tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5186551399744333802024-02-19T06:05:28.567-05:00The Book QueenThe life and times of a Northeast Kingdom Vermont Bookseller.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-39096166012962103712009-04-20T15:54:00.003-04:002009-04-20T16:07:20.401-04:00My Dog<div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326866697452844306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEoe8EFCSXJtTmFCM33a1UEVKCZ-2es3ygXX5jA3jEqMparCaKEDO3fQGecRwPwCbR9RgXBJS4OpuumgIgathKd7I_H03m9aA_zl3IblKRN4L-EumyrXKZpnDzysati37VDXLjC2EaWs/s200/DSCF9070.JPG" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlZQZWSPJwH4_aR3FXDC7ivqm46nOHYNeqpOlfeIzX4dgp_UMDAzgEbHjlYY_3lwoW5FCWO53r6iWEWbm4Ok8DqG6qQYORzoJQCyWujt1bk56A9VyIUpeIQd7Z4QxoXzA2Tq1FRQIAb4/s1600-h/DSCF7775.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326866691350928002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirlZQZWSPJwH4_aR3FXDC7ivqm46nOHYNeqpOlfeIzX4dgp_UMDAzgEbHjlYY_3lwoW5FCWO53r6iWEWbm4Ok8DqG6qQYORzoJQCyWujt1bk56A9VyIUpeIQd7Z4QxoXzA2Tq1FRQIAb4/s200/DSCF7775.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>It is interesting how one ties ones life to another creature. I have had a dog for thirteen years. She is dying of bone cancer and my heart is breaking. This is not a grief that one can share with others as if your child or your parent were dying. No she is not a child, but she is a spirit which I have shared my life with for many years. We know each other well, as with anything you live with for some time. </div><br /><br /><div></div><div>She has had a good dog life. She has never had a fence, never been chained, always allowed to sleep on the bed...in return she has given me so much...I will miss her. Just how much is something that only our family can understand.</div><div> </div><div> </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-28439748054975499192009-04-17T09:25:00.004-04:002009-04-17T09:51:09.475-04:00The brain and the mind<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3zN-ftgWRAhnjtzoavHEv3s97QsYkrcfgGqHDIQk3v6WKzInnNW7slMFgHLtKKNmkWNaS45htKp3mMfwHmvSCvcGy-nhBfAAoEI161DxU0kyihEV0hHBy_JuFbCmwaisu9UvLxyCqqE/s1600-h/DSCF9256.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325657317125198802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3zN-ftgWRAhnjtzoavHEv3s97QsYkrcfgGqHDIQk3v6WKzInnNW7slMFgHLtKKNmkWNaS45htKp3mMfwHmvSCvcGy-nhBfAAoEI161DxU0kyihEV0hHBy_JuFbCmwaisu9UvLxyCqqE/s320/DSCF9256.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I have decided that I have a quiet mind. The loud noisy instrument inside my head is actually my brain. My mind is what I use to listen with...whether it be literally listening to someones voice or listening to what is behind their voice. I am good at listening sometimes.<br /><br />I am not good at listening when my brain is loud. There are many many times when I feel like I cannot THINK because my brain is busy with the mundane details of life OR cluttered up with emotions that feel out of my control. Sometimes I think if I could harness my brain I could expand my life 10 fold.<br /><br /><br />The mind seeks; the brain processes what the mind finds...<br /><br /><strong>Quietness</strong><br /><strong>Rumi</strong><br />Inside this new love, die.<br />Your way begins on the other side.<br />Become the sky.<br />Take an axe to the prison wall.<br />Escape.<br />Walk out like someone suddenly born into color.<br />Do it now.<br />You are covered with thick cloud.<br />Slide out the side. Die,<br />and be quiet. Quietness is the surest sign<br />that you've died.<br />Your old life was a frantic running<br />from silence.<br /><br />The speechless full moon<br />comes out now.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-47336770999963318622009-04-16T13:00:00.003-04:002009-04-16T13:14:29.794-04:00The difference a year can make.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouC1g5zu9uVXXEFl9Ye0zRY0oqXQAa1Oi2rM5qAJR22jomGf5K20OKJm6DZ-VfES97xuGLwNisH-VABkAHAGlsRxnm8QNj-rVn8HBcp-oQ3Mv40UwkfWoLgh3yoWIbiWkLtpwxnkLqu8/s1600-h/DSCF9230.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325338171411623506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjouC1g5zu9uVXXEFl9Ye0zRY0oqXQAa1Oi2rM5qAJR22jomGf5K20OKJm6DZ-VfES97xuGLwNisH-VABkAHAGlsRxnm8QNj-rVn8HBcp-oQ3Mv40UwkfWoLgh3yoWIbiWkLtpwxnkLqu8/s320/DSCF9230.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG7WeROhwvu_9fDxYkM1DZOqztguOblgIKCihZx7vNzCqpNf99qUMcFZqV0_G-3KJeSzTkW7E4C58q69B62OPO6G_evBXAF8D1jInO90KNh_edh09zBjLFjOEuH8IzU62vz3-GPPsuTDM/s1600-h/DSCF9203.JPG"></a><br /><br /><div>I was looking back over the posts I've written because I've been plagued by a feeling that last year was so much better than this year. Silly, but I remember feeling an upwelling of physical and spiritual energy at this time last year. I couldn't do enough Tai chi and I felt the green, sap energy of the earth flowing in my veins. This year I am tired...so very tired.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>I am searching for a reason for this difference and it eludes me. I keep seeking that earth energy, it too is eluding me. I am frustrated. I am doing Tai Chi more often than I have been of late, but it is not helping. Perhaps I am trying too hard. Maybe it is time to stop looking and sit back and just let it come. I hope so as that is the only plan I have left.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Last year Spring time was pure joy for me, this year it feel dusty and brown and depressing. I think maybe I need to spend some time out in the sun and the wind...just saying that I could feel a glimmer on the edge of my soul of something MORE...</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-42582832039681200752009-04-02T16:32:00.003-04:002009-04-02T16:40:18.931-04:00A community<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmESHLu2VJinDjcvtwYxyWdydHmio-Wpjugd09erNmo6Ksdo19gYa4VoJfsvCqViqLcFm1rF5Rh7APzHENipLRQICCsNMSMLZ7wYpOXT3gsJRIEN8HP2J-2dHt_MS-SVK6qHxl7z10p5M/s1600-h/DSCF9363.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320196544612863810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmESHLu2VJinDjcvtwYxyWdydHmio-Wpjugd09erNmo6Ksdo19gYa4VoJfsvCqViqLcFm1rF5Rh7APzHENipLRQICCsNMSMLZ7wYpOXT3gsJRIEN8HP2J-2dHt_MS-SVK6qHxl7z10p5M/s320/DSCF9363.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Today the day began with an interesting couple who had just escaped from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lubbock</span> Texas. They themselves declared that they had escaped, they were doing some political work and felt like they had just escaped with their lives. They were so relieved to be in Vermont. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Later in the day my partner came by to visit and some neighbors. We were just talking and two customers, one regular and one person I didn't know, just jumped in and joined the conversation. It was lovely. Although I noticed that people feel helpless and there is a lot of anger directed at people who are not "enlightened" to the situation our world faces.