Sometimes the holidays can be sooo difficult!!!

Area Pagan Dreading Big Family Vernal Equinox Celebration

MEDFORD, OR-"There's always some new Church of the Sacred Pentacle Virgin or a cute single witch who they just have to set me up with," lamented 27-year-old Jeff Birch.

we've come for you liver

MAN: Hello. Uhh, can we have your liver?

MR. BROWN:

My what?

MAN:

Your liver. It's a large, ehh, glandular organ in your abdomen.

ERIC:

[sniff]

MAN:

You know, it's, uh,-- it's reddish-brown. It's sort of, uhh,--

MR. BROWN:

Yeah,-- y-- y-- yeah, I know what it is, but... I'm using it, eh.

ERIC:

Come on, sir.

MR. BROWN:

Hey! Hey! Stop!

ERIC:

Don't muck us about.

MR. BROWN:

Stop! Hey! Hey! Stop it. Hey!

MAN:

Hallo.

MR. BROWN:

Ge-- get off.

MAN:

What's this, then? Mmh.

MR. BROWN:

A liver donor's card.

MAN:

Need we say more?

ERIC:

No!

MR. BROWN:

Listen! I can't give it to you now. It says, 'in the event of death'. Uh. Oh! Ah. Ah. Eh.

MAN:

No one who has ever had their liver taken out by us has survived.

MR. BROWN:

Agh.

ERIC:

Just lie there, sir. It won't take a minute.

so HAVE you signed your liver donor card??

I've just had a lovely time with so many varied and clever medical personal and equipment, just to be told "your liver's pooped out"..... ah modern science! I'm delevoping a healthy paranoia of phlebotomists and large machines that say, not just ping, but utter a cacophony of bangs, whirs, and bangs.

Ah well, hang on for chapter two this week....

Peace

Afrikaans (South Africa) – VREDE * Albanian – PAKE * Arabic – SALAAM * Armenian – HASHDOOTYUN * Bengali – SHANTI * Bulgarian – MIR * Catalan – PAU * Chinese - HE PING * Czech – MIR * Cree – PATUKAYNUMIN * Danish – FRED * Dari Persian (Afghanistan) – SULH * Dutch – VREDE * English - PEACE * Inuit (Greenland) – ERKIGSINEK * Fijiian – BULA * Finnish – RAUHA * French – PAIX * German – FRIEDEN * Greek – IRINI * Hawaiian – ALOHA * Hebrew – SHALOM * Hindi – SHANTI * Hungarian – BÉKE * Icelandic – FRIÐUR * Indonesian – DAMAI * Irish – SÍOCHÁIN * Italian – PACE * Japanese – HEIWA * Kinyarwandu (Rwanda) – AMAHORO * Korean – PHYONGHWA * Lao – SANTIPHAP * Luganda (Uganda) – EMIREMBE * Malay – KEAMANAN * Maltese – PACI * Maori (New Zealand) – RONGO * Nepali – SHANTI * Norwegian – FRED * Persian (Iran) – SULH * Pilipino (Philippines) – KATAHIMIKAN * Pintupi (Australia) – YATANPA * Polish – POKÓJ * Rundi (Burundi) – AMAHORO * Russian – MIR * Sanskrit – SHANTI * Serbo-Croatian – MIR * Shona (Zimbabwe) – RUNYARARO * Spanish – PAZ * Swahili (Kenya, Tanzania) – AMANI * Swedish – FRED * Tamil (Sri Lanka, India, Singapore) – SAMADANAM * Thai – SANTIPHAP * Tibetan – SIDI * Turkish – BARIS * Urdu (Pakistan) – AMAN * Vietnamese - HÒA BÌNH * Welsh - HEDDWICH *Zulu (South Africa) - UKUTHULA

You may find yourself in meditation, seeking meaning in the world. Turning within is the best place to start any search, because it is where all of our answers lie. When we go within, we find we have every possible tool at our disposal. We have a connection to the universal energy that runs the cosmos and every molecule in existence; intuition that guides us from that highest of sources; a heart that knows what truly moves us; and a mind that holds our every experience in its memory. When we use all of these together today, we know who we are and what path to follow.

