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Be Grammared or Be Hammered
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I’ll catch the sun
It is better to light just one little candle,
Than to stumble in the dark!
Better far that you light just one little candle,
All you need is a tiny spark
THERE ARE TWO WAYS of remembering. One is to make an excursion from the living present back into the dead past. The old sock remembers how things used to be when you and I were young. The faraway look in his eyes is partly the beer and partly that he’s really far away.
The other way is to summon the dead past back into the living present. The young widow remembers her husband, and he is there beside her.
When Jesus said, “Do this in remembrance of me,” (1 Corinthians 11:24) he was not prescribing a periodic slug of nostalgia.
~ Frederick Buckner
Joshua Edward Spackman Siglos
Do you smile to tempt a lover, Mona Lisa?
Or is this your way to hide a broken heart?
Many dreams have been brought to your doorstep
They just lie there and they die there
Last night, my family and I were looking at Josh’s photo and I said, he has that certain smile. A Mona Lisa’s smile.
Is his smile happy or sad? I would like to think that his smile is unequivocally happy. It’s not rocket science. Being surrounded by his family loving him to bits and unconditionally, of course, he is happy.
Even his eyes, the eyes will follow us no matter where we are in the room. A gaze that will make you wonder, what is he thinking? Again, happy or crappy thoughts? His thought is brilliant, a gifted mind.
We wish he is here with us to ask him: Hey Josh, what do you think of your photo? What is the meaning of your smile?
The answer will remain a mystery, more mysterious than Mona Lisa.
Josh Siglos died at a young age of 31 on April 28, 2017.
As she looked at her own face in the mirror, she suddenly recalled the sorrowful widow. It was at that moment that she wrote the opening lines of “Solitude“.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own. ~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox
In giving shape my view of the world having a solitary person in the foreground suggests that it is okay to be alone but not lonely.
All work and no rest makes a man boring. Rest he did in his three-wheeler taxi cab. Who needs money when one is too tired to enjoy life. When he wakes up from his solitude, life becomes bearable again.
And what on earth is he doing down there alone? Fishing! Men prefer to reel a fish similar to playing golf, alone. So why do men enjoy fishing alone? Because the fish are bigger and the stories are better with no witnesses!
In a crowd of a million tourist, he just have to sit down with a non-verbal companion. Maybe he had enough listening, blah-blah-blah. Or maybe he is just like me observing how silly tourist really are. Or maybe he left his wife in a store shopping. Or maybe…
Ah, solitude, such sweet surrender.
Q: Doctor, I’ve heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life. Is this true?
A: Heart only good for so many beats, and that it… Don’t waste on exercise. Everything wear out eventually. Speeding up heart not make you live longer; it like saying you extend life of car by driving faster. Want to live longer? Take nap.
Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake?
A: Oh no. Wine made from fruit. Brandy distilled wine, that mean they take water out of fruity bit so you get even more of goodness that way. Beer also made of grain. Bottom up!
Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio?
A: Well, if you have body and you have fat, your ratio one to one. If you have two body, your ratio two to one.
Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program?
A: Can’t think of single one, sorry. My philosophy: No pain…good!
Q: Aren’t fried foods bad for you?
A: YOU NOT LISTENING! Food fried in vegetable oil. How getting more vegetable be bad?
Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle?
A: Oh no! When you exercise muscle, it get bigger. You should only be doing sit-up if you want bigger stomach.
Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: You crazy?!? HEL-LO-O!! Cocoa bean! Another vegetable! It best feel-good food around!
Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming good for figure, explain whale to me.
Q: Is getting in shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! ‘Round’ is shape!
Well… I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.
And remember:
Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways – Chardonnay in one hand – chocolate in the other – body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming “WOO-HOO, what a ride!!”
AND…..
For those of you who watch what you eat, here’s the final word on nutrition and health. It’s a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.
CONCLUSION: Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.
source: e-mail chain
I just found out that I will make you smile! Only Carl D’Agostino can make you smile.
