That We May Awaken To A New Day

Heavenly Father, our eyes have, at all times, been bent upon the dayspring of Thy loving-kindness, and our faces set towards the fountainhead of Thine inspiration. Rain down, then, upon us from the clouds of Thy mercy what beseemeth the heaven of Thy bounteousness and grace, that we may awaken to a new day. (Painting by Maxfield Parrish)

A Story To Remember

CNN has a remarkable video, and story, of Dr. Sanjay Gupta visiting a woman who doctors say survived two months trapped in the rubble of the Pakistan earthquake. She lay trapped in the kitchen of her home, drank muddy water, and fasted. When they brought her out, she couldn't move or talk. Her muscles had atrophied, and they were washing her for burial...when she opened her eyes, and began to move.

Very Deep, Dark Forest - Hood Canal

We went for a two hour hike today in an old growth forest - just look at that cedar tree! I couldn't see the top of it, it was so high up. The air here is magnificent! It is so fresh...

Resting On The Trail - Hood Canal

When we left for our hike, I had on 4 layers, including mittens and a scarf. By the time we finished our climb, I'd stripped down to my t-shirt. It was misting here, but the tree cover took most of the moisture. Everything was dripping - the ferns, the moss, the evergreens. I was mighty glad for this little bench, as I was quite 'winded'.

Vintage Cabin Signs at 'Old Wood Signs'

When we were children, we had an old cabin in the Belt Mountains of Montana, deep in a national forest. It was a summertime cabin, with a pot bellied stove for warmth, and a long picnic table that provided a quaint view of the countryside. Belt Creek tumbled right outside our door. Sounds like heaven - and to us kids, it was.

Many of the little cabins that dotted our valley were old log cabins, and vacant for most of the year. They were used as fishing cabins, or for a base for hunting. Closed up, shuttered, many saw life for just a few weeks out of the year. One old 'mansion' was a hunting lodge that had elk antlers and deer heads on the high supporting beams. Moose antlers were over the front door.

When we think of ornamental motiffs today, if we aren't hunters or fishermen, there are resources at hand to dress up a wall, and create that feeling of country. You've seen signs like this one above, I'm sure - just about every little cabin has one at the front door. Sometimes hand done, almost always wood, the look conveys the pleasure of country living.

Squirrels, blackbears, elk, trout - those motiffs are a favorite. The pursuit of these little embellishments are available here, at "Old Wood Signs", a company in Bigfork, Montana. They specialize in the old vintage signs of the 40's. Take a look at their selection - you'll find some featuring cabins, boating, fishing, and winter sports.

The Two Medicine - Glacier, Montana

The Two Medicine in Glacier Park is our family's favorite campground. This photo was taken by Bubbie Dear and Oldeupher on one of their trips this past year.

If you are camping late in the season, as this photo shows, it can be very remote, and a bit frightening. Not only are the grizzlies frequent to the area, but strong, sudden storms can blanket a campsite overnight, leaving campers in a quandry.

We've camped here with our family using a motorhome, which allowed a feeling of greater security when camping. Tent camping is common in the summer when all the camping sites are full, and people are present.

I've found a few websites relating to the Two Medicine and hiking in Glacier, and I offer them for extended reading, if you are interested. But, scroll down, you'll find a few personal photos that Bubbie Dear has offered to "Flitzy" for today's reading.

The Moods of Glacier Park

This is Bubbie Dear and Oldeupher climbing in Glacier. She says, "This day we were camped at Many Glacier. The next day the campsite was closed down until spring. "

This time of year the Park sees few visitors and a real sense of isolation could easily overwhelm one---unless the Park is your friend. "

I like to think that a mountain wants you to see it in all its moods, even the monochromatic ones! In winter's chill you can't be distracted by lots of color...you're too busy feeling gusty wind, raw cold, ironic sunshine! And there's nothing like coming "inside" to have a warm cup of coffee! "

All The Little Lives

My sister says,"When I'm an old lady in a nursing home, looking at my photographs of Glacier Park, my mind's eye will not be searching out the grand panoramic shots. My favorite moments in nature have always been the revelations at my feet. Of course, there's a bit of a lesson here. One must watch where one is going!"

"The grand vista can take one's breath away. But such an expanse leaves me wondering where I fit in? When I observe the ordinary and mundane right at my own feet, I see its awesome appeal. I get to feel like one little leaf, one little rock must---and instantly I'm a part of it all."

Will They Keep Coffee Hot?

This is what I'd like to get for a gift - beer steins. I love the art form. The history of Bavarian beer steins can be found here. But, do they keep coffee hot? Thats how I'd use them. Put it right here, on the coffee table.

Black Forest Cuckoo Clock

This is a Black Forest Cuckoo clock, another German art form - this one is the Wood Sawer and Wood Chopper. If I don't get the beer steins, this little, but rather expensive clock would be my next choice. I love them. The history is here.

The Cuckoo clock is a pendulum clock that strike the hours using small bellows and whistles that imitate the call of the cuckoo bird and hit on a wire gong. My only concern about having one here, is it would probably startle our cats, which tear around at the sound of anything resembling a birdcall.

Hummel Figurines

Of all figurines for children, these were perhaps the most famous - the Hummel figures.

"M.I. Hummel products are the result of a successful partnership between W.Goebel Porzellanfabrik and a talented German artist, Sister Maria Innocentia Hummel.

Her images of youthful innocence have been transformed by the Master Artists of Goebel into original M.I. Hummel works of art. Berta Hummel was born in Bavaria in 1909 with a wonderful gift -- an instinct for observing her world and translating her observations into drawings, especially of children.

In 1927, Berta enrolled in Munich's famed Academy of Applied Arts. There her talent matured and survived rigid training with its spontaneity intact.Religion had always been important to Berta. She befriended two Franciscan Sisters from a teaching order that emphasized the arts. Berta decided to enter the Convent of Siessen upon graduation in 1931, and three years later, took the name Maria Innocentia.The young Sister found herself in a setting that encouraged her talents. Soon, small German publishers began printing some of her artwork in the form of postcards. These charming cards came to the attention of Franz Goebel, the head of a porcelain company bearing his name. He was in search of a subject for a new line of figurines. And here it was! Franz Goebel proposed to Sister Hummel the idea of transforming her drawings into figurines. An agreement was reached with the Convent granting Goebel the sole right to create three-dimensional works of art based on Sister Hummel's drawings.

The artist worked personally with Goebel Master Sculptors and Painters to create the new products. The first figurines were introduced in 1935 and were immediately successful. Tragically, Sister Hummel died in 1946 at only 37 years of age. But her artistic legacy was carried on by Goebel. Even today, Goebel artists discuss each new M.I. Hummel work of art with an Artistic Board at the Convent of Siessen. Standards of craftsmanship established more than six decades ago have been strictly preserved. And M.I.Hummel figurines continue to charm the world."

And, If Daisy Were Here

I think a little German doll would be perfect!

The Black Forest - Germany

My ancestors, on my Mother's side, were from Germany. That is where this photo was taken, in the Black Forest. It is a wooded mountain range in southwestern Germany that is bordered by the Rhine valley to the west and south. The name 'Black Forest' comes from the general dark color of the numerous pine trees that grow in this region. Freiburg and Baden-Baden are popular tourist destinations, and it is here that one finds the magnificent cuckoo clocks.

Scheherazade

Dr. Tony, a long-time friend and colleague of George's, presented him with a poem when meeting with him for coffee yesterday. He said the poem was written upon reading 'Flitzy Phoebie' for the first time.

SCHEHERAZADE ~

The story she told was kept
in an old tall building next
to the sea and looking up
from the inside your eyes
slowly adjusting to the dark
you could barely make out
the ceiling except for a tiny
bit of light at the very top
where there was an opening
revealing a small constellation
of stars that happened to
open up to the rest of the
Universe.

Robert Glenn's Book List - Holiday Reading

Friends give books because they need to help you with their thinking. Fortunately, or unfortunately, most of my friends are pleasantly agreeable. Here are some from under our tree:

'Vincent van Gogh, the Drawings.' This is a big fat museum catalogue with lots of illustrations and touching excerpts from Vincent's letters to his brother Theo, and others. We see his life-loving, inventive, optimistic mind as well as technical delights such as the 'perspective frame' that Vincent used for six formative years. This is the book you need for "Vincent 101." It's also a story of enthusiasm and tragedy that comes alive as if it was happening today. And it is happening today--in other places and with other artists. Dreams are made and dreams are lost. We all have our "starry starry night."

'The Biology of Belief' by Bruce H Lipton. This one blew away some of my notions about genetic determinism. It's scientific yet visionary and has food for thought for creative folks by smartly saying 'nonsense' to all forms of victimhood. I kept saying to myself: "We are the artists we make ourselves to be." Health, wealth, wisdom, earth-love and evolution are touched by Lipton's bright mind while he leads us gently to a new understanding of Spirit. The book winds up with his unorthodox but plausible theory of immortality.

'A Writer's Paris,' by Eric Maisel. Here's a bang-on, thoughtful traveler's guide to Paris (or Peoria) that suggests how creative folks might think and act in an enriched or a new environment. The reader feels our compulsion to see and feel at a different level than the standard tourist. It's how we handle our private time, how we look at things, our essential aloneness, our ongoing work, play, work-play and work habits. Practically every paragraph ends with the word "write." Writers write. Painters paint.

'Me Talk Pretty One Day,' by David Sedaris. This first-person narrative by one of today's funniest writers is just loaded with sly and observant humour. His story of his youthful foray into the avant-guarde, conceptual, performance-art groupy game was so wildly goofy and full of truth that it made my cellphone pop off my belt and into a bucket of Phthalo blue. I didn't care. It sits there now, soaking.

Best regards, Robert PS: "Other group members stored their bodily fluids in baby-food jars or wrote cryptic messages on packaged skirt steaks. Their artworks were known as 'pieces,' a phrase I enthusiastically embraced. 'Nice piece,' I'd say. In my eagerness to please, I accidentally complimented chipped baseboards and sacks of laundry waiting to be taken to the cleaners. Anything might be a piece if you looked at it long enough." (David Sedaris)

Go Ahead, Make My Day

Time for love pats, folks. Isn't he grand! Imagine the feelings....

Welcome To Jury Service!

I must say, I was PREPARED! I had gone over on Monday to check out the location - where to enter, where to park. And, when I found everything closed, I thought, "Gee, it isn't a holiday. Why aren't people working!" City Hall was locked up. I pushed on a few doors to see if I was wrong (with the same question, of course), and with everything closed I drove home.

On Tuesday, I drove over again, to check out how to enter and exit. Then I took the elevator down to the Jury selection room, which was open, and I pilfered a few pamphlets that I should have received in the mail. A clerk saw me with a confused look on my face, and asked if she could help, and I said, "I'm just getting my bearings. I have a Jury Summons."

We talked for awhile, and I asked the important questions relating to personal comfort - can I bring a pillow to sit on; can I drink water; what about lunch? I told her I'm unaccustomed to sitting for any longer than about 15 minutes, and, is it O.K. to pace the courtroom? I really couldn't imagine sitting there for 8 hours. She said something to the effect that 'every accommodation is available' for personal comfort.

I went home, packed a lunch, my pillow, stocked up on magazines, orange juice and water, and drove down to City Hall on Wednesday. I parked in the big garage, and went through security check at 8:30 sharp. We watched a video, had a question and answer session, and then we waited for our name to be called for jury duty. That was the hardest part - waiting, waiting, waiting.

I finally picked up a magazine with Gwen Steffani on the cover, a fashion magazine, and started pacing the back of the room, then went in circles around all the chairs. Just reading and pacing. Just about everyone else was asleep, or chins on their chests 'reading'. I never saw such a ragged, sleepy bunch. (A brochure said to dress casual, and any more 'casual' would have been sweats, pajamas and bathrobes.)

It was over an hour and a half of waiting, so I put the magazine down, and decided to pace the hallway. After all, a guy can pull his stretched out legs back for you only about 30 times before he is going to just encourage you to step over them....what the heck.

The 'great room' had tables for information, and there was an espresso corner. Side doors led into halls where every door had a judges name on it - about 12 judges here. There were papers taped onto the door - court cases, who was being tried, or offices where business took place. Oh the mystery - misdemeanor criminal cases; traffic, non-traffic, and parking infractions; domestic violence protection orders; civil actions of $50,000 or less; and small claims court. The Superior Court handled civil matters, domestic relations, felony criminal cases, juvenile matters, and appeals from courts of limited jurisdiction. (Not that I knew just what you had to do to place yourself in the proximity of such a court.)

There was another wing that I explored that gave some kind of counseling services to a family member for $10.00 if they are not handling things well (temper or rage or something). I looked in that room to see a little table with 2 chairs, as well as the comfortable seating for the parents. I thought, "Who in their right mind would bring small children here?" Well, no answers there, the room was vacant, and as I pulled back from it, there, right on the glass door was a big sign that I had failed to notice: DO NOT STARE IN HERE! THAT IS RUDE! ...oh, dear.

I proceeded back to the Jury Selection room and got out a Conde Nast "Traveler", and looked at pictures of France, and decided to sit down. Two hours of this had refreshed most of the napping jury-seekers, and a few were blinking awake. The secretary got up in front of all of us, made the announcement of who was selected, and then told all of us to not discuss the case. She said we'd get $10.00 a day for our work, but if you didn't get here early, you'd not find a parking place in the garage, and it would be $6.00 a day just to park your vehicle out in the 'overflow lot'. Cappachinos would be an extra $3.50. Then, she said we'd be called for duty for a two week period... Oh, heaven forbid.

She rattled on, "Don't draw straws, flip coins, or otherwise arrive at your verdict by chance, or the decision will be illegal. Don't try to guess what might happen if the case you have heard is appealed, and DO work out differences between yourself and other jurors through complete and fair discussions of the evidence and of the judge's instructions. DON'T lose your temper, try to bully, or refuse to listen to the opinions of other jurors...."

She ended with, "Don't talk about the case, or issues raised by the case with anyone, including other jurors, while the trial is going on, and don't even talk to your family about it! So, I will close with this: "Read my lips.... "

Attunement to God, Self, and Others

This is a powerpoint discussion , (brief), that shows effective ways of integrating who, what, where, when, and how - a lesson on the brain as a tool for transcendance.

The Diary Of A Goosegirl

The Diary of a Goose Girl by Kate Douglas Wiggin was written in 1902. It is a wonderful story, not too long, and can be read here, at Mother Goose.com.:

"Thornycroft House must have belonged to a country gentleman once upon atime, or to more than one; men who built on a bit here and there once ina hundred years, until finally we have this charmingly irregular anddilapidated whole. You go up three steps into Mrs. Heaven's room, downtwo into mine, while Phoebe's is up in a sort of turret with long, narrowlattices opening into the creepers. There are crooked littlestair-cases, passages that branch off into other passages and leadnowhere in particular; I can't think of a better house in which to playhide and seek on a wet day. In front, what was once, doubtless, a green,is cut up into greens; to wit, a vegetable garden, where the onions,turnips, and potatoes grow cosily up to the very door-sill; theutilitarian aspect of it all being varied by some scarlet-runners and ascattering of poppies on either side of the path."

"The Belgian hares have their habitation in a corner fifty feet distant;one large enclosure for poultry lies just outside the sweetbrier hedge;the others, with all the houses and coops, are in the meadow at the back,where also our tumbler pigeons are kept."

On My Way To City Hall

Wwwell, now, I've never done this before - a Jury Summons. Duty Awaits! Will they pick me? We'll find out!

An Impermanence By Any Other Name

"The Nonist" has an interesting post about the angst of blogging, its purpose, what drives and disappoints the blogger, how it takes on a life of its own. I've enjoyed the entries, and will link it here, just as a service to any reader that struggles with this virtual art form (as all of us do). Everything is there - just fascinating. Kudos to Jamie Morrison, the talented artist and writer. He writes:

An impermanence by any other name:
in the past few months i’ve made what might be the mistake of seeing a whole slew of art documentaries. sculptors, architects, old masters, modernist painters, etc, the result of which is a childish longing for some kind of permanence. a desire to abandon all this intangible digital noodling and get the old hands dirty. create something physical. to quote paul mccartney, “get back to where you once belonged.” i perceive permanence on a sliding scale with sculptors and architects at the top and all forms of digital content at the very bottom. i need only look to my piles of dusty syquests and jazz disks to be reminded of where all the hard work can end up. but then as friends are quick to remind me it’s all impermanent in the long run, every last bit of it, nothing excepted. and they are right, of course, it is. and yet there is a satisfaction in laboring through a painting that no amount of digital tomfoolery can attain. stack 778 blog entries on their sides, throw in a portfolio’s worth of digital illustrations, and the whole mess doesn’t weigh as much as a set of bare stretcher bars.

As time goes by:
an interesting fact about blogging- a blog is like a child. your own child. you pass your dna on to it. it has your strengths and your weaknesses. i’ve found that all the over analyzing i do in regards to my own function and purpose, i now do to the the nonist as well. i worry about it. i am disappointed by it. i admire it from across the room. the site is often depressive like it’s father. also as it gets older, as possibilities narrow each day and it becomes itself, i find it harder to control. as it has grown and brought in more readers i have had a harder time with it. a harder time understanding it. a harder time guiding it. i’ve always wanted it to strike out on its own, but it remains the strange, uncommunicative child who lives in the basement, drawing it’s allowance but rarely confiding in me.

Travel the World with Putumayo (2004)

Renowned world music label Putumayo presents a collection of music videos and concert footage from some of the best singers, songwriters, and musicians around the globe. Features Brazil's Chico Cesar and Rita Ribeiro, Senegal's Tukuleur and Toure Kunda, Czech gypsy singer Vera Bila, Egyptian pop sensation Hisham Abbas, and many more.

Putumayo World Music was established in 1993 to introduce people to the music of the world's cultures. The label grew out of the Putumayo clothing company, founded by Dan Storper in 1975 and sold in 1997. They write:

"In the past ten years, Putumayo World Music has become known primarily for its upbeat and melodic compilations of great international music characterized by the company's motto: “guaranteed to make you feel good!” Putumayo’s CD covers feature the distinctive art of Nicola Heindl, whose colorful, folkloric style represents one of Putumayo's goals: to connect the traditional to the contemporary. By combining appealing music and visuals with creative retail marketing, Putumayo has developed a unique brand identity - a rarity in today's artist-based music industry."

