tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-140305288453217462024-03-13T12:49:43.021-07:00WORKING THE EARTHTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.comBlogger663125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-39374787483145861452015-10-03T07:29:00.000-07:002015-10-03T07:29:59.884-07:00FOOD FOR THOUGHTI woke up this morning very early. It is still dark outside but thoughts were rolling through my mind as I lay in bed trying to be quiet and not wake Bill up. I decided to get up and write about some of the thoughts that were rolling around in my brain rather than trying to fall back to sleep. Sometimes some of my best thoughts and dreams come to me just before I open my eyes. I don't know why that is but those thoughts churn around inside me for the rest of the day sometimes. Food for thought?<br />
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When I was growing up, in my teens and early twenties, my generation seemed so totally different than the generation of today. We were living through the Viet Nam war. It was right in front of us each and every day. It was on our televisions, our newscasts, in our schools. I saw protests on the news at UC Berkeley where crowds of young people had come together to join one another protesting the fact that the government was issuing draft notices to our young men. We didn't want them going to war over something that we didn't believe in. We didn't want them dying needlessly. Some of them were so young that they were not legal age to drink or vote, yet they could put a gun in their hands and be trained to kill other human beings. What is so different from then to now? Why are young people (mostly young men if I think about it) picking up guns and killing people in their own cities---theaters, school campuses, freeways, malls---without the least bit of remorse or fear? What is different? What has changed?<br />
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I think about the music that we listened to. We had Cat Stevens singing "Peace Train"<br />
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Now I've been happy lately<br />
Thinking about the good things to come<br />
And I believe it could be<br />
Something good has begun<br />
I've been smiling lately<br />
Dreaming about the world as one<br />
And I believe it could be<br />
Something good's bound to come...<br />
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We had John Lennon singing songs like "Imagine":<br />
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Imagine there's no countries<br />
It isn't hard to do<br />
Nothing to kill or die for<br />
And no religion too<br />
Imagine all the people living life in peace...<br />
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We had Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, The Doors, Jefferson Airplane (now Starship), Country Joe and the Fish, and on and on. These musicians all sang about the war, dying, the draft, and hope and peace. I lived through the Summer of Love. I saw Haight and Ashbury close up. It was contagious, this feeling that we heard and found in our music. We wanted to buck the establishment. We wanted to protest the war. We wanted freedom of speech and freedom of love. Killing was the farthest thing from our mind. We didn't want our loved ones (our boyfriends and our neighbors sons) going off to fight a war we didn't believe in because there was a truth to that. We didn't want our young friends to learn to kill, to learn to die, to never return home again.<br />
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I don't know what the difference is but there is something so wrong with what is happening to our young people now. Is it that they don't have hope for a future? Do they not yearn for a better life and peace and love like we did? When I was 20-something I had dreams of quitting my job, buying some land far away from the city, living in peace among a forest, creating art and poetry, eating healthy, living off the land, building my own home, and on and on. I didn't want to be part of "the establishment" because "the establishment" was equated with everything bad: war, lust, hatred, money, greed, politics. I don't think much has changed in that area to this day. But something has changed in the fact that young men don't feel their lives and the lives of others is of any value.<br />
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I don't know what the answer is/ I wish I did. I wish that when they heard all the songs playing that I grew up with that they would feel the electricity of the lyrics running through their veins like I did--like we did. It gave us hope. It gave us a future to dream about and live for. Most of my dreams came true. I met a man who had the same dreams as I did. We bought land, lived off-grid, built our own home, planted a garden, and worked hard to realize our dreams-come-true. Maybe that is the key: having dreams to live for.<br />
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I do know this: draft notices were being sent out. Young men were afraid. They were afraid of killing and they were especially afraid of dying. They don't seem to have that same fear any longer. They aren't afraid of killing or dying.<br />
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John Lennon had it right when he said "Nothing to kill or die for". We need hope. We need to "Imagine all the people living life in peace".Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-32743813402211222062015-08-12T01:19:00.000-07:002015-08-12T01:19:46.749-07:00FOR YOUR EYES ONLYAugust 12, 2015<br />
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Eyes. They say they are the seat of the soul. Rene' Descartes believed it to be the point of connection between the intellect and the body. He believed that it was a single part in the brain rather than one-half of a pair. What happens to a person when they lose the ability to see from their eyes? I have heard it said that a person's other senses heighten to make up for the loss of another sense. So, will the "third eye" function in that very way? Will it allow a person to "see" in other ways...other spiritual ways perhaps?</div>
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I recently was diagnosed with a rare eye disease called Macular Telangiectasis. I was told by my eye specialist that there isn't much known about it because it is so rare that not many studies have been done. So it seems that there is not much to do in terms of therapy or treatment because of the lack of knowledge regarding this disease. I was told to just take eye vitamins and that it was a slow progressing disease with only 1 in 10 people actually getting to the stage of macular degeneration. But how do you know if you are the "one" or the "ten"? And what do you do each day when you realize that numbers are becoming harder to distinguish and you are not seeing as well as you used to at night?</div>
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I feel at this point a sense of urgency in my life. I feel like I need to see and do everything that I have put off before. Yet, there is the reality associated with the reasons why I haven't done some of those things up to this point in my life. Life seems to have a way with dictating what you really need to do and when. My mother is at a point in her life that she needs more care and so I tend to remain closer to home in case she needs me. It is just "the right thing to do" as a former friend once said to me. Then, there is always the money not being there when you need it to be. Just minor issues really though. I feel as though there are so many things to be thankful for. I do hope that I do not pose a problem to those around me in terms of care. I hope to always remain independent. My Aunt Betty has macular degeneration and she has always been an inspiration to me. She has not allowed her blindness to control her or make her feel like she is a victim. It is hard not to mourn the loss of something that is such an integral part of your body: your ability to see. But I suppose it is not as necessary as one may think.</div>
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I read a passage from the bible (Matthew 6: 22,23) that reads: The lamp of the body is the eye. If, then, your eye is simple, your whole body will be bright; but if your eye is wicked, your whole body will be dark. if in reality the light that is in you is darkness, how great that darkness is." To me, I see this as saying that what is inside of us is of so much more importance. Do we harbor hatred, bitterness, jealousy, etc.? Forgiveness seems to be of utmost importance in this case. And if you can't verbalize that forgiveness or you can't make amends with someone? Does that put you in a place of emptiness and heartache? I am of the feeling that if a person has a genuine feeling of forgiveness inside of them, that is all that matters. It is never to late to send lovely thoughts out to the universe and forgive others for what you do not understand. Isn't that line that the Beatles sang just so true? "All you need is love"!</div>
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Some things I will miss if I happen to lose my eyesight. Gardening, making art, watching the birds eat seed from the feeders, watching a good movie and really appreciating the beauty of the scenery and the artistry with which it is made. Also, seeing my friends faces again. Some friends I haven't seen for over six years now and I'm sure things have really changed for them. But, those things have happened and I already wasn't there to "see" them so I can adjust to that. I was just always in hopes of making amends and seeing each other again. And forgetting all that has transpired in these last six years. I can always hope. And if not, I can still send my thoughts to them no matter what. And...a friend recently told me that I can take up sculpting in clay or some other form of art that I have never explored when I can feel what I am making rather than see it. There are so many ways to adjust. And, if indeed the eyes are the seat of the soul, I think that I will have a better time seeing what is on the inside of me when I am not distracted by what is outside of me.</div>
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Life has a way of working out. And, we are humans. We will always have suffering. But there is always happiness and love on the other side of the coin. Without the suffering, we cannot experience the joy. I think I will always remember what red looks like. I will always be able to feel the yellow of the sun on my skin. I know I will always be able to see the green grass when I smell it being freshly mowed. The green of the pine tree will always be present in my memory when the sun warms the pitch and the wind blows the scent into the house. The Finches will always remain bright yellow at my bird feeder; the hummingbird will always glisten in the sunshine when it buzzes the feeder. </div>
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Certain things will remain the same. Some of them will change. But...as I was told once about six years ago: Change is good. I am open to what may come.</div>
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-5545060340885570782015-03-24T17:54:00.002-07:002015-03-24T17:54:31.088-07:00A PATH WITH HEART<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FZEWYGCGM8c/VRH_YwjCZ9I/AAAAAAAAGEk/pKXYtyUDE0k/s1600/5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-FZEWYGCGM8c/VRH_YwjCZ9I/AAAAAAAAGEk/pKXYtyUDE0k/s1600/5.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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These three girls are sisters. I love the way that each one of them looks like their own person yet there is something in each one's face that makes them all resemble each other...that family resemblance. And their hair colors are all a combination of each other's colors too...a little bit blonde, a little bit red, and somewhere in between. They are there for each other, through thick and thin. That is what sisters do for each other. And it's a wonderful thing.</div>