Didn’t I just write about my unipolar personality for the whole week when I participated in Let’s Talk? I thought I will become as famous as Clara Hughes. Instead, my STATS flatlined!
According to this personality test, I am an entertainer with the following characteristic traits:
Huh? Really? This is so uncouth.
Go ahead. Try your personality test and let me know how accurate this is for you.
“Rest here, quiet your mind and tune your heart, for I have much to tell you.”
Sunrise at Mt. Beatitudes
“Blessed are the serene in spirit.
“Blessed are they who are not held by possessions, for they shall be free.
“Blessed are they who remember their pain, and in their pain await their joy.
“Blessed are they who hunger after truth and beauty, for their hunger shall bring bread, and their thirst cool water.
“Blessed are the kindly, for they shall be consoled by their own kindliness.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall be one with God.
“Blessed are the merciful, for mercy shall be in their portion.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for their spirit shall dwell above the battle, and they shall turn the potter’s field into a garden.
“Blessed are they who are hunted, for they shall be swift of foot and they shall be winged.
“Rejoice and be joyful, for you have found the kingdom of Heaven within you. The singers of old were persecuted when they sang of that kingdom. You too shall be persecuted, and therein lies your honor, therein your reward.
Kahlil Gibran on Matthew "The Sermon on the Mount"
He was willing to bare all if even one person could relate to any part of his story and find strength in their family and friends, but most importantly within themselves. – Repurpose a story.
Safe. I felt safe being there. Stay. The ward is a lock-down facility to keep me safe. Mind. I didn’t mind the least bit. I don’t know where to go; don’t know where to stay. When in doubt, do nothing. Minding what is safe, I stayed, for a while.
The ward is equipped with TV, funny magazines, pool table, jigsaw puzzles, coloring books; items to keep me amused or occupied but none of these interest me. So I sat on the floor at the end of the long corridor looking out through the glass door. Here alone I played Tetris, read CareNotes and rolled the prayer beads with my fingers.
Tetris, a gift from my sister Poteet. A game she took away from my nephews. As I recall, the new computer game was causing problems that the boys were glued to it and neglecting to go outside to play the real stuff. I don’t like any kind of computer programs. I was once a computer geek in my younger days writing programs, test programs and application. It drove me crazy trying to solve someone’s programming that has no logic. But Tetris became a real stuff for me inside the ward. It helped me focus. It helped me solve problems. It helped me shape and organized my mind objectively. It helped rewire, build blocks and expand the plasticity of my brain.
CareNotes is all I can find at the Chaplain’s office. The Chaplin’s office is always closed. Never saw him, never met him, and never talked to him. The notes hang outside his office. I know he came around when there are new CareNotes. I collected them all. Dealing With Suicidal Feelings, Climbing Up From Depression, Believing in Your Own Inner Goodness, Finding Strength to Survive a Crisis or Tragedy, Making Sense Out of Suffering, Bearing the Special Grief of Suicide, Easing the Burden of Stress, Encountering Midlife, Emerging Renewed, Finding God in Pain or Illness, Walking with God Through Grief and Loss, Letting Tears Bring Healing and Renewal. CareNotes is an endless resource giving meaning to my question “Why Me?” Now, these CareNotes are my bathroom companion, at home. Good reads not just for me but as well as anyone that uses the toilet.
Prayer Beads enclosed came in a card from my other sister and she wrote: April 5, 1992. Dearest Lady, A priest in Toronto who cares deeply is giving you his personal rosary. This has been blessed and carries with it his own prayers for your well-being and that you will find it in you to pray the rosary. Lady, believe in the power of the rosary and you will be fully alive again. Love and prayers, always. Thelma.
