Happy New Year!

The year is ending
so much was learned
little is pending
and nothing to be yearned

It is what it is
That is what it's about
It is not about his
It's finding your clout

You are the one
you are waiting for
So have some fun
Throw open that door

Greet 20 14
It is more than dear
Go design your scene
Have a Happy New Year !

 - me -

Beauty

I Wish You

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

They say it takes a minute to find a special person. 
An hour to appreciate them. 
A day to love them. 
And an entire life to forget them."

Bob Perks
 
I wish you enough.

Watching

Why do we allow numbers to control our lives?  SAT scores, social security, passwords, blood pressure, more passwords, outside temperatures, fevers, pregnancy tests?  It is all in the numbers.  Of course, in the case of the latter, we will eventually know.  One way or the other. 

We'll be doing another test.  Soon. In the meantime, I have my own numbers.  I've been sick a few days.  Upper respiratory thing.  My numbers do not reveal a fever.  My body knows well enough that I just feel lousy.  Aching from head to toe.  Every joint.   Headache.  Sore throat.  Sinus pressure.  My 1,001 other parts are working just fine so I will do my best to be with them and let the annoyances be where they are.  Annoying. 

This has been an incredible holiday.  My grandchildren were here and I spent a lot of time watching the baby. Interacting.  She is beyond adorable.  But you know that I do not post photos of family or friends here.  They know who they are and if they want to be revealed here, they will tell me.  I do protect confidentiality. 

She is a happy baby, bigger than most of us at three months.  Our family welcomes a good heart, loving disposition and heighth.  I miss both my grandchildren when they leave.

It is wonderful seeing my family grow.  Watching my grandson help with a gingerbread house. Watching out for his arms as the beater in the mixing bowl goes round and round.  It feels more scary with a grandchild somehow.  Maybe it is because you are caring for their parent as well?

In the meanwhile, I'll be watching you watching me:)

On Waiting

The phone call will make all the difference. Years of planning.  Months.  High technology.  That is the contemporary world in which we live.  A phone call with confirmation can make all the difference.  Yes or no. 

I ask, "for the highest good."  Things come to those who wait.  Then there is all the metaphysical stuff.  When we are evolved enough, we will just know.  Feel it.  That will be enough.  Maybe we will be evolved enough so that we don't have a stake in what happens.  What is just is.  No attachment.  No yearning.

I am not there.  Not sure I want to be.  Then I would be different.  Maybe more evolved.  I wouldn't know myself.  Or maybe I would.

Facebook is loaded with posters that say simplistic things, inspirational things, things that are a whole lot of baloney!  Do you really believe this sh*T?

Wayne, really.  So Jews confined in concentration camps were an opportunity to grow?  I don't buy it.  And I don't like most of the posters, which is why I am on Facebook less and less.  Bunch of baloney.

I just want my daughter to have the baby she wants.  Simple as that.  Keep your posters.  I will keep you posted.

Tried To Kill Me?

I can't stand it anymore!

This nonsense about breast cancer, any kind of cancer is so misunderstood.  Companies are making a fortune out of it.  The so-called Susan G. Komen's Race For The Cure and others.  Drug companies, too.

Cancer is a result of environmental pollutants for the most part.  If  you haven't gotten that yet, please think about this. ENVIRONMENTAL POLLUTANTS!  This means food tainted with chemicals so the food grows faster and more abundantly.  So the insects stay off.  Water supply poisoned with aerial and ground spraying .  Runoff. It is in the air, in the sea, on the land.  It has changed DNA.  

Your breasts did not try to kill you.  Environmental pollutants did.  Genetic code gone wrong.  So let's get the facts straight.  These RUN FOR THE CURE races do nothing to stop this.  They do make money for the companies.

Enough said.

Finding Quiet

The holidays are challenging.  We love the idea of being with family.  Friends.  Normal Rockwell made a huge impression on us. 

We also want to make it an enjoyable one.  We hold the moment because we know it will be a while until we are together again.  But depending on the cast of characters involved it can be an intense time.  So many family OBLIGATIONS, doing things with people we don't want to be with in the first place.  Then the aftermath of how empty so many feel because we Norman Rockwell it.  We are good students.

Holidays for me are just about being with family. It was lovely.  Hectic. Loud.- It is hard to find the quiet within some times.  We are used to doing things our way.  Having peaceful thoughts.  Not being an automaton. We wonder how we got so far away from ourselves.  We also do not want to hurt anyone's feelings so we suck it all up.  We are glad to have Tums on hand.

