There is neither heaven nor earth, only snow, falling incessantly. —Unknown
(For more about snow, see my other blog, "It's All About....")
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
If you don’t have a parent or an adult, a teacher or a mentor … really see you, really love you, "Yes, there are things you do I don’t like, but you’re fantastic, you’re good enough. I love you." If that never happens to a child, the child assumes it’s her fault and tries to compensate for it, —Jane Fonda
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Well, allow me to introduce myself to you as an advocate of Ornamental Knowledge. You like the mind to be a neat machine, equipped to work efficiently, if narrowly, and with no extra bits or useless parts. I like the mind to be a dustbin of scraps of brilliant fabric, odd gems, worthless but fascinating curiosities, tinsel, quaint bits of carving, and a reasonable amount of healthy dirt. Shake the machine and it goes out of order; shake the dustbin and it adjusts itself beautifully to its new position. —Robertson Davies
Monday, August 27, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
The adventure of composition is a mystery. The Muse has her ways, she hides from you, comes for you in the middle of the night, at midday, at dawn. You must believe wholeheartedly in this divine power. It's an elusive gift that can appear at any time, anywhere. Artists are in awe of it. —Mickey Hart
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Goethe said, 'Talent is developed in privacy, ' you know? And it's really true. There is a need for aloneness which I don't think most people realize for an actor. It's almost having certain kinds of secrets for yourself that you'll let the whole world in on only for a moment, when you're acting. —Marilyn Monroe
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Monday, August 06, 2007
Saturday, August 04, 2007
Friday, August 03, 2007
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Monday, July 23, 2007
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Friday, July 13, 2007
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Monday, July 02, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Friday, June 15, 2007
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Saturday, June 09, 2007
GONNA BE BUSY....
I'll be too busy to post for the next few days, so here's (almost) a week's worth. Make it last.... Don't make pigs of yourselves!
Friday, June 08, 2007
Monday, June 04, 2007
Sunday, June 03, 2007
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Friday, June 01, 2007
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Graduation—>Commencement—>Beginning
What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from. —T.S. Eliot
Friday, May 25, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Friday, May 18, 2007
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Friday, May 11, 2007
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. —Erma Bombeck
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
When you travel, you experience,...the act of rebirth. You confront completely new situations...and on most journeys you don't even understand the language...you are like a child just out of the womb. You begin to attach...more importance to the things around you because your survival depends on them. You begin to be more accessible to others because they may...help you...you accept any small favor...with great delight, as if...you would remember [it] for the rest of your life. —Paulo Coelho
Saturday, May 05, 2007
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Monday, April 09, 2007
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Friday, April 06, 2007
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Much of the distress we experience as Christians comes not as the result of sin, but because we are ignorant of the laws of our own nature. For instance, the only test we should use to determine whether or not to allow a particular emotion to run its course in our lives is to examine what the final outcome of that emotion will be. Think it through to its logical conclusion, and if the outcome is something that God would condemn, put a stop to it immediately. —Oswald Chambers
Monday, March 19, 2007
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
A Blast From the Past
Got a quote today--a long one! Last night, I suddenly remembered this classic poem that my dad used to read to me when I was a kid. He wasn't real demonstrative when I was growing up, (He got better!) but there was never any doubt what he was saying when he read this to me.
-------------------------------
The Children's Hour
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, o blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!
--------------------------------
I love you too, Daddy!
-------------------------------
The Children's Hour
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupations,
That is known as the Children's Hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, o blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!
I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!
--------------------------------
I love you too, Daddy!
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Friday, January 12, 2007
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Monday, January 08, 2007
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Saturday, January 06, 2007
When you live with another person for 50 years, all of your memories are invested in that person, like a bank account of shared memories. It’s not that you refer to them constantly. In fact, for people who do not live in the past, you almost never say, “Do you remember that night we...?” But you don’t have to. That is the best of all. You know that the other person does remember. Thus, the past is part of the present as long as the other person lives. It is better than any scrapbook, because you are both living scrapbooks. - Federico Fellini
Friday, January 05, 2007
Repeat - hope you understand
Life has become a little less sweet, death a little less bitter, heaven a little more real. — Puritan Proverb (variation)
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Monday, January 01, 2007
Every man should be born again on the first day of January. Start with a fresh page. Take up one hole more in the buckle if necessary, or let down one, according to circumstances; but on the first of January let every man gird himself once more, with his face to the front, and take no interest in the things that were and are past. — Henry Ward Beecher
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