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A few days before Valentine's Day, the day that is associated with lovers, my friend Tracy lost the love of her life. Tracy is the sister on the far right. She celebrated Valentine's Day without her love of 34 wonderful years. Jeff was the love of her life and it was evident each time I spoke to her or him how much they loved each other. The day this picture was taken in Gig Harbor, Washington, I had driven up for Jeff's memorial service which was held at their wonderful home. Jeff and Tracy had just moved to this home a few short years earlier. They hadn't gotten to fully develop their life-plan I'm sure and things were still in the works. But they had moved in their new home from southern California to be closer to their children and to fulfill a dream that they had for many years. They wanted a small farm and wanted to breed their poodles, raise sheep and chickens, and decorate their home.</div>
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I had never seen their old home in southern California except for photographs but when I stepped inside this home in Gig Harbor I felt the love immediately that Jeff and Tracy displayed to everyone that entered. It was warm and inviting and filled with Blue Willow china, from plates to ginger jars to soup tureens to anything Blue Willow. Jeff and Tracy had a huge collection and she told me that she actually doesn't remember where or when it started but it has been a passion of theirs for their entire marriage. And Jeff was an interior designer who had been featured in quite a few magazines throughout their marriage. He loved pink!!! Who doesn't??</div>
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I know that Tracy has a huge void in her life right now. Many family and friends are doing their best to help fill that void but really, when you lose someone who is your soul mate, nothing can ever really fill the hole that is created when they leave this earth. Tracy has a huge faith. And I know that she will draw upon her faith in times that will no doubt become difficult for her. But she will do her best because she is living her and Jeff's dream now. She is just living it alone. </div>
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She raises Standard Poodles that are beyond compare. We purchased our Bodhi from them when we lost our first Standard Poodle, Misty. We had waited almost a year to make sure the time was right for us to have a new dog in our lives. It is hard to replace a dog that has become a part of the family, like a child. But, we found Blue Willow Standard Poodles on line and researched them and realized from everything that we read that they loved their animals as much as their family. Their animals were part OF their family, raised in the house and loved by them and their children Abigail and Ezra. We knew we had to have one of their poodles and so the friendship began. </div>
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We drove almost 8 hours south and met in an obscure part of town that had a park and it was love at first sight...with Bodhi AND with Tracy and her daughter Abigail. You just know when you meet someone for the first time when there is a connection of "heart". Tracy was that for me. In fact, we were both wearing heart necklaces when we met face-to-face for the first time. And, that was the beginning of our friendship.</div>
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It's a friendship of a different sort really. We don't see each other except on Facebook. We talk on Facebook or via email and sometimes by phone. But when I opened up her front door the afternoon of the memorial and saw her standing there in front of me in her home filled with love, I knew I had made the right choice. The right choice in getting a dog from her and Jeff. The right choice in driving up to Gig Harbor to offer my humble support. The right choice in becoming her friend, in whatever capacity I can offer her. She will always be dear to my heart. I feel like we are kindred spirits and I know that Jeff is watching over her daily and guiding her to complete their dream. He left this earthly plane because something needed to be done. He left room here on earth for whatever needed to be completed by her. It might take her a few years to see the reason why but I know in my heart that she will find out the reason why and when she looks back, she will have fond memories of the people that were there to hold her hand, give her a hug, and support her along the way. She has a new path ahead of her. And I know that her path still holds her heart. </div>
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-65231254985042306122015-02-25T15:07:00.001-08:002015-02-25T15:07:22.005-08:00PLAYING MARBLES<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Having a close relationship doesn't mean you should give up being yourself. In fact, you may get irritated with those you love simply because you need some regular time apart, some breathing space. No two people have all the same interests, and it's not healthy to expect that to be the case. Do you allow and encourage yourself and your partner to pursue your own individual interests? Take some dedicated time for yourself and allow your partner to do the same. You'll have more to offer each other and the world as a result."<br />
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Patricia Spadaro-----Honor Yourself--The inner art of giving and receiving</div>
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-65011231267299645732015-02-20T19:04:00.001-08:002015-02-25T14:48:24.973-08:00ALONG FOR THE RIDEBuddha was along for the ride last year. Strapped in his seat belt, he was safe and sound and ready for whatever might come his way. Life is full of suffering you know. And he has managed to make himself secure in the back seat and is along for the ride.<br />
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Life is like that. We sit down, we strap our seat belts on to keep us safe, and we hit the road in a capsule of steel. It's all fine until one day, unsuspecting, someone swerves into our lane and hits us from another lane. Was there anything I could have done to avoid that, I ask? Could I have seen that coming or swerved out of the way before my car was hit? All this is conjecture, of course. My car was not involved in an accident but how often do we cruise through life thinking that all is fine and good and WHAM...we are blindsided.<br />
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In the last week I have lost two friends very suddenly. Everyone was shocked by both deaths. We were not prepared for what we were to hear. And that's just the way that life is...a mystery. No matter how many seat belts we strap on to ourselves, no matter how braced we are in our "vehicle" (body), we are stunned when someone makes their transition and moves on to another realm. It's all a mystery. No one will ever really know what is on the other side of that door that remains open for just a second and then slams shut.<br />
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I have recently begun to question so many more things than I did when I was in my twenties, thirties, even forties and fifties. This year I turn 65. In some ways it seems like I am ready for what may come and in other ways I think that I have a lot of work to do still. I am striving to move forward, to make amends, to question the unknown and make peace with it. But it is not always dependent on what I choose to do. There is always another party that needs to accept my advances and if unwilling, there is nothing that I can say or do that will ever make any difference. Or so it seems.<br />
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It makes a difference to me. And really, that is all that really matters. I am strapped in, waiting for the long trip ahead, bracing myself for the bumpy ride ahead. I am on the downhill side of life and I know that it is going to be a bumpy ride! I might hit a few potholes along the way but if I brace myself, I will bounce right out and land safely. I might need a new tire or two or a new shock absorber (believe me...I could have used that shock absorber this week!)...maybe even a new horn to help me voice my opinion, a new set of windshield wipers to help me see the road ahead clearly...but I am strapped in and like Buddha...along for the ride.<br />
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I think that as long as I keep my options open for whatever I might find on this journey that I cannot help but end up safe and sound. And when that door opens and slams shut once I am through it, I will be prepared for the next journey that awaits me. Just like my friends Jeff and Joann.<br />
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May they make the journey with their eyes open and their hearts full. Their journey has just begun.Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-68687668702416051412015-01-01T23:09:00.001-08:002015-01-01T23:09:33.734-08:00New Year's Day readingToday, I met a group of people at the Auburn Library outside in 37 degree weather to re-dedicate the Peace Pole that was installed approximately 14 years ago. Each year, this group meets and reads something that is representative of the diversity of our planet inhabitants and their belief systems. Sometimes we read something from the Jewish beliefs, the American Indian, the Buddhist, and many others. Today, I read the Humanist Invocation and it reads as follows:<br />
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"Let us rise each morning, and strive each day, to do only that which brings happiness and joy to others, and let us avoid doing things that cause others hurt and pain.<br />
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Let us use our minds and our reason to encourage behavior based on the mutuality and reciprocity inherent in human relationships, and let us always respect the dignity and worth of each other.<br />
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And let us, above all, love one another, not to obtain rewards for ourselves now or hereafter or to avoid punishment, but rather always to bring each other contentment and peace. May it always be so."<br />
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What a great tradition this is for me. I love waking up on the first day of a new year and knowing that I will affirm my belief along with a few other people, for a vision of world peace. Each years brings such tragedy and sadness but each new year brings along with it the possibility of something different arising from the beliefs of brave souls who choose not to perpetuate anger and hatred but only love.<br />
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I wish you all peace and happiness and the possibilities of finding peace within yourselves for others and being able to pass those feelings on to others. Forgive others from their trespasses, forget the anger and resentment, forget what it was that you stopped speaking to someone that meant the world to you. Is it really worth all the effort it takes to suppress the love that really wants to rise to the surface? Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-83813977778634799862014-12-19T18:46:00.001-08:002014-12-19T18:46:56.922-08:00 JUST A FEW THOUGHTS TODAY...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have been following a wonderful blog for almost the better part of a year now written by Rebecca Sweet. Rebecca's blog "<a href="http://www.harmonyinthegarden.com/">Harmony in the Garden</a>" is an incredible place to visit when you are wanting some inspiration, when you feel down and want to be uplifted, or just if you want to see what other people are doing in their gardens that might be new and exciting. Or just plain beautiful.<br />