My little space in the universe is quiet now and I am grateful.  They are grateful for theirs.  Until we meet again.

Find Peace

Finding that space between chaos and non-chaos is everything.  Try this sometime.  Find your peace within.  It works!

Mirror, Mirror

Otherwise, how would you have this thought?  Think about it.

When annoyances happen to you, whether they be annoying people or circumstances,  consider your own thoughts first. Am I doing the same thing this person is doing to me? How do I respond to these things? Why is this thought so familiar?

These things do go full circle until we get it.  What we resist, will persist.

Invitro-fertilization

My daughter underwent invitro-fertilization (IVF) yesterday.  This whole process began a year and a half ago.  First with a pregnancy, then a miscarriage.  Several inseminations and a second protocol of IVF.

As the mother of a child who wants a baby this has been a journey of a lot of science and technology, emotional ups and downs, and hope.

She is tired now.  Exhausted.    I am, too. I hesitate about what I discuss with her at this delicate juncture.  She knows this is also hard on me but I don't discuss it much with her.  The focus is on her.  My emotions are dealt with by wonderful friends who listen.  And listen. 

Rain taps against the metal of this building.  It is a cleansing rain. It washes away several beautiful snowstorms. It also washes away ice melt salt that covers everything in northern New England.

I wish it would wash away my tears.

Sun!

Snow covered roofs, pinkish blue sky.  It is the day after Winter Solstice.  Asheville, NC gets one hour and 23 minutes more daylight than does Concord,  NH this time of year. It isn't just the cold weather that sends New Englanders south.  It is the sunlight!

But the days are growing longer now.



"At 12:11 p.m. EST on December 21, the sun appears directly overhead along the Tropic of Capricorn, at 23.5 degrees south latitude. With the Earth’s north pole at its maximum tilt from the sun, locations north of the equator see the sun follow its lowest and shortest arc across the southern sky. For the next six months, the days again grow longer as the sun spends more time above the horizon."http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/capital-weather-gang/wp/2013/12/20/winter-solstice-2013-shortest-day-of-the-year-but-sunset-already-creeping-later/

My experience spending a winter in seacoast New Hampshire demonstrates the malaise that runs over most people.  Unless of course you ski. Then you are more than happy to be on the slopes. Skiing is a $6.5 million dollar industry in New Hampshire.




 

As we say in New Hampshire, LIVE FREE OR DIE.  Just don't do the latter on our slopes:)

The Shortest Day

Friday, December 19, 2008

Poetry Friday - Susan Cooper (b.1935)

The Shortest Day
by Susan Cooper

And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.

Unbeknownst to me until a few days ago, this poem was written by children's author Susan Cooper for The Christmas Revels, an annual celebration that takes place in Cambridge, MA, each year. If you're ever in the Harvard Square area in December, I highly recommend seeing and hearing this ever-changing group of performers.

1984 Is Here: A Tad Orwellian

Everywhere the newspapers are telling us that Macy's flagship store is holding suspected shoplifters in Room 140, a group of cells designed to hold them.  They are forced to sign an admission of guilt and pay a fine.  All without due process.

http://www.bostonglobe.com/business/2013/12/17/stores-have-free-rein-recoup-shoplifting-losses/MpMn4Wa0EzTVAymf239NpI/story.html

Furthermore, a "U.S. District Judge Richard J. Leon found that a lawsuit by Larry Klayman, a conservative legal activist, has “demonstrated a substantial likelihood of success” on the basis of Fourth Amendment privacy protections against unreasonable searches.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/national/judge-nsas-collecting-of-phone-records-is-likely-unconstitutional/2013/12/16/6e098eda-6688-11e3-a0b9-249bbb34602c_story.html

Do you see what is going on here?  Usurpation of our constitutional rights.  A tad Orwellian.

Big Sky Country

The following morning, Janel drove to the coffee shop.  She saw Pietro's car parked outside. She clutched  her heart.  And waited. 

Her cell phone rang.

"I know what is going on.  Don't go inside.  Look confused and drive to the end of the block.  We darkened your windows so no one will know it is you.  We also changed your plates.  You probably didn't notice that," Jack said.

"Oh, and we are in the exact same color car as you with YOUR plates.  We found a double for you and she is going inside."

Janel was more confused than ever. 

"Wait," she thought. 

"It is beginning to make sense.  Pietro was a plant."

Stunned, her heart was beating uncontrollably.  She saw a few things about him that told another side.  He left his law firm fast and she wondered.  He would never discuss it with her.  They had big name Mafia clients.