Connecting our source reminds us that the universe has limitless unformed energy and that we can shape it to fit our desires. We assign meaning to our lives because we are largely responsible for its creation. Every choice we've made in our lives has led us to where we are right now. And we can make new choices in every moment to lead us to our goals and dreams. When we spend time connecting to what makes us who we are as well as to our limitless potential, we can move confidently forward in the world. Though we may meet obstacles and face challenges, we know that we are equipped with the tools that will allow us to work with whatever the universe sends our way. Today you can choose to work from your center to live your most meaningful life.

SaveDarfur.org has a post called "Educate Others" that's worth checking out...

Hundreds of thousands of people around the world have responded to the suffering in Darfur by standing up and demanding that their governments take action to end the crisis. However, many individuals still have not heard about the genocide in Darfur. To build the political will necessary to end the genocide it is imperative that more people learn about the security and humanitarian crisis in Darfur and find out how they can help end the genocide. We have created materials to help you teach others about the ongoing genocide in Darfur. These resources include background information on the conflict in Darfur, a PowerPoint presentation, and recommendations for engaging your audience in advocacy activity on behalf of the people of Darfur.

SaveDarfur.org has a post called "Fatima Haroun Responds to State of the Union Address"

I left my home in Philadelphia full of hope Tuesday morning. I carried this hope, and that of my fellow Darfurians, with me to Washington to hear President Bush’s State of the Union address. Congressman Steve Israel from New York invited me to this special occasion. Talking with him during the day, I learned that he also wanted President Bush to use his platform on Tuesday night to lay out a plan to end the genocide that has ravaged my homeland for four years.

President Bush did mention Darfur in his speech, saying that the US will "continue to awaken the conscience of the world to save the people of Darfur.” As I sat in the Capitol gallery, I appreciated his words but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment. I did not see how those words could be more than the promises that Darfurians have heard from the international community over the last four years.

Darfurians have heard the outcry of the American people and the world community who have taken on the responsibility of speaking out for those that are unable to speak for themselves. What they are still waiting for, though, is a tangible solution for the world’s greatest ongoing humanitarian crisis. President Bush and the United States Congress declared the situation in Darfur a genocide over two years ago, and I am still hopeful that they will work together to offer a solution to the crisis before his tenure is complete.

The situation in Darfur is currently at a turning point. On the ground the violence has escalated in recent months and even spilled over the border into Chad and Central African Republic. What we as Darfurians are asking is that President Bush and the international community push for the implementation of an effective international peacekeeping force, already authorized by U.N. Security Council resolution 1706, to protect our friends and family who remain unprotected.

I remain confident that the international community will come to the aid of those still struggling to survive in Darfur, but I don’t know how much longer hope can sustain them.

What you can do

UUSC: Drumbeat for Darfur:
Acting to End Genocide Now
UNICEF - Crisis in Darfur
Wristbands etc
Eyewitness account



or you can do nothing.

MY LOVE

I love this man....!!!

Non-Persons

Please watch this all the way through.

This is her web site - I am humbled.

Withinsight: Close Guantanamo Bay

sometimes I think the world is on upside down, and it's hopeless, and then I read about people who DO things to make it right, and I am encouraged....

“The Roots of Violence: Wealth without work, Pleasure without conscience, Knowledge without character, Commerce without morality, Science without humanity, Worship without sacrifice, Politics without principles” ~ Mahatma Gandhi

from Withinsight: Close Guantanamo Bay

thanks Gary....