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Today, Rebecca posted a give-away but first she talked about what she has been grateful for this year. Gratefulness is a wonderful practice to follow each day but Rebecca has even more to be thankful for of late because she was diagnosed with breast cancer and is undergoing treatment. She asked anyone who wanted to be entered in the give-away to post something that they were grateful for or that had made a great impact on them this year. I wrote about how finding her blog has really inspired me and not just because she posts the most incredible photos of gardens (she writes for Sunset magazine) but because of her story and her lust for life. She truly is an inspiration and a reason to never give up no matter what life throws in your way. She makes me happy; she reminds me to live for the moment and to enjoy even the small details for in the small details we will most often find the big moments.<br />
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You've heard me talk about friends that I no longer see who were friends for over 40 years. There really is no explanation for the silence (now going on 6 years) but one thing I can say is that it has helped me look at myself more deeply and to be in touch with what makes me tick. "When one is out of touch with oneself, one cannot touch others." Ann Morrow Lindbergh Bill and I were talking about moving out of state and one of his concerns is that we would be far away from our children and grandchildren and that "we wouldn't know anyone." My reply to him was "I have met more people in the last three years since we moved from our home of 37 years than I have in the entire time of living there." True...we seem to attract what we need in our lives. I have learned that in these last six years. It is like cleaning house: you get rid of the old clutter around you so that you can make room for new friends and opportunities. If I could ever speak to these women I would thank them for forcing me to look at myself deeply and to allow me to clear myself of their energy so that I could rebuild myself.<br />
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Reading a new book titled "Honor Yourself--The Inner Art of Giving and Receiving" by Patricia Spadaro she writes this: "When an ending comes, you may be tempted to greet it with regret, bitterness, or blame. Instead, face it with the certain knowledge that, for some reason, you need to turn off the road you are traveling on and take another route. Don't look back or hang your head as if you did something wrong or are being punished. Expect that your new adventure will, in its own time, reveal its reward and that this change is ultimately for your benefit. Make your new choices based on those truths and you will be honoring who you are and who you are to become." Page 127 My feelings exactly! She goes on to say that perhaps what bothers us most is that we are not in control of how and when those endings come.<br />
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My lost friend once said to me that "change is good". I had no idea she was talking about our friendship but thought she was talking to me about the possibility of selling our house and moving. Little did I know how true her statement would come to be. Change IS good. Really good. And reading Rebecca's blog today gave me that boost I needed at this time of the year when I become melancholic. The days are becoming shorter, the skies are grey for days on end, the flowers and trees have gone dormant but Rebecca gave me hope that Spring shall come. Do yourself and favor and check out her blog and her postings. I think you will become an avid reader and see what she sees each day. She doesn't give up. She keeps planning her garden. She has hope. And hope is so important.<br />
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"Insist on yourself: never imitate...<br />
Do that which is assigned to you, and you<br />
cannot hope too much or dare too much."<br />
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Ralph Waldo EmersonTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-16568148350517534282014-11-27T13:04:00.001-08:002014-11-27T13:04:19.301-08:00THANKSGIVINGLast night we went to a service at my spiritual resource center to celebrate Thanksgiving. I was asked to read one of six "prayers", each representing a different faith or belief. I was given the Jewish prayer to read and since I feel that my family's roots go back to Jewish beliefs, I felt honored to read this "prayer". I am sharing because it really spoke to me. Of course, I don't believe in accidents, so this was exactly what I needed to hear.<br />
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A Thanksgiving Prayer by Rabbi Maralee Gordon<br />
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In this moment, mindful of our many blessings,<br />
may we form an intent to carry gratitude with us continually.<br />
May we leave fear and jealousy by the wayside,<br />
making room in our hearts for contentment, satisfaction and compassion.<br />
May we start each day counting our blessings:<br />
the blessing of being alive,<br />
the many miracles of the living world we are one with,<br />
the ability we possess to love and be loved,<br />
the many gifts and talents we have been graced with,<br />
the support we are able to extend.<br />
May our gratitude lead to action:<br />
May we express our gratitude.<br />
May we smile when we encounter each other on the path,<br />
may we seek opportunities to share our talents with others,<br />
may we express our love to one another,<br />
may we give with no expectation of receiving.<br />
May we seek to repair what is broken.<br />
May we end each day counting the day's blessings,<br />
those we have received and those we have bestowed.<br />
May we be a blessing.Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-48075176143983334982014-11-04T07:50:00.000-08:002014-11-04T07:50:45.259-08:00NOVEMBER<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I woke up this morning thinking about the month of November and how it makes me feel.</div>
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Sadness was the dominating feeling that came to my mind. There has been so much loss in my life and I suppose that is natural, being 64 years of age. You kind of have to expect that you are not going to get through life unscathed. No one does. It is part of the process we call life...the school of life.</div>
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When I try to analyze why I woke up thinking about November and people that I have lost, I realize that it was my discussion with my mother late last night that brought this to the surface. My Aunt Barbara is not expected to live much longer and her birthday is this Thursday, November 6th. But there is more to this that meets the eye. November has deeper sadness that still, to this day, resonates within me. The loss of my father at the young age of seven.</div>
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I always feel that I have worked through the loss of my father but it still it tends to bubble up from time to time, making me question myself and if I have resolved the issue of his death still. For so many years I was disoriented because of my loss. I didn't understand the "why" of his death or even "how". But over the years I have worked it out in my mind and realize now that it was a process.</div>
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I am currently reading a book called "Finding Yourself in Transition" by Robert Brumet and he defines the ending experience quite well. He says there are four questions that frame our sense of reality. They are:</div>
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<li>Who am I?</li>
<li>What is real?</li>
<li>What is my life about?</li>
<li>What is my place in the world?</li>
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He says there are four stages that we must honor as part of the transition period and they are <i>disengagement, disidentification, disenchantment, and disorientation.</i> "Each of these aspects of the ending experience needs to be honored as an essential element of the transition process. There is no single "right way" to do this. It is important that we be aware of all our responses to an ending and allow ourselves to fully experience each stage of the process. As with any transformational process, we don't make it happen; we can only allow it to happen through us."</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSXpHkRBd-4/VFjlsnFaBfI/AAAAAAAAF94/epqz4LOvLv0/s1600/Mary%2BAnn%2B1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mSXpHkRBd-4/VFjlsnFaBfI/AAAAAAAAF94/epqz4LOvLv0/s1600/Mary%2BAnn%2B1.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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In November of 2009 I had just finished treatment for thyroid cancer. That in itself was a great loss having spent a few nights in the hospital with acute renal failure and questioning the four questions that framed my reality: Who was I? What was real? What was my life about? and What was my place in the world? I had no idea at the time that my friend of almost 40 years would decide to never speak to me again either. It has been almost 6 years since we have talked or seen each other. I have had to look at it as though she died in order to make any sense out of it because if I tried to answer the "why" or the "how" this happened I had no answer. The answer is inside of her. And I am not privy to that answer and most likely will never have the answer either. And that same year her mother, a very dear friend to me most of my adult life, passed away on November 18...the day after her anniversary</div>
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November 17th is her anniversary to her husband. They met each other through my husband and myself back in the 70's and were married in the late 70's also. They had two children and I suppose have some grandchildren now too. All collateral losses. But again...part of life. </div>
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Robert Brumet says that not only is grief a symptom of being wounded but it "is a part of the very process by which we are healed." "When we allow ourselves to grieve fully our loss rather than avoiding its lesson by seeking another external mirror, we are reclaiming the natural self.." (p.54)</div>
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Transition is a process. Just like the seasons and how they change, our lives change in the same way. We have many moments in our lives to experience change. "Pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding." (Kahlil Gibran) I suppose if I were really honest with myself, I would know deep within me that great things have come to me through the pain I perceived at the time of my loss. I have gone on to marry, have wonderful children and grandchildren, moved from my home of 37 years (a sense of loss and transition in itself yet somehow wonderful and free), plant new gardens, make new art in a new studio, and on and on. Life is full of changes and it's important how we handle them. Go through the process of loss, of grieving, of learning and moving on.</div>
