tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91706563199293115352024-03-05T04:36:42.298-05:00Wendilea SpeaksReflections from the everyday House GoddessWendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comBlogger276125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-80696701853382591932013-01-21T17:24:00.000-05:002013-01-21T17:24:05.252-05:00A Sun Dog of Hope<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It was early in January, cold, crisp, and breezy as I walked to the park with my granddaughter for some fresh air and playtime. We talked about the River Birch and Pine Trees that dotted our path. We listened for bird sounds that we recognize, like cardinals and crows. She found two large twigs on the ground and we decided to go "fishing" from the little bridge that lies upon the path to the park. We use our imaginations and in this shared experience I can teach my three year old granddaughter spiritual principles as we connect with Nature. After we had our fun swinging on swings, and sliding down the "slidey boards" while holding hands, we headed back home. It was then that we saw this "sundog," otherwise known as a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times, serif; font-size: 23px; line-height: 33px;">parhelion. Scientifically, it is ice-crystals in the atmosphere that are illuminated by the sun when the angle (22 degrees, some sites say) is right. To me it is a wonderful beacon of hope, seen when I was fully present in the now, enjoying myself immensely with my wonderful granddaughter. When I told her what it was, she sighed, and exclaimed, "Ohhh... a dog rainbow." I simply told her that it was a special sight and means good things are coming. She smiled and held my hand. "I <i>know," </i>is all she said.</span>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-63008376197053953982012-12-20T20:52:00.000-05:002012-12-20T20:52:26.306-05:00On Your Own<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here it is, the eve of the ascension or the apocalypse or whatever your dualistic view is, and suddenly you find yourself all alone on the playing field. No more words from the sages, ETs, or conspirators... all the hype has calmed down and we are back to dealing with our own existential angst. A little star twinkles brightly upon an early morning cloud, illuminated by the glow of a sleepy sun that that has yet one more day to lollygag until it gradually has to start rising earlier by a minute or two as it has always done.<br />
Maybe tomorrow it won't rise at all, or it will be joined by another sun, or a purple sun... who knows, the possibilities are endless.<br />
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I'm betting that it will be another day, more wonderful than yesterday, as the possibilities still remain unknown and endless.<br />
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Regardless of how you might view the Solstice, the winking of that little star still gives me a smile... that something will be shining that I wouldn't want to miss.<br />
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Happy Solstice and a Wonderful Wherever you find yourself! Much love and light to warm your heart! Bright blessings!Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-32488858973666853852012-07-18T21:38:00.000-04:002012-07-18T21:38:07.688-04:00Lone Bird<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Over the past several months, I have read so much information related to how the world really works via Internet that it is enough to make my head swim. I have turned off the TV, especially the news channels who barrage the airwaves with annoying commercials and report about crimes and politics that are of no interest to me whatsoever. The message in all of this seems to be that the world is not safe, so get to the department stores and car dealerships, then hurry home and take your pharmaceuticals and watch our shows and you will lead a satisfying life. I haven't fallen for that propaganda and have gradually lost all respect for the media ( in fact in 1993 I a made an outrageous statement that the American media was one of the great evils in the world and was shocked by my own words). I am no longer shocked by any thing these days. Our food and water is being poisoned, the banks are robbing people blind, our political system is completely broken, and our freedoms are becoming extinct by the day. An intuit such as myself could feel hopeless under these circumstances, but the optimist in me continues to BELIEVE. Not in the usual religious sense, as it seems clear that organized religion is in cahoots with the current powers that be. Our planet and even our moon has been under attack and yet I do not feel powerless to stop this ongoing assault on humanity and our Mother. I have a plan that works for me and I believe that my actions are as important as the proverbial butterfly's wings that can cause a typhoon miles and miles away. I will share some of the underground knowledge that is surfacing in this new age of truth, and I have taken steps, albeit, baby steps to do my part in the matters in which I still have control. I will share some of these to anyone who cares to effect their own small changes.<br />
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I use baking soda to brush my teeth... not fluoridated toothpaste. I also use a carbon filter on my tap water and wait for the day that I can afford a reverse osmosis filter system.<br />
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No more brand name brand products that claim to be natural, if it isn't organic I don't believe the label.<br />
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If an American company sends me merchandise and the item has a Made in China label, I will not buy their products again and will email to tell them so.<br />
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I send petitions to our legislators weekly showing my unhappiness with their bill choices, and it only takes a little research and a mouse-click to do this.<br />
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I research the origin of every product that I intend to buy and if it comes from a big agribusiness, pharmaceutical, or chemical company... I won't buy it.<br />
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I no longer watch any TV except for Jeopardy and an occasional movie.<br />
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I switched from a Big Bank to a small credit union and got rid of all debt and credit cards.<br />
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I know it takes time and effort, but since I haven't had a full-time job in three years, I have plenty of time to do this and I am grateful for the employment that I do have.<br />
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My wise mother once told me "I make myself rich by making my wants few" and I think it is excellent advice. A non cluttered life of the basic things that you really utilize and appreciate is the first step towards the financial freedom we all seek.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-78243422318993953332012-07-18T21:37:00.000-04:002012-07-18T21:37:32.031-04:00Head in the clouds... again!<br />
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Here I am, visiting my old site and it seems that time is just racing by even though I have very little that I have to do. I just reread my previous blog about Occupy Wall Street which was attended and written months ago. It motivated me to become both a political activist and a political passivist at the same time. Since I have already established myself as a bit of a social coward, I will say that much of my time is spent on my computer researching all that is going on in the world, connecting that with what has gone on in the world, and melding it with some fantastic theories of what will be in the world... and it has been quite a journey.</div>
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I have been socially engaged in petitioning for causes I fully support which includes animal rights, social justice, environment stewardship, human freedoms, women's causes... just to name a few, and my inbox is always full of requests for my support. I can give a signature and it seems insensitive not to do so when a cause I believe in comes to light. I currently don't have a job and so money is out of the question, and frankly in the near future, I don't think money is going to even matter. That is why I am such a political passivist. Both campaigns are corrupted by wasted money on their selfish causes... well, I don't think there is a good choice.</div>