Interested in the music? Here is World Music Radio, where you can listen to Putumayo music:

1. Ricardo Lemvo & Makina Loca - "Mambo Yo Yo" (Congo)
2. Chico Cesar - "Mama Africa" (Brazil)
3. Vera Bila and Kale - "Pas O Panori" (Czech Republic)
4. Gotan Project - "Santa Maria (Del Buen Ayre)" (Argentina/France)
5. Tukuleur - "Afrika" (Senegal)
6. Toure Kunda - "Rapada" (Senegal)
7. Mary Jane Lamond - "Bog a'Lochain" (Canada)
8. Bidinte - "Ke Cu Minino Na Tchora" (Guinea-Bissau)
9. Oliver Mtukudzi - "Ndakuvara" (Zimbabwe)
10. Rita Ribeiro - "Filhos da Precisao" (Brazil)
11. Kotoja - "Sawale" (Nigeria)
12. Hisham Abbas with Jayashree - "Nari Nari" (Egypt/India)
Live Concert Footage:
1. Oliver Mtukudzi - "Hear Me Lord" (Zimbabwe)
2. Habib Koite - "Wassiye" (Mali)

Don't Take My Boop - A - Doo Away!

She's still all the rage, with her spit curls from the 1930's, her wide eyes and pouty mouth. Her history is here, and should you be in the mood for a song, you can find it here. I love Betty Boop, I hope you will too.

Little Lulu and Chubby Tubby

Whether she's weaving hilarious, sprawling tales while babysitting the terrible tot Alvin, keeping her chubby chum Tubby and his clubhouse cronies in line, or making nice with the friendly ghost she catches reading "People Stories" in her bedroom, Little Lulu is both "Everygirl" and an undeniable one-of-a-kind! I remember reading Little Lulu when I was in the 4th grade, and still bought her cartoon magazines through junior high school.

Marjorie Henderson Buell, the creator of Little Lulu, signed her cartoon “Marge”. It went from a one-panel cartoon in 1935 into an international marketing sensation. February 2005 signals Little Lulu’s 70th anniversary of cartoon success.

Bring On The Spinach, Cowboy

Popeye the Sailor Man has been a favorite cartoon character for generations. Popeye is uncouth, an underdog, with a long fuse and a keen sense of fair play. Everyone identifies with Popeye when he finally says, "Thas' all I can stands, 'cause I can't stands no more!"

And then there is Olive Oyl - flat as a board, with a pickle shaped nose and a fickle heart. Between the two of them, they were featured in over 600 cartoons - they've been together for 67 years. She was supposed to be twenty-nine years old, stand five foot ten inches, and weigh ninety-six pounds. Her shoe size was a non-existent 14-AAAAAA.

You can see Popeye, Olive Oyl, Brutus, Swee' Pea and other favorite characters from the 1930s through the 1950s on a movie site here, free. Check out 'Popeye The Sailor Meets Ali Baba's Forty Theives', Little Swee' Pea', and 'Poop Deck Pappy'. History here...

If We Are The Potential of What Could Be

If you've been reading "Flitzy" lately, you've noticed that my family enjoys the subject of religion - those ultimate questions. We enjoy plunging into discussions, and turning many things inside out. There is the question of "what if's" or "what would be the possibilities if..."

I received a nice e-mail from Mel, my neice, who opens up worlds of thought for me. She says, "Maybe we aren't meant to evolve past this religion phase because as a race we are now so inferior in so many ways. We got hung up early on stuff that stalled out a kind of progress...look at the tree cutter ants, or the honey bee. If we could just focus like the tree cutter ant. Or fly like a flock of birds that all change course with no words. Or, the schools of fish that swim in patterns for self preservation. If we get our act together, maybe we will be worth what is next, but as a race we are pretty shallow right now, and have been. We thinned the gene pool repeatedly with war. We made our environment toxic to ourselves. We've gotten hung up on being off course."

Mel says, "Only the strong prevail. 'Survivor 'has showed a lot. History, books, and nature,too. The unknown in its self shows the most." And if we are the potential of what could be... that is, if God created us in his own image, where would that take us? What would we become?

A flower can evolve to attract a bee to it's pollen, or an Octopi can change it's flesh, color and texture to protect itself and hide on the ocean floor, or a moth can look exactly like the tree it rests upon. Man must attempt a better understanding of his capacity, potential and purpose, and if he cannot, as Mel says, "then, good riddance. That is what must happen to anything that inferior. It must die out rather than be able to pollute the greater pool that is out there - gene pool, universal pool, whatever."

She finishes with, "The human brain is so 'not done'. We are such babies. Look at all that majesty. Who do we think we are? Until we focus our potential as a whole, we are just another living thing. Something that can go extinct very easily, and probably should, as of now. What will the next 100 years bring? Thats the bugger. We won't be HERE to watch it, but if we do prevail then we were obviously on the right path."

I'll add, that if we do grasp those ultimate questions, probe and care, we will be ready, for what happens next.

Built By Hand - Photo by Yoshio Komatsu

This photo is from a book I have called "Built By Hand - Vernacular Buildings Around the World" by Bill Steen, Athena Steen and Eiko Komatsu. Isn't that a remarkable shelter, under a big rock!

A pastime of mine is researching and drawing dwellings from all over the world. This is one of my resource books. It traces the transformatin of materials such as earth, stone, wood or bamboo into shelters that are both stationary and moveable. Beginning with the most basic ways that human beings have shought shelter - beneath trees and stars, under the protection of a rock cliff or cave, it looks at some of the questions that modern man must ask in finding a balance between the know-how and wisdom of the past with that which is sustainable today.

In Galicia, Spain, a photo shows a small, remote mountain village made of unmortared (dry stack) stone. Because of snowfall in winter, balconies are a dominant architectural feature. They hang over muddy streets. The photo above, taken in Monsanto, Portugal, is a rock within a rock, a house built beneath a boulder. In Fadiout, Senegal, there are homes built out of blocks of sea shells on 'Shell Island' - they used what was available. There are photos of grass-thatched huts in Ethiopia, and circular palm frond huts in Venezuela - called 'churuatas', which house as many as 20 family members.

If my house were to catch on fire, this book would be the first book I would struggle to save. It has taught me that a home can be made from anything handy, that beauty and usefulness can come from simple things. (please touch down on 'the gallery' in the link above, and you can see outstanding examples of indigenous dwellings).

Praying At Peraliya - Sri Lanka

This is Sattayapala praying today at the site where his wife lost her life in the Dec. 26 tsunami at Peraliya, Sri Lanka. The raging waves swept a passenger train from its tracks, killing nearly 2,000.

I remember that day a year ago. In fact, we were standing on an Oregon beach, watching the ocean. I was filming the power of the waves, and feeling so awed by the force of the ocean. On that morning, December 26, 2004, I was to learn that a powerful tsunami, had hit Indonesia, leaving over 200,000 people dead. It was the worst natural disaster ever recorded.

I couldn't help but wonder, what other natural disasters have taken human life - disasters we haven't even yet discovered, because they occured thousands of years ago - volcanic eruptions, meteor impacts, earthquakes. And, tsunamis.

Recently, we were watching a National Geographic Special on the lost continent of Atlantis, which presents abundant theories for Atlantis, one of which is that tsunamis caused it to become submerged. (The Greek philosopher Plato had attempted to write a trilogy in 355, discussing the nature of man, the creation of the world, and the story of Atlantis). I couldn't help but wonder, how many stories are there, about human suffering, thousands of them, and no one to recall them.

Ruhiyyih In A Holiday Spirit

Ruhiyyih's role in the family this last 26 years has been "the party planner". She does everything - the calling, the decorations, baking, cooking ... you name it. Parties just don't happen unless she is in the mix.

Oh Yes, A Slinky and a Speak 'N' Spell

What ever they got, they shared. And, would I love to go back 20 years ago and give them more big squeezes? Most definitely so! Rahmat, the quiet one, on the left; Taraz, Mr. Hyper-Active, on the right. (Thanks to Bubbie for photos).

Remembering The Extraordinary

I hope everyone is recovering from the abundant labors of making a holiday memorable. Just going through some of my reading here on the web, I marvel at how all of us strive to make our holiday memorable.

Maybe it is a quiet walk in the woods after a Christmas dinner, or counting blessings as we age. Even then, as our options narrow and we become more feeble, we note that other family members take over to do the work of celebrating and decorating. We are left, remembering the uncommon moments, seeing the extraordinary. Which brings me to an old memory:

Because George and I are Baha'is, we don't celebrate in traditional ways. We've had only one real celebration, with a tree and gifts. That occurred about 13 years ago, when our boys came home telling us that The Boys and Girls Club of Tacoma had picked our name as one of the recipients of their Christmas 'Gift to Deserving Families' program - in other words, a gift of charity from one of the local churches.

The Boys and Girls Club was the place for our four children to play after school. They were there for several hours until George could pick them up after work, at 6:00 p.m. They were 5, 7, 9, and 11 when they first started going there, and they played there until we moved away. They had structured activities, swimming, basket ball, fooseball, art projects - just all kinds of activity, and our kids loved it. And, they were there everyday.

So, our kids knew a good thing, when one of them saw the request for names for a free Christmas dinner, a tree, and a few gifts....one of them submitted our family's name! Opportunists are in the making here, and it spoke Taraz's favorite word - FREE!

When the big day arrived, and the lady from the church arrived, she brought over the best Christmas my kids had ever had. We were given a tree, decorations, presents and a turkey dinner with all the trimmings. When she was about to leave, I thanked her, mentioning that we had never celebrated Christmas before. I explained that we were of a different Faith. I remember she was loving and gracious, perhaps a little surprised that she wasn't forewarned. I wondered if she regretted that we were the recipients. Perhaps a devoted Christian family would have been more deserving, and I asked her about that.

She responded as I would have, saying that "the love of Christ for all of God's children is the spirit of Christmas". And, I've always known that to be true.

Two of my children - Ruhiyyih and my oldest son, Ruh (married to Annie), are Christian. The other three children - Laurel, Taraz, and Rahmat, are Baha'is. It is a great mix of everything, making for many family gatherings and celebrations. We will be celebrating the New Year together on January 1st, then again on March 21st, the first day of spring.

Doorways - Fort Flagler - Washington

We had every intention of canoeing during our Christmas weekend, but strong winds and rain prevented that. We went exploring, and drove up north to old Fort Flagler. It rests on a high bluff overlooking Puget Sound, with views of the Olympic and Cascade Mountains. Many historic old buildings still stand at this 19th century-established military fort. I walked around, photographing the old paint, latches and doors, as well as the old military gun-batteries built into the earth. Take a few moments, scroll down, and catch glimpses of Puget Sound.

Exploring the Past at Fort Flagler

This old building at Fort Flagler was completely abandoned. I walked around the porch. Even the pigeons, whose droppings were under the eves, had vanished. The wind was blowing, not a soul was in sight - not a welcoming place. George drove around, while I explored.

Ancient Hinges and Doorways

I love old paint, especially when it shows weather and is peeling. The buildings at Fort Flagler had many coats of old paint, and needed another.

Old Mortar Battery and Old Paint

Storms Pounding Puget Sound

We drove around the south end of Indian Island, to do a little hiking, then drove down to Mystery Bay. When the weather is better we'll come back here for a paddle.

We listened to Garrison Keillor on "Prairie Home Companion". His shows are always part of our trips; this was his Christmas lineup:

"This weekend we'll gather East and West in a joyful Christmas broadcast from the Town Hall in New York City. With special guests: the legendary Blues singer Odetta, three brilliant voices from the Metropolitan and New York City Operas—Janez Lotric and Jennifer Rivera. Also featuring Czech father and daughter duo, Stanislav and Kristina Kotyza. And from the Ukraine, the Paulishyn sisters—ages eleven and thirteen—accompanied by Alla Kutsevych on the amazing Bandura (the national instrument of Ukraine). All of this, plus the Royal Academy of Radio Acting, The Guy's All-Star Shoe Band with Andy Stein, and the News from Lake Wobegon. "

Birth Place of Jesus - Bethlehem

“Glory to God in the Highest, and on earth Peace, goodwill towards men!”

Christmas Message from the Mayor of Bethlehem .

She's Ready! And, She's Been Good!

We stopped to visit my daughter-in-law, Annie today, to drop off our gifts and some goodies. This is my grand-daughter, Daisy, and I can assure Santa that she has been good ..... (Can you tell I'm a proud grandma?)

Splish Splash I Was Takin' A Bath

All about a Saturday night, ooh
Rub-a-dub, just relaxin' in the tub
Thinkin' everything was alright
Then I stepped out the tub
Put my feet on the floor
Wrapped my towel around me
I opened the door
And then-a Splish-Splash,
I jumped back in the bath
How was I to know there was a party goin' on!

This is what the busboys, dishwashers and waitstaff got at the restaurant where Rahmat works....

Wishing You A Peaceful Glide

I wish everyone who reads "Flitzy Phoebie" the very best of the holiday season. George and I will be out canoeing, doing what we love, rain, shine, or snow.... a thermos of hot cocoa, hiking boots, and our lunch, and we're on our way.

Christmas Eve Letter - First World War

My dear sister Janet,

It is 2:00 in the morning and most of our men are asleep in their dugouts -- yet I could not sleep myself before writing to you of the wonderful events of Christmas Eve. In truth, what happened seems almost like a fairy tale, and if I hadn't been through it myself, I would scarce believe it. Just imagine: While you and the family sang carols before the fire there in London, I did the same with enemy soldiers here on the battlefields of France!

As I wrote before, there has been little serious fighting of late. The first battles of the war left so many dead that both sides have held back until replacements could come from home. So we have mostly stayed in our trenches and waited.

But what a terrible waiting it has been! Knowing that any moment an artillery shell might land and explode beside us in the trench, killing or maiming several men. And in daylight not daring to lift our heads above ground, for fear of a sniper's bullet.

And the rain -- it has fallen almost daily. Of course, it collects right in our trenches, where we must bail it out with pots and pans. And with the rain has come mud -- a good foot or more deep. It splatters and cakes everything, and constantly sucks at our boots. One new recruit got his feet stuck in it, and then his hands too when he tried to get out -- just like in that American story of the tar baby!

Through all this, we couldn't help feeling curious about the German soldiers across the way. After all, they faced the same dangers we did, and slogged about in the same muck. What's more, their first trench was only 50 yards from ours. Between us lay No Man's Land, bordered on both sides by barbed wire -- yet they were close enough we sometimes heard their voices.

Of course, we hated them when they killed our friends. But other times, we joked about them and almost felt we had something in common. And now it seems they felt the same.

Just yesterday morning -- Christmas Eve Day -- we had our first good freeze. Cold as we were, we welcomed it, because at least the mud froze solid. Everything was tinged white with frost, while a bright sun shone over all. Perfect Christmas weather.

During the day, there was little shelling or rifle fire from either side. And as darkness fell on our Christmas Eve, the shooting stopped entirely. Our first complete silence in months! We hoped it might promise a peaceful holiday, but we didn't count on it. We'd been told the Germans might attack and try to catch us off guard.

I went to the dugout to rest, and lying on my cot, I must have drifted asleep. All at once my friend John was shaking me awake, saying, "Come and see! See what the Germans are doing!" I grabbed my rifle, stumbled out into the trench, and stuck my head cautiously above the sandbags.

I never hope to see a stranger and more lovely sight. Clusters of tiny lights were shining all along the German line, left and right as far as the eye could see.

"What is it?" I asked in bewilderment, and John answered, "Christmas trees!"

And so it was. The Germans had placed Christmas trees in front of their trenches, lit by candle or lantern like beacons of good will.

And then we heard their voices raised in song.

"Stille nacht, heilige nacht...."

This carol may not yet be familiar to us in Britain, but John knew it and translated: "Silent night, holy night." I've never heard one lovelier -- or more meaningful, in that quiet, clear night, its dark softened by a first-quarter moon.

When the song finished, the men in our trenches applauded. Yes, British soldiers applauding Germans! Then one of our own men started singing, and we all joined in.

"The first Nowell, the angel did say...."

In truth, we sounded not nearly as good as the Germans, with their fine harmonies. But they responded with enthusiastic applause of their own and then began another.

"O Tannenbaum, o Tannenbaum...."

Then we replied.

"O come all ye faithful...."

But this time they joined in, singing the same words in Latin.

"Adeste fideles...."

British and German harmonizing across No Man's Land! I would have thought nothing could be more amazing -- but what came next was more so.

"English, come over!" we heard one of them shout. "You no shoot, we no shoot."

There in the trenches, we looked at each other in bewilderment. Then one of us shouted jokingly, "You come over here."

To our astonishment, we saw two figures rise from the trench, climb over their barbed wire, and advance unprotected across No Man's Land. One of them called, "Send officer to talk."

I saw one of our men lift his rifle to the ready, and no doubt others did the same -- but our captain called out, "Hold your fire." Then he climbed out and went to meet the Germans halfway. We heard them talking, and a few minutes later, the captain came back with a German cigar in his mouth!

"We've agreed there will be no shooting before midnight tomorrow," he announced. "But sentries are to remain on duty, and the rest of you, stay alert."

Across the way, we could make out groups of two or three men starting out of trenches and coming toward us. Then some of us were climbing out too, and in minutes more, there we were in No Man's Land, over a hundred soldiers and officers of each side, shaking hands with men we'd been trying to kill just hours earlier!

Before long a bonfire was built, and around it we mingled -- British khaki and German grey. I must say, the Germans were the better dressed, with fresh uniforms for the holiday.

Only a couple of our men knew German, but more of the Germans knew English. I asked one of them why that was.

"Because many have worked in England!" he said. "Before all this, I was a waiter at the Hotel Cecil. Perhaps I waited on your table!"

"Perhaps you did!" I said, laughing.

He told me he had a girlfriend in London and that the war had interrupted their plans for marriage. I told him, "Don't worry. We'll have you beat by Easter, then you can come back and marry the girl."

He laughed at that. Then he asked if I'd send her a postcard he'd give me later, and I promised I would.

Another German had been a porter at Victoria Station. He showed me a picture of his family back in Munich. His eldest sister was so lovely, I said I should like to meet her someday. He beamed and said he would like that very much and gave me his family's address.

Even those who could not converse could still exchange gifts -- our cigarettes for their cigars, our tea for their coffee, our corned beef for their sausage. Badges and buttons from uniforms changed owners, and one of our lads walked off with the infamous spiked helmet! I myself traded a jackknife for a leather equipment belt -- a fine souvenir to show when I get home.

Newspapers too changed hands, and the Germans howled with laughter at ours. They assured us that France was finished and Russia nearly beaten too. We told them that was nonsense, and one of them said, "Well, you believe your newspapers and we'll believe ours."

Clearly they are lied to -- yet after meeting these men, I wonder how truthful our own newspapers have been. These are not the "savage barbarians" we've read so much about. They are men with homes and families, hopes and fears, principles and, yes, love of country. In other words, men like ourselves. Why are we led to believe otherwise?

As it grew late, a few more songs were traded around the fire, and then all joined in for -- I am not lying to you -- "Auld Lang Syne." Then we parted with promises to meet again tomorrow, and even some talk of a football match.

