Delightful Bloggers!

likeable-blog-500-2xHad to shout out to all of you delightful people whom I enjoy so much!  You are fun, you are interesting, you are thoughtful, and I enjoy visiting with you daily or as often as we are able to get together.

I can’t thank you enough for coming to visit my blog, and your interactions are very welcome and warm my heart.  I enjoy visiting your blogs too, very much.  Many of you take time to chat, even though it’s not set up specifically to do so, I enjoy the interaction very much.  Many of you  have become pretty special to me.

I’m very glad your all here.  Thank you.  For yor insights, your willingness to share, your stories, and your anecdotes.

Until tomorrow, enjoy the rest of Halloween.

Eerie (2)

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Anna was thrilled with her new home.  It was over 100 years old and filled with character, exactly the home she’d been dreaming of.  Wandering the mahogany lined halls she couldn’t help but revel in its rich beauty, her hand gently caressing the elegant sideboard gracing the long hallway.

Anna had been delighted the furniture in the home was for sale and she’d quickly jumped at the opportunity for they were all well cared for and luxurious.  Owing to the rooms generous size, she’d opted to add a few pieces she’d held in storage that had belonged to her parents.  The movers had arrived early and now they were gone, as she inspected the overall look.  If she were to label the look, she’d call it eclectic and it worked. She smiled delightedly.

A sense of peace surrounded her now.  As she happily wandered from room to room she stopped, closed her eyes inhaling deeply attempting to identify the various aromas that assailed her nostrils.  Ah, a hint of Liquid Gold had been used to oil the furniture.  The living room windows were open and a gentle breeze fluttered the white sheer curtains carrying a delightful mixture of fragrance.  She immediately identified lavender and smiled. That was easy enough since lilacs lined the porch.   Wandering closer to the front windows she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

Turning toward the kitchen she smelled the freshly made coffee and tray of pastry she’d laid out earlier.  Suddenly an unidentified scent whispered past. Startled, she opened her eyes quickly peering all round the room.  A delicate chill gave her goosebumps.  It was nearly dusk, and Anna turned on lamps around the room as well as the chandelier in the kitchen.

She jumped.  It felt as though something had touched her arm.  A hint, the lightest of caresses.  Again the unmistakeable scent whispered nearby.  Cologne.  A cologne she’d never smelled before.  Elegant, manly but nothing overpowering.  There, there it was again.  She quickly turned half expecting to find someone standing nearby.  There was nothing and no one to be seen. Just the subtlest of hints of a presence.  Anna wasn’t sure whether to believe what she felt or not. She’d never believed in ghosts and yet . . .




I couldn’t think of anything more eerie than pictures that have been captured with a “presence” that could not be explained.  These  have been verified as authentic, nothing has been retouched or added.  Now, if that’s not eerie, I’m not sure what would qualify.


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I couldn’t resist!  I had to do it!  I SO love Maxine.  She says what everyone thinks but are afraid to say on so many topics.  I could read Maxine cartoons all day, but then I’d get nothing else done, which is really what Maxine is all about, snicker snicker.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to do this again since I absolutely enjoy her.  I have to thank another blogger who posted the most hilarious Maxine today.  They were perfect.  Perfectly wonderful!  Seeing that, I went in search to see if I could find her.  Low and behold, I did.  Well, I read for ages.  I had to choose a few to share since she literally kills me.  Has me in stitches.  Enjoy!

I sincerely doubt it’s difficult being Maxine, since she has endless material.


Art that Speaks to You

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Line, form, shape, texture, space, value and color are the elements that make up various art forms. These basic components combined with principles of design are the building blocks used by all artists to create within every genre of artistry.

I am an art a·fi·ci·o·na·do (particularly that which speaks to me).  Since art is perception, and we all perceive art in various ways, our taste  obviously vary considerably in what move us.  Some prefer oil, others watercolours or acrylic.

As far as modern works of art, I’ve re-tweeted Mr. Afremov’s work  as I find his work so delightful and appealing.

There are so many examples, past and present.  Past works of art available in museums around the world are without a doubt, spectacular and that goes without saying.  I enjoy perusing these on the net.  Although beautiful, would never in all likelihood grace the walls of many of us. We can only observe with awe how beautiful they truly are.

I used to love to paint, draw, use oils, watercolours and acrylic.  Since we have a world of art available through twitter, fb and other outlets, providing awareness of these spectacular artists, we are in a unique position as is the art world.