Janel was met by Jack who escorted her home.

They flew in her friend, code name "Hollywood" as the FBI flew both of them to Big Sky Country.  She would be in the Witness Protection Program until Miguel, Pietro and their associates were caught.

The Note

At precisely 8:00 a.m. tomorrow morning

sit in the last table by the window

at Coffee's On Cafe

Janel returned to her cabin the following day.  She removed the handwritten note from the door and went inside.  Jack and his team did a sweep of the cabin before and assured her she was fine. Just in case, they would post someone in the cabin next to hers for a while.

She was shocked at the place chosen to meet.  One of her favorite spots.  Did they know?  She had a lot of questions.She also knew the staff in the caffe and felt safe.

As the hand struck twelve, in walked a familiar face.  It was Pietro. She had met him in August and liked him instantly.  There was a mystery about him.  Always seemed so alone.  Always had a book or work with him.  Protective devices she thought. But he was fascinating.  She loved talking to him.  

Now the last month or two, Pietro had been friendly and sometimes, a bit distant.  He was off somewhere in his mind.  She knew it had nothing to do with her.  Maybe they were just both really shy and afraid to get hurt. She was.

Pietro approached her.  Removed his cap.  He had many caps.  Often looking like a character actor in a film.  She liked his Sherlock look the best.  But this was a Redsox cap.  Definitely his favorite.

He slid into the seat in front of hers at the table.

"Intrigued?" he said.

"I am," Gail said blushing.

"Did you...write the note?"

"I did."

"I had to end this nonsense.  The other day when we met, I hoped you would sit with me,"   he said.

"You didn't.  I even came back after thirty minutes but you were talking to the store manager, even standing up. I guess you just popped in."

"Oh," she said.

She felt like a schoolgirl.  Shy, silly, embarrassed about herself and knew he must have felt the same.  She also knew it took courage for him to connect with her.

"How did you know where I lived?"

"I asked Gayle.  She knew I was stumbling.  She was more than happy to help."

"What I wanted to ask you was if you would go out with me to dinner on Friday?"

"I'd love to," Janel said beaming.

"Good.  Can I pick you up at 6?"

"Sure, don't get lost," she laughed.

He gave her a hug.

Janel returned home and saw tracks on her road.  There was a typewritten note at the door.

Where were you?

At precisely 8:00 a.m. tomorrow morning

sit in the last table by the window

at Caffeine Only Cafe

Janel's heart started beating so hard she could hardly contain it.  She finally had a date with Pietro and now this. 

The Front Door

"Hello, hello, is anyone there?" Janel asked. 

Suddenly the electrical power was off in the house as well as her phone.  Nothing was working.  It was a quiet day at the ocean.  So there weren't any impending storms.

Janel went outside her cottage. Her L.L. Bean khaki backpack draped on her left arm. Around her neck hung her Canon binoculars.  A gift from family for helping with a wedding.

In the distance she saw the black Cadillac. Alone. She held her position and crouched down under the tall grasses by her purple home.  She was glad to be wearing camo clothing.  She needed it now.

Janel removed the short wave radio and called her friends at the Hampton marina. She was glad they were less than five minutes away.

"Jack, I am in trouble.  Someone is after me.  Could you pick me up now?"  

"Absolutely, kiddo.  Roger out."

Desert camo is a lifesaver at the beach.  She was fully suited.  Head to toe.

Just then she heard a couple of boats.  Jack came prepared.  He had known Janel since they were children growing up in Baltimore.  His father was a bay pilot and Jack knew everything about boats.  Years of working as Coast Guard rescue held him in good stead.  He missed the action and was ecstatic to be needed again.

"Oh my God.  He's brought an armada!" Janel thought.

"Hurry, get in.  We're outta here!", Jack said.

Jack whisked her off but a few of his buddies stayed behind.  They went into her cottage and outfitted it with surveillance cameras, motion detectors and loud speakers.   It was good to have friends who were former FBI agents.

Janel, Jack and his friends met back at the rescue headquarters.  Immediately, they hooked up their laptops to keep tabs on Janel's place.  No sooner than they had the screen up, they saw two men walk around her cottage.

Seeing her car outside, they left. A note was tacked on her front door.

Long Winter's Night

It is easier this New Hampshire winter.  I am no longer in shock. Winter is long here.  But there is something I am enjoying.  The first few snows are fun.  Everyone laughs about them.  Come mid February, the laughter ends.  Imagine being a bird here.