Man of My Dreams.....

my perfect match, and I made him myself! make yours here

messages

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” ~ by Marianne Williamson

Home? for the Holidays

I just finished watching "Over the Hedge" with my kids - if you haven't seen it, you should, funny, wacky, with a nice environmental message slipped in, and Canadians dominated the cast (that's one thing we Canadians do - look for that sort of thing, and then go on and on about it, that and the weather). How do I know this, well of course we must watch all the special features at the end, one being all about the cast - are you ready? William Shatner, Eugene Levy, Catherine O'Hara, & Avril Lavigne - Bruce Willis? baahhh! (btw - the squirrel, that would be my son)

So what does a kid's movie have to with going "home"? Well there's the rub. Just where is home for me now? I am Canadian (can recite the Joe Canadian thing etc), very proudly so, still say 'zed' use Celsius and metric down here in Chicagoland, but really I have no place in Canada to call home anymore. When I was driving across the border for the first time in almost two years this holiday season, I was elated, I was HOME. I was dans mon pays (in my country), but I have no homebase. We moved so much as kids, and later I did on my own - let me see now (in order....)

Winnipeg - born
PEI
Hamilton
Nashville (less than a year, when my dad was teaching at Vanderbilt) - kindergarten
Grimsby (with my grandparents briefly)
Hamilton (couple of apartments) grades 2 - 6?
Dundas (a house!) grades 6 - 10 (2months of grade 10)
Thunder Bay (2 townhouses) grades 10 - 13
London (3 apartments) unversity
Toronto (4 apartments) unversity- work- got married
Mississauga - had baby
Yarker (oh gawd... outside of Kingston) had 2 babies
Cornwall - 4years, my personal record at any one address, and my last Canadian address.

just which place would I call home?

I've been here 3 1/2 years, and on my return journey with the kids this time, I kept thinking I just wanted to get home, and then doubling back on that thought. I have a social security #, an IL driver's license, and can legally work in the US now. I was suppose to get an RCMP check done while in Canada, but got so hopelessly lost in Kitchener (of all places) that after a hour I gave up. (the trip home could be 3 blogs, but don't hold your breath) The Canadian criminal check (I'm clean) is the last thing I needed for my Green Card here, so I can start my nursing IL registration, and get my divorce going, so I can start over in this country. Wasn't the time for it I guess.

So where is my home? Not at my mother's (at least not for more than 48hrs every 2years!), no one city holds me emotionally(except maybe Toronto), but Canada does hold my family, almost all of which I got to see in my trip. Most taking huge chunks of their time to drive out to where we were, just for one evening. My children were beyond thrilled, and I still am so touched I can hardly express it. (actually my oldest daughter was completely entranced with my cousin's boyfriend, she has just recently stopped going on about him....). In that way I felt so proud even to be a small part of such a marvelous extended family.

Still I am now a guest in my own country. I have made a family for myself and children here, and they are wonderful as well. We were surrounded at Solstice, Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day - and missed a brilliant annual family party New Years Eve - me with the chicken head, very classy event.... (but I was with my brother and his family). I have warm loving adults who are not 'substitute aunts and uncles' but safe adults other than me for my children to seek council from, and houses to go to when needed, and their children come also come here.

Still I feel adrift. I would like to stake out one place, and say "this is mine" this is my spot on this planet, where I will make my mark. Perhaps that's what 2007 will be about for me, or perhaps it will be another year of learning patience and tolerance - time will tell.

In the end, home will be where my children and I end up, and wherever that is, we will make it our own.

on Christmas day

Erma Bombeck once wrote a piece about Christmas, about looking back with fondness on the homemade gifts of cotton balls and toothpicks with glue.

This year I received a felt stuffed angel with only slightly tilted wings, one that I had spent much of my own time "helping" to sew (along with other family homemade presents). She is beautiful. I also received a homemade heart with the words "I Love You" sew into it, a set of my OWN sharpie markers (gasp!), and a new note book to write it, (I've filled another). The last two items were purchased with money saved and budgeted between three other family members, money clutched in Christmas lines carrying small baskets of gifts while I was to stand "away". The gifts then hidden in rooms and carefully wrapped in secret and carried down and placed under our tree.

