Sunday, June 2, 2013
Monday, May 27, 2013
Weekend of Memories
Memorial Day Weekend reminds me
of iris in bloom
cemeteries bursting with flags & flowers
soldiers fallen in cemeteries across the sea
parents ~ peaceful at last?
nephews, too soon weary of this realm
stone reminders marking time
Now, I prefer to create a different sort of memorial weekend
full of desert
solitude
sky
timeless, endless vistas eroding into the future
listening to the sounds of wings
as eternity flies by
of iris in bloom
cemeteries bursting with flags & flowers
soldiers fallen in cemeteries across the sea
parents ~ peaceful at last?
nephews, too soon weary of this realm
stone reminders marking time
Now, I prefer to create a different sort of memorial weekend
full of desert
solitude
sky
timeless, endless vistas eroding into the future
listening to the sounds of wings
as eternity flies by
Saturday, May 4, 2013
New Beginnings
Created a new picture blog, inspired by http://naturalust.blogspot.com
Mine is wanderings. If you're interested, go to http://gajjonthego.blogspot.com
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Resolve Renew Respect
New Year's Resolutions seem depressing and pressured. And yet, goal setting seems invigorating and personal! So although my goals are private and personal I can tell you that if you know me you will know a difference should success be a gift from 2012. Stay tuned...
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
244
Eli is a homeless gentleman & cello player well-known in Salt Lake City for his music and attitude! He sometimes 'lives' in the doorway at 244 on a downtown street.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Parhelion!
Once in awhile an event, a small moment, a shift in awareness - any of these - makes our day just a little brighter. On my way to lunch, J called and said 'look up'. Had she not called I would have missed a rare event in Salt Lake - a sun dog! Had she not noticed someone else looking up and stopped to wonder why, we both would have missed it. Had I not looked up, and caught the eye of 2 girls biking by, they would have missed it. Serendipitously wonderful!
Sundog (Parhelion): a bright spot in the sky appearing on either side of the sun, formed by refraction of sunlight through ice crystals high in the earth's atmosphere.
Sundog (Parhelion): a bright spot in the sky appearing on either side of the sun, formed by refraction of sunlight through ice crystals high in the earth's atmosphere.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Oh The Joy of It: Rapture Revisited
Rapture didn't happen - at least not yet. Somewhere someone somehow thought that today, the 21st of May, was a magical moment of hellfire, damnation and for those select few, rapture. We would wake up to the arrival of Jesus, come to sweep away the wars, pestilence, tortures, murders, greed, and general sinfulness that shrouds the peoples of the earth in darkness. Come to lift up those few who believe. Come to punish those who don't with a swift swipe of the sword. Yesterday was apparently Buddha's birthday. Maybe a little kinder, gentler rapture happened with those poor lost souls who don't believe in the Jesus/rapture/salvation cycle. But this morning, I heard the birds singing, saw the light slowly spread across the dark sky, heard the busy sounds of the city, breathed in the rich aroma of coffee brewing and knew in my heart of hearts that once again the promise of rapture, salvation, and general final mayhem for the world didn't happen. At least not in my little corner of the universe. Life happened though, and making life a joyful experience - dare I say rapturous experience - is up to each little soul. One soul. You. Me. Us.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Lizard Wisdom
The lizard flicked its tongue: in, out, in. And then it was gone, but wait. There it is, under the rock. Safety. When did my safety become a trap?
Friday, April 1, 2011
Ode to Gmail
Thou dost serve me in a thousand ways
Your eyes secure my thoughts, my heart, my love
rendering me whole in the chaos of life.
You speak only to me (or so it seems) and
I listen with truth bared. Daily dost thou
speak to me the words that forever
seal our love : "Hooray, no spam here!"
Your eyes secure my thoughts, my heart, my love
rendering me whole in the chaos of life.
You speak only to me (or so it seems) and
I listen with truth bared. Daily dost thou
speak to me the words that forever
seal our love : "Hooray, no spam here!"
Favorite Saying of the Week
I saw this saying on an acquaintance's FB page after a difficult day yesterday. It summed it up nicely:
The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it has taken place.": George Bernard Shaw
The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it has taken place.": George Bernard Shaw
Monday, March 21, 2011
Wisdom & Responsibility
A quote from J's blog:
You can hold yourself back from the sufferings of the world, that is something you are free to do and it accords with your nature, but perhaps this very holding back is the one suffering you could avoid.
Franz Kafka
You can hold yourself back from the sufferings of the world, that is something you are free to do and it accords with your nature, but perhaps this very holding back is the one suffering you could avoid.
Franz Kafka
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Grandma gets a Piercing
Shifts happen. An old NLP saying that often hits home unexpectedly. Sometime in the fall of 2009 during an evening with the 'kids' (all adults, of course, but forever 'kids' in my heart) I mentioned innocently that I was thinking of getting my nose pierced, had been thinking of it for several years and had decided that maybe this was exactly the right year to jump right in and do it! Why not, I questioned? When you're on a fast train to 61, you can pretty much do whatever you want I averred out loud. Shift to Christmas, 2009. Recipient of a gift certificate to Koi Piercing for said piercing and 'jewel' of my choice from adult child & partner. Gulp. Was I ready? Was it significant? Did it matter? Should I actually do it? And how much really would it hurt? These thoughts swirled - okay, chugged and sloshed - through my mind at random times throughout the entire 2010 year. Yes. No. Why would I? Why wouldn't I? Then I conveniently lost the certificate. Opps, guess I can't go through with it now. Guilt at having wasted a certificate. Guilt at not following my initial desire to go through with it or having consciously decided not to at all.