According to CarInsuranceComparison.com, New Hampshire is the third safest state in which to drive. Safe maybe if you are a bird and don't have to watch all the folks that weave.  Must be the Bostonians.  Rudest of drivers.

The skies are dropping more snow.  It is more like sleet.  The birds are still perched on the branches.  And I am tucked in ready for a long winter's night. 

The Switchoff

He was followed to the house by the sea.  Miguel was cocky enough that he wouldn't bother to look behind him.  Janel knew that and used it to her advantage. She was glad to be in a non-descript vehicle.  She had removed her plates just before she reached the dead end road at the beach.  The owner's of the house had left retreating to Florida. 

 Soon, a dark Cadillac passed her and parked next to Miguel's KIA.  A suited man got out.  His sunglasses were especially dark and he was in a hurry. That is where the exchange took place.  In choreographed fashion, the driver popped open the trunk.  Miguel packed the boxes, one by one as though there was gold bullion inside.

The suited man moved toward Miguel.  Miguel took the package wrapped in brown paper and tucked it into his pockets in the gray hoody. As the two cars left the sandy road, Janel slouched down in her car.  She didn't want to be seen.  Just in case.

As Janel turned right, she noticed  fleet of black cars blocking the men. She had her videocamera mounted in case she needed it.  She began filming immediately and couldn't wait to view it later that night. They had been intercepted and Janel wanted answers.

Just as she downloaded the film, her iPhone rang.  She didn't know the caller.  The number was blocked.

"Hello," she said.

The phone went dead.

Three Months

She came to our family a bundle of joy.  Peaceful.  Adorable. Ours.

There is nothing like a new addition to family.  I'll wait until the adoption is finalized before I share her photo.  I don't usually share photos of family here.  Infants are different.  How she came to us is her business.  Our family fully respects that.  That she is a gift is where the magic begins. As unique as the snowflake. 
Her crib awaits her for her first visit to the seacoast.  I am more than excited to open her presents.  She is well dressed.  Her parents take care of that but her Nana sure had fun shopping for her. 

This little baby will have a lifetime of attentive parents.  She was loved immediately.  She will know her culture because everyone will ensure that.  Her adoption will be open.  Could there be any other way?  Children are a gift to the world.  Mine sure were.  They are well traveled as the little one will be. 

She is three months old now.  Holding her head up more and more.  Lots of smiles and coos.  Lots of jabber.  Her brother loves her dearly and protects her already. They are family.  Bound together forever.  But then, we are all connected if you trace our DNA all the way. Don't you love that?

It is a season of joy.  A time to remember.  All that is good in our lives. And others who need our help.

Send In The Clowns

There's been a lot in the news lately about humans and other species being wired for empathy.  At our basic core, I believe that.  As children, I definitely believe that.  Until the ego finds a home.

Today I watched a program on one of my favorite composers, Stephen Sondheim.  He had a wretched childhood.  A mother who severely lacked balance, most likely from her own childhood problems.  In her later years, she messaged a letter to Stephen just before she had heart surgery.  In the letter she told him once again, that she had only one regret.

"That I gave birth to you."

How tragic for Stephen, the musical genius, to hear that.  How much more tragic that she actually felt and said that.  Again.

Stephen is truly wired for empathy.  He sees himself foremost as a teacher.  Listens with kindness, compassion.  Inspires. Even as a young woman, I loved his music. Especially, Send In The Clowns sung by Barbra Streisand.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnwJ5KIcKX4

Maybe some day I will meet him.  He'd get an instant hug.

Look At Me, Look At Me

Instead of putting the selfie down, we need to appreciate it.  Bless it and thank it for revealing what many of us have known for too long.  That is this a society full of self consumption.  Now, we have a photo to prove it.

In trying to remember when this form of self-aggrandizement began, I suspect it was within the last five to eight years. After all, in a society where social network reigns supreme in the tell-all form of media, we know everything.  We know when people are bored, we see what they are eating because they photograph it, we know when people in a relationship, are out of a relationship, and how they spend your day. 

Some of this is really interesting.  This writer has received some very good recipes, learned gardening techniques and arrangements, seen storm damage and what to avoid. 