I have been completely entranced with the photography that many have offered on WordPress’s site in response to daily photo offerings.  I would include all of your work if I possibly could, but there would be pages of links.  Besides being knowledgeable bloggers, with interesting and perceptive insights, there are so many of you who have a photographic bent as well. You will know who you are as I constantly speak to your work. I can’t help but do so.

I love photography.  Enzo Christopher@halpern_claude is a favourite.  His work simply put, is a work of art.  Spectacular in every way.  I encourage you to have a look for yourself and decide if it is true for you.

I could continue forever, for this has long been a passion of mine.  I’d enjoy seeing samples of art you enjoy.  Hopefully, you are enjoying a relaxed and delightful Sunday.

I will point out that I have no affiliation with any of the artists I’ve mentioned.  I simply find I’m greatly moved by their work and wanted to share them.



Do you remember “mother may I” or “father may I”?  It was a game we played as children.  “May I take one giant step forward?”  The person on the other side of the play-field would say, ” Yes you may, or no you may not”.  “You may take  1/2 step forward.”  The idea was that one of the opponents would reach him/her and become the one giving out instructions.

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Childhood should be a time of wonderment and awe.  Our imaginations running wild with Jack and the Bean Stock (giant).



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In Canada, we had the Friendly Giant along with Jerome the Giraffe and Rusty the Rooster.  We tuned in to watch as the friendly giant read a book daily, the camera focused in on the pages so you could read along, while Jerome and Rusty acted as side-kicks. It was fun to watch the camera follow the “giants” movements up to his window where he would call Rusty and Jerome to join him.

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The best movies and plays involve giants and fire the imagination.  Who could forget King Kong

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We loved to pretend and scare ourselves silly.  It was almost a right of passage.

Even as adults, we watch “scary” movies, and what the protagonist must overcome is epic, gigantic.  Whether it be an “imagined giant” in the form of a corporation, a hostile takeover, or an abuse of power by an individual that crosses the hero/heroine’s path, a battle ensues and must be overcome.  Perhaps it is a town or a single individual, we are energized and involved as the battle rages on as we root for our hero.  Maybe the ever-present foe hovers in the background (the giant adversary) prepared to fight another day.

What of our own flaws, or “failures”, our desire to overcome a debilitating shyness, fear of heights, enclosed spaces, fear of public speaking.  Any of these instances can seem “gigantic” monumental to overcome.

The giant battle always makes for an unforgettable story, and often one we return to read again and again.




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Since Halloween is nearly upon us, I thought I’d give a quick shout out to the eeriest day of the year, and one celebrated by children especially and adults alike.

Halloween is a time of celebration and superstition. Perhaps it originated with the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain when people lit bonfires and would wear costumes to ward off roaming ghosts.

In the eighth century, Pope Gregory III designated November 1 as a time to honor all saints and martyrs; All Saints’ Day incorporated some of those earlier Celtic traditions. The evening before was known as All Hallows’ Eve and later Halloween. Over time, Halloween evolved into a secular, community-based event characterized by child-friendly activities such as trick-or-treating.

In a number of countries around the world, as days grow shorter and nights get colder, people continue to usher in the winter season with gatherings, costumes and sweet treats.

Today it is a day of fun in which to dress up, play games, and enjoy an all too quickly passing event that some revel in. It’s delightful to watch little faces light up as they attempt scary entrances, their creativity truly a delight.  So for all you would be ghost and goblins, I hope the upcoming day is filled with great fun and enjoyment.

Enter if you dare!


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Bridge (2)

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Some people have such an elegant way

Of bridging the gap and therefore allay

Concerns or fears or shy retreat

Through loving words and care so sweet

Encouraging, enlisting strength to meet

The daily rigors of life continually upbeat

Never defeated by life’s demands

Full force they greet the day and understand

There is life and joy and fulfillment to be had

If only we reach out a helping hand

To those too innocent to stand alone

Ushered through life too easily blown

Speared by judgment and power abused

The strong will bridge the gap unexcused

To help the young blossom and grow

And reach yet another large plateau

Of confidence, footing assured

Passing the baton reassured

The knowledge assistance had

Shall leave the tender shoots clad

In a more sure-footed attitude

To reach man or womanhood










I love bridges!  The architecture, the planning.  I find them beautiful.  Please enjoy.These are pictures I’ve borrowed and all credit goes to the photographer who took them. No idea how to contact the individual people, so I’m hoping they don’t mind I used them.

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There has been much said about expectations.  From “your expectations are too high” to “you have no expectations” to “your expectations are too low”.

Some become disillusioned when their expectations are not met.  Does that mean their expectations were unrealistic, or simply that the other party involved wasn’t concerned or aiming to meet those stated expectations?