Oh the struggle. 2011 looms near - certificate set to expire. Then, first granddaughter is born. Little Lucia Blue, first child of the givers of the gift certificate. Thinking about the immensity of another life that was actually part of my child - of me - struck me in so many ways. Some ways were petty and trivial and somewhat silly. Some deep with a depth almost frightening, the seriousness of bringing another life into this world. The responsibility. The joys. If I could give any gift at all to little Lucia, and to all my adult 'kids' and their spouses and partners, what would it be? It came to me that it would be the gift of being able to experience joy. Not especially happiness, which is nice but settles somewhere on the surface of things. No, the gift of being open to the experience of joy. Joy one can only experience when being truly and completely open to the idea of innocent Self and willing to experience it without conditions or qualifications. How does that translate to getting a nostril pierced. I quit quantifying all the reasons I should or shouldn't and listened to my inner child say 'how cool is that to have something fun and sparkly right on your nose!'. And so now, nestled right on my nose, looking for all the world like just another fad is a twinkling reminder to live true to myself, and to offer to others the freedom to live true to themselves. Welcome to the world Lucia. May you have the courage and opportunity to live a life full of joy.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Blueberry Girl
To our precious 'blueberry girl'
Lucia Blue Gee
Born 6:56PM January 9, 2011 on Big Island (Hawaii)
Loving Parents: Joseph Gee & Stacy Vroman
Loving Grandma: Me!
Loving grandparents, aunts and uncles abound, all spreading love and positive energy to our little 'blueberry'.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
A Star is Born
Please welcome Ms. Lucia Blue (Loo-sha) Gee.
Born January 9, 2011 at 6:56 Hawaiian time.
Proud parents: Stacy Vroman and Joseph Gee
Proud Grandma: Me!!
Born January 9, 2011 at 6:56 Hawaiian time.
Proud parents: Stacy Vroman and Joseph Gee
Proud Grandma: Me!!
Blessings
Blueberry on the way, Joseph & Stacy doing well! Tyler and Sherri are with them in person, along with Midwife Julie...the rest of us are there in spirit. Just got word that they conducted a feet washing/blessing ceremony in the spirit of Hawaiian culture.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Brrrrr
The December 2010 road trip started out calmly...no 2-hour saga about getting out of happy valley inch by inch during horrid weather, no forgetting the chargers for all the many electronic 'musts' that one now requires for entertainment and guidance during road trips, no last minute lens/camera/battery purchases. Smooth sailing.
We made our merry way down south, thinking we'd pass Vegas by and stop for the night in Laughlin. For non-gamblers, Laughlin is this nifty little gambling town not far from the Hoover Dam area. Casino rooms are inexpensive, the weather is balmy, there's an Outback restuarant in the casino and its about mid-way if one is wending their way ever southward. The trip without a plan went well - sights were seen, losses were accrued, gains were amassed, pictures were taken. Very relaxing. For much of the trip we didn't have cell service, so no work emails, texts, or calls. Ahhh, the joy of it!
Then we decided to head home. From Tucson we'd wend our way through Flagstaff, spend a night or two in Kayenta, head on home through Moab and on to Salt Lake. Hello. Worst snow storm in a century in Flagstaff. Roads closed due to snow, ice and sub-zero weather. Blissfully unaware, we zipped along northward bound. At 75 miles per, we spotted a freeway sign: Roads closed at Flagstaff. Googling madly, we found that the east/west freeway was closed for 180 miles. Had been closed over 24 hours. What, we wondered, about the road going north? ADOT was so helpful, with a chat line up that responded to our query. Could 'probably' make it, road open, might be tricky. MIGHT BE TRICKY is not my favorite way to travel, especially when I'm driving. Should we continue on? Head the other way and detour to Vegas? Of course not - we're hardy souls, we have AAA don't we...of course we'll continue on.
Might Be Tricky was certainly the right phrase but we made it...temperatures from south of Flagstaff on to Kayenta and onward to SLC remained low - the temperature rose to a hot 13 degrees and generally hovered around 5 or 10 degrees. That's the daytime high folks, not the nighttime low. Kayenta roads through the Monument Valley Park were closed except by escort (read $$$$). Nada on that. But we had a great time, made it home safely and thanked our lucky stars for safe traveling once again.
We made our merry way down south, thinking we'd pass Vegas by and stop for the night in Laughlin. For non-gamblers, Laughlin is this nifty little gambling town not far from the Hoover Dam area. Casino rooms are inexpensive, the weather is balmy, there's an Outback restuarant in the casino and its about mid-way if one is wending their way ever southward. The trip without a plan went well - sights were seen, losses were accrued, gains were amassed, pictures were taken. Very relaxing. For much of the trip we didn't have cell service, so no work emails, texts, or calls. Ahhh, the joy of it!
