The Quarter Hour

I remember when I was a kid, 15 minutes seemed an eternity. And an hour seemed to be eternity and beyond. I would ask my mother over and over... "Has 15 minutes passed yet?" I was waiting the the promised goodies at the hour.

Funny how as you grow older, time passes so slowly and yet so quickly. Every day seems to unfold slowly, almost reluctuntly... then at the end, seems it has been just a blink.

Funny how we mark life in quarters... quarter dollars, quarter hours, quarter years, and quarter centuries. Easy little bits of time and effort that we strain to grab and then easily walk past.

I'll be marking another quarter soon. I'll be glad to see it come, so I can put it in my pocket, and be that much closer to the top of the hour.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Stars shining bright above you.
Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you,'
Birds singing in the sycamore tree.
Dream a little dream of me.

Say nighty-night and kiss me.
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.
While I'm alone and blue as can be,
Dream a little dream of me.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear,
Still craving your kiss.
I'm longing to linger 'till dawn, dear,
Just saying this:

Sweet dreams 'till sunbeams find you,
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you.
But in your dreams, whatever they be.
Dream a little dream of me.

Ella Fitzgerald

Meet Smiley...

The coolest fish ever ! He is about eight years old, loves brine shrimp and the occasional guppie. He spends his time cleaning his tank and making burrows under the rocks. When you come up to his tank he swims up to greet you and will eat out of your hand. He also knocks on his lid when he needs a snack. He has killed numerous fish, an apple snail, a blue crawdad (which was a sad one), numerous pleco, and every other cichlid that he was grown with.

If he was a character in a movie... I'd call him Mr. Pink.

From the Same State That Elected a Dead Guy

JEFFERSON CITY, Mo. -- A state senator wants to force Missouri stores to sell warm beer. Under a bill by Sen. Bill Alter, grocery and convenience stores would risk losing their liquor licenses if they sold beer colder than 60 degrees. The intent is to cut down on drunken driving by making it less tempting to pop open a beer after leaving the store.

''The only reason why beer would need to be cold is so that it can be consumed right away,'' said Alter, who has been a police officer for more than 20 years.

He said the idea came from a fifth-grade student in Jefferson County who was participating in a program to teach elementary students about state government. He sought their suggestions for new laws and chose the cold-beer ban from a list of the top three ideas.

Some lawmakers and lobbyists, however, are lukewarm to the proposal. Ron Leone, executive vice president for the Missouri Petroleum Marketers and Convenience Store Association, said Missouri's drinking and driving laws and designated driver programs have curbed the number of people who drink and drive.

''It would be an inconvenience for law-abiding citizens who want to purchase cold beer for picnics, parties and social gatherings,'' he said. ''People who want to drive drunk will drive drunk anyway.''
AP

Question (s)..

If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound ?

Can something be beautiful if it has never been seen ?

Is beauty solely a function of the beholder ?

Are these the same questions ?

He Finds What He Sought

Beware, lest mingled with your pleasure
Boredom comes to share your leisure—
But the silvery strings so fair
Accompanying a favourite air
Beguile my time
With song sublime,
And chase away all tedious care.

However strenuous the day
My strength is equal to the fray;
Refreshed by this, my powers are strong
To meet my duties all day long;
Then, work complete,
With music sweet
I play myself a goodnight song.

--Sperontes

Upper Tangent Arc

Atmospheric Phenomena

He Strikes the Tangent

Caught by almost silent sounds
Drawn to ivory skin and array
Of chestnut glory
His gentle touch brings forth
Her sweetest expressions.

With intimate knowledge
He entices the song from her
Drawing, holding, and releasing
Each vibrating note
That she yields to him.

Tangent Vectors as Directional Derivatives

Since tangent vectors to a general manifold can be defined as derivations it is natural to think of them as directional derivatives. Specifically, if v is a tangent vector of M at a point p (thought of as a derivation) then define the directional derivative in the direction v by

Dv(f) = v(f)

where f : M → R is an element of C∞(M). If we think of v as the direction of a curve, v = γ'(0), then we write

Dv(f) = (f o γ)'(0)

Writer's Block

Are you going to post today ?

"Yes I am," I think to myself...

Four hours later, sitting and staring at the screen, nothing really comes to mind. I have half written prose pieces that either won't finish themselves or don't feel relevant to me today. There are lines of poetry drifting on the breezes of my mind just not quite landing on the paper. Images illuminate themselves in my head but I have neither the ability to render them, nor the energy to search and search to see if there an artist somewhere who had my same thought at some time.

I worry about my kids. I wish I was a better mother. I want them to have a great life, better than mine.

I have thoughts of love, whispers in my ear, and passion, that my mind won't release. Dreams of houses to be built, paths to be walked, and gardens to be planted. Some days they seem like a mirage shimmering in the heat... not quite touchable. The man I love is a world away.

The challenges in my life have drawn themselves into a formidable height. I see them but I don't really feel afraid. A new direction birthed itself in my heart recently... a path to a future that I never imagined before.