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>It was good that I was able to say to one woman that I think what is important to notice is that we still have the privilege and the opportunity to connect as human beings on a one to one basis. We can set aside political boundaries and beliefs and just be together. That is the glory of community.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>It is good to belong to the human community in all it's glory and angst.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-92027073138467898642009-03-18T09:48:00.002-04:002009-03-18T10:06:07.850-04:00Some time has passed...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxZMYQ1VBVUUhU_lu4mRBUO7FMwmijhbeMI44vSoFgWv4LFi1Zbfw1MlpRp22fW9Z-XoENTh8-AtuRS8eLtXWHeizknNqdze1bAyu-UH9eGscB45WgUdBffd6wh8Q1KSCvhRC9vSuvys/s1600-h/DSCF9226.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314528743376738530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxZMYQ1VBVUUhU_lu4mRBUO7FMwmijhbeMI44vSoFgWv4LFi1Zbfw1MlpRp22fW9Z-XoENTh8-AtuRS8eLtXWHeizknNqdze1bAyu-UH9eGscB45WgUdBffd6wh8Q1KSCvhRC9vSuvys/s400/DSCF9226.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>and I haven't written. I read something today and decided to just write and not wait for some kind of brilliant inspiration. Perhaps if I write I will be inspired. Is this writing something for myself or is it for you to read?? It should be for me only, but then why the public posting. Why do I crave public approval? Why do I see a moment of grace and feel the need to capture it in a photo to share, I always think I should absorb it and be satisfied. Maybe it is just another facet of longing for connection, linkage to other human beings, sharing moments of grace.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I hope so.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-80059997620611007042008-11-28T17:42:00.002-05:002008-11-28T17:48:27.469-05:00LanguageI was thinking about language and stories today. I think we want our stories heard, we want other people and sometimes language gets in the way. I am never as eloquent on this blog as I am in my head when I'm thinking about what I want to say.<br /><br />Sometimes in group situations it is like I am sitting outside of myself watching. Watching the people in the group maneuver around each other, almost warily. I often just want to command the situation and say everyone relax, let go, but that almost always backfires. <br /><br />Arrrgghh this is not what I want to say. I'll try again tomorrow.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-78767443260091920422008-11-26T16:19:00.002-05:002008-11-26T16:26:47.040-05:00TodayToday has been a really good day. I went to my former school for Thanksgiving dinner with all the folks. It is good to see people and touch base with the young people, but really the best part of the day was saying Goodbye to a few people and just striding out the door with no regrets. It's been a long time coming, this guilt free feeling.<br /><br />The store has been bustling with folks, some just dropping in to shake my hand and say, "Happy Thanksgiving." Lots of people have told me they are thankful that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">GMB</span> is here and thriving. I try to tell them all with sincerity that I am thankful for them.<br /><br />Here is some more <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">JC</span> (um...that would be Joseph Campbell not Jesus Christ!)<br /><br />"To take a righteous attitude toward anything<br />is to denigrate it.<br /><br />Awe is what moves us forward.<br /><br />Eternity<br />is a dimension<br />of here and now.<br /><br />The divine lies within you.<br /><br />Live from your own center."Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-70072107620566937182008-11-25T13:22:00.003-05:002008-11-25T13:42:29.516-05:00um...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfEuM7N1Efot5oU7Pd4HB_t9mKet9T0xa8QVGkUgIy1-Jk2L6EDC_3DsKz_IDTy2zyfPp7d5oUP7Aq2ZvlwAsz_pqfdO8cIrFOvBz_LPM57yE6d8W1_CH8s2Jh1gTOkSILwrk0UnX4KQ/s1600-h/DSCF8323.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272667378374477794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMfEuM7N1Efot5oU7Pd4HB_t9mKet9T0xa8QVGkUgIy1-Jk2L6EDC_3DsKz_IDTy2zyfPp7d5oUP7Aq2ZvlwAsz_pqfdO8cIrFOvBz_LPM57yE6d8W1_CH8s2Jh1gTOkSILwrk0UnX4KQ/s320/DSCF8323.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>There have been a few people harping, simply harping on me to write something. (This is about my sister <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tai</span> Chi friend, not you, you don't harp.)<br /><br />Friday night I attended two events, this is a big night out for me these days. The first was the VFW fund raising Meat Raffle. Yep, here in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">NEK</span> of VT we raffle meat and hey, I won a ham, had a couple of drinks and caroused with the hunters in from deer camp. This isn't just any Meat Raffle either, this is competitive meat raffling there are two teams who go every year and compete against each other. It was fun; loud, noisy grown-ups hooting and hollering, giving each other a hard time and yet obviously really caring about each other. Even in this wild environment people were on the look out for each other, holding the door, cautiously navigating around the woman on crutches and helping her, checking in with each other. On one level it was about meat and on another it was about unity.<br /><br />Second event a house party. It started after the meat raffle with a whole different crew of people. Mostly couples who have young children. There were a lot of musicians and a great band. It was sad and interesting to watch all of these parents really work to battle sexism. The men wanted to stay and play music and hang out, the women wanted to stay and play music and hang out...the children needed to go home and go to bed. As sexism requires it mostly fell to the women to take care of the children and the men stayed behind. Ouch for everyone involved.<br /><br />I overheard one young father and musician talking about it. He mentioned that his girlfriend had left with the children and was angry. He seemed so hopeless about figuring out how to do it. Then he said, "But I'm living it, this is it. This is life and I'm in it. I've got to play music." And I went directly to Joseph Campbell:<br /><br />"The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are...<br /><br />The meaning of life is whatever you <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ascribe</span> it to be. Being alive is the meaning. The warrior's approach is to say "yes" to life: "yea" to all of it. Participate joyfully in the sorrows of the world. We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Opportunities</span> to find deeper power within ourselves come when life seems most challenging"<br /><br />The young musician is right.<br /><br />Be it meat raffles or band <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">party's</span>, this is it live within it in joy.