard, but just a junk tree if its in your own yard, especially if it is next to your pool. It is definitely not a friend of pool filters. It is also famous for its incredibly fast growth. Mom really loved the tree and Dad really hated it. Every two or three years, my dad and my brother would be sitting quietly in the family room or playing pool on a Saturday morning while Mom put together the grocery list. As soon as she backed out of the garage, Mike and Dad would jump up and start sawing down the Mamosa. In the one to two hours that Mom was gone, they would chop the tree down and cut all the branches into small enough pieces to go into the wood pile. By the time Mom came home there would be little evidence that a Mamosa tree was ever there, sometimes it was weeks before Mom noticed it was gone. In 2 or 3 years it would happen all over again.

Our house was on a dead-end road and backed by Bing Cherry and Sugar Plum orchards. (Oh, yeah, remind to tell you about the time I got shot in the tushie with rock salt by the farmer for sitting up in his trees and eating cherries while I read my books). The kids in the neighborhood would congregate in the dead-end and we would play kick-the-can, (full-contact hide and seek if you haven't heard of it). Every now and then we kids would hear a full out Tarzan yell and we could see my dad running out the patio door, jumping over the hedge around our patio, he would disappear for a moment then reappear as he vaulted over the back fence. He would run into the street, kick the can and vault back over the fence.

He also played the piano really well. Only problem was that he could only play 3 songs, Chopin Pollinaise, Boogie Woogie and the Hamm's beer song, you know the one that goes, "in the land of sky blue waters...."

Whenever there is a floor fan blowing he gets behind it and does his Gepetto-searching-for-Pinochio impersonation, into the fan he calls, "Pinochio"! It does sound like he's underwater.

Oh, speaking of water, when my oldest son was about 2 years old he would help my dad with his yard work. They would set the sprinkler out on the lawn and Dad would ask Little John to remind him in 20 minutes to change the water. One time they let the water sit in the same place a couple of hours and my son jumped up and yelled, "Good God the Water!" They both ran out the door to change the position of the sprinkler. After that every time my mom would get annoyed with my dad and start to pick on him or nag him, he would jump up and yell, "Good God the water" and run out the back door!

Every time we kids had to stay home with a baby sitter while Mom and Dad went to some grown-up-event we would ask Dad when they got home how the event was. Dad would answer as if it had been the most annoying thing and he would say, "Oh, okay except there was a midget who had his nose in everyone's business and a big tall guy who had his business in everyone's nose!"

Dad came up with a question every night at dinner. What do I think about affirmative action?
Where do I stand on abortion? He insisted that I take a side and he always, ALWAYS, took the opposite side. He made me support my thoughts with facts, he taught me critical thinking.

He also taught me to never support a football team south of the Mason-Dixon line, how to cook killer beef stroganoff and lasagne, how to shoot and how to play the boogie-woogie on the piano.

All of our lives we heard stories of how poor our parents were when they were growing up but the best one was when we were older teenagers. Dad would tell us, usually on Christmas morning but other times too: "Why, I was so poor when I was a kid that on Christmas morning, if I didn't wake up with an erection, I wouldn't have anything to play with!"

Breathe

2008-06-28T01:51:00.000-07:00

Breathe ~ again

I wrote this blog earlier this year but I felt it needed to be said again

Breathe

A recent bulletin described the increase in respiratory illness due to diminished air quality. It is true that we are not taking care of our Mother, the Earth, as well as we should and that we need to pay attention.

It is equally as important that we do not assume a "Victim of Circumstances" mind-set.

Many of us listen to bad news, corrupt news, "they're-gonna-get-you" news all day long and though it is important that we stay informed and involved we must take care not to do so at the detriment of our health.

After all, how can dead or sick people change the world!

When we are stressed and anxious we breathe through our mouths. This causes our bodies to instantly shift gears into the "fight or flight" mode.

This means that the majority of blood vessels in the viscera (our innards or trunk) restrict, sending the majority of blood to our limbs to help us run or punch or protect through defensive motions, the blood vessils in the front of the brain also restrict and send the blood to the back of the brain (reaction-impulse-instinct centers).

Now this lack of blood in the viscera causes our non-vital systems to shut down. First to go is immune system, followed closely by many other systems and organs such as thyroid, digestion, pancreas, kidneys, etc.

Now the front part of the brain has to run with a minimal amount of blood so it to reduces or shuts down its processes such as decision making, thinking, creativity. (Next time you're at the store and you're stressed and you can't decide between whole wheat or twelve grain, check your breathing, you're probably breathing through your mouth, its dry, your shoulders are up around your ears and you just can't make such a momentous decision at the time).

Now, we add to this situation the fact that most of us only breathe with about 30% of our lungs, I wouldn't be making any major bets on the welfare of our immune systems.

When we are not stressed and when we breathe through our noses the blood is distributed evenly throughout our body. Our organs and systems florish, they do their jobs. We have less illness, less cancer, less chronic issues, our brain can make decisions, we become more creative, more successful, happier.

So, if you are not being chased by a tyranosaurus or training for an HBO Boxing Championship fight you should take a deep breath through that snoz of yours and fill those lungs to capacity.