Then we decided to head home. From Tucson we'd wend our way through Flagstaff, spend a night or two in Kayenta, head on home through Moab and on to Salt Lake. Hello. Worst snow storm in a century in Flagstaff. Roads closed due to snow, ice and sub-zero weather. Blissfully unaware, we zipped along northward bound. At 75 miles per, we spotted a freeway sign: Roads closed at Flagstaff. Googling madly, we found that the east/west freeway was closed for 180 miles. Had been closed over 24 hours. What, we wondered, about the road going north? ADOT was so helpful, with a chat line up that responded to our query. Could 'probably' make it, road open, might be tricky. MIGHT BE TRICKY is not my favorite way to travel, especially when I'm driving. Should we continue on? Head the other way and detour to Vegas? Of course not - we're hardy souls, we have AAA don't we...of course we'll continue on.
Might Be Tricky was certainly the right phrase but we made it...temperatures from south of Flagstaff on to Kayenta and onward to SLC remained low - the temperature rose to a hot 13 degrees and generally hovered around 5 or 10 degrees. That's the daytime high folks, not the nighttime low. Kayenta roads through the Monument Valley Park were closed except by escort (read $$$$). Nada on that. But we had a great time, made it home safely and thanked our lucky stars for safe traveling once again.
Friday, December 24, 2010
December Road Trip 2010
Once again the no-plan annual December road trip is in the works. Our road trips are not for the faint of heart, nor for the OCD types who need a PLAN! Rather than planning each step, or even final destination, we toss ideas around, check weather forecasts, loosely - and I do mean loosely - decide north, south, east or west and then wait for departure date inspiration. This year as in many past the departure date will be Christmas Day.
Christmas Day is a wonderful day to travel - everyone you encounter is in a good mood. Gas station attendants are cheery, grocery stores that stay open aren't crowded, roads aren't crowded, and Christmas road trip fellow travels are happy to be on the open road.
This year the direction will be south. How far south is yet to be determined. How wide a swath east/west as we travel south is yet to be determined. Gear up, gas up, and let the fun commence!
Christmas Day is a wonderful day to travel - everyone you encounter is in a good mood. Gas station attendants are cheery, grocery stores that stay open aren't crowded, roads aren't crowded, and Christmas road trip fellow travels are happy to be on the open road.
This year the direction will be south. How far south is yet to be determined. How wide a swath east/west as we travel south is yet to be determined. Gear up, gas up, and let the fun commence!
Friday, December 3, 2010
Painting the Wrought Iron Furniture
I miss Wilfred.
From whom would I have known the subtleties of the art if not from him?
Prelims: tarp, laid out. furniture placed on tarp. sunny forecast on the radio. soft drink cooling in the fridge. Head out to Home Depot.
Purchase a wire brush (how I wish I had the one used by his very hands). Purchase spray-on rust retardent. Purchase spray-on black enamel paint. (Don't get creative here with the color - BLACK is the only appropriate color I'm told). Scrape vigorously, watching little flecks of rust, paint from past years, bird poop, leaves, and gossamer strands of spider homes fly askew from the edges, from the seats, from the backs. During this part of the ritual, all manner of ill-will, anxiety, or just boredom wafts away, dispersing into nothingness.
Already the furniture looks renewed. With a soft cloth, gently wipe down the pieces. This step is quick, but important. Don't get too much in a hurry - sip your diet pepsi, wander around, straighten out the tarp, maybe hose down the driveway.
Now, spray the furniture. Not with wide sweeping strokes, but with short, even bursts. Sip the diet Pepsi, on to the next piece. Continue until finished, let dry. I'd stop by on a Saturday morning to watch the ritual, maybe help a little from time to time, sip my own drink, joke and laugh.
Painting the wrought iron furniture this autumn was especially lonesome, a onesome task with no one around to appreciate the subtleties. Its been many years since I've seen Wilfred. Families change, tempers flare, life moves on and away. The last time I spoke with Wilfred alone, neither of us knew it would be our parting.
"I love you, feel better soon."
"I will. Janice, you'll always be my daughter."
I miss Wilfred. And the wrought iron furniture is ready for another year.
From whom would I have known the subtleties of the art if not from him?
Prelims: tarp, laid out. furniture placed on tarp. sunny forecast on the radio. soft drink cooling in the fridge. Head out to Home Depot.
Purchase a wire brush (how I wish I had the one used by his very hands). Purchase spray-on rust retardent. Purchase spray-on black enamel paint. (Don't get creative here with the color - BLACK is the only appropriate color I'm told). Scrape vigorously, watching little flecks of rust, paint from past years, bird poop, leaves, and gossamer strands of spider homes fly askew from the edges, from the seats, from the backs. During this part of the ritual, all manner of ill-will, anxiety, or just boredom wafts away, dispersing into nothingness.
Already the furniture looks renewed. With a soft cloth, gently wipe down the pieces. This step is quick, but important. Don't get too much in a hurry - sip your diet pepsi, wander around, straighten out the tarp, maybe hose down the driveway.
Now, spray the furniture. Not with wide sweeping strokes, but with short, even bursts. Sip the diet Pepsi, on to the next piece. Continue until finished, let dry. I'd stop by on a Saturday morning to watch the ritual, maybe help a little from time to time, sip my own drink, joke and laugh.