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-43976231543791037812008-11-05T09:39:00.002-05:002008-11-05T09:51:02.026-05:00Proud<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmJRVBxDQFWpnX7SVeJ54dUUfkcEeIWdnhhms0I2q84cpMpohclzQy9KXJRMwD4WF_BxCqhi1XPtLyKZoQlgU-igQm82fBiDds7gxZhIHQjiD4fUN_ue2ICHHl0OUOTfPhcXwpzc55OM/s1600-h/barack-obama-bw-1[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265186027254294626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 341px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUmJRVBxDQFWpnX7SVeJ54dUUfkcEeIWdnhhms0I2q84cpMpohclzQy9KXJRMwD4WF_BxCqhi1XPtLyKZoQlgU-igQm82fBiDds7gxZhIHQjiD4fUN_ue2ICHHl0OUOTfPhcXwpzc55OM/s400/barack-obama-bw-1%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>There is nothing to say execpt that I am proud to be an American today.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It is the first time in at least eight years that I can say that.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Change has arrived.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-82142530455748537402008-10-03T14:03:00.003-04:002008-10-03T14:10:48.626-04:00Pleased<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRolhGIuXkt95UXdy-wKvc24qqd-9BsMwPihc7YMUKuZ8kkAxwblWPP33-6PCGxR7TJnrLFVv4wdK3r8166hPLbpCRHC9yTFDFMomWALqk7nZtwGKQ2EUbTG_62uaav7XQJ-vvD9H1eDI/s1600-h/DSCF8190.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252991394093754418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRolhGIuXkt95UXdy-wKvc24qqd-9BsMwPihc7YMUKuZ8kkAxwblWPP33-6PCGxR7TJnrLFVv4wdK3r8166hPLbpCRHC9yTFDFMomWALqk7nZtwGKQ2EUbTG_62uaav7XQJ-vvD9H1eDI/s200/DSCF8190.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This is a picture of me, in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">scudgy</span> bookstore mirror hence the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">spotage</span>, being incredibly pleased. I left my camera in a friends tool trailer, of course this was accidental. The camera wasn't tied down, it was actually sitting on a shelf. When he found it it was on the floor surrounded by heavy pieces of steel tools...completely unharmed. I didn't find out if it was okay for several days. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I am pleased. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>However, I am pleased for several reasons. The most obvious is that my camera was returned intact. The more profound reason is that I had given up all hope and it didn't really matter. I actually achieved <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">un</span>-attachment to something that in general is very important to me. The first evening I hardly slept worrying about it. By the time I got to where I was meeting with my friend I forgot to ask him about it...until he mentioned it. An interesting journey from point a to point b.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I feel like I won twice here. I got to come to terms with my own materialism and I got to get back what I lost.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I am thankful for both the lesson and the outcome.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-77603218054491517102008-10-02T16:39:00.003-04:002008-10-02T16:52:28.907-04:00Debate<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Nl32R9IgE5I7rc08e4tN-MMNiRzfS14lwAJeSUza8vKmUo9ZptXrM2LWKq4rvJfazfPCZkl5Q-hiPVgmr-GAh9kQIGa6gnFEd5AiaZk0BYaVnwXZLezqEeSULM75mpTNzrWHdzRDDhc/s1600-h/palinbidenx-top[1].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252662292126843682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Nl32R9IgE5I7rc08e4tN-MMNiRzfS14lwAJeSUza8vKmUo9ZptXrM2LWKq4rvJfazfPCZkl5Q-hiPVgmr-GAh9kQIGa6gnFEd5AiaZk0BYaVnwXZLezqEeSULM75mpTNzrWHdzRDDhc/s320/palinbidenx-top%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb4egufT7sItAmxPrvPMCuAbNpAj2epT-LqLjSeNirT8ypfE1auh-8F2nr5qBmQm2CKeIXcPd69YUTzUG-KwAzL9Mx_BVojQQ1z4lYzAgU6gaEIBZK6Qid578hPFDNpdw5LBALYbg-wL0/s1600-h/news[1].jpg"></a><br /><br /><div>Tonight after <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Tai</span> Chi class I am going to watch the Vice Presidential debate at Parker Pie in West Glover Vermont.<br /><br />Parker Pie is in the back of an old country store. Some local young people returned to W. Glover after finishing college and decided to start a pizza place. They have three booths and three tables, a bar that seats two, free <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Internet</span> access, awesome pizza, great beer, and it is generally jam packed with folks every night, young, the very young, old, the very old and middle aged folks. I love it there and I think that watching this debate there is really the only thing to do it. I think to watch this debate we should be amid a crowd of like-thinking people, we should definitely have beer handy and pizza with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">gourmet</span> toppings doesn't hurt either.<br /><br />It is difficult for me to watch a woman like the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">candidate</span>. She is really giving women in America a bad name. Women in general a bad name. There are many ways in which I want to see her lose this debate, but it is definitely a torn feeling. Women are equal to men, can think as well as men, can debate as well as men, but I don't think this particular woman can...<br /><br />There was so much excitement about Hillary Clinton and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Barak</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Obama</span> for the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">dems</span>. We tossed the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">stereotypes</span> out the window and stepped into the 21st Century. I think the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Republican</span> party made a mockery of that achievement by nominating this woman and thinking that she in any way is a peer of Hillary <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Rodham</span> Clinton.<br /><br />Enough said. I am glad I will be among friends.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-19226148334463365712008-10-01T10:29:00.003-04:002008-10-01T10:38:24.225-04:00The path of least resistance to pure existanceA customer, and might I say friend, came in yesterday. He is truly working to achieve enlightenment and is forging his path through studying, meditation, yoga etc. His young son recently went off to college and he is now alone. He feels concentrated on his objective. I pointed out to him that he doesn't have much contact with other folks, but he says he does. Visiting in the post office and bookstore, etc.<br /><br />He is very clear.