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I do meditate every day, and I tend to the small plot in my community garden, and of course I live to spend those precious moments with my family.</div>
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But I wish to share a little story about how important it is not to get caught up with all the negativity that is swirling around in both the mainstream media and the Internet alternative. There is no doubt in my mind that we are in the midst of a grand paradigm shift. I have spent hours on the Internet reading everything from the most shocking conspiracy theories to the most dogmatic rational interviews and quite frankly it becomes overwhelming.</div>
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Mostly I am peaceful and finding an almost isolated state of grace, but one night I found myself angrily questioning my faith in "the Divine." It was the "dark night of the soul" that had left me alone for quite some time now... yet it came back with a vengeance. As Eckhart Tolle would term it ... a BIG pain body.</div>
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The following day when I felt a bit repentant for my ill chosen thoughts, I tried meditating about peace and love on my couch, and suddenly I could feel myself being pulled away somewhere on a moving gurney. It was a familiar feeling and yet I pretended to remain asleep as I didn't want to really see what I knew I was experiencing. All I can say is that I was no longer on my couch. I was brought to an examination room where my thoughts were being viewed from a control room... much like a CT scan. I could hear a voice giving monotonous commands and so I started to think of all the loving thoughts that I could conjure. I could see in my minds eye that the screen was lighting up in a spectacular array of color, and although it was of interest to whoever was studying me, it was also an annoyance. I would not give in to fear. This went on for the good part of an hour until I became mentally fatigued and my thoughts called out..."Sweet Jesus, please help me here." A screeching voice, yelled... Who is this Jesus of who you speak... I want to meet them!" My last thought was "fat chance of that" and I awoke abruptly to the sound of my phone ringing. I was back on my couch again. </div>
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It was a good reminder that you do indeed create your own reality, and so I will be a little more selective in where I allow my thoughts to roam. Namaste.</div>
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<br /></div>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-32595698578268047472011-11-18T22:24:00.000-05:002011-11-18T22:24:29.197-05:00Occupy Reflections<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJXlnSdHib79rqTafqNHqNgcB2CVLBU0Dxn8VSAy76Czbzwbfvc9GqRegQ7M_HibzNjw5oqTIpKIh3GD8Rbr8I3bvsnj6yb4G_HFRB35Uy_I-KyoP_vSht5sYsmugpmAj3rGUXrXzAX8U/s1600/IMG_2779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJXlnSdHib79rqTafqNHqNgcB2CVLBU0Dxn8VSAy76Czbzwbfvc9GqRegQ7M_HibzNjw5oqTIpKIh3GD8Rbr8I3bvsnj6yb4G_HFRB35Uy_I-KyoP_vSht5sYsmugpmAj3rGUXrXzAX8U/s400/IMG_2779.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>A statue of a corporate dude is the only symbol that was visible at Zuccotti Park when we arrived the morning of November 17, 2011, as if taunting the incoming protestors of the previous night's raid. A few workers garbed in pseudo haz-mat suits were steam cleaning the park as a good riddance reminder of what the mayor thinks of the Occupy ilk.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZqqQhy4FXCz8y10QbrXN0aqFQ5HnSvhrAo0fhM_T4V39yuLQTedgC-raFJyG0mEC58Zn5FqNw25m6K-sblAJhC8L7CZmmaGxs64MVM_SFBBbMne7zoPfpu9_v-not7JRBU4bbWcl18sh/s1600/IMG_2784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSZqqQhy4FXCz8y10QbrXN0aqFQ5HnSvhrAo0fhM_T4V39yuLQTedgC-raFJyG0mEC58Zn5FqNw25m6K-sblAJhC8L7CZmmaGxs64MVM_SFBBbMne7zoPfpu9_v-not7JRBU4bbWcl18sh/s400/IMG_2784.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Just as we got around the block, another small police presence arrived...ironically by the Imperial truck. There were only three of them so we slipped by.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0vmUXUPI8oQatKauplVby_kiGktL288i_u9h_vVkraGcU87_jsxSw1tT_8VwTW_YmzHliIiO-ihQNpch_Kqjg2VTZP_31D6jIIfS3dGWY8_WU_YN74pfb6lwgWd_o0cAtATFg9kQ9ZxNe/s1600/IMG_2792.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0vmUXUPI8oQatKauplVby_kiGktL288i_u9h_vVkraGcU87_jsxSw1tT_8VwTW_YmzHliIiO-ihQNpch_Kqjg2VTZP_31D6jIIfS3dGWY8_WU_YN74pfb6lwgWd_o0cAtATFg9kQ9ZxNe/s400/IMG_2792.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>It was light out, but even on a automatic setting my camera could sense the darkness I was experiencing. This is a police state.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjl9_kYKTPS8KbGUSryM9GjtKOjC-vj_oZn0D-Wfpv1NQNkZ0PprwbGGte8Lhyn5dyeD1W-QAzTd4Eg8qSp4gKHb2s39OrvjFo3Y3O09faY47PAPdoX8a2jnq1d6bwG2tzVL_UoZSJXsk/s1600/IMG_2799.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBjl9_kYKTPS8KbGUSryM9GjtKOjC-vj_oZn0D-Wfpv1NQNkZ0PprwbGGte8Lhyn5dyeD1W-QAzTd4Eg8qSp4gKHb2s39OrvjFo3Y3O09faY47PAPdoX8a2jnq1d6bwG2tzVL_UoZSJXsk/s320/IMG_2799.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>The furled hem of the flag just looked like Uncle Sam's cap upon a financial building... freedom to capitalism is what I saw. I was afraid.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwd3s7KFtuQXB9jHVSjAC51p7IE0fRIEDxITwtlFmGnEQsB1UUQobGLnWGYRVnjsH2PdMFfffgFLSSR_kfFcprcQqr_ANpqbUrIQ8aeNVk9HvnTXMM8BeqV4fntr5G0oTHq6qjZuOktkH/s1600/IMG_2807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwd3s7KFtuQXB9jHVSjAC51p7IE0fRIEDxITwtlFmGnEQsB1UUQobGLnWGYRVnjsH2PdMFfffgFLSSR_kfFcprcQqr_ANpqbUrIQ8aeNVk9HvnTXMM8BeqV4fntr5G0oTHq6qjZuOktkH/s400/IMG_2807.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>A peace sign flag was a solace to me and because I was afraid of getting pepper sprayed or clubbed over the head for being here, I put on my best smile and marched with my fingers in a peace sign.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkt-agZhrOeWUBJ9xoyj4HotEhKK7EkSxiy8deC6tiwkhw5A6ZFINFsPceOwqI89BVy52cIVnn57m7gQRYsdOH1B7cDz2_oGZP9llW574UjiyXaZKdcgwlfInduq0GiGRzW15zil-JSup/s1600/IMG_2812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkt-agZhrOeWUBJ9xoyj4HotEhKK7EkSxiy8deC6tiwkhw5A6ZFINFsPceOwqI89BVy52cIVnn57m7gQRYsdOH1B7cDz2_oGZP9llW574UjiyXaZKdcgwlfInduq0GiGRzW15zil-JSup/s400/IMG_2812.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>A simple cardboard message of why I am here. I live well... but why shouldn't everyone else as well. If one of us suffers we all do... isn't this what compassion is about?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9r9TGRrm4w4TpZUx4IPFqtiL5dIZw5lKGh3u3a3w24hxhMqasnkzlosskIkSW_MfqDCyGqnyEtfzDFlslGdZs78SmyeroJ4tGk_TuUKwZ_xMu-9yC54oGe6ApgF-ZVbnY784e6rK08I5/s1600/IMG_2822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9r9TGRrm4w4TpZUx4IPFqtiL5dIZw5lKGh3u3a3w24hxhMqasnkzlosskIkSW_MfqDCyGqnyEtfzDFlslGdZs78SmyeroJ4tGk_TuUKwZ_xMu-9yC54oGe6ApgF-ZVbnY784e6rK08I5/s400/IMG_2822.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Our vantage point... there is only one way to go, Occupy here and now. So we did. Was it scary? Yes, it was.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilvXnWnpdSSi8OSvGq6q-hq7jWnJZyLTV2w9Ex_PK3lhj0yD5bAc3oMI6rfpOIuBTfsZIXu-3xV3lhzk_Go-u2bbxI0BNviyaj3d7KnnpMqZG_lLREHNFCx1JdouRSH_oWxuF1I1YNqbee/s1600/IMG_2823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilvXnWnpdSSi8OSvGq6q-hq7jWnJZyLTV2w9Ex_PK3lhj0yD5bAc3oMI6rfpOIuBTfsZIXu-3xV3lhzk_Go-u2bbxI0BNviyaj3d7KnnpMqZG_lLREHNFCx1JdouRSH_oWxuF1I1YNqbee/s320/IMG_2823.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Another sign lifted by someone my age that gave me solace... these are not just a bunch of angst ridden teenagers out for some anarchy... the attendees were a good sampling of the entire community... young, old, poor, affluent, black, white... all boundaries crossed and in peaceful unity. The mainstream media is wrong.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc3Q4eMCghPMQdIxATxCafMLQICRQgLs_6eOeolwWxI8GWS2xLt-jlI1QAGdIztRFQTZJoQKLxgRNywiJ9Ex3KVNz4Frcom1Z5TDrUWXXsz-oHUww8ZnukM3ZdLY27DJz1z1ON77fw44uB/s1600/IMG_2832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc3Q4eMCghPMQdIxATxCafMLQICRQgLs_6eOeolwWxI8GWS2xLt-jlI1QAGdIztRFQTZJoQKLxgRNywiJ9Ex3KVNz4Frcom1Z5TDrUWXXsz-oHUww8ZnukM3ZdLY27DJz1z1ON77fw44uB/s320/IMG_2832.