Painting the wrought iron furniture this autumn was especially lonesome, a onesome task with no one around to appreciate the subtleties. Its been many years since I've seen Wilfred. Families change, tempers flare, life moves on and away. The last time I spoke with Wilfred alone, neither of us knew it would be our parting.
"I love you, feel better soon."
"I will. Janice, you'll always be my daughter."
I miss Wilfred. And the wrought iron furniture is ready for another year.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
Tulle Valley Hardpan, Crystal Peak Wilderness Area #3
Its so nice to be once again out in the desert - this time with Tyler and Jenny along! The hardpan is usually arid and hot, but recent rains made this look like an oasis - what a treat!
Monday, January 4, 2010
Blue Moon Road Trip 2009-2010
We headed out for our annual winter road trip - destination unknown. This year found us as far south as Bisbee, Arizona. Bisbee is a great little town, once a mining town, now a quasi-hippie, artsy-crafty crumbly little town settling into 2010 with an attitude! Reminds me of what Park City, Utah could be if it weren't so, well, so Park City.
You can see from the painted wall that there's more than one way to salvation, folks, and in Bisbee you might just ride your way to heaven on a Harley.
You can see from the painted wall that there's more than one way to salvation, folks, and in Bisbee you might just ride your way to heaven on a Harley.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Wonders
A friend sent me a link (again) to the MSNBC picture of the week series, hoping I may some day submit some pictures. Its such a way to see the beauty and horror of the world around us. Wonder why I keep forgetting I want to check it on a regular basis? If youngest son were here he could show me how to set an RSS feed (WHATEVER!!), but he's not. I'll keep trying to figure it out. Until then, here is a link to the site: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3842331/ or http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3842331/ns/us_news-the_week_in_pictures
Its worth checking out.
Its worth checking out.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
What could be better than...
a beautiful Sunday morning, nibbling on 7-grain toast spread with fresh avacado, sipping on delicious coffee roasted just 48 hours ago in Kona by Tyler & Taylor, flown to Salt Lake City with love and kindness by Tyler? Nothing!
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
Thinking of Marshall...
How is it, then, that love slips so softly down the path,
and yet, the leaving is so loud that the clangs and clatters
shatter the stillness of our heart's repose?
Thoughts of Marshall bounce around my heart often. I wonder,
would he be surprised?
Very often, the memories lead me
to one of my favorite poems by James Kavanaugh. Here is just
the first verse or so...
Will you be my friend?
There are so many reasons why you never should:
I'm sometimes sullen, often shy, acutely sensitive,
My fear erupts as anger, I find it hard to give,
I talk about myself when I'm afraid
And often spend a day without anything to say.
But I will make you laugh
And love you quite a bit
And hold you almost every day
Because I'm more caring than the strangers ever know,
And, if at times, I show my tender side
(The soft and warmer part I hide)
I wonder,
Will you be my friend?
A friend
Who far beyond the feebleness of a vow or tie
Will touch the secret place where I am really I,
To know the pain of lips that please and eyes that weep,
Who will not run away when you find me in the street
Alone and lying mangled by my quota of defeats
But will stop and stay--to tell me of another day
When I was beautiful.
In memory: Marshall Myers February 26, 1983 - April 24, 2008
and yet, the leaving is so loud that the clangs and clatters
shatter the stillness of our heart's repose?
Thoughts of Marshall bounce around my heart often. I wonder,
would he be surprised?
Very often, the memories lead me
to one of my favorite poems by James Kavanaugh. Here is just
the first verse or so...
Will you be my friend?
There are so many reasons why you never should:
I'm sometimes sullen, often shy, acutely sensitive,
My fear erupts as anger, I find it hard to give,
I talk about myself when I'm afraid
And often spend a day without anything to say.
But I will make you laugh
And love you quite a bit
And hold you almost every day
Because I'm more caring than the strangers ever know,
And, if at times, I show my tender side
(The soft and warmer part I hide)
I wonder,
Will you be my friend?
A friend
Who far beyond the feebleness of a vow or tie
Will touch the secret place where I am really I,
To know the pain of lips that please and eyes that weep,
Who will not run away when you find me in the street
Alone and lying mangled by my quota of defeats
But will stop and stay--to tell me of another day
When I was beautiful.
In memory: Marshall Myers February 26, 1983 - April 24, 2008
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Castell de Loarre
One of the most beautiful pictures - I want to go there!!
Marni, do you still dream of living in a castle? This must be it...
Marni, do you still dream of living in a castle? This must be it...
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Earth Hour 2009
I found this through a photographer on Flickr - please, take a moment to watch. Take a moment to care. Take a moment to act...
Friday, March 6, 2009
On Being Present
I recently read about mitochondiral DNA and how it generally is passed down through the all generations of women unchanged - that is to say, you, my female reader, have the same mitochondiral DNA as all women everywhere as far back as science can trace. Wow! Somehow, that heady piece of information reminds me of the following:
I share a birth date with my mother. Its always seemed a fragile connection. A test, perhaps, for her to face. The story I learned as a young woman of her near success at aborting the fetal me - twice - seemed more fitting to our relationship. But I always wished more happiness for my mother than she could ever grasp. It seems that somehow those little mtDNA carried me through, informed, defined and strengthened me but left her bereft, somehow alone. And so, this saying by Patricia Lynn Reilly is for women everywhere, and is what I wish for you, Mom. Happy Belated Birthday.