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I suppose what I really want to say is "thank you"....thank you to my father, to my friend, to my Aunt, to everyone whom I have lost in my life...in the month of November especially. I can now see that there is beauty in the loss and I can also see that Spring shall come. It won't always be November. </div>
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Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-80895798746491456852014-10-21T19:30:00.001-07:002014-11-04T07:52:21.676-08:00SHADOW PLAY AT THE PARK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The essence of excitement is <i>enthusiasm--</i>whose root meaning is quite profound: "moved by something extraordinary, even divine."</div>
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Today, I was moved by the play of shadows on every-day things I saw as I walked in the park. The shadow play on these things thrilled me and got me excited. </div>
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Take a stand for a life that's got some juiciness in it!!</div>
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(excerpted from "just ONE thing" by Rick Hanson, PhD)</div>
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SHADOWS</div>
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Acorn on table..a meal perhaps?</div>
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Two acorns oppose, each in their tracks.</div>
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What was once up is down...a tree nonetheless?</div>
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Which leaf do I pick up, which leaf is the best?</div>
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This tractor is silent while sun starts to flee.</div>
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A bench? A table? Which do you see?</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qBdo1WjWTmA/VEcKesi9HDI/AAAAAAAAF8k/fd9C9KGrY50/s1600/photo%2B(20).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qBdo1WjWTmA/VEcKesi9HDI/AAAAAAAAF8k/fd9C9KGrY50/s1600/photo%2B(20).JPG" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
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A shadow, a sign, waiting for me.</div>
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The fence in the shadows still keeps me at bay.</div>
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The shadow of bench allows me to stay.</div>
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<br />Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-76359231144732276432014-08-26T23:03:00.002-07:002014-08-26T23:03:43.835-07:00Noise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xKQeYpNPWvM/U_10Sz5pcCI/AAAAAAAAF4I/UHFjnkRWKcU/s1600/IMG_7124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xKQeYpNPWvM/U_10Sz5pcCI/AAAAAAAAF4I/UHFjnkRWKcU/s1600/IMG_7124.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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"All the noise in my brain. I clamp it to the page so it will be still."</div>
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The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver---page 532</div>
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-75205292698850417372014-07-31T23:26:00.000-07:002014-08-26T23:04:47.566-07:00Garden Greens<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"The eyes in the trees open onto my dreams. In daylight they watch my crooked hands while I scratch the soil in my little damp garden. What do you want from me? When I raise up my crazy old eyes and talk to myself, what do you want me to tell you?"</div>
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The Poisowood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver</div>
<br />Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-73315729141711961482014-05-08T08:57:00.000-07:002014-05-08T08:57:17.647-07:00EVERYBODY NEEDS A ROCK<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The other day I was browsing the used book store as I sometimes do, in search of a few "gems". There are always great books to be found there and the space is filled with books, all categorized in terms of their topic. In the children's book room I found two or three great little books for my granddaughters but also one for me. It is titled "Everybody Needs a Rock" by Byrd Baylor with pictures by Peter Parnall. What a great book. Simple. Very few pages (less than 20 I would say) and not much to the pictures that are hand-drawn in terms of color but the content is superb! </div>
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I have been a "rock hound" since I was a young girl. I used to have a great rock collection with each rock in its own compartment, categorized by type, when I started my collection. Over the years I would add to it but when I left home at 18 it was one of those things that got left behind in my locker in the garage. I always knew it would be there waiting for me if and when I wanted to pick it up but then one year my parents decided to move and it, along with many other items that I felt were valuable, got tossed in the garbage during the move. I was devastated, to say the least. It takes YEARS to put together a good rock collection!</div>
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I have "collected" rocks ever since but not rocks that are semi-precious stones or valued. I have collected rocks that "speak" to me along the way. The criteria is always the same: they have to be a special shape or color or come from a place that I want to remember. You know...SPECIAL!</div>
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Byrd Baylor says in her book: "If somebody says, 'what's so special about that rock?' don't even tell them...Nobody is supposed to know what's special about another person's rock." </div>
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She has ten rules she uses for finding a rock. Rule Number 9 I really like.</div>
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<u>RULE NUMBER 9</u></div>
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"Always sniff a rock. Rocks have their own smells. Some kids can tell by sniffing whether a rock came from the middle of the earth or from an ocean or from a mountain where wind and sun touched it every day for a million years. </div>
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You'll find out that grown-ups can't tell these things. Too bad for them. They just can't smell as well as kids can."</div>
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I guess I am still a kid-at-heart since I still sniff my rocks. I hold my rocks, rub my rocks, sometimes dip them in water to see the color and if I don't have any water to dip them into...well then...I have been known to even LICK a rock on occasion. Or spit on it! </div>
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I love to collect heart-shaped rocks and I know many people who do too. They don't have to be perfectly-shaped hearts either. They can be a little bit wonky, abstract hearts. Just as long as they remind me of a heart, that is all that is important really. But heart-shaped rocks are not my only criteria either. </div>
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I also like to collect perfectly round rocks that look like balls. And then I like to collect elongated rocks of all different sizes. I have a collection of rocks that look like faces, rocks that sparkle, rocks that look like skulls. And it's funny how these rocks find me. I might just be carrying the garbage out one day and happen to look down to see a face staring back at me in a rock. I have to pick it up, examine it, and if it is "special" it finds a place in my collection here at home. I actually think that I have rocks in almost every room (inside and outside) in my home. It's just something that has to be.</div>
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"I've seen a lizard pick one rock out of a desert full of rocks and go sit there alone. I've seen a snail pass up twenty rocks and spend all day getting to the one it wanted. </div>
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You have to make up your own mind. You'll <i>know." </i> Byrd Baylor</div>
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Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-75678243942339052972014-04-16T08:41:00.000-07:002014-04-16T08:41:18.844-07:00SPRING...FORWARD!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Spring for me has always been a time of new beginnings. When I hear the saying "Spring forward" when it is time to change our clocks, I often don't think of it in the traditional way but in a way that separates the two words.</div>
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FORWARD.</div>
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Forward thinking, forward march. To or toward what is ahead or in front.</div>
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Send to a new address.</div>
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Yes...FORWARD!!!</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nJLV9azG74M/U06bbjLbDtI/AAAAAAAAFzo/DYw5-vRA498/s1600/2014_04_13_IMG_2452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nJLV9azG74M/U06bbjLbDtI/AAAAAAAAFzo/DYw5-vRA498/s1600/2014_04_13_IMG_2452.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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When I moved to this new home almost 3 years ago, I brought over a portion of almost every plant that was in my yard at the time. It was important to me because each flower represented a person, a place, or a thing. Each had its own quality that made it special to me and reminded me of something. The rose (above) was one that I took from my grandmother's home when she passed away. I babied it along for many years and each year it hasn't ceased to amaze me. Not so much the color but the scent. The scent is amazing and when I bend down to sniff it, it is my Grandmother...right there in that moment.</div>
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This year my daughters surprised me with a kinetic sculpture for my garden. My birthday is next week and true to form, they picked something that would inspire me each day and remind me of them. I love sitting in my dining room or looking out the window in my bedroom and seeing it spin in the gentle breeze. It is a gift for my new home that really makes me happy.</div>
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The iris in my garden started out from rhizomes that my grandmother gave to me years ago. They were easy to bring over to our new house because I didn't have to worry much about them wilting in the hot sun while I was busy moving furniture in the house. They sat patiently in one-gallon pots, devoid of any flowers at the time but still waiting, to be planted. The one above was the first iris that my grandmother had ever given to me and it is always the first to bloom every year.</div>
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I love taking a walk out in the garden every morning and seeing what gift will be there waiting for me. Every day there is a new color. And each year I continue to add to the collection that I have. The iris' are only in bloom for a very short amount of time here. Usually by the time May comes around, they have finished their spectacular show. Then it is time for maintenance...trimming, digging, re-planting. It is always a labor of love for me. I'm moving them...forward...to another location. Taking them and passing them on to someone else that can enjoy them as much as I do.</div>
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Plants are like that to me: gifts. They are from someone and to someone. And each flower, each scent that I walk past each day, reminds me of the person that gave it to me. The lilac bush (above) was given to me by my friend Candy when I moved here almost 3 years ago. This year the blooms are magnificent and full. And this variety will bloom twice in one year...not just the typical Spring bloom that I am used to having. Ah....April! </div>