I was just starting back to the trenches when an older German clutched my arm. "My God," he said, "why cannot we have peace and all go home?"

I told him gently, "That you must ask your emperor."

He looked at me then, searchingly. "Perhaps, my friend. But also we must ask our hearts."

And so, dear sister, tell me, has there ever been such a Christmas Eve in all history? And what does it all mean, this impossible befriending of enemies?

For the fighting here, of course, it means regrettably little. Decent fellows those soldiers may be, but they follow orders and we do the same. Besides, we are here to stop their army and send it home, and never could we shirk that duty.

Still, one cannot help imagine what would happen if the spirit shown here were caught by the nations of the world. Of course, disputes must always arise. But what if our leaders were to offer well wishes in place of warnings? Songs in place of slurs? Presents in place of reprisals? Would not all war end at once?

All nations say they want peace. Yet on this Christmas morning, I wonder if we want it quite enough.

Your loving brother, Tom

(Hat tip to Oldeupher)

A Christmas Tribute in Music

I'd like to direct your attention over to "The PC Free Zone" for her tribute to those who serve in the military, who are far from home. It was so beautifully written - and she has some music that she plays on the piano, as background to the text. It was beautiful. I quote from her post:

"This time of year is the hardest of all and for the loved ones at home as well. Those that wish---- oh they wish so much to just touch the one they love. To hold each other close through the night and know when morning comes all will be well. Their hearts are filled with loneliness but also a hope that comes from deep within and sent with continued prayer that this will be the last Christmas away from each other. And next year, oh yes next year they will spend Christmas together."

(A hat tip to GuyK for the link)

All The Widdle Birds In Heaven Sing Sing Sing

"Every little swallow, every chickadee
Every little bird in the tall oak tree
The wise old owl, the big black crow
Flapping them wings sayin' go bird go.... " Rockin' Robin"
That's what I was humming when I helped Rahmat move all his stuff into his new apartment - into the Walker Building. He's flyin' the coop!

His is the only studio apartment that has ornate window boxes, and you can see him peeking out of his closet window - the other windows are the main room and kitchen nook. WE plan on putting geraniums in pots up there - he plans to take good care of them.

The top photo is of the parakeets in two cages in the loby; the other photo is the old, formal front entrance that leads into a foyer, then a lobby. He will spend his first night alone in his new home tonight. I'll be taking a tin of chocolate chip cookies and banana bread over to him tomorrow, as a home-warming gift.

Rahmat Looking Down From On High

But Wait, I Can Get It Cheaper At...

We had to take advantage of the holiday sales at Target, where Rahmat got a microwave, toaster, and blender. Then, we drove over to the Goodwill, where he got a nice easy chair, then a pole lamp at K-Mart, and groceries at Fred Meyer. I would have taken him to the dollar store to load up on a few plates and silverware...but that will have to wait until tomorrow.

He and I have very different shopping styles - I make lists, and prioritize so I get the important stuff first, before I give out. He is more impulsive and distracted. If I hadn't been there, he would have purchased most of the non-essentials before he even thought about what he was going to sleep on. Fortunately, he is open to suggestions, and took my advice most of the time - it's all a learning thing. For example, when we were in the grocery store, he went to buy a $1.50 avacado. I said, "Are you sure you want to spend $1.50 for one ounce of fiber? You've got to peel off the skin, then remove the huge seed...what's left?" He put it back!

Our Most Remembered Gifts of Caring

THE GIFT OF LISTENING

THE GIFT OF AFFECTION

THE GIFT OF LAUGHTER

THE GIFT OF A WRITTEN NOTE

THE GIFT OF A COMPLIMENT

THE GIFT OF A FAVOR

THE GIFT OF SOLITUDE

THE GIFT OF A CHEERFUL DISPOSITION

OH! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!

Now, repeat after me: I will have a - CHEERFUL DISPOSITION. (thanks to Oldeupher for the photos)

Miss-Using Words, Is She?

Which is it 'Volumptuous' or 'Voluptuous' Some voluptuous women may be lumpy, but please avoid this Freudian slip that apprises them of it.

And there is 'silicone' and 'silicon'. Silicon is the material they make computer chips from but implants are made of silicone.

Just as "misspelling" is among the most commonly misspelled words, "pronunciation" is among the most commonly mispronounced words. Fitting, no?

How do you figure 'irregardless' with 'regardless'? Less" already says ''without'' so there is no need to repeat the same sentiment with "ir-."

Oh my, will we ever get any of this straight. Now that Dr. Language has provided a one-stop cure for the plague of misspelling, here are 100 words most often mispronounced. Now, if I could work on my spelling...

What Artists Want - By Robert Glenn

I may be totally wrong on this one. I'm thinking that artists are among those who don't really want to receive too many gifts for the Holiday Season. It may have something to do with the overabundance of joy in our daily lives--or the consequent guilt that arises, but we artists, by and large, are not into materialism. At this time of year there is little that we might covet.

Actually, this year the only thing that I want is one of those radio-controlled tarantulas. And that's hardly a gift--it's entertainment for others--controlled by me of course--perhaps to set off drama among the nieces. They are nice nieces. "Funny Uncle Bob," I'll hear them scream when my radio-controlled tarantula haltingly emerges from under the Christmas tree. "They come in with shipments of Bolivian trees," I'll tell them. The little darlings. But I digress.

The only thing that I can ever remember really craving was the know-how to do a decent painting. I'd seen what the really great painters could do. For my stocking I wanted a zapper--perhaps a pill or an easily gulped liquid. Picasso chutzpah, Sargent talent, Monet joy. Put this stuff in bottles and you could name your price. Pop one just before stepping into the studio, and "Schazzam," I'd be the wizard I always knew I was.

Actually, I think these twice weekly letters are like little silent pills--some that work for one and not another--or that work one time and not the next. "What a bunch of pap," wrote one subscriber after my recent letter about creativity and love. She unsubscribed from the freebee. That's the good thing about giving a gift. No one ever complains about the price.

But I digress. We don't need stuff. We need ideas and energy and subjects and motivation and time and lots of other things that can't be bought and are not sold at Wal-Mart. Happiness is not under the Christmas tree but somewhere in the air above it. It doesn't stick to traditional dates or statutory holidays. It can sometimes be found on the most ordinary of Thursdays. Sometimes it just blows in like a swallow in December. Sometimes when you want it most you can't have it. And sometimes you're up to your elbows.

That's why we don't need regular stuff. We're into bigger stuff. And if we need tools or paint or clay or something we just go out and buy it anyway. Which reminds me, I'm outa here--last minute stuff.

Learning To Replace A Button

My son, Taraz, is 22, and learning how to .....sew! Not that he is good with needle and thread, but, he's got to replace 3 buttons on his coat if he wants to wear it this winter. We went over to Hancock Fabrics, and he found buttons to match the one that remained on his coat. Now, I will show him, only once, how to securely wrap the thread around a sewn button. While checking out the buttons, I checked out the embroidery yarn, pictured above.

Holiday Shopping With My Son

My son, Taraz, and I headed over to Ross's to check out holiday gifts - that place was packed with shoppers. We like the place because it always has nice bargans, reasonable prices. And, their glassware and china is great. We've bought several large ornate vases here that you'd think belonged in a museum. Just gorgeous. And, well, Taraz enjoys adding another teapot to his collection.

They Were Taught Well - Bargan Hunting

When we were raising our five children, it seemed like there was never enough money to go around - and there wasn't. They all were in the habit of borrowing each other's clothes, wearing each others shoes, and even trading coats and sweaters. In other words, I fostered the concept of Hand-Me-Downs.

George taught them all to shop at discount shops, like Ross, and I took them DOWN a step further, to look for bargans at the Goodwill. My oldest son, when he married at 18, was able to furnish his apartment using stuff from there. Which reminds me of a coat he was wearing at the time - the last coat I ever bought him. I sewed a heavy blanket lining inside it, when the old lining wore out.

Today, when Taraz and I were shopping, we dropped by the Goodwill, and I found a perfectly good toaster for $2.00...and that is good, as they last about two months here before someone takes a baseball bat to them. This one has a nice little "Betty Crocker" label - I hope she will survive. However, with my son Rahmat moving out in a couple days, and Taraz soon to follow, the toaster stands a fair chance of survival here.

The Love of a Dove - Children's Stories

One very special symbol that artists use in their paintings is the dove. It stands for the idea of peace and love. In ancient Greek myths, Aphrodite,the goddess of love, kept a dove as a pet. The dove became a symbol for love. Later, Christians used the dove to symbolize the Holy Ghost. Artists often painted a dove above Christ's head, and we use this symbol today to say "Peace On Earth".

"The Mouse and the Light" is a Peace Fable for children of all ages. I quote the beginning here:

"In the center of the most beautiful garden in the world stood the Tree of Wisdom. From this great tree there grew many branches and leaves. It spread its roots throughout the land. The tree was a place of comfort. Creatures would often come to it and sit in its shade and feel its great truths.
For many years there was harmony. Then one day a shade from one long branch decided that it was not happy.
The shade did not wish to give comfort or shelter.
"Fools," cried the shade as it spread beneath the tree. "I know more than any of them. I am not made to serve. I should rule over everything."
And so it was that in pride and hatred the shade tugged and pulled and stretched itself until at last it was able to break its attachment to the great tree.
It became the first shadow.
Instead of using its power to give shade, it created a cold darkness that blinded all those it touched to the truth."

"Imagine Peace" is a storytelling project of the Peace Jungle Network :

"The purpose of the Peace Jungle Network is to light lamps of peace, share them as widely as possible and pass them from generation to generation. We do that by bringing together music and storytelling for peace from many different spiritual and cultural traditions to help us appreciate the one truth within them all. The ultimate goal is to help each and every one of us contribute our unique piece of the peace by finding and fulfilling our life purpose."

When I was researching children's stories on doves, I found a story for children, in the post below, called "The Story of Two Doves" by Mehdi Yazdi. I wish I could read Farsi, to know what the story says... and I'll present it here, just because the writing is so beautiful.

The Story of Two Doves - by Mehdi Yazdi

Sebgatullah Seydaoglu - Living With Doves

Sebgatullah Seydaoglu, who lives in Ankara, Turkey, together with dozens of doves, has collected his poems, written in Kurdish and Turkish, in his book entitled “Firat u Dicle” (“The Euphrates and the Tigris”). He wrote his poems with an emotional reaction oriented toward his childhood in Turkey. He writes:

"For 44 years, I’ve been a living witness to what’s happened in Diyarbakir and Mesopotamia. My intent with “Dicle-Firat” was that the sufferings that people have endured not be disregarded. There was a sense of responsibility to try to convey these sufferings in these lines. Why do those who’ve stayed want to leave? The real issue here is to live with honor and correctly comprehend the memories and values that remain of those who’ve departed…

In addition to his interest in poetry, he also has a passion for doves. Poems and doves are actually two images that bring each other to mind. He writes, "The dove is identified with peace, freedom, and democracy. It’s “ashiti” (Kurdish for “peace”). With doves, I perceive a world without borders, without mines, without national identities, and full of peace. My love for doves began in my childhood. I always stressed the logic that doves were equal to people. There’s no doubt that this passion will continue until the day I die. Peace is, for me, the most sacred concept in human history, and a difficult endeavor that requires great responsibility if it is to be established and sustained. "

On another note, I wish to add this poem, which is also a song for Kurdistan an ancient lovely land: http://www.kurdmedia.com/acindex.asp

Azadî bo Kurdistan - Beste Kurdistanim zor ciwane beheshtî ser cihane
Deba zû azadî keyin bo Kurd em Kurditane Mehabadim neberde,
yekem komarî Kurde, he Kurde "
Peshewa" qet namirê giyanibaxtikerî Kurde
Sine u Sabillax yan Bokan, Kirmashan u Merîwan
Serdeshit u ciwanî Bane, awedan bê Kurdistan
Diyarbekir rengîne, xakî Kurdî dêrîne
Urfe u Mardîn u Dersîm serçawey hemu jîne
Qamîshlî ta Serçawe, Afrîn hêzuhanawe
Dîrîk u Derbsiye gisht be Nêrigiz razawe
Babagûrrgûrr to ciwanî sharî mardî Kurdani
Kerkuk hergîz nagorrê gisht germîan u kiwêstanî
Awadan bê slêmanî bo helmet u qurbanî Legell
Hewilêr u Koye shadamarî Kurdanî Tikam le gishit
Kurdane herçî Kurd le gîhane
Hemû yek dill yekbigrîn mebestiman Kurdistane
Nêrigiz bo Kurd xellat keyin beser em xake ciwane
Deba nêrigiz xallat keyin azadî Kurdistane

Sometimes, It's All About Dessert

Going Away, Far Far Away at Christmas

Our daughter is going to spend time in Washington D.C. and in Virginia at Christmas, to visit a friend she taught with in China. They've been making plans to visit the museums and take in the history there, and he says everything is FREE - Ruhiyyih's favorite word! I'm eager to hear all about her trip when she gets back - we'll see her on New Years Day.

Ruhiyyih's New Back-Pack

We did a little shopping together at REI, a favorite place of ours. She bought this new backpack for her trip. It holds a sleeping bag, a few changes of clothing, and toiletries. (She wanted me to e-mail this photo, so she can use it on her blog, and I haven't a clue as to how to do that...so it's gotta go here first, then she can copy it.) Oh boy.

The Winter Solstice - Celebrate Today

Should you have a clear blue sky, with a fading moon overhead, you will see up there that magic is happening. This is the shortest day of the year in northern latitudes. This NASA photo shows the Earth at twilight. Today, the Earth is rotating on it's axis, and the long winter nights will slowly change.

An array of ancient cultures built their greatest architectures -- tombs, temples, cairns and sacred observatories -- so that they aligned with the solstices and equinoxes. The monuments can be seen here, at Ancient Origins.

In Iran, there is the observance of Yalda, in which families kept vigil through the night and fires burned brightly to help the sun (and Goodness) battle darkness (thought evil).

Winter solstice celebrations are also part of the cultural heritage of Pakistan and Tibet. And in China, even though the calendar is based on the moon, the day of winter solstice is called Dong Zhi, "The Arrival of Winter." The cold of winter made an excellent excuse for a feast, so that's how the Chinese observed it, with Ju Dong, "doing the winter."

Saturnalia festivities occur throuout the world - interested in cultural traditions? You can find something here at Ancient Origins...

Seamus Heaney - Irish Poet of Peace

Seamus Heaney was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1995 for poems with lyrical beauty and ethical depth. His verse exalts everyday miracles and the living past, which are filled with the richness and danger of Derry farms and peat bogs and with the people who lived and worked there. Like all great Irish writers, Heaney is known for the wealth of sound, image, metaphor and rhythm in his poems. He hears language in landscape, in rivers, in stones:

"Song"

A rowan like a lipsticked girl.
Between the by-road and the main road
Alder trees at a wet and dripping distance
Stand off among the rushes.

There are the mud-flowers of dialect
And the immortelles of perfect pitch
And that moment when the bird sings very close
To the music of what happens.

Albert Einstein on Evil and God

Does evil exist? the university professor challenged his students with this question. Did God create everything that exists?

A student bravely replied, "yes, he did!"
"God created everything?" the professor asked.
"Yes sir," the student replied.
The professor answered, "If god created everything, then God created evil, since evil exists, and according to the principal that our works define who we are, then God is evil."

The student became quiet before such an answer. The professor was quite pleased with himself, and boasted to the students that he had proven once more that the Christian Faith was a myth.

Another student raised his hand and said, "Can I ask you a question sir?"
"Of course," replied the professor.
The student stood up and asked, "Professor, does cold exist?"
"What kind of question is this? Of course it exists. Have you never been cold?"
The students snickered at the young man's question.

The young man replied, "In fact sir, cold does not exist. According to the laws of physics, what we consider cold is in reality the absence of heat. Everybody or object is susceptible to study when it has or transmits energy, and heat is what makes a body or matter have or transmit energy. Absolute zero (-460 degrees F) is the total absence of heat; all matter becomes inert and incapable of reaction at that temperature. Cold does not exist. We have created this word to describe how we feel if we have no heat," the student continued. "Professor, does darkness exist?"

"Of course it does," the Professor replied.

The student said, "Once again you are wrong, sir. Darkness does not exist either. Darkness is in reality the absence of light. Light we can study, but not darkness. In fact, we can use Newton's prism to break white light into many colors and study the various wavelengths of each color. You cannot measure darkness. A simple ray of light can break into a world of darkness and illuminate it. How can you know how dark a certain space is? You measure the amount of light present. Isn't this correct? Darkness is a term used by man to describe what happens when there is no light present." Finally he asked, "Sir, does evil exist?"

Now uncertain the professor responded, "Of course, as I have already said, we see it everyday. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. They are nothing but evil.

To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist sir, or at least it does not exist unto itself. Evil is simply the absence of god. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of god. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have god's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light."

The professor sat down. The young student's name---- Albert Einstein.
Thanks to my son, Taraz'ullah, at Myspace.com for this post.

The Power Of Photoshop

Babette's Feast - A Prayer Filled Celebration

Babette's Feast is regarded by some as an elaborate allegory relating to Christianity, by others as a many-layered work which rewards the viewer with new insights, and by others as a fine, light-hearted comedy. Like many grand narratives, this is a deceptively simple story, exquisitely translated into film.

The story is set in a small village in Jutland on the west coast of Norway. It is isolated and lonely, the time is the late nineteenth century. The main characters are two spinsters, Phillipa and Martine, daughters of a Protestant father who imposes strict puritanical rule. When he dies, the daughters carry out their father' s traditions of selflessness, the single life and good works.

In this Spartan existence the French maid, Babette, gives full expression to her abundant creativity. She cooks a meal, to show the glory of God's creation, and the bliss of giving, without any thought of reward.

The dialogue is very rich, with nuanced hidden meanings, subtle overtones that reflect the need for submission to the Will of God. This was part of the dialogue:

"Mercy and truth have met together. Righteousness and bliss shall kiss one another. Man, in his weakness and shortsightness, believe he must make choices in this life. He trembles at the risks he takes. We do know fear. But no. Our choice is of no importance. There comes a time when your eyes are opened. And we come to realize that mercy is infinite.We need only await it with confidence, and receive it with gratitude. Mercy imposes no conditions. And, lo! Everything we have chosen has been granted to us, and everything have rejected has also been granted. Yes, we even get back what we rejected. For mercy and truth are met together; and righteousness and bliss shall kiss one another.

Hymn Philippa sings at end of feast:

Oh, watch the day once again hurry off
And the sun bathe itself in water
The time for us to rest approaches
Oh God, Who dwelleth in heavenly light
Who reigns above in heaven’s hall
Be for us our infinite Light in the valley of night
The sand in our hourglass will soon run out
The day is conquered by the night
The glories of the world are ending
So brief their day, so swift their flight
God, let thy brightness ever shine
Admit us to Thy mercy divine.