Imagine a Woman:
Imagine a woman who believes it is right & good she is woman. A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories. Who refuses to carry the sins of other within her body or her life.
Imagine a woman who believes she is good. A woman who trusts & respects herself. Who listens to her own needs and desires, and meets them with tenderness and grace.
Imagine a woman who has acknowledged the past's influence on the present. A woman who has walked through her past. Who has healed into the present.
Imagine a woman who authors her own life. A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf. Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and to her wisest voice.
Imagine a woman who names her own gods. A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness. Who designs her own spirituality and allows it to inform her daily life.
Imagine a woman in love with her own body. A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is. Who celebrates her body and its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.
Image a woman who honors the face of the Goddess in her changing face. A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and wisdom. Who refuses to use precious energy disguising the changes in her body and life.
Imagine a woman who values the women in her life. A woman who sits in circles of women. Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.
Imagine yourself as this woman.
I share a birth date with my mother. Its always seemed a fragile connection. A test, perhaps, for her to face. The story I learned as a young woman of her near success at aborting the fetal me - twice - seemed more fitting to our relationship. But I always wished more happiness for my mother than she could ever grasp. It seems that somehow those little mtDNA carried me through, informed, defined and strengthened me but left her bereft, somehow alone. And so, this saying by Patricia Lynn Reilly is for women everywhere, and is what I wish for you, Mom. Happy Belated Birthday.
Imagine a Woman:
Imagine a woman who believes it is right & good she is woman. A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories. Who refuses to carry the sins of other within her body or her life.
Imagine a woman who believes she is good. A woman who trusts & respects herself. Who listens to her own needs and desires, and meets them with tenderness and grace.
Imagine a woman who has acknowledged the past's influence on the present. A woman who has walked through her past. Who has healed into the present.
Imagine a woman who authors her own life. A woman who exerts, initiates, and moves on her own behalf. Who refuses to surrender except to her truest self and to her wisest voice.
Imagine a woman who names her own gods. A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness. Who designs her own spirituality and allows it to inform her daily life.
Imagine a woman in love with her own body. A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is. Who celebrates her body and its rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.
Image a woman who honors the face of the Goddess in her changing face. A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and wisdom. Who refuses to use precious energy disguising the changes in her body and life.
Imagine a woman who values the women in her life. A woman who sits in circles of women. Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.
Imagine yourself as this woman.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Joseph Elmer Allen 1920 - 1995
This poem reminds me, dad, of the differences between us nuanced by the ties that bound us:
YOUR COLOR (Hilda Morley)
More in some ways than when you were alive, I try to please you,
to find I am of your way of thinking,
as with these red carnations: they're your color.
For myself I'd always
chosen white, saying--
that red's too strong for thinking
in a room, too much.
But now I love these flowers,
having grown, these years ("mourning" they said),
more into what you wished:
a clearer form now, seeing
this redness (suspended) above green stems as thumbprints of Mediterranean
earth that you belong to, crop of heart's blood on
this city's grayness,
this room's whiteness.
And now, in no special order, some of the things I learned from my father that made a difference in who/what I am:
1. Perseverance in hard times - do what needs to be done.
2. How to make a bed, military style with squared corners
3. How to clean a bathroom spic 'n span with 'elbow grease'.
4. How to iron a shirt, military style:
a. front & back of collar
b. back of shirt
c. sides of shirt including front and back of button areas
d. sleeves, folding at shoulder for a nice crease down the side
e. redo the collar to finish the shirt, hang on hanger, button top button
5. How to pour cement to make a driveway or parking area
6. How to mow and edge a lawn
7. Philosophy of leaving a place better than you found it - apply to all
things big and small.
8. Sense of humor, laughter is good for the soul.
9. How to play cards and board games.
10. How to have fun while working, how to work even if its not fun.
11. Why its important to notice the beauty of nature, even if it seems
boring as a teenager.
12. How to fly a kite.
13. How to bottle fruit
14. The joys of eating homemade rice pudding
15. How to live up to whatever standards you've set for yourself.
16. Respect for other people, other cultures, other religions.
Thanks dad...
Joseph Elmer Allen August 3, 1920 - February 15, 1995
YOUR COLOR (Hilda Morley)
More in some ways than when you were alive, I try to please you,
to find I am of your way of thinking,
as with these red carnations: they're your color.
For myself I'd always
chosen white, saying--
that red's too strong for thinking
in a room, too much.
But now I love these flowers,
having grown, these years ("mourning" they said),
more into what you wished:
a clearer form now, seeing
this redness (suspended) above green stems as thumbprints of Mediterranean
earth that you belong to, crop of heart's blood on
this city's grayness,
this room's whiteness.
And now, in no special order, some of the things I learned from my father that made a difference in who/what I am:
1. Perseverance in hard times - do what needs to be done.
2. How to make a bed, military style with squared corners
3. How to clean a bathroom spic 'n span with 'elbow grease'.
4. How to iron a shirt, military style:
a. front & back of collar
b. back of shirt
c. sides of shirt including front and back of button areas
d. sleeves, folding at shoulder for a nice crease down the side
e. redo the collar to finish the shirt, hang on hanger, button top button
5. How to pour cement to make a driveway or parking area
6. How to mow and edge a lawn
7. Philosophy of leaving a place better than you found it - apply to all
things big and small.