<br /><br />I, however, am not. Yes, I am caught up in judgement, this election is terrifying to me, but I do think that pure <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">existence</span> must include some kind of love of others. I can tell that I don't <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">actually</span> need other people, I could exist without them and probably be relatively happy. But I want connection, I yearn toward it, I really like other people. Each of us need to find our way to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">enlightenment</span> individually I guess, what works for one is not always so for another. In many ways I long for less attachment, but I think of those attachments as being to material things not humans. <br /><br />I keep thinking about "enlightenment" which isn't even defined here. What is it actually? Can we achieve true enlightenment by isolation? Is that real? There are so many questions.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-3072204131718084612008-09-26T11:25:00.005-04:002008-09-26T14:31:35.805-04:00The Fall of the YearAs some of you may know during September and October droves of people come to<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRCqnGHl0jXfhksRcjAEIYa3LZXoh8G_ssF9OotUMTXq6L4GPUhDew91uyM2IMgom3jcfrGmXmS-eAMW7nmss1kEAs5q4bZaqAucO_iu7MrqhWcmJwPpkpzz8r-c31b2p1-hIToMWWUM/s1600-h/images[7].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250361174253158514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCRCqnGHl0jXfhksRcjAEIYa3LZXoh8G_ssF9OotUMTXq6L4GPUhDew91uyM2IMgom3jcfrGmXmS-eAMW7nmss1kEAs5q4bZaqAucO_iu7MrqhWcmJwPpkpzz8r-c31b2p1-hIToMWWUM/s320/images%5B7%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a> Vermont for "leaf peeping". With good reason.<br /><br />I had to drive out to East Burke today to buy some books from their library...<br /><br />Tangent:<br />I had one of those moments that the universe gives me to let me know I am connected and tuned in to something. Yesterday as I puttered around the shop I noticed that the perpetual stack of "Model Railroading Magazine" was no longer so unending, the bottom of the pile was visible! I thought where the heck am I going to come across more of those. I immediately saw the potential for something else on <strong>that</strong> shelf. Today at the library sale the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">librarian</span> said, "Do you want some old railroading magazines?" I thought must be something similar but cannot be, but Yes oh yes more "Model Railroading"! Boxes of them in fact. The library folks were tickled that I wanted them and I was tickled that there they were just when I needed them.<br />Ah...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">coincidence</span>.<br /><br />Back to my original post:<br />on the drive to the library I noticed the trees. They are changing again, the fog was heavy this morning and the maples just blaze against it. There is something so tangibly real about the flaming glory of death in autumn. Walking down the street to the bank and post office I noticed the maple in the park, the trees you know don't just turn orange or yellow or red, they slowly one leaf at a time change, so they become a whirlwind of all these colors, including every shade of green, all blended into one individual oil painting of a tree in autumn. They are so perfect I ache.<br /><br />As I pulled back into town from my drive "It's a beautiful morning" came on the radio. It was good to drive through town and notice so many folks out on the streets, an elderly gentleman out walking in shirt sleeves and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD_y3YpgGmWmh8UNPxM8ly5LCkvd0Z39lTthhooBhxQxtLu2DsDidVj1QRPt3N2o9hFIbxCCTjSj-khqJ7FzrETtFgbxk_fBXJeXqx0muVAFNCZ2zChD0LaAyZSYUtanh6pz4VwPn4wUo/s1600-h/images[6].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250361187798191810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD_y3YpgGmWmh8UNPxM8ly5LCkvd0Z39lTthhooBhxQxtLu2DsDidVj1QRPt3N2o9hFIbxCCTjSj-khqJ7FzrETtFgbxk_fBXJeXqx0muVAFNCZ2zChD0LaAyZSYUtanh6pz4VwPn4wUo/s320/images%5B6%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a>his hunting vest, the real estate guy poking his head out of the door to holler at the guy who does the recycling. Someone wending their way down the hill, a woman walking her dog in the park...it was/is a beautiful morning.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-1633504657575645422008-09-25T11:18:00.003-04:002008-09-25T11:29:25.197-04:00All Politics is Personal<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimlPPHR2jZq8D6gbz-13lICt2wcL8fK6Y4vQrUPjTfNseC5HNZCkBQs6BmAjwt_oZR_pduj0iTyAVzGkSEaSi4vq6FmgSrb5UONX2_qxyzYwoPH-xCRJ_drLUdmcSkIltNcMqr_p5TbLQ/s1600-h/images[3].jpg"></a><br /><br /><div>The election is fast approaching. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe5HR4FGwizCbnNWT8vnkoBcG2rHGX8EbJvKEQxHabgJC0yZ4j6r_2Y8BU3av4zRHDF9Vo5KD3hg4kdtGgtE1514wYV3DvnT9kFXV-xsCQLTalgHtMWwEwTaqwTek8sp24lpOcLKEb8zQ/s1600-h/images[3].jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249981425133792418" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe5HR4FGwizCbnNWT8vnkoBcG2rHGX8EbJvKEQxHabgJC0yZ4j6r_2Y8BU3av4zRHDF9Vo5KD3hg4kdtGgtE1514wYV3DvnT9kFXV-xsCQLTalgHtMWwEwTaqwTek8sp24lpOcLKEb8zQ/s400/images%5B3%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I, and many people I know, am terrified. I don't know how we will continue in this country if we don't have a big change. I don't want to preach my political views here, I just want to write about how I am feeling, which in a nutshell is scared.<br /><br />A very good friend feels differently about this situation and it has been hard for me to take. We have decided to "agree to disagree" but this too is very hard for me. I feel like some education is needed (I'm sure she feels the same way). I don't want to force my opinion on her, but I don't understand how an educated intelligent woman can feel the way she does. It is frustrating and inevitably leads to more of those scary feelings.<br /><br />The one and only answer that I can devise is that we as Americans and as humans need each other. We need to share with each other despite our differences. We need to hold each other, laugh together, notice each other, cry together. Men, women, black, white, able, disabled, old, young, Catholics, Jews, Muslums, Christians...the list goes on and on....mostly just humans. There is so much we can do united, and so much holding us apart.<br /><br />There is no way I would let a difference of opinions shape the way I feel about my friend. We are close and will continue to be so. We need to overcome fear and isolation if any change is going to happen. The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">divisiveness</span> of this election is the opposite of the direction we should head in.<br /><br />This much I know is true.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-91783129118800470552008-09-24T13:20:00.003-04:002008-09-24T13:30:30.817-04:00The Ocean<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJ08yRBSrqqvlI4KOb6rtXx52pZr2Pj-e9pCup4zjF4eVSfpoQM8HadoIUq13c_ZJUO-p5LXAWHLWX2jLL-pPczjQSJ53RTiTxWrwQrTWFup_E6QCY4CS-rW4PFIPXxhLF7N2nhLMgiw/s1600-h/DSCF7990.