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>The buildings around wall street are like the cathedrals of olden times, built to intimidate and make you think that capitalism is the pinnacle of the world and somehow godly. This patriarchal aggression will not survive.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJXmFvghdCZkA-4cyXToA1RByX5Momnvj8nR-_UV0MuQdDTVBNof4B52srUFnPSNjw5wm28c4NVUCecWJgNOqfzV978xpnT99GWwj4opOSFMXIcyTCDs_DGfn9WZ7fANJj4XvKqrrEUQV/s1600/IMG_2862.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgJXmFvghdCZkA-4cyXToA1RByX5Momnvj8nR-_UV0MuQdDTVBNof4B52srUFnPSNjw5wm28c4NVUCecWJgNOqfzV978xpnT99GWwj4opOSFMXIcyTCDs_DGfn9WZ7fANJj4XvKqrrEUQV/s400/IMG_2862.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I would still like to remain the beautiful "litter" that decorates the street and bears witness to the hope of Spring in the dying. Only people, not corporations are capable of determining their own personal and collective fate. Power to the People!</div>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-11010269919162768832011-11-11T16:35:00.000-05:002011-11-11T16:35:05.968-05:00Reflections on 11-11-11<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4v1AUIunzlWljYwDykNgoKnGaW3DrGC42uBmuC40l5Fxv7gpTIS7NIPDpyT0Xk_p1e8V3QX6q_rGqHWpNRbg7jv9MEQVMTICNjbEUVpixIcI3QsIhF82ni_uriokjHYxw-zxxpfw3RNLo/s1600/colorful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4v1AUIunzlWljYwDykNgoKnGaW3DrGC42uBmuC40l5Fxv7gpTIS7NIPDpyT0Xk_p1e8V3QX6q_rGqHWpNRbg7jv9MEQVMTICNjbEUVpixIcI3QsIhF82ni_uriokjHYxw-zxxpfw3RNLo/s400/colorful.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Today is a very important and exciting day for me! Over the past several weeks I have been spending many hours alone in quiet reflection and meditation centering on what it means to be alive in this world and what is my purpose for being here? I have experienced many emotions and thoughts... from a peaceful and contented joy to the depths of the dark night of the soul, and though I have have no miraculous answers to my question of search, I have gained some insights regarding my own human experience.<br />
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I am at my core a divinely connected being to everything else in this world, a co-creator with Life itself. My purpose is simply to live and experience and find the joys of being connected to that wonderful something that I cannot fully understand or even talk about... but it seems to be everywhere and I shall call it Divine.<br />
I do not have a particular mission that must be fulfilled... it is ok to be who I am at any given point along the journey of experience, for I am a unique traveler. I look back on my life and find rich reasons for why I feel and think and emote as I do, knowing I lived to the best of my ability and so have all the other travelers who have crossed my path. There is no point in dwelling on what might have been or should have been... doing this has just led me into a state of depression. It's ok to forgive and forget.<br />
I look to the future as an exciting doorway into the unknown, with the unfolding of an experience of ever changing choices. I have a general idea of things I'd like to accomplish, yet I don't spend too much time on the planning and striving part, as this just seems to cause anxiety and ultimate disappointment when my plans don't materialize. It's ok to go with the flow!<br />
As I am physically in my Autumnal years I try to stay present and aware of each moment as I go through the experience of living and I am thankful for all the blessings that I have. I will often say aloud, "Everything is wonderful" and the more I say it, the more wonderful things seem to come to light. I smile and then notice the world smiling around me. When my thoughts stray to the dark side, well... that has a consequence as well, and I have no one to blame but myself for how I feel. So I have learned to stay self aware, especially with my interactions with others. My own conscience and intuition gives me clues as to how I am doing with human connections.<br />
Going forward I would like to speak less, listen more, give joyously of my time and talents to everyone with whom I come in contact with, and focus more on what is right with the world and less on what is wrong. I will accept all of my humaness as a gift... a colorful experience infused with the Divine spirit that connects us all. And I will continue to meditate, as it is a means of finding that inner peace.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-86321394723215926232011-09-22T10:38:00.000-04:002011-09-22T10:38:08.434-04:00Going Within<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi5xvI_24PP-yyA_uogCzlRp0mJnpSAKm0zazVirGFtUGESKdMbVf-zZw7nC3H1pRySR_3ZyoUXZNmilopubvEVLCW9MAtUghN8giHYL_pyIJlTtkl2CLuCJesYFXI5WtB1ne4qEW_I5B5/s1600/within.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi5xvI_24PP-yyA_uogCzlRp0mJnpSAKm0zazVirGFtUGESKdMbVf-zZw7nC3H1pRySR_3ZyoUXZNmilopubvEVLCW9MAtUghN8giHYL_pyIJlTtkl2CLuCJesYFXI5WtB1ne4qEW_I5B5/s400/within.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div> I have had about enough of all the noisy clamor and distraction of the outside world. Everything is changing faster than I can process the information and I think it is now time to quiet myself and go inward. I've have tried to rejoin the external rat race after the quiet nomad adventure of the past year, but something profound happened in the deserts of New Mexico that makes it almost impossible to return to the normalcy of my former existence. Now it wasn't the spiritual awakening of meditation and healthy outdoor living that I anticipated. In contrast, the dreams of the New Mexico desert threw me down in illness and at one point lying in the heat of the Eurovan with fevers, nausea, intestinal upheaval, stabbing back pain and asthma... I could only focus on taking one more breath. Ironically, I took some of my best photos there as I arose from the pit of my despair and tried to focus on the beautiful desolation of my surroundings. I surrendered to whatever fate was in store, as I didn't think I would come out alive. But I did... and recuperated after returning to the lushness and the cool ocean breezes of the West Coast.<br />
There followed an urgent return home to reunite with family and re-establish a home base. I was only able to secure a one day a week teaching position and found myself with much time on my hands. The news blared disaster, there was an earthquake, a hurricane, and lots of external issues to think about... and sleepless nights thinking about them. Memories from childhood surfaced from within the dream world, some good and some not so good. Yet when I really thought about it I wasn't much changed from that lonely kindergarten student that watched the other kids play from a distant corner of the playroom and then retreated to the solitary activity of doing the puzzle of the United States throughout the entire school year. I can still see the pieces and hear my internal pronunciations of Wooming and Oreegan. I was content being a loner back then, until I learned that it was not a good way to be in the world... it was considered weird. Years were spent trying to be outgoing, interesting, successful and I realized that I was the actress that I wanted to be when I grew up.<br />
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Now it is a different game, a new playing field... as a shift in perspective has taken hold. Outwardly there will be no great metamorphosis... I will still enjoy the company of family, still shoot photos of things that interest me, read, write, knit, teach... but instead of trying to fit into a world that doesn't quite make sense any more, I will also go within through meditation and reflection and try to find some of the beauty that I see around me... from a quiet place deep within myself.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88zEusOCgrgVdwHdMYeFBRDoOhRspaP4tJ4BEqyBPFjEI_hNsYHbMMI_NzbVzH_TlzVdZa_x3JHWntii1TB5qw5AVDjuQXlCK2z7VRT8qkIC3gke_ZqWajUUUWYX2K5LmsRfuHX8-2vpf/s1600/IMG_1003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88zEusOCgrgVdwHdMYeFBRDoOhRspaP4tJ4BEqyBPFjEI_hNsYHbMMI_NzbVzH_TlzVdZa_x3JHWntii1TB5qw5AVDjuQXlCK2z7VRT8qkIC3gke_ZqWajUUUWYX2K5LmsRfuHX8-2vpf/s400/IMG_1003.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-27539164907033860752011-09-07T10:07:00.000-04:002011-09-07T10:07:29.174-04:00Discarding Broken Pieces <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJsoLgMLumlfmbuWS6tvG1-IO-9daf6zasUE4kM95bANrKC_W91AJiMofHw8-yuaMXTIRmFB_rOc71-NGdP0wa7HFhlLNu8O_l5dU9vug2LUt8dsAvw0iCpqn-cFYiWso1z2OFianRoZt/s1600/window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjJsoLgMLumlfmbuWS6tvG1-IO-9daf6zasUE4kM95bANrKC_W91AJiMofHw8-yuaMXTIRmFB_rOc71-NGdP0wa7HFhlLNu8O_l5dU9vug2LUt8dsAvw0iCpqn-cFYiWso1z2OFianRoZt/s320/window.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div> Disappointment is like a pervasive cancer that invades the lightness of one's being with sadness, self doubt, and unrest. As infants we come into the world where we seem to be shaped into unique individuals by the breadth of our experiences and relationships. We grow to set goals, while learning from past mistakes, and strive for that honest ideal of who we really are. Maslow termed it self-actualization.<br />