8. Sense of humor, laughter is good for the soul.
9. How to play cards and board games.
10. How to have fun while working, how to work even if its not fun.
11. Why its important to notice the beauty of nature, even if it seems
boring as a teenager.
12. How to fly a kite.
13. How to bottle fruit
14. The joys of eating homemade rice pudding
15. How to live up to whatever standards you've set for yourself.
16. Respect for other people, other cultures, other religions.
Thanks dad...
Joseph Elmer Allen August 3, 1920 - February 15, 1995
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Elogium Pax
Lament for Gaza...
Lament
Sorrow, not bittersweet. Acrid as a child’s howl
when, forever, father’s arm is torn away
Lament
Elegiac, not verse. Bitter as mother’s tear when,
childless, etched death scours ivory tomb
Lament
Plead, aver the cause. Shallow as the bier,
innocence, sunders the sky
Lament
Grace, endless hope. Plundered as nights of
gleaming arrow star the sky
And now,
Doctor's lament: 3 daughters killed in Gaza shelling
By Joel Greenberg | Tribune correspondent
12:58 PM CST, January 17, 2009
TEL HASHOMER, Israel - For days, Dr. Izzeldin Abuelaish, a physician from the Gaza Strip, was a voice from the war zone, telling Israeli radio and television stations in fluent Hebrew about life under fire as Israeli troops pursued a ground offensive against Hamas.
On Friday the unspeakable happened. An Israeli shell hit a room where the doctor's daughters were gathered, killing three of them and a cousin. His broken voice brought the tragedy into Israeli living rooms.
"They killed my daughters," he sobbed over a cell phone after the strike, his agony broadcast live on Channel Ten television. Israeli medics were dispatched to evacuate the doctor along with a wounded brother, daughter and niece to the Sheba Medical Center near Tel Aviv.
Abuelaish, 53, a gynecologist, works three days a week at Sheba as a health policy researcher, and unlike most Gazans, is permitted to travel to Israel, where he has friends and acquaintances.
A father of eight and a widower, Abuelaish stayed with his children, his brothers and their families — 25 people in all — in a five-story building in the town of Jabalya, even as neighbors fled to escape the fighting.
"Where to leave?" he said in an interview at the hospital on Saturday. "No place is secure in Gaza, not mosques, not schools."
The family hunkered down in a virtual no-man's land. "No one could approach the place," he said. "We couldn't go outside because we were scared they would shoot at us. No water, no electricity, no gas, no phone. I charged my mobile phone from a radio battery."
"I tried to keep my children away from the windows, in the living room, sleeping on mattresses, dividing them up," he said, so they would not be a risk in the same place.
When an Israeli tank appeared in the area one day, Abuelaish called his Israeli media contacts and an Israeli liaison officer he knew, and the tank moved on.
On Friday afternoon the family gathered for lunch, cooked on a kerosene stove by the doctor's oldest daughter, Bisan, 20. She had become "a mother to my children after I lost my wife" to leukemia in September, Abuelaish said.
Bisan, a senior at Gaza's Islamic University, where she was studying business and finance, had met Israelis at the Creativity for Peace camp in New Mexico, which promotes reconciliation among Palestinian and Israeli teenage girls, the doctor said. He added that another of his daughters received calls during the Gaza fighting from concerned Israeli friends she had met at the camp.
After lunch, the doctor's daughters and two cousins went to the girls' bedroom. Abuelaish played with a son, hoisting him on his shoulders.
Then a blast hit the room where the girls were gathered.
"I found my daughters in pieces," he said. Bisan had been thrown from a bed to the floor. Mayar, 15, and Aya,, 14, were also dead, along with Noor, a 17-year-old cousin. Shatha, 17, who was wounded in the eye, was a straight-A student, and had plans to continue her studies abroad, her father said. "They killed their dreams," he added.
The Israeli army said it was investigating, and that an initial inquiry showed that "soldiers were apparently fired upon" from the doctor's building "or its vicinity."
Abuelaish insisted that there were no Hamas fighters in the area, and that he would not have allowed any militants near his home.
"Even if someone was firing, why did they shoot only at my daughters' room?" he asked.
"Military action will not lead to anything, and I have been saying loudly in Gaza that I am against firing rockets. They are a danger to the Palestinians," the doctor said, referring to Hamas attacks on Israel that triggered the Israeli offensive.
"I believe in saving lives, not killing," he added. "My children should be the last price, the victims of peace and a cease-fire."
Jogreenberg@tribune.com
Lament
Sorrow, not bittersweet. Acrid as a child’s howl
when, forever, father’s arm is torn away
Lament
Elegiac, not verse. Bitter as mother’s tear when,
childless, etched death scours ivory tomb
Lament
Plead, aver the cause. Shallow as the bier,
innocence, sunders the sky
Lament
Grace, endless hope. Plundered as nights of
gleaming arrow star the sky
And now,
Doctor's lament: 3 daughters killed in Gaza shelling
By Joel Greenberg | Tribune correspondent
12:58 PM CST, January 17, 2009
TEL HASHOMER, Israel - For days, Dr. Izzeldin Abuelaish, a physician from the Gaza Strip, was a voice from the war zone, telling Israeli radio and television stations in fluent Hebrew about life under fire as Israeli troops pursued a ground offensive against Hamas.