Conversely, what of those who are devoid of expectations, as life has washed them dry, leaving them to believe any expectations they may have could not or would not be met?

Is there a middle ground that fits all?  Or is it incumbent upon the two parties involved in any given situation to hash out what their expectations are and whether they are realistic for both parties?  Must one walk away, realizing they can’t possibly fulfill said expectations, or can the other party live with and acknowledge an attempt at reaching those loftily held hopes by the other(s) involved is acceptable? Must someone participating in the relationship become completely overwhelmed in their attempt?

A presumption by one party that the other(s) will automatically conform or reach their unstated goals for the relationship whether working or personal, is folly in and of itself.  Presume “makes an ass of u and me” and it does.

What of assumptions?  Without speaking your mind, stating your hopes, everyone involved is left in a quandary, left guessing, and thereby open to making a mistake and “assuming” they understand the situation, thereby leaving both parties unfulfilled.  One because their unspoken expectations were left unmet, the other disappointed they haven’t met those expectations, thereby feeling they “missed the mark” and everyone is left  dissatisfied.

A working relationship requires effort, clear communication, respect, dedication, and yes, expectations.  Expectations clearly outlined and a thorough discussion that leaves everyone in a position of understanding, therefore acceptance.  If a party in the relationship doesn’t make any attempt to reach the agreed upon expectations, reevaluate the situation, make sure you can live with the status quo to remain happy.

In hindsight, I realized why our relationship failed.  My expectations weren’t met by Kevin.  He hadn’t tried.  In reality, I’d never really outlined what I expected of him, nor him of me.  We floated, literally, mistakenly, on a cloud of “love”.  The cloud dissipated over time and I was left disillusioned and saddened. It took me awhile to understand that had been the problem, our problem.  We’de parted ways, perhaps because we were too young, too immature, too unaware of the stressors of life, and perhaps we didn’t try hard enough.

Thankfully, our folly hadn’t involved anyone else.  We parted on fairly good terms.  There was no bitterness, hatred, jealousy or revenge involved.  We simply had nothing left to work towards. 

Today was the fateful day.  We were to meet for the first time in over eight years.  I was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner since we were both involved in similar professions.  While Marco was a builder, I was in real estate and our company was contracted to find available land for projects involving mid-level buildings that were designed to encourage entry and lower level professionals to obtain apartments and condos that were available for sale.

I felt both trepidation and excitement.  After all, we hadn’t parted on bad terms, and I wasn’t expecting acrimony of any kind.  Certainly, for my part, I had no bitterness toward our failed partnership.

Speak of the devil, there he is.  I’d spotted him immediately across a crowded lobby.  He looked more attractive, with his tall and fuller build.  He’d obviously been working out.  He was always health conscious, not obsessively so, but he took care of himself eating well and working out daily.

I knew the moment he spotted me.  He turned, faced me, and eyebrows lifted, sending that sexy smile my way as his brown eyes warmed. He headed to me, hand outstretched.  “Ava, lovely to see you again.”

“Marco, you’re looking very fit and happy.”

“I am,  Ava,  very.  This new project purports to be a special one, close to my heart.”

“I remember.”

Marco seemed surprised at my answer as if unsure I’d remember.”

“How is your family?”

“They are well.  Emma and Jason have two little ones and a third on the way.  Gary is finishing college and entering university.”

I laughed, “He still hanging on to your every word?”

Marco laughed, “Yeah, somewhat.”  His following smile was slightly embarassed.

He looked over at me, “I have something to do, but after, would you join me for dinner?”

“I’d like that, Marco.  I won’t be free for a couple hours, say 7:00 at Angelo’s?”

“Sounds good.  I’ll meet you there. I remember how independent you are.  You like having control over coming and going.”

He remembered that.  “Yes, I do.  Although hopefully I’ve grown some and control isn’t quite such an issue.” He seemed surprised.

“And you, as I recall, railed against my independence.  You felt I should be handled with gloves.  Gloves I didn’t require.”

“So, we have both changed, grown.”

“Perhaps our expectations of each other . . .”

“I’m sorry, Ava, I have to go, I’m on a tight schedule today.  But I’d love to continue this discussion over dinner.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”  He reached out and touched my cheek with his fingers an expression of anticipation and perhaps pleasure momentarily lit his eyes and certainly in his tentative touch.

As I walked away I thought, this could be something.  I decided, I’d like that.  From his reaction, perhaps Marco felt the same.  Time would tell.