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A month that has both my birthday, my husband's birthday, and my first-born twin named after. We always knew that one of our daughters would be named April but at the time didn't know if there were going to be two girls, two boys, or one of each. I was lucky and had two girls. Two girls who are so precious and special. Who are considerate and thoughtful. What better gift in the month of December could a mother ask for than two daughters. Vestiges of the Spring before.</div>
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And I would be remiss by not mentioning these two wonderful people...now both gone yet still loved so very much by so many. Theodora (Peggy) was my friend's Vicki's mother. To me she was known as Agnes. (Another story for another time). She was a good friend to me in that she shared her family with me as though they were my own. I spent so much time there growing up because my home life was not the best. But Peggy (Agnes) was always there for me, treating me like her own. If Vickie (her daughter) was punished, so was I. If there was to be silence at the dinner table, I had to obey also. But along with the structure came much laughing and fun. Many weekends were spent water skiing, riding in convertibles, eating fried chicken and potato salad, lying in the sun, and making Peggy margaritas. Oh...those days are forever burned into my memory and will always be fondly thought of.</div>
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Her granddaughter Lindsay (seen above with her) has also passed away. I didn't get to know Lindsay very well because we had moved away. But I would imagine that she was the light of Peggy's eye. Lindsay was born on April 17th years after her sister Heather was born on April 26th. Lindsay now has a star named after her in the sky. I know that Peggy and her are together this April. They have moved toward something else...have gone to a new address. They have Sprung Forward and have paved the way for the rest of us. Life is like that: we live, we die. There is no other alternative. But for me, remembering the sweetness of the April flowers is oh, so important.</div>
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-32147788335113514262014-03-21T18:48:00.000-07:002014-03-21T18:49:19.336-07:00TODAY<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What is it about shadows? I see them everywhere, as most everyone else does too, but some days they stand out much more in my mind's eye than other days. This shadow of the oak tree in my backyard is one example that really spoke to me. I must say...I see things in these shadows and I am not sure if it is because I can feel my eyesight getting slightly worse than I seem to be relishing the things that I see even more. I want to embrace everything that is out there for me to view before it is too late.</div>
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It might not be too late either. Things might miraculously change and one day I will open my eyes to see things the way that I used to see things: nice and clear. At the present moment it appears as though I am looking through a bubble...some of the words run together and some are missing altogether directly in the middle of the word. Some days I notice it, some days I don't. I think that I am just trying to "will" it away because it seems that the ophthalmologist says that it is brought on my the stress hormone cortisol. And heaven knows that I have had my fair share of stress in the last year. Yes...</div>
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it kind of looks like this. There are waves and distortions in the middle of my field of vision. I am trying not to focus on it in a negative way but trying to make the best of a somewhat difficult situation.</div>
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I started working on a canvas about my eye and what I am thinking about. It has many meanings and still, because I am such a visual person, the eye is very important to the piece. I have been working on a series of art pieces monthly that the topic has been "The I" or "The Ego" and then the play-on-words "eye" definition seems to come "full focus" (no pun intended) because perhaps I need to be focusing outside myself much more than I am. I should be thinking of others more and not be so self-centered. </div>
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The title of this piece is "Cross my Heart..." Remember that old saying that we said when we were promising someone something? Remember what the consequences would be if you told a lie or didn't keep that promise? Well...that needle has many purposes in this painting. I am still working them out; still reflecting and building layers. It is a process as most of you know. But, meaningful and that is what counts. Working through the process; trying to resolve the issues; trying to forgive and move on; trying to remove my Ego from the middle.</div>
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'Time is the horizontal dimension of life, the surface layer of reality. Then there is the vertical dimension of depth, accessible to you only through the portal of the present moment. So instead of adding time to yourself, remove time. The elimination of time from your consciousness is the elimination of ego. It is the only true spiritual practice." (excerpted from Eckhart Tolle)</div>
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-80056278121877932202014-03-20T22:09:00.002-07:002014-03-20T22:09:57.343-07:00TOMORROW...Tomorrow...I will start posting to my blog again. I need to do it for me...to ve creative again...to fet out of my head and into the world again. Tomorrow begins anew.Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-59352052714016630662014-02-04T16:28:00.003-08:002014-02-04T16:28:38.867-08:00Oh my! I just looked at the date of my last post and it was December. Here it is already February and I am again wondering where all the time has gone. Is it possible that I might have fallen asleep and just now opened my eyes to find an entire month has gone by?<br />
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It was a busy January, that's for sure. We had unseasonably warm weather almost the entire month. So warm that we are now in an official drought status, declared by the Governor of California. We drove up to tour the HGTV home which is located in Truckee, California and traveling over the summit which is usually covered with feet of snow, we arrived to find mostly rocks with small patches of snow only in the absolute shady spots. It was really frightening! And it really hasn't gotten much better yet. I'm afraid to think of what summer will be like here in our state when the heat arrives.<br />
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Last week we visited the Monks who are visiting here from the Gaden Shartse Monastery in India. What an incredible time we had seeing them create the Mandala, perform healing ceremonies, sweeping the sands of the completed Mandala away at the end of their time here and depositing them in Deer Creek, a local creek in the town of Nevada City. The Mandala has healing properties. It is the Medicine Buddha that is depicted in the Mandala. The Medicine Buddha is the Supreme Healer in Tibetan medicine, available for liberating the individual from suffering and is an exemplary metaphor for the mystical elements which are universally inherent in the holistic healing tradition.<br />
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The beginnings of the Medicine Buddha Mandala</div>
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Blessings in Nevada City at the Maidu Cedar Monument</div>
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The sand from the Mandala is being placed into Deer Creek by the monks.</div>
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Ven Geshe Lharampa Jampa Phelgya and Don Ryberg...Tribal council chairman of the Tsi-Akim Maidu Tribe</div>
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I'm really glad that I finally woke up just in time to be immersed in the time I had with the monks. And as we drove away from Nevada City that morning, sands being placed into Deer Creek...it began to rain. Thank you monks for blessing the environment and me with your presence.</div>
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-77339310349585474832013-12-28T07:09:00.002-08:002013-12-28T07:09:52.317-08:00IT'S MY LIFE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's December 27th. There are not too many days left of the old year and a new year begins with a fresh start. I love the thought of the "fresh start"...that feeling that comes over me the day after Christmas and I want to clean the house of all the Christmas decorations and push the sofa out away from the wall, scrubbing beneath what has to have been a month's worth of dust that has accumulated underneath.<br />
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I was just sitting in my recliner thinking about how reticent I have been to write anything on my blog for such a long time. I seem to fall into that category of "too busy" most days but then when I think about "too busy with what" it makes me wonder: what is important to me and why do I set things aside that I am really interested in?<br />
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Last year my Uncle Cy passed away and left me a small amount of money. I had always said that if he did, I would purchase a building for myself that I could call my studio and I would have a private place to create art and just "be". Well, the studio has been set up at the far end of the backyard but much to my dismay I haven't found the time to get out there as often as I would like. I guess I have writer's block but in a more generalized way. It feels more like a time block.<br />
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Lately, I have found time to read a new Stephen King novel, attend some art classes at a local facility, and I even had some time to do some pre-holiday baking. I didn't feel rushed either. But I didn't find the time to sit here at my computer and write a post to my blog. And I really don't know why. Is it truly writer's block or is there something more profound to the reason why I don't take the time to write?<br />
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The older I get the more selfish I seem to be with my time. I look at my mother who is twenty years older than me and I think how close she has come to the end of her life this past year. She has been in the hospital four times in 2013 and each time took her a little farther down. It takes longer to come back when you are in your eighties. "Bouncing back" doesn't seem to be an option. "Holding your own" is even quite difficult. Perhaps settling for just being here and alive is enough. She doesn't seem to want to learn anything new. She balks at the idea of traveling any longer (too afraid to get on a plane she says). "What have you got to lose?" I think to myself.<br />
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Life is a stange gift. When you are young you think that you will live forever and then before you know it, you look back and twenty, thirty, forty years have passed. Before you know it your options have dwindled down to less. Before you know it you don't have the time that you thought you did and you had better get doing all those things you set aside when you were young and had plenty of time.<br />