Breathe,

Imagine Good Things,

Remind Your Cells How Good Life Is

and the next time you read one of those Doom and Gloom bulletins say, "Bummer" and get on with creating a good day.

Mother of Mother's Day: Julia Howe

2008-06-28T01:45:00.000-07:00

Do you know who Julia Ward Howe is?

You could say she is the mother of Mother's Day. Though her intention was not to set aside one day of the year for mothers to get flowers, cards and maybe breakfast in bed.

Her intention for Mother's Day was a day for women to stand up and say "ENOUGH".

Women, we are the strongest, the most intent and as a group, the most powerful entity on earth.

There is no reason for us to tolerate war, to tolerate child abuse, to tolerate corrupt government, to tolerate the media holding our daughter's self worth hostage.

Please read:

Howe's Mother's Day Proclamation - 1870

Arise then...women of this day!

Arise, all women who have hearts!

Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!

Say firmly: "We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies.

Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,

For caresses and applause.

Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn

All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.

We, the women of one country, Will be too tender of those of another country

To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."

From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with

Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!

The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.

"Blood does not wipe out dishonor,

Nor violence indicate possession.

As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil

At the summons of war,

Let women now leave all that may be left of home

For a great and earnest day of counsel.

Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.

Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means

Whereby the great human family can live in peace...Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,

But of God -In the name of womanhood and humanity,

I earnestly ask

That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,

May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient

And the earliest period consistent with its objects,

To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,

The amicable settlement of international questions,

The great and general interests of peace.

10 Steps To Peaceful Consciousness

2008-06-28T01:33:00.000-07:00

Found this wonderful message surfin' this morning and thought I wouldshare it. It is from Deepak Chopra.

Each step is just as important as the next but I really do love step 10, being with my precious granddaughters every day.

I've said it before and I will say it many more times but I am sure there will come a time when our great-great grandchildren will be reading in their history books how primitive man once believed that the world was flat and that conflicts could be resolved with violence.

Those wonderful children will shake their heads at such archaic and ignorant philosophies.

I also think they will be reading how the women, sisters, mothers and grandmothers gathered together and changed the world one heart at a time.

Ten Steps to Peace Consciousness

1. Change doesn't start on the surface. It's generated from consciousness. This has been true throughout history. If both Buddhism and Christianity could begin with one person, let us not think in terms of numbers and odds. It may sound grandiose to compare ourselves to great spiritual guides, but we act collectively, as an alliance. Our strength comes from critical mass.

2. We aren't here to make the world evolve. We are here to evolve as individuals and then to spread that influence. In the wisdom tradition of Vedanta, the stream of evolution is known in Sanskrit as Dharma, from a root verb that means 'to uphold.' This gives us a clue how to live: the easiest way for us to grow is to align ourselves with Dharma. We don't have to struggle to grow--that would be unproductive, in fact. The Dharma has always favored non-violence. If we can bring ourselves to a state of non-violence, and connect with others who are doing the same thing, we have done a huge thing to reinforce Dharma.

3. Societies get into the grip of their own self-created story. It's helpful to realize that we can choose not to participate in that story. Realize that national and tribal stories are limited, self-serving, based on the past, reinforced by orthodoxy, and therefore opposed to real change. Stories are incredibly persuasive. Wars are fueled by victimization that runs deep, for example. So let us not try to change anyone's story. Let us only notice and observe ourselves when we buy into it and then let us back away from participating in it.

4. Let us not demand of ourselves that we alone must be the agent of change. In a fire brigade everyone passes along a bucket, but only the last person puts out the fire. None of us know where we stand in line. We may be here simply to pass a bucket; we may be called on to play a major role. In either case, all we can do is think, act, and say. Let us direct our thoughts, words, and actions to peace. That is all we can do. Let the results be what they will be.

5. Let us realize that engagement and detachment aren't opposite—the more engaged we become, the more detached we will have to be. Otherwise, we will lose ourselves in conflict, obsessiveness, anxiety over the future, and feelings of guilt and inadequacy. Keep in mind that we are pioneers into the unknown, and uncertainty is our ally. When our minds want closure, certainty, and finality, let us remind ourselves that these are fictions. Our joyous moments will come from riding the wave, not asking to get off at the next station.

6. Since most misery is born of failed expectations let us learn to minimize expectations so that we will feel far less guilt and disappointment.

7. We aren't here to be good or perfect. We are here as the antennas for signals from the future. We are here to be midwives to something that wants to be born. Good people have preceded us. They solved some problems and created others. As one wise teacher said, "You aren't here to be as good as possible. You are here to be as real as possible."

8. I know this sounds difficult, but let us try to be tolerant of intolerance. This is a hard one at times, but if you try the opposite—showing a hard heart against those with hard hearts of their own—all we've done is expand the problem. It's helpful (but often difficult) to remember that everyone is doing the best they can form their own level of consciousness. Trying to talk a terrorist out of his beliefs is like trying to persuade a lion to be a vegetarian. All we can realistically do is seek openings for higher awareness.