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I would rearrange my life for you

To make everything brand new

My love for you is strong my dear

I always want to have you near

To share our life together forever

We would laugh and joke and banter

For all seasons we would enjoy

Our love open free no artifice employ

No secrets between us there would be

To you I now come and on bent knee

I supplicate this my appeal

Forever mine would for you remain

Happiness joy and peace attain

Together we work as a team united

Our hopes and dreams well blended

As we share our lives now rearranged

Our love for each other unchanged

Could this dream of us come true

And though the world around a zoo

Remain united and as one

Outside influences to shun

Making our life together whole

Forever together to console

When life’s bumps should arise

A plan of attack we devise

To remain together a team of two

Our love so solid through and through.






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Smoke and mirrors create the illusion

And for some, it’s great amusement

By those magicians, intent on confusion

Smoke and mirrors to continue allusions

To shroud answers in their execution

Whether through words or actions

We must now focus, fiercely our attentions

In our mind to see through all the confusion

With answers, we sincerely seek a conclusion

“Smoke and mirrors!  That’s what you create,” I grumbled.  “You have no intention of coming clean with responsible answers to our questions,” I railed.

“There will be answers when the time is right!” he hollered to the crowd.  “I cannot give you what I do not have!”

“You know the city is falling apart!  We need strong leadership, direction, we need answers!” I yelled in return.

Martin stepped off the stage, a roar of discontented voices filling his ears. He walked toward his opponent, “Marion, you outdid yourself,” he commented a half smirk on his face.

“I did what is right!  The citizens of this city should know what your plans are.  We elected you, did we not?”

“Yes, yes you did!”  He grinned. “I still can’t give you answer I do not as yet have.  Believe me, I’m working this, as expediently as possible.”

Turning to look at the placard carrying crowd, she said, “It would seem not!”

“They wouldn’t be up in arms if you’d calm down and stop using rhetoric to incite them.”

“You think this is a riot?” I stood in shock.

“These people,” I gestured toward the crowd, “are feeling like yesterday’s newspaper, crumpled and rumpled and ready for the fireplace of your warm conciliatory speeches.”

“You are inventive, Marion, I give you that.”  He paused, “You keep doing what you do, and I’ll keep doing what I do.  Hopefully, we’ll get to the same point, if not side by side, at least together,” Martin exclaimed.  “I do want the same thing you do,” he assured her.  “It’s important that our citizens feel safe, secure, and know that there will be housing for everyone displaced by the changes the city needs, in order to grow.”

“It seems “displacing” thousands of people in the process, with literally nowhere to go, while you rage through the city, tearing down homes and expropriating others, isn’t going over well.”

“Marion, you’re misconstruing the situation completely.  We are providing homes for the displaced.  No, it’s not in the same neighbourhood, but it’s as close as we can make it.  There will be homes for each person involved.”

“Will you go on record, stating unequivocally that is the case?”

“Marion, you know I can’t, not yet.  There’s still some red tape to cut through.  I will promise, though, you will have answers, the second I manage to . . . ”

She turned and walked away, anger emitting from her like a volcano ready to erupt.  “I still expect that date!”  He called after her.

That stopped her in her tracks. Turning to stare at him in horror, she said, “When hell freezes over, Martin when hell freezes over!”  Head in the air, nearly stomping in agitation he could almost here the “grrr” he was sure emanated from her lips.  He smiled.  Tomorrow was another day.

Eagle Lady

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It was in response to something she’d written. It gave me pause then, as it does now.Earlier I mentioned this to liza regarding her photo/blog because it relates amazingly.

Many years ago, I held a variety of titles at the C of C.  The responsibilities of the job included taking literally hundreds of calls per day, obtaining the information regarding what lodging the caller preferred, Hotel, Inn, B&B, and all the pertinent data and pairing the visitor with an appropriate accommodation.  It was a job I adored.  We provided as many available rooms as the town had and posted the remaining rooms at end of day.

We booked Ferry passages and rooms on the other end of their destination as well.  I went the extra mile and even provided trips for some including rentals, bus routes, airplane flights, across Europe, Canada, The States, etc.  You get the idea.

Right from my first day, Eagles arrived and posted themselves in a tree across the field, beside the Bay in a monstrously huge tree.  There were three.  Two parents and a fledgling.  This would change with time, and other Eaglets would follow.

Every day, the adult eagles would arrive and station themselves in the tree.  I’d watch them with rapt delight.  It soon became apparent that their arrival coincided with a change in the weather.  When they appeared, it would rain.  When they did not, it would not rain.  I began forecasting the weather daily upon their arrival or nonarrival.  (The aches and pains of weather change, notwithstanding.)