They are more precious to me than anything else I could ever receive.

Below are my "homemade" gifts to my children, they seemed to like them, although right now they are watching Monty Python's Flying Circus (what WAS I thinking!) and have completely forgotten them.... :-)

a letter about Catherine

Catherine, sometimes
seems to be more spirit than she is flesh,
or, perhaps
she has more felicity than
the instrument that is her body
will contain.
for it may appear
she is akin to sunshine,
refusing to be restrained,
streaming out and through
all afforded spaces
brilliantly expanding
reflecting over
everything within her grasp.

resonating from just under
her brave skin is
joy, exuberance, dance and laughter
together, and all at once.

she swallows the earth
in a fierce embrace, and
steps boldly out into its
darkness,
and, its brightness
arms open
mouth spilling laughter
to mingle and weave
within the world’s voice.

she is liquid speed and
profound stillness
side by side.
kaleidoscopically dancing
to music she composes
with handfuls of willow leaves and
brightly woven yarn
tossed into the air.

I hear her between the
soft rasping of a page turned,
and the persistent rasp of
pencils across paper.

she is my teacher,
my guide,
my joy,
my daughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a letter about Graham

he cannot step lightly.

Graham’s heartbeats and footsteps thunder.

the world, left without choice, expands

in the presence of absolute life,

resting, only when he does.

his eyes regard you with utter openness,

his soul, laid bare upon his pale and bandaged skin.

is free to look upon,

to touch, to embrace, and sometimes, even kiss;

if you can bare its raw beauty.

for he has not yet learned how to guard it,

to shield it from this worlds blows, or joys.

his sorrows wrap themselves around the moon

and the oceans feel their pull.

in ecstasy, he his flings brightness to the stars,

and they twinkle back their gratitude;

on earth branches arch from leaves’ laughter

a mere home may not contain such elation.

his heart, he sometimes carries

cupped, in his still small hands;

these are the times I glimpse the man,

he will become.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a letter about Elizabeth

she carries

my heart, in a bucket of sand, she

uses to make sandcastles,

collects water from the ocean

with seashells for its walls.

she regards me with eyes

older, more profound than

her oceans;

questions the universe,

in the voice of a child,

tapes letters to God

to her window.

Elizabeth walks barefoot, climbs

trees on an earth

she has tread long before;

senses its pulse, breathes its skies,

and later, paints them in

watercolours.

she dances, (barefoot) and giggles,

with raindrops and snowflakes,

cradles earthworms and spiders

as precious treasures, before

returning them home;

and helps me bury small birds

in our yard.

she carries my heart

in a fierce little body,

born with more wisdom,

more compassion,

more love,

than I may comprehend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


and so there they are. presently engrossed in the Flying Circus, and I must have more coffee. no snappy graphics with this one, its Christmas and I shouldn't be near this box anyway.

Happy Christmas all.

PMS survival guide (not that I would know anything about this)

be afraid....
very afraid....

Dear Santa .....

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on
demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two
cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school
playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several
Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on
the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when
I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years.

Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which
I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are
strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the
grocery store.

I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of
my last pregnancy.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint resistant
windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't
broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a
secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to
boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three
pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.

I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the
living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice seems
to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the
dog.

If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time
to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of
eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a
Styrofoam container.

If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten
the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a
vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely. It would be helpful if you
could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment
as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under
the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back.
Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come
in and dry off so you don't catch cold.

Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs
on the carpet.

Yours Always, MOM...!

P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my
children young enough to believe in Santa.

only in Canada....

what would you give for a little piece of mind....?

Hu's on first?

Hu's on first?

The PSBI - planning your future....

the actual truth....


I had no idea this was how things worked here in america....

Who is Your Future Husband?

Colin Firth is Your Future Husband
Take this quiz!

Poor Tragic Me......

or THIS....

Which Classic Female Literary Character Are you?

You're Anna Karenina of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy!
Take this quiz!