Martina: Now you’ll be poor for the rest of your life.
Babette: An artist is never poor.
Philippa: Did you prepare that sort of dinner at the Cafe Anglais?
Babette: I was able to make them happy when I gave of my very best. Papin knew that.
Philippa: Achille Papin?
Babette: Yes. He said: Throughout the world sounds one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me the chance to do my very best.
Philippa: But that is not the end, Babette, I’m certain of that. In Paradise, you will be the great artist that God meant you to be. Ah, how you will delight the angels!

New Angles On Creativity - by Robert Glenn

These days, high-powered creativity coaches are offering themselves to the world of business. Companies improve their bottom lines with the latest techniques in creative thinking. Much of what they're saying has been known to artists for some time. Today's top mantras include keeping new ideas private until the time comes for a full birth in the presence of the right crowd. Another is accepting the idea that creativity pops up in unusual places in its own sweet time. The bathtub, the car and the fishing boat are often mentioned. Execs are told to move unresolved ideas to the back burner and let them simmer. In other words, go golfing.
Here are a few more: Watch your use of the word "creativity." It's pretentious and can scare creative ideas out of you. "New" is a word that's suspect as well. Good ideas don't have to be totally new ideas. The better ideas, new or otherwise, are often generated when the original questions are clarified. Rephrased questions lead to rephrased answers. In the world of ideas, have the courage to be wrong. Nothing is too crazy to look into. Be your greater self and dump some of your conservative tendencies.

"The creative person," said creativity pioneer Frank X Barron, "is both more primitive and more cultivated, more destructive and more constructive, a lot madder and a lot saner, than the average person." Crazy or not, take your ideas into another room and beat up on them. Furthermore, ideas fleshed up in rough form (sketch) go a long way toward making them full blown. Also, commit yourself to making the better ideas happen--it's not enough to just have the ideas--it's important to get the wheels turning. And know that for every creative question there are generally several right answers.

Execs are also told to start relying on their hunches. "A hunch is creativity trying to tell you something," said the film director Frank Capra. Also, there is a "state" of creativity, even though it's not on the map. "The object," said art educator Robert Henri, "isn't to make art, it's to be in that wonderful state which makes art inevitable." Naming and claiming your creations are also up there on the list. "I start from something considered dead and arrive at a world," said surrealist painter Joan Miro, "And when I put a title on it, it becomes even more alive."

PS: "We've become conditioned to believe there is only one right answer. This goes back to the school system where you were rewarded for coming up with the one right answer that the teacher expected. To beat this conditioning, try to think of three right answers." (Claude Legrande, pres. Ideaction Inc.)

Esoterica: Current research seems to indicate that the human brain is hard-wired to judge ideas at the same time that we generate them. It's an instinctive response going back to the cave days when we had to deal with sabre-toothed tigers. An inner judge rules and makes a quick decision based on what worked before. Delaying judgment may not save you from a tiger, but it's vital in creative thinking. Time gives the opportunity for more than one layer of the old cortex to go to work. A whole zoo of ideas is possible.

Mile End Terrace - Birthplace of Dickens

Charles Dickens was born at Mile End Terrace in London on Friday, February 7th at Landport, a suburb of Portsmouth to John, a clerk in the navy pay-office attached to the dockyard, and Elizabeth Dickens. Reforms in the Admiralty caused his father to loose his post and most of his income. His father was arrested for debt on February 2, 1824, and was consigned to the Marshalsea Prison. Separated from his family and put to work at Warren's Blacking Factory, Charles Dickens walked three miles to and from lodgings in Camden Town to visit his father on Sundays at prison. He was 12 years old! When he wrote "The Christmas Carol" it was with the intention of exposing the suffering of impoverished children who turned to crime and delinquency in order to survive.

The Marshalsea Debtor's Prison - London

This is the debtor's prison where Charles Dicken's father remained when he couldn't pay his debts. The Marshalsea prison was eventually closed in the late 19th century and demolished sometime afterwards. The district is still redolent with Dickens associations and the visitor will find Marshalsea Road a favorite tourist jaunt.

Imagine how young Dickens must have felt about his future when he visited his father there...

And, I'll finish my posts on Dickens here, with this. There is an excellent time-line here regarding his life, his marriage, and his 10 children - I've just spent about an hour trying to figure out how a woman would have a nervous breakdown trying to fulfill all the social engagements required by having a famous husband while caring for ten children... His response to her difficulties was NOT gentlemanly.

"A Christmas Carol" - Charles Dickens

Charles Dickens (1812-1870) was one of the best-loved novelists of his time when he wrote "A Christmas Carol", which was published in December of 1843. The book got excellent reviews and became an instant success. John Leech (1817-1864) produced four hand-colored etchings and four wood engravings to illustrate the volume.

Dicken's preface begins: "I have endeavoured in this Ghostly little book, to raise the Ghost of an Idea, which shall not put my readers out of humour with themselves, with each other, with the season, or with me. May it haunt their houses pleasantly..."

Mel Cooking Up A Storm

This photo was taken while Mel, my neice, was getting ready for company. Isn't that something that we always look forward to during the holidays... anticipating good conversation, renewing bonds of friendship, remembering together. The joy of cooking is part of the fun of family gatherings. Here is what Charles Dickens had to say about it in "A Christmas Carol"

The poulterers' shops were still half open, and the fruiterers' were radiant in their glory. There were great, round, pot-bellied baskets of chestnuts, shaped like the waistcoats of jolly old gentlemen, lolling at the doors, and tumbling out into the street in their apoplectic opulence. There were ruddy, brown-faced, broad-girthed Spanish Onions, shining in the fatness of their growth like Spanish Friars, and winking from their shelves in wanton slyness at the girls as they went by, and glanced demurely at the hung-up mistletoe. There were pears and apples, clustered high in blooming pyramids; there were bunches of grapes, made, in the shopkeepers' benevolence to dangle from conspicuous hooks, that people's mouths might water gratis as they passed; there were piles of filberts, mossy and brown, recalling, in their fragrance, ancient walks among the woods, and pleasant shufflings ankle deep through withered leaves; there were Norfolk Biffins, squab and swarthy, setting off the yellow of the oranges and lemons, and, in the great compactness of their juicy persons, urgently entreating and beseeching to be carried home in paper bags and eaten after dinner.

Catherine In An Artist's Eye

Today I've featured my neice, Mel, with the desire to show how art is a part of her life - and this photo is a feature of her camera. It does some creative editing - how wonderful! Catherine is Bubbie Dear's grand-daughter, Mel's neice.

An Artist's Kitchen - Pottery Collections

Looking at the soft lavender pastels of this kitchen, one can only imagine the silence of early morning, winter snow in the yard, and the quiet hum of.....a potters wheel.

When she can take time away from her job and the care of her two daughters, Mel, my neice, stands here by the window, cup of coffee in hand. She is an artist, a potter, who throws clay on a potters wheel in her kitchen and bakes it in a kiln in her garage. Her collections are stored on a shelf over this archway, and I have filmed all of them.

When we visited Mel, I saw something very touching - she had saved all the old etchings and pastel drawings I had done 25 years ago. They were framed, and put up in her home. Had I kept them, they never would have survived all the relocations we had to make as I was raising my children. It took another artist to see their merit, hold onto them, and put them in a little gallery - Mel's livingroom. There they are in good company with her sculptures, pottery, her extensive art book collection, and the collections of her grandfather. I'd like to feature Mel today, and show the little details that reflect her love of art.

The Artist's Sanctuary - Her Gallery

One of my old pastel drawings is hanging over Mel's piano. I think if she had not rescued it, it would be in a landfill somewhere. Some of my etchings are on the top of her piano, too, along with photos of her family. One of my etchings was called, "Blessed Is The Spot", about the sanctity of the home where mention of God is made, and his praise glorified.

Mel (double click on image to enlarge) is pictured next to a pot called "Under the Watchful Eye of a Mentor's Giving Gaze". As Mel says:

"My instructor prepared a sawdust firing with no glaze. All the color comes from the smoke and reduction of oxygen during the firing - and a little luck from the Kiln Gods. He fired his work with three of mine and out of everything we we just loved the one of mine that was blessed that day. All his work was for one of his upcoming shows, at the time I had wished his work had had my luck. Years later I am so glad that 'little face' is there with the memories of the morning out at his place, firing in his kiln."

She hadn't planned on the glaze turning out the way it did. When she pulled the pot out of the fire, there it was, very different from what she expected. Some of the most unusual experiments in pottery turn out this way - with an unexpected outcome. Just like in our lives, we throw the clay, create the pot, and put it through the fire, creating outcomes that challenge all of our creativity and resourcefulness and bring about the unexpected.

Food For The Soul - Creating in Clay

This is a photo of Mel trimming a little dish - I think it is the one I now have on my windowsill, sitting with my rock collection and shells. About the process of creating out of clay, she says:

"Every step of the way when I made pots it was never to start with something in mind. I'd have a 'slow discussion with the clay' (in other words I'd let my mind wander) while wedging, throwing, trimming and burnishing. Then after all that control and focus, I'dput it all into a pit - the riskiest way to fire, and then let come what may. Each and everytime, I'd stand out in the sun with my dog "Buck" at my side. Shirtless in the heat, I'd throw oak pallets onto my pots, singing and yelling my mood out to the mountainside and nearby lake."

Then, she'd experience the moment she'd been waiting for - once the ashes were cleared away in the open pit fire, she saw the results of fire, clay, and her spirit shouting out to the mountains.

Mel's Pottery On My Windowsill

These little dishes are under 3 inches - just right to hold shells from the beach. The clay figurines are from Ireland.

Frosty Morning At Tolmie State Park

We headed out for an early morning hike at Tolmie State Park, where the temperature was below freezing, and frost was everywhere. American Widgeons and Buffleheads flocked up as we walked along this sand spit. There was a 3 mile trail in the forest, which meandered through old cedar groves and leatherleaf ferns. We hiked through it, eventually taking off mittens, scarves, down jackets and scarves. By the time we returned to Tolmie Spit, shadows covered the lagoon.

Aie Aebruiksaawijzing - Voor Eenmalig Gebruik

When George was stopping at the bank today, on the way out of town, I saw a wad of paper on the ground, nestled under a bush. It looked like a wad of dollar bills, and I thought, gee maybe my 'ship has come in'. Ever mindful of a stroke of good luck, I got out of the car, walked over, and picked it up.

Whatever it was, it was written in 13 languages, so it must have been important, and there was a warning: Forsigtigt: I henhold til gaeldende lov ma denne anordning kun saelges til eller bruges af en laege!

Precautions d'emploi (This I understood) : Jeter tous les instruments deconditionnes, utilises ou non.

Alternative: Das Instrument kann vor Freigabe des Griffs leicht angehoben werden. Dadurch werden die Wundrander evertiert und konnen leichter mit einer Pinzette gefabt werden. Nach Ansetzen der Pinzette wird der Griff freigegeben und dieser Vorgang zum erneuten Auslosen des Instrumentes wiedernolt.

Then, I saw, No seguir las instrucciones correctamente puede tener serias consecuencias gurugicas. I figured this was serious. I took the booklet home, got out my iron, and ironed out the pages - so I could read more about it, preferably in English.

Someone must have torn that page out, then discarded the little booklet, so all that I saw that I could read, was "Ethicon Endo-Surgery, a Johnson and Johnson company". And, there on the front was a drawing of a most sinister looking gizmo - the Proximate Skin stapler! (Check out photo in link) Once the pages were ironed out, I noticed a warning "Failure to properly follow the instructions may lead to serious surgical consequences." Well, I'm glad I've been warned...

Things We Learn From Children

My five children, like all kids, kept me running from one catastrophe to another: Getting hit by a car, resulting in a coma for a week; splitting a tongue while jumping off a table; breaking an arm rollerskating; threatening to jump off the roof if we didn't move back to Montana (fire dept. had to come rescue him); putting a 2 foot hole in the wall by jumping into it; breaking a sliding glass door 2 times by throwing balls (I finally put plywood over the door, painted it the color of the house, and waited until we moved out); starting a fire in the fireplace when we were gone, and blasting it so hot the glass doors fractured and broke; and experimenting with anger - by turning a hose on, through an open window, and flooding the carpet in the dining room. I have all of these things documented in a journal, which I kept at the time to retain my sanity while raising my little 'angels', two of which are pictured here - Rahmat and Taraz. But, lets go on to the "Things We Learned From Children": (These things actually happened) (Thanks to Bubbie Dear for the photos)

1. A king size waterbed holds enough water to fill a 3 bedroom about house 4 inches deep.
2. If you spray hair spray on a nylon duster and then run over it with roller skates or roller- blades, they can ignite.
3. A 3-year olds voice is louder than 200 adults in a crowded restaurant.
4. If you hook a dog leash over a ceiling fan, the motor is not strong enough to rotate a 42 pound boy wearing Batman underwear and a Superman cape. It is strong enough, however, if tied to a paint can, to spread paint on all four walls of a large room.
5. You should not throw balls up when the ceiling fan is on, using the ceiling fan as a bat, you have to throw the ball up a few times before you get a hit. A ceiling fan can then hit a ball a long way.
6. The glass in windows (even double-pane) doesn't stop a ball hit by a ceiling fan.
7. When you hear the toilet flush and the words "uh oh," it's already too late.
8. Brake fluid mixed with Bleach makes smoke, and lots of it.
9. A six-year old can start a fire with a flint rock even though a 36-year old man says they can only do it in the movies.
10. Certain bits of Lego's will pass through the digestive tract of a 4-year old.
11. Play dough and microwave should not be used in the same sentence.
12. Super glue is forever.
13. No matter how much Jelly you put in a swimming pool you still can'twalk on water.
14. Pool filters do not like Jelly.
15. VCR's do not eject toasted sandwiches even though TV commercials show they do.
16. Garbage bags do not make good parachutes.
17. Marbles in petrol tanks make lots of noise when driving and very expensive to remove.
18. You probably do not want to know what that smell really is.
19. Always look in the oven before you turn it on. Plastic toys do notlike ovens.
20. The average response time for the fire brigade is about 20 minutes.
21. The spin cycle on the washing machine does not make earthworms dizzy.
22. It will, however, make cats dizzy.
23. Cats throw up twice their body weight when dizzy.
24. The mind of a 6-year old is a wonderful and amazing thing. True story: One day the infant school teacher was reading the story of the Three Little Pigs to her class. She came to the part of the story where the first pig was trying to accumulate the building materials for his home. She read," And so the pig went up to the man with the wheelbarrow-full of straw and said, "Pardon me sir, but may I have some of that straw to build my house?'" The teacher paused then asked the class, "Andwhat do you think that man said?" One little boy raised his hand and said, "I think he said...'Holy xxxx! A talking pig!'" The teacher was unable to teach for the next 10 minutes.
25. 60% of men who read this will try mixing the bleach and brake fluid.

Thanks to Gangadhar, of Dexterous Doings, in India...

Holiday Color at the Seymour Conservatory

Amaryllis and Poinsettia Display at the Conservatory

The poinsettia is a native to Mexico and originated in a rather limited region near present day Taxco. Long before the arrival of Europeans, the Aztecs of Central Mexico cultivated the plant and called it Cuetlaxochitle.

Because of its brilliant color, the poinsettia was a symbol of purity to the Indians. It was highly prized by Kings Montezuma and Netzahualcoyotl, but could not be grown in their capital, now Mexico City, because of the high altitude.

The Aztecs also had practical uses for the plant. They made a reddish purple dye out of the bracts and a medicine for fever from the plant's latex. During the Seventeenth Century a community of Franciscan priests settled near Taxco. When they found this bright red flower blooming naturally on the slopes during the Season of Advent (December) they used it to adorn the Nativity Celebration. This custom soon became a tradition throughout Mexico.

Joel Poinsett is responsible for bringing the plant to the United States. He was appointed the first U.S. Ambassador to Mexico (1825-29). The botanical name is Euphorbia pulcherrima.

The Lights in Our Neighborhood

When I went for a walk last night, I took my camera just to record a couple of the little houses on my block. Nothing spectacular here, but a dedicated effort to bring Christmas cheer to one's home.

Working The Trayline at the Old Folks Home

I worked a trayline in a nursing home before I became a caregiver in assisted living. It was hard work, but the hours were good (12:00-8:00 pm.), and there was a constant turnover of staff. Most people got bored after a few weeks, but I was so grateful to have that job I found ways to amuse myself. The routines were the same every day - prepare food, dish up dinner on the trayline, and clean up. Any dimwit could do it, and I did. For 10 years!

I only worked with four people at a time, sometimes less, depending on call-ins, and it was my manner to just fade into the labor and not say too much all day. The woman who trained me stuttered, so what should have been a 2 hour training took about 4. But, what the heck, I'm a visual learner anyway, so it was no problem. I basically watched her and then I was on my own for 10 years.

There were strict rules for working a trayline - for working in a kitchen. And, being a rule lover, I always followed them: Wash your hands as soon as you enter the kitchen. Sneeze into your sleeve. Don't scratch anything with your hands and then touch food. Wear a hairnet and food handlers gloves when handling food. Last, but not least, wear white shoes, white slacks, and a plain shirt with a collar.

Gracie was my best friend there. She was there almost as long as I was, and she didn't cater to most of the rules. She was almost ready for retirement, weary from working two jobs every day, when she decided that Saturday nights were an opportunity to 'dress down'. The boss wasn't there to monitor dress codes, so she came in her curlers under a western scarf, canvas shoes with buckles, blue socks, maroon stretch pants and an orange T-shirt she got for a quarter at the Goodwill. She would buy anything that was a bargan, and most of her shirts were the 25 cent specials. They made no sense at all, had no relevance to her. There was a "Hamm's Beer" (she didn't drink), another that said "I LOVE MEL" (she didn't know a Mel), and one that had bold black letters on the back that said "SUPPORT OUR TROOPS" (no war goin' on). Even though no writing was allowed on any shirts, she showed up one day with a ghastly red one that said, "THIS COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!" on the front. On the back it said "BUCKLE UP", and there on Gracies's back was the drawing of a family in a crushed car with the kids laying on the road, papa hanging dead out the window.

We got careless sometimes, when we worked short, and one night Gracie was supposed to mix 'thickener' into glasses of juice to make a thick drink, like tomato juice, and she made it so thick you could stab it with a fork. She held the glass upside down, and the juice wouldn't fall out. When someone asked her what she was doing stabbing it that way, she just scowled and said she was 'making sure it was dead'. Oh my. What hard-working days those were...

What? Oh, I'll Figure It Out Later

Have your coffee first, folks, then go figure. Here, at Tomato Nation. And, the PARTY is HERE!