Many laughed at my predictions, for the skies were blue and a warm breeze whispered.  Sure enough, without any warning, the skies opened up and it poured!  This wasn’t an isolated event.  It soon became a regular event.  I never mentioned it to anyone since it seemed so peculiar, unusual, implausible.  Yet it happened daily, weekly monthly.

One day, about two months before I changed jobs, a visitor from the southern states came in asking if the “Eagle Lady” was here, that they’d heard so much about her.  I had no idea to whom she was referring.  At my perplexed expression, she said, “She tells the weather according to the Eagles.”  You can imagine my shock and stupefaction. I had to ask her how she’d heard of this woman.  She said, “Everyone knows about her.”  That still hadn’t answered my question and I admit I was still in a state of shock and wonderment.  She went on to add that many of her friends had made this trip, met her, and she’d showed them the Eagles.

I took them out behind the building and showed them the Eagles, currently nested in the tree.  “How do you do it?”  I took the time to explain the Eagles reactions, we noted they were sitting high amid the branches, they took pictures and left.  The following day they returned and asked how the Eagles were doing.  We went and checked. They weren’t present.  “So you think it’s going to rain.”  We all looked up at the sky and witnessed a few whispy clouds.  They said, “So, rain?”

I responded, “It would seem so.” And, it did, it rained buckets!  Later they returned, absolutely delighted and took my picture.  It’s a moment that I remember with great affection.

It ties in with liza’s poem and I had to share these incidents because it made me re-think the instances with the eagles.

My eagles are still with me today.  They have followed me on every move to every location, and show up often when I’m a guest elsewhere.  I am humbled and delighted they were there then and are here now.  Coincidence or a sign?  You be the judge.

I encourage you to read Liza’s blog if you haven’t already done so, as you may find it as fascinating as I do.


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I read Sheryl’s post regarding masks with great interest.  I thought it was a noteworthy topic and decided to continue the subject.

We all wear masks, not just at Halloween, which can be a great deal of fun, especially the beautifully decorated ones, with either lacy edging or fun colours.

I was thinking more along the lines of the masks we wear depending on whom we are with.  Often we wear a mask at work, especially in a new job, putting our best foot forward, letting little of our own personality shine through.  One because we are “learning” a new job and it’s intricacies.  Two because we are watching the interactions that go on, getting a feel for the dynamics we are involved in.

More importantly, we put on masks to disguise our true feelings, our true selves from the outside world.  Often it becomes so ingrained it almost becomes “us” and who we are.  The “real” us becomes hidden, even from ourselves, so we truly don’t know who “we” are anymore.

Could it be because we’re taught often, not to rock the boat, don’t make waves, or there is a right and a wrong time for this discussion, difference of opinion etc.   Perhaps, this is why as a society we have become so “sensitive” or perhaps “insensitive” would be a better word, to so much, even intolerant.  We no longer look at the big picture, putting the thoughts words ideas or conjecture into context, or even dismissing them as ridiculous instead of perceiving them as a “threat”.  The question is, a threat to whom?

When we put on our “big boy and big girl” underwear, step back and take stock, we often realize there is no real credible threat in what is being said.  Yes, I realize we often think if it’s said once, no problem, but we tend to believe it if we see the same thing in print three or more times, we change our opinions.  That’s when investigation or fact-checking becomes necessary, delving into the meat of the situation instead of reacting to it or dismissing it.

On a personal level, I know I wore a mask forever.  I would stand at the door, prepared to leave, and relax and inevitably put on my mask, my mask for meeting the outside world. I really wasn’t any different in how I reacted.  Still, there was an invisible wall that I’d erect that my friend pointed out one day.  At first, I had no idea what he was referring to.  What mask?  How was I putting on a mask, how was I different?  This friend knew intimate details that I was facing, not just a crossroads, but an inner struggle of such magnitude that it would take many hours, days, weeks, months and yes, years to come to terms with.

I didn’t feel it was necessary to wear my “heart on my sleeve” as it were and allow anyone else to know of the deep-seated turmoil I was endeavouring to overcome and work my way through.  That mask effectively protected me until such times as I was able to handle the intricacies of the situation before me and how it impacted both my family and me.

Therefore, I often in hind-sight, feel that a mask is our own protection against the onslaught of too much information, too much emotion, and a protection against those who would use our insecurities, our indecision, our vulnerability against us.

Perhaps there is a time and a place for a mask, as long as the mask doesn’t become fixed and become “us” and we are able to look upon ourselves at least, with clarity.








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“Banned” not a word I personally take lightly.  It has been thrown around so much, that many don’t understand the significance of the word.  It’s lost its original concern as a result.  “Banned”used to cause people to sit up and take note. These days we are desensitized to the totality of the meaning.