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Time...what a strange word or concept that is. Can I equate time with life? If I have "enough time" does that give me "more life"? Time seems to be a word that was made up to help people understand their limits. There are twenty-four hours in a day so we divide it all up into seconds, minutes and hours so that we can fit enough of what we need to accomplish into those divisions. But life? How do I justify spending my life, my gift? How do I reconcile what I want to do each day, each hour, each second of what I have every day that I wake up and I'm given another "day" (and night)?<br />
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I'm thinking that each day that I wake up has to be a fresh new day...a fresh start. I need to wake up with enthusiasm and zeal and ask myself "what do I want to accomplish this day" It doesn't have to be a huge accomplishment. Reading a book all day could be enough. Or relaxing on the front porch with a cup of coffee in my hand, listening to the birds. Or perhaps I would like to learn a new word or create a piece of art. Or do absolutely nothing but realize while doing "nothing" that I am actually doing "something". Something so simple, so special as making a choice. That's really what it all comes down to for me. Choice.<br />
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Choice shouldn't be something that is dictated by someone else...only me. After all: it is MY choice, isn't it? How I choose to live each day, how I choose to spend my time, how I choose to live my life...they are all personal. And all personal choices. Each one is a gift. Each one is a FRESH NEW START.<br />
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I choose life.Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-15182183794746572252013-09-03T23:09:00.001-07:002013-09-03T23:09:40.062-07:00I'M JUST WONDERING....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What in the heck is a Puppet Rodeo? Should I Google it and see if it really exists? Hmmmm...<br />
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I just might!</div>
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This vehicle sits down in Newcastle, California behind a chain-link fence how but suprisingly enough, when I did Google it, I got a few hits for the exact same vehicle. It seems that I am not the only one who has been curious about it.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-STT7K5u0EA8/UibNHqBbcOI/AAAAAAAAFu4/O97fsxpM7ck/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-STT7K5u0EA8/UibNHqBbcOI/AAAAAAAAFu4/O97fsxpM7ck/s400/5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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These are a couple of images that I found when I Googled "Levi's Puppet Rodeo". It seems that it was a real hit in 1939 at the Treasure Island Fair in San Francisco.</div>
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And there is proof !</div>
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The license plate says: California World's Fair 39</div>
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What an incredible amount of history sits right down the road from me, not more than 15 minutes away. And all this time I just thought it was a unique-looking vehicle, stopped to take a few photos of it one afternoon, and it lead me to do this research on it. I'm sure there is more to find out. </div>
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Has anyone ever seen anything like this before? So unusual and unique, at least it seems unique. But maybe there were more than one of them. Or not!</div>
Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-5010133393845252592013-08-31T22:31:00.000-07:002013-08-31T22:31:34.311-07:00PORTAL<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm not sure what I actually see in this photo. When I look out my living room window, I see this grouping of trees but there, in the distance, is this oak tree that has formed this weird, circular area in the very middle of it. It seems odd to me...not just that there is something missing in the center but that for some reason, the entire center has formed this perfect circle...a portal of sorts. But to where exactly? And why? And do I actually <i>see</i> it...this "empty" space or are my eyes fooling me? After all...I realize that we each can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different. Everything is up to personal interpretation.<br />
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And then there is the recent problem with my eyesight that plagues me. I have had diabetes for awhile now and even though I take very good care of myself and exercise and eat properly, there is always that nagging thought in the back of my mind "that some day I might lose my eyesight". I have seen it happen to other people that I know who are diabetics and it is not an easy thing to have happen to you, especially when you consider yourself an artist and need your eyes for so many things. We all need our eyes but it seems like a cruel joke for an artist to lose eyesight. Or a gardener who loves to pull weeds!!<br />
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I first noticed that there was something wrong with my eye a few months ago but I passed it off as just some blurry vision or dry eyes. I even thought that maybe I just needed a new prescription in my glasses. Maybe that was all it was. But then one day while driving up the freeway, I noticed that if I shut my left eye and just used my right eye exclusively, the entire fast lane of the freeway disappeared, including the cars that were there if I opened up my left eye. Back and forth, open and close, until I was sure that there was some "blank spot" in my vision. A scary thought, to be sure. I thought I might be experiencing macular degeneration or something more serious. So, I made an appointment with a specialist and he diagnosed me with a condition called Common Serous Retinopathy, which is basically a water bubble in my retina and it is brought on by stress produced from the hormone cortisol....you know...that nasty hormone that makes your mid-section larger.<br />
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So, I have been slowly trying to eliminate stress in my life but it seems like it just keeps following me around. I can't seem to leave it in the background unfortunately. My Mom has been in the hospital two times in the last couple of months and she continues to lose weight and require more care than she did previously. What is that term...the Sandwich Generation? That's exactly where I seem to be at the present time...caught between...in the middle.<br />
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But...to get back to my "portal". I imagine, when I look at this, that it is a place that I can go or that something else can come through. And that it was sent here just for me to use. I have never seen anything like this before anywhere that I have been. I used to lay in my claw-foot bathtub in my previous home and stare out at the trees and I always saw a myriad of things in those trees. There were faces looking back at me. I saw complete heads and American Indian headdresses. Men with long hair and beards. I even started taking my sketch pad in the bathtub with me so that when the faces "appeared" as I gazed out the window, that I could just pick up my pencil and jot down what I saw. And always they appeared in exactly the same place every time. Sometimes when the seasons would change the faces would take on a different appearance because the leaves would fall off. But I could always make out some sort of picture from what was in my vision of the trees outside my window.<br />
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I wonder if other people have this happen to them when they gaze outside their windows? When I was in high school I used to lay outside on the lawn or on the deck and see faces or animals in the clouds. Lots of people have done this, I'm sure. I also used to concentrate on breaking up the clouds that would appear in the sky. I would focus on a single cloud as it was travelling in the sky and I would squint my eyes and think to myself "dissolve" and invariably the cloud would totally disappear. Now, maybe it was going to dissipate <i>anyway</i> but it felt exciting to think that I just <i>might</i> have the power to blast a cloud into thin air. You know what they say don't you? <i>THE POSSIBILITIESARE ENDLESS!</i><br />
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And so...each day when I sit in my recliner in the living room and I'm facing the window with the view of the trees, I imagine the possibilities of the places I could travel if I stepped into the portal and transported to another realm. On the other side I could be anyone I wanted to be. I could be any place that I wanted to be. I could time travel to another galaxy if I wanted. Most days I am happy to just dream about where I would like to be. But some days I close my eyes (I don't <i>think</i> I fall asleep!) and I am there...living another life altogether, in a different body, carefree!<br />
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"Congratulations!<br />
Today is your day.<br />
You're off to Great Places!<br />
You're off and away!<br />
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You have brains in your head.<br />
You have feet in your shoes.<br />
You can steer yourself,<br />
Any direction you choose.<br />
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You're on your own.<br />
And you know what you know.<br />
And YOU are the guy<br />
Who'll decide where to go."<br />
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Dr. Seuss<br />
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"Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple". Dr. SeussTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-45348033014385938432013-08-21T20:24:00.001-07:002013-08-21T20:24:41.430-07:00Pockets of Tranquility<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qhuguBIsb8E/UhVuk_W79oI/AAAAAAAAFtU/N7V6RkY5q4c/s1600/2013_08_09_IMG_1940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qhuguBIsb8E/UhVuk_W79oI/AAAAAAAAFtU/N7V6RkY5q4c/s640/2013_08_09_IMG_1940.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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"You owe it to everyone you love (including yourself) to find pockets of tranquility in your busy world." </div>
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Georges Bernanos</div>
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What is it about a garden that brings such joy, such peace, such tranquility to a person? Is it just the fact that something is alive, vibrant and healthy or is it something altogether different than that? I have been in all sorts of gardens to know that it isn't always the fact that the garden is teeming with color that makes it magical, at least for me. In fact, Autumn is typically my favorite time of the year yet things are going dormant and turning colors; basically dying. But just being in a garden space or out in nature brings such a peaceful feeling to me that it is hard to beat.</div>
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Just today while doing the daily watering of my garden I was thinking to myself (as I do on a daily basis in my garden) just exactly what my garden represents to me. There amongst all the plants that I have purchased at different garden centers were the plants that I brought with me two years ago from my first house. Those plants had special meaning to me and it was imperative to me when we moved that they make the move also. For me, there wasn't even a question as to "if" I was going to transplant them or not. They were like my children and there was no way that I was going to leave them behind.</div>