Lexicography and The Age of Computers

Erin McKean is the author of "Dress A Day", the blog that I featured on December 13th. She is also an editor of The New Oxford American Dictionary which hits bookstores this month. I thought you might enjoy hearing an interview with her here, to learn more about lexicograpy, and the impact computers are having on our language...just press the 'listen' button.

Frost On The Leaves Today

(Click on photo for larger image)

Shut-In On A Winter's Day

My son Ruh came to visit his brothers today. Rahmat is reading "The Tenth Insight - Holding the Vision" by James Redfield, a book about personal destiny and purpose. It answers the questions "Why are we here? What are we to do? Where are we going?"...well, I know one thing, he will be moving later this month to a place of his own, finally, and I'm happy for him.

The Chicadees Haven't Come By

I'm as eager as our cat Mordred here, to see birds come to my new feeder. So far, it isn't happening... I wonder why?

Fish On Friday - The Anglerfish

These fish have a dangling lure for attracting their meals and the deepwater varieties have a bacteria on the end of the lure that glows. What miracles we find in Nature! Go here to find out how mean this fish gets.

The Historic District of Tacoma

I've spent the last couple of days looking at apartments with my son, Rahmat. He is ready to 'fly the coop' again, this time a little closer to home. He's found a studio apartment on the 3rd floor of the Walker Building, a beautiful old building on the National Registrar of Historic Places here in Tacoma. The Old City Hall (1862) is just a few blocks away, and the view out his window is of Commencement Bay and the tideflats. Mount Rainier is a distant white in the far reaches beyond the horizon line. The Public Library is within walking distance, and his apartment is on the bus line - 6th Avenue, that goes near our home and both his jobs.

The Union Depot District, the Stadium District and the Old City Hall District are the historic areas of Tacoma. Peak growth of these areas was from the 1880's through the 1920's. The Walker Building was part of the latter, and is one of many old buildings being renovated in the area. It has marble tile floors, lovely moldings, and built-in features in the apartments. At one time it was an old hotel, with a little courtyard off the back end. I was delighted to see little French-style courtyard tables and chairs back there. The front lobby was elegant yet charming, with four chattering parakeets caged near the front window. A big bouquet of fresh Fuscia flowers were on a side table next to magazines and a Christmas tree. I imagined how Rahmat would feel at the end of a long work day, entering this lobby on the way to his apartment. It gave me comfort.

Eighteen years ago, when we moved to Tacoma, this entire area had been taken over by the 'gangs', with a lot of drug traffic in the old hotels and apartment buildings. It was not a safe area. But all of that has been cleaned up, and many of the little studio apartments are the haven for students at the college nearby who are just making a start. I was impressed with the business manager, who took time to understand all of our (my) concerns. To a mom, safety is top priority - no, I didn't want him to have a basement apartment, without window screens and safety features, like bars. Otherwise, I imagined anyone lifting the open window up in summertime, and stealing his stuff. You've got to have ventilation when you've got a southern exposure here.

I had to laugh, though. Rahmat was sold on a different apartment because an old bathtub had clawfeet - I told him that was not a feature at the top of the list. The place also had ceilings that were over 10 feet high - if he'd have to heat all that air, and he would, he'd be heating the top 5 feet close to the ceiling, and down at foot level, he'd be cold - unless the person below him was heating his ceiling!

I was also comforted seeing youth his age coming and going from the building - he will be able to make new relationships and see that he is part of a group just getting their start. I was impressed with the atmosphere, which was pleasant and congenial...so necessary for optimism and courage when you are just starting out. Little theatres and restaurants are nearby, as is Wright Park, the Seymour Conservatory, the Tacoma Art Museum, the Glass Museum, History Museum, and Tacoma Community College. He will be in the mix of it all!

Rahmat will be able to move in around the 20th. This was a real collaboration - Rahmat picked out the apartments and the location, and I provided feedback, based on the places I've rented in the course of my life. I'm glad that in his choices he found a place that I will love to visit - not only because he is there, but because it is so rich with history.

Chihuly At Union Station

This photo is of the large chandalier created by Tacoma artist Dale Chihuly, which hangs in Union Station, the old railroad station in the historical district of downtown Tacoma. When I saw this for the first time, my foremost thought was, "how do they dust it?"

Check out all the exhibitions Dale Chihuly has offered at his site. You'll be amazed.

Tiny Tears, Kuwpie and Wendy

No matter how old I get, you can always give me a doll for Christmas. When I was growing up, one doll was all I needed from the 3rd grade until the 6th grade, when I stopped playing with dolls.

Back when I was young, baby dolls that wet their pants and drank from a bottle were all the rage. It was a Tiny Tears doll, that kept me busy changing diapers, preparing formula, and giving bottles. As I recall, I had a little suitcase that contained bonnets, doll dresses and little booties, and every day after school my sister would get out her doll, Karen, who looks like the Wendy doll, and we would play house.

I took care of my Tiny Tears Doll until one of her arms wore off, the color on her mouth came off, and the glue holding her artificial hair wore off. When I no longer felt inclined to play with her, because TV had become the afternoon past-time, I put her in a little box, dressed in her pajamas, booties and hat, and wrapped her in a little blanket. I kept her well into my fifties, and then she disappeared out in the clutter of the garage, never to be found again.

I still have a baby doll in my dresser - a lifelike size, with sweet little hands and an adorable face. I bought it just a few years ago when I bought the same doll for my grand-daughter, Daisy. It's tucked away for when I become very old, and want to play with a doll again. I saw this many times in the Alzheimer residents at my work - it was a comfort to them to rock a doll. Who says you outgrow the need to cuddle something little and soft...I'm all set, with another baby doll sleeping in my drawer.

Islands of Adventure's Seuss Landing

Everyone remembers the rhymes and illustrations of Dr. Seuss books - right? Remember the color, the curvey lines, the whimsy? Well, there is a theme park in Florida that brings it all to life - Islands of Adventure's Seuss Landing, which is based on the works of Dr. Seuss: Cat in the Hat; Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You; Green Eggs and Ham; There's a Wocket in My Pocket.

The entertainment value of Seuss Landing is obvious in the architecture - bold colors, playful curves and exaggerations that distort reality, and defy gravity - a friendly place, the perfect place for a family holiday at Christmas time.

Good And Bad Reasons For Believing

In his book, "A Devil's Chaplain", the prominent Oxford atheist Richard Dawkins writes a letter to his daughter, asking her the question: "Have you ever wondered how we know the things that we know?" He wanted his daughter to discern the various ways we shape our thoughts and come to know what is true. He indicates that his answer to this question is 'evidence', working with a hypothesis about what might be true, then using science to back up the evidence of what has been found.

He says that there are three bad reasons for believing something - tradition, authority, and revelation. The first, "tradition", holds that something is true because centuries of belief made it true. The second, "authority", holds the belief that something is true because someone important, like a Pope, an Ayatollah, or a President, said it is true. The third says that "revelation" is a bad reason for believing anything. That is, when a religious authority says something is true even though there is no evidence that it is true, they label it 'revelation'.

Another reason for believing what we do is that something just 'feels right', it authenticates our own experience, it addresses our own particular needs. But, with that approach, whose feelings are right? Inside feelings must be backed up by evidence, Dawkins says, otherwise you just can't trust them.

Then, there is the problem of expressing concepts, and using language, which is susceptable to all kinds of variation and interpretation. Children have to learn the language of their own country, and absorb an enormous amount of information (like a blotter) , much of it imposed on them by parents, teachers, or the clergy. Children will likely believe anything they are told, and when they become young adults they will review everything they have learned, cull the useful, remove the unsavory, and spend the next decades questioning the evidence. Dawkins letter to his daughter, alerted her to this journey.

I would add one additional force that has tremendous impact - social networks. As we assemble our truths, there are those people who will try to build up our belifs, and there will be those who will tear them down. I call these people the 'constructionists' and the 'deconstructionists', each has a part to play in the types of questions they ask. The world is full of both types, like the logger in the forest. They know what type of tree should fall, and why, and they know what fresh sapling should stay and grow in the forest. Watch out for them - they are strongly opinionated, resolute, and can wreck havoc. The history of civilization is full of them.

WIERD Magazine - The Dream Magazine

Nerds would love WIERD Magazine, and lest I rob it of all of its magic, just let me give you a quote from today's latest article on Fabrication Laboratories, or Fab Labs:

A fab lab is a miniature factory for the digital age. The latest version consists of three Linux PCs, a laser cutter, a combination 3-D scanner and drill, a numerically controlled X-Acto knife, and a handful of RISC chips. Set it up, turn it on, and you can crank out not only solid objects like eyeglass frames and action figures but, thanks to Gershenfeld's research, electronic devices like radios and computers, too. The professor recently installed one at a technical institute in southwestern Ghana, where it has proven hugely popular. His success suggests that manufacturing - like publishing, coding, music and film distribution, and communications before it - is about to bust out of its industrial confines."

ISN'T THAT JUST THE BOMB! But, you know, I just had the hardest time finding a great visual to go with it......

The Facts of Life

1. The 2 most common elements in the universe are hydrogen and stupidity.
2. If at first you don't succeed, skydiving is not for you.
3. Money can't buy happiness...But it sure makes misery easier to live with.
4. Nothing in the known universe travels faster than a bad check.
5. A truly wise man never plays leapfrog with a unicorn.
6. It has recently been discovered that research causes cancer in rats.
7. Always remember to pillage BEFORE you burn.
8. If you are given an open-book exam, you will forget your book.
9. The trouble with doing something right the first time is that nobody appreciates how difficult it was.
10. It may be that your sole purpose in life is simply to serve as a warning to others.

Life Lessons - Problem Solving

Life Lessons offers a course called "The Joy of Thinking: The Beauty and Power of Classical and Mathematical Ideas. Faced with a problem, what do you do? They advocate these strategies:

Just do it. If you're faced with a problem and you don't know how to solve it, begin by taking some action.

Make mistakes and fail but never give up. Mathematicians are supremely gifted at making mistakes. The key is to use the insight from your mistakes to identify the features of a correct solution to your problem.

Keep an open mind. If we are never willing to consider new ideas, then we can never hope to increase our understanding of the world around us.

Explore the consequences of new ideas. This strategy pushes us to see where an idea leads and in this way to discover new ideas and insights.

Seek the essential. One of the biggest obstacles in solving real-world problems is the noise and clutter of irrelevant issues that surround them.

Understand the issue. Identifying and clarifying the problem to be solved in a situation is often a significant step in reaching a solution.

Understand simple things deeply. We can never understand unknown situations without an intense focus on those aspects of the unknown that are familiar. The familiar, in other words, serves as the best guide to the unfamiliar.

Break a difficult problem into easier ones. This strategy is fundamental to mathematics and, indeed, applicable in everyday life.

Examine issues from several points of view. We can, for example, gain new insights by looking at the construction of an object, rather than the object itself.

Look for patterns. Similarities among situations and objects that are different on the surface should be viewed as flashing lights urging us to look for explanations. Patterns help us to structure our understanding of the world, and similarities are what we use to bring order and meaning to chaos.

Snowman Soup - A Warm Delight

Just a little gift for a co-worker, a stocking-stuffer or a party favor:

1 package hot chocolate mix
3 Hershey Kisses
10 mini-marshmallows
1 candy cane
Place in a small ziplock bag.

Attach this poem:
"Was told you've been real good this year
Always glad to hear it
With freezing weather drawing near
You'll need to warm the spirit
So here's a little Snowman Soup
Complete with stirring stick
Just add hot water, sip it slow
It's sure to do the trick!"

Just Put It In The Christmas Stocking

Wondering what to get that special someone for a romantic getaway? How about this amphibious motorcoach, the Terra Wind, for $1.2 million. I saw it featured on the Travel channel on TV, and it truly is phenomenal - it glides on land and water. Faq sheet is here if you've got questions...as a matter of fact I do: Does it have an anchor when needed for offshore locations? (Answer here) And, can you pull a water-skiier......answer, NO!

Making The Imagined Real

We all live at least three lives: Our actual one, our imaginary one, and the one we are not even aware of. Thomas Bernhard's opening passage in "On The Mountain" says, "what we say, what we write down, is ten times more foolish than what we think." I would say that is true, because our thoughts fly by with such force and abundance, it would be hard to contain them in print. But, the written word is also fleeting, containing images that vanish when we put the book down.

We have an old part of town here in Tacoma, called Hilltop, where families have moved out, and the property is boarded up. When we drive by, I imagine apartment houses as they once were, with families working double shifts at Nalley Valley, or a single mom raising kids alone on Welfare. I wonder if anything was left inside - old furniture, a pair of shoes or a receipt for spark plugs at K-Mart. What kind of residue remains when families leave abruptly, or the landlord evicts them, putting all their belongings out by the street. We'll drive by, and one building will replace another in my field of vision. Pretty soon, a variety of visuals and every imagined remnant of my imagination will have put them into a context, all of which could hold a story.

Like piecing together the patches on a quilt, each image waits for a writer or artist to put them into a meaningful context. Sometimes, the quilt never gets made, but the patches are cut, regardless. If the quilt is pieced together, you've got something to put on your bed, or to share with others. The imagined has now become real.

A Dress A Day For The Ladies

"A Dress A Day", is a blogger that posts a fanciful dress, of all eras, every day. She is a dress-lover, goes to estate sales to find old garments or patterns, and then writes what she loves about them! Want a new dress, every day? Go here for her magic.

She's got a nice assortment of links too: The Cat's Pajamas; Trashy Diva ; Glorious Vintage ; Retrodress . If you are snowed in, this is a great place to window shop. Scroll down, and visit her archives.

Just A Little Punny, Not Allot

So Noah is waiting by his ark. Waiting for all the animals that God has promised will squeeze into the boat that he's built. He sees them - great numbers of beasts all converging on where he's standing. Lowering the gang-plank, he watches as the animals start filing on board, two-by-two. As they go into the ship, Noah can be heard commenting on each animal: "Hmmm... two horses," he says, "they don't taste very nice, but they're edible," and "Oooh! Two sheep. I love roast lamb". And so it goes, for each pair of animals, Noah counts, he says something about what they're like to eat. Eventually Noah's son can stand it no longer, and he complains to his mother. She answers: "Well, there's Noah counting for taste."

Bodyworlds - An Amazing Experience

The primary goal of BODY WORLDS and BODY WORLDS 2 is health education. This is an amazing experience. The authenticity of the specimens enables the observer to experience the marvel of the real human body.

"200 individual specimens are used to compare healthy and diseased organs, i.e., a healthy lung with that of a smoker, to emphasize the importance of a healthy life-style. On the other hand, 25 life-like posed whole-body plastinates illustrate where in our bodies these organs are positioned and what we are: naturally fragile in a mechanized world."

Just Want a Closer Look?

MSN Virtual Earth beta is here! MSN Virtual Earth is a new Microsoft geo-spatial web site that integrates MSN Search, MapPoint Maps and Directions, and Microsoft TerraServer-USA into a single application. When panning and searching within Virtual Earth, you can choose to see (1) road map only, (2) aerial image only, or (3) road map overlaid over aerial imagery. Check out "Home" to explore the features of this site - Terra Server gives you a closer look.

Just A Note To My Readers

When I have commenters express their strong opinions, I am honored that they feel free to do so here. I encourage honest, heart-felt expression, as that validates who we are, what we value. I imagine, when people drop a comment, that they drop it on a table - its available for anyone, not just for me. I don't necessarily take any dialogue personally, once its on that table. Its up for grabs, as Bubbie Dear and GeorgeWesley have shown in the comments below. I like people being who they genuinely are, expressing what comes honestly to them. Thats why I will post significant dialogues when they happen here - they create a marvelous energy.

Comments on "A Home for Humankind"

I had so many interesting comments on A Home For Humankind, that I just wanted to post them. They were continuing, buried in the clutter here, and just deserve recognition: (The links are 'today's reading'. )

Mel: Good guestions to have in my head for Yoga this am....where could enlightened kindness take our spirit....if the world's people aren't ready to make it so....at least I can go there for myself. Knowing the need for unity itself is the first step.......Thank you Bonita. You are just sooo Wonderful.

Bubbie Dear: I believe the deeper wound can only be understood by studying the role evil has played in being human. I have had an interest in this subject for many years. We too often put evil into a mythological category where it seems beyond rational inquiry. I'm presently halfway through an excellent book on the topic by Lance Morrow. You may remember his essays in Time magazine. Finally, his book is out and it is called Evil: An Investigation.

Bonita: Bubbie Dear, acquiring a scientific understanding of evil helps to de-mystify it, so we know what we are up against. The thought: KNOW thy enemy still holds true. I'll look for the book at the library, but also hope to find Richard Dawkins A Devil's Chaplain -- both books are intensly thought provoking. http://www.2think.org/ http://eyeonbooks.com/ibp.php?ISBN=0465047548

georgewesley: From a Planet Baha'i article -- "'Abdu'l-Bahá spoke of good as being a positive existence, like the light that streams from the sun, and evil as being a lack or an absence of that light, as darkness is what happens when there is no light. Darkness is not an existing thing. It is real, but its reality is more of a 'negative existence', and emptiness, a want of light. Evil is what happens when good is lacking." http://www.planetbahai.org/cgi-bin/articles.pl?article=226

Darkness is nothing to be afraid of. I just turn on the light.

Bubbie Dear: Thanks for the links!

I listened to both interviews on evil. The analogy you give to explain evil is a classical definition that is somewhat like Newton's laws of physics. These Newtonian laws apply only up to a certain point. It took an Einstein to explain the rest.

There will always be simple definitions of evil. My guess is that anyone who can be satisfied with the explanation that evil is just the absence of good will never be motivated to do the hard research like your friend Dan Siegel, who is going in a direction that I believe will give us serious clues as to why evil can take a hold. He writes: "A lower mode of processing can occur which involves a blockage of the higher regions from coordinating together with the lower ones. In this 'low road,' the mind becomes inflexible and impulsively reactive without the benefit of self-reflection or empathic understanding."

Lance Morrow says: "There are, however, no evilologists; the study of evil is not a scientific discipline, but rather a tabloid branch of the humanities..." He goes on to say that "The idea of evil has to be rethought...under new conditions. A lively awareness of evil, once part of any healthy mind, must be re-installed in the consciousness of the West. Without an awareness of evil, people become confused; they fail to anticipate its ruthless possibilities."

He adds: "The task is to recognize evil for what it is, and yet to respond to it with discernment." "Evil appears in an immense and subtle variety of forms---including, sometimes, the form of apparent good."

georgewesley: What is exciting about the work of Dan Siegel is that it clearly argues for a way of parenting that inoculates young children against hardship, stress, and even trauma and ensures that when they grown up and are parenting their own children they will not be inclined to the kind of "low road" behavior that is so damaging, so "evil." http://www.drdansiegel.com/Siegel.IN.pdf

"Dr Siegel...focuses on how the development of individuals, families and communities can be enhanced by examining the interface of human relationships and basic biological processes."