Our first circle of support comes from our small family units where we feel a sense of belonging and in the best case scenario we are loved just for being a part of the whole. Ultimately family members move out into the world and form new relationships and seek new means of self expression... it seems to be the natural order of the human journey. We leave the safety of the nest, test our wings, and connect with others who share in our system of belief. We seek the love and comfort in which we feel validated for our uniqueness.<br />
Sadly, some of our earliest bonds get strained and broken by the choices and direction of our emerging communal self. Just as the earth breaks up with quakes, and angry storms destroy landscapes, human anger and hostility creates even far more damage than Mother Nature could ever dish up. And so family units disintegrate, new alliances are formed, and the clearness and comfort of the family window crashes into pieces.<br />
Often the pieces can be mended and glued back into place, but as the next storm approaches and the hot winds pick up, the mended pieces break loose, smash again and again until all that is left is sharpened shards. At this point, you are faced with a simple question ... is this window even worth fixing? I think not.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Sometimes you must just cut your losses, grieve over what was and what could have been, and refocus on the meaning of family... namely those who love and support you in spite of what you believe.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-30989995278011801842011-08-23T10:26:00.002-04:002011-08-23T10:43:46.906-04:00A Proper Place to Vent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0hA9TG2zwUJ2dtGFDwR7GzYaXIG37jKD79qi5Xhi1e_vvgRT9aSFD9-QQg5qqJsDR9eYY1vawwabBW5k8Ls-Ac_f-_qHg9f0yHB3v9vAWwC8rzYPN4v32qLtEJjV5iA2PW2s15Xm0dML/s1600/divided.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0hA9TG2zwUJ2dtGFDwR7GzYaXIG37jKD79qi5Xhi1e_vvgRT9aSFD9-QQg5qqJsDR9eYY1vawwabBW5k8Ls-Ac_f-_qHg9f0yHB3v9vAWwC8rzYPN4v32qLtEJjV5iA2PW2s15Xm0dML/s400/divided.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well, it has been almost three months since the Nomads have returned from our seven month cross country trip to see America. We have shared our story in the nicest way we could, keeping many of the disturbing sights to ourselves. We watched no TV on the road but kept up with current events via the Internet. We saw first hand the decimation of small towns and neighborhoods with the pickets of signs that spelled "For Lease" or "Foreclosure."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Upon our return, the country seems more fervently divided in its political climate than ever before. One thing is certain and that is everyone shares in the anger... me included. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> It's easy it blame Barack Obama... someone needs to be accountable and he is the current leader. I think this is unfair. It was under the Cheney-Bush administration that we entered two expensive wars that are killing both our young men and our economy. I would like to ask them where the billions of dollars of taxpayer money that was shipped by the pallet-ful to Iraq without a trace went? There is no accounting for it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Why are big corporations garnering record profits when so many Americans can't get jobs? The jobs are overseas because the labor is cheaper and profits can be higher. After all, a corporation's first priority is to make money for it's shareholders... and that would be the ultra-wealthy now wouldn't it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> It's ironic that as a citizen, you are free to go to Atlantic City and lose all your life savings, but when this happened to banks and car companies the American people had to bail them out. In turn they continue business as usual and thumb-nose the taxpyers with the renewal of their big bonuses. Hmm... privatize earnings, socialize losses, then celebrate. That idea makes me mad.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> The Tea Party really gets me fired up though. It's funded by the Koch brothers who are multi-billionaires who want the Government out of their pockets. Guess what folks... the Government is you. You have been voting on it for years. The ultra-wealthy don't care about the things that matter to the rest of us. Healthcare costs for them are pocket change. But to the 80% of Americans who are in foreclosure for medical reasons (even though many had insurance) it means more opportunity to get rid of the pesky middle-class. One plan of theirs is to disassemble Medicare and Social Security. Seems to me these government sponsored programs have been working just fine for our elderly and disabled. Isn't the military a government sponsored program too?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Greed has gotten to the point where it has hitched its ugly star to one of our most sacred personal institutions... religion. Now we have a move to combine religion and politics... just the thing our founding fathers warned against. It seems being a right wing conservative gives credibility because it cleaves to "Christian" values and so it must be right...right? Meanwhile, I wonder if these christians ask themselves what Jesus would do in the current sate of affairs?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Would he be insisting on cutting money to take care of the poor? Would he be sparing the money changers from paying more taxes?Isn't it he who said "It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than a rich man to get to heaven"? I am not a Christian so I can't answer these questions, but if I was it would disturb me.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> I think many Americans have been and are being duped into believing that our current leader is on the wrong track. I think he is purposely be thwarted by an obstructionist political agenda whose aim is to destroy the middle class and bring us back into the dark ages where the King (or Queen) and their court can live lavishly on the backs of the peasants. Our country is being held hostage by these clever liars and thieves who have created the perfect storm to divide the middle class... so that they will eventually fall into a class of peasants. Religious righteousness has historically contributed to the sword of fear that swings against humanity... hello Crusades. I fear a big change is coming... and it won't be pretty. Revolutions never are.</div><span id="goog_1044267125"></span><span id="goog_1044267126"></span>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-87040691927308172132010-10-25T18:39:00.000-04:002010-10-25T18:39:00.188-04:00Now an Astral Nomad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hzhrnYYIBOvcY-8MGzhpyDIV7-XEzaroggPiATzWnbWbUPqadgCExQ43Xnrgeod0t7pNrzunB67mHrKVIFzvYgoQWY7dc6QB-J4AaIv4BowA7JPvW8q431QamP0W8XTg6Y5FOiOHa6rh/s1600/IMG_3633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4hzhrnYYIBOvcY-8MGzhpyDIV7-XEzaroggPiATzWnbWbUPqadgCExQ43Xnrgeod0t7pNrzunB67mHrKVIFzvYgoQWY7dc6QB-J4AaIv4BowA7JPvW8q431QamP0W8XTg6Y5FOiOHa6rh/s320/IMG_3633.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>You can now follow the <a href="http://astralnomads.blogspot.com/">Astral Nomads</a> journey. Just click on the link... I'll be there as part of our team.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-22472914107155327192010-05-27T10:12:00.000-04:002010-05-27T10:12:07.851-04:00Freewheeling!