Back in the day, we jumped when we heard a book was banned, whether by a government, a group, political, religious, moral or less often commercial entity who had the clout to make any book article or newsworthy item, unavailable to the public.  In particular, removing said books from the shelves of a library, bookstore, or classroom because of its controversial content.

In today’s society, where everyone seems so incredibly “touchy”, anything said by one individual, another takes exception to and controversy quickly erupts.

Much information has to be read carefully in order to ascertain it’s true meaning and requires reading between the lines and cannot be taken at face value.

In some cases, banned books of the past have been burned and/or refused publication. Possession of banned books has at times been regarded as an act of treason or heresy, which was punishable by death, torture, prison time, or other acts of retribution.

“The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” written by Mark Twain,  was the fifth most frequently challenged book in the U.S. during the 90’s for example. James Joyce’s Ulysses was banned on sexual grounds. There are many others we could add to the list as the list continually changes and grows.

I feel that it’s a very important topic in today’s society when corrupt and unethical politician’s in particular, seek to stop the flow of information to the public about the tactics, antics and dirty pool constantly used to sway the public vote.

I suppose the import would be greatly increased if it relates to your particular interest whether that be religion, politics, or informative material.

Really interested in your take on the subject, so drop me a line, let me know what you think.  Where, who, when should a book or publication be “banned”.

This brings up a side issue, that of the internet, where information flows freely.  Sometimes, confusingly, as information can always be twisted to any particular viewpoint and certainly requires a great deal of fact checking to ascertain whether it is fact-based, valid, or an opinion or personal bias.

Thanks for reading my “rant”.  Take care, talk to you again soon.





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It’s amazing how special tiny can be.  Perhaps you like Tiffany’s little blue boxes with something special tucked inside.  Maybe it’s tiny tea sets to share with little ones.  Could it be tiny succulents, toys, or something else?

I had to include several pictures of “tiny” since these are astounding to me.  The creativity, time, attention, ability, are simply mind boggling.

From a tiny seed, a tree can grow.  From one tiny thought, an idea becomes a way of life.  From one tiny raindrop, a ripple effect occurs.

I could go on forever as this “tiny” encompasses so much more!





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Amy hated anything artificial.  Artifice insulted her on every level and the new owner having recently bought Henderson’s old Inn absolutely infuriated her.  She’d had a couple of run-ins with his assistant already and was guaranteed there’d be more.

The Inn, now called Sunrise Inn, was smack dab in the middle of the intersection.  Well, ok, not the middle, the corner.  Their Inn had always taken the lead, indispensable in promoting the Christmas Season with a plethora of handmade decorations. They had been very involved in the Christmas lighting contest every year!  Their endeavours were, to put it mildly, a work of art!

The new owner, it seemed, could care less, and had obtained fake trees, fake garland, fake snow and well, fake  everything!  When Amy noticed the latest addition to the Hotel, she was fit to be tied!  She thought James got the message and was more sympathetic to what the goal of the town was.  Various business enterprises had approached his assistant at the town hall meeting.  It seemed not!  What the hell was that monstrosity?

Sitting smack dab in the middle of the Hotel lawn was the most obscene fake Santa on a sleigh, basically the size of Mount Rushmore for god’s sake, she’d ever seen!  Instead of backing down, coming to some sort of agreement, he’d gone the other way, rubbing it in their faces.

Amy  was infuriated!  Slamming her car door, she raced up to the front steps and literally pounded with her fist on the Inn door.  When no one answered, she resumed pounding, determined she wouldn’t stop until someone answered the damn door!

She’d continued without let-up while staring at the artificial and disgusting display and hadn’t heard the door open and was pounding on something softer than the door, and quickly turned to find herself face to chest with a firm and broad chest. Startled, she hopped back a step and stared up at him, eyes huge, cheeks pink with effort and surprise at seeing a man there.  He grabbed her wrist quickly hauling her back to safety as she’d retreated so far she was in danger of slipping down the steps.  Smiling at her discomforture, he said, “No, Amy, I’m not a door.”

Shock held her momentarily silent.







The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Oct. 22/16

Hi ho Hi ho it’s off to work we go, or perhaps not.  Perhaps not, perhaps we yell horray it’s friday!  Either way, who doesn’t want to stop to blog? Blog about who is running for President, or who is in the limelight? No, who is our favorite star in a movie? Ok not really.  I’m with you. We have more important things to write.

lol my first attempt, not great! ho ho ho!