I did not pray the rosary. I do not know how to pray, then. I carried it with me, though. I clutch it when I go to bed, never let it go. Should I wake up in the middle of the night with no prayer beads on my hand, I panic. Searching for it in the darkroom, the beads glow in the dark and with a sigh of relief of finding it, I kissed the cross and went back to sleep. The rosary is now gone; I don’t know how I lost it. But I still go to bed with a rosary on my hand. Can’t sleep without it just like a child with a teddy bear to snuggle with to have a goodnight sleep.
My family reads my blog and provides me articles in relation to the topic that I write. My sister Carmen sent me a Report on Business at the Globe and Mail about ‘Irv’. Irv and I share a common ground: Mental Illness.
It has been a long week of Let’s Talk. Stay well and be well, Perpetua.
What is prayer?
You take words,
everyday words,
and all of a sudden they become holy.
Why?
Because there is something
that separates one word from
another and then you try to fill
the vacuum.
With what?
With whom?
With what memory?
With what aspiration?
So when words bring you closer
to the prisoner in his cell,
to the patient who is dying on his bed alone,
to the starving child,
then it’s a prayer.
words by Elie Wiesel
There are certain movements men do that I can see how graceful they are. More graceful than females do. It’s their feminine side that they do not want to admit.
They are beautiful. Beautiful in the sense that they don’t have to prove their masculinity. The beauty that oozes with sublime humility where fellow-men can watch with quiet admiration.
Where is the beauty in them?
The beauty exists in my mind how rounded they are. Not just how nice they are to stop, pause and be photographed. It is how gracious they are in accepting a stranger in their environment.
Emerging elegantly from the depth of an ancient tree enriches how life mysteriously unfolds my memory of Cuba ever so gracefully.
We discovered that there is no language barrier to strike up a friendly conversation, have a few laugh and just enjoy a frozen lake on a perfect sunny day.
The atmosphere was heavenly. An ambience we could not ask for anything more and an experience we will remember for a long time.
I thank God for this amazing day!
Do we travel in order to be moved or is it that we travel in order to move around?
We check around the surroundings in search for a perfect ambience, our eyes darting from one object to another, our whole body tasting, breathing, feeling, smelling, touching, hearing, listening all in one instance taking it all in.
But…. there is no but. We can only focus on one that will transport us from a lot of movement into our inner world with conscious measure of calmness and clarity.
And then, I could feel the air pulsing and be one with the hummingbird, heart beating as fast its wings yet hovering still to the sweet aroma of the nectar beckoning it, kissing and drinking the elixir of life.
I am not the only single person in the world. There are a lot of us. People are always curious about our love life and they ask:
when are you going to get married?
who are you seeing?
how come you are not married?
are you gay?
it goes on….
Now, how do we stop our friends and families from asking?
Source : Urban Etiquette by Ellen Vanstone at Metro News
These figures spring from their history, shedding an old skin and metamorphosing into their dream self. This aspect of ourselves is much less tangible than our genealogy; it is the identity we fashion through this ancient dust, the core we meet in the mirror. The self that is much deeper than the colour of our skin. The one we dare not speak, our heart’s desire, our secret hopes, our sacred place. This is the one to be honoured now, back to the source where all tribes meet.
Family Mosaic is a sculptural portrait of a seven-month pregnant woman alongside her husband, who is laying his head on her stomach, anxious to hear the heartbeat of their new-born child.
This piece is from a series of figurative sculptures entitled Tribes that deal with the motion of mixed ethnic backgrounds. All of the decorative detailing and colours in the work are representative of some aspect of their lives such as their cultural heritage and personal history.
The mother, whose work involves aiding people with communication, has always had a passion for language and art. The yoke of her dress depicts a typical embroidery sampler from the turn of the century representing her German and Italian ancestry. Her face is partly covered by a Venetian carnival mask and in her hand she holds her favorite instrument, the violin
The father who was born at Vancouver General Hospital, was raised in Hong Kong until age 10. His subsequent return to Canada is shown through the map on his back. The chopsticks in his hand and the rice embedded in his arm portray his family’s enthusiasm for the culinary arts. Other details refer to his first career as a geologist where he was the sole survivor of a helicopter crash. He is now a school teacher and is an avid storyteller.