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249641237865895346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglJ08yRBSrqqvlI4KOb6rtXx52pZr2Pj-e9pCup4zjF4eVSfpoQM8HadoIUq13c_ZJUO-p5LXAWHLWX2jLL-pPczjQSJ53RTiTxWrwQrTWFup_E6QCY4CS-rW4PFIPXxhLF7N2nhLMgiw/s400/DSCF7990.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCX3u986gbOtTu51ENLczF-DxN2zUvRZdIsw401woUj_pgleqhBJocLc4bQbahNtQQm73CTHadKDGMAiuM8MV0aeNx2VU-4xxSngw508q2bRoZYE_H0bodCI85YGjCwQinwZmiLbSTQE/s1600-h/DSCF7971.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249641244229708210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzCX3u986gbOtTu51ENLczF-DxN2zUvRZdIsw401woUj_pgleqhBJocLc4bQbahNtQQm73CTHadKDGMAiuM8MV0aeNx2VU-4xxSngw508q2bRoZYE_H0bodCI85YGjCwQinwZmiLbSTQE/s400/DSCF7971.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>A couple of weeks back I went to Maine to visit friends. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We took the ferry out to Peak's Island. There is something about the salt water that moves me. I stood on the boat in the deep fog and felt ancient, as if I had at one time inhabited someone <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">else's</span> bones. Someone who lived on the water. Someone with brown salt crusted skin, eyes half opened, seamed faced. Someone who was me or not....</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I am not a great believer in things unseen...but I was moved.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249641258026335794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3MGIgEYywcJsG-Hz27_bNsjSxmCm8wy5Phnscx2iEqmDWmmMrBybDu7r__lLE1iYnvTcdHhHZ6J5VkiVRYFgEQ3gmlUrI0CDQ2YULen_jO3K7Z0hnRH1cNLTYTrmKicMME_46BqGbWnE/s400/DSCF7954.JPG" border="0" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-54661902312702565642008-09-23T12:49:00.004-04:002008-09-23T13:28:56.140-04:00Recapturing an old thought<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDQERjtGTLA8hHNKBIVAaF360TjA1vxWuJNIFEeLFgLf0KNg7f89Wr1dJbqPaRUp1Scf1ajBWvQrLvBYyfVMzl8MJK5vEtgJU49QkWOKFZIn25ZOLWRtGdqsui4EXiKYkK4xJsqqIhnE/s1600-h/DSCF8055.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249262129798579858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDQERjtGTLA8hHNKBIVAaF360TjA1vxWuJNIFEeLFgLf0KNg7f89Wr1dJbqPaRUp1Scf1ajBWvQrLvBYyfVMzl8MJK5vEtgJU49QkWOKFZIn25ZOLWRtGdqsui4EXiKYkK4xJsqqIhnE/s400/DSCF8055.JPG" border="0" /></a> (Self-portrait?)<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMvwFepq9Y4nzoi-U__wUOeOndtIgaBmPo7NLH_O4Lf4ruj33OshrApdlJekHW7MzEaAiG-QZmvJoBgbsVEbVVfCODU5dyEtBZhnJrJkhfaYbqLotLu9wZxHkPP3pv7QgFBBJ3yMnY_aw/s1600-h/DSCF8052.JPG"></a><br /><br /><div>John Lennon said, "Life is what happens when you are making plans."<br /><br />A customer quoted this to me the other day and I've taken it to heart. I am a tried and true planner, it is a pattern developed in childhood for security, I think. I've decided to abandon it somewhat. I'm trying to focus on the here and now and truly appreciate it. I mean sure I can plan what I want for dinner or what I am going to do this weekend, but I am choosing not to live longing for that time to come. So far I think I am somewhat successful, although I find that money really gets in the way of this kind of thinking. Money takes planning for me.<br /><br />I took these pictures this last weekend. A prime example of trying not to plan too much...I really wanted to be spontaneous and free this weekend. Things go so much better if I'm not attached to what I think I need. I had a really good time, just being me. I played a little, talked a little, spent time living. It's all I really want out of every day.</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-54569132957412474922008-09-22T15:53:00.004-04:002008-09-22T16:23:38.491-04:00City Energy<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiNAnALC9xL-2mSjz5pWFbrOeYwCPphXnKuuH51hnO7B3vnaklMx2kd8EtCStdp2azpZrdTPgjFkYZ1aAPrsdUgv53Mynelzsav1eDugQ8ZjOBV6y3D18jJSNoBOf0us-RjvwWkRNxYE4/s1600-h/DSCF8019.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248943477395276082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiNAnALC9xL-2mSjz5pWFbrOeYwCPphXnKuuH51hnO7B3vnaklMx2kd8EtCStdp2azpZrdTPgjFkYZ1aAPrsdUgv53Mynelzsav1eDugQ8ZjOBV6y3D18jJSNoBOf0us-RjvwWkRNxYE4/s320/DSCF8019.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4R3U_9qP9w5xdv-KAEttuF2I4UGunnAvJ0faKWJ3k7Cz6OJMD7QbV2P2P0xdbUBa7v_dooK4xPNBqvCOkw0TC_hZQTN4Ub_Bq3bgJnXplyPWptMMMxdGdqHQsk0GmD39Y_eN5z51YXtQ/s1600-h/DSCF8013.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248943489178806066" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4R3U_9qP9w5xdv-KAEttuF2I4UGunnAvJ0faKWJ3k7Cz6OJMD7QbV2P2P0xdbUBa7v_dooK4xPNBqvCOkw0TC_hZQTN4Ub_Bq3bgJnXplyPWptMMMxdGdqHQsk0GmD39Y_eN5z51YXtQ/s320/DSCF8013.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJVHclUPXOXyql24Rwc3mdDl7-FgzcimyuaRMaU-lqltEr9Z0f0Fkj85anmNv1Gx6c7sJAehBWAZutcZWiZEf9RjfmUkfyvFQdVMbsFSWBiWMFjWGIDluFp50LYAi7eidu0H5kji_GMQ/s1600-h/DSCF8005.JPG"></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCuQPxr_mMFv0YKQOKCN5kzDlo-Kbhzsv_z5o7Y5XWBSZHPKwMj1mGz_Jurow2Cum6iUGFx1fxCIhda7jFVqKxgKjyUlkBI-tFMqwH05Ilhxo1ejmXBoOeHNVTS6JQZ0Y8MfTXDOFYcqI/s1600-h/DSCF8019.JPG"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRcothzoI_ZmqcjlYyXZ2y2t7xr945URx9XL00Khhm_Z_0xgPtXbZ3tBKD28y07nFBx-bCho4xUt2kg4wzOgguwEVl7hwG5mKCrSdley-LL3Rb0qCppRLuBDVLU2K0Q0RaAk_vrLc4cK0/s1600-h/DSCF8014.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiNAnALC9xL-2mSjz5pWFbrOeYwCPphXnKuuH51hnO7B3vnaklMx2kd8EtCStdp2azpZrdTPgjFkYZ1aAPrsdUgv53Mynelzsav1eDugQ8ZjOBV6y3D18jJSNoBOf0us-RjvwWkRNxYE4/s1600-h/DSCF8019.JPG"></a> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>It has been a while but my recent trip to Boston has inspired some thoughts.<br /><br />There is something about the energy of the city that makes me feel alive in a way that I never do in the woods. It is a wild and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">woolly</span> feeling..amid the rushing crowds I feel connected and oh so human. I don't think I would have this feeling if I lived there all of the time. It is an awesome feeling, literally I am awe inspired by the works of man, the mass of mankind perched together, teeming, on the edge of an ocean. As a part of that mass I feel much larger than I do in the woods. There I am aware of how <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">infinitesimally</span> small I really am. And against all odds I feel connected. I walk the streets making contact with others, I talk to them, esp<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wTqL85PIl7R8TUzCbhL4M491v-rxEFnqCm4suKMsPMypysYq7pTe079ndrYQcmr_H4ZC1codZEhNCDNDa30zTMDb037iO30vRldEmdPJswmXYc2pqJXpz_oaLGTFR8CX2l8LrpuafeY/s1600-h/DSCF8014.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248943485403644130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wTqL85PIl7R8TUzCbhL4M491v-rxEFnqCm4suKMsPMypysYq7pTe079ndrYQcmr_H4ZC1codZEhNCDNDa30zTMDb037iO30vRldEmdPJswmXYc2pqJXpz_oaLGTFR8CX2l8LrpuafeY/s320/DSCF8014.JPG" border="0" /></a>ecially those who are marginalized. I am aware because it is so unusual for me.