Ping Back and Blogs

I’m going to give this a try, and I say try, liberally, since I’m not sure what I’m doing.  Since I love writing about anything, and wordpress has given this delightful opportunity with it’s Daily Prompt, I’ve literally been in seventh heaven.

It’s quite astounding how much and what can be written with a single word prompt.  Everyone comes up with such a variety of takes on the subject of the day, that it is heartwarming, delightful, intuitive and fun to read.

If your an avid reader such as I, then you’ll be delighted with this wonderful opportunity to write yet again, on “whatever” comes up.

Now, I must thank Linda (if i may be so bold) in her generosity in explaining pingback and for offering such a delightful chance to participate.  So here goes, pingback! see if it works lol  If not, it will simply appear on my blog and I’ll have to try again.  Have fun all!



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Having been a volunteer for many years, I know first hand the delight of being involved in sharing, in giving on behalf of others, especially a cause near and dear to your heart.  It was hard work, no doubt about that.  It took real dedication and perseverance.

On this occasion,  however, I was spearheading a small gathering of fellow colleagues, to pay homage to a volunteer who participated endlessly and selflessly on behalf of several causes she considered worthwhile.  Not occasionally but for many years.

In two days we planned to gather together, a small intimate group, on her behalf to express our gratitude to her because of her faithful integrity.  She spent hours, days, even weeks, preparing many events during the course of the year. We wanted to celebrate her generosity of spirit, her tenacity at overcoming hurdles and obstacles but especially because she gave of herself tirelessly and always without complaint.

Unfortunately, Franny wasn’t anywhere to be found.  I’d called several times and even dropped by her apartment.  Nothing.  What should I do?  Where had she gone? We couldn’t very well hold the event without her, it was in her honour. I grabbed my cell and began calling the other women she’d worked with, to determine whether anyone else had seen or interacted with her lately.

She shied away from cameras and refused the limelight.  When anyone came close, tried to involve her in any kind of publicity, she preferred remaining behind the scene, standing back, never in the spotlight she simply melted away.  She’d quickly step aside and allow others to take any credit due.  No, she ran!  It wasn’t false humility or lack of ego.  It was something else, but I wasn’t sure what.

Her personal life was an enigma. I suddenly realized that although I’d worked alongside Franny for over five years, I knew very little about her personal life.  We hadn’t shared a single meal or evening together.  In fact, I doubted any of the other women had been any closer to her than I.  She’d engage with us, her laughter infectious, her spirits high, her determination endless.  Yet, for all that, she distanced herself on an intimate level.

I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d somehow heard about our little endeavour.  I decided another pass at her abode was in order and returned once again.  Since someone was leaving as I approached the door, I hustled through the opening and hurried on up to her apartment on the second floor.  I knocked and knocked again.  It was on my third attempt that a man rounded the corner and asked if he could help me. After I explained my concerns, he responded quietly, “You must be Kathleen.” When I nodded he asked me to follow him, he had something for me.  I obediently allowed myself to be led back to the first floor and through the manager’s door, leaving it open behind me.  It was then he handed me an envelope.

Thanking him, I walked away preferring to wait until I’d reached the sanctuary of my car before opening the envelope.  Inside a letter in Franny’s handwriting began, “Dear Kathleen, I’m sorry I had to leave.  I want you to know I’ve enjoyed every moment of my time spent with you and the other women I’ve had such good fortune to meet and interact with.”

“I’d heard about your intentions and found I must leave.  Anonymity is a must.  I couldn’t take the risk of my identity becoming known.  I wished I could say more. Take care my friend, I hope one day to see you again.”  It was signed, Your Forever Friend, Franny.

I was both horrified and dumbfounded.  Horrified that my well meaning attempt to thank her had unwittingly forced her into a position from which she felt she must flee.  I didn’t know what to feel.  Other than empty and guilty.  I would miss her undoubtedly for she was someone I would have dearly loved to know and call my friend.

From across the street, Franny watched, carefully shrouded in a new disguise.  Momentarily engulfed by loss she realized she’d miss Sarah most of all.  Her friendship had been something Franny would have loved to have encouraged. Perhaps one day she would return.  She hoped with every ounce of her being that could be so.





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Among the millions on earth alive,

You shine like a diamond undisguised

Your virtue honesty caring so sweet

I’m humbled in you I find no deceit

Precious moments with you I share

Opening my soul to leave bare

The heartfelt yearning for another

Sharing deepest thoughts to rediscover

The essence of what humanity can be

Something we endeavour unendingly


 I don’t know about you and your aha moments,  i’m pretty sure we’ve all had them and more than once.  I just had a major aha moment!  Eureka! 