The drum on the father’s back symbolizes the child, who by age two was enthralled with percussion and music. He is representative of a generation of young Canadians of mixed heritage who will hopefully be free to celebrate their diversity and value of the richness of their cultural identity.
Family Mosaic by Nicole Dextras donated by the artist in 2003 to VGH &
UBC Foundation. The art work and transcript are on display at
Vancouver General Hospital.
A photo of a rose from the convent’s garden made into a card and two words that I still keep as a transcript of sincerity.
I care.
To know someone cares was good enough to fight for my life.
As a first-year teacher, I worried about how much I didn’t know about my students. I explained to them that I wanted to get to know them better. I wrote, “I wish my teacher knew . . .” on the board and asked them to complete the sentence.
Each student’s response was unique. They responded with honesty, humor, and vulnerability. Sometimes their notes talked about their favorite sport. Sometimes students complained about conflict with siblings or friends. They wrote about their home life and the people who meant most to them. Sometimes they articulated their hopes for the future and sometimes they explained obstacles they were facing. After completing this lesson, I was amazed at how well it helped me connect with my students. Their notes became a tangible reminder for me to truly listen to the voices of students in my classroom.
Imagine a world in which every child’s potential is valued; where every child receives the excellent education they deserve. What would our government look like? What would our neighborhoods look like? What would our schools look like? What would our classrooms look like? What would school be like if we asked students to tell us what we adults don’t know?
Source: Excerpt from I wish my teacher knew by Kyle Schwartz
Looking at this Egyptian girl, suddenly I realized how ordinary my life is.
There is always a reason whatever that may be. But thoughts are funny for some reasons just do not make sense.
I will use myself as an example. And this is the bubble of my thoughts.
I post. I trash. I post. I trash. Repeat.
Can I anticipate the maddening process of my brain? Yes, most of the time.
I wonder if Hemingway’s bubbling thoughts is similar to me. Did he learn to forgive?
In simple words write a thank you note:
Thank you for loving me
Thank you for believing in me
Thank you for staying in my life
Thank you for accepting me unconditionally
Looking for a perfect card that will match the person’s personality can be a challenge especially for my sister who never ever change. She epitomizes the word sameness. That is, the same hair style for all those years.
She wears her hair on a bun!
Her hair is naturally long and black. Lucky person, no white hair for a 70-year-old. Unlike me, my hair is arctic white. I must have received all the white genes in our family.
As for a birthday card, we found the perfect image of her.
I kid you not, when we were younger, we ‘teased’ her hair to create a beehive.
Happy Birthday, sister.
When you surrender,
the problem ceases to exist.
Try to solve it, or conquer it,
and you only set up more resistance.
I am very certain now that,
as I said therein,
if I truly become what I wish to be,
the burden will fall away.
The most difficult thing to admit,
and to realize with one’s whole being,
is that you alone control nothing.
— Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anais Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953. (Mariner Books,1989) Originally published 1945.
Thank you, David for your response in It’s been a long day.
A 1st grade school teacher had twenty-six students in her class. She presented each child in her classroom the 1st half of a well-known proverb and asked them to come up with the remainder of the proverb.
It’s hard to believe these were actually done by first graders. Their insight may surprise you. While reading, keep in mind that these are first-graders, 6-year-olds, because the last one is a classic!
And the WINNER and last one!
Hat tip: Weezie
Image Credit: Love, Live and Laugh
Posted by Sandee
Caption This: Dog and Tortoise — Blog — National Geographic Your Shot.
When Hairy met Shelly
And the winner is:—Meg Heimovics Kumin
All things bright and beautiful
All creatures great and small
While I was drinking a cup of coffee, a couple of birds were reluctant to go closer to a pool of water because of my presence. I stood still and kept quite in order not to disturb them since I want their company. Slowly they took the courage to dip their feet on the water while peering at me. When they realized that I will remain motionless, they took the plunge.