"His book with Mary Hartzell, M.Ed., Parenting from the Inside Out: How a Deeper Self-Understanding Can Help You Raise Children Who Thrive (2003) explores the application of this newly emerging view of the mind, the brain, and human relationships." http://www.drdansiegel.com/

People who have survived terrible evil have done so not by focusing on "evil's ruthless possibilities" but on good's pure simplicity. The former has us nervously hand-wringing and the latter leaves us calm and centered, at peace with a world in cataclysmic transition.

Bubbie Dear: If any group of people focused on the good's pure simplicity, it was the 5000 Tibetan monks who were butchered by the Chinese. They lost their monastery and their famed leader now preaches peace from India.

But now, the Dalai Lama has started to rethink his position, saying: "Terrorism is the worst kind of violence, so we have to check it, we have to take countermeasures."

When the exiled Tibetan spiritual leader and one of the world's leading nonviolence advocates, suggests that terrorism might require a violent response, I can't help but think that the topic of evil has just moved from pleasant thoughts of love to a more complex response.

Yes, it involves some hand-wringing. An investigation of evil requires responsible discernment and the especially hard task of figuring out how WE have contributed to the problem.

Lance Morrow writes: "Each side in a war always claims to be defending the right. Each side always conceives itself to be the injured party. Each side represents itself as the Good engaged in combat against the Evil. In the Balkans, a region suffused with an atmosphere of evil, all parties---Serbs, Croats, Muslims, and subsidiary players---present themselves as victims of the others' evil."

And...What is the struggle betweeen Islamist terrorism and Western secular industrial democracy except the confrontation of incompatible ideas of good and evil?

I believe we must do some hand-wringing if for no better reason than it starts us thinking about how to properly conduct our lives in a very complex world.

georgewesley: The subject of evil is clearly an issue you have given a lot of careful thought to and for which you have strong feelings. Your comments expand the scope of the discussion considerably, however, to include the subjects of pacifism and nonviolence and evil at an institutional rather than personal level.

I am not a pacifist. I believe in the right to self-defense which can include acts of violence. But please note I am speaking of a situation of personal safety. My comments above about enduring evil were intended to address the responses of individuals that contribute to their mental health and resiliency in the face of evil.

Safety and justice for all and peace in the world involves institutional response. It is my contention as a Baha'i that all institutional responses to evil in the world are ultimately doomed to failure without unity, and that unity must be spiritual and not just political.

I share Morrow's revulsion and yours at what was the situation in the Balkans in the 1990s. I am no more an advocate for Western secular industrial democracy than I am for Islamist terrorism. And I do try to take myself into account each day as to how I may have through my personal actions contributed to evil (darkness) in the world.

Bubbie Dear: I'm hopeful that in our heart of hearts, Wes, you and I are in agreement about evil whether it is at a personal or collective level. And, when Bonita asks "Is it possible to address our deeper connections...?" I, too, share your instinct that spiritual unity is the key. It's a matter of getting rid of the clutter.

The Exquisite Foolishness of a Grandfather

We have a friend, Tim, who was reminiscing about his grandfather, who bought a real fancy car many years ago after he hit a jackpot with a difficult business deal. It was a Paige Daytona Roadster, around 1925, with big spoked wheels and a rumble seat at the back. His grandfather had always struggled, selling construction materials, just getting by, and barely able to put anything by for a rainy day. For years, the family struggled financially to make ends meet.

When Tim was telling the story, he wondered how his grandmother felt at the time, seeing such extravagance. I'm sure she felt dismay, as there were shoes to buy for school children, and bills to pay. Yet, here is a man always scrapping by, always making do with little, then hitting a jack-pot. I loved how, regardless of routine measures of thrift, he treated himself to a considerable extravagance that validated his achievements. He didn't wait for someone else to pat him on the back and say something.

We have to consider, too, that kids will always get another pair of shoes, and the bills will always get paid - and no one will remember this. But, everyone remembered the new car, and what it represented to their father, as foolish as it may have seen. You'll see old abandoned cars laying in culverts, rusted out, abandoned, weeds growing under the axel, spiderwebs across the dash. All of them at one time held a promised moment, when they were purchased, a moment of exquisite foolishness. Everything else had to stand back and notice.

Our friend Tim's grandfather died many years ago, and yet here Tim is, telling this story, laughing and remembering.

Ruhiyyih's Cookie Extravaganza!

Ruhiyyih came bearing gifts last night - a platter of cookies she said she dare not keep in her little apartment, or she would eat them all! She had attended a "Cookie Extravaganza Party" with 12 of her friends from college. The purpose of the party was to provide an assortment of holiday confections, with a basket-full for each gal to take home for the holidays. Each friend brought a platter of her favorite recipe, which she then shared with everyone. Not a bad idea to simplify holiday baking!

Since she will be in Washington DC during the holidays, we opened our gifts early. She gave me a little coffee warmer to put by the computer...I was always forgetting about my coffee, and it would get cold. Now, if I can only remember to turn it on, then off. I bought Ruhiyyih a cute leather contact case, for her travels. It has a mirror inside, easy and efficient.

I made cappacino for her when she got up, as she had had a rough night on the sofa. Her brother, Taraz had too many midnight snacks, waking her each time. And the cats just missed her so much they would not leave her alone. So, Ruhiyyih got about four hours of good sleep. I eventually encouraged her to sleep in my bed, because I was going to be posting here, and did not want to disturb her. The photo above shows a "recovered Ruhiyyih". Amazing what a cappacino can do...

"Curious Morning Syndrome" by Robert Glenn

Here is another letter from Robert Glen, and I'll share part of it here with you:

At the risk of once more dividing the world into two main kinds of people, there are two main kinds of people: There are those who amuse themselves, and those who require others to amuse them. It's been my experience that artists are pretty much of the former kind. In their self-amusement, they're apt to be creative. Mornings can have special significance for these folks. They don't need to stay in bed awaiting the amusements to arrive--they're already there. They simply need to step into the amusement area.

For many artists, "Curious Morning Syndrome," or CMS, primes the pump for productivity and success. The blessing, of course, is not always evident to the young. Sleeping-in has ruined many an early career. And some folks must wait until middle or old age for CMS to kick in. Some think it's a gene. I think it's a habit. I had to learn it. It's a matter of setting yourself up to be curious about the outcome and potential of yesterday's efforts. Always leave something unfinished when you shut down the studio at night. Better still, leave several things unfinished. The easier, the more enjoyable the task, the more the likelihood of an early morning kick-off. At the same time, difficult challenges and problematic passages are often best attacked when you are well rested and fresh. While many work well late into the night, the cold grey light of dawn presents opportunities to the prepared worker. Surprises are uncommonly common to the curious at all times. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it has been responsible for birthing a lot of art. "How is this going to turn out?" is an essential question that an artist must ask. Curiosity tramples drudgery and fires up improvisation. Curiosity sets the hands and mind in motion. Self-amusement becomes the "muse."

Every day is a new birth and a metaphor for life--a relentless carousel with a joyous song and a view for every rotation. CMS is not just a matter of getting into the work area before the telephones of normal business hours begin to jingle. CMS means allowing your own unique "owned processes" to draw you there. Thus the miracle of creativity is regularly reborn. To see your world, your studio and the things of your hands within it, first thing, like a child, with baby eyes.

Earl Grey, Mordred, Barry and the Girls

A feature of our Ruhi Class Sunday evenings on "Reflections on the Life of the Spirit" is the predictable misconduct of our cat, Mordred. He is an old white cat who makes it his business to find someone wearing black clothing. Then, he climbs onto their lap, cirlces a few times and sits down. No consultation here, not even a glance upward. Barry wore black, so he was the hapless victim of Mordred's attention. It would appear that Barry is attempting an explanation, but Mordred, fist raised, is pressing for squatters rights.

This week, like last week, little boxes were offered at the end of the lesson. The top of each silver box was indented with a star, like a Christmas tree decoration. Inside was a little packet of Earl Grey Tea, and a crystal chunk of sugar that looked like a small stalagmite. This was supposed to illustrate the custom in Iran 100 years ago, when Russian sugar and a package of tea were intended as a gift of love to a visitor.

Also pictured above are Megan and Emmy, students in the class, who giggle about everything, always get the answers correct, and offer a lot of creativity to the evening.

Cast of Survivor - Guatemala

Ruhiyyih and I watched the 2 -hr finale last night -we were betting on Rafe. Here is a map of the area where they stayed, and for those who want an image gallery, you can find one here .

Stir-fry Shrimp in Black Bean Sauce

We had some friends over for lunch - Dave is of Korean-Scotch background and Matta is Persian-American. (She is a long-term friend of my sons). George tried out a great new stirfry recipe: Shrimp Stirfry in Black Bean Sauce. He stir-fried onions, carrots, zuchinni and spinach, then added the cooked shrimp. Add the Black Bean sauce, and serve over rice. Garnish with cilantro and sesame seeds. Just a nice winter lunch with old friends.

"Up In Alaska" - a Biker's Journal

Jill up in Homer, Alaska, has a wonderful journal that documents her biking excursions in a very inhospitable place. She says, "I'm a small-town journalist who likes to bicycle in horrendous conditions and eat goldfish crackers and Pepsi for breakfast. " That, was enough to get me interested in her lifestyle! I didn't know that it was possible to ride a bike on top of snow - but, listen to her describe it" :

"Conditions were not ideal for cycling today. We've had about 70 inches of snow up on the ridge so far this season, and none of it has had much time to melt - until today. I've heard these warm spells hit, but they're rather disconcerting. A month goes by with below-freezing temperatures, and then, all of the sudden, one morning you walk outside and don't feel the urge to take off in a blind sprint for climate-controlled buildings. And all of your coworkers say it feels like springtime; meanwhile, you're up to your ankles in slush and wondering - "now how in the world am I going to bike through this?" It ain't easy, I've learned. The best parts of riding today: while pushing my bike up one particularly slush-covered hill, I slipped on a patch of ice and went knees-down into the muck, thereby learning that my bike gets better traction than I do; and, I enjoyed watching my headlight beam dance all over the place."

Just a great post by a genuine trail-breaker. Scroll down and look at her pictures - there is a photo there showing the snow on her eyelashes, and the brightness of her smile.

Fracturing The Christmas Carols

No one can fracture a Christmas carol better than a kid. Here are some lyrics kids were heard singing at the top of their lungs :

We three kings of porridge and tar.
On the first day of Christmas my tulip gave to me.
Later on we'll perspire, as we dream by the fire.
He's makin' a list, chicken and rice.
Noel. Noel, Barney's the king of Israel
With the jelly toast proclaim.
Olive, the other reindeer.
Frosty the Snowman is a ferret elf, I say.
Sleep in heavenly peas.
You'll go down in Listerine.
Oh, what fun it is to ride with one horse, soap and hay.
O come, froggy faithful.
Good tidings we bring to you and your kid.
In the meadow we can build a snowman, then pretend that he is sparse and brown.

Mima Mounds and the Black River

Yesterday we loaded up the canoe, put Manheim Steamroller's Christmas music on, got a couple Subway sandwiches and some coffee, and headed south to the Black River for a day of paddling.

It was quite cold out - about 36 degrees, and out on the water it can get even colder. Fortunately, there was no wind, and the sun was out, making the river look a little more friendly than it seemed...you note that photo of the branches out over the water - yikes. Looks like a tarantullah, just spooky.

We paddled upstream, then allowed the current to take us back down again. Whirlpools scurried in the flow. Capricious little devils. There's always something that a whirlpool wants to say, but it's mute, like the dervish, caught up in it's little dance. Even the aquatic plants were swaying, undulating and shuddering, glowing in shallow water.

We've done various parts of this river, and it is the most lovely in early summer when the lily pads line the shore. Then it has the fragrance of wild mint, and small trout can be seen under cutbanks.

We explored the Mima Mounds after our paddle, hiking through the woods and out onto the open prairie. I was able to chat with the naturalist there about the mounds, which are just a mystery, mound after mound, all over the prairie. He was so knowledgable and I enjoyed visiting with him. At age 70, he has retired from an administrative position in geriatric psychiatry, and now is 'weeding' a prairie, removing invasive plants, like Scotch Broom, which must be pulled out or the natural vegetation gets choked out. It is an extremely poisonous plant.

A Home For Humankind

In his essay, "The Deeper Wound", Deepak Chopra asks, "Is there not a deep wound at the heart of humanity? If there is a deep wound, doesn't it affect everyone? When generations of suffering respond with bombs, suicidal attacks, and biological warfare, who first develop these weapons? Who sells them? Who gave birth to the satanic technologies now being turned against us? If all of us are wounded, will revenge work? Will punishment in any form toward anyone solve the wound or aggravate it? Will an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and limb for a limb, leave us all blind, toothless and crippled? Tribal warfare has been going on for two thousand years and has now been magnified globally. Can tribal warfare be brought to an end? Is patriotism and nationalism even relevant anymore, or is this another form of tribalism? What are you and I as persons going to do about what is happening? Can we afford to let the deeper wound fester any longer?"

"...is it not a rift in our collective soul? Isn't this an attack on civilization from without that is also from within? ... if you and I are having a single thought of violence or hatred against anyone in the world at this moment, we are contributing to the wounding of the world."

Although there are mystical aspects not easily explained, the spiritual dimension of human nature can be understood, in practical terms, as the source of qualities that transcend narrow self-interests. Qualities such as love, compassion, forbearance, trustworthiness, courage, humility, co-operation and willingness to sacrifice for the common good fosters a society that works for the common good.

"The profound and far-reaching changes, the unity and unprecedented cooperation, required to reorient the world toward an environmentally sustainable and just future, will only be possible by touching the human spirit, by appealing to those universal values which alone can empower individuals and peoples to act in accordance with the long- term interests of the planet and humanity as a whole. " ~ Baha'i writings

Is it possible to address our deeper connections, to make possible the reorganization and administration of the world as one country, the home of humankind? How do we distance ourselves from all of the hostility and hatred in the world, in order to do so? It requires a clear perception, uncluttered by strong emotion, unburdened by cultural and ethnic vendettas.

Kyosho EP Caliber M24 Model Helicopter

The hobby of model airplane building fascinates children and adults alike. My boys made a few, but they always ended up crashing into cars in the street. But, if you are serious about this hobby, model-crafting can last into adulthood, and then some serious building takes over, and some longer trips. I'll feature the younger set here, first, then take you over to the BIG GUYS, where mega-bucks and contests test the skill and accuracy of teams aiming to break world records. This is what The Ancient Mariner says about their helicopter:

Factory-built and complete with 4-channel FM radio, NiMH battery, AC charger and training gear, the compact EP Caliber M24 makes model-helicopter flying easy and fun. Maneuvers easily at a park or school yard on calm days — but excels when flown inside a large building! This little toy is 17 inches long and weighs 13.4 ounces. Details here, at <"The Ancient Mariner">, a website that offers many airplane models.

Maynard Hill - The Spirit Was Flying

Here you see model airplane builder, Maynard Hill, (L)donating this model to the North Atlantic Aviation Museum in Gander, Newfoundland. In his article, titled < "Two Sunsets and Still Flying" >, Hill describes his passion for model airplane flying and the competitions that make it fun:

"We made the first record attempt with the serial-number 19 model, identified as TAM (Transatlantic Model) 1 on our Web site (http://tam.plannet21.com). The launch was at 8 p.m. local time on August 8. The evening launch was made so that the model would arrive in Ireland during daylight hours. Minimum crossing time would be as short as 28-30 hours if there was a brisk tailwind. That would put it on the Irish coast in the dark. The maximum time had to be less than 40 hours. That was the maximum expected fuel duration."

"Herein lies my love for busting records, where you are competing with Mother Nature and the precise rules of gravity and physics. Performance is measured with stopwatches and tape measures. There are no gray areas; either you did it or you failed."

You'll want to read how he succeeded at this flight, who teamed up with him, and how he responded at the end, when he almost thought he had failed in his attempt. A good Saturday read, if you aren't bogged down in a shopping mall hunting for Christmas gifts!

Only For Beginners - With Patience Aplenty

GuyK says this< actually can be done -> and I'm beholding to him for the idea, cause when spring comes, and lazy flys bang unabashedly against my laundryroom window, I'm going to catch a few, cool them down in the freezer like it says to do, and build this little DITTY. Whoever imagined that a matchstick could fly! Who wants to race?

GuyK also says to watch out for PETA - is that the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals?

And The Winner Is........!!

From the comments below, under "Piece of Pie Anyone?", it looks like we've got some serious chocaholics - I'm one of them. And, with the holidays ahead, if you want great recipes, go here, to the < Pillsbury Bake-Off site >, where you can get recipes for entertaining, or to indulge your fancy. There is also a < monthly newsletter >, an e-mail filled with recipes, baking tips, promotions and more! Ya hoooooooo!

Piece of Pie, Anyone?

Want a piece of Lemon Meringue Pie? Banana Cream? <go to this website,> and select a piece of pie - just look at that selection. I'll take a slice of this Hot Apple Pie Sundae, compliments of Shari's.

Pushing The Limits

Q: What happens to a duck when it flies upside down?
A: It quacks up!

A duck walks into a store and asks, "Hey! Ya got any duck food?" The manager says, "No, We don't carry duck food." The next day the duck went to the same store and asked, "Hey! Ya got any duck food?" The manager said, "No, I told you yesterday, we don't have any duck food." The next day the duck went to the same store and asked, "Hey! Ya got any duck food?" The manager said, "Listen! We don't have ANY duck food! And if you come in here again and ask for duck food, I'll nail your feet to the floor!!" The next day the duck returned again and asked, "Hey! Ya got any nails?" The manager said, "No." So the duck asked, "Ya got any duck food?"

Just Remembering Pat

My friend Pat told me that as a child she and her sisters would play 'Communion', by flattening a slice of white bread, and letting it dry out. Then they would lay a quarter on the bread, draw around it, and cut out the little remaining circles. These were their communion wafers. They took turns playing the Priest.

Pat was drinking a can of Coke one day, and clipping her fingernails at the same time. She had quit smoking so had removed all the ashtrays from her house. When she finished clipping her nails, she didn't see an ashtray, so put all the clippings in her Coke can. Unfortunately, she did not finish drinking it.

Isn't it amazing, the little things we share, when we are with a friend!