I’ve thought about stressers in my life as i am sure you have. We’ve all heard the old catch phrase “lessen the stress in your life” usually complete with sage warnings relating to health or illness or reducing the risk to either by reducing stress.

I’ve often pondered about what causes stress, even managed to trace some of them back to the source. Still my aha moment hadn’t happened as yet.  Not until tonight!  A few minutes ago, while glancing through twitter feeds, I read a post that blew my mind and created that aha moment.  Stress is created when you are someplace other than where you want to be!  It hit me like a tonne of bricks. Instances, moments in my life when I was the most stressed were exactly those moments!  Moments when I was doing something I really didn’t want to be doing, and what I really wanted was something completely different! 

I isolated specifics to see if this were indeed true for me and low and behold, it was true!  I was on a train of thought, incredibly important at this precise moment, because I’ve been deadlocked on an event in a chapter, a pivotal point in the story for a couple of days. Brava, this was the answer to my  dilemma!  I know how to solve this issue without derailing my  plot!   I was happily congratulating myself, nearly skipping across the room and had just plunked my petuty in my chair, words dancing in my mind, when a little one came prancing through the door!  A look of pure eager excitement lit up that little face, eye glowing with such untold delight, the voice filled with joy, “Gramma,  you’ll never guess what we did today!”

In that most heartfelt of moments,  I was torn between jotting down an outline that would surely be enough to keep my idea present, and I could go back to, and when I turned toward my computer, I couldn’t handle the startled look on that dear little face!   I took hold of both her hands and asked “What?  What Happened? ”  The tale unraveled slowly with every minute detail outlined retraced and repeated when a piece was left out.  I truly was all ears, completely involved until the end of the telling. As soon as the tale was done, she turned to walk away calling over her shoulder, “That’s it. Bye, gotta go now.” No response was required.

By then we’ll you can guess what had happened to my brilliant idea . . It had flown the coup!  Worse yet, the more I tried to hold onto it, the further away it seemed to go.  

I have to admit in all honesty even though I feel shallow for having thought it, I was  annoyed!  I even huffed and puffed a couple times.  I was stressed.  At the time, I couldn’t understand why I felt stressed. Why?  A dear little one had come to share something valuable with me!  It’s only now with my aha moment in hand, I realize what had happened.  I had internalized my frustration at putting off something equally valuable, to do something else.  I’d do it again too, perhaps differently but what was also invaluable was the incite I’ve received in that moment.  Amazing isn’t it? I guess you could call them crossroads, intersections, whatever word you choose to use, it was perfect.  My little one got what she needed, I got what I needed, and later once dinner was done, continued on with my writing. 

I had to share this,since I’m sure as writers and bloggers, you have gone through similar moments of triumph! 



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I have to admit I feel “ancient” when I’m in a great deal of pain.

Have you every been around someone that makes you feel “old” ancient because their zest for life is so pure and  their excitement for life vivacious?   Having said that, I can imagine it.  Often, I’m told I have a youthful persona.  Because of my age, I delight in that since I have such a thirst for knowledge and understanding and growing.

When you look at the 7 Wonders of the World, ( Temple of Artemis, Mausoleum At Halicarnassus, Colossus of Rhodes, Light House of Alexandria, Hanging Gardens of Babylon, Statue of Zeus at Olympia) how long they have lasted and stood the test of time, I feel small and insignificant.  The Pyramids of Giza are a living testament to age.  I often used to watch the Learning Channel and other programs regaling archeology and the new finds of ancient items and places and cities. Each time I can’t help but wonder at the way our ancestors lived.

I find it exciting to take virtual tours through these places, particularly as I am not wealthy enough to travel and see these sites first hand.  I find great excitement and am always interested in the findings of archeologists about places we knew existed and have since found.

In particular, the precision with which many of these places were built.  Precision we can’t hope to match even with our advanced technology and abilities.

Although in all honesty I would not have enjoyed living during those times, as I am in favour of modern medicines which have aided in a prolonging and healthy life, I wonder about this too.  In coming years, our advancements in medicine will surely make our current methods seem archaic and ancient.

It’s often true in our “modern” society we have given up the “ancient” ways of our ancestors, opting for a more modern way of living and doing things.  Still, we honour ancient customs on occasion, some out of a sense of duty, others with tongue in cheek, and others (a minority these days) who still believe they are a testament to honest pure living.

I’m still searching to find the answers to my ancestors and their beliefs.  I’m really curious about yours.  If you have an ancestral custom that your family still honours, I’d be delighted if you’d share it with me.