I do feel disappointed that our President succumbed to a photo op at the funeral of Nelson Mandela.  It was totally inappropriate.  It was equally inappropriate the unkind remarks made about Mrs. Obama as she was captured in the photo.  Maybe she wasn't annoyed as some suggest, just maybe she was listening to someone speak about Mr. Mandela.  She is doing what we all should be doing.  Listening to the life of a man who learned through his own experiences to release anger and turn it into good. After all, his first wife "accus(ed) him of beating her and threatening her with an axe – as well as having several affairs." http://metro.co.uk/2013/12/05/nelson-mandela-dies-the-complicated-personal-life-of-the-man-feted-as-the-grandfather-of-the-world-3861349/

So many of the people who are praised for peace have had such lives. Gandi is another example.  But I digress here.  Perhaps it is through one's violence within that often leads to violence in personal relationships that leads one's back to oneself in a more peaceful manner.  This is in no way an excuse for domestic violence.  It is however, analogous to the selfie. It begins with the ego.  A psychosocialization pattern of unconsciousness. Learned behavior. Rather than going within to self soothe, we go outside.

We are a young, immature society.  Full of self. Putting the self out for the world to see.  I am grateful for what the selfie reveals.

Look at me, look at me. 

Snow, snow, snow.

This is one of my favorite drives.  It feels as though the road will go into the ocean.  This is the calm before the storm.  Look at the clouds as they dissipate.

We're supposed to get 5-8 inches tonight and another 1-3 tomorrow.

No doubt this is where I shall be.  Watching the snow from the slider in the warmth of my apartment.  No snow to shovel. These New Englanders know how to do snow.  They don't stay inside. They bundle and play.

Planted right here.  

Maybe I will even finish Barbara Kingsolver's book, Flight Behavior.

Produce!

Until

He had that curly brownish black hair.  Thick.  Slicked down.  Miguel didn't shave regularly.  He used to.  In fact, he used to be nicely dressed. He would shoulder his way down the hall as if he owned the place. Schmoozing was what he did best. He would flirt with the single women.  Much in the way a gigalo does. But he was careful.  No one was ever around when he flew off with the compliments.  What he didn't figure is that women talk.

It was only a year ago when people began to notice a change.  It wasn't just that his shop was expanding into the garage.  Or that materials were always left in disarray. It was often hard to find him.  Cathy would reach him by phone.  She always shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, God," she said.

The eye roll said it all.  Her voice would trail off.  As did her body.  She wouldn't look at you unless you were in the brown nose club.

But Miguel would look.  And boy, he did!  His eyes changed, too.  They were fixed and glassy.  His body odor made it difficult to stay in the same room with him.  Residents always had a spray handy after he would leave their apartment, having completed repairs. But his breath reminded you of alcohol.

He hung around long after the end of business hours.  Sleeking out in apartments.  Always with that forced laugh.

"They're watching you," Beth said.

She couldn't resist.  She knew they were.  She just didn't know who all of the 'they' were.  She would in time.

The day the new resident moved in Beth began to suspect something.  Adam never interacted in large groups.  He asked enough questions though.  Especially about Cathy and Miguel.  He was careful, though.  Always made sure no one was around.  He had been well schooled in the art of casual interrogation.

Until...

Fifty Five and Active

Well, there wasn't much about the place that one might credibly term, 'active.'  Their hearts were beating, blood went through their veins and they moved about.  Slowly.  So many of them came here as the last stop.  Like the critters loading into Noah's Ark, they came two by two, and then one by one.  Many had lost spouses.  Many needed personal assistance.

But when Cathy looked at their applications, she noted that they were all breathing and had healthy checkbooks.  That is all she needed.  Next.

Cathy had the tiniest chiseled up face with freckles everywhere.  They provided her complexion with a mottled look.But few would see her up close.  Except on the initial contact.  And when they signed the lease papers. Cathy stayed in her office.  Curled up.  On the rare occasion when she uncurled, she ran outside to smoke a cigarette, often wearing her coat. Cathy spoke to few.

There was an on again off again working relationship between her and Miguel, the maintenance man.  Unlike her, he was tall, big, with a constant unkempt appearance.  It wasn't always that way.  Not when I signed my lease some eighteen months ago.  He was a thinner version of himself.  Less smoking.  Or maybe not less.  He didn't wreak of cigarette smoke like he did now.  Nor was he glassy eyed.  Or sniffling.

It wasn't until Elsie mentioned that Miguel solicited her for unused Oxycodone, that I began to wonder.  To fear.  Or the long nights he would work.  Sometimes just hang around.  He would go into an apartment and spend a month 'repairing' it.  He would find things to do to pad  his hours.  Residents began to suspect something.