I smoked five cigarettes today... maybe tomorrow I won't smoke any. I consumed 2,000 calories today... maybe tomorrow it will only be 1,800. Yesterday I did two miles... maybe tomorrow I'll do three. Maybe tomorrow the pile of paper on my desk will be gone at the end of the day... probably not.

So in this swirl of random and half formed thoughts, I can't think of anything at all to post. I'm not happy or sad, joyful or depressed, anxious or calm, tired or awake. It's just one of those days when I feel I'm clocking time for no particular reason...

Maybe tomorrow I'll be able to think of something to post.

Couple Days Off

I'm headed off to a 'retreat' for the weekend. (Yes it's really a sleepover for grownups). Wish me luck !

Watching From Across the World

It's Not Over Yet ... (I Can Still Be All I Can Be in an Army of One)

Okay, I admit it, I have always secretly wanted to join the military (or become a ninja).

This stems from my admiration of physical and mental mastery, an interest in weaponry, wanting to be able to kill someone with my pinky, and tendency towards furtive behavior (I'd want to be a Ranger of course).

Reported in the news the morning: [In an effort to recruit 10,000 new soldiers A MONTH this year] A new law will allow the Army to give larger financial bonuses for enlistments and re-enlistments – doubling the maximum payment to new active duty recruits from $20,000 to $40,000, and from $10,000 to $20,000 for reservists. It also will let older recruits sign on by raising the top age from 35 to 42. And the top re-enlistment bonus for active duty soldiers would increase from $60,000 to $90,000. (quoted from here)

The good news here is three-fold: a) The age limit no longer precludes me from joining, b) It'd be a great way to pay off my student loans, and c) I have seven more years to think about it.

Simple Keys...

Open many locks.

Staring Down the Barrel of a 45

Send away for a priceless gift
One not subtle, one not on the list
Send away for a perfect world
One not simply, so absurd
In these times of doing what you're told
You keep these feelings, no one knows
What ever happened to the young man's heart
Swallowed by pain, as he slowly fell apart
And I'm staring down the barrel of a 45,
Swimming through the ashes of another life
No real reason to accept the way things have changed
Staring down the barrel of a 45

Straightforward, Simple, Easy

Are We Living the Dream ?

Ten Things I Saw at the Bar Tonight

1. A cool band called Liquifix
2. A one armed man
3. A 'little person'
4. May fortune favor the foolish-- Hamlet, on the wall
5. A guy in Carhart jacket, wearing a John Deer cap, carrying a shiny purse and a fur coat (can you say WHIPPED)
6. A not so cool band called Decadent Nation
7. A bar full of people at least ten years younger than me (can I really be getting that much older?)
8. My favorite bartender
9. The bottom end of five pints of beer
10. The empty space beside me everytime I wanted to talk to someone

Thursday is Beer Night

Some traditions always hold true.

Visions

My eyes have lifted
From seeing today
and tomorrow
To seeing the years
and beyond

Weather Report

Road conditions could become hazardous depending on the temperature if it freezes.


HUH?

Orgasmic Delight

A recent reading of a modern version of the Kama Sutra (for the first time) has reminded me of the true joys of 'lovemaking'. Since Kama Sutra 'products' are hyped by local 'adult' shops, I was expecting it to be just another sex manual, albeit ancient in origin. I was drawn into reading it when I ran across some of the drawings and found them to be quite intriguing... after all, penises just don't do that !

However it is not just about sexual positions and acheiving orgasm. It is about acheiving Kama, union of the mind, body, and soul, a level of pleasure that is acheived through physical mastery and spiritual connection. It is about mutual respect, mutual pleasure, and enjoyment of a person in all aspects. It is about sharing yourself in a way that goes beyond the physical and creating a space for another person to feel free to do so with you.

I have always believed that sexual energy is potent whether it is held to one's self, or shared with another, and that with the right person, it is even magical. It can be, and should be, far more than a physical act...beginning in the mind, grown in the spirit, and held in the heart.

A Conversation About Cats, Continued...

To continue the sad story of Claude so rudely cut short by ‘a friend’ aka God’s Own Zilla...

Claude was one of my favorite cats... orange and white striped. He was born in the one and only litter of Sariel and his father was the beloved cat of my husband to be. He was warm and affectionate and dog like... good qualities for cats.

One fine day Claude went outside and did not return. Days and weeks passed and we believed the Claude was gone forever. Imagine our surprise to open our front door one day after months gone by to find Claude on the doorstep !

However, the happiness quickly faded when we realized that Claude’s back legs were broken, smashed. Of course we rushed him to the vet, who pinned him together like this:



Soon we returned home ($500 lighter in the wallet), we nursed him back to health, and began giving him little stints in the yard. He hobbled around on his pins and we looked forward to when he would be well.

Well you wouldn’t you know it... that damn cat disappeared out of the yard before his medical bills were paid off... and this time never to be seen again !

Moral of the Story: Some things are meant to remain broken OR sometimes they do come back... only to RUN OFF AGAIN !