Sumatra - the Pearl of Indonesia

"Imagine a tropical highland 1000 meter above sea level; a climate bright with colors, and cool like springtime in the mountains of France; a land where villagers leave food at night for panthers; off-shore islands with dazzling white beaches; native people who still hunt with bow and arrow; volcanic lakes and crater walls, covered with idyllic rice paddies and crossed by hair-pin roads; teak wood houses with antique furniture; steep mountains where only tigers dare; Indonesia's most beautiful ancient palaces; giant steep canyons; one of the world's unique matrilineal cultures (where property goes from mother to daughter!); delightfully hospitable people; the best food in Indonesia; and bizarre bull-against-bull fights more risky for gamblers than for bulls .... All of this you can find within< one small area: >the region surrounding Indonesias former grand capital, the gorgeous mountain town called Bukittinggi (literally: tall mountain). "

When you go to this website, check out the other< off-shore islands -> just a beautiful place to explore (especially, this time of year).

The Sea Gypsies - Expedition Thailand

Richard Bangs Adventures presents "The Sea Gypsies - Expedition Thailand - a segment that includes photos and video footage of the Tsunami off the island of Sumatra. "The day after Christmas, 2004, an enormous earthquake shook the seas off the island of Sumatra, generating a tsunami that swept across the Indian Ocean. Indonesia, the Maldives, Thailand, Sri Lanka, India and even Kenya and Somalia on the east coast of Africa -- 4,000 miles away -- felt the fatal touch of this natural disaster. Over 180,000 lives were lost, 130,000 are still missing and presumed dead, and several million lost their homes and livelihoods as a result."

Richard Bangs Adventures "explores the aftermath of one of history's most catastrophic natural events, visiting sites not only of destruction and loss, but of rebuilding and hope. It is a search for lessons in nature's wrath. In particular we visit the Moken people of Thailand's Surin Islands, a tribe known as the "sea gypsies," who suffered but one fatality in their traditional villages despite the havoc the wave wrought on the island. Schooled in oral traditions that foretold of the oncoming great wave, the Moken read the signs of the tsunami and fled to higher ground before the waters consumed their shores."

Lost in Virtual Reality - Net Venture

I've just experienced over 30 hours without internet service - my server was down. I went to the Library to use a computer there, and all of their service was down too. I felt like I had been dropped down in the middle of the Brooks Range, in Alaska, left to fend for myself, without any provisions. So, I said to myself, how can I best use this time? All kinds of things popped up in my head, and I did them all!

I got out for some good walks, in sunshine, (even though it is near freezing), finally went to the doctor about a tender tailbone (coccydynia), got some papers notarized, did Christmas shopping at the Mall, cleaned my house and did a little cooking. (Nothing remarkable there, though, just routine.) And, I made a few important long distance calls for HELP!, to Bonnie and Ruhiyyih, just to let everyone know my status (unreachable). Thanks you two, for extending a lifeline to my readers.

When I was at the Mall, I stood in front of the Sam Goody store, just a tiny hole-in-the-wall shop, where the Mall shooting took place last week. If you were watching CNN, this shooting was covered, and conveyed the big 'badness' of city life. Although, when I was there, everything was low-key, with shoppers mulling and oogling Christmas decorations. Sam Goodies is a store that appeals to youth, and it was a youth that decided to take his hostility out on 6 people, one of whom is still hospitalized, and paralyzed from being shot.

While I was at the Library I checked out several movies - just outstanding ones: <"In This World">. the story of two Afghan boys escaping from Pakistan through Iran, Turkey, Italy, France and Britain. The scenery is breathtaking and expansive, the indigenious people part of the movie. The hazards of the journey are life-threatening, but show just what desperate measures people will take to escape persecution. It is very sobering.

The other film, was "A Talking Picture" , by writer-director < Manoel de Oliveira, >(age 96). One has to love history and transition to appreciate the subtle nuances of this film, about a Portuguese history professor who takes her young daughter on a sea journey to Marseilles, Athens, Istanbul and then on to Bombay, India. The simple historical references by the young mother are a backdrop to the grand images in the background. Each city is shown as a celebration the unfoldment of civilization, replete with exquisite art and centers of learning. But, there is a tragic ending, with a terrorist bombing killing the young mother and child on the cruise ship. "A Talking Picture" speaks about eternal truths, and modern quandries in an age of transition. The dialogue is graceful and gentle, but asks a powerful quiestion: What's become of our history. (John Malkovich, Catherine Deneuve, Irene Papas, Stefania Sandrelli, Leonor Silveira).

I have to laugh - having your Internet server down is like being stranded in a snowstorm, out in the country. You WILL find ways to thrive and survive! And, I know it's late, but I will post my simple tribute to John Lennon below - it has been 25 years since we lost him.

"Imagine" by John Lennon

Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us, only sky
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope someday you’ll join us
And the world will live as one.

~ 25 years ago the world lost John Lennon

Dave Matthews writes, in Newsweek, "This is an absolutely stellar song. It's wrenching. Even if he'd written only "Imagine," he would have been the greatest songwriter of all time...He's just asking you to think about something, which is the genius of it: Imagine if everything we take for granted as unchangeable was not there, imagine what the world would be like. "

Call a Whhhhhhambulance!!

Hi everyone, this is Ruhiyyih, Bonita's daughter. Her server has been down all day, and as she put it, she is "aching" to get on her blog! She hopes that you will bear with her and check back later today for posts to show up. She is also eager to post comments on all of your blogs! Ever the overachiever, she has already prepared three days worth of reading material, so readers, beware! Hehehehehe. Watch out Mama, I know your password now :)

The Silent Perils of Victimhood

Every Friday a friend of mine comes over for lunch, and we visit for a couple of hours. She is of Japanese-American ancestry, and she frequently talks about her family, who moved to America after World War I. There is a difference between how she speaks about her ancestors, and how I talk about mine - she tries to fix a place for them in American Culture, as if three generations of a family were not enough to make them Americans. She hesitates, then brings up her family's history in the 'Camps' of California. These were permanent relocation camps set up for Japanese detanees, people who were herded up and confined until after the war.

"On December 7th 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. US citizens feared another attack and war hysteria seized the country. State representatives put pressure on President Roosevelt to take action against those of Japanese descent living in the US. On February 19th 1942 Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9066. Under the terms of the Order, some 120,000 people of Japanese descent living in the US were removed from their homes and placed in internment camps. The US justified their action by claiming that there was a danger of those of Japanese descent spying for the Japanese. However more than two thirds of those interned were American citizens and half of them were children. None had ever shown disloyalty to the nation. In some cases family members were separated and put in different camps. During the entire war only ten people were convicted of spying for Japan and these were all Caucasian."

<Victims of war time hysteria,> these people, two-thirds of whom were United States citizens, lived a bleak humiliating life in tar paper barracks behind barbed wire and under armed guard... it is hard to imagine, when I visit with my friend, that her family suffered such outrage. Not too many people talk about it, but my friend, who keeps alive the memory of her ancestors, as her traditions encourage, brings it up often to acknowledge them.

In <"The Joys and Perils of Victimhood">, by Ian Buruma, he writes: "There is a universal piety in remembering our parents. It is a way of honoring them. But remembering our parents, especially if their suffering remained mute and unacknowledged, is also a way of asserting ourselves, of telling the world who we are. It is understandable that French Jews or Japanese-Americans wished to slip quietly into the mainstream by hiding their scars, as though their experiences had been like everyone else's, but to their children and grandchildren this was not good enough. It was as if part of themselves had been amputated by the silence of their parents. Speaking openly about the communal suffering of one's ancestors - as Jews, Japanese-Americans, Chinese, Hindus, etc. - can be a way of 'coming out', as it were, of nailing the colors of one's identity to the mast. The only way a new generation can be identified with the suffering of previous generations is for that suffering to be publicly acknowledged, over and over again. This option is especially appealing when few or indeed no other tags of communal identity remain, often precisely because of the survivors' desire to assimilate."

Disillusionment During World War II

There were many brave Japanese-Americans during WWII that were courageous about the discriminatory proceedures, detested <the forced removal of Japanese >from their homes, and spoke out against them. Joseph Yoshisuke Kurihara was such a man:

"Joseph Yoshisuke Kurihara had been an active leader among the Japanese Americans and an active force for Americanization previous to the evacuation. Soon after he came to >he became strongly anti-American and an active agitator for resistance to the administration. He turned his back on America because he thought America had turned its back on him. He said:

Another gentleman came aboard, and seeing that I was an Oriental, he said, "I want you to come with me to the Immigration Office."At the office, I was told to take a seat in plain view of several officers. Noon came, so they went for lunch while I sat there waiting. Three o'clock came, I was feeling hungry and irritated. Finallly I asked one of the officers why they apprehended me and why they were keeping me waiting without lunch. He said the instruction was to bring all Japanese nationals in for questioning.

One of the officers obligingly took out some papers, called me to his side and started to ask the following questions:"What do you think of the war?"
"Terrible."
"Who do you think will win this war?"
"Who knows? God only knows."
"Do you think Japan has the materials she needs to wage this war?"
"I never was there; so your guess is just as good as mine."
"Are you a navigator?"
"Yes, I navigated boats for the last eight years."
"Are you good at it?"
"Never miss my mark."
"Do you know all the bays along the coast?"
"Yes, nearly all the bays and coves along the entire coast from Seattle to Ecuador, South America."
"Have you been a good American citizen?"
"I was and I am."
"Will you fight for this country?"
"If I am needed, I am ready."
"Were you a soldier of any country?"
"Yes, I am Verteran of the Foreign Wars, U.S. Army."
I was released that evening.

"Comin' In" By Sarpy Sam - Montana

Sarpy Sam over by Billings, Montana, has a wonderful blog, < "Thoughts From the Middle of Nowhere", > that features the finest Montana photography and the best journaling of the ranching experience. I've been reading 'Nowhere Thoughts' since I learned how to use a computer a year ago, and I enjoy his descriptions of ranch life, the politics that shape it, and the incredible beauty that is his home.

It is cold there today; I noticed that it was indicating -10 below zero this morning on the news. He has had 10 days of constant snow, and it makes getting around very difficult. His cattle are being supplimented with 'cake' and hay now, and he is concerned with getting roads plowed so the kids can get to school. Such inhospitable weather, yet such beauty. Such is the paradox of life. Browse over, and< check out his gallery -> it is an authentic Montana experience.

A Winning Strategy - Clear, Hold, and Build

The National Strategy For the Victory in Iraq > (full text)

Coccoon and Cosmos Fractals

Just the other night we were watching that wonderful PBS program on Fractals, which I like to call "the DNA of God". If anything gives me an image of the mystery of the divinity (and infinity) of creation, it is the Fractal, mathmatics that glorify color, pattern and change.

There is no way I can explain them, but <this site does a great job:> "Speaking loosely without technical terms such as Hausdorff-Besicovitch dimension, a fractal (coined by Mandelbrot in 1975) is a geometric pattern that is self-similar, i.e., if we zoom in on a small portion of the pattern we find a figure that is similar to a larger portion of the original image. Nature is filled with fractals as seen in such objects as mountains, shorelines, trees (branches, barks and roots), ferns, fluid flow patterns, cloud formations (with or without lightning), blood vessels and mycelial strands, whence fractals, we believe, project mathematical light on natural phenomena that are beyond the reach of Euclidean geometry. Fractals also provide us with objects of art. If we type "fractal gallery" in the Internet search engine Google, we will immediately receive a list of tens of <thousands of web sites that display >a variety of computer-generated fractal images, many of which are strikingly beautiful. This clearly indicates that a very large population not only appreciates the digital art form but also participates in the eye-opening creative activity realized by the modern computers."

Check out Tree's "Decadent Tranquility, and the post (Friday, December 2nd) that asks: <"What does tomorrow bring? >Where are we going? Will we ever get there? Why does the universe seem to conspire against us? Are we strong enough, bright enough to survive?Who has not asked these questions. On Bravo-Four-Zero, they banged around the vessel like a steel hammer inside an empty, tumbling, fifty-five gallon drum. Echoes of thought unanswered; a non-sound as tangible in the mind as the knots twisting upon knots in each passenger’s aching tired fatigued muscles."

You will find a wonderful story there, complete with the most wonderful, fanciful fractals!

Julia and Seahorse Fractals

Julia Patterns, Newton Patterns, Convergent Schemes, and Three Dimmensional Plotting are all explained at <Sekino's Fractal Gallery.> I think it is fun to look at the Mathematics provided by the <University of British Columbia.> It links websites that provide 'Math on the Web'.

g(z) = z7 - 3z5 + 6z3 - 3z + 3

Sekino's Fractal Gallery goes to great length to explain this pattern:

Where p = (0, 0) is invisible and g is an elementary function with its derivative g'. Although g is a function of a complex variable, the familiar rules of differentiation in the beginning calculus hold for g. In my program, g is always a polynomial which allows me to take advantage of the time-saving scheme called Horner's Synthetic Division Method to evaluate both g and g' efficiently. As you may have recognized already, this dynamical system is also known as Newton's Root-finding Scheme, and as such, it converges to a root of the equation g(z) = 0 quickly more often than it converges slowly or diverges. For this reason, the convergence scheme alone is usually used to process a Newton pattern, and moreover, M, the maximum number of iterations, for Newton patterns is typically about 50 instead of a minimum of 500 for Mandelbrot and other Julia patterns. If the degree of g is within 10, then my Pentium-2.8GHz machine can fill the computer screen by a Newton pattern within twenty seconds. A great mathematician Cayley tried without success to picture the Newton pattern of a second degree polynomial in the 19th century. This image is a Newton pattern given by the polynomial g(z) = z7 - 3z5 + 6z3 - 3z + 3 and the advanced convergence scheme, which is explained in Newton in the gallery.

A Little Tree-Hugger in Idaho

I think this little gal is wanting to pucker-up with a kiss, too, but she just can't reach. (Thanks to Bubbie Dear for the photo)

Blowing The Snow Away In Montana

These are photos of Frank (Oldeupher) at work clearing his driveway out in Montana. The photos were taken a few years ago - look at that snow!

Imagine, having to plow a driveway to get out to a main road, then hoping that the Department of Transportation has come by with a snowplow so you can drive into town - all of this so you can get to work on time.

Today's posts have been about PLAY, and something tells me that Oldeupher was having a good time spraying that snow up in the air. What a playful wonderland....now, I've got to imagine a snowman.

Questions Waiting For An Answer

If a person with multiple personalities threatens suicide, is that considered a hostage situation? Why is the word "dictionary" in the dictionary?
If "con" is the opposite of "pro," then what is the opposite of progress?
Why is a boxing ring square?
Just think how much deeper the ocean would be if sponges didn't live there.
If olive oil comes from olives, where does baby oil come from?
So what's the speed of dark?
After eating, do amphibians need to wait an hour before getting OUT of the water?
Why don't they just make mouse-flavored cat food?
Why for many does the sun lighten our hair, but darken our skin?
If you're sending someone some Styrofoam, what do you pack it in?
Why do they sterilize needles for lethal injections?
Do they have reserved parking for non-handicapped people at the Special Olympics?
Is it true that cannibals don't eat clowns because they taste funny?
If it's tourist season, why can't we shoot them?
Isn't Disney World a people trap operated by a mouse?
Whose cruel idea was it for the word "lisp" to have an "s" in it?
Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?
Since light travels faster than sound, isn't that why some people appear bright until you hear them speak?
How come abbreviated is such a long word?
If it's zero degrees outside today and it's supposed to be twice as cold tomorrow, how cold is it going to be?
Why do you press harder on a remote control when you know the battery is dead?
Why are they called buildings, when they're already finished? Shouldn't they be called builts?
Why are they called apartments, when they're all stuck together?
Why is a person who invests our money called a broker?
Why do banks charge you a "non-sufficient funds fee" on money they already know you don't have?
If the universe is everything, and scientists say that the universe is expanding, what is it expanding into?
If you got into a taxi and the driver started driving backward, would the taxi driver end up owing you money?
Why don't psychics win all of the lotteries?
What would a chair look like if your knees bent the other way?
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to see it, do the other trees make fun of it?
Why is a carrot more orange than an orange?
When two airplanes almost collide why do they call it a near miss?? It sounds like a near hit to me!!
Do fish get cramps after eating?
Why is bottled lemon juice made with artificial flavors but dish washing liquid made with "real" lemons?
Why are there 5 syllables in the word "monosyllabic"?
Why do they call it the Department of Interior when they are in charge of everything outdoors?
Why do scientists call it research when looking for something new?
If vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat?
When I erase a word with a pencil, where does it go?
Why is it, when a door is open it's ajar, but when a jar is open, it's not a door?
Tell a man that there are 400 billion stars and he'll believe you. Tell him a bench has wet paint and he has to touch it.
How come Superman could stop bullets with his chest, but always ducked when someone threw a gun at him?
Why buy a product that it takes 2000 flushes to get rid of?
Why do we wait until a pig is dead to "cure" it?
Why do we wash bath towels? Aren't we clean when we use them?
Why do we put suits in a garment bag and put garments in a suitcase?
Why doesn't glue stick to the inside of the bottle?
Do Roman paramedics refer to IV's as "4's"?
What do little birdies see when they get knocked unconscious?
Why doesn't Tarzan have a beard?
I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, "Where's the self-help section?" She said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose.
If all those psychics know the winning lottery numbers, why are they all still working?
Isn't the best way to save face to keep the lower part shut?

Wohba! - Be Very Very Amazed!

Wohba! was the first website I ever put up on my 'Favorites' when I started using a computer a year ago (yes, I'm new to this, even though we've had this computer for seven years.)

I've followed them throughout their explorations of space, the landing on Mars, and through all their academic antics, which are a lot of fun. Note these posts: Crab Feast, Cassini Meets Rhea, Saturn Ring Shine, Draw Toys, Hayabusa Update, Sing-a-gram, Weather Power, Balloon-cam, Chalk Up Another One, and Take a Spin. Their archives are amazing - go into June, the 21st, and look at the closeups of colorful bugs - these images could hang in a museum. And, check out "Take A Spin" (November 18th) - you take a line and spin it into a pattern, making the most fanciful drawings - no erasing is possible, so it is a challenge. Very interactive and playful!

Since today I'm focusing on PLAY, <this is a website >that NASA workers play with - go down to November 14th, and check out the International Space Station (ISS). To celebrate the occasion of the five year anniversary of ISS, Top Men at Wohba have found a most amazing photo of the station - in all its hi-resolution glory.

Make Your Fortune The Easy Way

When we were children we got a MONOPOLY GAME for Christmas. We played that game until all of us had acquired all the properties and hotels we desired, landed in jail more times than we could remember, and spent considerable time collecting $200 dollars as we rounded a corner. Wasn't life grand then, getting rich so quick and loosing everything without loosing your shirt!