<br /><br />I love the architecture, it is as beautiful as the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">mountain</span> ranges and pointed firs reaching skyward, a reflection really. And I love the age especially of Boston. There you can really see the decades of history, it is a real march through time and space...the cathedrals jammed in next to an all glass building, next to an iron bridge...man's thought processes all <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">juxtaposed</span>...</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-45403664207176572282008-07-28T16:03:00.004-04:002008-07-28T16:18:27.631-04:00Beginning<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqlRwNOAJ778d2svjOgVCoHyHA-oKcaLBfxt99jL1DRtF07moe-eKKu610WHrWNoYfFoF0xzyaxob-d3jxWXA9COPgCjpgjUfm4XqH6pF7lXlOp7xQ_KtXQUPqIA3ntPOzWgg8k-sqRA/s1600-h/DSCF7463.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228161692091680242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqlRwNOAJ778d2svjOgVCoHyHA-oKcaLBfxt99jL1DRtF07moe-eKKu610WHrWNoYfFoF0xzyaxob-d3jxWXA9COPgCjpgjUfm4XqH6pF7lXlOp7xQ_KtXQUPqIA3ntPOzWgg8k-sqRA/s320/DSCF7463.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3nVg6HiZRYG336QxMgX8jThyRLZTk2CrlZjK-RlHmMkom_CCe2NI492SWsxnzcxeSl5RcAEKzD0RDxifmEV2XrREOeksIfaklqmSFn-z9JGkTitfKWP9wF1eKOPpaaxzvubgwMMJrlhA/s1600-h/DSCF7451.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228161708628028450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3nVg6HiZRYG336QxMgX8jThyRLZTk2CrlZjK-RlHmMkom_CCe2NI492SWsxnzcxeSl5RcAEKzD0RDxifmEV2XrREOeksIfaklqmSFn-z9JGkTitfKWP9wF1eKOPpaaxzvubgwMMJrlhA/s320/DSCF7451.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkTuQYsZwVp_T973RRgRTz2ZpaFtypQ8gd_ePXpP5sFQ9RFm2dVJkSZCUCENz7XUlXcTmdX1qY2uh_RhMiAoYF79urmWte9BXHum_gOkgv9agZ6HgnqQAg_WrDZMptejSQl1aOWlTNYg/s1600-h/DSCF7449.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228161719051770594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYkTuQYsZwVp_T973RRgRTz2ZpaFtypQ8gd_ePXpP5sFQ9RFm2dVJkSZCUCENz7XUlXcTmdX1qY2uh_RhMiAoYF79urmWte9BXHum_gOkgv9agZ6HgnqQAg_WrDZMptejSQl1aOWlTNYg/s320/DSCF7449.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnfISqsl4i54jMsBX0xdM2mxoW_KjABlb14RO4BQi4YEfnHvV8uDoibyZRlt0u4vwTObwHgxeNoWyhOiDC5Md-z9rXvCa3kk1KUYJbB-csCjqQSWG2rsxprZL2V-3WSilzNrMLoUleEM/s1600-h/DSCF7448.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228161733130453682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnfISqsl4i54jMsBX0xdM2mxoW_KjABlb14RO4BQi4YEfnHvV8uDoibyZRlt0u4vwTObwHgxeNoWyhOiDC5Md-z9rXvCa3kk1KUYJbB-csCjqQSWG2rsxprZL2V-3WSilzNrMLoUleEM/s320/DSCF7448.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>(These pictures are unrelated to the following information. I just wanted to put them up.)<br /><br /><br /><br />I think I found a way to begin changing the world. On July 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> I backed into someone while <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">parallel</span> parking. I scratched the bumper of the Saab behind me. I left a note, which someone told me not to...said it was setting myself up for a world of trouble (hey I'm paraphrasing okay?). I left the note. The guy called, I gave him the information. He was nice, I was nice. Actually I really like him and we got to talking for quite some time...what he does what I do, small business owners chit chat.<br /><br />I got a call from the insurance company today. I explained what happened. The guy at the insurance company said I was a good person for leaving the note. He said if someone hit him at work no one would leave a note...<br /><br />Then it happened I changed the world.<br /><br />I said "Would you leave a note?"<br /><br />He paused..."um..."<br /><br />Maybe now he will think twice and leave the note. Maybe he will notice that the owner of the car he hit is a person. A living breathing entity, with thoughts, and FEELINGS. That we live in a world filled with people, not problems. Maybe he will get to talk to the person he hits, exchange life notes, make a connection. Similar to the connection I made with him.<br /><br />I thought today I would write about community. About how important it is to me. I didn't think it would be about the car accident. In the course of rereading I realize I did write about community.</div><div><br />Interesting that.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-70708949382918268102008-07-25T14:06:00.005-04:002008-07-25T14:46:08.048-04:00What is Wrong with Today<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhau6MohQcA_4dVDV7cMyf717s2zOSVULqs8tXW8_3vO4W_Zq46w_XMzGLjyY6pd2mNvK5TeenzVJXvonHv7nNWzldbhDwY6nyUoe1Sry46Wo6YlzMbwWpsqh-lQATZzCE7oJIEMN9BkhA/s1600-h/al+and+katies+wedding+024.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227024323745497906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhau6MohQcA_4dVDV7cMyf717s2zOSVULqs8tXW8_3vO4W_Zq46w_XMzGLjyY6pd2mNvK5TeenzVJXvonHv7nNWzldbhDwY6nyUoe1Sry46Wo6YlzMbwWpsqh-lQATZzCE7oJIEMN9BkhA/s320/al+and+katies+wedding+024.jpg" border="0" /></a> I was on the phone with the phone company for over an hour this morning. As I was calling from my business phone, this did not please me. I know I missed book business calls. Due to an error I made combining two bills the company has overcharged me. I did not hang up, I did not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">harangue</span> the people I was talking to (even though I was transferred 3 times and had to explain the situation every time!), I kept a smile in my voice for them. They have hard jobs.<br /><br />The final outcome is that I got a fax...which upon reading I realized I had to send back in five days time with proof of payment...if not the whole issue would be dropped and I would be back to square one. No one on the phone told me this information, not that I would be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">receiving</span> a fax or that I would have to send it back.<br /><br />I feel fortunate in the fact that I am a reader, I own a small business and every penny counts I am not paying that extra money, but I think of people out in the world who don't necessarily <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">have</span> the same resources that I have...this is what burns my cookies. Recently a similar issue happened with my partner. He was supposed to get <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Workman's</span> compensation for an injury at work. He was denied, but we were lucky in that my Mom is a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Workman's</span> compensation claim rep. so we had the inside track. We appealed and won the appeal, but if my Mother hadn't been there telling me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">what</span> hoops to jump through we would be paying bills that we weren't responsible for.