On Friday the unspeakable happened. An Israeli shell hit a room where the doctor's daughters were gathered, killing three of them and a cousin. His broken voice brought the tragedy into Israeli living rooms.
"They killed my daughters," he sobbed over a cell phone after the strike, his agony broadcast live on Channel Ten television. Israeli medics were dispatched to evacuate the doctor along with a wounded brother, daughter and niece to the Sheba Medical Center near Tel Aviv.
Abuelaish, 53, a gynecologist, works three days a week at Sheba as a health policy researcher, and unlike most Gazans, is permitted to travel to Israel, where he has friends and acquaintances.
A father of eight and a widower, Abuelaish stayed with his children, his brothers and their families — 25 people in all — in a five-story building in the town of Jabalya, even as neighbors fled to escape the fighting.
"Where to leave?" he said in an interview at the hospital on Saturday. "No place is secure in Gaza, not mosques, not schools."
The family hunkered down in a virtual no-man's land. "No one could approach the place," he said. "We couldn't go outside because we were scared they would shoot at us. No water, no electricity, no gas, no phone. I charged my mobile phone from a radio battery."
"I tried to keep my children away from the windows, in the living room, sleeping on mattresses, dividing them up," he said, so they would not be a risk in the same place.
When an Israeli tank appeared in the area one day, Abuelaish called his Israeli media contacts and an Israeli liaison officer he knew, and the tank moved on.
On Friday afternoon the family gathered for lunch, cooked on a kerosene stove by the doctor's oldest daughter, Bisan, 20. She had become "a mother to my children after I lost my wife" to leukemia in September, Abuelaish said.
Bisan, a senior at Gaza's Islamic University, where she was studying business and finance, had met Israelis at the Creativity for Peace camp in New Mexico, which promotes reconciliation among Palestinian and Israeli teenage girls, the doctor said. He added that another of his daughters received calls during the Gaza fighting from concerned Israeli friends she had met at the camp.
After lunch, the doctor's daughters and two cousins went to the girls' bedroom. Abuelaish played with a son, hoisting him on his shoulders.
Then a blast hit the room where the girls were gathered.
"I found my daughters in pieces," he said. Bisan had been thrown from a bed to the floor. Mayar, 15, and Aya,, 14, were also dead, along with Noor, a 17-year-old cousin. Shatha, 17, who was wounded in the eye, was a straight-A student, and had plans to continue her studies abroad, her father said. "They killed their dreams," he added.
The Israeli army said it was investigating, and that an initial inquiry showed that "soldiers were apparently fired upon" from the doctor's building "or its vicinity."
Abuelaish insisted that there were no Hamas fighters in the area, and that he would not have allowed any militants near his home.
"Even if someone was firing, why did they shoot only at my daughters' room?" he asked.
"Military action will not lead to anything, and I have been saying loudly in Gaza that I am against firing rockets. They are a danger to the Palestinians," the doctor said, referring to Hamas attacks on Israel that triggered the Israeli offensive.
"I believe in saving lives, not killing," he added. "My children should be the last price, the victims of peace and a cease-fire."
Jogreenberg@tribune.com
Monday, January 26, 2009
Click Your Red Heels Twice, Dorothy - there's no home.
Take a stroll down your street. In your home town. Is your home still standing, are your schools, your hospitals? What did you do today to get sustenance? What did you do today to ensure that your children were safe? Your family?
What do you think they did in Gaza today?
For more information on Gaza, see ميرون: ما يستØÙ‚ّ الØياة
What do you think they did in Gaza today?
For more information on Gaza, see ميرون: ما يستØÙ‚ّ الØياة
Friday, January 16, 2009
Two Friends
Palestinian boy during a funeral of two friends, Beit Hanoun on Dec. 30, 2008.
Originally uploaded by sadekhm
Original photograph courtesy of UNICEF
Learning About War - Children of Gaza
Palestinian youths inspect the rubble of a kindergarten classroom destroyed in Rafah refugee camp, southern Gaza Strip, Saturday, Jan. 3, 2009.
Originally uploaded by sadekhm
Original photograph courtesy of UNICEF
A child's view - Children of Gaza
Palestinian boys walk amidst the debris of a destroyed house, in Gaza City, Monday, Jan. 5, 2009.
Originally uploaded by sadekhm
Original photograph courtesy of UNICEF
Thursday, January 15, 2009
At the end of the day...
The carnage continues, cease fire talks stall, civillians die, leaders die, innocent children, women, men, families seek shelter in a city ravaged by war.
Shame ,Silence ....and Arab tears .
To our Arab Brothers : Be shameful of your Sorrow ....the artist wrote in protest of the siege of Gaza , a cry for help ...
Where are you at the end of YOUR day?
Shame ,Silence ....and Arab tears .
To our Arab Brothers : Be shameful of your Sorrow ....the artist wrote in protest of the siege of Gaza , a cry for help ...