This is my reward, a memory of my stay at Kochi, Kerala, India. In addition, I am learning how to use the power of computer photography. My very first GIF, perseverance has its own rewards.
One day, I realised that I was making the same trip every day for almost four years.
Waking up at the same time, taking the same routes through the same streets, walking on the same sidewalks in front of the same buildings […]
… called routine.
Because life is all about rhythm.
ROUTINE: Noun
- A course of action to be followed regularly ; a standard procedure.
- A set of normal procedures, often performed mechanically.
- computing) A set of instructions designed to perform a specific task.
TGIM* Thank Goodness It’s Monday
Project by: Julien Douvier
Boy oh boy oh boy…
Good Monday Morning, Dog!
Wake Up!
This is is so exciting.
It’s Monday!
Dog… hmmm… just another Monday
What am I gonna with this kitty.
Too cute for words.
The colour of her skin is not yellow. This is my colleague and an activist that deals on issues about races.
Seeing her this morning sitting beside a yellow rose bush still blooming in winter made me smile. Last night when she walked into our Christmas party, she immediately sat down and I can’t peel her off the chair to socialize until I left the party.
Too funny to see her again sitting down. Her job as a law enforcer being on her feet most days is just gruesome. But, she always has this smile on her face.
Doesn’t she look good in her yellow uniform?
Let me get this off my system.
If you are looking for Starbucks in India, good luck! You can only find the coffee shop in the Airport, departure area.
And if you are looking for a freshly brewed coffee, there is no such thing! Everything is instant coffee in India. The famous one is Nescafe or Folgers. Kate Crimmins are you rolling your eyes yet?
It was a problem, a very big problem for me. But hey, I am a pilgrim, this is not Club Med.
So, what is Indian Coffee? Pretty basic:
Oh, some make it frothy to give it an espresso look. There’s hardly any coffee in this cup but bubbles.
I was kicking myself to get a “caffeine kick” to it. There’s hardly any caffeine in an instant coffee. Drinking two or three cups of this first thing in the morning is my form of “flagellation” for seventeen days to wake me up. I survived.
The minute we arrived in Canada, we stopped over at my sister’s place and I asked for a real good brewed coffee, mug size.
Aaahhhh…. good to the last drop followed by a refill.
I am so glad to be home.
TGIM. Coffee?
Apparently it’s good for the Soul
According to Be Okay Today.
GIF via: Coffee Calms the Soul – Usually.
“Calvin: Dad where do babies come from?
Dad: Well Calvin, you simply go to Sears, buy the kit and follow the assembly instructions.
Calvin: I came from Sears?
Dad: No you were a blue-light special at K-Mart – almost as good and a lot cheaper!”
― Bill Watterson
Aboriginal Paper Mache
Cree Proverb
Realize that we as human beings have been put on this earth for only a short time and that we must use this time to gain wisdom, knowledge, respect and the understanding for all human beings since we are all relatives.
“ka-kí-kiskéyihtétan óma, namoya kinwés maka aciyowés pohko óma óta ka-hayayak wasétam askihk, ékwa ka-kakwéy miskétan kiskéyihtamowin, iyinísiwin, kistéyitowin, mina nánisitotatowin kakiya ayisiniwak, ékosi óma kakiya ka-wahkotowak.”
Class of 4/5 at Bayview Elementary School. The students are learning about First Nation culture. This project helps stimulate the children’s interest in other culture by integrating Social Studies, Language and Arts.
This one of many masks that are on display at the lobby of the Education Centre.
Think purple, Wear purple. It’s a purple kind of day.
I promised kanzen sakura that I will wear purple today to spread the word posted by greeneyedchess.
May 12 is Fibromyalgia Awareness Day. Please wear purple to create awareness and help find a cure.
And to lighten up a heavy topic, humour is the best medicine.
10 best things about Fibromyalgia
How do you like your coffee?