<br /><br />I guess the point of this rant is that so often people get screwed because of red tape. They don't know how to handle the situation, don't have access to resources to help them, don't have the stamina or the time to stay on the phone for an hour and a half. Our society is not people friendly...how do we change that? How do we stay focused on the positive, notice that those are PEOPLE on the other end of the phone line? Help each other solve our problems? Companies are wary <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">because</span> people are trying to get out of paying their bills all the time. What happened to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">honesty</span>?<br /><br />I think major things could be changed here, but where do I begin?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-77816979882649243572008-07-22T11:05:00.003-04:002008-07-22T11:23:32.428-04:00Disaster<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga10a4oLp2CFg7CXcVw2QF3fdnapCWJ_Ed2g5_oUHcL1bifvkmPtMatoX2MI8Vb0jm5FDYotPdgZhM46HQrgb82yaaSPX2wJS52w1yRu0BRo9KBXDjEwQyPnbWj2WX7jaMkrQBfCVUc68/s1600-h/DSCF6994_edited.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225859360893854658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga10a4oLp2CFg7CXcVw2QF3fdnapCWJ_Ed2g5_oUHcL1bifvkmPtMatoX2MI8Vb0jm5FDYotPdgZhM46HQrgb82yaaSPX2wJS52w1yRu0BRo9KBXDjEwQyPnbWj2WX7jaMkrQBfCVUc68/s400/DSCF6994_edited.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Disaster struck a dear friend of mine.<br /><br />A mini tornado or micro-burst hit his house in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Waterville</span> Vermont last Friday. He lost about 250 trees 80 of which were in his not very long driveway. The trees looked like pixie sticks tossed down at the whim of the wind. He lost his garage which was picked up and hurled into the side of his house, a large tree fell on his house, another fell nearby and uprooted his deck. In the long run he was not injured, his house wasn't badly damaged and neither of the cars in the garage were injured. Be thankful for the blessing we have.<br /><br />I spent the day with him on Sunday trying to be helpful. We cleaned up about five downed trees in the backyard. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Including</span> a huge old willow, it felt completely futile. I worked hard in the pouring rain all day, soaked through to the skin, we made giant burn piles out of the trees, when we were done the yard was cleared, completely futile in the face of what was there.<br /><br />When I got home I could not shake the feeling of shock. It was difficult to leave him there alone, although my partner went back the next day. I have been having a difficult time finding the words to explain the feeling...being involved so emotionally and physically and then just coming back into work and being here with everyone who hasn't experienced such a thing. It is an odd displaced feeling.<br /><br />He has power again and phones and eventually all will be well. Again I am thankful for the blessings.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-55309521342178798432008-07-18T10:39:00.004-04:002008-07-18T11:18:39.022-04:00Shaking it Loose<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Hurzt96yvYoi54HSRliR3ACOmTO6h4VWI0X7RXXXAJ4TK2HmuIGst7g-oLYzGKP_jH9Rr9bXm9dPQnQ0UvWKVaUr028LG__ob-eOIviuuB6wzIbAQgtX1FOPYXUJWr-r0PpdXXUQ3Sk/s1600-h/DSCF6957.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224367639796956290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Hurzt96yvYoi54HSRliR3ACOmTO6h4VWI0X7RXXXAJ4TK2HmuIGst7g-oLYzGKP_jH9Rr9bXm9dPQnQ0UvWKVaUr028LG__ob-eOIviuuB6wzIbAQgtX1FOPYXUJWr-r0PpdXXUQ3Sk/s200/DSCF6957.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Today is a better day. I am once again present in my life and I've shaken loose the stuff that had me in it's grip yesterday.<br /><br />Today is a stormy, thundery, heavy rain day. It is delightful. It makes me feel wild...probably the electricity in the air.<br /><br />I had an experience a couple of weeks ago with a snake, a toad, and a man. We were working on cleaning up a tree that fell down in our yard, blocking it up for firewood and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAXEtyFtsKbg6pnvd1kGV3qMi3CZzNkZftt_-A3XeDN8cI3o3vWBNAZ-d3d6t9MGqQ19KBeUDUe40OwdBDo68JOJKHzgQ3rIdj__Mo2iXRkM9sx31ZcT7Dn1-aqfKezZaV1HRWpf9Meuw/s1600-h/DSCF6961.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224367636784917250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAXEtyFtsKbg6pnvd1kGV3qMi3CZzNkZftt_-A3XeDN8cI3o3vWBNAZ-d3d6t9MGqQ19KBeUDUe40OwdBDo68JOJKHzgQ3rIdj__Mo2iXRkM9sx31ZcT7Dn1-aqfKezZaV1HRWpf9Meuw/s200/DSCF6961.JPG" border="0" /></a>stacking it...I walked by the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">perennial</span> garden with an armload of wood and movement caught my eye. There was a large garter snake under the irises. At first I could see only it's body, then I saw it's head, jaws stretched taut around the bod,y head! of a large toad. I quickly called worm boy (code for my life partner) over and we sat and watched that snake try to eat that giant toad for at least 20 minutes. It was Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom right in my own back yard. After the 20 minutes the tree and the wood called and we went back to work, with occasional stops to check progress. Shockingly the snake gave up...I paused to look and <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3pf4tIkMoZkuKDFD8SSzbLlurTXrNWW_OjoQUVoqF67wiqV5mdqgMSHhmxqR-YI_-rf8IndSNyqMrATB9Q237cHQEW1BF1fV122FvDuh4GxhjRbHA7vpLHIf3WUmcOaCuIjsjeVfoefY/s1600-h/DSCF6962.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224367634117718226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3pf4tIkMoZkuKDFD8SSzbLlurTXrNWW_OjoQUVoqF67wiqV5mdqgMSHhmxqR-YI_-rf8IndSNyqMrATB9Q237cHQEW1BF1fV122FvDuh4GxhjRbHA7vpLHIf3WUmcOaCuIjsjeVfoefY/s200/DSCF6962.JPG" border="0" /></a>there was a fat toad and no snake. I called worm boy over and we checked out the toad who was fine, a bit <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">slimy</span>, but quite alive. We moved him into the woods out of the deadly perennial garden. I was glad he survived against all odds.<br /><br />The best thing about this experience was it made me feel ten years old again. I was an explorer of forest and fields..often alone. This time I had a friend and companion who was as interested as I was, another human who was willing to sit for 20 minutes <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlR9x466ITRU-VL_6Lt9xDlD0JE0bzq-M-ascB2tR6b27PDKhMw0bnOpyD3TqGSZD_NRIzhYd2YaonCrpArRZkOiL6UgyCMmIC57qeqnTSnUoLpyyRGhS278luxJW5NCwnZ0mpicWi78/s1600-h/DSCF6954.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224367646771382402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlR9x466ITRU-VL_6Lt9xDlD0JE0bzq-M-ascB2tR6b27PDKhMw0bnOpyD3TqGSZD_NRIzhYd2YaonCrpArRZkOiL6UgyCMmIC57qeqnTSnUoLpyyRGhS278luxJW5NCwnZ0mpicWi78/s200/DSCF6954.JPG" border="0" /></a>and quietly watch a snake try to eat a toad. Someone who was just as amazed by the survival of the toad. It was a good day.