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The lilac bush that my grandmother gave to me which always bloomed on my birthday in April came. The Virgina Creeper, samples of almost every iris that I had, the maple trees that were starting to really take hold yet graced me with the ability to dig them up and bring them over here also came along. And they are still thriving. When our favorite poodle Misty died unexpectedly on Easter Sunday before we moved, we planted a Weeping Cherry tree to help us remember how much we missed her and all the tears we weeped after she passed. This year I planted a Weeping Cherry tree on our new property and even though it is not the original tree, it reminds me to remember Misty. It is a place-holder.</div>
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Today, as I watered the plants in the early morning, I glanced at the trees that my friend Bob gave to me years ago. I said hello to the Virginia Creeper passed down to me from my grandmother. She used to have it as a living wall between her house and her neighbor's. Now I do the same. It is gently creeping up a fence on the perimeter of our yard and one day in the near future it, too, will form a living wall blocking out views of the neighbor's yard. And I remembered how beautiful it looks when Autumn arrives and the reds and oranges that the leaves turn before dropping their leaves and going dormant for yet another Winter. </div>
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As I made the rounds of my garden today, bending every once in awhile to pluck a weed out of the garden or to dead-head a plant here and there, a smell drifted past me. It was a very familiar fragrance. I turned and there it was: the rose that I brought home with me from my grandmother's home when she passed away. I have babied that rose for years and years and still it's fragrance and appearance remind me of her. Planted alongside the rose is a walnut tree that will have to be transplanted this Winter. It, too, came from my grandmother and is the baby of the original walnut tree that must be 30 feet tall by now at my old home. One day, there will be a giant walnut tree on this property and it, too, will remind me of its origins.</div>
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Plants are what connect us I have decided. They connect us to each other, they remind us of the person that first introduced us to the plant, they bring us closer to those we love when we can smell and see them growing. Some of my succulents have been passed down to me from my Aunt. Some plants I have received from my cousin because the deer eat them in his unfenced yard. Always, they weave a direct connection in my mind back to the source of where they came and for me, that always leads me to a place of tranquility, to a place of love, to a place of remembering. </div>
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The connections run deep for me in my garden. And it is my hope that when I am gone that the plants that I have passed along to my friends and family, will help them remember me. When they water, they can quietly say "hello Teri...I'm glad that you are here with me in thought". Thanks for the memories, garden! </div>
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"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature." Anne Frank</div>
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Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-3350537057492008322013-07-13T21:38:00.000-07:002013-07-13T21:38:27.431-07:00Second Trip to Schaffer's Mill<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-01HZdFu1OA8/UeIlxWoP79I/AAAAAAAAFq0/bjdmF0wubu0/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-01HZdFu1OA8/UeIlxWoP79I/AAAAAAAAFq0/bjdmF0wubu0/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1735.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What I could see from my car without being too obvious.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B4mq_fyirKM/UeIl0mmFybI/AAAAAAAAFq8/mBunJwaAMT8/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-B4mq_fyirKM/UeIl0mmFybI/AAAAAAAAFq8/mBunJwaAMT8/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1736.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From my car window, I could see that the windows were being installed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fD0uLkuoWcA/UeIl3oTEeAI/AAAAAAAAFrE/XDcIZupRM8k/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fD0uLkuoWcA/UeIl3oTEeAI/AAAAAAAAFrE/XDcIZupRM8k/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1737.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glare from my car window but you can see the roof line and some of the windows.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BU8EzRPV__I/UeIl7aXA23I/AAAAAAAAFrM/mHznirzUfG0/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BU8EzRPV__I/UeIl7aXA23I/AAAAAAAAFrM/mHznirzUfG0/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1738.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the front of the house with the big glass windows that face the street.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xPIYslcKqJ8/UeImAEuxiHI/AAAAAAAAFrU/8z8yoFW8B2A/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xPIYslcKqJ8/UeImAEuxiHI/AAAAAAAAFrU/8z8yoFW8B2A/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1741.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the golf course which is behind the house.</td></tr>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XXfN8ToKCIU/UeImDIyQ3AI/AAAAAAAAFrc/XOayZj-yNUo/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XXfN8ToKCIU/UeImDIyQ3AI/AAAAAAAAFrc/XOayZj-yNUo/s320/2013_07_11_IMG_1742.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tHWrIk2w1yY/UeImabsbTLI/AAAAAAAAFro/YJA-dJglGhY/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tHWrIk2w1yY/UeImabsbTLI/AAAAAAAAFro/YJA-dJglGhY/s320/2013_07_11_IMG_1744.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the Donner Monument in the town of Truckee. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PSdkJQHOEp4/UeImfWb6LgI/AAAAAAAAFrw/bRK4LKKPF4k/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1747.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PSdkJQHOEp4/UeImfWb6LgI/AAAAAAAAFrw/bRK4LKKPF4k/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1747.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of Donner Lake from the Old Highway, The mountains behind are in the east.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vtWsvRPJxz0/UeImkT3DXOI/AAAAAAAAFr4/eQ6MCR6_-Lg/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vtWsvRPJxz0/UeImkT3DXOI/AAAAAAAAFr4/eQ6MCR6_-Lg/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1748.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a shot of the bridge on the Old Highway. I hear that it is a pretty famous bridge even though I have never seen it and I have never travelled on the Old Highway before.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hhRApSeRHK0/UeImn3Syn-I/AAAAAAAAFsA/rVnPxJH4Pn8/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1749.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hhRApSeRHK0/UeImn3Syn-I/AAAAAAAAFsA/rVnPxJH4Pn8/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1749.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the granite that you see everywhere in this area. It is quite impressive!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KLQ60ihwjoA/UeImrkMB9iI/AAAAAAAAFsI/uGZCFCOZrzY/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KLQ60ihwjoA/UeImrkMB9iI/AAAAAAAAFsI/uGZCFCOZrzY/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1750.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More of the same granite formations farther up the road.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VeWlWdmWzHo/UeImuUyIHsI/AAAAAAAAFsQ/rDIiPYjbXCY/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1751.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VeWlWdmWzHo/UeImuUyIHsI/AAAAAAAAFsQ/rDIiPYjbXCY/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1751.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In this shot you can see the covered train tunnels that protect the train and tracks in the winter when the mountains are covered in snow.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b4aamVa0b5w/UeImwxXXZwI/AAAAAAAAFsY/TonMlReApJM/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1752.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-b4aamVa0b5w/UeImwxXXZwI/AAAAAAAAFsY/TonMlReApJM/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1752.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some wildflowers I saw by the side of the road.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wFrldlzls5g/UeIm193B77I/AAAAAAAAFsg/tbRTOZu4Xao/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wFrldlzls5g/UeIm193B77I/AAAAAAAAFsg/tbRTOZu4Xao/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1754.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another shot looking east where you can see the size of the lake. Schaffer's Mill would be at the far end of the lake in the valley before you go over the mountains in the distance.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gg-heLYLGDE/UeIm43SUvII/AAAAAAAAFso/FGYh8CXca_w/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gg-heLYLGDE/UeIm43SUvII/AAAAAAAAFso/FGYh8CXca_w/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1755.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another shot of the granite cliffs where you can see how small the automobiles appear at the bottom of the picture.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nYJ_SLfEsJ4/UeIm7wY-lXI/AAAAAAAAFsw/Uv0cBQrIJRs/s1600/2013_07_11_IMG_1757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nYJ_SLfEsJ4/UeIm7wY-lXI/AAAAAAAAFsw/Uv0cBQrIJRs/s400/2013_07_11_IMG_1757.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A wonderful shot of the bridge with Donner Lake in the background. This is some beautiful country and to think that it is only about an hour away from my home! How lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place. Truly spectacular!</td></tr>
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"LOOK DEEP INTO NATURE, AND THEN YOU WILL UNDERSTAND EVERYTHING BETTER."<br />
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Albert EinsteinTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-13537830293207488422013-07-09T22:10:00.001-07:002013-07-09T22:10:19.973-07:00NEW BEGINNINGS AND DREAMS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BVDy6LhXP1E/UdzlRApTIHI/AAAAAAAAFpk/Mz9znH4CA8I/s1600/2013_06_21_IMG_1352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BVDy6LhXP1E/UdzlRApTIHI/AAAAAAAAFpk/Mz9znH4CA8I/s400/2013_06_21_IMG_1352.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
On June 21st I had the opportunity to attend a retreat in the Lake Tahoe area for the weekend. I had just seen a post regarding the new HGTV home that was being built for 2014 and saw that it was being built in the Tahoe/Truckee area known as Schaffer's Mill. So, being the curious person that I am I thought that I would make a side-trip out of it and see if I could find and photograph the home. I think that I found it based on the drawings that they posted of the floor plan. If I photographed the wrong house, well then...I guess I goofed but I really think this is the one based on what I saw.<br />
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There is a distinct "bridge" in the floor plan and also in this structure so I'm assuming it is "the one". I love this area of California. It is located over the mountain from Donner Lake on one side and on the other side Lake Tahoe is situated. There are many really high-end golf courses really close by this location as well as the towns of Truckee and Reno. Great for flying in and out and also close by is a small airport for small aircraft.<br />