Then when Paula talked about odd things left in her apartment.  Things that were not hers.  And a mussed up bedspread.  Tanya saw him go in and out of other apartments.  Everyone heard him say,

"Oops, wrong apartment."

Of course he only said that when the next door neighbor was standing outside of their apartment.  Miguel worried the neighbors might suspect something.

Finding Annie's

There is something really special about a town that has a central gathering place.  Often it is a food establishment.  People flock there because the food is downright good.  They flock there because their friends have coffee, lunch or a pastry there.  They can count on the food to be delicious consistently.  They feel welcomed there.

Annie's Bakery in Sylva, North Carolina was all of that and more for me.  Local business people, writers, environmentalists, folks who care about eating healthy ate there.  The owners were always gracious and happy to provide a tray of bakery items and other foodstuff for non-profits.  They were an integral part of the community.  Downright nice, wholesome people.  Like the food they prepared.

But things change and they needed to focus on their Asheville bread business.  Pulling out of town and selling it to a lovely local couple eased the way for them. The new owners added their unique flare with changes in the menu.  The bakery, as we knew it, was gone.  So were most of the people who frequented Annie's.

New to seacoast New Hampshire, I am still in search of my Annie's. Organic, too.  I found the most amazing restaurant, Blue Moon Evolution in Exeter.  They are not open for breakfast.  They do provide outstanding food and a lovely waitstaff eager to serve.

So for now, I am still in search of a morning gathering place.  Maybe the universe wants me to change it up and do other things in the morning.

But for now, I'm still finding Annie's.

Half A Dozen

Half a dozen of people I knew have passed this year.  Some I knew better than others.  I genuinely liked all of them.  They all lived in western North Carolina.  A lifetime.  My lifetime, too.  Like all of us, they lived what they knew.  There were a few in particular, who lived in many spheres at once.  They held the moment.

One in particular, is in my thoughts now.  Don passed last night.  I didn't even know  he was sick.  I met him eight years ago at the home of a friend.  A group of us met weekly and Don always stopped by.  Funny, happy, silly.  You could count on him for an outrageous costume at Halloween.  Provocative.  I remember too well, the time he dressed as a mammography machine. Only Don could pull that one off. 

So much has happened in the eighteen months I have been away.  I've come to love two worlds.  Two places. Western North Carolina which opened up a whole new way of being.  In my absence, the state has gone very conservative. Yet in a hamlet, a group of people thrive.  New ideas, new ways of being.  Decidedly removed from the busy world. Many drawn because of the rafting in the Nantahala River.  Many drawn to the Great Smoky Mountains.  All well traveled.  Enormous clarity. 

Seacoast New Hampshire.  My family is here.  We have mountains, though not as magnificent as the Smokies.  But do we have oceans!  Some eight minutes away. Pristine shores.  Marshes. Small town.

Vigorous people who get involved.  I am still meeting them and finding my group (s).  Holding the moment.  More than grateful. 

Two worlds. Two places.  Half a dozen passed in one.  The clock is ticking.  I am missing my friend.

Rest in peace, Don.  You rang the bell.

There's A Quiet

There's a quiet in between the chaos and the frenzy.  A place that feels home.  You only have to call it in.  Ahhhhh.  It tastes familiar.  You've been there before.

When you are there, you love it.  You relish the times you find your way here.  It asks nothing, expects nothing.  Says nothing.  Ahhh. 

There is nothing to do, you don't have to be 'productive', you just feel the moment.  And then more moments.  You are totally engulfed in this feeling of oneness. It is soft.  Nurturing.  It brings out all the aspects of you that feel warm and cozy.  The story lines quiet.  The chatter lessens.  You have only the moment.

Now.

Nail Salons Workers Must Speak English!

Maybe you can help me here.  There is nothing like a manicure and pedicure.  I do them regularly.  In the past ten years the industry has gone from English speaking technicians to non-English speaking ones.  It is well nigh rare to find it otherwise.

Often there is one person in the salon who seems to act as the manager. The rest of the staff do not talk.  They behave as though they do not comprehend the vernacular, yet they had to pass a state board licensing test.  To my knowledge, it is still done in English.

Nail techs use scissors.  They use chemicals.  Some of the clients, like me, are allergic to the scrub and the lotions they use on legs and arms.  I suspect some of that is done to the overuse of chemicals to make these products.  This blogger brings her own. I prefer natural, organic ones anyway.

More often than not, even though I have clearly stated not to use their products, they sneak them in.  They act as they are confused.  The manager is silent. I do not return to the salon.