9. Let us resist the lure of dualities. These include us versus them, civilized versus barbarians, good versus evil. The good, civilized people of Europe managed to kill millions of themselves, along with millions of "them." In reality we are all in the same boat of human conflict and confusion. Sometimes it helps to admit that the doctor is not far from being a patient.

10. Let's create an atmosphere of peace around ourselves. Imagine that we are like a mother whose children come home crying about fights at school. Would it be her job to soothe their wounds or to arm them for fighting back tomorrow? Simplistic as it may sound, the male principle of aggression can only be healed by the feminine principle of nurturing and love.

Love,

Deepak

A Party Of Ten

2008-06-28T01:25:00.000-07:00

Okay, you just recieved a phone call from Donald Trump. (it could happen!) He has arranged for you and 9 other people to spend a weekend all expenses paid.

It is your choice where you go but you can only take 9 people that you don't know personally.
It is a weekend to share ideas and learn from each other.

Where do you go and who do you take?

I'm going to take my guests to a Grand Log Cabin in the Colorado Rockies. We will sit around the river rock fireplace, with a blazing fire, sipping fine wine and discussing life and life's journey.

How to make the world a better place.

My guest list includes:
Neale Donald Walsch

Sue Monk Kidd

Nelson Mandela

Bruce Lipton

Kate Millet

Miriam Cruz

Christine Northrup

Wayne Dyer

Deepak Chopra

I've got goose bumps just thinking about it!

So where would you go and who would you take?

Shoppe of Lost And Found Dreams ~ Now Open

2008-06-28T01:09:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning and knew that I had experienced a very important dream last night. It started with a meditation.

In this meditation I imagined a pair of giant doors, incredibly beautiful but so light that I could open them with one finger. As the doors opened a golden light washed over me and washed away all the stress and tension, the tresspasses and tresspassings. It was awesome and I gently slipped into dream time.

Something changed last night and I can almost put my finger on it, almost taste it, almost bring it into focus and then it slips away. Does that ever happen to you?

In just the last month or two some of my dreams and hopes that I have had for the future have been lost or drastically changed.

Have you lost a dream?

Did something happen in your life that made that dream slip into the ether and you haven't been able to recover it? Is it because Father/Mother/God has a better dream for you than you had for yourself?

I want to open a Lost and Found for Dreams.

The shop will be on a hill. As each individual walks up the path to the shop they will see the shop only as they can and need too. For some, it will be a sweet little thatched cottage in the woods, for another it might be a towering castle in the fog, still another might see Grandma's house on 24th and Gilpin and know that Grandma is waiting inside to hold you, give you some homemade bread and talk to you about your dreams.

For everyone the doors will open with a gentle push of one finger and as you walk in a brilliant light of love and forgiveness and acceptance will wash over you. There may be a shelf or two here and there where you can see some old dreams, a little dusty and maybe a little chip here and there but as you glide across the floor a glorious gilded cabinet rises to meet you.

The light is so bright, but smells of new rain and fresh mountain air. The glass doors open slowly and there in the light is the Divine's version of your dream.

What does it look like? How does it feel?

Are you ready to wrap it around you and own it?

Soundtrack To My Life

2008-06-28T00:57:00.002-07:00

Sort of an introduction to me...because you know it is all about me:

Now we can call this blog Soundtrack to my life or we can call it putting off until later what I should have accomplished this morning.....Your call

Opening Credits: Poems, Prayers and Promises ~ John Denver

Waking Up Scene: Its a Beautiful Morning ~ The RascalsCar

Driving Scene: I Can't Drive 55 ~ Sammy Hagar

High School Flashback Scene: Hooked On a Feeling ~ BJ Thomas seguey into California Dreamin' ~Mamas and Papas

Nostalgic Scene: Time In A Bottle ~ Jim Croce

Bitter, Angry Scene: Draw The Line ~ Aerosmith

Break-up Scene: Hit The Road Jack ~ Ray Charles

Regret Scene: Let It Be ~ John Denver

Nightclub/Bar Scene: Boogie Woogie ~ Tommy Dorsey

Fight/Action Scene: Mission Impossible.....helloooo!

Saturday Morning/Cleaning the House Scene: James Taylor's Greatest Hits or Anna Nalick depends on the degree of the mess!

Lawn Mowing Scene: Sweet Home Alabama - Lynrd SkynrdSad,

Breakdown scene: Forever Love (Digame) ~ Anna Nalick

Death Scene: Mil Besos ~ Patty Griffin

Funeral Scene: Poems, Prayers and Promises and Country Roads ~ John DenverMellow

Pot-smoking Scene: (yes, there will be one of those scenes...a little flashback) Summer Breeze ~ Seals & Croft

Dreaming About Someone Scene: Dreamin' of You ~ Selena

Sex Scene: Has been censored from the movie version but as the scene fades away Lionel Richie starts to sing Brick House!!!!!

Contemplation Scene: Unswritten ~ Natasha Bedingfield

Chase Scene: The Merry Minuet ~ Kingston Trio

Happy Love Scene: Theme from Tootsie It Might Be You ~ Stephen Bishop

Happy Friend Scene: Boney Fingers by me with my kids singing along

Closing Credits: Brown Eyed Girl ~ Van Morrison

So, do you think you know me any better?