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAg4ehQsQjEsL3gWYYmhQG3YuYN4anqaXx6Rt6eWoxK3hKmWrO62m5wrNiRyHu-d2G0i8BBCs5kU5G2cBnFx69ey4zugqSL9idtRLkP0Qk6PpHdspHUEod5Td8dhyphenhypheneR8e020ulq1L4FfRV/s1600/001311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAg4ehQsQjEsL3gWYYmhQG3YuYN4anqaXx6Rt6eWoxK3hKmWrO62m5wrNiRyHu-d2G0i8BBCs5kU5G2cBnFx69ey4zugqSL9idtRLkP0Qk6PpHdspHUEod5Td8dhyphenhypheneR8e020ulq1L4FfRV/s320/001311.jpg" /></a></div>Well, we finally made a leap of faith and bought our new home. It will take about 90 days to get this Eurovan up to perfect specs and then it will be shipped to us cross country. By that time we will have sold our old house and will be prepared for our journey around the country. Our "yard" will be found at all the great National Parks and Me, Gerry, and Otis will be free wheeling gypsies! The beauty of the plan is the freedom from jobs and house responsibilities and we will be living simply... exploring Nature and our inner selves, writing, journaling, photographing and doing what we love. We will be connected to family via phone and webcam so "seeing" everyone of our loved ones should not be a problem. (Baby girl and I have been practicing talking to the webcam). It reminds me of the song from South Pacific that my mom used to sing to me when I was just a baby, "Happy Talk"... "you gotta have a dream, if you don't have a dream, how you gonna have a dream come true!" I can't teach my grand-daughter to follow her dreams if I don't practice what I preach.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-61316430098386153502010-05-19T10:04:00.000-04:002010-05-19T10:04:45.417-04:00Playtime With Annabel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rXYav-fNoyYflylGeVU7Eaulm3nsQ7xWEOjwmzo7TskT8UxptGhj-_NXK6c59IyZNqfT6URNfQw2bm3hO6-XlzDo60EjwfPjq97AFtmfi8-IXIB7x2sl-bAe0iSyxrqOe1CQXoccngyP/s1600/IMG_1672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9rXYav-fNoyYflylGeVU7Eaulm3nsQ7xWEOjwmzo7TskT8UxptGhj-_NXK6c59IyZNqfT6URNfQw2bm3hO6-XlzDo60EjwfPjq97AFtmfi8-IXIB7x2sl-bAe0iSyxrqOe1CQXoccngyP/s320/IMG_1672.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>What a difference a week makes in the life of a baby. Here's baby girl sitting up against the old chair that really belongs to Otis bunny rabbit. (He gave me special permission to allow her to sit there). She has been practicing her sitting skills and on Monday she was able to sit up for more than a few minutes by herself and play (movie below). It is amazing how she is able to pick things up and shake them, put them in her mouth for a little bite (she is teething), and maintain her balance. Her little milestones come so fast as she grows and learns about her world and I don't want to miss a thing! Even Otis who can be very cantankerous at times is gentle, albeit a little cautious around his cousin. I am so very thankful that I have the time to play and record the events of my dear little grand-daughter.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIs5g8BEB9M">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIs5g8BEB9M</a>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-42854957019187618252010-05-13T17:04:00.001-04:002010-05-13T17:05:33.209-04:00For the Love of Cats<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_slXMQl0kegGP0IKR_4p1QU1DPhGurxbW-NAby2TCLoMMRo0ItKveH-gdFVZor8wnIQuG1N4GEprK2zVVpeSQiKvk61bk9DooyYpykSHBbHC0dMdTgc_X6hsTXbBbrTXv6D34x0gZGE9k/s1600/IMG_1608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_slXMQl0kegGP0IKR_4p1QU1DPhGurxbW-NAby2TCLoMMRo0ItKveH-gdFVZor8wnIQuG1N4GEprK2zVVpeSQiKvk61bk9DooyYpykSHBbHC0dMdTgc_X6hsTXbBbrTXv6D34x0gZGE9k/s320/IMG_1608.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Mimma</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</b></span></div>I love cats and so I can't help but brag about my grankitties. Mimi, or "Mimma" as we call her, is a sweet sultry beauty who only allows public displays of affection on her terms (when you least expect it). Mostly she enjoys sunning herself in the window and avoiding the slobber of Lily the bulldog (she is most tolerant of Lily, even though she considers herself to be far superior to such a simpleton as a dog). She will appear missing for hours after I arrive to watch my grandaughter, and just when I begin to think she doesn't care that I am there, she will gingerly walk over to me as I sit on the couch, jump into my lap and allow me to pet her. No grabbing or loud noise please, she likes the sound of her own purr and likes to be gently stroked and admired... in small doses.<br />
Now Milo is quite another story. He is very good-natured and outgoing, albeit a bit of a nosy bird. Upon my arrival, he will jump on the kitchen table (where he knows he doesn't belong) and stare at his food dish on the windowsill where I put his and Mimma's kitty treats. He is not beneath begging, and as I approach the table to pet his head he will stretch up to my shoulders, stare into my face with that pleading look that demands those fishy little treats, and poke his nose into mine. He is really pretty gentle as he does this maneuver, considering he still has all of his claws and yet he has never once scratched me doing this. Milo needs lots of attention and gets quite annoyed if I dare to read while he is present. As soon as the book is opened he will jump into my lap and worm his way into the book so it would be impossible to read. He has also been known to muscle in when I try to feed baby girl her bottle. He doesn't even mind it when she grabs a bit of his fur, as long as he is able to join in the feeding ritual.<br />
Both Mimma and Milo love when Granny Wen visits, not just because I give them treats and spoil them, but because they are smart enough to know a true "cat person" when they see one.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-31333381704267708522010-05-04T16:20:00.000-04:002010-05-04T16:20:40.317-04:00Going Back in Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAD6MTuorVnt3SRR_QsAO4AiizFNtOiEZ2sA3detpeH1VPuderEuxUFUmLOd6E9waLShenzX1I5cVLPhE6z5d2SNdhOJk-puKLi8q2pjdAstJhBCGNV5c6VbxwTI5m0-oPr3DvNyWujhZH/s1600/DSCN0917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAD6MTuorVnt3SRR_QsAO4AiizFNtOiEZ2sA3detpeH1VPuderEuxUFUmLOd6E9waLShenzX1I5cVLPhE6z5d2SNdhOJk-puKLi8q2pjdAstJhBCGNV5c6VbxwTI5m0-oPr3DvNyWujhZH/s400/DSCN0917.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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One of the best things about living in the same town that you grew up in, is the ability to back to your neighborhood stomping ground and relive those memories of childhood wonderment. We lived up the street from a woods with a stream running through it and many an afternoon was spent traipsing around looking for old artifacts, crayfish, and signs of wild life. The top photo is of "First Brook" which is a little stream that wasn't so little when you were in single digit age and had to jump over it to get into the woods that lead to the more impressive "Second Brook." Mostly we had to take our shoes and socks off and either jump from side to side if it was dry, or wade across if it was full and deep. There was always the danger of getting a soaker (wet feet with shoes and socks on) that would enrage your mother... so one had to be very careful playing here. The younger kids were content to play all afternoon at First Brook, but at about ten years of age there was a rite of passage in our neighborhood that meant you needed to master the wade or the jump over first brook and bravely walk through the woods until you came to the wide expanse of Second Brook ( as seen in the second photo). Here the water ran quickly over the smooth mud and there were patches of pebbles that would stick up and out of the water where you could literally hang out in the middle of the stream. It was a very cool thing to do on a hot day and for the most part everyone got along pretty well... with the older kids looking out for the younger ones. It was a different time back then... there was no parental supervision ( I don't think they really knew where we were) but there was never any question of safety and certainly no fear of strangers. I still love to visit First Brook and Second Brook when I take my daily bike ride... it is still so beautiful there and the memories are priceless.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-50383496768808448482010-04-27T13:23:00.000-04:002010-04-27T13:23:55.685-04:00Singing Like a Birdie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwK_H_h9RADwmmVn6d4LYIwNuL6FBecaU6LDPBMDPSO6Ea-U0pdc-l53Q2R7RBeSbJ9iH5Cu5yY48FwZat5o5V1uiKslJGuV6tD9p2TA2jhFjalsfA3P4oUBET7neweVE_JWSR4rHIhqyw/s1600/IMG_1117.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwK_H_h9RADwmmVn6d4LYIwNuL6FBecaU6LDPBMDPSO6Ea-U0pdc-l53Q2R7RBeSbJ9iH5Cu5yY48FwZat5o5V1uiKslJGuV6tD9p2TA2jhFjalsfA3P4oUBET7neweVE_JWSR4rHIhqyw/s400/IMG_1117.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OH7OjvniWbs">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OH7OjvniWbs</a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">My baby grand-daughter is just learning how to express her joy and it brings a smile to my face to watch her sing. You can see how she experiments with the sounds she makes as she gaily expresses herself. We sing whenever we are together and of course I think she is a prodigy. Hope her audition will put a smile on your face.</span>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-12712534748624863062010-04-24T16:15:00.000-04:002010-04-24T16:15:58.502-04:00An Hour in DaytonaI probably wasn't being fair to poor Daytona. I did get some interesting photos.<br />