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-86693213416591704612008-07-17T11:39:00.004-04:002008-07-17T11:45:33.775-04:00Anxiety<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtQCBW3bC3AWSzY3NYG1cKTL_MiNaEsFNFIFEhpEyhkfeBxZuTX7f8y25wwIJih3oZn68zuLkHxio9Rn_dZCm6E_kSXScO66tN2PsXueIrVEhylDkp6BTV9ArL9P8jbG5CtIVo0L_c4A/s1600-h/DSCF6512.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224009611529015666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRtQCBW3bC3AWSzY3NYG1cKTL_MiNaEsFNFIFEhpEyhkfeBxZuTX7f8y25wwIJih3oZn68zuLkHxio9Rn_dZCm6E_kSXScO66tN2PsXueIrVEhylDkp6BTV9ArL9P8jbG5CtIVo0L_c4A/s400/DSCF6512.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It is interesting how you can be in connection with people and have the same old scenarios play out again and again. I think we've all changed, grown, become better people...more compassionate toward each other, more empathetic, but then I get anxious. I worry that the same old thing is going to happen all over again and the cycle will repeat itself with all of the hurt and sadness.<br /><br />It is good to note that these are just feelings that perhaps everyone has. It doesn't really stop my brain from spinning like a squirrel in a wheel, but hey nothing does.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Breathing</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Tai</span> Chi and time are probably the only solutions.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-37135962452156169232008-07-11T11:54:00.003-04:002008-07-11T12:04:33.797-04:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilobpm6m__pSJ1KWQtDus5cZYlk9wJob_er_qB85CwrS6EtNhWjbjYygowyjN0QZGXUEPMxcAt8UrLpYzaUr92BUX0i8vXZteW7FymE3x-4j3s3GIfiEJDPj7PJnhNAHW1RzWoXa4c1gw/s1600-h/DSCF6475.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221788005084280786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilobpm6m__pSJ1KWQtDus5cZYlk9wJob_er_qB85CwrS6EtNhWjbjYygowyjN0QZGXUEPMxcAt8UrLpYzaUr92BUX0i8vXZteW7FymE3x-4j3s3GIfiEJDPj7PJnhNAHW1RzWoXa4c1gw/s400/DSCF6475.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>The community of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lyndonville</span> has really united around the death of our dear Doctor. It has been interesting to be a part of and to watch how people deal with such a shocking blow. Everyone in town is talking about what happened, giving the details they know and seeking information. There is something about our human psyche that longs for intimate facts, we yearn to be a part of the story, to know the story, in order that we may ease our grief.<br /><br />We seek to let the familiars and intimates of Dr. E know that we who knew him less well mourn him. We want to comfort them with our massive presence. This feeling of unity convinces me that humans have always been creatures of family, we are not meant to be solitary, although the forces that be in this world try to convince us that we should be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">separate</span>.<br /><br />Think of the power of a united humanity. Think of what we could do for each other if we lived without fear, with instead open hearts and minds. Oh what a world it would be.<br /><br />For now I am thankful that I live in a community capable of reaching for each other in times of crisis.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-68442536015863033442008-07-09T12:06:00.002-04:002008-07-09T12:37:13.502-04:00Loss<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtID8NeWGEMo8ysUaWZzWH6i6ib8-2zaB5ezm0bZFSKuehlEObqD6-oHvbSJMS8nCRWl47osGRsFO1Ur8ISM4_dlh426SQ1-MSFhMw5Gb5JIerxBcrSFvRTyLvs4dqz6-bf_8XAwedck/s1600-h/DSCF6906.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221054215979821458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGtID8NeWGEMo8ysUaWZzWH6i6ib8-2zaB5ezm0bZFSKuehlEObqD6-oHvbSJMS8nCRWl47osGRsFO1Ur8ISM4_dlh426SQ1-MSFhMw5Gb5JIerxBcrSFvRTyLvs4dqz6-bf_8XAwedck/s400/DSCF6906.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>A doctor who lives and practices in our community died today. He was working in the woods and suffered a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">traumatic</span> brain injury. He was alone and left in the woods for 16 hours. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It is such an unexpected tragic blow to have this man. who touched so many lives, gone. It has effected our whole town/community, on this hot sunny July day there is a black cloud. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Many</span> people who did not even know him are grieving his loss. I am included in this number.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I am having two lines of thought: how rich this man's life was and how many people he touched. He was a doctor, a mentor, a writer, a father, a friend to so many. One can only hope that the ripples that one creates with one's death will reach this wide. What a spirit he had to reach out to so many in his community. He was raised in this small rural community, went away, became a doctor, and returned. He built a practice, raised a family, lived in this community.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Second thoughts are more personal...basically I feel terrified about the fact that it is true that at any moment our lives could be utterly devastated by an accident. The people who loved this doctor will never be the same, our community will never be the same. I want everyone I love to be safe, guarded, happy...</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Blessings to all.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-518655139974433380.post-83008108928420591472008-07-08T13:38:00.002-04:002008-07-08T14:09:37.304-04:00RecoveryI have been thinking about human interaction and how we recover from hurt <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">received</span> by those closest to us. What I have determined is that we don't really recover. I think of those I know who have relationships that are undermined by discontent and lies. I don't think I could go on loving my partner in the same way if I knew he lied to me. I would continue to love him, but trust?? I have had my trust tested before and I haven't recovered. I continue to love the people who tested me, but it isn't the same. Perhaps I am naive in believing that people can be so close in relation to each other and not have lapses of dishonesty. I live in hope that I am not.<br /><br />It seems to me that when we lie to one another it changes the course of our lives. We lose something that is so valuable, a bit of innocence, a bit of belief, a bit of magic. We can never be such good friends again, although we can continue to love each other and try to rediscover...perhaps over time recovery is possible, perhaps magic can be rediscovered. <br /><br />My blogging has been infrequent due to intense busyness. I'll try to be more faithful. (Interesting word choice there!)<br /><br />I am unsure of this line of thought and would appreciate any comments that others have about it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1