He Builds the Heights

Released

From the fear of tomorrow, and the dread of today.

He Paints the Colors

What can I give thee back, O liberal
And princely giver, who hast brought the gold
And purple of thine heart, unstained, untold,
And laid them on the outside of the wall
For such as I to take or leave withal,
In unexpected largesse? am I cold,
Ungrateful, that for these most manifold
High gifts, I render nothing back at all?
Not so; not cold,--but very poor instead.
Ask God who knows. For frequent tears have run
The colours from my life, and left so dead
And pale a stuff, it were not fitly done
To give the same as pillow to thy head.
Go farther! let it serve to trample on.

Sonnets from the Portugese/Elizabeth Barret Browning

Why Is It..

... that we let kids out of school at three, make parents work til five, and then wonder why the crime rate is so high from three until five ?

He Brings the Light

The Way is Shut

The Tower trembles; to the tombs of kingsdoom approaches. The Dead awaken; for the hour is come for the oathbreakers; at the Stone of Erech they shall stand again and hear there a horn in the hills ringing. Whose shall the horn be? Who shall call them from the grey twilight, the forgotten people?The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the North shall he come, need shall drive him: he shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead.

"That way I now shall take. But I do not go gladly; only need drives me. Therefore, only of your free will would I have you come, for you will find both toil and great fear, and maybe worse...That way I must go, since there are none living to help me."


The Passing of the Grey Company/Return of the King/Tolkien

Of All the Places in All the World

Today I listened to a presentation given by two Haitian foreign exchange students. The poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, it is a land of poverty, hopelessness, and voodoo. The country has been pillaged by its rulers for 200 years. Today an elite minority lives in splendor while the underpriviledged masses languish in squalor. These two spoke of non-existent healthcare, lack of education, and destruction of the environment. Natural and political disasters destroy the countryside and fill the eyes of the people with lifelessness. All neatly wrapped into the phrase 'lack of infrastructure' by these two young men.

When asked what they liked best about the US, they said 'how organized everything is.' When asked what they like least they said, 'freedom is good. We know because we live in a dictatorship, but Americans can sometimes take it too far...?'

When asked if they wanted to remain in the US, they vigorously shook their heads no, and spoke with deep sincerity of their desire to contribute to the building of Haiti.

At the end I felt a deep desire to go there, and help. To build, to work, to sweat, to make a difference. I have felt this before, for Russia, for New Orleans... In light of such circumstances my 'work' seems so insiginificant... I want to make a difference and I just wonder..

Where am I supposed to be?

Some Resolutions Don't Need a Special Day

The 'F' Word

Imagine my surprise when I looked out to see all those fopdoodles formicating in the street. I heard later that it was caused by an outbreak of framboesia which of course is known to produce demensia and folie de doute (among other nasty symptoms).. The outbreak began in one of three ways: exposure during a felicide, a contaminated firkin (not a gherkin), or a flagitious action on the part of the local famulus. Regardless, it flagellated throughout town almost instantly... You might think this is a bunch of flapdoodle, and that I am nothing but fabulist... but that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

What Am I To You ?

What am I to you

Tell me darling true

To me you are the sea

Fast as you can be

And deep the shade of blue

When you're feeling low

To whom else do you go

See I cry if you hurt

I'd give you my last shirt

Because I love you so

If my sky should fall

Would you even call

Opened up my heart

I never want to part

I'm giving you the ball

When I look in your eyes

I can feel the butterflies

I love you when you're blue

Tell me darlin' true

What am I to you

Yeah well if my sky should fall

Would you even call

Opened up my heart

Never wanna part

I'm giving you the ball

When I look in your eyes

I can feel the butterflies

Could you find a love in me

Could you carve me in a tree

Don't fill my heart with lies

I will you love when you're blue

Tell me darlin' true

What am I to you

What am I to you

What am I to you

Norah Jones

Poetry of 33 Musings

In my 5th year I lost my joy.
Sometimes I wonder if it will ever return.
In my 7th year I found God.
He carries me still.
In my 9th year, I lost my voice.
Silence ruled my life thereafter.
In my 13th year I lost my innocence.
How I wish that I had waited.
In my 16th year I lost my father.
I don’t know if I ever really had one.
In my 17th year I became a mother.
This joy was soon to double.
In my 21st year I found the love of my life.
He ruled my heart ever after.
In my 23rd year I lost my safety.
Love became my prison.
In my 26th year I achieved success.
It came and went without celebration.
In my 29th year I lost the heart of my husband
But I was not yet to be released.
In my 33rd year ghostly footsteps,
Echoed through halls of memory
Doors shut, never to reopen.

I paused to look down the path behind me,
As my mind’s eye cast across
The valleys and the mountains
A beautiful landscape of light and shadow.
The musings threading through my thoughts,
And my ears strained to hear the voice of God.

In my 34th year I stood looking for the path ahead
It was illuminated by a dream made real.

My Wish...

Freedom.