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<span id="goog_1521296400"></span><span id="goog_1521296401"></span>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-89918156525780928422010-04-20T10:46:00.000-04:002010-04-20T10:46:50.131-04:00Mini Beach Vacation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqDh59aDejtsJmKuhUPWEFLKyfMTX4N4dJLVfKpiItGAGdMCJVHAe8F-CBW-XNZhQaZVEuB4ZOuPgr7gdAf7aaqf-yNAmP8BtJE6zn3Rq3zQ2cqEnCq2ypibczgYnUHSjjBg9OKXeyB18/s1600/IMG_1223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjqDh59aDejtsJmKuhUPWEFLKyfMTX4N4dJLVfKpiItGAGdMCJVHAe8F-CBW-XNZhQaZVEuB4ZOuPgr7gdAf7aaqf-yNAmP8BtJE6zn3Rq3zQ2cqEnCq2ypibczgYnUHSjjBg9OKXeyB18/s320/IMG_1223.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWW8nrCSGtYPZJx5VcpJaN5zWJKcuNRftViiUpOVUmNJD_gb6nA3UP7s9LZod-bZ751jE8c-nK6WAPghqsltcMxD8oApS-31UFqRt5BphIVjoi9vNGtJF_x_0NxajviYS4F6TXx7ZkwOs/s1600/IMG_1187.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixWW8nrCSGtYPZJx5VcpJaN5zWJKcuNRftViiUpOVUmNJD_gb6nA3UP7s9LZod-bZ751jE8c-nK6WAPghqsltcMxD8oApS-31UFqRt5BphIVjoi9vNGtJF_x_0NxajviYS4F6TXx7ZkwOs/s320/IMG_1187.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVKR01yhjURh5JQpw5-5J3Zmcg398x70lOFM8Ddg19hnNeD2DUfqWooHJ7SkNkP4TX7lJ_4-TdnmGkoUAVQ7eluR05VJzOpCFiDydgntBEd-bAxOU4_DUNU4C1pjTE2Kk0uvCiBPkP8jyk/s1600/IMG_1177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVKR01yhjURh5JQpw5-5J3Zmcg398x70lOFM8Ddg19hnNeD2DUfqWooHJ7SkNkP4TX7lJ_4-TdnmGkoUAVQ7eluR05VJzOpCFiDydgntBEd-bAxOU4_DUNU4C1pjTE2Kk0uvCiBPkP8jyk/s320/IMG_1177.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Fd0uywxdQem8qArSEZSH-PJTgbWE5k3xABg9uo82hwGGZwJUqfmH-JPnU_cbyMhOXba3DwnMo7LS3a_hFSuMwbX9xLK6F1ehDIFGwQqi8KXTjw6BAQ-NPfBJJ4OP20yOg6a4ewBrQDgB/s1600/IMG_1184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Fd0uywxdQem8qArSEZSH-PJTgbWE5k3xABg9uo82hwGGZwJUqfmH-JPnU_cbyMhOXba3DwnMo7LS3a_hFSuMwbX9xLK6F1ehDIFGwQqi8KXTjw6BAQ-NPfBJJ4OP20yOg6a4ewBrQDgB/s320/IMG_1184.JPG" /></a></div>Just returned from a mini beach vacation to New Smyrna Beach and had a great time of it. You could probably tell that my husband and I were from New Jersey, as the water temp was 70 degrees, which is too cold for most Floridians but warm enough for us as we ventured out into the foamy, choppy sea and paddled ourselves silly in the crashing waves. The first day featured gale force winds and an angry sea so we opted for a nice long walk instead of water-play. The second day was calmer and warmer... the perfect beach day by NJ standards and we wore ourselves out by the end of the day. We managed a short trip to Daytona, but there was really nothing to see there, as the pier was closed for renovations... unless you're into biker bars and big hotels. I did get lots of photos and was thrilled to see a new species of "thing" namely the Portuguese man-o-war which is that blue jellyfish nestled up to the crab in the picture above. They were scattered all over the beach, like inflated balloons with withered legs, and I'm glad I was ignorant to the fact that they sting on contact, or I wouldn't have enjoyed myself so much in the surf!Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-4262660888832975122010-04-12T18:41:00.000-04:002010-04-12T18:41:01.901-04:00Heaven is a Dance Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4RB_P2XeWPUDjaq57RFDbwJ_0fr14JfgIzB3SR8K7gJDiwxtrc5suoTXd2y_uuogfc0yhVc5zHbSFIwd06yq4gQxfmbO6TVBmjE4yd7BXg7e1XLqeKE7RUD8Kj85jmLI3hMoNA3VT7pGT/s1600/DSCN0801.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4RB_P2XeWPUDjaq57RFDbwJ_0fr14JfgIzB3SR8K7gJDiwxtrc5suoTXd2y_uuogfc0yhVc5zHbSFIwd06yq4gQxfmbO6TVBmjE4yd7BXg7e1XLqeKE7RUD8Kj85jmLI3hMoNA3VT7pGT/s320/DSCN0801.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPRPQ-e3Hr8LEZBxxthoKMaxpL3a3ganhlbZM-RUqDeXq3Dj8vKJ0jfWM6eTv80RhppzRp4NHYw8hubIEHeYi5zAP-p-pONGjNDzbZLTSUa6BlLBj1LC3uOQB6T_ItC2cf_FwJu2oV1ZHE/s1600/DSCN0800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPRPQ-e3Hr8LEZBxxthoKMaxpL3a3ganhlbZM-RUqDeXq3Dj8vKJ0jfWM6eTv80RhppzRp4NHYw8hubIEHeYi5zAP-p-pONGjNDzbZLTSUa6BlLBj1LC3uOQB6T_ItC2cf_FwJu2oV1ZHE/s320/DSCN0800.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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My favorite activity (at least the one I can talk about) is dancing, and this weekend I got the invitation of a lifetime. A friend of Gerry's from college who was refound on Facebook, invited us to a five hour dance party on the Lower East Side of Manhattan. I was besides myself in anticipation because except for the occasional wedding there doesn't ever seem to be any clubs around for the 50 and over crowd. Although I don't mind some rap or hip hop, what excites me most is the dance music from my past... punk, disco, new wave, alternative, R&B... I'm not that fussy, as long as it's danceable. Well, we took the train in on Saturday for the party that lasted from 12-5 and I met the most terrific new friends and I got to dance for five hours to the best music from "our era." The music was so good in fact that there was no way that I couldn't dance for the full five hours. The best part was that I actually won the prize of a five hour CD set of the music that was recorded by our host (who is a terrific dancer and also danced almost every song as well)! I think Gerry captured me best in these shots which seem to suggest... get ready, get set, now dance like a maniac... and believe me I did! It was heavenly!Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-66735570959976653842010-04-05T17:11:00.000-04:002010-04-05T17:11:01.997-04:00Ringing Rocks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSD4yoYYR8V40lQNrKAA97prw4d3NGhiWpVcOph0KVJfFPS4BUwVQB8928200DKY5xLoOv53rnk1hA3T4bg5Mqb8qzBu8G9Eg0atusWL3DlQeV-m4__1Plv5QwXMu1Qy08b2HLUPpIoY2m/s1600/IMG_1033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSD4yoYYR8V40lQNrKAA97prw4d3NGhiWpVcOph0KVJfFPS4BUwVQB8928200DKY5xLoOv53rnk1hA3T4bg5Mqb8qzBu8G9Eg0atusWL3DlQeV-m4__1Plv5QwXMu1Qy08b2HLUPpIoY2m/s1600/IMG_1033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a name='more'></a><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSD4yoYYR8V40lQNrKAA97prw4d3NGhiWpVcOph0KVJfFPS4BUwVQB8928200DKY5xLoOv53rnk1hA3T4bg5Mqb8qzBu8G9Eg0atusWL3DlQeV-m4__1Plv5QwXMu1Qy08b2HLUPpIoY2m/s320/IMG_1033.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjck0Le0DbFAbgX8jP4nCQjNALUxJl8LVQe6L6I3-GmmJxyo5KSweMTTmFCYprBXRun_FeToqt7XQabvMoeKFHAwdWeLOAdMCsUx1XkShKgfS4VtUF9OUdnq4CS-dcqErbjZIsFhb68tPsM/s1600/IMG_0955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjck0Le0DbFAbgX8jP4nCQjNALUxJl8LVQe6L6I3-GmmJxyo5KSweMTTmFCYprBXRun_FeToqt7XQabvMoeKFHAwdWeLOAdMCsUx1XkShKgfS4VtUF9OUdnq4CS-dcqErbjZIsFhb68tPsM/s320/IMG_0955.JPG" /></a><br />