Where are you at the end of YOUR day?
Monday, January 12, 2009
Across the Spectrum
Differing world views abound...to echo the sentiment of the young boy in the previous blog, COULD YOU LIVE HERE? What if this were your country, your life, your neighborhood, your family, your child, you? What would you think then?
This video may affend or upset some. If you think you may be upset, please consider what other people are living through before you decide not to watch. Whatever you decide, pause for a moment and reflect on women, children, men living in war zones throughout the decades.
This video may affend or upset some. If you think you may be upset, please consider what other people are living through before you decide not to watch. Whatever you decide, pause for a moment and reflect on women, children, men living in war zones throughout the decades.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Eyes Wide Closed
There is no way past it now. What television did 60 years ago has morphed into a global world, where what you do this minute reverberates all over the world. Don't walk around with your eyes wide closed. Take a minute to look, take a minute to care. Take a look inside these children's lives. Echo the sentiment of the young boy: Can you live here?
What are you doing right now to make a positive difference in someone's life?
What are you doing right now to make a positive difference in someone's life?
Conundrum: Humanity vs War
An artist's perspective:
born 1943 in Kubyba, Palestine
Education. 1966 Bachelor's Degree from the College of Fine Art of Helwan University, in Alexandria, Egypt.
1975 Masters degree also from the College of Fine Arts of Helwan University
1993 Doctorate in Archeology degree from Khartoum University.
lives and works in Gaza
To fine other Palestine artists, go to http://www.stationmuseum.com/Made_In_Palestine/Made_In_Palestine.htm
from the series: Jenin, ink on paper, 25" x 19 1/2, 2002
Abdel Rahmen Al Muzayen is a former general in the Palestinian Liberation Organization (now the Palestinian Authority) and a world-class artist. His masterful pen and ink drawings of the destruction of the city of Jenin reflect his commanding love of his country. The figure of a woman, Anat, the ancient goddess of the Canaanites, symbolizes the soul and the strength of Palestine.
Abdel Rahmen Al Mozayenborn 1943 in Kubyba, Palestine
Education. 1966 Bachelor's Degree from the College of Fine Art of Helwan University, in Alexandria, Egypt.
1975 Masters degree also from the College of Fine Arts of Helwan University
1993 Doctorate in Archeology degree from Khartoum University.
lives and works in Gaza
To fine other Palestine artists, go to http://www.stationmuseum.com/Made_In_Palestine/Made_In_Palestine.htm
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Israel vs Gaza: Lose/Lose Never Wins
NEARLY everything you’ve been led to believe about Gaza is wrong. Below are a few essential points that seem to be missing from the conversation, much of which has taken place in the press, about Israel’s attack on the Gaza Strip.
THE GAZANS Most of the people living in Gaza are not there by choice. The majority of the 1.5 million people crammed into the roughly 140 square miles of the Gaza Strip belong to families that came from towns and villages outside Gaza like Ashkelon and Beersheba. They were driven to Gaza by the Israeli Army in 1948.
THE OCCUPATION The Gazans have lived under Israeli occupation since the Six-Day War in 1967. Israel is still widely considered to be an occupying power, even though it removed its troops and settlers from the strip in 2005. Israel still controls access to the area, imports and exports, and the movement of people in and out. Israel has control over Gaza’s air space and sea coast, and its forces enter the area at will. As the occupying power, Israel has the responsibility under the Fourth Geneva Convention to see to the welfare of the civilian population of the Gaza Strip.
THE BLOCKADE Israel’s blockade of the strip, with the support of the United States and the European Union, has grown increasingly stringent since Hamas won the Palestinian Legislative Council elections in January 2006. Fuel, electricity, imports, exports and the movement of people in and out of the Strip have been slowly choked off, leading to life-threatening problems of sanitation, health, water supply and transportation.
The blockade has subjected many to unemployment, penury and malnutrition. This amounts to the collective punishment — with the tacit support of the United States — of a civilian population for exercising its democratic rights.
THE CEASE-FIRE Lifting the blockade, along with a cessation of rocket fire, was one of the key terms of the June cease-fire between Israel and Hamas. This accord led to a reduction in rockets fired from Gaza from hundreds in May and June to a total of less than 20 in the subsequent four months (according to Israeli government figures). The cease-fire broke down when Israeli forces launched major air and ground attacks in early November; six Hamas operatives were reported killed.
WAR CRIMES The targeting of civilians, whether by Hamas or by Israel, is potentially a war crime. Every human life is precious. But the numbers speak for themselves: Nearly 700 Palestinians, most of them civilians, have been killed since the conflict broke out at the end of last year. In contrast, there have been around a dozen Israelis killed, many of them soldiers. Negotiation is a much more effective way to deal with rockets and other forms of violence. This might have been able to happen had Israel fulfilled the terms of the June cease-fire and lifted its blockade of the Gaza Strip.
This war on the people of Gaza isn’t really about rockets. Nor is it about “restoring Israel’s deterrence,” as the Israeli press might have you believe. Far more revealing are the words of Moshe Yaalon, then the Israeli Defense Forces chief of staff, in 2002: “The Palestinians must be made to understand in the deepest recesses of their consciousness that they are a defeated people.”
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