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I loved the street sign I saw when I was leaving. Heartwood: what could be better?<br />
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These are a few of the homes that are located in the community. The community sits right on a golf course and it looks like most of the homes have this "woodsy" craftsman-style type of architecture. Very natural looking and the area is very, very quiet. Next time I go there I am going to go to the sales office and ask to see a model. This is really an area that would appeal to everyone. Level roads for bike riding, a golf course right in your backyard, snow in the winter with lots of skiing opportunities at places like Northstar and Squaw Valley (known for the Olympics), and so much more.<br />
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I am a firm believer in the premise that there are unlimited possibilities in this world of ours. If you can imagine it, it can happen. We create our own destinies. I am the co-creator of my world and so are you. I lay aside any belief in limitation and realize the truth of abundant life and health. I imagine myself living in this wonderful home, surrounded by close family and friends, sharing many long hours and days with those that I love.<br />
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This area in California has a very spiritual feeling to me. I have loved the smells in the air in the Autumn, the smells of the pine in the warm summer sun, the crisp air fresh with a new blanket of snow in the Winter and the glorious wildflowers in the Spring. In my estimation, there is nothing better.<br />
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"What I see in Nature is a magnificent structure that we can comprehend only very imperfectly, and that must fill a thinking person with a feeling of humility. This is a genuinely religious feeling that has nothing to do with mysticism." Albert EinsteinTerihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-73856274558699723422013-03-08T21:00:00.000-08:002013-03-08T21:00:14.550-08:00THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS (PART TWO)Most of us who like to write our blogs, I assume, have wild imaginations and like to think of all sorts of possibilities and things that we could (and do) post on our blogs. At least that's the way that I am and that's the way that my mind works. There is always something churning in the background and usually, if I don't remember to take my camera along, that is the one time that there is something so incredible that I wish I had remembered it. So now I've just beome accustomed to more often than not, carrying my camera along when I leave home. I don't like to be caught without it. J<i>ust in case!</i><br />
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On a typical day, if the weather is clear and not raining, you can find me out for a walk with my granddaughter in the stroller. This is part sanity, part physical exercise, and part just because I need to see something other than the inside of my house. There is so much life outside these four walls. I don't always remember to take my camera with me though. Last week I found something on my walk but I didn't need the camera with me to document it. I just bent over and picked it up.<br />
It was this:<br />
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It was a card that someone had sent (or given I suppose) to someone else. It was a Valentine's Day card all about love. It had been rained upon, tossed by the wind and blown into the gutter, and was in very bad shape. And it was upside down so I didn't really know what it was when it caught my eye. I just saw some writing on it and became curious about what the wrtiting said. It could have just been a grocery list. Or a receipt for all I knew. But, when I picked it up and investigated it, I noticed that it was signed and there was something personal that had been written on the inside. This is the inside:<br />
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You can just make out what the card says and in fact, I cannot really read who signed it because it is so degraded. It could be from a man to a woman or vice versa. But all the same, it meant something to someone at sometime. And that is where the possibilities begin.</div>
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This card got me to thinking about the giver and the recipient. And why the card ended up in the gutter as if it didn't really mean anything. Or did it? Did the card blow out the window of a car and get lost? Did the recipient reject the card and throw it out of the window? Perhaps the giver of the card wrote all these things and then decided that it was in vain and tossed it out the window him(her)self? Imagine the stories that this card could tell if only it could talk. Maybe the person who received it accidentally lost it and is devastated that the card is no longer in his/her possession. The possiblities are endless and that is where this card took me.</div>
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I have had it sitting on my desk for about a week now. It kept calling to me, bekoning me to write about it but the time just has not permitted. Sickness has struck my family this last week or so and frankly, I just have not had the time to sit down and devote the effort to it. I'm sure that some of you have the same thing happen to you occasionally. The intentions are good but time does not allow. We have to do what is important to us at the moment. And frankly, we have all been a bit sad around here after losing a dear friend after forty years. It is not easy to imagine not ever seeing him again but we also have wonderful memories to keep him alive in our hearts. His daughter just got engaged last week too. I'm sure he would have been thrilled with the news. He was very particular though, as to who was good enough for his daughter.</div>
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And so, life seems to be on its steady pace despite the loves and the losses. The finder of the card has imagined many different scenarios about the card and picking it up has added something to the fabric of my life now. I can imagine the possibilities. I hope that it was a happy ending but I also realize that not every story has a happy ending. Sometimes there is hope and sometimes there is not. That is life. That is love. Those are the possibilities.</div>
<br />Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14030528845321746.post-18408469740122984852013-02-07T20:31:00.002-08:002013-02-07T20:31:43.414-08:00The month of the heart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Today, my heart is breaking as I just learned that our good friend Bob Paley passed away tonight. I can't tell you what losing a friend of over forty years means. There are no words except that this is the month of the heart and my heart is broken. Yet in some ways, my heart is full for knowing this man.<br />
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We first met Bob in the early seventies. He had just moved up to northern California from southern California and arrived in style. He was a big fish in a small pond. He had the most beautiful woman with him at the time too. Martha became the mother of his two wonderful children, Sunny and Silver who have turned out to be the most incredible young people anyone would ever want to meet. And I'm sure it is no accident that they are the way they are. It was because of the influence, in part, of Bob on their lives.<br />
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Bob was an incredible gardener. He had a way with flowers that I have never seen before. I could not see him for a week, return a week later, and the garden would have exploded. Vegetables and flowers alike. He had a way of taking care of plants that I have never seen in my entire life. They responded to him. They loved him. And the feeling was mutual.<br />
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Bob also loved animals. I don't think I ever saw him without a dog. And sometimes not just one but multiple dogs. If he had to give them away after they were weaned he took great care to select just the right person to raise that animal. He knew if it was a good fit. He had some sort of sixth-sense about animals. I guess it translated from animals to plants as well.<br />
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He owned many restaurants and man...was he a good cook. The restaurants were decorated from the rafters with dried flowers of every variety. If you would look up, you would think you were in his backyard by the plethora of color that adorned the rafters. He was known for his gift of gab too. I suppose that's why his restaurants were so popular with the town. He started out with an ice cream parlor and branched out from there. Desserts of many kinds were served in that parlor! I remember Connie Nelson making some killer cheese cakes there. Good follows good, doesn't it!!<br />
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Bob was also a fellow Taurus. We used to talk about being so connected to the earth, he and I. I spent many afternoons visiting with Bob. After he and his daughter Sunny built a new home in Georgetown, I used to go over once a week and help Bob and Sunny out by cleaning house for them. Sunny used to joke and say that she got me to come out of retirement to help her out. I was a blessing in disguise really. I always got more from Bob than I bargained for. One time I complimented him on a beautiful triangular-shaped jar and when I left that afternoon, it was sitting by my purse for me to take home. He was so generous. And his praises went unsung by him.<br />
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There was someone in our community who lost their home to a fire and the next week Bob had delivered a trailer for them to live in and if I'm not mistaken, also gave them some money to get by on. He was just like that. Another friend lost her husband and was down on her luck and didn't have transportation. He gave her his car. Most people didn't know how generous Bob was to so many in town. He never boasted about it. That wasn't like him. He was just a kind, wonderful person that saw a need and filled it.<br />
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I will miss Bob dearly. Since we moved to the adjoining county we missed seeing him as often as we used to but he was never far from our thoughts. Bill had just seen him a week and a half ago. They talked about their broken femurs and probably commiserated about their aches and pains...the sad signs of getting older. But Bob was young at heart and taken from this earth a bit too soon in my estimation. I'll always remember him for what he gave...to me, to the community, to his children, to the earth...to life. He was never afraid to take a chance...to gamble on something that he felt was the right thing to do. And most of the time it paid off. I think he landed on his feet more times than not. We all take some bumps in life. Bob learned to roll with his.<br />
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Wherever he has transitioned to, I know in my heart that there will be a beautiful garden there waiting for him to tend it. There will also be animals to love and tend to. How could there not be? Someone so special will have a special place to call home. He is loved and missed but he is still here in my heart...in our hearts. Not only this month of the heart, but forever.Terihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13046623774704584939noreply@blogger.com5