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</div>Had a wonderful time this weekend in Bucks County PA at a little place called Ringing Rocks Park. I got the idea to go there from a blog I read from one of my Internet friends. Thanks Lizzie! It was amazing to see a playground of children and adults scattered about a vast swath of rocks, with hammers and mallets beating out ringing rhythms which sounded like cowbells. Certain rocks do really ring when they are stricken with a hard object and it was a fun game to crawl around and find the ringing rocks. I didn't bring a hammer with me because it seemed a little too violent, and yet I was still able to get some nice sounds from the rocks with a small ratchet tool. The climb over the rocks was a bit strenuous and I spied many shy black spiders who skittered away as I approached them to take their pictures, so if you are afraid of spiders this is probably not the place for you. Surrounding the sacred rocks is a forest that has a stream and waterfalls that you can hike to and it is also magically beautiful. I've included a small sample of the sounds I made with my newfound rock group!<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y9rPuQQ2iZI">Wendilea's Rock Band</a>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-88549591473085230352010-04-01T06:57:00.000-04:002010-04-01T06:57:15.186-04:00Betty and Otis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3Etd3bSaghKd-uphAoB2T3jxNnO6ZtJjxpAv84ySQ_g2LchgnhUWLsxVWbC9jagEm82yRfFdAd6LBoxoEgh9wRkuEz6ON3RZhETiDMBUnlei8NBR9XlLrZZGBuTxXROxE7wMt5Pu716u/s1600/IMG_0920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3Etd3bSaghKd-uphAoB2T3jxNnO6ZtJjxpAv84ySQ_g2LchgnhUWLsxVWbC9jagEm82yRfFdAd6LBoxoEgh9wRkuEz6ON3RZhETiDMBUnlei8NBR9XlLrZZGBuTxXROxE7wMt5Pu716u/s200/IMG_0920.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0VTNt81DhyOEgnjxtTfIGOQe62GtTdwL9CNUD5jsNPGU5uFTF4O88Fumi7ZWCKHk8CRMIsP7yRsyA6rPCWhn9RPWseTJahMNjkn2im_cOEksNEHsqRQp2EgN2vhZukUXjvU_ds23M4f7/s1600/IMG_0919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0VTNt81DhyOEgnjxtTfIGOQe62GtTdwL9CNUD5jsNPGU5uFTF4O88Fumi7ZWCKHk8CRMIsP7yRsyA6rPCWhn9RPWseTJahMNjkn2im_cOEksNEHsqRQp2EgN2vhZukUXjvU_ds23M4f7/s320/IMG_0919.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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Poor Otis , my bunny rabbit has been put out of his usual routine this week and is a bit out of sorts. Betty, his slobbery bull dog cousin has been here for a visit while her parents traveled to California on vacation. She is a sweetheart and follows me around wherever I go. For the most part she tries to ignore Otis, as she has learned from the first ninja kick to her head that he doesn't like her much. She is a slow learner though, and either keeps trying to make friends with him, or just wants to get in his face to cause him the utmost in vexation. Usually Otis sits and meditates under the dining room table, but while Betty is around he feels safer lording over her at the top of the stairs. She, however, has been caught more than once sneaking up to Otis's carrot bowl and slobbering over his meal. Perhaps it is spitefulness for the kick received, but Otis was not amused and refused to eat the drooled upon carrots. Otis will try to sneak up behind Betty in a moment of daring, but as soon as she turns her big mug to look at him, he hops away in fright or disgust (it's hard to tell). As long as I am around they mange to stay out of each other's way, occasionally though there is a quick skuffle as Betty lumbers a little too close to Otis and he jumps at her with both paws ready to strike. She in turn barks at him and then there is an uneasy truce as I yell at both of them to behave. I need to give Betty plenty of attention because I can tell from her big sad eyes that she is a bit homesick... she is not eating with the usual bull dog gusto. But at night Gerry and I have to make sure Otis gets his proper attention too, so his jealously doesn't getting taken to extremes (he has already chewed many a moulding, which he only seems to do when he is upset.). As you can see, although he tries to act big and bad, Otis is really a momma's boy... just don't let Betty know.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-70431295430990492622010-03-29T16:22:00.000-04:002010-03-29T16:22:46.383-04:00The Spell is Broken<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumT4qOhjo-5A1ZnkSJUz3NeF8gVWp9_8UN5yqjB_1SMWU10-sU5b60EFYPVa6AA6BvRIeAQvPvIXk0sNOBdYlSmArQIdwcwRNBKAzw2b3oAy6NJPnB-r0pr7eEk8l9ZrOVekf2zlMPgOg/s1600/IMG_0871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumT4qOhjo-5A1ZnkSJUz3NeF8gVWp9_8UN5yqjB_1SMWU10-sU5b60EFYPVa6AA6BvRIeAQvPvIXk0sNOBdYlSmArQIdwcwRNBKAzw2b3oAy6NJPnB-r0pr7eEk8l9ZrOVekf2zlMPgOg/s400/IMG_0871.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />
Well, I have finally received the sign that I have been waiting for. The gazing ball in our front yard mysteriously shattered this weekend. That is the daffy duck in a turban image you see above. And to seal the deal, one of the back porch lights mysteriously shattered last night (though the light did not go out... good thing). You see, we have been patiently waiting to sell our house, buy a Eurovan and take off to see the country for a few years. It has been the worst market to sell a house... even a terrific house like the one we have lived in for the past 13 years. It has given us a lot of joy, but now that the kids are grown and gone, it is just too big and unnecessary. The other day I got really frustrated thinking about our plans that are on hold and I got mad and shouted at the top of my lungs, "I can't stand this house anymore... I just want to go!" Maybe it was the house fairies who finally got the message, or the piskies that live out in the back yard, but somebody heard my yell and I get the feeling that they are taking me seriously now. I'm thankful for all the good times here, but there is another family out there who needs all these rooms and this big old yard. We are putting the house back on the market on Thursday and whoever looks at it will see all the wonderful repairs we did for the next owners (new windows, sealed basement, painting). I think the time has come for us to get those buyers so we can pursue our dream... I will not be replacing the gazing ball... the next owners can do that if they so choose.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-14975285452279168152010-03-25T08:27:00.000-04:002010-03-25T08:27:47.317-04:00A Good Day Planned<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidwvItUyKUZSMTRVZCNVQpk3UWHb_ytxXWHhTFWYG54BpogEVcO-yq0dmkeCdJHBe17_zYVJXD3zLeQRzvypavhLFx2pyUi8D994EW01_sGaG1UghQYKJxojssDxnWFJxjKI71KnmyZzX1/s1600/IMG_0790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidwvItUyKUZSMTRVZCNVQpk3UWHb_ytxXWHhTFWYG54BpogEVcO-yq0dmkeCdJHBe17_zYVJXD3zLeQRzvypavhLFx2pyUi8D994EW01_sGaG1UghQYKJxojssDxnWFJxjKI71KnmyZzX1/s320/IMG_0790.JPG" width="202" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIvQ100b37ajmeVi1ER7VnOMRxi_E-8aqaP68IxJSlcr_GYYSGFnGpKcnTB_q5dQAqrO14ZWnTbye_l6nFm7PUy3b7lTW2zdqdvoBFHYklhzJosJz1wd9urGT062v3aAeyJQdXxSuUexI/s1600/IMG_0715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVIvQ100b37ajmeVi1ER7VnOMRxi_E-8aqaP68IxJSlcr_GYYSGFnGpKcnTB_q5dQAqrO14ZWnTbye_l6nFm7PUy3b7lTW2zdqdvoBFHYklhzJosJz1wd9urGT062v3aAeyJQdXxSuUexI/s320/IMG_0715.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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All is quiet within our house, except for the chewing that Otis my bunny is doing to the old Oxford dictionary in the bookcase. Outside the birds are chirping loudly, the bluejays are actually screaming at the rising sun that is peering in my eastern window. Baby girl is still in her car seat fast asleep, and occasionally I hear I soft little stir from her and although I can't wait for her to wake up so I can kiss her sleepy morning face, I also feel like shhushing the bluejays so the pretty song of the chickadee can be heard. It is going to be a lovely Spring day here and I have the pram (aka carriage) ready for my little grand-daughter. Once the temperature rises a bit, we will go for a long spin around the block in search of signs of spring. Although the pram is old (probably 50+ years old) and a bit scary looking, I line it with clean sheets and I must say it rides smoothly over the sidewalks and cracked pavement. We'll stroll around the neighborhood and I'll point out all the budding trees of interest, the Spring flowers, and the various sounds of the birds. I'm also teaching Annabel sign language as I read that this exercise will help her with vocabulary development. Of course, we will listen to music... opera is on the playlist for today, especially Queen of the Night aria from Mozart's The Magic Flute as baby girl loves to exercise her vocal chords with a high pitched soprano squeal of delight now and again. Oh, guess who just woke up with a big sleepy smile? Gotta go... we have a busy day planned!Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-53412986808526717782010-03-19T17:06:00.000-04:002010-03-19T17:06:34.643-04:00Gratefulness: Filling in the Blanks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKOKhZboNGqulcRGU6uGbhDPqfGk866mJiswDSGn3g6vbTgLwP0apqQkvCANffzN0byB7kqGR8_HREsOXqGUtFEeFO2tsy_7cK3mdBvkeAXD1LR4EwWvX1e36gB65rW3q0jRI3-Mfievy/s1600-h/IMG_0722.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKOKhZboNGqulcRGU6uGbhDPqfGk866mJiswDSGn3g6vbTgLwP0apqQkvCANffzN0byB7kqGR8_HREsOXqGUtFEeFO2tsy_7cK3mdBvkeAXD1LR4EwWvX1e36gB65rW3q0jRI3-Mfievy/s400/IMG_0722.JPG" width="307" /></a></div><br />