“Humans aren’t the only species on Earth
We just act like it.”
Source: Carol-in-Germany
Race you to Friday …. Weeeeee
Credited to pawnation.com
Morning walk to the train station is a beginning of my workday. One can only be filled with awe seeing a painted sky and feel the gratitude of a new day. I face the east only to see the sun starting to rise, welcomes and greets me: Good Morning.
Spirit who comes out of the East, come to me with the power of the East, the light of the rising sun. Let there be light on the path I walk. Let me remember always that you give the gift of a new day and let me never be burdened with sorrow by not starting over.
As I step out of the office is a beginning of an evening; a beautiful horizon at the west as the sun starts to descend, bids adieu and so long: Good Night.
Great Life Giving Spirit, I face the West, the direction of sundown. Let me remember every day that the moment will come when my sun will go down. Never let me forget that I must fade into you. Give me beautiful color; give me a great sky for setting so that when it is time to meet you, I come with glory.
In between this time is laden with new beginnings. One has to be in tune with the surroundings, pay attention and most importantly keep my ears opened to any whisperings: the rustling of the winds, the cry of the gulls or the high-pitch sound. When I hear that sound, I have to stop and be still. I know that sound. It is somewhat surprising to listen to it in the busy city just outside where I work. Mind you, this is a residential area where garden abounds.
Finally, I see it. Hummingbird! Seeing this precious little thing is a beginning of an exciting afternoon break that I must tell any passersby who are willing to listen to me. They, too, became excited. And in the end, they are thankful to experience the sight and sound of a hummingbird.
It doesn’t end here.
Another sighting of another hummer that is doing its mating call and dance happened. Have you ever seen how it courts a female hummer? The male sounds off the most incredible ear-piercing soft sound, will sky-rocket way up high and dives down. It does this maneuver over and over. What an accelerating experience.
I was looking like a fool until someone joined me in this marvelous dance of life. Soon, it will be a beginning of a baby hummer. Hopefully.
https://soundcloud.com/g-a-miller/heart-surgery-blues
Heart Surgery Blues
I’m in Golden Colorado / a streetlight shines between two pines
I’m not far from the brewery, / a thunderstorm and the School of Mines
heart surgery in the morning / heart surgery
sitting out on my back porch / with my guitar and my blues
the doctor told me not to / but I feel like drinking some booze
heart surgery in the morning / heart surgery
yes I’m gonna get a new valve / I said “could you please make it the plastic kind
I’d rather not have a pig valve / that is if’n you don’t mind
heart surgery in the morning / heart surgery
Buffalo Bill’s defunct* / he’s buried on a mountain** not far from here
it’s open mic night down at the bar / they’re down there laughing, joking, smoking, picking, grinning, singing and drinking beer
heart surgery in the…
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The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.
Really?
Somehow this cloud does not look promising on the first morning of staying in Bilbao, Spain. The sun was struggling to break through the thick clouds.
It’s rather a warm day, the sun won, the rain lost, the clouds remained in the horizon giving a soft white fluffy cottony texture,
I found a corner bar that is open first thing in the morning. It is actually a coffee bar by morning and serves stronger beverage by night, if you get my drift. Here I decided to have my morning Java and a simple breakfast.
Ah coffee. Coffee tastes much better in Spain than Starbucks in Canada.
In the background, I could hear music playing to the tune of “It’s a Wonderful World. It seemed to me that it was coming from across the water,
After coffee, I decided to follow the music and crossed the bridge. At the other of the bridge, I found the lone player and people were passing, in a rush, and continued walking.
Well, I have all mornIng and now he has an audience of one, me. I requested if he could play the “It’s A Wonderful World” again. And he did. What a beautiful way to start a day. Of course, he deserves a good tip for making my morning memorable,
I walked away and he was playing the classical hymn “Ave Maria.”
Good Morning, Spain!
Thank you, Rob by The World According to Tip Top