Quizilla

the earth and me

There is a quote on our refrigerator that from a distance seems to read “Change the World”. Only when you come closer can you read the entire quote –

be the

change

you wish

to see in the

world ….

-gandhi

My children – sometimes, I think – may grow weary of my soapbox speeches, of my going through the garbage pulling out items, demanding “who put this recyclable in the garbage?!” holding high the hapless yogurt cup, the macaroni & cheese box, the un-rinsed soup can, as they stick their faces deeper into their assorted books, avoiding all eye contact. -But be careful what you wish for- because now the van we drive, or my purse - when we walk often has a collection of recyclable items mucking about inside them that we are forever taking home to put out with our recycling, because the kids will NOT throw it in a garbage can. Each week our house “wins” for the biggest recycling heap – 4 containers usually, sometimes with extra Trader Joe’s bags as well.

So why? Why bother? Why drive my children crazy – other than the obvious? – it would be easier just to leave things as they are, NOT stir the pot, NOT make my children worry and care for our planet and its inhabitants. Why have I chosen the more difficult path, and taken my children down it with me? - If you would like a very entertaining answer – ask one of my children directly.

Why?

I do it because of them, in spite of them, for them, and for myself. I did it before they were gleams in my eye, I do it when no one is looking, and I will do it when they have grown up and I am on my own.

As a child, I could never grasp the idea of the father figure, of the all knowing God. What I did grasp was the trees, their branches, their leaves to peek out of. I grasped the dirt, I grasped handfuls dandy lions and hid them in secret places, amazed when their tight yellow faces popped into white lacy finger tips. I touched the creek’s cold water, reached for escaping fish, grasped grouchy crayfish and soon send them scuttling back to their rocky homes. I spent hours watching birds and animals – I still do these things - and retain my childhood awe and wonder at nature’s innate wisdom and perfection. My garage contains many ‘bulk sacks’ of dog, cat, rat & gerbil food plus sacs of different types of bird seeds, piles of suet cakes, and peanuts and corn for chipmunks & squirrels. I choose to surround myself in life.

I wrote this on a weekend spiritual retreat I went on last spring. It’s called river

river


Has there always been such green
all and each
so richly saturated
with this chromatic life,
these leaves, spirits within living stories,
twisting over
and around
and in between
each and one another
in their lilting seduction of
wind and sun?

did they do this yesterday?
did they flicker in this coquettish glee
inside my footfalls
sun tickling tenderly
each surface - so thoughtfully webbed-
while in their turn they reached
to lick the honeyed beams
along this muddied path
to water’s edge.
I walk to sense the flowing strength
flirting within twinkling beams
and to caress,
between reflective ripples,
smooth slippery stones
filled with energy.

will there always be
such life?

Will there always be such life?

This I cannot not answer, for it is a question that is beyond my comprehension.

I know my understanding of life depends on the soil upon which I stand the sky into which I gaze, and on the energy and unbelievable beauty of life on this planet. All are a precious gift freely given by earth and sky together, not only for us, but for all creation. For me, the spark of the divine is in blades of grass, in spring time robins, in heavy purple gray storm clouds and in the eyes of animals and of people.

Mary Oliver has a marvelous poem that says this for me it’s called The Summer Day

The Summer Day

Who made the world?

Who made the swan,

and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean-

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, --and floats away.

I don't know exactly what a prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, -- what else should I have done?

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me,-- what is it you plan to do

with your one wild and precious life?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do -- with your one wild and precious life?

As the poet Rumi says “There are a thousand ways we can kneel and kiss the earth”

THIS is Beauty?

Forgive me, but is this what is considered beautiful today? These poor women have permanently damaged their skeletons, their internal organs, not to mention what this does to their minds. Why does the world put up with such nonsense? I must weight at least 60 pounds more than the heaviest of these women, and I'm considered 'normal'. I apologize for the babbling of this post, but the men I posted previously make more sense than these shadows of women.