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I have a beautiful book that I use to remind me of all the things that I'm grateful for. It's a part of my morning ritual where I choose the first four things that come to mind for that particular day that gives me reason to smile, to be happy, or to feel thankful for. It comes in very handy on those days when I feel lonely, or out of sorts, or just plain blue. I look back at all the entries that have been recorded and like magick, suddenly I don't feel so bad. Some entries are highly personal and directed at specific things or people in my life and some are very general and are probably things other people would share in being grateful for as well. For instance:<br />
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<ul><li>courage in the face of fear</li>
<li>the timely greeting of a budding tree</li>
<li>living abundantly in abundance</li>
<li>new friends and old alike</li>
<li>the gift of imagination</li>
<li>sharing laughter</li>
<li>the grace of the full moon</li>
<li>walking in wonder</li>
<li>team spirit</li>
<li>the quietness of falling snow</li>
<li>a clean bill of health</li>
<li>the love of a pet</li>
</ul><div>You can see how I've managed to complete half of book... when I'm feeling up to it. And when I'm not, I need only to read what was once written and realize that although everything changes, there is always something new and exciting to experience or be grateful for. Sometimes the best way to remember these things is to write them down, lest we forget.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The beautiful picture here is called <i>Moon Maiden</i> by Jean and Ron Henry. and on the back of my book is an extract from <i>Tis moonlight, summer moonlight </i>by Emily Bronte:</div><div><br />
</div><div>'Tis moonlight, summer moonlight</div><div>All soft and still and fair;</div><div>The solemn hour of midnight</div><div>Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere...</div><div><br />
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</div>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-19297187123998407732010-03-16T16:46:00.000-04:002010-03-16T16:46:21.871-04:00A Flood of Memories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbV8AUiku71S5vSQRYk8tarcXWos3IRfIN-LiTG7wtDonCG4-GtHc_Dqf-tZ4_AWyeNGS7_Cyh46UVnXVrgAZDNnhKIuXAfkDbqwXup1bFqdIt8KkZI2Nsv8L1tdU1P0QJVlfthisma3WQ/s1600-h/IMG_0704.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbV8AUiku71S5vSQRYk8tarcXWos3IRfIN-LiTG7wtDonCG4-GtHc_Dqf-tZ4_AWyeNGS7_Cyh46UVnXVrgAZDNnhKIuXAfkDbqwXup1bFqdIt8KkZI2Nsv8L1tdU1P0QJVlfthisma3WQ/s320/IMG_0704.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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After a weekend of rain and some of the worst flooding my town has seen in years, I rode my bike past Mountainview Park... the site of some good old fashioned memories of my childhood. The park playground has since been made safer for children with plastic amusements taking the place of the old metal fort with the pirate chains that I used to climb. There were pitched fingers and scrapes and bruises that were just part of the rough and tumble play ground experience back then. At 10 years old you no longer required the accompaniment of your parents... in fact that was considered uncool to have them hanging around. We were brave little daredevils who would play for hours using only our imaginations and lots of energy. There were territorial battles amongst kids from different neighborhoods... nothing serious, as we all knew who the serial bullies were and our intuition guided us from receiving any unnecessary harm from them. I looked at the current fort with the caution tape around it and wondered who would have waded into the flood waters to put it in place... I mean the only people who would not realize the danger in playing there now would probably not be able to read or understand the word, and a parent would have to be present as kids don't go anywhere without their parents in tow now.<br />
Yes, the world is changing... freedom and a sense of adventure are slowing being replaced by neuroticism and fear... and Nature it seems is just playing along.Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9170656319929311535.post-55350501730577853102010-03-12T16:08:00.009-05:002010-03-12T18:11:56.038-05:00Signs of Spring<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvH8dWGygOFbjfk8e4zd2wf94OrtLoaLW8LA3no7yDSQkgBgvI_lIBc5qTZ-Kv_WZG6-2vgwEnhyphenhyphenAyMnqnV6o-V_tEJxBRWxj33xo3_rhJiSkI6vTAFkwIV073pF1tSUPmAyzpyCIC0DHm/s1600-h/IMG_0666.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvH8dWGygOFbjfk8e4zd2wf94OrtLoaLW8LA3no7yDSQkgBgvI_lIBc5qTZ-Kv_WZG6-2vgwEnhyphenhyphenAyMnqnV6o-V_tEJxBRWxj33xo3_rhJiSkI6vTAFkwIV073pF1tSUPmAyzpyCIC0DHm/s320/IMG_0666.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447887310672511778" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLlvD8QcKNnjwrq4GSPYc5NyK1ve3xeIxsVSOLAOK3TpDgzMPGV1GBXPLlRkpXZAFi5J8angKAAxqJJiEgWqxgkIytOTt7MmmrLkarauDp43b37ofq4OXUVDwdgXmaar2tTkswGFcs1hod/s1600-h/IMG_0486.JPG"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 136px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLlvD8QcKNnjwrq4GSPYc5NyK1ve3xeIxsVSOLAOK3TpDgzMPGV1GBXPLlRkpXZAFi5J8angKAAxqJJiEgWqxgkIytOTt7MmmrLkarauDp43b37ofq4OXUVDwdgXmaar2tTkswGFcs1hod/s200/IMG_0486.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447886088475392850" /></a></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4PyTgFO1_HZ8DaxmSu0UFnPVGC_648y1wqYoXjBnB-BOh_StKw5eacAUemrQj3xWvxi-hO3uk9Ex75wAhl9vPZO6CJO1a_WdLUYjcdpWZ1UkAEbpT_ZLRaCC0n36HqRvBjk-1wv6DMB5J/s1600-h/IMG_0673.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4PyTgFO1_HZ8DaxmSu0UFnPVGC_648y1wqYoXjBnB-BOh_StKw5eacAUemrQj3xWvxi-hO3uk9Ex75wAhl9vPZO6CJO1a_WdLUYjcdpWZ1UkAEbpT_ZLRaCC0n36HqRvBjk-1wv6DMB5J/s200/IMG_0673.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447859245671187714" /></a><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">It's rainy and cold and although there is no use complaining about the weather, I'm really looking forward to Spring's official arrival. Yesterday I heard the sweet trill of the Eastern Meadowlark, which made me stop my bike ride and search in the trees for the the gray and yellow bird. I only saw the blended colors of yellow and gray as the bird flew away... but it made me smile. I've seen numerous robins that travel in packs over the winter, but it's when they pick their nesting territory that they become more solitary and sing as they prepare their nests for those beautiful blue eggs. As for the sparrows, they have been very frisky in the quiet recesses of my front juniper bushes... they will be nesting soon I'm sure of it!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I have also been watching the tips of the daffodils creep up and out of the earth since February and only fretted a little when the last giant snowstorm buried them... they are hardy and will bloom as expected... I have seen it before. I have also monitored the bursting bloom of the little snowdrop flowers that appear even if there is still snow on the ground. They look so fragile but they can withstand the tricky fluctuations of March temperatures. And then there is my one lone crocus that has just bloomed two days ago. I remember planting about 50-60 bulbs several years ago, however the squirrels just love them and they have no remorse as they dig them up and eat them right in front of me. I just know that next year there will be none left (hopefully our house will be sold so I won't miss them).</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The surest sign of Spring for me is this almost undefinable sense of excitement as I begin to envision all those comforting images of buzzing bees on flowers, young green buds sprouting from tree branches, fluffy white clouds wafting over clear blue skies that come after the rains... and that first warm day when outerwear becomes obsolete!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: right;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj80uBy-UkiHAGBtj_sMTxZY7mBVJSMZgrEbzE20MXRtIFhqoHfE0YeWY9CZC1TnNR0V4zD6_AVo0tl9JR7jIOWwB4SwANItwjJuZ_WA68cgEG39nLLqFlu82NOzv2VFx-t-lIyx5_Ms34m/s200/IMG_0669.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447858150430861058" /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div>Wendileahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08434441854457931445noreply@blogger.com