In an industry charged with using hazardous materials, these people must be able to communicate in English.   I wonder how many clients have nail fungus because the technician did not communicate, would not communicate and wants to deny the whole diagnosis. 

Where are the state boards in any of this?

Here Lies A Person

When I was a student at Cornell, I met a couple from Port Elizabeth, South Africa.  They came to the United States to escape apartheid.  The husband was a physics professor, the wife taught math in the public school system.  To continue to live in their homeland would be to live outside of their belief system.

Over the years passed,  we lost touch.  I wondered many times how they felt toward their homeland as things changed there for the better.  I wondered if they had returned to visit. I wondered about the unspoken moments after they spoke about South Africa.

“As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn't leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I'd still be in prison.”

― Nelson Mandela

Mandela went on to say that the greatest tribute to someone who passed was to say,

"Here lies a person who has done his or her duty to his country and to his people." 
R.I. P.

Looking Up: 2013 In Review

Rather than give you my take on the year in review, Belinda Dunn, astrologer, does a wonderful job. She has read my horoscope for years.

2013 Whadda year!                            

Please enjoy the year and the last month in review:

http://www.astrodelight.com/search.html
                              

The Mark Of A Man

The universe has lost a peacemaker.  Nelson Mandela passed.  Age 95. 

South Africa's Nelson Mandela dies

The announcement of Mandela's death was made by President Jacob Zuma

Continue reading the main story

 

South Africa's first black president and anti-apartheid icon Nelson Mandela has died, South Africa's president says.

Mr Mandela, 95, led South Africa's transition from white-minority rule in the 1990s, after 27 years in prison.
He had been receiving intense home-based medical care for a lung infection after three months in hospital.
In a statement on South African national TV, Mr Zuma said Mr Mandela had "departed" and was at peace.

Continue reading the main story

1918 Born in the Eastern Cape
1943 Joined African National Congress
1956 Charged with high treason, but charges dropped after a four-year trial
1962 Arrested, convicted of incitement and leaving country without a passport, sentenced to five years in prison
1964 Charged with sabotage, sentenced to life
1990 Freed from prison
1993 Wins Nobel Peace Prize
1994 Elected first black president
1999 Steps down as leader
2001 Diagnosed with prostate cancer
2004 Retires from public life
2005 Announces his son has died of an HIV/Aids-related illness

"Our nation has lost its greatest son," Mr Zuma said.

He said Mr Mandela would receive a full state funeral, and flags would be flown at half-mast.

The Nobel Peace Prize laureate was one of the world's most revered statesmen after preaching reconciliation despite being imprisoned for 27 years.

He had rarely been seen in public since officially retiring in 2004.

"What made Nelson Mandela great was precisely what made him human. We saw in him what we seek in ourselves," Mr Zuma said.

"Fellow South Africans, Nelson Mandela brought us together and it is together that we will bid him farewell."

UK Prime Minister David Cameron paid tribute to Mr Mandela, saying "a great light has gone out in the world".
Earlier, the BBC's Mike Wooldridge, outside Mr Mandela's home in the Johannesburg suburb of Houghton, said there appeared to have been an unusually large family gathering.

A number of government vehicles were there during the evening as well, our correspondent says.
Since he was released from hospital, the South African presidency repeatedly described Mr Mandela's condition as critical but stable.

Born in 1918, Nelson Mandela joined the African National Congress (ANC) in 1943, as a law student.
He and other ANC leaders campaigned against apartheid (white-only rule).

A look back at the life of Nelson Mandela

He was sentenced to life imprisonment in 1964, but was released in 1990 as South Africa began to move away from strict racial segregation.

He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1993 and was elected South Africa's first black president in 1994. He stepped down after five years in office.

After leaving office, he became South Africa's highest-profile ambassador, campaigning against HIV/Aids and helping to secure his country's right to host the 2010 football World Cup.
He was also involved in peace negotiations in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Burundi and other countries in Africa and elsewhere.

  Nelson Mandela was in Nelson Mandela was in the hospital for nearly three months

 http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-25249520

In his honour, the South Afrikan national anthem:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFW7845XO3g

She Shudda? Really?

She shudda?  Really? And who are you to say?  Violence is everywhere.  It is toward animals, one another, children, women.  It comes from the unconscious, the frightened.  Find your softness.