Park Place and Boardwalk were the expensive properties, and inbetween them was a 'Luxury Tax' that was the bane of novice investors, making us loose our assets. If we got stuck on 'Community Chest' we had to follow the instructions, regardless of our own interests. North Carolina Avenue, Pacific Avenue and Pennsylvania Avenue were within easy reach, as we tried to lock up an entire portion of the playing board. That made it possible for any player coming by to get stuck with fines, which increased our assets.

As children, we favored the little metal tokens that seemed to describe our own unique inclinations - a racing car, terrier, iron, a top hat, a jumping horse, a cannon and shoe. Each seemed to reflect characteristics: A metaphor for the terrier implied tenacity and courage; choosing the top hat warranted an ambitious player, who wanted the finer things in life. Could it be that choosing the flat-iron meant that you wanted to 'flatten your opponents? Or maybe you wanted just to smooth things out. Hmmmmmm.

I suppose all the little tokens got lost under sofa cushions, or fell down through a floor vent. All of them eventually disappeared, and the money, houses and hotels were placed with the board-game, and stored up in an attac or down in the basement.

In the decades since, Monopoly has come up with new formats: Star Wars, John Deere, Disney, Shrek, Lord of the Rings, the American edition and the Anniversary editions.

Kids today are less interactive with one another, as we were then. They prefer a screen and play video games, oftentimes alone. When they are older, they get into computer games, playing with people all over the world. Our son Rahmat has designed one of these games, offering it on his website.

Just for fun, I explored some 'simple' sites, and I offer their locations here: <a puzzle > that you can arrange into a sensible image, and here: <Free Internet Games.> The one I enjoyed was< a virtual snowball fight > - it takes some practice, or maybe I was just too aggressive...all my players threw their snowballs as they all crashed into the center of the screen.

Just A Little Swing and Strut

Anyone who wants to know the craziest Dance Moves < , can go here > - moves inspired by the Knicks City Dancers. These moves are just beyond the Hip-Hop Craze. I'm afraid if I moved like this this guy, I'd fall apart!

Playing With Our Pets

<"My Cat Annie"> is a playful video that shows just how important playtime is to pet-owners. Check out his 'world cup', 'bi-lingual', 'fetish', 'stealth', and 'thief'. I liked 'fetch #1'...

Digital Art and Photoworkshops

Digitalart.org> is a massive online gallery of digital artwork from artists all over the world. It provides artists with a place to share their digital creations, receive feedback, grow their talent, and interact with other artists and visitors. In addition to the artwork, there are articles, guest interviews, tutorials, events and shows. Jobs and project postings offer skilled positions, and e-mail and digital art links are provided.

Thanks to Oldeupher, for this photograph. (Photos from the website cannot be copied.)

Sunday Evening Socials - Ruhi Class

Every Sunday evening for the past several years, we've hosted a study class, called the Ruhi Institute. It is based on "Reflections on the Life of the Spirit" - the history and teachings of the Baha'i Faith, and is an open class for people of all persuasions and beliefs. We like it because we like to offer hospitality, and a meal is always provided, a potluck. Art projects and storytelling are part of the program, and tonite we had a puppet show presented by the youth attending the class. I thought you might enjoy seeing their home-made puppets. I had to laugh at the youth - they were all laying on the floor behind the stage, trying to read their script. They did such a good job, adding a lot of giggles and creativity. One of the ladies passed out prizes - little candies in ornate boxes from Israel. Each box had a photo (one and a half inch square) - and when I cleaned up after everyone was gone, there were the empty boxes in all of their charm, showing the garden of Gethsemane's Church of Agony; Nazareth's Basilica of the Annunciation; Jerusalem's Cathedral of the Holy Sepulcher; Mount Tabor's Church of the Transfiguration; and the golden Dome of the Rock in the center of Jerusalem. I've put them all in a little basket, as they are too precious to throw away. These were 'keepsakes' from my friend Nancy's pilgrimage to Haifa, Israel this year.

The Power of Fun - From Bubbie Dear

Consider the following: The next time you take in a comedy, you can grin from ear to ear because you'll be taking care of yourself in ways you didn't even know.

Researchers found when they had subjects watch an hour-long funny video that the volunteers experienced a significant increase in <interferon,> a key chemical in the body's immune response. And, the higher level was still there the next day! Thats fun for you...not only can it give you an emotional life, it can boost your overall health.

For example, you may have heard that laughing causes the brain to release endorphins, special chemicals that act as natural painkillers. But did you know it also inhibits the body's production of stress-related hormones while boosting your supply of white blood cells (which fight disease)? Even listening to a CD or tape can offer health benefits, like contributing to lower blood pressure and heart rate. Case in point: In one hospital, heart patients gained the same benefits from listening to 30 minutes of classical music as they did from taking 10 mg. Valium, an anti-anxiety medication. Also, research shows that trying new and unusual things on a regular basis appears to stimulate brain growth which may help keep your mind agile as you age.

Getting the Murds Wixed Up Fer-Real

I got an e-mail from a reader today, and I just had to share it here - it just goes to show that the fun habit of puns, word-choices and word-mixups can create some amusing moments:

Working as an operator, I have to help people find places they are looking for, and often we have to spell them out because callers are on their cell phones, and it is so hard to hear them clearly. I had a call the other day that left me giggling so badly I had to get off the phone till I regained my composure. It was so good I wrote it down on a sheet of paper and passed it on to a gent walking back to his cubical. He read it and passed it to the next cubical, and you could see heads bobbing up and down from giggles as the note made it's way to about 50 people. The note said.."What kind of a business man names his business Menards, and expects a female operator to not laugh when some guy calls up and says can you help me find my nards!!!"

There was a call in Manhattan, New York, where a caller was looking for a place called Good Cheese. I typed and I searched and I retyped and researched, and no luck, so I recited back to him the scripted phrase: "I'm sorry, checking in Manhattan, New York(required to confirm city and state) for a store called "G o o d C h e e s e", spelled out to the caller one letter at a time to confirm spelling. The guy on the other end of the phone broke up laughing!!! he spelled back for me the store he really was looking for, Gucci, a high class retail store. We both had a good laugh!!!

Then there is the beauty salon, Curl Up and Dye, located in Nevada; or the dog grooming parlor, Indiana Bones and the temple of Groom.

Calvin and Hobbes

The Jewels of the Adriatic

When Ruhiyyih came to visit during Thanksgiving, she gave me two DVD's, featuring< Rick Steves' Europe.> One was on Southwestern Germany and Portugal, and the other features Bulgaria, Eastern Turkey, <Slovenia and Croatia.> I'm including these websites so you can pick locations of your choice, and (with the latter) actually go through a photo album of delightful images.

I enjoyed the Rick Steves tour on< Slovenia and Croatia >- the jewels of the Adriatic, that showed dreamy little mountain villages, like Ljubjana, and the Julian Alps. While viewing the DVD's, they showed the famous bee-keeping museum - the Muzeji Gallery in Radovljiske, and I will have a post highlighting this delightful place.

Slovenia is one of <Europe's most delightful surprises.> Humanfish.com says "Fairytale Bled, breathtaking Lake Bohinj, the majestic and rugged Julian Alps, the lush Soca valley and thriving Ljubljana - wonderful sights and at much less the cost than Western Europe. The amazing variety packed into such a small area makes Slovenia truly a "Europe in miniature". Covering a total land mass area of only 20,256 km2, holding a mere two million residents, surrounded by 10,124 km2 of forest and 216 km2 of vineyards, containing three majestic mountain ranges, Triglav being the ruler of all beneath him, carved by crystal clear rivers and lapped by 47km of sparkling coast. All this adds up to one word SLOVENIA."

Slovenia is wedged between East and West - Croatia and Austria, sharing also borders with Italy and Hungry. It is the smallest Eastern European country, about the size of Wales or Israel, with much of it mountainous, culminating in the North-West with the Julian Alps. A coastal range forms a barrier isolating the Istrian Peninsula from Slovenia's corner of the Danube Basin.

Bee-Keeping at the MuzejiIn Gallery

There are a thousand <great places to BEE on the web,> when you are interested in bee-keeping, one of which is the <Muzejiln Gallery> in Muzeji, Radovljiske. The picture on the left is a collection of doorfronts to hives, which are unique paintings in their own right. In the Museum, as you take your tour, the webcam will scan every hallway, every aspect of Bee-Keeping, and I've located the most fascinating area for me - the little doorfronts to the hive. <Take the tour >, starting at the doorway, and pan across the old architectural motiffs of the Museum. Then take the stairway into the building and <pan across the foyer> of this apicultural event. If you've ever wanted to tour an old mueusm alone, without distraction, here it is....enjoy.

The Clan Apis by Jay Hosler

This is the <Clan Apis> a great scientifically-based learning tool for students ( I can re-learn some of this, if I pay attention). In the <opening chapters of Clan Apis >we meet Nyuki and her sister Dvorah. "Nyuki is a larva and Dvorah is preparing her for metamorphosis. But Nyuki isn't very happy that her lap-o-luxury life as a larva is about to end... Especially when Dvorah tells her that metamorphosis will radically reorganize her body!" The following are some of the questions answered by the chapters on the Apis Clan:

External changes during metamorphosis
Shows Nyuki chewing her way out of her wax cell when she is ready to emerge.
An indication of the number of bees in a hive.
The role of the queen as the sole egg layer.
Behavioral techniques bees use to keeping the hive cool.
Swarming
Who usually leaves the hive during a swarm.
The tell-tale changes in hive behavior that proceeds swarming.
Why the queen is bigger than the workers.
How many eggs a queen lays in her lifetime.
The role of the queen as both sovereign and slave in the hive.
How the queen uses pheromones to control worker behavior.
What triggers the raising of new queens.
The behavior of queen piping.
Competition between the new queens and their mother.
How a swarm coordinates its search for new home.
How scouts convey information about potential nest sites.

"Nyuki finally faces her fear of the unknown in chapter 5, and assumes her role as a forager only to discover that she loves it! Nyuki works her wings to a nub as she collects pollen and honey for the new hive. Join our heroine in this final issue of the Xeric Award winning mini-series as she learns about the ancient co-operative relationship between flowers and bees from her floral pal Bloomington. And, of course, there is the return of everyone’s favorite dung-pushing beetle Sisyphus." With every chapter, many questions will be answered...there will be a quiz on Monday. (Just teasing).

Bee Hive Security

A long time ago, there was a beehive in the middle of a forest. Every day, as worker bees do, they would go out into their fields, gather pollen from the flowers, and bring it back to make honey. The bees had a problem, though, because every so often an intruder would come around, such as a bear who wanted the honey, or kids who thought it'd be fun to throw rocks at the hive. Finally, the bees got tired of it. Being the intelligent bees that they are, they built an alarm system for the hive. They built it such that one bee pulls a lever, which triggers the alarm that the bees will hear from the fields, and then the bees can come back to protect their home. There was one bee who was exclusively assigned that job, and he was aptly named the "Lever Bee." His job was to watch for potential adversaries, and pull the lever to raise the alarm. Now obviously, the security of the hive depends on this one Lever Bee. So he has to be constantly ready and on the alert to be able to do his job. And that, friends, is why people say, "I'm as ready as a Lever Bee."

A Foreboding of Things to Come

Mud Bay in Puget Sound

We got off to an early morning glide in the canoe over at Mud Bay, down by Olympia. I should have known by the name that we would be in trouble, but off we went, with an outgoing tide, paddling in extremely overcast, gloomy weather.

I'm not too partial of these paddles on somber days. Just the sky will begrudgingly offer a little solace, and the whole thing seems foreboding. We had very shallow water, with deep muck on the bottom, which can be dangerous if you capsize - you'll get rooted in the depths, and not be able to pull yourself out. We passed only a couple of dwellings - one was a beautiful abandoned brick home, with all the windows busted out. The other was this grouping of old fisherman shacks, up over the water at high tide.

The only consolation were the gulls and buffel-heads, and a pair of eagles. Hundreds of migrating birds were settling on the mudflats.

Mud Bay - Puget Sound

Because the tide went out as we started our glide, when we returned to our put-in place, there was a good 50 feet of mud that we had to walk across to get to shore. We found an old partially submerged log, and walked on top of it, most of the way. Otherwise, we would have sunk down about 8 inches in the mud, with each step. I got out of the canoe first, and pulled a strong rope as I walked along, pulling George in the canoe. When I could pull no more, he had to push with his paddle, to get the canoe up onto the mudflats as far as possible. I was very concerned that he would get mired, and not be able to walk out. Fortunately, mud boots (ordinary garden variety) allow the feet to just slide out if he was, and he would have to slide across the mud on his belly. He did make it, but fell once, covering half of his snowpants in the most retched smelling muck. Dead salmon and carp were lying along the shoreline, twisted in the most gruesome skeletal contortions with mouths gaping. Imagine, struggling to get out of that muck, and being greeted on the low bluffs by the dire image of salmon skins, with eyes eaten out by the crows. Oh my.

Walking In The Forest At Mud Bay

After we loaded up the canoe, we drove to a nature trail where we could hike, and it took us through a beautiful forest, with huge ferns, mossy logs, and tall evergreens. Snow was on the trail, and we noticed that someone had preceeded us, walking with their dog. The trail led out onto the tideflats, where a vast portion was covered in beachgrasses, saturated with wet snow.

Muddy Boots and Snowpants

I'm going to spray my boots off with the hose, then do some laundry... I'm glad I'm safely home, and not stuck in the mud. Mud Bay - not highly recommended for a gloomy, overcast day.

His Devotion Knows No Limits

Catching the Eye In Photography

Robert Glen is an artist that sends out two letters a week to other artists, and I'd like to share one with you:

Dear Bonita,

Yesterday Duffy Masterson of Ottawa, Ontario wrote: "I've been a photographer for longer than I care to mention and have recently taken up painting in acrylic. I find that all the subject matter has been expressed through my photography and not much, if anything, catches my eye for painting. There are always subjects to paint, but none that I want to paint. My wife and I are packing up and moving to the B.C. Gulf Islands in an attempt to spark the creative juices again. Have you ever run into this kind of block?"
Thanks, Duffy.

Your block is called PFS (Photo Familiarity Syndrome) and it's as common as influenza. Some of us fight it daily. There are many ways of looking at it and several ways of dealing with it. Taking photos is a creative act in itself. Some artists, as they move through their life-images, find that less and less interests or moves them. As it becomes more difficult to be surprised by joy in the external world, reality-based images become used up. The trouble with photography is that it uses up joy too quickly.

Also, by stealthily teaching dependence, photography can turn out to be dangerous. Unlike the purist and pre-photographic masters of landscape--Courbet, Corot, Millet, etc., by visual volume alone it is possible to become jaded. Moving to a new environment may not solve the problem. You need to realize that painting can exploit a different--I didn't say greater--range of feelings than does photography. Painting, in its most exalted forms, can bring another kind of creative imagination into the mix. With painting you have an opportunity to add a unique personal spin--to put a different kind of style and signature to your product.

For most of us, photography, in all of its marvelous manifestations, is one of a number of tools in the kit. An extreme purgation is to take your photo apparatus and shove it into a vault for a year. Forget you ever did it. I know it's tough for those of us who love to look through viewfinders and are used to collecting images in nanoseconds. In this deprivation, painting becomes more of a savoured event--a timely act of deliberation, consideration and contemplation. Painting becomes less capture and more conception. Worthwhile subjects begin to appear from nowhere. With independent painting you move into the lively and mysterious darkroom of your own mind. In this place something else again is sure to catch your eye.

Best regards, Robert
PS: "The expression of beauty is in direct ratio to the power of conception the artist has acquired."

Museum of Glass - Tacoma, WA

Black Vase - Proctor Street Fair

Calling a Halt to Wintertime Driving

For those of you that read Flitzy, you know that Bonnie and Frank (Bubbie Dear and Oldeupher) do some pretty dangerous traveling, coming over the passes from Montana to Washington - <Lookout Pass >and< Snoqualmie Pass.> These passes can be very dangerous this time of year, and I'd like to share part of Frank's e-mail, that I got yesterday, just to illustrate <how bad it can get...>

"The ride from C d'A wasn't too bad until we got off I-90. Lookout Pass wasn't near as bad as Snoqualmie had been. The snow started in earnest near Plains -then there is that high road that goes from there to Elmo and Flathead Lake.(Hwy 28, I think.) It was harrowing. Of course, unlike the Interstate, there is oncoming traffic. The snow was really blowing and the windshield was icing up. I'd have to pull off from time to time and clean the wiper blades. And when cars, and especially semis would come toward us the snow would swirl and you couldn't see. We almost bit it at one point. In trying to get over as a semi popped over a hill, my wheels went off the road. I didn't dare jerk to the left and overcorrect for that usually causes a flipover and I'd have flown right into the semi, and I didn't dare panic break for who knows what would have happened - and to the right was a borrow pit or worse. So I just steered the best I could straight ahead, hoping that the road was straight, while my speed decreased. Eventually I was able to see and the wheels came back on to the road. I probably wasn't going over 30 when it all started. Made it home in about 6 hours. No more winter trips like that again!"

Oranges On A Winter Day

The artist Julian Merrow-Smith sends me a postcard e-mail every day with a painting enclosed. I especially liked the colors in this one.

A Dog Named Mace

There was once a handyman who had a dog named Mace. Mace was a great dog except he had one weird habit: he liked to eat grass - not just a little bit, but in quantities that would make a lawnmower blush. And nothing, it seemed, could cure him of it.One day, the handyman lost his wrench in the tall grass while he was working outside. He looked and looked, but it was nowhere to be found. As it was getting dark, he gave up for the night and decided to look the next morning.When he awoke, he went outside, and saw that his dog had eaten the grass all in the area, around where he had been working, and his wrench now lay in plain sight, glinting in the sun.Going out to get his wrench, he called the dog over to him and said, "A grazing Mace, how sweet the hound, that saved a wrench for me."

Stones In The Field - MacAllister Stone

If you want a wonderful wintertime story, beautifully written, go here, to Stones In The Field, by MacAllister Stone. She writes about "Once Upon A Time" for her November 30th post... about a trip in winter that she makes with her father, out to the Hutterite colony:

"In the frosty pre-dawn, the colony women in their long black dresses, with a bright, print aprons and head-scarves were already at work in the communal kitchens, baking bread for the day and preparing breakfast. One of them would bring me a smoking chunk of spicy homemade sausage wrapped in a warm breadroll, and a mug of cocoa. She'd offer it with a smile, and a glance at my father for his permission."

A Life Rediscovered by Patrick Lane

Alice Munro says, "To read this book is to enter a state of enchantment." She is speaking of "What the Stones Remember". I picked this book up at the library, because I heard it was an about Lane's emergence at age sixty from a lifetime of alcohol and drug addiction.

He writes: "Today I realized that weeks had gone by and I hadn't once thought of drinking. What a strange moment. My whole life, my every waking and sleeping hour was once consumed by alco