Please listen:   

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tlb4Pu23kqw

An Honor And A Privilege

"It is an honor and a privilege to live in this unique time with all of you. I appreciate you who stand strong and are willing to think and live outside the box. Every day you do your best to choose Harmony instead of Drama; Truth instead of Illusion; Love instead of Hate; and walk in Authentic Power not over-powering others with faux force. Then when our best is not enough and we fall, we support each other, and we lift each other up. We own the fact that sometimes we are not perfect; yet we also know that we are nothing but divine perfection. It is by living our authentic truth that we raise ourselves up collectively, and thus change the world by being authentic in each moment and continuing the work of restoring peace, harmony, love and true wisdom to all living beings. It is wonderful to know that we walk the same path in so many diverse ways."

Aluna Joy Yaxkin

Octocopters and Amazon: A Little Too Jetson?

Do you love looking up toward the sky? For the most part, it isn't incumbered yet, save comtrails, military equipment, commercial airlines and UFOs.   But can you imagine looking to the dome and seeing commercial optocopters delivering products?  If Amazon has its way, it will. They say they are five years
 away from making this operational.
Remember the tv show, The Jetson's? 


Well, this is a bit too Jetsonian for me.  If you don't know who they are take a listen below:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KtPQEz6In6o

 Amazon.com Inc. is testing drones to deliver goods as the world’s largest e-commerce company works to improve efficiency and speed in getting products to consumers.

 

The Amazon.com Inc. Prime Air octocopter is seen in this undated handout photograph released to the media on Dec. 2, 2013. Source: Amazon.com Inc. via Bloomberg

Dec. 2 (Bloomberg) –- Amazon's business runs on speed, price and customer service. We go inside Amazon's Phoenix 6 fulfillment center to see the technology it takes to keep those little brown boxes moving, from the moment they arrive on a truck to the moment they get packed into a box and shipped out. (Source: Bloomberg)

Chief Executive Officer Jeff Bezos unveiled the plan on CBS’s “60 Minutes” news program in the U.S., showing interviewer Charlie Rose the flying machines that can serve as delivery vehicles. Bezos said the gadgets, called octocopters, can carry as much as 5 pounds within a 10-mile radius of an Amazon fulfillment center. Amazon may start using the drones, which can make a delivery within 30 minutes, within five years pending Federal Aviation Administration approval, Bezos said.

For more info:

http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2013-12-02/amazon-testing-octocopters-for-delivery-ceo-tells-60-minutes-.html

Personally, I think optocopters have some wonderful applications.  But one has to be ethical about their use.  I do worry about our government.  Spying.  And then the individual who is just plain noisy. Spying. 

Here is a super use of an optocopter. One of these photographed my home recently:

Should Amazon be allowed to fly the friendly skies? What do you think? 

Snow People

These are some of my buddies.  Not all.  They are neat because they are all about the season.  Some were made by friends long ago.  Some were acquisitions along the way.  They always put a smile on people's faces.  It doesn't say 'buy a gift' or anything like that.  It just says ENJOY.  

I hope you have an enjoyable season.

You Can't Have Both

Laura Flanders' interviews stream at GRITtv.org. This week, Peter Buffett, son of billionaire investor Warren on the conflict between capitalism and humanism. Says Buffett: "You can't have both."

Peter Buffett argues that philanthropy needs to do a better job of listening. He says that the structure of philanthropy is such that nothing seems to get better, but rather locks existing problems into place.


"Poverty, hunger, the environment, education, health - all those things are symptoms of a larger problem of nobody really wanting to get in there and blow some things up," Buffett says.

For more:

http://www.truth-out.org/news/item/20343-peter-buffett-big-philanthropy-and-philanthro-feudalism

Perspective

So often we see things up close and personal.  We don't see the forest through the trees.  Taking oneself out of the equation works well. 

Yesterday, a dear friend took this aerial photo of my western North Carolina home.  As many of you know, it is up for sale.

What attracted me to this piece of land is the view of the mountains from the front porch and the side porch areas.  The Smokies are gentle, scalloping mountains.  They literally draw you in as do all the mountains in western North Carolina.

The evergreens you see in the front of the house were all planted by me.  Many literally. I planted nearly 1,000 seedlings and dozens of large trees.  Everything is native based. It is a sacred piece of land.  A private retreat.  That is what people seem to love about it.  I often hold meditation classes and workshops in the sunroom.  The entrance is through the side porch. Private.

In years past, so many animals have traversed this land.  Feral cat, coyote, fox, turkey, bear, wolf, opossum, squirrel, eagles, hawks to name a few.  The pass through because it is safe.

Life is all in the perspective.  I am grateful to have this one. 



Things grow fast in this wonderful climate.